Tag Archives: Cemeteries

I will come again, and I will be millions

In accordance with my plan for the year, I’ve parked myself in Buenos Aires for almost the next three months. Because traveling is tiring, and I’ve been at it for a while. The theory is, I’ll have a bit more consistency, can develop some decent habits, catch up on work, and be part of a community. My AirBnb is in San Telmo, which is probably the third most popular district for expats – more of an artsy area than the typical “gringo ghetto” that pops up in these major South American cities. Continue reading I will come again, and I will be millions

Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love

Return trips for me are rare, but Edinburgh is a nice place. Forget all that sunshine, beaches, and warm weather in Spain – not sure how anyone tolerates all that. I’ll take this constant sea of 60 degree mist any day. After arbitrarily choosing a hostel, upon arrival I realized it was the same one I stayed in over three years ago. I get older and the kids in here stay the same age. JK it’s an old person hostel. Continue reading Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love

It makes you wonder. All the brilliant things we might have done with our lives if only we suspected we knew how

We flew straight from Galapagos to Lima to jump over the not so noteworthy expanse that is northern Peru. We spent the first few days in Miraflores (the Gringo area), which is what you’d expect for a more affluent section of a large city. Walkable, neat outdoor mall on the coast that afforded a nice sunset or two, and a reasonable selection of coffee shops and vegetarian places in the main area. Continue reading It makes you wonder. All the brilliant things we might have done with our lives if only we suspected we knew how

I’m tired. I thought I just needed a night’s sleep but it’s more than that.

The three hour shuttle from Antigua to San Pedro La Laguna wasn’t exactly a fun one, but we got there. Up and down a volcano. Around a lot of windy roads. I sat next to a Montanan (?) and chatted with her the whole time, one of those free-spirit types that was going to San Marcos, the next town over, for a yoga training and retreat. Continue reading I’m tired. I thought I just needed a night’s sleep but it’s more than that.

Good morning America, how are you?

I didn’t feel like working today so I took a streetcar down to the famous Garden District. Sandra Bullock has a house there, so I figured maybe I’d run into her and we’d really hit it off. But then I’d probably resent her success and feel awkward when she took me to nice restaurants and bought me presents – favors I couldn’t return. Plus, she’s like 50, which kind of poses a long-term problem. So ultimately I decided just to leisurely stroll through the upper-class neighborhood of charming architecture. Also, I don’t really like Sandra Bullock. Continue reading Good morning America, how are you?

Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

As much as I wanted to do Ring of Kerry and Dingle, I decided to skip them and just move on.  So I rose bright and early in Killarney and got on a bus towards Cahir.

After a couple hours on the bus, I arrived at Cahir Castle.  It was, of course, raining.  The guy at the desk let me stow my bag so at least I didn’t have to carry that around, and then I walked around the castle. Continue reading Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.

Sadly, it was time to finally leave Galway this morning.  I relaxed a bit in the morning and took the 9:00 express bus to Limerick, then transferred to the bus that took me to Killarney.

It’s kind of a cool little town.  Lots of shops.  Lots of restaurants. Lots of pubs.  All more or less copies of each other, expanding out down a few different streets.  I circled through everything this evening but just decided to go to Tesco and buy some things to make for dinner. Continue reading For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.