Overcast conditions, a cover of threatening clouds, and a thickness in the air that is unmistakably tropical. Stepping out from the climate-controlled interiors of Tocumen International couldn’t be more predictable. Racing along the Pan-American highway some 15-minutes later, from the comforts of my air conditioned Uber, the distant skyline appears almost as dramatic as the sky above it. The highway, at this point, nothing more than a causeway, with low tide conditions to the right, and the vastness of the Pacific to our left. Up ahead, Ciudad de Panamá or Panama City. 
Category: Travel
The Great Havana Hangover
It was a longstanding dream of mine to visit, and getting there wasn’t without its share of hiccups. So after a few rounds of questioning, when the big cheese at immigration finally waved me through, it was a momentous occasion to be sure. I now had a José Martí stamp on my passport, and unfettered access to Cuba…
CDMX 3.0
It was 2013, on my second visit to Mexico, when I had a longish layover at Benito Juarez International, en route to the northwestern city of Chihuahua. Determined to get a taste of the country’s capital, I made the dash into el centro, returning suitably impressed, and vowing to return for longer, sooner rather than later. Years passed. A half dozen or so friends and acquaintances visited, and every one of them came back singing peans. FOMO ensued.
In the second half of 2018, I finally made it back there. The city had rebranded itself, appeared even more welcoming, and I realized quickly that my first foray there was not even worthy of a teaser. There was just too much to see, do and absorb – I had my work cut out for me. And so I’m back, less than 6-months later, to pick up where I left of; that love affair only getting stronger. Wish I could say the same about my Spanish.
Speaking of love…
Isla bonita
The BN-2 Islander is a nifty little aircraft. Probably one of the smallest I’ve flown in. Over five decades in production, its been the light utility aircraft of choice for militaries and police forces alike. In the Caribbean particularly, its found favor amongst civilian operators too. The airstrip at Ceiba, a tiny coastal town on the eastern edge of the Puerto Rican mainland, is home to over a dozen of these, flying regular eight-minute sorties to the little island of Vieques… 
Ascensors, Azulejos, and a side of Port
An early morning arrival at Santa Apolónia Station – a culmination of three rail journeys that started in London – puts me right in the heart of the Alfama district, the oldest neighborhood in Lisbon. Like every other tourist, I’m probably a nuisance to locals here, as I drag my bag up its steep cobblestone streets, awaking everyone in my path. Truth be told though, this is an excellent bit of acclimatization for me. In a city renowned for near vertical alleys, lofty perches and great vistas, Alfama is quintessentially Lisbon.
The lure of the Cape
Welgelegen is Afrikaans for well-situated. Located in the Oranjezicht neighborhood of Cape Town is a namesake guest house, comprising all of 13 rooms, housed in two late 19th-century Victorian buildings. With Table Mountain visible right behind, it certainly lives up to its name. For me, its the perfect antidote to nearly 17-hours of flying.
Continue reading “The lure of the Cape”
Pullman-style to the Windy City
In their 29th season, The Simpsons hit up New Orleans, and while there, Homer went on a whistle-stop food tour. Gene’s was one of his stops. Open 24-hours, Gene’s serves a smashingly good Po’boy, as I can finally attest to. Right across from it, the latest extension of the city’s endearing streetcar system, one that I could hardly tire of riding. Both of those cultural icons, only a stone’s throw away from my Airbnb. Its good to be back in the Big Easy…
Continue reading “Pullman-style to the Windy City”
Silver Star to NYC
The rising sun gradually illuminates Biscayne Bay, the Port of Miami, and eventually, our hotel room. Hushed conversations, and the stirrings of the morning are difficult to ignore, and there’s far too much daylight by now, to continue snoozing through. South Beach lies, but 4-miles away. I coerce myself out of bed, lace up, and head out across the Venetian Causeway…
Continue reading “Silver Star to NYC”
Provo, and then some
Providenciales, or Provo, is where you’ll typically fly into, if you’re visiting Turks and Caicos. And chances are, you’ll probably end up staying in the Grace Bay area, home to a namesake beach, which more often than not finds itself at the top of worldwide rankings. That is, of course, if you have the resources, and are willing to shell out top dollar. Most people traveling here, it seems, do have the means necessary. But what if your pockets don’t run so deep? The good news is, a visit here is still feasible, and, as it turns out, a lot more exciting…
PNG, for short.
Flight 19 from Hong Kong has been a smooth one so far, and I’ve even managed to get some shuteye. Final cabin checks call for the lifting of our window blinds, and I do so with the excitement of a little child. I’m about to land in a part of the world that has, for the better part of my existence, been nothing more than an enigma; a far away land, inaccessible to most, with many a story to its credit, but few facts to speak of. A smattering of islands between the southern reaches of Indonesia, and the northern tip of the behemoth that is Australia. In pre dawn light, I behold Papua New Guinea…
brat's ramblings 