Category: Wandering

I don’t expect the last stop on my travels to be Newark, New Jersey.  I have basically anticipated spending zero hours of my life in Newark, New Jersey; outside of Newark International (somehow EWR in airport code, which both makes onomatopoeic sense and not really any sense).  Camden is several feet away from Philadelphia, and … Continue reading Part XIV: Newark

When I get back to Lisbon, I head for the best restaurant I know.  It is called, “That restaurant on I think the one street but it could be the other street; fuck, I should’ve taken a note.”  I found it the day before, when I was recovering from a mountainous hangover.  My guts rotted … Continue reading Part XIII: From Lisbon, with Major Love

I try, while being a tourist, to avoid tourist things.  It’s a natural corollary to that search for Authentic Experiences; the search that gets me on ferries to nowhere.  I’m of course not alone in trying to avoid tourist things.  “It’s not tourist-y” is a common recommendation for the American with a suitcase.  And there … Continue reading Part XII: Castles

I do not usually approach women in public, for the same reason I don’t touch hot pans.  There are circumstances, however, under which I will waive these rules: No one I know is in the area. I refuse to bomb in front of an audience that travels with me after the show. The girl is … Continue reading Part XI: The First Act of Two Different Romantic Comedies

It’s dark when the ferry makes landfall.  I walk inland and stop in the first open restaurant I see.  There is only one other customer present; an older man with a silver beard.  He wears a blazer and a turtleneck.  He is specifically himself. I order a fish which is overcooked, and jot notes and … Continue reading Part X: Authentic, Tooth-Based Racism

I see a family led by a guide.  The dad is white, and dressed very poorly – he’s at least British, but probably American.  (Some of the sharpest dressers on earth are American; but like most things in the U.S., style is not very evenly distributed.)  He wears cargo shorts, just as a sort of … Continue reading Part IX: Authentic, Hand-Crafted, Artisanal Cultural Experience

I’m fascinated by economists.  I’ve been ever since I roomed with my friend Malbec, who is an economist, when we were grad students. I’m not fascinated by economics, per se: it’s a bizarre discipline that requires a lot of math but is not in fact a science, and is most useful when it is telling … Continue reading Part VIII: Maximum Utility = Super Bock + Primeira Liga

Americans of my class (i.e., the one where an undergraduate degree was expected and partially funded) and age (we’re nostalgic for things we don’t remember, like the release of Return of the Jedi) spend their days going online to explain to slightly older Americans that the older Americans just don’t really understand what it’s like … Continue reading Part VII: All This Useless Beauty

Andrew, fueled primarily by the sun, is powered up by the time I wake.  “WE ARE GOING TO THECOLI-SEE UMM!”  he tells me and anyone within a few miles.  Rob Roy, very eager to pass on his love of antiquity, does not help the situation: “Where are we going, Andrew?” he asks, and Andrew says … Continue reading Part VI: Tiny People in Large Buildings

I’m not just excited to see Rome.  I’m also very excited to see Andrew William (A-Dub to peers and trusted associates).  Andrew is the coolest person I know.  He lives in Edinburgh, travels Europe widely, and speaks snatches of French and Italian – he’s not great, but he’s got enough charm that the locals dig … Continue reading Part V: Rome, Together