Category: NOT NEW YORK
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Meanderlust
If you’re wondering what kind of traveler I am, I’d say I’m a meanderer. A fully committed wanderer travels without a fixed destination, his appendages likely bearing deeply insightful tattoos in foreign characters, including one that, loosely translated in English, says: I go wherever the wind takes me, because the wind is unpredictable, at times…
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Inside Alcatraz
“We’re closed.” My heart fell. I’d spent the last five minutes taking pictures of shoes lined against the wall. The light cast a neat silhouette, the room full of things once owned by society’s ills. Or was it by officers? I couldn’t get the settings quite right, so it didn’t even matter. It had been…
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Alcatraz
At first glance, Alcatraz didn’t seem to provide much respite from the five days of work I’d just had in San Francisco. I’d had little sleep all week, so I felt ragged by the time Phil joined me. I needed a nap, a day of lying down, of lazing about on a beach somewhere. San…
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The Silent Island
Coney Island in the fall is far different from its summer self. At least how I imagine it to be; I’ve never been at its peak. The boardwalk was empty. A man growled at me for taking pictures that weren’t even of him. A lone musician strummed his guitar, singing to no one. A lady…
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A Coney Island Kind Of Day
I’d dreamed about my vacation for months, hoping to jet off somewhere overseas or embark on a grand road trip. But as my vacation approached, it became obvious I hadn’t put enough time in planning a trip or even budgeting for it. My grand adventures, I decided, would be in the city. Flights to foreign…
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A Second Too Soon
Life is different through a point and shoot. At least it was for me July Fourth, DSLR-less and left to my own devices. The point and shoot, so compact and handheld, drifted its focus from the fireworks above water to the silhouettes a few feet away. It didn’t help that I’d neglected to bring mine,…
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Poor Man’s Shia & Other Things
I’d read somewhere Toronto had a thriving underground nightlife, and my friends were determined to find it. Luckily some Torontonians they’d met on another trip showed us the places to go to be seen. I went along with it, despite my usual desire not to be seen by anyone but the people I want to…
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Subways and Streetcars
It’s easy to get around Toronto. One morning S. and I wandered over to the outskirts of Toronto to a Cambodian restaurant, where she talked to the owner in Cambodianglish for 10 minutes. “I’m proud of myself!” she said afterward. Here, we waited for the streetcar. Just around the corner from our hotel, Union Station.…
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The Art of Undocumenting
“We should plan tomorrow better.” We’d breezed through Kensington Market, a neighborhood in Toronto known for its diverse population, restaurants and nooks, and were in the midst of doing the same to Queen Street West. There went a bookstore, an art gallery, and so on, until we’d passed so many they might as well have…
