Today, I’m leaving for a place that I have never particularly wanted to go and know absolutely nothing about. In five days, my free flight benefits will expire for one year.

I will get to Tokyo and then to Malaysia and not be “able” to get back.

(This is an exaggeration, I’ll get back whenever I have to.)

It’s nice going places you have never entertained a particular desire to be. There are no expectations, no pre-baked mythologies. When I imagined going to Europe, I had vistas of available imagery: books, film, pictures, other people’s anecdotes, and on and on. These are the things I paid attention to growing up. I retained them because the names were easy to pronounce and the history was endlessly (sometimes excruciatingly) repeated to me in classrooms.

I imagine Tokyo. Nothing.

I imagine Singapore. Nothing.

I imagine Koh Lipe, Krabi, Borneo, Kuching. Nothing.

I imagine the boat, my friend Emily, what it will look like, whether or not I’ll get seasick, the wind, what beers we’ll drink, what I might wear, whether the water-proofing on my boots will hold up (they’re already starting to decay in one heel), the color of my hair after it’s been in the sun for a very long time, who we’ll meet, how we’ll pass the time, and whether or not there will be a radio.

Nothing.

I have so small of an idea of what to expect that I’ve confused my intuition into believing that this trip will never actually happen. Actually — there is not even a small idea. I have NO idea what I’m in for.

Can you imagine anything better?