Osaka is so humid, the women carry umbrellas. There are 80 ads in each subway car. Stuffed animals are plentiful. Wandering in the sweltering heat down the throbbing streets of Shinsaibashi, I have to stop and marvel at what Japan has become. The’s not a trace of calm or spirituality visible in the frantic mess of plastic and humanity, the answer to every appetite cobbled together into an unholy hybrid, like something out of The Fly. Everything seems to revolve around commerce, cuteness, and coupling; it’s a place where the strobing lights can send even a normal person into an epileptic fit, a land with a service industry so eager to please that even the toilet seats blow water up your ass…. (more…)

After a quarter century in the business, it’s wonderful to visit a country I’ve never been to before. Somehow, Portugal had never made it onto my radar; so when the opportunity arose to visit the famous Oceanário in Lisbon — one of the world’s greatest aquaria — I jumped right in.

 It’s a very 00’s thing, visiting a country specifically to see their aquarium. Let’s face it: as much as one might like fish, and I like them a lot, an afternoon is about as much finned fun as you can stand. True, it helps if there are penguins, and otters; but even their antics, which mainly involve posturing and kelp, add only an hour or so to the mix.

My point is, no one (unless they live next door, in Spain) travels to Lisbon for a single afternoon. And so, with boundless curiosity and a ridiculous amount of luggage, I arrived for a four-day visit, hoping to pack the equivalent of a Fulbright-length residence into one long, extended weekend. (more…)

        Okay, Cyberpals, looks like we’re up and running … literally as well as figuratively. Makes crazy poetic sense that this brand-new website, created with the help of the masterful Bradley Charbonneau, unfolds mere hours before yet another hasty departure — this time for Telluride, Colorado, where I’ll lend my decidedly non-filmic talents to the high-altitude hijinx of the MountainFilm Festival. 

    Which leaves me in a typical pre-road quandry: to pack, or to write?

    In this case, the Middle Way won’t really work. Many people assume that, since I travel for a living, I must be an expert packer. Nothing could be further from the truth. Despite obsessive "packlists" upon which pre-determined numbers of thermal socks, computer adapters, and Zantac are crossed off with a felt marker, the packing process takes hours, and always culminates in a familiar sense of despair: once again, I’ll be carrying something heavy around the world. (more…)