The French didn’t know how to drive. Or maybe they did. Sitting in the back of that taxi from Charles de Gaulle, on the verge of vomiting all over the worn seats, I was convinced I had left Paris and entered some high speed, Grand Theft Auto chase. The driver belched something out the window. Someone yelled back. He gestured wildly.

I traveled through 14 countries to barter an apple for bigger and better goods until I finally reached my goal - a house in Hawaii.
So that I was always trading up, I had to develop certain strategies. One such strategy was to change countries. I would take my “good” from one market and enter a market in which this good had a higher value.