Our Tokyo taxi was about to pull away from the curb when there was a rap on the window.  An older Japanese woman was standing next to the cab peering in.

When she had our attention, she began pointing to the rolling backpack on the sidewalk.

Our rolling backpack.

If there hadn’t been heavy traffic, we would have pulled away and left it behind.

Inside were two laptops, two Ipods, a video camera and a point and shoot camera.  One of the laptops held all our photos, our music, our videos — documentation of our life on the road.

For nearly nine months we had moved from place to place flawlessly, never once misplacing a piece of luggage.  Was leaving the backpack a sign, perhaps, that we were losing our travelers’ edge?

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