My role was to be that of vanguard. But even before the van's arrival, I went on ahead. I arrived by way of flying machine into that port city known as Macquarie. The sky was heavy with cloud as I made my way to my lodgings. Above the sign of the Starbuck I was shown to my bed-chamber. There was magic all around. The walls shone as though carved from purest alabaster. Dark potions and tasty sweet-meats were offered to me, and I feasted gratefully. Few words were spoken, as my hosts took their leave and left me to rest. They had a journey of their own to take that night, to meet with their fellows. They taught salsa to the local people, and their skills were required that evening.
I was content to spend time alone, and ponder what the days to come might offer. I left my lodgings only briefly, to find sustenance at a local tavern. It was a strange repast, but tasty. The food was in the style of Thailand, a distant place. Music drifted into the eating-chamber from an unseen source. I recognised the familiar strains of the bouzouki, and even picked out some melodies that were known to my people. (Morning Has Broken, I Can't Help Falling In Love With You, and Edelweiss all brought comfort to the scene.) After my meal I returned to my room and to my bed. I slept fitfully, alone in the unfamiliar darkness.
The next morning I rose early and walked by the water's edge and awaited the arrival of the first to find me.