We quit our jobs. We sold our clothes, possessions, computers and stereos. We shaved our heads, said goodbye to friends and families, got on our bikes and cycled off one Sunday afternoon with the mother of all hangovers.
We left everything we take for granted behind in pursuit of some endless quest for intrigue and adventure, some kind of idealistic mission to find meaning in the world. Now, 2 weeks after we left, how does reality stand up to the idea we spent so long preparing for?