Companions are good. We should have them. I left for Indonesia solo and remained so, more or less, for most of the sojourn. Until Mustang, I’d had travel chums a few days here, a week there with a romantic interlude thrown in for good measure. Maybe what I needed on the sun-drenched dusty Tibetan plateau wasn’t a companion, but the right companion. (If nothing else, a partner would’ve offset the organizational burden.) I wonder if we need witnesses along the way to validate life’s beauty, its overarching magnificence. Maybe we need a notary to consecrate our internal musings and jubilations in the face of natural incomprehensibility. Or should we hog a discrete portion for ourselves?…
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