Travel Companion Journals

Freshly Cut

brian — Sat, 19 May 2012 11:33:01 +0000

The bounty of a spring stroll.

Nooks, Crannies and Secluded Sanctuaries

brian — Fri, 18 May 2012 12:10:08 +0000

There’s something obnoxious about teenagers when they gather into groups. It seems to be a universal truth crossing all cultures and geographies. When the late morning field trips begin to arrive in Machu Picchu, it’s best to just stay clear. Those wise enough to arrive the day before and spend the night in Aguas Calientes will have hours of unpolluted ruins to explore. The site can be reached as early as five in the morning when the sun begins to brighten the deep navy-blue skies and the air is brisk and laden heavy with the morning moisture of the spongy cloud forest. So it’s understandable to feel a bit defeated when the silence is broken by the sounds of puffing adolescents more concerned with their current social status than their heritage.

But not to worry! Machu Picchu has countless surprises. It’s a place that almost seems tailored to the individual, allowing everyone to make what they want of their experience. The many boulders and walls provide great perches for soaking up particular views. Conversely, there are also lush grassy plazas where many choose to stretch-out and relax as though they were here to decompress and even nap – and napping wasn’t an uncommon sight.

Those wishing to establish a more spiritual connection to the site will still find success only a few steps off the well worn tourist trails. Their sanctuary may require a quick vault over a low wall or may be at the bottom of a staircase a little to dangerous for the casual visitor. It might be found in the maze of the east urban sector homes, occupied only by the wild chinchillas, or it may mean descending to a lower agricultural sector as these young ladies have done.

Everyone’s perfect place can be realized with a little adventure and creativity.

Sun Sets on Doc’s

brian — Thu, 10 May 2012 20:12:05 +0000

Sunrise? Sunset? I’ve always wondered if it’s possible to differentiate the two in a still photo from an unidentifiable location. My novice on the subject leaves me to believe there would be no difference – at least to someone like me. However, I’m sure there is some natural science expert who can make the distinction in the atmospheric differences in subtle hues, cloud density and environmental clues within the mise-en-scène. The atmosphere would be much cooler on sunrise than on sunset possibly contributing to such subtleties. Though as the recent “super moon” teaches us the naked eye truly can’t tell a significant difference in a 15% larger moon. Only when the moon is at the horizon can measurable size be determined. But that’s for another day. I can unequivocally assure that this is a sunset over the Gulf of Mexico.

The Edison and Ford Winter Estate

brian — Mon, 07 May 2012 18:40:47 +0000

When Thomas Edison first visited Fort Myers Florida it must have looked vastly different than today. No nondescript urban sprawl, no budget motels and no 2 for 1 T-shirt shops. In fact little existed in the area aside from the abandoned fort of the city’s namesake. So it’s pretty remarkable that someone of Mr. Edison and Mr. Ford’s celebrity decided to develop their winter estate there and lovingly groom and maintain it for more than half a century. By the time Mina Edison deeded the property to the city in 1947 there’s little doubt that the landscape had independently evolved outside the estate.

All of this is, of course, fortunate for us as there’s now a definitive “there’s nothing like this” space in an otherwise unremarkable city that’s squeezed between Gulf, river and swamp. Not only is the estate a perfect slice of solitude for an afternoon stroll it is more importantly a historical time-capsule. Historians and environmentalists will revel in the ability to view the natural landscape along the banks of the Caloosahatchee River manicured as it was more than a century ago and science and technology buffs will geek-out on seeing the museum quality preservation of one of the world’s greatest scientists and inventors’ workshops and personal living space.

Mobile Munchies

brian — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 18:26:37 +0000

Big fat corn, the biggest kernels I’ve ever seen, roast on open-air grills and are more fun to munch on than movie popcorn; Servings of chicharron or what we would call fried pork rinds are distributed from narrow shops, often only the width of a doorway; Adobo, a marinated chicken dish, makes messy on-the-go grub – and beef and cumin stuffed empanadas, often with egg, are available on just about every street corner just as they are all over Latin America. Even wheel barrows of fresh produce like pineapples are sliced and served, sometimes in the middle of the street. The wheelbarrow makes a mobile stand able to serve just about anyone and anywhere, even from moving vehicles.

Fatal Ascent

brian — Mon, 23 Apr 2012 17:16:18 +0000

“…to honor the Maya ball game gods of the underworld, those to be sacrificed were often bound into symbolic ball shape and tumbled down stairs. Undoubtedly this practice wasn’t lost on Maya priests as they recognized this most magnificent method of spattering blood. So stairs were built on great scale, attached to grand limestone pyramids that reached the sky, increasingly higher and steeper – too steep to ascend and even more treacherous on the way down. The spectacle was perfected after centuries by any number of gruesome additions. Pumping hearts were ripped from chests, heads were indiscriminately lopped and all was hurled from atop one and two hundred-foot platforms in a flailing mass of awfulness.”

Summer Streets of New York

brian — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 17:55:37 +0000

“Summer Streets” in New York offers an accommodating and friendly atmosphere for exercise and recreation. It also gives New Yorkers another venue upon which to knee-cap slower moving pedestrians, practice profanities and further employ an already perfected general anti-social persuasion. For me, I get the opportunity to go all those places along Park Avenue between Central Park and the Brooklyn Bridge that would leave me bedridden and breathing through a tube on any normal Manhattan day. Of course there’s still plenty of speeding objects to dodge, albeit much less lethal. The curved tunnel through Grand Central Terminal is just one of those unique environments that is almost never appreciated on foot.

Behind Closed Doors

brian — Sat, 07 Apr 2012 18:39:57 +0000

“…confirming hotel Casa Mexilio’s authenticity and regional importance, their web site states that Serapio Baqueiro Preve died here and President Lázaro Cárdenas used the residence to negotiate business. Hosting a President is a legitimate honor worthy of posting on any web site, however, having someone keel-over in one of your rooms is quite an odd claim-to-fame for a hotel – or any property for that matter. It always seems to work like this though, no matter who the deceased was. Even a local individual of marginal celebrity becomes immortalized when dying in a location even the slightest bit more interesting than a hospital room or at home. So, did Mr. Preve do some of the great things he’s so well known for on the property or did he simply come here to die? Since it’s not specified on the web, the latter is assumed. Could Mexilio be a former hospital? Possibly my room was once the great Serapio’s. That would be most impressive indeed.”

Table for One

brian — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 12:45:00 +0000

When I wondered into the abandoned Rathskeller in the bowels of Louisville’s Seelbach Hotel I never truly knew what was in my presence. The only light came from the few Gothic wall sconces positioned about and wasn’t significant enough to make out more than vague shapes in the dark hall. Patiently waiting in the solitary space my surroundings were only revealed to me on the LCD of my camera one long 30 second exposure at a time. I was intrigued to discover this lone table and chair waiting in vain for the diner who would not come.

Pool Bar

brian — Mon, 02 Apr 2012 15:03:29 +0000

The early morning calm before the storm of activity to arise by daybreak. The pool bar aboard the Navigator of the Seas, somewhere off the north coast of Cuba.