Something happens when you travel–or at least when I travel–I lose all sense of time. It feels as though I’ve been away for decades, not just 3 days.
Monday I arrived in Houston, and immediately went to work.
There’s my organization’s Center for Maritime Education. In the port of Houston. Let me tell you, hanging in the Port of Houston does not leave such a great impression of Houston. In fact, it barely registered. Except for my dinner at Ibiza; I don’t think I’ve had as good a meal traveling as I had here. Kudos to Ibiza–very delish.
Tuesday morning I went running–3.5 miles around the airport hotel. I mapped out my route but promptly got lost (on the first turn, for crying out loud). But I found my way home, and all went well. My thoughts on running in this city: 1. wow, it’s flat. The only hills were the speed bumps in the neighborhood. 2. it doesn’t get light til nearly 7:15am. and 3. wow. it’s flat.
Wednesday, we hosted our event at the CME, and then my colleague and I headed for NOLA. Now I’m ensconced in my colleague’s home until tomorrow when we leave for our meetings in New Orleans. The six-hour trip by car between Houston and Covington (where I am now) wasn’t the most beautiful drive in the world, but driving through the Atchafalaya swamp was way cool.
Tomorrow is my running tour! Can. not. wait!