Departure: Atlanta, 06:42, Peachtree Station

I left the apartment at 05:58 with the confidence of a man who has been packed for four days and the panic of a man who has been packed incorrectly for four days. The duffel would not zip. I sat on it. It zipped.

06:42, Peachtree Station

The southbound train was more or less empty. Two contractors, a woman with a viola case, and a family of four who were, based on volume, going somewhere they were extremely excited about. I opened the MacBook, closed the MacBook, opened it again, and then decided that the correct behaviour on the first morning of an open ended voyage is to look out of the window.

Macon, mid morning

I had allocated ninety minutes in Macon for a boiled peanut pilgrimage, which is an amount of time no boiled peanut vendor has ever required. The woman at the stand handed over a warm paper bag, took my money, and said "mm hm" in a way that suggested she had already forgotten me. This is, on the whole, what I am looking for from the next stretch of time.

Onward to Savannah

The rest of the ride is pine trees, low light, and the sensation that I have, for the first time in a long time, nothing at all to prepare for. The ship is in port. It will still be there when I arrive. Someone else is loading it. Someone else is fuelling it. Someone else is checking the paperwork.

For the first time in twenty years, I am not the person other people are waiting on. This is, I think, going to take some getting used to.

Savannah by evening. Oysters, if there is any decency left in the world.