Cargo, but like, not the shipping kind — kinda
woke up to a temperature that’s basically a fridge if you squint. 12.31 is the number that’s stuck in my head now. 1513131 was the room I booked at that hostel. 1860291734 was the number on a sticky note someone left on the fridge. it said ‘call if you need heating’ but the heating is just this weird metal pipe that groans when it works. i just checked and it’s 12.31 right now, hope you like that kind of thing.
the neighborhood here is a mix of people who freeze to death in their sleep and some chaotic artist types who paint murals on dumpsters. if you get bored, [cities] are a short drive away. like, 40 south and you hit a street where everyone rides bikes to work. i heard that. not sure if it’s true. someone told me that the coffee shop on 3rd street brews the best espresso if you can’t find the USB port. i don’t know if that’s a myth. i tried it. it was okay.
here’s where all the chaos is:
this place is stuck between a glacier and a questionable power grid. the streetlights here flicker like they’re arguing with themselves. i took a pic of two power poles last night. they looked like they’d been in a fight.
the third pic? i lost it. probably went missing in a glacier.
someone warned me about walking down 5th avenue at midnight. not because of crime. because of… shadows. like, literally. a local said the ground gets icy and you slip into a void. maybe true. i heard that. maybe not. another drunk told me the museum has a secret room with vintage synths. i’m gonna find that. maybe. if the weather cooperates.
weather is 37% humidity. i don’t know what that means. i just feel like a wet paper towel. the feels_like is 10.56. which is nice? or not? i don’t know. i’m wearing a sweater that’s 10 years old. it’s got a hole in the elbow. practical.
the reviews online are a mess. one tripsadvisor review says the hostel is ‘a place where time forgets your name.’ another yelp says the coffee is ‘depressing but honest.’ i don’t trust either. i think both are true. the local board online has a post that says ‘avoid the pit near the train station.’ i didn’t avoid it. i fell in. literally. there’s a pool there now. no one told me.
i’m not sure what i wanted from this trip. maybe to feel small. maybe to find a place where the numbers don’t matter. 1513131 means nothing now. neither does 1860291734. but the map shows me back to the place where i started. which is probably good.
links: if you want to check the hostel, see tripadvisor.com. if you’re obsessed with coffee, hit yelp.com. if you’re brave, maybe localboards.whatever.
tags: travel cargo human vibe messy
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