The Conversationalist

Dear Family and Friends, I write you today from a crumbling 17th Century Chateau in the south of France. The plaster is crumbling off the walls and there is a resident bat who patrols the grounds at night.

Dear Family and Friends, It’s been a week of hopscotching across Morocco. I’ve wandered the alleys of Essaouira, slept in a scuzzy Casablanca hotel, dealt with the stomach flu in Rabat and got hustled in Fez.

Dear Family and Friends, I write you today from the windy rooftop of an Essaouira hostel. It’s a humid, overcast day. The seagulls provide a squawky soundtrack, a random melodic line over the constant white noise of the Atlantic Ocean’s unyielding movement. I am alone. I am with you.

Dear Family and Friends, I write you today from my dingy little hotel room, a shouting distance away from the glorious gong show of Jemaa el-Fna. At various points throughout the day, I can hear the screech of a Berber’s horn and the echo of the muezzin’s holy voice as he calls the people to prayer. [...]

Dear Family and Friends, It was a very long 36-hour transfer from Cape Town. But I arrived to Marrakech in weary, yet optimistic spirits.

Dear Family and Friends, My adventure in South Africa has come to a close. I leave with many items still on my list of “things to do and see” – wild elephants, vineyard tours and the eclectic-ness of the big city of Jo-burg. Yet I haven’t been twiddling my thumbs while in the Queen City.

Dear Family and Friends, The world did not end on Saturday! And if you’re anything like myself, you probably think that’s just dandy. So in honor of this lovely occasion (the non-apocalypse), I thought I’d take a moment and really ‘self-reflect’ on my travels thus far.

Dear Family and Friends, It’s been a week of visiting museums, chatting with locals and sipping the occasional glass of South African pinotage. But to be honest, I’ve found my week to be rather lackluster. When I’m not getting mugged everything just feels so sickeningly safe.

Dear Family and Friends, It’s been a tumultuous and lovely week in Cape Town. I got mugged on Tuesday night.

Dear Family and Friends, Tonight I write you from La Pausa Café in the Buenos Aires International Airport. It’s a generic bistro, the type that appears in many airports across the world. It has dim, beige lighting and an attempted-chic bar. The clientele seems weary.

Dear Family and Friends, Buenos Aires is a beautiful and complex place. Sometimes I think that I might go mad with the traffic and exhaust fumes and dog shit, but other times I’m sitting in a historic café, reading a book and sipping a cup of wine, wondering why it took me so long to [...]

Dear Family and Friends, When I wrote you last from Buenos Aires, I was dealing with the recent effects of a night spent snuggling with bed bugs. This is not an experience that I recommend. But I’m happy to announce that, over the course of the week, my wounds have healed.