Terminalone: Notes from Tulum

Everytime i go travelling and i am in the airport, i always see the sign for Terminal One and read it as TERMINALONE...and think to myself...i am once again here alone, travelling, me and the bubble of the world....

March 22 07

measured among the many couples here....young hand holders and older Germans and this insanely obese pair, there are very few single travellers. Families, yes. Girlfirends, yes. But nearly no one like me. Except one woman just now at the Hotel Cabanas where i am staying...with corkscrew hair and a round little body and purple tee shirt. asspack, eating alone, like me. Come to think of it, i havent seen ANYone eating alone....no wait...there was that guy with glasses in the bar by the money exchange. Then there was that woman with glasses, smiling, reading her book like i am, and watching everyone, life, children, loud trucks, arguing grandmothers, walk by with this smile on her face...she is distanced from life and its fine for her...and me...we are observer-travellers...content to watch people love and fight...from a distance like its a lovely flower we are bending down to smell...being sure not to damage it...

March ? 07

i walked and walked to the nature preserve, down a dusty road, an hour or so, got to a beach full of trash, mexican families relaxing on a sunday, and i fell asleep for 20 minutes exhausted then went down to the beach and was getting in the water when a dog came over to my bag and peed on it. I shooed him away. pee on my shirt, shorts and bag. I'm trying to think of it as good luck in another culture...

March ? 07

This is me on my trip: drinking wine from the bottle because i have no cups, munching on he electric chemical taste of Sabritas con limon, the door and windows open, the water active and frothy, the sand blown up to the step of my patio like snowdrifts. I'm alone again, another trip by myself, which gives me all the time i need to listen to 'I'm like a bird" on my ipod when i walk on the beach at night and get all sobby when i semi sing the lines "i dont know where my home is, i dont know where my heart is", enough time to look at stars which last night glinted from behind closer clouds and looked complicated and secretive, and once again wondering if i am on a path, by myself, if i should have brought my encyclopedia of Astronomy because there wont be someone standing next to me anytime soon who can explain doplar shifts and light speeds and firmaments to me. I'm not whining about this i swear....this doesnt feel like a lack...its the 37 year old me who is proud of himself, who continues to signal outward and maybe that is my job, to constanly signal...