Note to self: Frequent flier miles are no reason for a trip. For some reason I never wanted to go on this trip and can point to about a dozen reasons why it wasn’t a good idea. One really big one that may haunt me for the rest of my life.
Yet, here I am, in Bogota, Colombia for the umpteemth time and with plenty to do. I am staying in a cheap, private room in a hostel in the Candelaria neighborhood, the historic, central part of Bogota.
The wifi works nicely, the water is hot, and the room while bare bones is really comfortable, but the door doesn’t so much lock as stick shut at the top, so I keep lugging my computer and camera equipment with me everywhere I go.
The high altitude gets me here, so for two days I’ll cease running and that really hurts because I was getting addicted to it in NYC and starting to make real progress.
When I get to Medellin, I have lots of work to do and I like that city better. It’s easier to get around, Paisitas are a bit more friendly and in general, I just plain like Medellin.
But once again, why am I here? Why, why, why? Developing a travel show, launching punk outlaw records, continuing work on Punktology – the documentary of punk music throughout the world.. yes, all that is true. But why Colombia? why now?
My heart is back in NYC. I’ve been on trips like this before… where you wonder what you were thinking when you booked it. Travel for travel sake? Is that cool? Travel is best when you need to escape. I need to escape alright, but maybe, instead I need to face things head on. Things that can only be faced and confronted in NYC.
Overall, the healing magic of travel still has me in it’s grasp. But I wonder, what I’m doing, where I’m going because no matter where I go, I’m still here.
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