Tag Archives: trip


~ 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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love to love you 2013

feeling melancholy, feeling unsure about 2014. Continue reading

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Burning Man

in which the )'( burns. Continue reading

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right to your room march

SOMETIMES FOREVER sometimes i find myself a pretty little baby, who i tell all my secrets to. secrets like i do and don’t believe in the universe and like i do definitely always want to sex and like i definitely … Continue reading

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notes from the second and third book of The Sun Also Rises

BOOK II [Bill Gorton] was very cheerful and said the States were wonderful. New York was wonderful. […] He wrote that Vienna was wonderful. Then a card from Budapest: “Jake, Budapest is wonderful.” […] “Well,” I said, “I hear you … Continue reading

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Claremont Inner City Paradise 2011

aerienne is Diogenes meets Joanna Newsom.
Christian is Rodrigo meets deadmau5.
Christian is Victoria Legrand meets Cheech.
Emma is Casper meets Christina Ricci.
Jane is Rasputin meets Rasputin.
Kate is Chong meets Nina Simone.
Rachel is Michael Jackson meets Charles Darwin.
i am Charles Bukowski meets Carl Sagan.
Ryan is James D. Yancey meets Jesus H. Christ.
Shannon is Noam Chomsky meets Holden Caulfield.
Truji is Donna Summer meets Micah Johnson.
Victoire is Bob Dylan meets Victoria’s Secret.

every time i type while stoned, paragraphs look like 8-bit spaceships flying to the right. i think i should play some video games. Continue reading

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electric lights like Las Vegas elevated on mushrooms. gorgeous girls that make California doubt it’s surf-soaked female virility. horrible humid heat sucking my soul harder than Chicago sunshine. metro holes deep as New York City’s skyscrapers. food Turkey delightful found in every machine nook and dirty alley. hot spring water spraying naked from sixty feet underwater to mediate my ‘be here now’ mantra want, despite my mind’s need to be Budapest-bound. Continue reading

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Olympia / Delphi [archive]

i have never tripped so hard in march.

~~~~~ Day One ~~~~~

early thursday morning, after picking up a chocolate croissant (for sam) and a cheese pie and orange juice (for myself), the long bus trip began. we reached our first destination, the dimitsana open air water power museum, after a couple hours of traveling. yes, it has its own wiki. no, it doesn’t deserve it. the welcoming placard:

Welcome to the open-air Water Power Museum ! Forget the city for a while, turn your back on the TV and the rat race. Surrender to the serenity of nature, to the joy of discovery! Turn back a page in the history book! Above all, take your time!
The museum consists of three separate exhibitions and displays a wide range of the ways in which water provided power and was used in production. The tour will take quite a while.

sheesh. it sure didn’t take me quite a while to see that there was nothing at this museum. still, it really got me away from the rat race, even though they had tvs with demos in every goddamn withered shed. in my favorite little shed, a tv sensually spoke to the dusty air about how to tan. seriously, it was the sexiest Greek voice i’ve ever heard, describing how to rub an animal’s hide just right. James and gregor demonstrating:

leaving the tannery and the gunpowder workshop, James and i went on a quest downhill, following the flowing water, to find more sweet exhibits. instead, we found a sweet car:

following classic cya field trip lunch (chips, sandwich, pizza, chocolate, apple), we were offered the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take the 5-minute walk through the village of dimitsana. once safely on the other side, we decided that a spliff was in order. Elaina and i, but mostly Elaina, took care of that quick. i don’t remember if this was pre or post spliff:

sleepy stoned bus ride quickly passed and we found ourselves in sleepy Olympia, a town with double the population of Dimitsana (600) and half the excitement. seriously you could probably carry a conversation with somebody on the other side of the town. with half the day already done (meaning the site and museum already closed), we had the night to ourselves.

Elaina and i lazed around quite a bit, pretending to nap, before enough interruptions from nervous nick and awkward sam compelled us to give up on sleep and to instead give whiskey a shot. and a few shots we gave it. half a fifth and some indie rock later, we rolled in spongy bliss, not really caring about going anywhere or doing anything, except for the cries of our stomachs. so we went down to the lobby, walked the fifteen feet across the street, and walked into the taverna to sit with our friends who had been waiting. i love Greek food.

after dinner, the gang walked through downtown Olympia in about a minute, we walked back to the hotel with big delicious plant plans. Elaina wrapped up the plant in ten seconds flat and the whole room was flying in not much longer. so excellent. everyone left for their own hotels pretty quickly and Elaina and i went up to her room, where Olivia smoked a cigarette with us. laughing and high….

more holy than a monk, you
holy water monster, incense sex stain,
kill my brain
for what it’s worth, break down
my ideology with your brilliant emotion,
my smiley ideology, a cream puff underneath
the hammer of your frown, don’t cry
teeth tongue truck driving, dirt dumping dirt
thing risen on the 0th day from a swamp
to tell the world nothing/everything
to touch what our hands have touched
to fuck the pyramids i’ve struck, as if
my blue amulet
cursed your dress to glitteriness, as if
glitter waned.

stars wane.

~~~~~ Day Two ~~~~~

breakfast fucking SUCKED. the water tasted like cardboard, the juice tasted like piss, i heard the coffee blew, you can’t fuck up cereal but the milk seemed a year old, and by the time i got to my egg, i was just expecting shit. i basically just stuffed a roll with meat and cheese on it down my throat so that i wouldn’t pass out on ruins.

Olympia is epic.

okay, not really. it’s not visually stunning or immediately magically arresting like Delphi, but still. so much history here, so much tradition started here. i mean, the olympics! you have to be a little thinky to enjoy it, though. nothing there really caught the eye. for example, here’s the stadium, originally constructed in the 6th century bc:

after seeing the excessively epic Olympic stadiums of Athina and Roma, i felt pretty underwhelmed by this dusty oval. the same Greeks who built the sublime theatre at Epidaurus thought this was fit for a stadium? but the more i thought about it, the more i liked it. i decided that two of my favorite characteristics are “epic” and “simple,” which i swear aren’t contradictory. clearly one can see the simplicity in this track. you start at one end with whoever you’re competing, and race them to the end. that’s it. how is it epic? because somehow, just because two men were racing from point a to point b, “armies were forbidden from entering Olympia, wars were suspended, and legal disputes and the use of the death penalty were forbidden” (wiki).

oh my god, you want epic? read about pankration. easily my favorite sport event ever. basically it’s one-on-one, completely naked (nakedness was pretty standard for ancient olympic events) fighting, that ends when one side gives up. everything but eye gouging and biting is allowed. unless you’re in Sparta. Spartan pankration has no exceptions. apparently (and not unexpectedly) lots of people died in this event. if i had my own olympics, it would have two events: the foot race and the pankration.

the collapsed ruins of the temple of Zeus won me over pretty easily. even a monolith in utter ruin retains its monolithic nature. just look at the universe. as i learned while Elaina took the picture above, the dimensions of each column matched my height perfectly. interesting. possible conspiracy theories abound. on the opposite side of me, next to the temple, the ruined columns lined up perfectly with where they originally stood.

epic. i gave myself a hard time trying to climb over them and jumping from stone to stone while Elaina walked on the temple, waiting patiently for me to have my fun. winding to the temple to hera, we saw the same little puppy sleeping who had all day been visiting all the site’s visitors. i guess he got tired of switching between English and Italian. Elaina and i tried to figure out which god he was (hera? Zeus?), but she claims he responded to Dionysos. trickster god.

we slowly worked our way out of the site and with the hour or two break we had, looked for lunch. luckily, her and i out of everybody in our group stuck out around the ruins long enough to lose the crowd, so we only had ourselves to deal with while looking for a place to eat. we passed just two blocks outside of the periphery of the site and quickly found a completely empty taverna, where we ordered fanta lemonades and gyros. while we sat with our fantas and bread, in the middle of quiet Olympia, i sort of realized that i felt very high. neither of us had smoked that day, but she felt the same thing. we just laughed and smiled a lot and everything was good. our food came and we devoured it. then we just sat content and high. fucking everything. we walked back to the class meeting spot in front of the Olympia museum a little early, so Elaina took a seat on a bench and i laid down with my head next to her and took a picture of the beautiful everything laid before me that visually embodied how i felt that afternoon:

the museum stores many, many treasures. it’s as if Meryl was the only person bringing offerings to the sanctuary:

those winged guys would rest on opposite sides of these cauldrons…

….with those wild creatures all along the sides. how creepy. i didn’t pay attention, i guess, because i don’t remember their purpose. i’ll make a wild guess: offerings to the gods. this museum pretty much consisted of offerings that the travelers of the Mediterranean brought to the Olympic games. so if you were a warrior, you might bring a helmet:

what’s the site of the Olympic games without an image of Nike?

even in her nearly completely deconstructed state, she hovers off her pedestal, invisibly winged and free, eternal Victory. the walls painted blue might have helped the illusion. from Nike’s room we walked into a massive room with reconstructions of the two pediments of the temple of Zeus on opposite sides of the room. the east pediment (on the front of the temple), depicted the myth of the chariot race between Pelops and Oenomaus, with Zeus in the center, clearly demonstrating a favorite attribute of the Greeks: Order.

the opposite side of the room, with a reconstruction of the west pediment, depicted a myth involving a wild bunch of centaurs crashing a wedding party, with divine Apollo at the center trying to set things strange. here’s a detail:

before getting kicked out of the museum, we set our eyes on the gorgeously sculpted Hermes and the infant Dionysos:

look at that ass. it’s perfect. you see Hermes’ arm going up? supposedly he once dangled a vine of grapes in front of little Dionysos. precious, right? i love Greek religion (and that’s what part two of this trip was all about….. but that will come in a second).

Professor set us free after the museum, so we scrambled for the hotel and i napped. for almost four hours. i woke up with an urge. my iphone started playing Homework as loud as it could stand and i danced to it all alone in my room. so therapeutic. nothing can follow sleep and dancing. except food! Elaina and i met up, we met up with others, and we all made for the best taverna in the world (the one right across the street). delicious, delicious Greek food, i’ll never get sick of you. rounds of wine, i will never get sick of you. we paid and made our way two blocks down the street where you turned left and found yourself at the two only clubs in Olympia: kalypso and face. we chose face.

literally only five or so other people were already there. and they were cya. ridiculous and hilarious. knowing the dj didn’t have many people to account for, i immediately went over and yelled “daft punk!” and he nodded happily. about twenty minutes later, he played One More Time and everybody got up to dance. it ruled. i gave him a thank you!! gesture, but still couldn’t resist walking over, and saying “thank you!! if you have more, play it!!” about ten minutes later, he played Music Sounds Better With You. daft punk in Olympia. what bliss. another five minutes later, ’round midnight, club kalypso closed, so a massive party of high school Italians, mostly girls, invaded our private club, pretty much killing the night, though perhaps increasing its hilarity.

we capped the night pretty much exactly like the night before, a little more dangerously, a little more warmly.

~~~~~ Day Three ~~~~~

i tried to be a little more creative with my breakfast, but it still completely blew. right after we went to the other museum in Olympia, to see a few things real quick before driving towards Delphi.

i know it’s just a copy, but still: look at that fucking motion. beautiful.

back on the bus, Elaina, James, Molly, and i played pusoy, a card game based on poker hands but pretty different from any actual variations of poker. James pretty much owned for the 1+ hour we played, while Elaina and i pretty much blew. i still enjoyed it completely. Elaina, not so much. we eventually stopped in some city for lunch. went to a not-so-taverna on the shoreline, ordered a special omelette, and got a special burger. fucking pissed. couldn’t wait to keep going to get away from shitty-omelettes-equal-burgers-city. i slept too much. i mostly missed the utterly gorgeous views passing by, but the few times i did open my eyes i saw the highway 1 in all its foggy windy mountainous seafoam glory blanketing out before me. i was thrilled. and so we came to Delphi.

our hotel room smelled like shit. or man. gave it his all but missed the last touchdown and pissed about it man. goddamn. sitting in there long enough with the balcony doors swung open, cold means nothing when your room smells like shit, sam and i watched good old American tv (cnn on one channel and Godzilla on the other). it made me delirious. thankfully, after just a little over an hour, we went on a little walk through town, towards this:

that was literally a five minute walk from our hotel. in the words of Richard Caceres, “jesus christ.” i prefer “Athena Parthenos” and “Zeus Almighty” but you might like “om” and “shanti shanti shanti” or “Allah mine,” but whatever stupid sounds you string out of your little mouth, they are only divine whispers in the face of the sublime abyss that is this most beautiful site they call Delphi.

if you read up on it, you’ll get lost in the myths of how this place came to be dedicated to Apollo, god of light, truth, music, poetry, art, and, of course, prophecy. but none of that really is too important. i would travel half the globe, even if i were ignorant of the myths, just to see the chasm here. who could possibly still be blind to truth, to the future, to everything, in the presence of the infinite nothing spinning wildly across the mountains here?

we listened patiently to a couple lectures on the sublimity surrounding us. later, Elaina and i dug patiently into the sublimity of Johnnie Walker and Frank Zappa. even though we brilliantly decided to save money by stuffing our faces with delicious gyros instead of the quaint taverna experience, our persistent green friend tricked me into spending the money i saved on dessert. in the lobby of the hotel, i ordered an amazing chocolate gelato before sharing a chocolate cake with sam. i love decadence.

Elaina and i both wanted to get the hell away from everybody, as usual, so i proposed and she accepted a whimsical wander through the tourist town. i call it that, but it sure beat the hell out of Olympia. it actually seemed like something more than a giant postcard shop. when we wandered to the edge that gave us the epic view before, we saw nothing but darkness stretched out before us. i could hardly stand. my eyes slowly adjusted, meaning deep black mountains took shape against the blackish blue of the night sky. in the distance, little towns blinked like space stations on the edge of nothingness. we literally stood on the abyss. i could never imagine this place 2500 years ago.

~~~~~ Day Four ~~~~~

i just realized that exactly half the pictures i uploaded to facebook are from Olympia and the other half are Delphi. that’s cool. anyway, after a slightly improved breakfast, we made another morning museum trip.

offerings, offerings, offerings. the offerings here dwarfed the offerings at Olympia, because the people who came here we’re serious. giant silver bulls, gold jewelry, statues, images, anything to appease the gods, especially Apollo, and the chance of a fair prophecy from the pythia.

“i got your oracle right here….” said as you draw an invisible joint to your mouth, squinted eyes. that was my joke with myself for the day. after the museum, granted a twenty minute break, Elaina, James, and i took the perfect opportunity to induce the prophetic visions naturally. we walked a little down the highway, where we could see the epic view and smoke all by ourselves. i’m ready for Delphi!

walking up, up, a treasury (literally a building for holding all the treasures brought by pilgrims):

the temple to Apollo:

probably the most epic theatre in the whole fucking world:

views from the theatre:

hopefully all that gives you some idea of what the site looked like. you’d start at the bottom and zig-zag all the way up. up, sharp turn, up, treasury, sharp turn, up, up, up, temple, sharp turn, up, theatre, up, up, up. now what the hell was this place? read that wiki on Delphi and on the Pythia for something in-depth, but this is what i remember. nowhere in the world did you have a human being so connected to a deity. the Pythia, a girl selected from the nearby village, was literally the mouthpiece of Apollo. she would only prophesy once a month, nine months out of the year. the other three months Apollo went on vacation to northern Europe, during which Dionysos would watch over things. but when Apollo was home, he would make those nine days of prophecy spread throughout the year a big deal. early in the morning, the Pythia would wake and take a bath in the sacred castalian spring based at the bottom of the site (our professor joked that if he had to get in the water there, in the morning, with the weather that cliff gets, that he would be put in a prophetic state as well). she would then make the long march up the cliff to the temple of Apollo, chewing on laurels (supposedly would give you bad diarrhea for a week) all the way. once in the temple, she would sit in her tripod (like in the picture i posted above) and spend the day dealing out oracular statements. i received just one and it was very simple: a great religion will fall. thank you, Pythia.

we left the archaeological site, driving to a cliffside town just ten minutes away. it had been snowing very, very lightly when we landed, but by the time i took this picture (after a delicious lunch with Elaina), everything was photo-perfect. nothing was left but the long bus ride back and the last one at that. <3 cya.

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