Tag Archives: backpacking

the cup is half empty…

I have two days of my trip to go. I’m finally in my last stop – Buenos Aires, a city steeped in legends. You might imagine that I have been tangoing the nights away, recovering languidly in the dim-lit cafes … Continue reading

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the compass spin…

I checked my compass and found it addled, my east gone west. I wondered when it happened, wonder when it no longer mattered. There had become here, there was no where else to be found, and inside I always knew … Continue reading

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a diagnostic guinea pig…

High up in the Altiplano Lake Titicaca seems a little lost, an impossible Aegean blue blown long and wide by stream of the chill winds. The Inca believed that life sprung forth first from an island on this lake and … Continue reading

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snap shots…

I sat enjoying the sunshine in the Plaza de Armas of Sucre, Bolivia. An elderly man joined me on my bench and offered me a bite of his ice cream. I declined with a smile, he offered again and again, … Continue reading

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a long day…

There are days when it all works and days when it doesn’t, and sometimes the days when it doesn’t work are sufficiently funny that I can forgive them for failing to co-operating. I went to Argentina on the spur of … Continue reading

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ice blooms…

By 7pm I´d carted my big rucksack up the steep hill to the bus terminal in La Paz, making periodic stops to gasp and ask for directions since I never seem to be able to follow more than the first … Continue reading

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goodbye central America…

I left less than a week ago, but here, high up in the icy highlands of Peru, Central America quite literally feels a world away, a day dream of warmth and sand to squeeze between my toes.

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my half banana…

In our lives we talk a lot about big loves, grand narratives and sweeping romances. The search focuses on what is called in Spanish our ‘media naranja‘ or half-orange, the perfect other half that fits us vein for vein and … Continue reading

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this moment…

I’m a sitting on a bus between a place my guidebook describes as ‘prickling with menace’ and another it calls ‘industrial, poor, dangerous and not recommended for visitors’. The words alone have me feeling a little on edge and uneasy. … Continue reading

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