Lycian Way Day One, the part where we almost died
The beach was so beautiful, so open and warm, I had no idea that within three hours I’d be calculating the risk of death by exposure, freezing to death in the mountains versus… Continue reading
Category Archive: Europe
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Lycian Way, Day One, mighty fine indeed
You know the Camino de Santiago, you’ve read about the Appalachian Trail, and you saw that movie about the Pacific Crest Trail, but have you heard of the Lycian Way? The 540 kilometer… Continue reading
Cutest darn thief I’ve ever seen
Turkey would not be a good place for a celiac, the thought occurred to me (for the twentieth time this trip) when the waiter brought my sandwich, chicken and peppers hidden somewhere in… Continue reading
I am defeated.
I am defeated. Laid low. Destroyed and demolished. You see, I have that most dreadful of afflictions, and though it pains me to see it written, the curse made manifest in font and… Continue reading
Love in/ing Istanbul
Seeing a US fast food chain in Istanbul is like running into a crass, boorish American tourist in the Hagia Sophia; not far from my hotel there’s a Burger King talking on its… Continue reading
Brothers gone Turkish
Apparently my brother and I used to fight like cats and dogs, squids and whales, birds and bullet trains, though I barely remember any of that. But we’re in a good patch lately,… Continue reading
The “Spanish Robin Hood” is just the beginning; Feelgood Friday
Ready to feel good? Unemployment in Spain right now is 37%, and over 55% among the 16-24. Banks are foreclosing on people right and left, and when this happens in Spain, you… Continue reading
There are worse things than having been racist
The contractor was measuring the ceiling in my lady’s house when he noticed he’d tracked dog poo all over the kitchen floor. It was awkward, but he helped clean it up, cleaned his… Continue reading
Gifts in Granada
That last post about Tarifa came from an old journal, a paragraph not relevant enough to include in my book, but I enjoyed giving it a little life somewhere else. Another such moment… Continue reading
Alone together in Tarifa
If Spain were a big, worrisomely lumpy breast, then Tarifa would be the downward-sagging nipple, poking across the Strait of Gibraltar at my goal for the day: Morocco. But Tarifa was also the… Continue reading
