A museum

I like to go to museums by myself because no one slows me down or rushes me along. My favorite kids are modern art and natural history museums. I couldn't find any of the latter, but I heard there was a good art museum somewhere on the way out of town, so I went.

It's really amazing to me now to think about how I got around on these travels. I've never been known to have a lot of common sense, and certainly not a lot of navigational ability, and looking back I just say to myself, "What was I thinking?" I have no idea how I got anywhere, or how I managed not to get lost and/or assaulted on this wanderings. In this case, I found the place I wanted to go on a map and just started walking. I know I got lost several times trying to find the curvy little sidestreets I was supposed to take, and I walked into the wrong building more than once. It just astounds me that now, safely back at home, I can't even call for a pizza, but a year ago I could walk miles through countries I'd never been before and often didn't speak the language on a whim with no guidance or help. How can you be so brave one day and back to normal the next?

In any event, Sunday was a weird day. I saw the museum and caught my bus to Glasgow with no real incidents. It rained a little (as usual), and I avoided phonecalls all day from my friends back in England. I think that was the real beginning of the end. Around this time, I just decided never to speak to any of my English friends again and I ended up leaving without a trace. I'm getting ahead of myself here, but as I remember it, this was the day I made the decision. Why I decided to do that remains a mystery, but I suspect it has something to do with making sure my travels never ended.