The Road

The time has come once more to move on. To roll out. To digress. To roll up the metaphorical sleeves of destiny and crack on with this whole travelling lark.

I’d be lying if I said Colorado and it’s current inhabitants weren’t one of the main reasons I came to the US in the first place. Also, knowing it was there as a stop off, a breather in my non-stop fidgeting around the place, was a big help when I found myself sat at the computer desperately trying to rationalise the ticket I was about to book. Now that it’s almost over it feels like having a safety net pulled from under me. This metaphor might be more accurate that I’d like actually, considering my next stop after California is the former drug-trafficking capital of the world.

Ah, California. I wasn’t entirely convinced I was going to make it to the Sunshine State. I’d heard mostly negative or at least unconvincing things about LA, and knew very little of the rest of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s back-yard aside from the fact Michael Bay blasts it to buggery every few years. As has happened ridiculously frequently however, it turns out I have friends there. Come the 8th I’ll be San Francisco bound to ride the streetcars and dabble in sexual experimentation. This has been one of the nicest surprises of my trip so far (the people, not the experiments 😦 ). Everywhere my sleep-addled mind has decided my body should venture has turned up people I haven’t seen in an age, all more than willing to go for a drink or show me around the place or, holiest of holies, provide me with accommodation. Seriously, the hostel prices over here? Ri-damn-donkulous. All these wonderful people have made my trip better in a myriad of ways and I really can’t thank them enough, not only for their physical presence but their lack of fear in me stealing all their shit. Which I have not yet done.

Special thanks go obviously to my hosts here in Colorado. Now this is slightly awkward because I know at least one of them steels herself to read the relentless babbling I chose to expose to this corner of the internet. But still. Greenham and Olivia have been completely accommodating, endlessly entertaining and, hardest of all, have managed to survive me hanging around during the brief hours they currently get to spend with each other. Were I in their situation I would’ve tired of my antics within hours, ejecting myself forcibly onto the street perhaps applying a quick kick to the genitals for good measure. As people who know me will understand, the fact that they did not ranks as Nobel Prize levels of hospitality.

So as I spent my last few days in Boulder writing, drinking more Chai than the Indian sub-continent and rediscovering the beauty of the printed (rather than digitised) word, I find myself filled with gratitude, sadness, excitement, anxiety and a burgeoning nostalgia for the places I’ve left behind. Also Liberty(tm). Lots of Liberty(tm).

Avante.

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