Overland: When the journey was the destination

Image by Vivian McInerny of my old passport

We stood around a plaza in Delhi, India, near a post office or visa office, some sort of public building with space out front where young travelers gathered. The details blur. What remains in razor-sharp focus is how my eighteen-year-old self felt when I saw her; brutally smug.

She was probably in her early thirties an age I dismissed as too old to be wandering aimlessly around Asia…