Sitting in a dark corner of a very typical Spanish old man bar, I have the pleasure of observing the ebb and flow of daily life. Seated at the bar, an old lady talks animatedly about politics and playfully gives the barmen hell. In turn, they smirk, looking at her with kindness; I assume she’s a regular. Continue reading “Old man bars and being ‘the other’”
I’ve spent the past 6 days in a small seaside town on Ireland’s west coast. To escape my dear, dirty Dublin, I set out for somewhere remote where I could be alone. This place truly has it all; a beautiful coastline and a mountain a stone’s throw from the hostel. As it turned out, I wasn’t alone though. Continue reading “Like a river flowing”
The following post was composed en route from Madrid to Dublin and was a very cathartic exercise in introspection and understanding.
As I sit here on the plane, leaving Madrid, I’ve spent a good deal of time gazing down at the scene below. Spain glides on beneath me, a patchwork quilt of browns and tans, baking under the summer sun. I’ve had a strange and often tumultuous relationship with this country since the first day I set foot on its rugged ground eight years ago.
I fell off there for a minute after that surge of productivity. I should have known I was going to burn out but still made mention of a next day post about some more Ireland stuff. It has only been a week since my raving Hula infomercial but everyday I’ve had a nagging feeling to get something down, anything. My mind has been elsewhere lately and I need to rein it in for my own sanity. Continue reading “Letters, birthdays, and The Great Fire”
