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Pohnpei, April 2017. A live-tweeted Lovecraftian adventure, one-half of which is completely factual. |
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Beirut, May 2015. Some thoughts on the romance of chaos and conspiracy. |
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The Philippines, October 2013. Regarding the end of an era, and my concern for the next. |
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Myanmar, October 2012. Wherein I lament how much better things have gotten. |
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Djibouti, June 2011. In which I go diving with the Special Forces, and mine salt from the deepest depression in Africa. |
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Iceland, September 2009. Three days driving around volcanoes and (literally) dodging madmen straight out of the local sagas. |
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Colombia, October 2008. I spent six days trekking through the Colombian jungle to explore a city abandoned a thousand years ago. I blame Steven Spielberg. |
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Haiti, March 2007. Some notes from Port-au-Prince, Haiti's sprawling, sweltering, seething capital, the poorest and most violent city in the entire Western Hemisphere. |
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The Trans-Siberian, September 2006. It's when you fight your way through the hordes and out of Moscow's metro and walk into Yaroslavsky Station that the sheer scale of the journey starts to really hit you, when you look at the time-zone markers under the diagram of the rail network, and the way those numbers mount up as the track sweeps eastwards: +6, +7, +8. Eight time zones. A third of the world. |
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South Africa, December 2005. So there1 I stood, clutching my bared Swiss Army knife2 in my trembling fist3, alone4 and otherwise unarmed, surrounded by a thousand5 bloodthirsty6 Zulus7. The witch doctor8 fixed me with a baleful glare9. I knew there was no escape10. |
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Iraq, May 2005. In which our hero travels to a desert war zone and is promptly wounded by marauding shellfish. |
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Peru, May 2004 recounts my expedition along the Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu, and, for added social commentary, my less-than-harrowing descent into coca addiction. |
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Egypt, July 2003 begins with a story of becoming what my sister called "The Anti-Kurtz" that seemed popular. I would like to stress that this tale starts off grossly exaggerated and moves into sheer fiction. I would like to double stress this if your name is David Brown and it is your driver I refer to. And if you are David Brown's driver Achmed, listen, I am so very sorry. |
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Croatia, June 2003 tells of Stalinist hotels in Kosovo and my overambitious expedition to the supremely gorgeous Plitvice Lakes. |
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Papua New Guinea, October 2002 explains how I am, in fact, pretty fly (for a white guy). |
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Australia, October 2002 discusses scuba diving, and warns the world of the immense dangers posed by certain flightless birds. |
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India, November 2000 describes How To Buy A Ticket In India. |
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Feast your eyes on the highlights from years of my (mostly) travel photography. |
