Category: Travel
-
To Peel an Egg
“If you don’t stop eating those, you’ll get diarrhea!” my mother used to warn. One of my brothers would accompany her dire prophecy with the appropriate sound effect, at which point we’d all collapse into giggles. And we always ignored the warning. How could we not?
-
Albergue de Ada
As I walked into the town of Reliegos on the Camino de Santiago, I was looking for an albergue called Albergue de Prada. I didn’t see any signs for that one immediately, but I did see indications for Albergue de Ada, which hadn’t show up on my comprehensive albergue list. Thinking that perhaps the…
-
The Old Man and the Applesauce
“My wife died five years ago from cancer. We were married for 46 years. I know it sounds stupid, but I haven’t seen any beauty in the world since then.” ~Knut, Danish pilgrim, 73 I met him in the sunlit atrium of the parochial pilgrim hostel in Hospital de Orbigo along the Camino de Santiago.
-
Alabanza
I spent several days as a guest of the family that rescued me from perishing by dehydration on the Camino, one hot day in September. Their granddaughter found me resting in the shade of a castle ruin above the village of Montpeyroux on the Chemin d’Arles. It was National Patrimony Day and all the closed…
-
Jimmy Stewart Goes To Spain
There’s this part of me that loves the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” because, in sad and lost moments, I wonder how much my own life actually matters. I imagine that if I were to disappear, it would be like pulling a fist from a pail of water. I need a reminder, from time to…
-
Love at the World’s End
I have just finished walking nearly three months across France and Spain on the medieval pilgrimage trail of the Way of St James, or the Camino de Santiago and have arrived at Finisterra – what was thought to be the most western edge of the world in the Middle Ages. Turns out it’s actually Cabo da…
-
On Turning 38
One week before my 38th birthday, I came home from my 38th international trip. I wanted it to mean something important. Two days before, I’d been sitting after a breakfast of mie goreng – Balinese fried rice, watching fitful, dirty morning waves on the Indian Ocean under a thick and heavy sky, annoyed that my…
-
Love in the Time of Ceramics
Najib was our waiter at the dingy, ill-lit shawarma place right inside the New Gate of Old City Jerusalem. He arrived at our table with twinkly light brown eyes, curly hair pulled into a pony tail at the nape of his neck and a tattoo peeking out from under his short-sleeve shirt. When we asked…
Behind the Blue Door 