Our bus is two hours late, only we don’t know that ’til the end of our highly anticipated wait for the right Crucero del Norte to actually show up at the omnibus terminal.
The wrong buses keep popping in, sending us and half the terminal in a frenetic frenzy of repacking, but, no, not this one, so, instead, we attempt productivity and do what every fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants trip necessitates–
It’s a double-edged sword, really, for what one gains in flexibility and reactivity, one loses in on-site planning. Planning time is planning time is planning time, and we could have organized most of our minutes from afar, perhaps, but don’t, which is fine by me as I like a little intrigue and moving through space as intention and intuition guide.
So, now, noses dive into guide books and apps, colored pens outline our trajectory in my spiffy graph-paper, Euro-bought (why, oh why, can’t I find these in the US?) journal, for I am a visual person, and I need to see what our possibilities look like.
Not to mention, I haven’t a clue what is what and where and in relation to what, and general knowledge is too amorphous for buying point-to-point tickets.
It’s time to figure out what our South American grand adventure looks like, or, at least, the next week of it, and no better time to do it than now.