Reprinted from 24-8-11 and my first blog. Coming into Russia, one feels the overwhelming smell of pickled fish, cigarettes, and sweat. The passport control officer sizes you down without as much as a “Have a nice day! (insert smile here)”…
Joy de Vivre and the French Quarter
There’s something wonderful about the South. The people are much friendlier than New Englanders. They are also much more intoxicated (which, now that I think about it, may explain the friendliness). It’s taken me the first three days to stop gaping open-mouthed at…
Trains, planes, and the M60
Things I learn at 3:30am: I am not invincible. Biking to the train station with my carry on is, as predicted, an insurmountable task. I call a taxi to my apartment. The operator tells me one will arrive momentarily. Ten…
Bad Omens
I think I’m slowly (and painfully) coming to terms with the finality of China. In some ways, I’ve known that China was the next logical step for a while. But it was one of those things like ‘oh, I should…
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