“Sometimes it’s a little better to travel than to arrive.”
– Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
I came across this quote while plugging away at Pirsig’s discursives on classical vs. romantic paradigms, inductive/deductive logic, and how Phaedrus drove himself insane simply by thinking too much (a cautionary tale, that). Regardless, while there’s some truth in it, I didn’t feel that way at all at 11:30 this evening when my plane touched down in Quito, Ecuador. Tonight is my sixth consecutive night in a different city; mercifully it’s the final night of my milk run across the northern half of South America, and I’m stationed here till Wednesday. I just finished organizing my laundry–hardly a glamorous activity but certainly a necessary one (I haven’t done laundry since my trip began; who knew the Port of Spain Hyatt wouldn’t have laundry service on Sunday?). And since I have no clothes to speak of, tomorrow I’ll be hard-pressed to leave my hotel. I’m in desperate need of down time–not to mention office time, which I haven’t had since leaving Calgary. I’m glad to be here: I’m a big fan of Ecuador, and that was before J-1s and Alana moved to Quito in August. Plus, wait till you get a load of my view!
But that’s for tomorrow. I’ve earned my eight hours today. This will assuredly not be the case tomorrow…and I, for one, am grateful. Buenos noches.