There is a difficult decision to make: should I buy two Thai silk “aloha shirts” that feel like you are wearing nothing when you wear them, or should I spend my last night in town in my hotel room? I can’t afford both.
I check out of the hotel and make it down to the airport to sleep wearing one of my new shirts.
In the airport waiting room a well-dressed older man comes up to me and asks if I can fly a fighter jet. If I can he says he has work for me. I never learned to fly one. Looks like I am back in “the real world”.
Most of the rest of the night I spend talking to a pretty Spanish woman—when she leaves for Pakistan at 2 a.m. I go to sleep under my Afghani sheepskin coat.
My flight to Honolulu leaves at 8 a.m. On the plane I sit next to a friendly American woman on her way to New York. She makes it a good trip.
Hong Kong: In and out. I never leave the plane.
Formosa: Green and lovely below.
Seoul: Cold.
Tokyo: The lady going to New York reads my I Ching: “Small gains”.
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