First hurdle accomplished.

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I'm normally not this nervous when I travel. I got my flight from Fredericton to London-Gatwick without a hitch, but I was a bag of nerves through the whole process. My sister wisely saved me from being interviewed at the airport on a local radio station -- I was on a surprisingly packed pioneering international flight direct from Fredericton to the UK. A woman approached me as I waited with my family before going through security at the tiny airport. She wondered if I'd agree to a one minute interview.

My sister shook her head as I contemplated agreeing. 'I know you,' she said after I declined, 'it will ruin your whole trip. You'll kick yourself thinking you said something stupid.' Quite right. Besides, my story of what I'm doing is too complicated and unlikely to explain.

But I was not free from having to explain myself.

In the early hours at Gatwick airport, all seemed well, but my heart was pounding terribly while I waited in a long line up to have my passport stamped for entry into the UK. I went over again and again in my mind: 'I checked the website... I don't need a visa. I've never had trouble before... I don't need anything but a passport. Stop worrying.'

But when I got to the boarder officer, she did not seem to think all was well at all.

'You're spending 5 months?'
'Yes.'
'5 months?'
'Yes.'
'You took 5 months off work?'
'Yes.'
'What do you do?'
'I'm self-employed.'
She wrote that down.
'And you're just going to do tourism?'
And here I got excited to share my plans so I said with a smile:
'No. I'm going to hike in Scotland.'
'With a group?'
'No. Alone.'
'Alone.' And she wrote 'not with a group' on my file.
'And how much money did you bring?' And here I figured out what the issue was and said: 'I don't plan to work while I'm here.'

She was not convinced. By this point everyone else in the long snaking Disney World-style line up was zipping through with happily stamped passports, while this only semi-friendly woman plied me with all the same questions that plaque me when I'm trying to fall asleep.

'You're not meeting anyone? Not going to stay with a friend? Do you have a job to return to? How many bags do you have? Do you have an itinerary?'

Fortunately, at least, I did have a good answer to that last one.

'Yes!' I said with relief, 'I do have an itinerary!'

And I pulled out my freakish neurotically detailed trip budget and itinerary of each walk I intend to take and how many miles each one is.

'You've obviously put a lot of work into planning this.' She said, still with skepticism.

'Yes.' Yes, God, yes. Too much to be turned away before even claiming my baggage.

Finally, she reluctantly stamped my passport. I looked around and realized I was the only traveller left in the inspection area, even though I had been in the middle of an impossibly long line up. I grabbed my passport, smiled and headed straight for the baggage claim. Only afterwards did I think about what could have happened... what would I have done if she refused me?

Mostly, though, I was trying not to keep asking myself all of her questions all over again... do I have enough money? Am I really going to do this? Alone? It is a pretty crazy and improbable plan.

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