Forty-three people don't leap on a leaky boat and travel to Australia for nothing.

We were taking our eye off the ball.

We turn 350-some people out at a quarter to 12. You've got to be careful where you go to lunch or you'll be standing in line with us.

Not everyone is a Shaquille O'Neal, making millions, that can travel with a coterie of accountants. We consider it to be an outrageous administrative burden on anyone who travels and works for a few days out of state.

But that's the glory of foreign travel, as far as I am concerned. I don't want to know what people are talking about. I can't think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly you are five years old again. You can't read anything, you have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work, you can't even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.

My first rule of travel is never to go to a place that sounds like a medical condition and Critz is clearly an incurable disease involving flaking skin.