I LOVE TO WRITE NEARLY AS MUCH AS I LOVE TO TRAVEL. HERE IS ARE SOME OF MY FAVORITE NARRATIVES PUBLISHED ON THE TRAVELERS NOTEBOOK.COM
Want me to write for you? Let’s talk.
As I am spotted, a rotund, tattooed fellow stands on deck and waves his arms like a man in desperate need of rescue. All eleven men on the boat are shirtless and bronzed like church bells and rub hairless pot bellies with supreme self satisfaction… READ MORE.
BOMBS OVER PHONSAVAN
Illustrations depict the mechanics of cluster bombs. 300 baseball-sized explosives fill the weapon. A few hundred feet above the ground the cluster bomb is split in two and its payload fans out to a 100 square meter radius and then destroys everything. Everything that does not die is taken apart to shrieking pieces…READ MORE.
HOW TRAVEL SAVED MY LIFE
The stigma of death was never far and often while standing in a cathedral or trying to will myself to sleep, I was keenly aware that I was running. I knew behind my constructed guise of a carefree traveler I was a young man under a curse…READ MORE.
NOTES ON LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
Brown from a lifetime of Montagnana afternoons, she is tall, dark. She moves like a slender tree. The smile that breaks across her face and never fully retreats breaks my heart…READ MORE.
DO IT WHILE YOU’RE YOUNG
In the Cambodian border town of Poipet, Bridget and I share a cab ride with an excitable and elderly Frenchmen named Pierre. Triumphantly old and traveling the world alone, he is strenuously hard of hearing and very happy to be in Cambodia…READ MORE.
NOTES ON (ALMOST?) GETTING ROBBED IN LAOS
The bus pulls aside and while the men step out to liberate their bladders, the glint off the barrel of a large machine gun catches my eye. The weapon is protruding from a young man’s denim coat. I stand and stretch, only now I have an electric current running from my toes to my testicles…READ MORE.
TRESPASSING AS TRAVEL
In a world that has been picked over, trampled and bricked in, the (law-flaunting) intrepid spirit must look for signs that point the way to adventure.
Sometimes those signs read: NO TRESPASSING…READ MORE.
NOTES ON RUNNING OUT OF MONEY
Let’s get one thing straight: I wasn’t giving this cabbie our last ten bucks. No way. Not happening. The cabbie looked at me, me at him, and then both of us at the trunk, locked with our backpacks inside…READ MORE.
NOTES ON TEMPORARY HOMELESSNESS IN ITALY
It’s late. The lucky fuckers settling into sleep in the hostel lobby won’t meet your eyes as the desk girl tells you she can’t let anybody else crash in the foyer…READ MORE.