Subterranean Homesick Blues...

Not really homesick but I thought it would be fitting to quote Bob Dylan... So I had an awesome adventure taking the Subte- or Subway... As I headed into the underground to try the Subte for the first time I got a rush of adrenaline. Not only did I not grow up with a subway, but I've never lived anywhere with one either and really only been in one in Boston years ago and wasn't in charge of the negotiation.

Earlier today I saw the entrance to the Subte around the corner from my hostal so I knew the name of the station where I was headed- Avenida de Mayo. So I figured how hard can it be? Look at the map and follow it to where I need to go. I wanted to get from Palermo, where I was visiting Ana before she left for Chile, to the center of the city, where my hostel is. It started out good... I got from Palermo to close to the center, switched trains, got on the wrong direction and the switch, got off at the next stop and managed to get on the right direction. I thought I was home free with only two stops to go. At the stop before I needed to exit about 50 people piled in and the train was smashed full. I mean sardines... an understatement. So the train gets to my stop and no one moves. I'm stuck. The doors close and we're off. Damn. So I figure I'll just get out at the next stop and switch to the train going the other direction. As we approach the next stop, I start making eye contact with the people between me and the door. I get some sort of acknowledgement. The train stops, the doors open and no one moves. "Screw it!" I think, and just push for the door, not sure if I'll make it or not. But I seem to slip through inch by inch... I hear the alarm sound for the doors to close... with a mini panic I thrust for the opening and with a whoosh I'm out on the platform and the train is already zipping away.

After a quick breath, I check myself. I seem to have all my belongings, at least I think. I still got my pack on, with Johnson's several thousand dollars worth of camera gear in it. Well all I have to do is get on the train going back the other way. I think... Easy enough. But when I go up a level to cross to the other side my ticket won't work. Instead of paying another 70 centavos, roughly 25 cents, I decide to walk. I exit this underground wormhole, check my bearings and start heading for the hostel. I walk about a half mile and realize I'm nowhere I've ever seen before. Dreading ending up in the rough Italian district of Boca, or really anywhere now that it is dark, I head for the nearest Subte entrance and consult the map, trying not to look lost. Turns out that this subterranean adventure has entirely confused my internal compass and left me heading in exactly the wrong direction.

I made an about face and started my 3/4 mile walk in the "right" direction. Bummed about my underground escapades, I shun the Subte, grab my packstraps and start hoofing it down the sidewalk. 20 minutes later I'm at the hostel. Sweaty, sucking down a 32 oz. Heineken to the tune of two bucks, laughing to myself knowing full well without these "adventures in err" I'd have no story.

So with unparalled consensus, I understand no one wants to hear about the color, consistency or quantity of my snot. I apologize. I just wanted to keep it real. But you'll all be happy to know that every minute there is less. And now it is clear. Soon I'll be back to healthy and then who knows what will limit me? My limp? Still noticeable, is getting better everyday too. Hope you are all well. Drop a note, comment or anything else. With much love and aloha, -g.

P.S. Sorry no pictures lately. The computers have been a little shady lately. I'll post some soon. Stay tuned and keep commenting.