A Paris evening
A drunk woman is vaguely howling along with the Arabic music pumping from the radio she holds to her ear. The guys she with seem uninterested. African immigrants and refugees fill the shadows,… Continue reading
Tag Archive: traveling
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Paris dreaming
The good news is that I’ve found a new way up to the castle. More interesting, with stuff to see along the way, versus the dull direct path we’ve taken before. As a… Continue reading
Living the dream
I had a dream when I was a kid. A literal, “I’m asleep” kind of dream, that is. This isn’t an inspirational post. In it, I’m swimming along the bottom of the pool,… Continue reading
Photo Friday – Vietnam
The words usually come first. I pick a bunch of them, then find three or four photos from my horde that more-or-less make sense with them. But it’s Friday, and ain’t nobody got… Continue reading
Feeling fine and Florentine
“The Tuscan Frying Pan,” Florence was earning its title that day, certified in sweat dripping down the backs and sides of tourists squinting in the Piazza della Signoria, and my hair felt, again,… Continue reading
Tam Coc Bich Dong is even better than it sounds
The swarm of tourists, cameras around necks, visors against the sun, umbrellas against the rain, and socks up to the knees beat me to the entrance. Crud. But they milled a moment, waiting… Continue reading
New ancient beauty in Phong Nha caves
“Sure, Myanmar’s great now, but you should have seen it five years ago!” Budapest ten years ago. Prague twenty years ago. Kathmandu in the 60’s, man, that’s where it was at! You hear… Continue reading
$3.50 changed (and risked) my life
I was in trouble. Both immediate and longer-reaching. A major part of my life had just shifted, bringing a serious challenge to the way I’d been doing things. Travel, this deep love and… Continue reading
You need a break
It’s all just so obvious. A couple of Trump’s nominees misled their confirmation committees, so the Democrats used what tiny power they have to delay in an effort to have their questions answered.… Continue reading
The Dutch woman in Macedonia who helps me with Trump
The Dutch lady was barely paying attention to our conversation. “It’s Bitola, not Bitola” she said, putting the stress on the first syllable instead of the second. BEET-ola. Grateful for the correction, I… Continue reading
