A Story in Progress

I got pages added to my passport not too long ago. Does that mean I’ve leveled up as a traveller? Chinese visas galore…LAX here and there…A New Zealand entry stamps nestles close to the Ataturk emblazoned on Mount Rushmore. A space-hogging Vietnamese multiple entry visa squatting on an entire page, alone yet vibrant. A lone Sydney entry stamp that has nothing on the adjacent page save the Statue of Liberty (the art on US passports is cool).

The new sets of pages are hardly artistically done. They basically glue in 2 chunks of paper that make your passport wallet-fat – I’d thought elves in the back rooms of the embassy – er, American Institute of Taiwan – might delicately gather laces of golden ley-line silk and distill the essence of wanderlust into pages that sing when you open them. Instead I got back a fat, awkward looking passport that won’t close all the way now.

But still. I needed the extra pages. I like to think the storybook of my Life was too small, so they needed to add extra pages.

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