The year is 1492, you have been stricken with a terrible bout of wanderlust. You go to see—before you go to SEA— your doctor. He tells you to take two pills and three ships, and go on an ocean voyage. With one proviso: make sure its not a three hour tour with two guys, called the skipper and little buddy.
Money is tight, and as everyone knows, an ocean cruise is never cheap. But you’ve always fancied a trip to Asia, and besides, you are big into narcotics and silks. Your friends think this an odd combination, but its so you.
At first you had considered taking the trip by land, much cheaper, but that seemed uncomfortable. The possibility of having to ride a donkey, and stories of marauding Turks put you off. Who wants to deal with a bunch of turkeys anyway? Hardly relaxing, nothing like a cruise.
Being short on cash though, forces you to seek a loan for the trip. So you ask Portugal for money, they laugh in Italian and say no because, you appear to be working only part-time.
You now, inexplicably, turn to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain. At first you are refused the loan, causing you to wonder why you never approached a bank or credit union first.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have spouted off about my believing the world is round”— to, “The Flat Earth Society”— you reason.
But as luck would have it, apparently a a lowly bookkeeper at the palace made an error in your favor.
Suddenly you’re the toast of Spain. Not only do you get the loan and the three ships, you’re given the name of “Captain Stubing” by the error-prone bookkeeper (and made part of his witness protection program), and then sent on your merry way to the Indies.
“The Indies?” But you wanted to go to Asia! But that’s okay though, the word on the street has it (on good authority… a homeless guy by the name of Paolo Toscanelli) that the fastest way to Asia from Spain, is by going west.
“What?” But no matter, you now decide that you want to be the first guy to America—which, by the way, no one else has ever heard of—and you intend to document the journey. In this way you’ll prove your historical journey true—thereby beating a big Norwegian to America, who wore a tiny helmet with wings on it.
You decide to ignore the math (maybe it’s your lack of education), which say’s, that an explorer—known as Leif Ericsson—did this epic trip, 500 years before you decided to attempt it. You even get “Rosetta Stone” and learn three new languages.
You can’t make this up folks.
It takes you a little over two and a half months to cruise the Atlantic—if only you had bought that GPS because, that’s some cruise! Anyway, you arrive in the Indies ready to pillage and plunder so that you can return to Spain a big man—which you already are, but with a small head, judging from that painting.
Only to find out that Queen Isabella—not to be outdone—had taken about a nine hour flight right after you left.
Upon arriving she greets you, “Hey Chris how’s things? I would have called you on your cell, but you apparently forgot to pack one. Hope you brought your passport.
All this because of wanderlust.