We woke to new scenery. After a day of the Gobi (like all deserts seen from a train, beautiful at first, and stultifying after seven hours of exactly the same), the small but… Continue reading
Tomorrow, I’ll get on the train to Beijing. I’ve been in Ulaan Baatar one less week than originally planned, but about five days too many. I know, I said I liked the city.… Continue reading
Do not be fooled. Mongolia may have an average of 280 days of sun a year, but that doesn’t mean you get 280 days of warmth. It is remarkable how beautiful the day… Continue reading
On the microbus from Irkutsk to Olkhon Island, the Russian men around me seemed to keep talking about the fact that I was a woman traveling alone and, if I guessed right, making… Continue reading
The sun was radioactively orange, emerging from the silhouettes of old factories whose destiny within the decade will be live-work lofts. The color felt unreal, only elsewhere available in the artifice of nail… Continue reading
As you may have noticed, there were a lot of emotions in Alice Springs. A great upwelling of hope, that push at your sternum like the rumblings of first love, a deep despair… Continue reading
Somewhere on that burnt red off-road track, after my sleepless and sick night of camping in Broome, when my feet burned from sand fly bites and my stomach burned from Sambuca and smoke,… Continue reading
I’m staying in North Perth, but sadly all I can really tell you about the city is how to get to the Wellington Street Bus Station to catch a train to Midland or… Continue reading
Hats, like feathers, aren’t just for the fur and feather mafia anymore. First, Whole Foods started selling Livity hats, then Goorin Brothers opened on College, and soon everyone was wearing fedoras. I mean… Continue reading
At Tantra Coffeehouse in San Marcos, a boy in a fedora served me yerba mate in my own cup. For five minutes, I felt at home. Which is a lot, in Texas.
It’s a sweet, creamy smoothie with some nutty heft.
I worry about writers. They seem so unbusiness-savvy. More apt to lament the reduction in writing opportunities, than learn to work the e-world. One thing writers seem to still know how to do… Continue reading
I can’t find shit on YouTube. Not an ounce of good performances. I mean really. I’m looking for Van Morrison singing anything from Astral Weeks in 1968, then I’m looking for Van Morrison… Continue reading
I would like to capture the color of the moment. The sartorial tweed, a herringbone overlay, and dash of red, or purple, or daffodil, peaking from under a short Italian pant. At dinner,… Continue reading
I remember leaning against the lobster case, heart racing, and muttering to Stephanie, “God, I think I need a cigarette.” The seafood guy, Joseph, had after all begun to make this simple task… Continue reading
In my office there is, of course, a vehement hatred of the McCain-Palin ticket, and yet we spend the majority of our speaking hours talking about her. She is invading our mindspace to… Continue reading
We get in the car today, like we seem to be doing every other hour around here, already 20 minutes late in leaving. We’ve now got ten minutes left to drive the half… Continue reading
This may mean something more romantic and exciting in English than in Spanish. At least, the way I’ve decided to translate it. In Spanish, you might just consider it an ethnic slur. Were… Continue reading
A List: 1. Spiritual trek through India 2. Post high school Eurotour 3. Ecotours in the Australian Outback 4. Architectural restoration in the South of France Or, rather: 1. Poverty tourism. If India’s… Continue reading
I have never been one to consider a car a tool, which is likely why I have now been brought to tears three times as I get my little Cabriolet ready to sell.… Continue reading
