Mexico City. Go there. Eat everything.
Love,
D&H
The Photos
Sunday, May 28, 2017
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Cuba: Para mi es magnífico
Cuba.
I never thought it would happen. When we flew to Dublin for my thirtieth birthday, the woman at TSA asked, "Is it a dream?!" Don't get me wrong--that was a great trip. But I think this is what she meant. A lot of things I assumed I would do in my life have disappeared from my route. But basically as long as I have had ideas about jazz, Spanish, American cars, or revolución, Cuba has been floating on the horizon like some kind of myth.
It doesn't seem well advised to try to make proclamations about Cuba at this point. Apart from my general geopolitical illiteracy, trying to describe "Cuba" after three days in Havana seems like blinking your eyes open in an exhibit and, on that basis, deciding to talk about the artist's life, vision, and technique. That said, we do have a quite limited supply of Havana Club, and I would be happy to talk about the island with anyone over mojitos, on a first-come-first-served basis.
It was delicious, sweaty, noisy, rhythmic, sad, and inspiring. I will never really be able to explain to you just how or why. So I suggest you find out for yourselves.
As our driver, Maykel, put it when offered chewing gum: "Para mi, es magnífico."
Love,
H (&D)
See the album here. (Tip: If you click the little "i" icon at top right, you'll be able to read captions. If you are interested in original resolution copies of anything or have questions, please let us know.)
I never thought it would happen. When we flew to Dublin for my thirtieth birthday, the woman at TSA asked, "Is it a dream?!" Don't get me wrong--that was a great trip. But I think this is what she meant. A lot of things I assumed I would do in my life have disappeared from my route. But basically as long as I have had ideas about jazz, Spanish, American cars, or revolución, Cuba has been floating on the horizon like some kind of myth.
It doesn't seem well advised to try to make proclamations about Cuba at this point. Apart from my general geopolitical illiteracy, trying to describe "Cuba" after three days in Havana seems like blinking your eyes open in an exhibit and, on that basis, deciding to talk about the artist's life, vision, and technique. That said, we do have a quite limited supply of Havana Club, and I would be happy to talk about the island with anyone over mojitos, on a first-come-first-served basis.
It was delicious, sweaty, noisy, rhythmic, sad, and inspiring. I will never really be able to explain to you just how or why. So I suggest you find out for yourselves.
As our driver, Maykel, put it when offered chewing gum: "Para mi, es magnífico."
Love,
H (&D)
See the album here. (Tip: If you click the little "i" icon at top right, you'll be able to read captions. If you are interested in original resolution copies of anything or have questions, please let us know.)
Saturday, May 9, 2015
The Road of Scones
Too long in the States. Fortunately, after an important birthday, we got to run around Ireland and Scotland for a whole week. We worked up quite a thirst. As usual, we'll let the pictures do the talking. See our route and all the snaps on this not particularly interactive map: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=z2JLFq9FyZNk.kkoOEKm-QS0E
Or look at the photo albums individually here: Days 1, 2, Days 3, 4, Days 5, 6 Days 7, 8
We wish you had been there. And happy travels.
Love,
D&H
Sidenote: If you haven't watched The Long Way Round, the title of this post won't make much sense. Also, what's the matter with you? Watch it. Now!
Or look at the photo albums individually here: Days 1, 2, Days 3, 4, Days 5, 6 Days 7, 8
We wish you had been there. And happy travels.
Love,
D&H
Sidenote: If you haven't watched The Long Way Round, the title of this post won't make much sense. Also, what's the matter with you? Watch it. Now!
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
"I Will Live on Islands"
In the 1986 film Down By Law by Jim Jarmusch, Roberto Benigni's first line is the proclamation, "It's a sad and beautiful world." Our experience in the Dominican Republic vindicates the statement as well as anywhere we've been.
Equipped with laughable Spanish, some chewing gum, and a rental Kia Picanto (a wretched, little car, which I recommend to no one), we banged around up and down the island, from Santo Domingo to la peninsula Samaná and back. The food was outstanding, the Dominicans beguiling, the roads scary, the Americans horrid, and the merengue loud.
Christmas trotting around the DR marked a significant birthday, membership in the Virginia bar, and a completed promise to ourselves not to let 2013 pass without leaving the States. Can we go back there now?
Prospero año nuevo a todos y todas!
Love,
HD
Posdata: There was a lot that my iPhone didn't capture on this trip. This guy's film resembles many of our experiences. http://vimeo.com/30351404
Equipped with laughable Spanish, some chewing gum, and a rental Kia Picanto (a wretched, little car, which I recommend to no one), we banged around up and down the island, from Santo Domingo to la peninsula Samaná and back. The food was outstanding, the Dominicans beguiling, the roads scary, the Americans horrid, and the merengue loud.
Christmas trotting around the DR marked a significant birthday, membership in the Virginia bar, and a completed promise to ourselves not to let 2013 pass without leaving the States. Can we go back there now?
Prospero año nuevo a todos y todas!
Love,
HD
Posdata: There was a lot that my iPhone didn't capture on this trip. This guy's film resembles many of our experiences. http://vimeo.com/30351404
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| This Presidente's for You: Navidad Dominicana 2013 |
Saturday, April 21, 2012
How Far We've Come
Well, here's what I have to show for it. This probably isn't every route I ran in Paris, but it's pretty close.
See it larger by clicking the image or by clicking here.
Please note: This is not a show of any athletic prowess. Believe me--it's not. But as evidence of my exposure to the place, it feels like a pretty cool cultural document. If you have Google Earth and want to look around the map of my year any more, you can get the file here.
See y'all soon!
Love,
HD
See it larger by clicking the image or by clicking here.
Please note: This is not a show of any athletic prowess. Believe me--it's not. But as evidence of my exposure to the place, it feels like a pretty cool cultural document. If you have Google Earth and want to look around the map of my year any more, you can get the file here.
See y'all soon!
Love,
HD
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Arroyo con Polo, or In Spain in the Membrane
Barcelona was delicious. Sorry there are so many photos--we don't usually stay three nights anywhere.
Actually, one of the most memorable episodes was completely unphotographed: When Drue awoke with a possible migraine around 4:15 on the last morning of our visit, I (who speaks no Spanish nor Catalan) was eventually dispatched to walk through el Raval, the largely immigrant and once-red-light neighborhood of inner Barcelona, filled with bodegas and hostels. In the nearly deserted, predawn alleys, I met hushed greetings of "¿Quieres cervesa, amigo? ¿Hashish?" saw nine women waiting for a bus in the dark, and watched men with cans of beer resting on overturned bistro tables shouting jokes and catcalls to the staff of the Brazilian chain bakery that was open early. The pharmacist at the all night farmàcia 1.5 km from our place in the Universitat neighborhood spoke no English but got me fixed up with algo para dolor de cabeza y náuseas for a fraction of what the same medicine would have cost in Paris.
Now I'm racking my brain to figure out how to get back to Spain.
Meanwhile, three days left in Paris. A week from tonight, we'll be back in the land of the free. Can't wait to see you all and hear about your adventures from these past eight months.
Actually, one of the most memorable episodes was completely unphotographed: When Drue awoke with a possible migraine around 4:15 on the last morning of our visit, I (who speaks no Spanish nor Catalan) was eventually dispatched to walk through el Raval, the largely immigrant and once-red-light neighborhood of inner Barcelona, filled with bodegas and hostels. In the nearly deserted, predawn alleys, I met hushed greetings of "¿Quieres cervesa, amigo? ¿Hashish?" saw nine women waiting for a bus in the dark, and watched men with cans of beer resting on overturned bistro tables shouting jokes and catcalls to the staff of the Brazilian chain bakery that was open early. The pharmacist at the all night farmàcia 1.5 km from our place in the Universitat neighborhood spoke no English but got me fixed up with algo para dolor de cabeza y náuseas for a fraction of what the same medicine would have cost in Paris.
Now I'm racking my brain to figure out how to get back to Spain.
Meanwhile, three days left in Paris. A week from tonight, we'll be back in the land of the free. Can't wait to see you all and hear about your adventures from these past eight months.
 |
| Spainful Memories |
Love,
HD
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Places Held
We're in the middle of wild times. I just finished work on my first law degree; I'm writing from the second of six countries (including our layovers on the way back to D.C.) we will enter in these two weeks; we're out of euros, exhausted, and preparing for reverse culture shock. Life is good.
Anyway, we will update soon. If you want a soundtrack for these two weeks, this is pretty much it: http://grooveshark.com/album/Clandestino/121297
We hope your tax filings went smoothly.
Love,
HD
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Les Bulles d'Epernay, or the Train to Champagne Splays Blainly on the Fssst...
My good fortune is overwhelming and embarrassing.
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| Les Bulles d'Epernay |
Sunday, April 1, 2012
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