Turn Again.

I got lost today. It was great. I wandered around until I no longer recognized street names or landmarks, and I was completely turned around. I’m fairly certain I was just blocks from where I was supposed to be, but I couldn’t be sure. Nor did I care. I just wandered, completely taken in by the cobblestone streets and tiny houses and low-lit smoky pubs. I heard a familiar sound, Dean Martin’s “Ain’t That A Kick In The Head.” The street performer had a mic and a boombox, and he was crooning to Dino, Sinatra and the rest, so I dropped a couple coins in his hat while he was singing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” just because he made me smile. I had a destination on my mind, but I wasn’t in any hurry to get there. I was pretty sure I had passed it about an hour earlier anyway. So I just wandered through shopping malls and markets and bookshops and cafes with no clue as to where I was headed. My backpack was starting to get a little heavy when I finally rounded a corner and saw a familiar landmark. I stopped for coffee at a cafe where I had hoped to get internet (the internet in the house has been down for a couple of days) but couldn’t.

The purpose of my trip was entirely defeated, but I didn’t feel as if my afternoon was wasted. In fact, I feel that this was the best afternoon I had spent since I got here. It wasn’t because I accomplished anything, or learned anything (though I certainly did, from my time spent in Blackwell Books), or did anything particularly useful. It was because I just walked. Just stepped out the front door and let the streets carry me where they will.