""How long's your vacation?"
"A year. Maybe longer."
"A year? What did you do? Win the lottery?"
Most americans we met on the road, or at least the ones without nose rings, had a hard time fathoming the idea of a year's travel. Australians and Germans would nod in "of course" approval. Our country men would fixate on language barriers or some hideous tropical disease. They'd talk about the nightmare scenario - a Third World appendectomy and not being able to tell the doctor to use clean needles."
— Franz Wisner (Honeymoon with My Brother: A Memoir)