The Rockower Post; National Jewographic;
Reports from the Daily Paulmanac; Foreign Paulicy Review; Tales of a Hunger-Blatherer; The Gastrodiplomacy Chef; Chairman of Paulestinian Authority; the last King of Nepaul
On a grey monday morning, I sat in the awning of the Frisco Inn. The sign for Eggs Florentine had been tempting me for days. The rains started to come down, and I inched closer under the covered awning. A slow steady drip appeared down the corner of the overhang.
The Fiorentino were even better than anticipated. Yellow creamy Hollandaise over cooked green spinach and a poached white egg. The English muffin held just firm enough amid the yolk and Hollandaise drowning to pull through.
I sipped kaffie verkert under The Grasshopper's words Omnibus Idem.
Dear Life Traveler, Take a moment, And allow the sounds of Nature To awaken your inner silence, And take you into your subconsciousness, Where your deepest truths lie. Love your life and its gifts.
Via MK. The words of the prophets are written on rocks.
When all the revelers and whores have gone to bed, an eerie, early calm embraces the city--that is when I love Amsterdam the most.
In the quiet still. as canals create infinite arches with the stone arched bridges, and the only sounds are the bells ringing; birds calling; the street sweepers gently dusting street sleepers.
Filed under: the little things: drinking tap water. Or from the shower. After long periods in Africa, where that is not remotely possible. I love such luxuries.
Amsterdam is Disneyland for big kids.
You'll remember me when the west wind moves across the fields of barley.
Sting, "Fields of Gold"
A la gloria.
Rule your mind, or your mind will rule you.
I love getting to focus on the present. And pay attention to the beautiful contours of a tram as it bends to take a curve.
I love focusing on now.
I had a wonderful moment of blueberry zen in the depths of Frankdaal Park, sitting on a park bench under a beautiful old tree. Its gnarls showed its years. I listed to God moving slowly over the face of the waters by Moby.
I love Amsterdam because I feel the most free here. Holland has drawn a line in the sand of acceptable behavior, and I am on the ride side of that line. It's comforting to know that I have to work hard to do wrong here. If Holland says don't do it, who am I to disagree?