Forty days. That’s how long we’re aboard the Queen Elizabeth.
We pulled out of Seattle this afternoon, past the container cranes and then out into the grey. Stela found the cabin before I did and was asleep in the chair, upright, still wearing her coat.
I keep waiting to feel something dramatic. Mostly what I feel is the engine — a low vibration through the floor that I’ll probably stop noticing by Thursday and miss when it’s gone.
So, what this site is for. I’m going to write something most days. Not a travelogue; I’m not going to tell you what was at the buffet. More like notes. What the ports are actually like once you’re three blocks past the terminal. What forty days away from a desk does to someone who’s almost never away from one.
Ketchikan first, then Juneau, then Skagway. Late in the season, which I’m told means fewer people and worse weather. Fine by me.
No idea yet whether any of this will be interesting. Forty days is a long time to find out.