That drink with each new place to level me & put me in touch with a new spot on the map
The only real joy to be found in an overly popular tourist attraction lies in squeezing something unexpected from the experience. I’d been several times to Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point in continental Europe, in Portugal, with visiting friends Read More …
When I ordered the London Pride, I wasn’t trying to be anything. I just wanted a new beer in the midst of London on a cold afternoon, where the sun set too fast for my 40-degree-latitude self, and it was Read More …
If you count by semesters, I graduated from college early. If you count by the calendar date, I was five months late. In terms of craft beer in Boulder, Colorado, however, I graduated right on time. I ordered a pony Read More …
The Spanish can be intense. You know it when you walk into a restaurant in Spain: If the noise level isn’t over 90 decibels, look at your watch. It’s not 10 pm yet. In the south, in Andalucia, they’ve built Read More …
Lisbon’s both a reminder to me of so many cities in Europe, but also like no other place I’ve known. It’s the first Paris of my memories, the Budapest of my dreams. Some liken it to Rome, for its supposed Read More …
When I picked an identifying image for Beer For Strange Climates 60 posts ago, I recalled the mysterious yet everyman’s beer I had to wash down a memorable meal in Beijing several years back. That meal? Beijing Duck–the most famous Read More …
An amusement park feels somewhat beside the point after you’ve driven through a single rush hour in Jakarta. I stayed for a week during a rainy November several years past, working with a core team of aviation educators and the Read More …
We attack shopping at El Corte Inglês like it’s a major international expedition, which it is: We’re strangers in a strange land. It’s going into foreign territory to leave our quiet town and subject ourselves to the Mall. It takes Read More …
Nothing prepares you for the scale of the Açores islands. A short, two-hour flight from Lisbon (or twice that from Boston), and you’re there—this impossibly green flotilla of masted ships clinging loosely to each other in the midst of the Read More …
We drove past a handful of tavernas, looking for something a bit more than what we called the “one-bulb bar,” dimly lit by a single florescent light hanging on a twisty wire, with a grim trio of customers inevitably looking Read More …