"Around the world," I said to my travel agent. "Business class. Tomorrow."

She looked at me, a quizzical twist to her welcoming smile. I'd actually done something like that a couple of years ago; asked her to book a big flight at short notice. She had come through beautifully, and I hadn't stopped smiling since, through two world trips and a wealth of wonderful memories. Tessa might not have been standing by my side as dawn touched the Eiffel Tower, or picking sakura out of my hair in Hiroshima, or even watching the parade of longhorns through the old stockyards in Fort Worth, but I was thinking of her. A travel agent who understands what I want out of a trip, that to cram as many long flights into a short trip is actually desirable and that the best way to fly from Canberra to Sydney is via Perth, thereby crossing the continent twice over, such a one is shining gold. You don’t give her up. Not when she busts a gut to get me good window seats.

Tessa understands what makes me happy. A smile, a card tucked into my travel documents, a personal message. A travel agent with a twinkling eye to detail.

I’ve been stung before. Agents who didn’t know their job, who left essential items unbooked, who charged me twice, who didn’t think to include my frequent flyer number. The way I see it, is that if things go wrong in the planning stage, they’ll turn around and bite me on the bum when I’m a long way from home. “Skyring?” they’ll say at the counter, “We have no record of your booking here. We have nothing left. Why don’t you try somewhere else? And friend, good luck at this time of night.”

When Tessa books a trip, there are no loose ends, and I smile my way through, or at least if something goes wrong, it’s my own stupid fault.

And she’s beautiful. Those flawless Celtic features, a touch of jewellery to set off her charms. She smiles and my heart melts.

I thought I’d lost her a couple of years back. She’d gone overseas and I was wondering how long it would take and how much money I’d waste before I found anyone as good. But she returned in the nick of time and talked me into flying at the front of the plane, a choice I didn’t regret at all.
So, when I wanted to book this year’s trip to the annual BookCrossing convention, held in Charleston, South Carolina this time, there was no doubt in my mind. It had to be Tessa. And business class.

The way I see it, it costs about as much for me to fly around the world as it does to fly return to almost anywhere in the USA or Europe. With a oneWorld Explorer ticket, I get twenty flights, very few restrictions, and a lot of flexibility in making the trip.

If it’s planned properly, going business class also gets me a year’s worth of elite status. That’s a lot of extra luggage, priority treatment, first class lounge access and a whole bunch of other goodies that make a big difference when travelling. The details count.

And it’s mighty comfortable to fly at the front of the plane, especially when I am making a number of long trips in a few days. A short-tempered wreck at the end of four days in Economy, maybe, but if I do the same flights in Business, I’m smiling. The only drawback is that I need to be careful lest I wax fat on the food.

But I was joking when I told Tessa, “Tomorrow”. I have no doubt that she could have done it, but I’d left myself a couple of weeks.

Actually, I wasn’t sure until mid March that I was even going to be making the trip. Family matters intervened, and the trip went through several incarnations. At one point I was going to be taking my wife along. Or the whole family. Or just my wife again.

That would have been a very different trip, and to tell the truth, one I would have preferred, to show my wife Guernsey, spend a few days in Paris, and take a small number of direct flights rather than a string of indirect legs. But she couldn’t make it, so I was free to shake the maximum number of airmiles and status points out of the ticket.

“You’re mad,” they all said.

I like flying. It’s like the greatest carnival ride in the world, to whoosh up, up and away off the runway into the clouds, homes and buildings dwindling below. Oceans and green jungles, the slopes of volcanoes and the icefields of the North, all pass before my wondering eyes. I marvel at this multicoloured planet, and hunger to see as much as I can.

And beyond the living world, there are the famous buildings and streets of far cities. The sight of Saint Pauls, the Golden Gate Bridge, the exquisite parks and temples of old Japan. Or the art; I love seeing the great paintings and great galleries of the world, and I emerge out into the real world with my eyes refreshed, taking a new delight in the colours and shapes of every life.
But most of all, it’s the people. I hug myself for joy at the thought of the friends I’ve made on my travels.

Tessa understands all this, I think.

She happily turned the jumble of places and dates into a workable itinerary. I’ve got to be in Charleston for the weekend of the convention, of course. And there’s people I simply must see. How can I visit Continental Europe without stopping in to say hello to my BookCrossing friends there? It’s mandatory. And then there’s the monthly BookCrossing gathering in London; always a jolly meeting in a pub. Books and beer and great company – each evening with these people is a treasure.

After an hour, Tessa hands me the completed work, and I look over it, checking to see that I have time to sleep here and there, time to visit with friends, time to make connections in the airports along the way.

It’s workable, a compromise between the maximum potential airmile and status earning journey, and something that I can actually enjoy.

Canberra to Perth to Sydney. I’m allowed four flights within Australia, and this trip crosses the continent twice over. With a brief midnight stop in Perth before heading back east.

Sydney to Cairns to Narita. Just enough time in Sydney and Cairns to grab a bit of internet. I’ll overnight in Narita.

Narita to Hong Kong to Singapore . I’ll stay the night in the transit hotel airside.

Singapore to Hong Kong to London. A long day, arriving at Heathrow in the evening. I then have a day to recover and poke around London, with the BookCrossing gathering on Monday evening, at the “Artichoke and Camel” pub.
London to Istanbul and return. I’ll have a whole night and day in Istanbul, but I’ll leave my luggage in my London hostel.

London to Helsinki to Frankfurt. Two nights in Frankfurt.

Frankfurt to Fort Worth. I want to see TexasWren (a famous BookCrosser) and maybe visit the exquisite collection of the Kimbell Art Museum. I’ll have one night there.

Fort Worth to Chicago. More famous BookCrossers in Chicago, where I have been promised a couch for two nights, with two cats.

Chicago to Washington. I’ll spend the night at a friend’s place, and the next morning he and I will drive down to Charleston, where we will share a hotel room for the four nights of the convention. We’ve both been invited to appear on a local radio station.

Charleston to Fort Worth to New York to Los Angeles to Sydney to Canberra. This is about two days’ worth of travel, and I arrive back in Australia on Anzac Day. Presumably I’ll be able to sleep on that long night flight over the Pacific.

(posted from Narita - will I be able to catch up?)