And boy, is it about time. I’ve been thinking about the difference between being alone in a friend’s house and alone in a hotel room. There were days I saw almost nothing of my hosts (Mark is in San Jose most of the time anyway), so I really was on my own. I explored the town, met people in bars, and all the stuff I would do if I was a total stranger in town. But it was different, no doubt about that.
Something about belonging. I’ll work something up from the road, which calls louder with each passing minute.