Travel

The Way Rome Intended…

EVERYTHING… IMPECCABLY CRAFTED.  NOTHING REFINED.

I opened my eyes and stared into a rustic, antique wooden-ceiling.  It’s an unusually early hour for me to wake up to but both the street-washing vehicle just outside the window and my jetlag demanded it.  This was a morning as routine as any.  We woke up, cleaned ourselves and got dressed.  But instead of a solitary morning of me courting my coffee machine, we walked down one flight of antique stone-steps into another world and strolled to the piazza-next-door for a cup of cappuccino with anticipations of company.  People were there as promised, gathering in front of the cafe bar chatting.  We funneled through the cappuccino crowd as you would in a big family getting through the morning in an orderly chaos.  Two cappuccinos, one cornetto.  As usual.

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Malaysia Feeding Frenzy

Malaysia featured header

I’m not gonna bullshit.

This ISN’T about the beaches.  This ISN’T about the rain forests or the baby orangutans they wouldn’t let me hold.  This ISN’T about those corn-looking twin towers either, or getting up from the bottom and looking down from the top – big whoops.  Let’s also spare the traveler’s enlightenment crap cuz there ain’t any, and cut straight to the point.  We came here to land our asses from one plastic chair to another and feed ourselves to a mindless pulp.  We came here to experience binge-fatigue and then push through it.  We came here to stuff these mortal human-casings of ours to maximum capacity until we were absolutely sure that they were going to burst and THEN SOME.  This is a senseless, stone-cold-killer guide to how to heartburn through KL and Penang without shame or remorse in super hawker style.  Here ain’t about looking-good’n-feeling-chic.  Just strap on that bottle of pepto and put on that stretchy pants.  Now please follow our trail of gluttony.  Let’s divide.  And conquer.

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Paris, Where Have You Been All My Life?

Just the fact that they didn’t compromise the integrity of the city for real estate, makes me kind of believe in (sorry…) socialism.  Apparently all buildings except for one (ewww… Trump, is that you?) in central Paris cannot exceed 6 stories tall.  So what?  It unveils the vastest, most beautiful sky I have ever seen in an urban setting.  New York, I love you, but you ain’t got a ceiling this nice.  My pitiful collection of vocabularies fails miserably.  Just look at it!  Carefree clouds floating in a mesmerizing, SOUL-SUCKING blue.  Tell me that doesn’t look like a Pixar’s movie!, in which I’d be the ghost of an old lady happily traveling in a balloon-lifted house…

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