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riding edges
Sep. 30th, 2004 08:23 pmWe're bouncy in turbulence as I write this, over Colorado somewhere on my way home. Traversing about a third of an orbit today, racing the sun. Maybe I'm just weird... but I sometimes *like* turbulence on flights. When it has a pattern, or rhythm... turn up the music on my headphones to match, and bounce and sway away, sort of an air-assisted seat dancing.
I was asked over lunchtime yesterday why I drove back and forth between Rio Tinto and Madrid instead of taking the train or flying... it is about 400 miles, after all, nearly 600 km. One answer is freedom and flexibility, another is that I'd need a car anyway, another is unofficially that I can give free rides to visiting friends and relatives, if they happen to be going in the same direction. But... another reason is the last hour or so of mountain roads. And that I did the whole thing, myself, in 5 hours, hotel to hotel. Including stops... I *enjoy* fondling those mountain curves... and sitting alertly on the flats and freeways, cruising at the equivalent of 100-110mph. Speed... maneuvers. Focus, intently.
Travel often stimulates... it drives me, challenges me and gives me a series of unexpected challenges to handle, to decide in real-time. Intense living, compressed into a short time. Coming home is supportive and loving and reintegrative... but I'm often fidgetly and restless for the first week or two afterwards. It lacks the edge of prolonged travel. Or of running big projects. At some level, I could easily take a few days' breather at home, rest a bit, spend time with loved ones, then happily head out again.
Anyway... I'm nearly home after a successful nearly-3-week deployment and tests. Yesterday evening I celebrated by wandering around Madrid alone and on foot after midnight, hitting bars for tapas and beverages (heh... took no maps, and wandering through Sol slightly tipsy) finishing up at 2am at the delightful Chocolateria San Gines, where I raised a dripping churro in honor of my friends already at home ;).
This morning... I fit everything into my luggage, barely. Only by virtue of buying a new duffle yesterday in Nerva. Three pairs of boots, shoes, clothes, and all of the port filled it, and more. The Madrid-Newark flight... coach, cattle-car crowding for nine hours, I was in the window seat and could only get up once during that time (the guys in the next two seats were sleeping). On this Newark-SFO flight, at least I was upgraded... much better, except that the guy next to me (probably an air marshal) keeps the window shades drawn, and I need the light to help stay awake...
( the road home... )
I was asked over lunchtime yesterday why I drove back and forth between Rio Tinto and Madrid instead of taking the train or flying... it is about 400 miles, after all, nearly 600 km. One answer is freedom and flexibility, another is that I'd need a car anyway, another is unofficially that I can give free rides to visiting friends and relatives, if they happen to be going in the same direction. But... another reason is the last hour or so of mountain roads. And that I did the whole thing, myself, in 5 hours, hotel to hotel. Including stops... I *enjoy* fondling those mountain curves... and sitting alertly on the flats and freeways, cruising at the equivalent of 100-110mph. Speed... maneuvers. Focus, intently.
Travel often stimulates... it drives me, challenges me and gives me a series of unexpected challenges to handle, to decide in real-time. Intense living, compressed into a short time. Coming home is supportive and loving and reintegrative... but I'm often fidgetly and restless for the first week or two afterwards. It lacks the edge of prolonged travel. Or of running big projects. At some level, I could easily take a few days' breather at home, rest a bit, spend time with loved ones, then happily head out again.
Anyway... I'm nearly home after a successful nearly-3-week deployment and tests. Yesterday evening I celebrated by wandering around Madrid alone and on foot after midnight, hitting bars for tapas and beverages (heh... took no maps, and wandering through Sol slightly tipsy) finishing up at 2am at the delightful Chocolateria San Gines, where I raised a dripping churro in honor of my friends already at home ;).
This morning... I fit everything into my luggage, barely. Only by virtue of buying a new duffle yesterday in Nerva. Three pairs of boots, shoes, clothes, and all of the port filled it, and more. The Madrid-Newark flight... coach, cattle-car crowding for nine hours, I was in the window seat and could only get up once during that time (the guys in the next two seats were sleeping). On this Newark-SFO flight, at least I was upgraded... much better, except that the guy next to me (probably an air marshal) keeps the window shades drawn, and I need the light to help stay awake...
( the road home... )
