Tag Archives: airplane


~ 0 ~
SFO in the early morning
triple couple brunch date
SFO in the afternoon
yellow fever film
SFO late at night
Japanese, Mexican, American, or Chinese?

~ 1 ~
Hank Williams on the
turbulent red-eye
flashlights in the early morning
United Club at IAD
hella babies on the
flight to Jamaica
the first Jamaican woman to speak to/about me:
“it’s not fair. he’s not even using it,”
referencing my hair
all customs agents are the same stern
accosted by taxi drivers
one is hella chill so we go w him ($15)
he walks slow as hell
“we grow up w weed”
tried to sell me some but his guy is out
Caribic House
gentleman clerk
third floor balcony view of the sea
buy weed from souvenir shop ($20 for crap)
Pork Pit
buy weed from random vagrant (J$200 for crap)

~ 2 ~
breakfast at the Mocha Cafe
Knutsford Express to Negril
buy Blue Cheese from taxi driver ($5 for quality)
Yoga Centre
stroll and smoke along the beach
the German dude
yoga in the evening
shower and drinks
Alfred’s Ocean Palace
couple drinks and cricket at the Sunrise

~ 3 ~
smoothies and breakfast at the YC
chillin on the beach
spring rolls and papaya salad
Natalie naps / Americanah
drinks at One Love bar
curried conch w rice & peas at sweet spot

~ 4 ~
goodbye YC & Negril
KE to Kingston
wild winding ride east
the big city
the Spanish Court,
free rum punch on arrival
walking in the rain to
Devon House
coffee for her, coffee i-scream for me
walking in the lightening rain
Natalie goes chic in the city
divine Indian at Nirvanna

~ 5 ~
free breakfast: eggs, platanos, festival, bacon, fruit, coffee, water
taxi drive with a former yam farmer to
the National Gallery of Jamaica
walk through saturday downtown market
taxi to the grocery
Tashanna the angel
Natalie runs on the treadmill, i walk to KE
sunset swimming in the freezing infinity pool
hot bath w love
shower the hair
dress and small dinner
last home drink
up up up the hill to
dub club
smoky dub music in the clouds
saw fireworks
and popcorn
and dancing
circles, circling back to a
champagne glass next to the drivers seat
flask of herb wine next to mine
slowly, slithering back to New Kingston
in the nighttime of a new day

~ 6 ~
free breakfast: kitchen sink omelet, fruit, coffee, water, festival, platanos, and a complimentary mimosa
walking to the banks, several failed withdrawals
packing up
waiting for Robert
red shirt, tan truck, big smile
cash out
ride up
the treehouse
the tour
the pool and trail
dinner at 6?
acki and shellfish, peas and rice, greens not calaloo
reading and drinking
scrabble in bed under the net
never ending music for a wake, then an end

~ 7 ~
wake up puffy eyed a little before 9
shirtless on the balcony
big rainbow across the sky
Chef says breakfast is on the way
coffee, scrambled eggs w veggies, fried plantains, breadfruit (looked like dry pineapple slices), slices of mango, a peeled orange, everything fresh, juicy, lovely
more coffee, Bobby and Chef smoking
driving to Holywell
the waterfall hike
smoke at the falls
kiss on the hills
walk to David’s coffee plantation
the Chinese crew, little kids giggling and playing games, the two big dogs loafing and eyeing everyone, the coffee man deeply darkened by the sun yet profoundly lightened by endless cups of coffee
walking back home
Natalie’s forgotten R1: the run
gap cafe too fancy
walk thru the military yard
flask of clear rum, water, cheese puffs, and chocolates at the bubbles stop
walk home
cold shower (Ginger on drums)
wifi, soup, and dinner (more Fela)
seafish, fried carrots and greens, potato, yams, plantains
greasy spliff
drinks and reading

~ 8 ~
up a little earlier, round 830
coffee and breakfast on the taller balcony
acki and fish, breadfruit, fried plantains, papaya, orange
reading reading reading
the ride to Craighton
the $25 tour w Jerome
280,000 coffee plants—arabica not robusta—the latter 52% of the world coffee, the former 48%—though like the #1 most traded good (oil), the #2 (coffee) is often adulterated as there’s no standard nor authority—and Blue Mountain arabica is something special, with 70% of its sales going to wealthy Japanese—Jamaicans themselves drink instant coffee—unless they’re like Robert—usually Arabica ripens in 5-7 months, in Blue Mountains it takes 9-11—juicier, sweeter—Twyman and other north side farmers get less sun so their harvest is shorter
three cups of coffee after the lesson
walk to red light
bananas and coconut snack from the roadside rasta
walk from red light
Natalie loses her shades
hitching a ride w the 33 year old who spent 20 years living in Kingston before moving to London, comes back to visit family every xmas, warned us of the dangers of hitch hiking
eits cafe
walking up and a ride w David, bobby’s coz
walking to prince valley
glasses for a drink and phone
meeting, laughing, smoking w omero from Oakland and Tazia from near Kingston
drinks and dinner: beans, greens, and pumpkin rice, perfection
beer and adieu
reading, reading, hearts, reading

~ 9 ~
up a little earlier, around 815
Ovid on the balcony
coffee and breakfast in the usual spot
acki and fish, plantains, coco bread
packing up and paying
dj dale down the mountain
bob Marley museum
best dinner (fried chicken, beef stew, pork stew, or curried goat?) plus rum
two wedding episodes of friends

~ 10 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
Mahogany Beach
food and drink on James (same menu)
crazy dance boat party TV
Turtle Beach
souvenir shopping i
drinks on James
moms restaurant (fish stew)

~ 11 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
souvenir shopping ii
passage to passage to India (naan, South Indian chicken, chicken tikka masala)
chilling at KE
KE to Mo Bay
El Greco, cocktail on arrival
cocktails and joint on the balcony (Half Pint)
bellboy escort to room, J$400
atm, the old walk
1/2 lb ribs at pork pit
the walk back
another round

~ 12 ~
up around 8
finished Herzog
breakfast: one American, one Jamaican (mine is fried fish, greens, small banana, yucca, dumpling, and Nat’s French toast)
old white retired everywhere
blacks go J, whites go A
down to the street, rum up
packing, Brilliant Corners, checking out
smoke on the cliff side
delayed flight
walk down to the park shade
bk fries
taxi to airport
lines, lines, food court, hearts
exit row flight
chaos at CLT Continue reading

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thalassa [archive]

i have tripped so hard in march.

out the door down the down down the spiraling marble stairs stopped for a flash at the flush glass door over the dog down the steps around the bush run run run down the everyday street with no name left and in up the steps up the up tripped and painless up up up the square spiral steps keys and everything and money and nothing else and back down again out the building across the street at the stop on the bus waiting waiting waiting in the bus off the bus scamper through crowds so huge across the street round the corner at the stop at the stop at the stop hands sweaty at the steps heart thumping at the stop eyes watching for the stop feet pacing on the stop mouth smoking at the stop body moving squirming grooving growing cooing falling heaving moaning sighing seeing stooping setting sun swirling at the

girl, explosion.

she hatched from an egg and her name means the sea, she chases pigeons for fun and eats chickens to stay alive, she stares at things, saying wow, and then thinks while biting the inside of her invisibly and horribly scarred cheeks, her hair used to be short but it’s getting long and she sounds like a professor because she’s never been wrong, she’s sailed, she’s flown, she’s ridden on trains, she collects rocks and glitter and other sparkly things, but none of that matters except that she hatched from an egg and her name means the sea, thalassa, la mer.

Meryl arrived tuesday night, almost exactly a week ago, and we spent the night realizing that we were together. taxi, taverna, beer, and friends, we took her to the famed dirty alley, but she wasn’t very impressed with the level of dirt. she is from new jersey, after all.

wednesday, Greek Independence Day, was a day of revolutionary flopping. sleeping in, we missed the parade at syntagma square and whatever other festivities, but we didn’t mind. we ate some delicious feta eggs with orange juice and flopped around a ton before going outside for a little walk. we wandered through the national gardens, laughing at the silly caged creatures at the mini-zoo, circling around ponds, and exploring the unknown regions of the park. as we left the gardens, it started to rain, but that didn’t stop us from walking most of the way up likavitos hill, even in the pouring rain. Meryl had to wipe her glasses clean a few times to take in the view and our clothes felt like soaked sponges, but it didn’t really matter. once we returned to our dry cave, we didn’t leave for the night. we (or at least i) ate massive amounts of pasta for dinner and porpoised out the rest of the time.

we spent thursday exploring antiquity, from the national archaeological museum to the agora to the acropolis.

for all the talk about the gods that i make here, there, and everywhere, i have yet to actually give any physical offering to any of the gods themselves, even to beautiful Athena. well, at least someone finally did:

from the agora all the way to the acropolis, Meryl collected flowers of every sort, shape, size, and color into a pretty little bouquet, which she offered to Athena on the steps of the parthenon. as she placed the votive offering on the steps, one of the guards whistled angrily at her, as if giving an offering to Athena in front of her most majestic temple broke some sort of law. i seriously felt a little worried for the fate of the man chastising people for giving offerings to Athena. after thousands of years of being spit on, the goddess has plenty of extra rage to unleash.

i had planned for us to eat and nap and be fat and merry until nightfall, but when i found i lost my debit card, the evening descended into a slush of stress. it’s okay, though. just annoying. i took my sugar mama out to bios, where we chilled with some whiskey and a few of my friends very, very briefly, but we had to leave very shortly because we had an early ferry to catch in the morning.

ah, the sea:

with the sea stretched out before you like a blue glass desert, one cannot help but descend into the fiery depths of their boundlessly rich thoughts:

for seven hours or so, we slept, stared at each other, thought about everything, ate pasta, drank hot chocolate, smelled the sea, stared at the sea, felt the sea spray in our faces, and talked talk takk…. i could go on a transglobal voyage with that girl. this time, we got off at city-icing on a volcano-cake island, Thira!

we let Maddy, Xanthe, and her awesome Californian friend Donni take our ferry back to Athina, though sad they didn’t decide to stay longer (they got bored of the island). our hostel/motel/hotel/house/home was located in Fira, the capital city of the tiny island. the guy in charge, George proved extremely friendly, driving us from the ferry to our hotel, helping us to our rooms, pointing out all the sights of the island, helping us rent a car, and at the end of our trip, dropping us off at the airport. for friday night, we saw no sights but the walls of our room and a little bit of Fira, including an amazingly delicious, intensely romantic quiet dinner with awful music selected from the 80s and 90s playing in the background. what a crazy friday night.

in the morning, we rented that white piece of crap, 25 euro for 24 hours. that’s 96 cents an hour! what a steal! and the little piece of crap handled like a dream. the island’s got one main “big” road (one lane each way, a lane you can actually fit on) making the whole place feel like a race track. i had a lot of fun driving, especially since it was my first time in a couple of months. a much needed refresher, as we roamed from beautiful rocky site to beautiful rocky site. i forgot what a little rock collector i had with me:

she probably spent about an hour total the whole day crawling on the ground searching for the perfect rock. i think she had about twenty after all was over and done with. i took about five. it’s even more funny because she’s been collecting rocks since she was just a little girl. such a creature of repetition. but as Elise pointed out, i’m really no different. here’s a picture i took of Meryl in the Bay two years ago:

and here’s my same photographic genius of the same photogenic girl just two days ago:

we are fractals. or something. or maybe it’s too big for me to even start to comprehend.

early afternoon we went to the black sand beach wow wow wow then we drove to the red beach where we laid out for awhile and even put our feet in the water wow wow wow then we drove to a lighthouse on the tip of the island wow wow wow then we drove to the highest point of the island wow wowzer wow finally we drove to Oia to watch the sunset wow wow wow ! wow ! wow ! honestly i don’t want to know what it’s like to live in such a beautiful place, because i assume you must get jaded after awhile. all we did was drive around, stop, look, and say wow! that’s all i wanted to do. oh, and eat. i wanted to eat. after our dinner the night before, we decided to eat simply, but then this happened:

delicious items, from top-frame to bottom: Meryl, water, white wine, squid pasta, Greek salad, fried cheese, goat soup. yum yum yum yum yum yum yum. definitely my favorite picture i’ve taken in awhile. Meryl got some awesome pictures on her camera too which i cannot wait to see.

anyway, i feel like i’m necessarily glazing over a lot of saturday because so much of it was just the sea, her pretty eyes, and wily mind. fill in the blanks.

sunday morning we woke up confused by the time change, repeated the Fira omelette experience, and got driven to the tiniest airport i’ve ever seen. it was probably about fifty steps from curb to gate. i was pissed we had to walk ALL the way to gate 6 when gate 1 clearly wasn’t being used. ridiculous. in flight, Meryl at her window seat wowed out at the wonderful views (which i was just about growing tired of myself) while we had a jolly time eating the tiny complimentary chocolate croissants and orange juice. on the bus ride from the airport back to Athina, we listened to one earphone each of Merriweather Post Pavilion [Live], the playlist of mpp live versions that Adam so lovingly compiled for me. things were definitely winding down.

what kind of girl washes her rocks? i don’t know but one of them left for Praha today. see you soon shooting star! don’t burn so bright you melt all your rocks! Continue reading

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