Home to me are those moments outside the plotting struggles we constantly confront just to meet our needs. Home is waking up and not needing to be anywhere and do anything, which frees you to do the everything your heart needs.
Could we have entered the ocean in a crazier way? Yes. Sure, for what limits hath insanity but that which we impose upon it? Left to the imagination, we could have entered the ocean in a variety of less sane ways. We could have built a gunpowder fueled rocket painted blue and used it to…
As much as I wanted to follow up my yin’d out week at the Sarapatdi Monastery in Thailand with some yang’in by nomading it through the rural Thai countryside, my still broken body was as down with that as a duck with dinner at a patè buffet. I needed to find a situation with a…
I leave Bangkok with nothing more than the name of a town and the hope that I will get there to the mountain where a temple and monastery sit uniquely in Thailand’s interior. I only know about the monastery in the mountains because a shifty British expat using a fake name, sitting outside a 7…
On my second night in Thailand, second night of Songkran, I meet up with legendary travel writer Joe Cummings. He’s the original author of Lonely Planet Thailand, and one of the most notable living nomads breathing today. Having left my ATM card and running low on cash at the bar, I follow advice Bruce Northam…
It’s never easy to leave the place you’ve chosen to call home. But if there’s a sign to look for from the universe that serves as confirmation that it’s time to go, then I’d say a neat pile of shit logs and a puddle of piss on your bedspread on your penultimate night in Antigua,…
Volcano Guatemala – It Could Happen to You The first page of the newspaper feels like oily sandpaper from the volcanic ash clinging to the ink of the lead photo which depicts glowing lava from El Volcan de Fuego, which just blew a plume 600 meters into the troposphere. It adds immediacy to the Prensa…
Travel quotes are those intrepid one-liners we scrawl in our dirty notebook, cut up and tape to our mirror, or in extreme cases, tattoo onto our ass. Travel quotes remind us why we’re chosen the open road instead of, say, the cubicle. Travel quotes remind us why we’ve chosen the open road instead of, say, the…
Towards Semuc Champey, our rusted pickup tumbled like a tank over the muddy rainforest road. Amid a rolling green backdrop, men adjusted their packages in order to avoid them jostling into other men’s asses. We were fifteen dudes packed into the cab of a rumbling pickup truck. “Where are all the girls?” an Australian asked…
Her lyrics are endearingly lovely—like baby bunny rabbits, nestled near lambs, next to hamsters, wearing tiny sweaters. Somehow and AP reporter found her way onto this site, and this year these music mixes and the idea behind them was published as a feel good story all over the press wires with Sharing Music: A Personal…
