When you come to a fork in the road….take it.
— Yogi Berra
When it comes to lifestyle, it's not what you choose, but rather how you choose it.
When you come to a fork in the road….take it.
— Yogi Berra
When it comes to lifestyle, it's not what you choose, but rather how you choose it.
Sure, we enjoyed our time in the Galapagos Islands. It’s difficult not to when you are surrounded by blue-footed boobies dancing their way to marriage and penguins torpedoing their way through the water.
But when travelers fly in and out of Ecuador only to see the Galapagos, they are missing out.
How do you get food to look like that? What kind of camera do you use? Do you use any special lenses?
Go to a big food website and the food glistens, the light is perfect and everything is in its place. But let's say you are a traveler carrying a pocket or DSLR camera and you have a fascinating, colorful spread before you that you'd like to share with others or capture for your own memories. Conditions are tricky and time is limited.
What to do?
We eat the mountain…and the mountain eats us.
— David, a mine guide and former miner in Potosi, echoes a decades-old sentiment about the city's lifeblood, its world-famous silver mines.
It was late morning and the sun was bright, the sky crystal at 13,400 feet in Potosi, Bolivia. We were being tended to by a group of schoolgirls dressed as nurses at a hygiene fair; they sought to teach us the methods and benefits of properly washing our hands.
The mood: uplifting and hopeful.
Contrast this with just the day before.
What is worth more? A dollar of stuff or a dollar of experience?
Technically, they are worth the same. But do both really deliver the same satisfaction?
Peruvian cuisine has attained a certain hipness over the last decade. So when we put out a call to our network for Peruvian food suggestions prior to our visit to Lima, we were surprised when the net response amounted to “ceviche and pisco sours.”
For sure those are requisite tastes, but the Peruvian food scene offers so much more.
Have you ever been thankful for an experience that you wouldn't choose to repeat? This was our boat trip experience up the Rio Paraguay in northern Paraguay.
You go somewhere not because it will deliver comfort. You take a trip not because it's going to get you quickly from A to B. You don't do it simply because it's inexpensive. You stand in the face of logic and reason; you deliberately endure an ounce or two of pain.
Your journey's aim: to satisfy your curiosity.
One decade ago — late December 1999. As people counted down and stockpiled their cans of beans in anticipation of a Y2K-related world meltdown, I visited Dan in San Francisco while on extended leave from my Peace Corps assignment in Estonia. The word from Peace Corps management: get out because there are two Soviet-built power plants nearby – one in Russia, the other in Lithuania — that just might blow.
Although there would be other catastrophes — numerous ones in fact — that would visit the world during the ensuing decade, the Y2K bug never really bit.
But for us, the travel bug did.
While the people of Tarija, Bolivia will keep you hanging around, it’s the wine – surprisingly drinkable and made with grapes grown at an elevation of 6,000 feet — that Tarija is best known for.
Oh, Tarija. The women there are beautiful. It’s their smiles. They are the dream of every Bolivian man.
— David, our Bolivian guide for the Salar de Uyuni tour, delivers an animated testimonial for one of Bolivia’s lesser-known cities.
Cafés with outdoor seating line palm tree-dotted squares; cars broadcast opera from open windows as they cruise the plaza; wine lists measure longer than food menus; tablitas (ham, cheese and olive tapas plates) are standard fare; and smiles are in ample supply.
A Mediterranean-style culture smack in the middle of South America? Tarija is not your typical Bolivian town.