Three months on the road…

Yarp, as of today (19th as at posting) I’ve been away for three months. That’s one whole month longer than I’d been away from home ever before ever. And stuff.

It’s funny. It feels like I’ve been away and travelling for a while, and yet at the same time it totally doesn’t feel like I’ve been away for a quarter of a year already. Last time I did a lengthy trip (the two month trip around the US and Canadia, for those who don’t know) by the last few weeks, the whole thing was really dragging on me and my travel buddy, and we both felt very much along the lines of “fuck it, we want to go home.”

Not so, currently. I’m not tired or worn out, or sick of moving around a lot, or bored, or anxious or missing people at home enough to want to dash back immediately. Maybe this has been because over the last month I’ve been staying in the same place, with friends, and that’s been somewhat restful and relaxing. I know not having to pack my damn bag up every few days and cart it half way around another country is a pleasant break.

I have also become desensitized to the discomfort of being on transport for long periods of time, and re-learned how to sleep comfortably on a Greyhound bus (no mean feat, I tell ya). A few days ago I did a five hour stint on a train, followed by a short 15 minute walk (with bag on back), immediately followed by another five hours on a coach. Was fine. Barely cranky at all. The guy sat in front of me on the coach did have the loudest sneezes I’ve ever heard, though (picture, say, a small firecracker going off not next to you, but placed just inside your ear). He also had a cold. This was annoying, as a combination.

I’m contemplating taking a train straight from the midwest where I am now, alllll the way to LA, which would end up being something in the region of 48-72 hours solid on the train. It’s not like the coach where it stops every so often so you can stretch your legs etc. But, while I’d get to see a lot of the country through the windows, I’m less excited by that than getting to at least explore the myriad truck stops and dive bars I’d find along the way if I went Greyhound again.

Speaking of truck stops, on the way here I passed Iowa 80, officially the world’s largest truck stop. Of all the things I’ve seen, Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, Sahara desert, that one has to be the most awe inspiring and breathtaking one. I mean, wow.



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