It occured to me as I was standing in the rain at a bus stop-less bus stop, gazing into the middle of nowhere outside of a "crocodile farm"; that in my own sick way, I was really enjoying this. The woman in the croc farm had informed me that the bus would surely show up at 1:00, 1:30 or 2:00 p.m. These, it seemed, were not options, but rather possibilities.
And thus, there I was, standing roadside wondering to myself if the woman had mis-understood me. Perhaps she had thought I had asked, where is the best place to stand awkwardly in the rain for an hour and half? If that were in fact the case, then I had surely found the perfect spot.
You might be asking yourself, given my hefty dose of sarcasm here, why in the world would this fella be enjoying this particular moment of clear confusion and helplessness? Well, I might be asking myself the same thing. But, given a world of alternatives - sitting in a meeting, waking up early for work, driving in traffic, paying my taxes - standing in the rain with no need to be anywhere of consequence any time soon, or really any time at all for that matter, really seemed like a nice way to spend an afternoon.
There is a writer named J. Maarten Troost, who has written two books about his time living in the South Pacific. In his latest book, he recounts moving back to Washington D.C and taking on a banking job before chucking it all and moving back to the South Pacific. In assessing his life, he looks back on a day living in Kiribati where he spent an entire day attempting to move a dead pig from his yard. Not a pleasant activity, but as he mentions, that was a great day, because at least something interesting had happened.
That, is why I love travel. Something interesting just always seem to happen. No matter how mundane.
Okay then, now that I've gotten that out of me, I'm off to catch a plane to the Kelabit Highlands of Borneo. Will probably be out of touch for a bit, but the modern world has surprised me before, so you never know.