After a glorious, soul-warming morning spent hiking the verdant topography of Pacifica, some problems arose. I had ran down the mountain trail, and had apparently ran too vigorously, because the shirts I had taken off and stuffed in my pocket had been jogged out somewhere along the way. The only other clothing I had (other…
…was what I was mouthing my entire time in Pacifica, a sea-dewed town south of San Francisco pressed towards the ultramarine sea by yellow-green hills. Still being on East Coast time, I awoke in my sister’s apartment at 5 AM. I could’ve snuggled back into her couch, but the excitement of the new day vibrated…
“Heeey. Hey.” I turned from the queue leading to the greasy bullet-proof partition that separated the Vietnamese cashier and her products from the customers. A 30-something black woman with short, blonde-tipped dreads was close enough to my face for me to smell her booze-breath. “Hey,” I responded. “Could you buy me a dollarbeer?” “Uh…” I…
-have you heard from him in the last few days? -No…why…what did he do NOW? -Well, you know how he was on probation, and… -Did he fuck that up too? -Uh…yeah, I guess he messed that up…he sent me a text a little bit ago saying that he was waiting for a van to pick…
“How long ya been down in Middle Earth? -Boss JUST because the hike down was so exhilarating and the terminus so eye-widening, I found myself trekking for a second time from the small town of Mirador down the inside of an extinct volcano to Laguna de Apoya, a 48-square kilometer crater-lake so deep that its…
The last time I traveled extensively abroad, Obama had just been elected to his first term, and people around the world were in love with America. Europeans in particular were enamored, due to part to Obama’s tour of Europe while he was campaigning—I remember one pundit saying that his loop was “the first time an…
Bruja The Witch—pt. 1 Bruja- (Spanish) n.-A Witch ~ My room at the GM was a single. I had always stayed in the dorms at hostels, other than copping a single my first night at Poste Rojo under the misguided assumption that I would get laid during the Anti-Valentine’s Day party. Whenever I think I’m…
Granada is uninhabitably hot during the dry season. The fact that 90,000 people inhabit the city nonetheless is confounding to me. They also do it while wearing shirts—I’ve recently noticed that the only dudes going around bare-chested are cheles. So, in another one of my weak attempts to not appear like a culturally-insensitive tourist,…
Granada’s market is a multihued riot of shrieking-fresh products and booming sales-pitches: capitalism before The Man took over. Crooked wooden stands haphazardly jut in from the boring buildings-proper, barely allowing a river of shoppers, motorbikes, three-wheeled tuk-tuks, and the occasional car, horn wailing, to slowly pass through. In the maze, you can cop gutted fish,…
I met Hassan in Castle Tam, the San Juan, Costa Rica hostel that was called “John’s House of Wayward Misfits,” by a disgruntled former employee that had bailed to other employment. John was the owner; Hassan was a tenet who was trying to find employment there, having partied his way down to his last hundred dollars. Even though…
The Other Hudson Valley 