We set out for adventure from Seattle on Jan. 6. Somewhere over the Pacific, it became Jan. 7. Eriola and I were seated next to a particularly annoying hippie-traveler-type gentleman who really maximized his complimentary international flight alcohol. But we were so excited about our trip that it was easy to ignore him. As we talked over plans and traded life philosophies, Eriola began to have eye trouble.
What started out as slightly blurred vision had morphed into utter blindness over the course of our flight. Instead of continuing on to our final destination of Hong Kong, we were escorted off the plane by the airlines to see the Incheon Airport clinic. We emigrated through customs in record time, with Eriola being pushed through in a wheel chair. When we reached the clinic, we were told as politely as possible by the doctor that he had no clue in hell what the problem was and that we'd better see an eye doctor ASAP.
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