A few mornings ago, as I packed my backpack and the sun reddened the eastern horizon, I asked, "how many towns has it been?" In the fourteen months since leaving our house to when we arrived in Hoi An, where we are now, we've slept in 121 places. I was surprised how easy it was to trace back through each of them, some no more than a single night sleeping in an open Arkansas field or a non-descript Indian guest house. I guess that says something for the ability of variety to inscript your memory.
A few weeks ago we observed we were carrying six (it's now seven) kinds of currency. Only two of them are in throw-away quantities.
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