Nov 26
For those of you who have been following my travels on and off for the past few years, enjoying my writing and photography, sending me flattering comments and emails… Thank you! I am glad to have been able to inspire and entertain many of you.
I have another story for you… and this time I am asking for a favor in return.
Please continue to travel with me by supporting my project. It will be VERY much appreciated.
Even a little bit will help…
CLICK HERE -> OneOldPen.org
As for upcoming travel adventures…a friend and I are seriously considering a month-long rowing journey down the Guadalquivir River in Spain this spring…
Sep 06
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
Buildings spread apart and Im suddenly standing in another square. This one, with a statue at center and people crossing in all directions, is especially vast. Deciding it a good place from which to find my way home, I sit down on a cold, hard cement bench, finish eating my messy falafel wrap and then take to reading again. As pages turn, the skys light grows weaker and shadows on my book made from overhead lamps distract me.
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Sep 05
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
Golden arches appear as I round a corner. Although I dont eat the food at McDonalds, I cant deny there is something warm and comforting about the place. Somehow it reminds of home. There is a comfort in knowing my expectations could be full filled. I realize that at a very young age a piece of me was taken hostage by their marketing, just like it was by Coke and countless others. I ponder my love and my loath for the manipulative power of marketing as I pass a smiling statue of Ronald and enter in search of a toilet.
There is a line and a short woman is taking payment. I wait with my cards, shuffling and spreading them at my waist as we patient men inch our way forward. I place thirty cents into the small plate on her small table and she raises her arm as if welcoming be aboard.
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Sep 04
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
I go back to writing and take a few longer breaks to stretch, sip my water and try to come up with a way to talk to the cute waitress whos been smiling at me. Considering she couldnt understand a lick of what I was saying when I was looking for the bathroom, I leave her to be another pass at fate.
After four or so hours, with the afternoon heat starting to wane; I decide Im ready to do something else. Having not paid for the food I gulped down hours ago, I head for the counter to cash out. My waiters shift has ended, so I tell his replacement what I had. While traveling, there are so many chances to get stuff for free because of systems like this. I imagine I could have saved hundreds of dollars and given it to the poor people in India, sort of like Robin Hood, but as always I pay the full amount and say thank you in the local language. Then pocketing my change, I take out a pen and my little brown notebook. Still standing at the counter, the cashier watching me idly, I jot down the cost of my meal, offer a quick nod with a smile and head on my way.
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Sep 03
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
I move slowly from the train, letting everyone ahead of me. There are plenty of times Im in a hurry and its an unbelievably good feeling to move slowly where everyone else is rushing about. Climbing the stopped escalator, I feel a sharp pain in my knee, which leads me to think about my health. Besides all the walking around, traveling can get to be a pretty lethargic thing. Ive found it difficult to exercise being in a new place every few days. I wonder if the pain is a sign of ageing, picture my bones and ligaments growing frail and shudder at the thought of passing time.
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Sep 02
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
Whenever I got a cold, my parents would make me drink orange juice, so its taken on kind of a holy water status in my subconscious. I have this irrational idea that putting as much Vitamin C into my body as I can might make up for any lack of fruit or vegetable intake, so while waiting for the train I buy an orange juice from the vending machine and notice the weight of the foreign change drops more heavily into the machine than coins do at home. I read my book with my thumb between the pages propping it open, constantly a tad frustrated with how the pages want to close, but not enough to crease the bind. Between paragraphs I pause to watch people.
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Sep 01
A fictional day comprised from parts of many non-fictional days while I was backpacking in Europe
Exiting the hostel, I pull a wrinkled map from my pocket. It is split at the creases since my inability to fold and unfold it has resulted in repeated use of force. I scan for graphics of big buildings or other important looking things and taking a black pen from my bag, I try circling them with the map against my knee. The pen pops through the thin glossy paper and pokes my knee, inking a dot on my jeans. When I look to it I laugh because right next to it is a blue dot from some other time I did the same thing in some other city. I dont know when it was, which means I dont know when I last washed my jeans; maybe never.
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