So I’d booked this trip some time ago, around the start of the year, which has to be one of the longest pre-booked trips I’ve done in a while.
Well, the time has finally arrived and it’s time to check in and take off my shoes for security.
The first leg of the journey begins in rainy Vancouver with a stop of in Houston, Texas. I think the theme for the start of the trip was borne out of the first few hours of the day before the flight.
Squeezing in a not so early session at the gym, followed by ever increasing rain as I ran back home to rush pack before I had to catch the bus to get the train, left an indelible mark on future events that were still yet to unfold. Not that I was late to anything, it was the unnecessary pressure which I exerted on myself which was curious (and out of character).
But why allude to things when you can just lude (not a word) and get on and tell the story.
Day 1 – layover in Houston, TX
So you’re all caught up on how I started the day. Needlessly rushed. I did take the time to calm things down with a few pints at the sports bar by my boarding gate, followed up with a few more (four) cans on-board.
The stewardess must had the same morning as 2 of those cans were on the house. Whether on purpose or oversight, much appreciated.
Before I set off I’d made notes of the directions I’d need to get to my hostel the cheapest way possible, public bus. I already had US currency on me, and not in the most convenient denominations as I had thought. This in turn got me a free seat to downtown after the bus driver appreciated my willingness (and ineptitude) to pay $5 into a $1 bill machine.
So after an hour, I got off at the recommended stop and followed the directions to what I assumed was the transfer point for the next bus. The bus routes didn’t match the ones provided by the hostel, which led to some wandering around downtown Houston in search for the correct digits.
After some not so friendly stares and downright refusal of a member of the public to render assistance to this Wi-Fi deficient traveller, someone took the time to point me in the right direction.
This didn’t stop me being sassed by the bus driver for having incorrect fare when asked if I could still take a seat with my payment being short.
So having no idea at which stop I was to get off at this time, I presumptively disembarked, fortuitously (and unknowingly) close to my objective. After recognising the street name in the dark, I could finally check in, and end the night with some burritos and large can of Budweiser, to be rocked to sleep by the flimsiest bed I’ve had in a while.
So Day 1 is in the bag, let’s see if I can figure out the buses for tomorrow’s trip to Belize City, Belize.