I figure he’ll glance at it and give it back, but instead he examines the path before reading the notes about hostels, sights, and packing tips that crowd the corners of the pages. “May I look through the rest of the notebook?” he asks.
“Why?”
He looks at me. “This is fascinating. I want to know what other places have caught your attention.”
In for a penny, right? I’ve already come this far, so I nod. Part of me is happy to be able to share it. There are so many enthralling places in the world and to talk to someone about the ones that interest me is…well, it’s fun.
Jihoon takes his time working through the pages. There aren’t many, since I only started this one a couple months ago. He points to one of the entries. “We can see the world’s oldest ham?”
“At the Isle of Wight Museum. They also have the oldest peanut.”
“Let’s log that for a later trip.” He turns the page. “Ah, I’ve been here!”
“Atlantis Books in Santorini?”
He nods. “It’s very twisty and crowded inside, but you can buy a book to read on the outdoor patio. The town has one of the best sunsets in the world.”
I sigh, and Jihoon leans in so our shoulders touch. “You’ll go one day,” he assures me. “Perhaps we should go to Greece for our getaway instead?”
I’m torn before I remember this is all make-believe. We’re not going anywhere. “Let’s stick to the Camino.”
“It’s perfect,” he says. “Walking and quiet.”
“You can shop in Seville. Or we can fly into Paris.”
“Then we can go up the Eiffel Tower,” he says. “I’ve never been to the top, only saw it from the hotel.”
I look at my notes. “The best times to go are spring and fall.”
“Fall,” he says with certainty. “It’s my favorite season.”
“Mine, too.” I check my phone. “I say we do three days in Paris and then get a train south. We can have a bus take our bags ahead each night so we don’t have to carry all our clothes as we walk.”
He frowns. “Doesn’t that negate the point of a pilgrimage walk?”
“Do you want to carry a huge bag for twenty kilometers each day?”
Jihoon weighs the actuality against the purity of the experience. “No.”
I shut my notebook and lean back against the couch. “I wish we could do this now.”
“We can,” he says. “I jumped on a plane to Toronto. I can get on another to Paris.”
“I can’t go to Paris. I have work.”
“Then let’s do this next year. For now, we can go somewhere that doesn’t involve crossing an ocean,” he says.
“We should,” I say. I’m not sure what he means, but I’m tentatively open to the idea.
“I’m not even sure what I like to do anymore. I’ve been too busy with work.” He tosses the pillow aside. “Books. Do I like stories or facts? Am I a man who enjoys puzzles? Graphic design? Horse racing?”
“Can’t help you there.” I grab the glasses and refill them. Then I pause. “Wait, I can.”
He swirls his glass. “Do you have a flowchart?”
I ignore that. “Are you free this weekend?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar since the zero people I know in the city are all begging for some time.”
