Hostels are great for all types of travelers. They range from grungy party-centric frat houses to family-friendly homes complete with childcare. Finding the "best" hostel can be a trying task. Does "best" translate to nicest? Cleanest? Most fun? Most centrally located? To most travelers, "best"
I did not walk 2,600 miles from Mexico to Canada for glory. I didn't do it for charity, I didn't do it for exercise, not for fun, not for attention, not for personal growth. I did it for another type of growth: beard growth. And I was incredibly successful. Only five days after my Pacific Crest
Since arriving in Japan, I have spoken very little English, and even less Japanese (since my current vocabulary is limited to a few dozen words). So as strange of an introduction as it was, it was nice when an older Japanese man stepped into my train compartment, and said, "Welcome to Japan!"
My passport will not swipe at the self-service kiosk - do I really have to get into that giant line of people behind the check-in counter? An airline employee on the floor attempts to rectify the situation, but after ten minutes of failed attempts (and the aggravated bending of my passport) she
"Do the two of you have any money?" Not normally what you expect to be asked when you sit down at the local diner for breakfast, usually it's more along the lines of "how are you?" or "can I get you something to drink", but on this particular morning in the hick town of Bridgeport, California,
"But aren't you afraid of murderers?!" It is the question asked most often by people picking me up while I am hitchhiking. It is also common to be asked this by people in towns whilst discussing the Pacific Crest Trail (and on a related note, people love telling you about the most recent bear
I don't think I have ever been more content just sitting in a McDonald's watching obese Americans hasten their impending biological failures. I myself put down a double quarter-pounder with cheese, a Big Mac, a 10 piece chicken nuggets, a large fry, and a gallon of Dr. Pepper, so I don't know
After taking my first zero in Idyllwild, I felt it necessary to make up for lost time and go from Idyllwild to Cabazon in one day: a 33-mile trek (spoiler alert: this was a terrible idea). Armed with new socks, new insoles, and a freshly laundered wardrobe I felt rather invincible (especially