Where in the world is Kevco?

1 - The First Step

kevco — Fri, 7 Sep 2018 08:54:00 GMT

1 - The First Step

It is said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step. While this is mostly true (there are travelers in wheel chairs after all) how often do you ever think as you are leaving out your front door on a trip “This is my first step on the journey” ? Answer: “Not really...”. With all the packing, arranging, schlepping and checking that nothing is forgotten, it is rare that we focus on “The Journey” as we initially embark. Only later, after we are settled in, do we allow ourselves the luxury of examining that first step. In this instance it was aboard an aircraft after having passed the myriad of security checks and the boarding process. So what was found upon careful examination of that first step? Was it the culmination of many weeks of planning? The liberation of finally setting off on the adventure? The exultation of freedom from the normal life? No. It was none of those things. What it was....was lost in the shuffle of departure. Nothing special. No brass band. No ticker tape parade...just another step lost in the many to come, but without it...there could not come another.

Ok, enough with the philosophy already. What kind of way is that to start a blog? Dare I say...the first step? No...didn't think so.

That first step led to a few more to get to my buddy Leo's truck who was taking me to the train station. As I had putted around with last minute details we were running a bit late. Let the bumbles begin. Got to the station with five minutes to spare...I thought. Turns out the train was not a 5:52...but a 5:46! There went the five minutes to spare. In fact, as we arrived the parking lot the bells on the crossing gate started to ring! The train was coming as I dragged my gear to the ticket machine. Stuffed a $10 in the machine instead of trying to mess with a credit card. The train was now at the station and stopped. The machine cooperated and spat out a ticket to the large lower tray then proceeded to rain down 5 dollar coins which jumped and wiggled in the tray and then laid absolutely flat defying any attempts to pick them with by a hurried hand. “All Aboard!” was heard as the last of the elusive coins were rounded up and the bags dragged to the train which was waiting for me. Yes I was THAT person who was holding up the train. Apologies to those that were detained for the additional 30 seconds. Once aboard it was a short hop to Ft. Lauderdale where my brother, David was waiting with open arms. It was really nice to be met at the station by him. Think it will be the only time for the next few months that anyone will be waiting for my arrival with such a welcome. We went over to his place on the water where they had only recently put in new windows to good effect. After a swim and some chow it was off to bed to prepare for a 4:45 am wake up to to get to the airport in time for a 7am flight to Los Angles.

Woke up 15 minutes before the alarm. Packed up, had some Frosted Flakes (they were GREAT! (as Tony the tiger would say) along with some coffee to fire up the departure engine. Traffic to the airport was light at that hour. No problems checking in. South West Air has an open seating policy with no reserved seats but they DO board according to what group you are in. Having booked as soon as the 24 hour window of opportunity opened at 7am the previous day put me in group “B”. Found out there are 60 people in each group so a window seat was available and quickly taken by the your favorite bumbler. No one we in the middle seat...(yea!) The first leg of the trip was to Tampa where half of the full flight got off. Remained on the plane another 30 minutes then the group headed to LA boarded. Almost got the middle seat empty until a nice mom showed up. It was cold on the plane with no blankets available. Seems they removed them after the chicken pox epidemic. Shades of the trail of tears. As you recall that was when our government was “relocating” native American Indians to colder climes and generously provided free blankets. Only hitch was that they had been previously used by patients with small pox.

But I digress.

Seeing the lady was cold and had given her blanket to her kids it was only proper to offer to share my warm and toasty down jacket with her which she graciously accepted. Damsels in distress a specialty. Caught a few winks and before we knew it we were there ...a half hour early. Bless those tail winds. Now for a day of further adventure in Los Angles.

Took the “Super Shuttle” into downtown LA. $20...right to Tommy's work address...good deal. Met with Cousin Tommy at his office where he writes grants for arts and educational institutions. Nice office. We went to have lunch at the LA Flix cafe which is the downtown studios cafeteria. Pricey..but good 2 fish sandwiches and a couple of sodas for 27.00 .... From there he had to go back to work. I called up a union stage buddy, Mike Moore, who is in LA to set up and run the touring production of “Hamilton” which will be here for 7 weeks. Fortunately he had the day off so we met up at his apartment which, as luck would have it was not a very good one being right on the street. As I arrived he was just moving to a better one. He blamed the good luck on me. OK, I have broad shoulders...I can carry that blame. From there we headed out to adventure on the metro system which we took up to the Hollywood station. Getting out we were walking on all the stars inlaid in the sidewalk. Many of these evoked memories of personal experiences with them through a 50 year career. Many more from watching them on old TV shows. Cruised over to a coffee shop for a Machaito. They we $4 each...about what you'd expect. The classic part was when they came...there was only a quarter of a cup of coffee in each. I really wish that someone had filmed our reaction...we both did the same thing. Looked in the cup...looked at each other then looked at the guy then back to the cup, then the guy. We expressed our interest as to what had happened to the rest of the cup? The barista said “ that IS a double machiato” Of course we were quick to point out that when such a thing was ordered at a Starbucks, it came with the rest of the coffee in the cup. Perhaps if there had been only one of us he would have said “that's what you get” but faced with two grumpy old guys he relented with a shake of his head and filled them up the rest of the way with coffee. The resultant concoction was very tasty indeed and provided the much needed boost to our meanderings.

The next thing we found was another subway station which we took us back to “Little Tokyo” where we wandered around for a bit then said our farewells. It was good to see Mike and get to hang for a bit in a distant city from home. I must say that having a subway system in Los Angles makes it feels more like a real city. Not that it wasn't before..it was just never as “connected” and easy to get around as a tourist...or as a ”touristo” as a bumbler might be called.

Next mission was to find a Korean restaurant where Tommy and I were to have dinner. With just a little trail and error the Song Dong was found and a table procured. Nice little place of a dozen tables. Had the short rib soup with “glass” noodles while Tommy ordered the “Bim Bam Boondoggle” (made with real dog I suppose) or something like that served in a sizzling stone pot. He shared some and it was really good. One of those moments where you say ”Aw..that's what I should have ordered” yet when someone orders a favorite thing in an Asian restaurant it seems like a cop out to order the same thing. Variety the spice of life and all that. Still...it was good. The meal came with several side dishes gratis while the staff was most welcoming and pleasant. Even more pleasant was Tommy grabbing the check and apologizing for the expensive lunch. What a guy. It was really good to be able to spend a little time with him.

The legendary LA traffic was much more apparent on the airport run. Patience was rewarded by the eventual attainment of our goal...the International terminal. Hopped out and gave the Cuz a hug and a “fare thee well” and he was off into the thick of the traffic amidst blaring horns and waived fists. Inside the terminal a quick reconnoiter found an abandoned rolling luggage trolley which soon housed the gear while in search of the Air Tahiti Nui desk. It was really convenient as the rolling rig I had was a band-air repair to my fragile ego. Ok..I admit ..I wasn't entirely forthright previously when describing the dash for the train. There was a causality..and a failure. The rolling rig I had spent so much time trying to perfect did not work exactly as planned. In the current incarnation of the ideal travel system to the activity (in this case trekking the Milford sound trail of some 54 km) I would pack in many sub-compartmentalized units (one for sox, one for undies, one for shirts etc.) these would go into a real Osprey Ather 70liter backpack which had been used for the 4 month Colombian adventure a couple of years ago. Five pounds lighter than the old faithful 28” 75 liter Meridian which was my mainstay pack for the last five years. I had unfortunately made the huge mistake of returning the pack to Osprey for repair as it had worn out in the corners. They have the lifetime “No matter what” guarantee where you can exchage it for a new one if they can't repair it. This I had done months before. The new on arrived and had major design modifications. Used to be the good pack harness could be detached, presumably to give more room if one was not planing to carry the pack one one's back just roll it to the taxi I guess. I had used it to attach to the day pack to make said day pack into more of a real pack with a waist belt to distribute the weight better and make a few day excursions into the wilderness possible. The new model did away with such a possibility making the $380 pack useless to me. Instead...I had used the real backpack. Inserted into a duffel-like shell made for transport I found that it could be turned upside down and held by a really cool collapsible Samsonite rolling dolly. By putting a cutting board in the top of the pack, when inverted it would provide support for the rig. I had tried it in the house. It worked fine. When it was dumped out of the truck in a hurry to make the train..it was off center. The result was a pack that was dragged on concrete enough to make a hole in the dunffle AND the pack itself. Bummer dude. Required a bit o sewing at my Bro's house prior to transit. The real bummer was the failure of the rolling rig itself. Abandoned the luggage carrier at Dave's house. Now it was a carry only proposition. Oh well, can't “roll” with it so just gotta go with it. Don't have to like it...just have to do it.

Ok, so now we are back at the airport at ten at night getting ready for the 8 hour flight to Tahiti. Not missing the ability to roll just yet. Found the desk and checked in. No problems. Went through the security line a bit miffed that Southwest had not included my TSA approved known traveler number so I had to wait in the long “take off your shoes” line. Made it through with just a brief check on my summer sausage which was frought along to offset the cost of high priced meals in exotic destinations Case in point...the $15 cheeseburger I just ate while typing this...but more about his later...first we have the flight to take.

Getting on the plane was pretty good. Got the window seat. No one was sitting next to me so far. The hands on the clock ticked slowly by, all the while watching the aisle for that last passenger to board who was going to sit right next to me . Never happened. Thank you Jesus, thank you Lord. Had the extra seat to stretch out in for the rest of the flight. As long as one is comfortable in the condensed fetal position for hours on end it is possible to sleep on such a flight. Alas...it was not meant to be. Tossing and turning was the name of the game. Should have taken the Xanax...but just did not want to be all sleepy on arrival. Instead...I was just tired. Food was good for airline food. I guess anything to eat is a bonus these days, flights cost cutting being what it is.

Ok arrived at 5am. Went through immigration and the long line. Got the pack right away and headed to customs for inspection. The first of which was one for fruits and meats. Having seen signs for inspection of fruits, and meats, thought it prudent to render unto the customs dude my summer sausage. No really...I had brought a large summer sausage with me as I had previously on prior trips. The guy was real nice and smiled and put these bio-hazard stickers o n the products and waved me through with a smile. I had totally forgotten about the half of a ham turkey subway sandwich acquired in LA for emergency. Off I went to the baggage claim and on to the inspection of said bags. The customs man was having everyone submit their bags for a ride on the ole x-ray machine. Maybe he had seen me joking with the other guy but he pulled me out of the line and waved me right through without nary a glance at my pack. Note: to God and the saints “I Love you guys!”

Ok 5am. In Tahiti. Check in supposed to be at 2pm. Not in a hurry. Enjoyed the sun rising over the clouds with pink-ish hues and...ok...Paul Gaugan pastel colors lighting up the sky. Beautiful. Thanks again big guys. With time to kill tried to check out tourist info. As it happened....August 15 it the feast of the Ascension. A holiday. No buses running. At the airport. Taxi's $20 or more. Humm....went to airport info. Asked about other options. They said rent a car. While there, might as well check on rental cars. The main ones were costly. There was a place called Eco Car across the parking lot. Went there and they were pretty nice. Didn't really want to rent one then as a few days in town exploring would not require transport. They told me to just book it online when needed. Ok, swell. They said they had a guy going into town shortly and he would give me a lift. Waited 15 minutes then off we went. Driver seemed like a good guy. I had seen him working hard cleaning a car while waiting. He was kind of distracted and a little unhappy. Asked what the problem was...he said he had forgotten his $1000 for lunch ($10USD) and would have to skip it. Offered to lend him the money until I came back for the rental car in a couple of days. He said he didn't know me and it wouldn't be right. Further validation that he was a good guy. Said it would have cost me to take a cab in anyway so please take at least half of that...or $5, he relented and seemed relieved. He was a big fellow and would want some lunch. He was grateful. Dropped me off at Mahana Lodge where the bunk was booked right downtown Papeete.

At the hostel the lady seemed nice and showed me around. Very little English was in her vocabulary. My French was not so great but we were able to communicate enough to check me into a 12 bunk dorm. Needed to remover the boots before entering as did everyone else. Quiet place which was just fine to get over the jet lag. Pretty good kitchen facilities. Other than the lack of attention from the folks at the front desk who did not speak English it would do.

2 - Onward to Peru

kevco — Mon, 4 Dec 2017 01:06:00 GMT

Onward to Peru

Chapter 2

The trip to the airport was filled with further bumbles as I opted to take the bus. I had forgotten that you need to have a plastic card first so that you can charge it up with cash. Bought the card and enough credit to get to the airport. After being redirected several times I made it to the initial bus. These are really long double jointed buses which fill very quickly once the doors open. Needless to say I was left standing for the trip...even though there are special seats for seniors. Granted I don't really look like a senior...but after the rough nights' sleep I could have used a seat. One really cute thing that happened in one of the tunnels going to the bus concerned a three year old girl. She was a cute as could be and hanging on her mothers arm. As we neared each other the little girl must have had an itch because she grabbed her pants and pulled them down in back. Just like the girl in the Coppertone sun tan oil ad...sans dog. Her mom had a huge embarrassed (no pun intended of course) grin and I did as well. One of those moments which are so small yet so precious. Transferred to the airport bus and got through security with no problems and went to wait a couple hours before the flight. This was intentional as I really needed to keep up the journal so I made a little forced time to work.
One of the big problems of keeping a journal when you travel is making time to do so. There you are in some other country or location wanting to experience the total picture...and you have to do homework! Case in point..it has taken me a week to get around to writing this se.gment. I know this sad story must touch you deeply so enough about my woes and on to Peru.
My buddy Alvaro found me and we chatted a bit with his wife and a friend from Bogota who was joining them on the trip to the salt flats. The flight was a bit rough but since we were in the mountains going to sea level...it was down hill all the way. Once in Peru we asked about quality of the airport ceveche and were assured that it was top notch. As it was already dark out and we only had three hours we decided to just stay in the airport and eat. While not the best I had ever had it was pretty good...if expensive. Alvaro wouldn't let me pay..protest as I may. We then proceeded to the gate and boarded for the uphill leg of the trip. It was a good time to get a little shut eye as we were not going to arrive before 1:30am. I had done the immigration forms on the plane so I went right through. Alvaro and his group were waiting for another person in their party who was not due in until 2:30am and they had to do the immigration forms as well. We parted with assurances of being in touch.
Getting my bag and heading to customs I was a little nervous as they pulled me aside and made me unpack my bag for a through search. Apparently the thing they saw on the screen which inspired their curiosity was my rectangular mini jam box for blue tooth music. It is a solid metal object and I guess they didn't like not being able to see inside of it. Once they knew what it was it was all good. I must say that the weeks of packing and repacking my bag really paid off here as I knew exactly how everything went back in and was able to zip it up with no embarrassment. Hardly worth all the work..but I find that if you don't do such a thing you wind up spending many hours working out your load and exactly how it should fit. Admittedly I bring a fair amount of stuff so there is not too much extra room in there.
So here it was...2:30 am at 13,845 feet above sea level with a good stiff wind and temperatures in the 40's. Found a radio cab. You don't want to take just any cab there or it may be your last ride! The driver was a good sport as he loaded my bag and waited while I took a picture with my cel phone of his license plate. Really good idea to do this as the driver knows that you have a record of who he is...if they object...find another cab. As it was late at night he took the back way through the town...saves the toll. This takes you through a pretty hard neighborhood. As cold as it was there was this guy...he was leaning against a wall with his hip touching it, bent over double, propped up so he didn't have to tough the cold ground...and he was asleep!
Everything was going according to plan...except for the fact that we couldn't find the hotel. This time I had written the address down but it was still very hard to find. Eventually we did and I tipped the driver an extravagant extra 10 Bolivianos...he was very happy as people don't generally tip much there. Ok...so there are 7 bolivianos to a dollar...I can't help it if we have a good exchange rate...I was still making my brother proud as a high roller!
At the hotel the bad news was that I was given a 2nd floor room on the street. Very noisy...even with the ear plugs. The next morning I made clear my intention to leave unless I got a better room. The showed me one which was OK but triple the price. When I didn't bite, they showed me one which was shabby but not on the street. Quiet and dark with a large wardrobe for me to put my stuff. OK...this will do for the $10 a night I would be paying. Only problem was that there was no heat and the room stayed a toasty 60 degrees.
San Perdo was an area of La Paz which I was not familiar with. A little ways from the heart of the tourist center...which was what I was looking for. A nice square with many street vendors. But I digress. So ends another segment.

The Bumbling Touristo 8-17-17

Onward to Peru

kevco — Mon, 20 Nov 2017 03:03:00 GMT

Onward to Peru

Chapter 2

The trip to the airport was filled with further bumbles as I opted to take the bus. I had forgotten

that you need to have a plastic card first so that you can charge it up with cash. Bought the card and

enough credit to get to the airport.

After being redirected several times I make it to the initial bus. These are really long double jointed

buses which fill very quickly once the doors open. Needless to say I was left standing for the trip...even

though there are special seats for seniors. Granted I don't really look like a senior...but after the rough

nights' sleep I could have used a seat. One really cute thing that happened in one of the tunnels going to

the bus concerned a three year old girl. She was a cute as could be and hanging on her mothers arm. As

we neared each other the little girl must have had an itch because she grabbed her pants and pulled

them down in back. Just like the girl in the Coppertone sun tan oil ad...sans dog. Her mom had a huge

embarrassed (no pun intended of course) grin and I did as well. One of those moments which are so

small yet so precious. Transferred to the airport bus and got through security with no problems and

went to wait a couple hours before the flight. This was intentional as I really needed to keep up the

journal so I made a little forced time to work.

One of the big problems of keeping a journal when you travel is making time to do so. There

you are in some other country or location wanting to experience the total picture...and you have to do

homework! Case in point..it has taken me a week to get around to writing this se.gment. I know this

sad story must touch you deeply so enough about my woes and on to Peru.

My buddy Alvaro found me and we chatted a bit with his wife and a friend from Bogota who

was joining them on the trip to the salt flats. The flight was a bit rough but since we were in the

mountains going to sea level...it was down hill all the way. Once in Peru we asked about quality of the

airport ceveche and were assured that it was top notch. As it was already dark out and we only had

three hours we decided to just stay in the airport and eat. While not the best I had ever had it was pretty

good...if expensive. Alvaro wouldn't let me pay..protest as I may. We then proceeded to the gate and

boarded for the uphill leg of the trip. It was a good time to get a little shut eye as we were not going to

arrive before 1:30am. I had done the immigration forms on the plane so I went right through. Alvaro

and his group were waiting for another person in their party who was not due in until 2:30am and they

had to do the immigration forms as well. We parted with assurances of being in touch.

Getting my bag and heading to customs I was a little nervous as they pulled me aside and made

me unpack my bag for a through search. Apparently the thing they saw on the screen which inspired

their curiosity was my rectangular mini jam box for blue tooth music. It is a solid metal object and I

guess they didn't like not being able to see inside of it. Once they knew what it was it was all good. I

must say that the weeks of packing and repacking my bag really paid off here as I knew exactly how

everything went back in and was able to zip it up with no embarrassment. Hardly worth all the

work..but I find that if you don't do such a thing you wind up spending many hours working out your

load and exactly how it should fit. Admittedly I bring a fair amount of stuff so there is not too much

extra room in there.

So here it was...2:30 am at 13,845 feet above sea level with a good stiff wind and temperatures

in the 40's. Found a radio cab. You don't want to take just any cab there or it may be your last ride!

The driver was a good sport as he loaded my bag and waited while I took a picture with my cel phone

of his license plate. Really good idea to do this as the driver knows that you have a record of who he

is...if they object...find another cab. As it was late at night he took the back way through the

town...saves the toll. This takes you through a pretty hard neighborhood. As cold as it was there was

this guy...he was leaning against a wall with his hip touching it, bent over double, propped up so he

didn't have to tough the cold ground...and he was asleep!

Everything was going according to plan...except for the fact that we couldn't find the hotel. This

time I had written the address down but it was still very hard to find. Eventually we did and I tipped

the driver an extravagant extra 10 Bolivianos...he was very happy as people don't generally tip much

there. Ok...so there are 7 bolivianos to a dollar...I can't help it if we have a good exchange rate...I was

still making my brother proud as a high roller!

At the hotel the bad news was that I was given a 2nd floor room on the street. Very noisy...even

with the ear plugs. The next morning I made clear my intention to leave unless I got a better room. The

showed me one which was OK but triple the price. When I didn't bite, they showed me one which was

shabby but not on the street. Quiet and dark with a large wardrobe for me to put my stuff. OK...this

will do for the $10 a night I would be paying. Only problem was that there was no heat and the room

stayed a toasty 60 degrees.

San Perdo was an area of La Paz which I was not familiar with. A little ways from the heart of

the tourist center...which was what I was looking for. A nice square with many street vendors. But I

digress. So ends another segment.

The Bumbling Touristo 8-17-17

Back to Bolivia

kevco — Mon, 20 Nov 2017 02:56:00 GMT

Further Adventures of the Bunbling Turisto

Back to Bogota

8/11/2017

It was a rainy day in South Florida when my buddy Leo drove me to the train station.

From there it was a brief hour and change to the Miami airport where the locals seemed

to know I was heading for South America...as they all seemed to be speaking Spanish.

Boarded the 4 hour flight around 6pm for a 6:30 departure. The flight was good

and the best part was my first bit of luck in the form of the guy sitting nest to me. His

name was Alvero and he was from La Paz, Bolivia, my final destination on this series of

flights. He was also laying over for 17 hours in Bogota. As his wife was rather motion

sensitive...she had opted to sit in the center of the jet, putting Alvero next to me. He

turned out to be a good guy and a fountain of information as far as La Paz and it's

surrounding countries. He told me of a huge festival in Cochabamba on August 14. It

just so happens that his brother lives there and he said he would be glad to show me

around during the festival. This was one day earlier then I had planned to leave La

Paz...but hey, I'm flexible if it's a big event and I've got a friend I haven't met yet. He

and his wife were leaving for Uyni salt flats the day after they arrived in La Paz so he

would not be there. His wife Yenis, graciously invited me to come along to the salt

flats with them, but I have already been to the salt flats in Salta in northern Argentina.

Now I'm no expert, but it seems to me if you've see one massive salt flat...you've seen

them all. I mean it's a salt flat right? They are flat and made of salt. Perhaps I may go

anyway if I'm in the neighborhood. We spoke of many things and became fast friends.

I had asked both on the phone with Avianca airlines and in the Miami airport if I

could just check my 22.5 Kilo (50lbs) bag through to La Paz with out having to take it

with me during the 17 hour layover in Bogota. I was told “no” on the phone so I was a

little surprised when they said OK at the airport. Not really believing them and

expecting my bag to be on the carousel I waited there for awhile just to be sure. Alvero

and his wife were waiting on a bag as they were staying with relatives there so I waited

with them. When they were all set we bid adieu until the marrow when we would be

catching the 3:30 flight to Lima together. About now I realized that I had packed my

day bag with the intention of getting m big bag in Bogota. This meant that I had only

the clothes I was wearing for the Bogota adventure. Fortunately I had packed an

adequate toiletry kit and my Nemo memory foam inflatable pillow as well as a down

jacket just in case so I was OK at the hostel. I'll be the first to admit Jack Reacher I am

not...but for today I am following his dress code. In truth it felt pretty good to have a

very small pack to curse around town with.

The next adventure was getting to the hostel. It was called...wait for it...El Pit...I

kid you not. I had gotten really good reviews and was under $10 a night so I simply

could not resist checking it out. The bumble part now ensues. I had printer problems

before I left, so not wanting to spring for a new printer and have it sit idle for months I

just toughed it out figuring I could get the address with my old Clario cel phone sim

card once I got to Columbia. Humm...didn't work...who knew these cards expired? It

had only been two years. Once I landed I pulled up the image of the Hostel on the cel

phone using the airport wi-fi. I was headed for the taxi stand when a guy asked me if I

needed a cab. He wanted 50,000 Colombian pesos...roughly $30 us. After

negotiations we settled on 32,ooo or roughly $11. Quite a deal for a 45 minute cab

ride...or so I thought.

He took me up a flight of stairs and made a deal with the ACTUAL taxi driver...I'm sure

he got his share. The driver said he knew where it was. We chatted for a while and was

actually able to carry on a conversation of sorts in Spanish...who knew?

When we got to the Candellaria district he admitted he did not know where the

hostel was...and as I could not get the phone to work I could not look it up. We resorted

to asking people at random. No one seemed to have heard of it. Not a good sign, not a

good sign at all. Finally we asked a guy outside a bar to look it up in HIS phone. This

he graciously did. Turns out it was not in the district at all but in the (again, I kid you

not) the Macarenia some twenty blocks away.

Armed with this new information we proceeded down some really twisty streets.

At one point when he thought we were close there was a ramp which was closed and

coned off. I guess he saw something down the ramp as he said something like “I'll be

back” and proceeded to leave me in the cab and took off running down the ramp.

Humm...was this a stolen cab? I can't imagine any cab driver doing this anywhere in the

USA with the possible exception of the Midwest. After about five minutes he returned

and seemed to know how to get there. As I could not see down the ramp I don't know if

he consulted a crystal ball...or perhaps a crystal skull...or maybe just a policeman. At

any rate it wasn't long before he was backing up into traffic then trunin to go up hill the

wrong way up a one way street. I guess this is a version of a Colombian shortcut.

Whatever...it worked in in just a scant few minutes I spotted the hostel as I remembered

it from the picture...so long ago.

He got out of the cab and ran up to ring the bell of the hostel. No response...after

a couple of minutes a nice young guy who we had obviously woken up came to the

door.

He asked if I had a reservation. I assured him I did...and if he had internet I could bring

it up for him. Then he said not to worry about it as the computer was not working

anyway! Meanwhile...back at the cab...the driver was still there lending moral support.

This is actually quite something considering it had been an hour and a half since we left

yet he seemed content to wait for me to be all settled. I figured that he would now ask

for a large some...but when I asked him how much...he said it was still the same amount.

I gave him 35,000 and he was smiling...when I tipped him another 5000 he was

beaming. I was really being a high roller...my brother would be proud. In reality I gave

him and additional $1.75 but that's beside the point. In his mind I was still a generous,

magnanimous gringo touristo.

When I got in the hostel it was OK. Rather old woodwork and all the traditional

hostel stuff on the bulletin board. He took me upstairs and as I was sharing a 4 bed

hostel I was concerned about waking the others up. As it happened...luck was with me

in one regard...I was the only one in the room! Yea. The less than good part was that it

was a street front room and traffic was still heavy. Oh well...that's why one packs one's

earplugs and sleep blinders. A quick brush of the teeth and off to dreamland in spite of

the traffic for a solid four hours ...until the morning rush hour began around six. Tossed

and turned for an additional hour then gave up and went down stairs for the included

breakfast which consisted of first...two cups of coffee, then two slices of toast, one egg

a few slices of banana and some papaya chunks. All in all not a bad deal total value for

the

$11.00us I guess the extra dollar was for the towel.

Grabbing my ultra light 15lb pack I headed out on foot toward the center of

Bogota, which I vaguely remembered from two years ago. With map in hand I strolled

out into the drizzle of a 50 degree day. Glorious compared to the 90 degree heat and

humidity I fled from in Florida. I was in search of my chess buddy who I played

frequently a couple of years ago. Alas...our rematch was not in the cards today.

After wandering around a couple of hours I had various street eats and actually

managed to navigate to the hostel I had stayed at two years ago on the first attempt.

Curious. About now I began to think about a real lunch. I asked a fellow who was

bounding a soccer ball off his head to his son back and forth for a recommendation. He

said to go down the street to the Olympic...so I did . When I got there it was a

supermarket...I was about to leave when I asked a lady working there if she knew of a

place to eat nearby. She simply pointed upstairs. Went up and found a small cafeteria

with lots of local favorites. I opted for the roast chicken. They gave me a plate heaped

with three checken breasts and a thigh with wings and some potatoes. The whole plate

cost $3 and I wound up giving the rest to a guy who looked really hungry. He was a

traveling poet. Interesting fellow and appreciative, From there is was off to the bus to

get to the airport. More to follow.

Kevco