Yesterday morning I left my place at four in the morning. Stepping out into the freezing snowy cold, I cursed my fate to be leaving for yet another business trip. Although it’s about a 7-hour plane trip to Venezuela, it would end up being an 18-hour one with all the stopovers. After planes, trains and automobiles, I got to my hotel at 10 pm and collapsed.

Today is Monday, but because of the political problems going on here, there’s a countrywide strike, so I’m not working today. I came out of my room and took stock of my surroundings. Amazing blue skies, golden sand, the sea, lush trees sporting the most ridiculously gaudy flowers and fruits, strange birds and insects. Took my breakfast outside, where I feasted on sweet fresh fruit, and of course, not being in North America, delicious coffee, while re-reading The Two Towers. To top it all off, the musak they played was swing musak. Is God sending me a sign to keep this job or what?

You would be right to wonder why I usually bitch about going away. Business travel is great as a break in the routine, but I find it hard to maintain friendships and close relationships at home when I’m away a lot. I have this fear of falling out of people’s habits to call, of simply losing friends, not abruptly, but gradually passing out of mind. Also, when I actually want to travel, when I want to go somewhere, I simply do.

Those are the reasons I would always rather be home, but I have to admit this whole tropical paradise thing is very cool. I’ll probably be working the rest of the week, but it’s great to have a day to enjoy it.