What to do on Day One?

I have planned for this for over 5 years. I've read guide books, studied maps, talked to others who have set out on similar adventures. I disposed of my house (temporarily) and purged my office, said goodbyes and promised frequent updates.

Today is Day One of my real sabbatical ... now what?

Apparently I don't feel a need for any symbolic "slipping of the tethers". Instead, I've found my way across town to a Second Cup coffee shop on Toronto's young and chic King Street West where a super friendly barista teaches me how to order my Vanilla Bean Latte "half-sweet with homogenized milk" (not skim!). A sweet woman with vivid red hair looks over her paper and, with a smile, informs both of us that "skim holds the foam better".

On the sidewalk outside, black-sheathed creative types in their 20s and slim financial sector clones with good hair and the latest pastel shirts wait for the streetcar to their Wednesday morning ambitions. It's a cool-humid, overcast day and everyone moves heavily.

Around me, others are absorbed in their coffees and laptops... I feel like I've joined a cult. And my initiation is this sweet little black and white netbook that I've just connected to a wireless network for the very first time! So far, so good. But I have so much to learn.

I know friends and colleagues are wondering "how does it feel?".

Clearly, it's too early to tell. I have errands to run today - buy a backpack, adjust a downspout, pick up some dry cleaning, vote, maybe go to the gym. But I'm relaxed and confident that I can disengage completely from work - my team is on top of everything. It's still a week and a half before we fly to Africa for a highly structured tour that from here looks like just another vacation - albeit a lengthy one.

My first step on this adventure appears to be a tentative toe dip off of the beaten path. An expedition to a new part of town, a coffee I've never ordered before, and a nervous venture into new technology.

Perhaps fittingly, the pure tones of Nat King Cole's "I'll be Home for Christmas" waft through the coffee shop. [Wait, it's only October!]