Photostream
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Burger Queen
for sure her burgers are better
I couldn’t get an actual glimpse of the queen herself, but surely her burgers were better.
Sand Dunes
those tiny specks are people
Like I mentioned below, the HUGE sand dunes in Huacachina.
Huacachina
the sun sets on a desert oasis
After making it through my first Peruvian bus experience I had to spend the night in a little town called Ica. Ica is a shithole. Which is understandable considering it had been almost completely decimated by an earthquake in 2007. But that’s not why it’s a shithole. Ica is a shithole because they’ve managed to replace all of the ordinary car horns that were working perfectly fine with car alarms and police or ambulance sirens. The drivers in Ica like to use their horns to indicate when they’re turning, when they’re slowing down, when they’re speeding up, when they want your attention, when it’s okay to walk in front of them, when it’s not okay to walk in front of them, and maybe occasionally just for fun. Which when your car can make those ear splitting sounds whenever you push a button it’s probably fun to watch everyone around you wince. Or so it seemed. I only spent one night in this quaint little town so I could escape the next day to what essentially amounted to a pond in the desert surrounded by HUGE sand dunes.
Dinner
a local delicacy
Koreans have dog and Peruvians have “cuy”, or to us, guinea pig. I didn’t get a chance to try this delicacy while I was there (having had food poisoning twice, I stuck with what I knew) but a guy from New Zealand, who had traveled the world, extensively, and was big into risk taking, took a bite out of one and stopped. I guess they make better pets than dinner.
Welcome to Peru
workin' hard for the money
I’d already been in Lima a few days, and it wasn’t until I was about to leave that I finally pulled out my camera. I guess I wasn’t that inspired by the Miraflores neighborhood I was staying in, or was tired of the hassle of carrying around a huge DSLR everywhere I went, but I’m glad that I got the chance to relax on a “direct” bus to Ica where it was as easy to just stick the camera out the window and snap what I saw. In America, you’ve got the bums washing your windows with newspaper and soapy water, but in Lima you get about four or five kids together, do a quick tumbling routine and then refuse to move until you’ve collected enough money. Shrewd but effective.
Finally!
This is what Mt. Fuji looks like from far away after the sun has risen. Hopefully that’s descriptive enough, as pictures are worth a thousand words and this one’s sayin’ a lot more than a thousand…..
I have no idea
It wouldn’t be a japanese site without some vaguely (homo)erotic cartoon characters on the premises.
Morning mountain mist
On the opposite side of Mt. Fuji, some morning clouds drape across the sleepy village nestled in the mountains.
The results of a pre-dawn hike
This is where getting up at 4:30 in the morning and hiking for a good hour and a half will get ya. Not a bad deal, seeing as how you get to see the sun rise over Mt. Fuji.
Mt. Fuji
Yes, that behemoth in the background is Mt. Fuji. I’ve never felt so insignificant before as when I rounded the corner and was suddenly stopped by this sight. Of all the things it inspired at that moment, the most intense was a desire to climb it one day. If it could inspire such feeling from so far away, I can only imagine what it must be like to look out on the land that surrounds it from its pinnacle.
Unfortunately, it’s closed for the season so I only get to go up part of it tomorrow. But there’s always next year/time….
Literal translation
The literal translation for this place was “place where you can buy alcohol and stay”. Or, as we like to call them in America, restaurants.
The Best Souvenir
If this could fit in my backpack, I’d take it. In a heartbeat. Screw all the Japanese social customs about theft and honesty. Bringing this puppy home would be worth every shameful moment. If the Japanese invent nothing else in their collective lifetime, that will be okay with me. Instead of describing in intricate detail the miracles this device is capable of, I’ll leave the power of your own imagination to fill in the blanks that the Japanese-only instructions on the armrest explain. (Although it’s best not to push said buttons while toilet is in use, it can make for some hard to explain to your dorm mates surprises)
Bamboo path
One of the shots I found while wandering around a bamboo forest in Kyoto. If you listen to the Air track “Alone in Kyoto” parts of it sound eerily similar to what the bamboo forest sounds like….
It looks brand spankin’ new!
Just an example of the impeccably clean tracks in Seoul’s underground. Eat your heart out MTA! There’s no refuse, no river of digustingness running in the middle of the tracks and more importantly not one single sign of vermin anywhere!!! It’s a far cry from the rat infested underground in the big apple.
Transit Heaven
I could rave and go on for ages about the miracle that is the Seoul Subway system. If there were a promised land of transit systems, surely it will be modeled after Seoul’s. Not only could you eat off of the tracks of the train itself, the entire stations are spotless. They’re meticulously maintained by these ladies in orange vests who make it their personal mission to see not a stray piece of garbage or misplaced gum mars their charge. In addition to the general cleanliness, the trains themselves are efficient and easy to understand. Everything is announced in Korean first, then followed in English. Signs are accompanied by an English translation and diagram. I dare the deaf, blind and stupid to get lost in the Seoul underground. And even if they might temporarily look confused, there was ALWAYS a helpful Korean nearby to provide assistance. In addition to the headache handles, my only other complaint would be that the system shuts down at like 11 p.m. How can you call yourself an international city and capital of your country when your transit system (buses included) shut down at 11!!! My only rational is that surely the tireless workers that maintain such an impeccable system must rest at some point.
Headache Handles
To the average Korean, these swinging subway handles represent the opportunity to sway comfortably while enjoying their daily commute. To the 6′3” American, these headache handles represent a constant source of bruises on the forehead, sharp exclamations of pain and muttered curses under my breath.
Just when I thought I’d mastered the minefield of handles, I’d turn around to leave only to be smacked in the face by one of the damn things. If I had one complaint about the amazing and wonderful subway system of Seoul, it would be the existence of these death traps.
Dead pig
Not bad for not having shot an arrow since high school.