When we were children, having a “mole on the sole of your foot” was considered a highly desirable thing. It was said to be an extraordinary stroke of good fortune. People firmly believed that anyone blessed with such a mark would lead a prosperous life and travel abroad frequently.
Please, let’s not start an argument over whether the mole should be on the right foot or the left. I once tried to create such a mole myself during my childhood, and the experiment turned out to be rather dangerous. Perhaps children of our generation really were simple-minded—or, to put it bluntly, foolish.
Anyway, with such a beautiful world out there, is it really right to leave it without moving around a little, without seeing what lies beyond our familiar surroundings? Just because I was not born with a mole on the sole of my foot, should I give up my dream of wandering around the world like a bohemian?
My sons love to travel too. Whenever the subject of travel comes up, I get their enthusiastic support.
“Of course, Mother. Absolutely, you should travel. You have endless free time now. As long as you are healthy and have the strength, go see the world. Once the machinery of your body starts breaking down, you may not get another chance like this.”
My father was a passionate traveler. But carrying the enormous responsibilities of a large family, he could never fully indulge that passion. I inherited his love of travel. But there is a saying about fate working against you, and that has certainly been the case with me.
I began my life with a man who would not be exaggerating to call an “indoor plant.” He thrives inside the house; the moment he steps outside, all hell breaks loose. In trying to reach compromises, I have repeatedly sacrificed my own wishes and pleasures.
Now we have reached old age.
There is not much time left.
How much longer can one keep sacrificing one’s dreams?
My elder son, Sumit, works for Viking Cruises. For a long time, he had been suggesting that we take a European cruise. As his family, we would be able to travel at half price. Missing such an opportunity would simply be foolish.
My younger son, Amit, encouraged us too.
But because I am terrified of the sea, I kept hesitating. I have a profound fear of drowning. I always think that, at the moment of death, I would at least like to see what is around me and take a few breaths before I go.
Since I cannot swim, the ocean is no different from a pond to me.
Both are potential death traps.
So I tried to convince myself:
“Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen. Life is a journey. When the journey ends, you have to leave. Go, Simran, go. Live. Live your life.”
And so, in the name of living life, preparations for our sea voyage began in earnest.
The flights, the ship, the included tours of selected Italian cities, restaurant dinners—everything was booked. Every detail of the trip, down to the month, day, and hour, was written in a little diary and explained to me.
We would fly from New York to Rome. People from Viking would pick us up at the Rome airport and take us to the ship. The cruise would take us to five famous destinations in Italy and beyond.
Over eight days, we would visit Naples, Messina, Crotone, and Bari in succession. From Bari, we would continue to the Croatian coastal city of Šibenik. Our final destination would be Venice. The following day, Viking’s designated bus would take us to the airport and bid us farewell.
While planning the Italian trip, a thought suddenly occurred to me:
“If we are going all the way to Venice, why don’t we continue from Venice to Britain?”
Oh!
How had the dream I had cherished since adolescence remained buried for so many years beneath the grindstone of an ordinary life?
The moment I stirred it a little, my dormant dreams began erupting from the volcano, one after another.
During my university days, I used to read Shafik Rehman’s *Ja Ja Din* with tremendous enthusiasm. The telephone conversations between Moin and Mila had caused quite a stir among us. Then, during the Ershad era, *Ja Ja Din* was shut down. Moin and Mila disappeared too.
Some time ago, I started writing a story based on the same Moin-Mila narrative. Since Moin traveled back and forth between Dhaka and Britain, I wanted to take Mila to Britain as well and bring the story to its conclusion by finally confronting her with Moin.
But it is difficult to create convincing scenes of Britain without having seen the place myself.
So my story had remained unfinished, waiting for the day I would finally visit Britain.
My younger sister, Salma, has lived in London for many years. Her two children are married and have homes of their own. Like us, Salma and her husband are now empty nesters.
They have a spacious three-bedroom house in Barking, East London.
She enthusiastically invited us.
So—no worries, just enjoy!
We booked our tickets from Venice to London.
We would stay in Britain for three weeks.
Hooray!
The travel arrangements were complete. All that remained was to wait for the departure.
Then, suddenly, I heard about a norovirus outbreak aboard a ship called *Star Princess*. Out of 4,307 passengers, 141 had been infected, along with 52 of the 1,561 crew members.
I thought, well, let’s see what happens.
It was only March. We were scheduled to travel in August. There was still plenty of time.
Before that news had even faded, another major outbreak was reported in June aboard the *Ruby Princess*. On the round-trip cruise from San Francisco to Alaska and Canada, 102 of the 3,032 passengers and 23 of the 1,144 crew members—125 people in total—were infected.
The symptoms were vomiting and diarrhea.
The outbreak was reported to the CDC on June 28.
The same virus.
My spirits sank.
Then, in July, came news of a gastrointestinal virus outbreak aboard the *National Geographic Sea Bird*. That was when we really began to reconsider the trip.
The terrifying memories of the COVID-19 pandemic came rushing back.
Even after getting the tickets at a concessionary rate, the total cost was not insignificant for us.
Nearly $8,000.
Needless to say, I became rather discouraged.
That much money—and the possibility of putting our health at risk.
My sons reassured me.
“Mom, don’t worry. Everything will be fine. August is still a long way off. Besides, if the situation gets really bad, the cruise company will cancel the trip and refund the money. Or they can hold the deposit and issue a new booking when conditions improve.”
Meanwhile, friends and relatives began expressing their concerns. Some advised us not to go at all.
My travel companion also started looking for excuses to cancel.
He already develops a fever at the mere mention of traveling.
Now he had even more reason to stay home.
Then July arrived, and the people at Viking Sea began sending emails one after another.
They welcomed us and sent their best wishes.
They reminded us what we needed to do before departure and what preparations were necessary.
If we had any health-related restrictions, we were advised to consult our doctors. We were reminded to carry necessary medications in their original, properly labeled packaging, along with our prescriptions.
Several emails arrived with one reminder after another.
We were advised to carry our passports and printed copies of our visas.
We were encouraged to bring some euros in cash along with our credit cards.
There seemed to be no small detail that Viking had overlooked.
We were reassured, impressed, and frankly amazed.
Around the middle of July, beautiful luggage tags arrived for both of our suitcases—red leather with the word “Viking” printed in white—as well as name tags to wear around our necks.
The idea was to make sure we could be easily identified at the Rome airport.
The arrangements were remarkably thorough.
Before we knew it, July was almost over.
There was very little time left.
I pushed all my doubts aside and hurriedly bought some gifts for my sister and her family.
Since we were going on an upscale cruise, we would need appropriate clothes. So we did some shopping for ourselves as well.
Sumit told us:
“Most Viking Sea passengers are relatively affluent and sophisticated. There are many middle-aged and retired people who want to spend their vacations in a tasteful, peaceful, quiet environment. Unlike the larger cruises, there won’t be casinos, water slides, crowds, or a lot of noise. I hope the trip will be comfortable and enjoyable for you.”
The tickets had been purchased six months earlier.
The entire itinerary was already recorded both in my paper diary and on my iPad.
Following our plan, we nearly finished all the food in the refrigerator and wrapped up the grocery shopping. We cleaned the house and put everything in order.
We were ready for a month-long vacation.
Since Amit had some time off, he came to our house the day before we left.
We had a farewell dinner together.
One last time, we went through the checklist to make sure we had packed everything we needed and that nothing had been forgotten.
On the morning of August 3, after breakfast, we said a prayer and set off for JFK Airport.
