This isn’t the V.I.P bus, but it’s the first to leave Tamale, so our blue duffle now sits in cargo on top of a motorcycle next to a stack of crisp goat skins.
Category: Travel
I asked whether any of the buses had toilets. “No,” the man chuckled, “But all you have to do is tell the driver and he will stop the bus so you can set yourself free.”
And then, we are broken down again, this time for the last time. The bus is no longer ‘spoiled’, it is ‘finished.’
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Laurens on Wanderlust and Milk
Last night I finished re-reading “A Far-Off Place” Laurens van der Posts’ 1974 sequel to “A Story Like the Wind.” I felt it appropriate to read both novels in preparation for our own journey to Africa, given our recent move to Africa. Set in Africa, both stories explore the relationship between Francois Joubert, a French boy born […]
I’m watching from our ringside seats on the sixth floor of the Aloft Hotel as the human parade fades from the sidewalks outside the AMC Magic Johnson Harlem 9. The New York skyline is rendered in peach and baby blue. A siren screams. A woman in bright fabric catches my eye. She is surrounded by […]