Travel

Nepal 53: The Drunk Welshman

Daniel 5 Comments
High-resolution Welsh flag

I took a few more games from the Malaysian. Either he had gotten too stoned, or I was starting to understand his playing style.

“Tomorrow, we will play again?” he asked me as I stepped back from the board.

“Nah, I have to go trekking tomorrow,” I said. “Need to redeem your reputation, losing against this youngster?” I say, half-joking. He had handily taken the majority of games from me. I knew he was the better player.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the Malaysian said, looking down. “You are not that young.”

“I’m only 23!” I protested.

“Exactly,” he said. “That is not that young.”

I stepped back, slightly offended. He was probably right. He seemed like the sort of man who was usually right about things.

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Book Review: Wayward by Tom Gates

Daniel 1 Comment
Tom Gates Matador book

As loyal readers of my blog know, I like travel and I like writing. But I don’t like much of the “travel blog” type of writing which dominates the scene these days. “We went to City A, did activities B-D, took these pictures, then moved on to our next destination” doesn’t do much for me. I prefer stories, and moments.

This is where “Wayward: Fetching Tales From a Year on the Road” by Tom Gates excels.

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Nepal 52: Something to Do With Your Hands

Daniel 12 Comments
Pokhara Cafe

I shook hands with my opponent across the chess board. Beams of early-afternoon sunlight broke through the roof of the Pokhara cafe where we were sitting.

My opponent grinned a toothy grin. He was dark-skinned, freckled, missing one of his front teeth, and had a big, bushy white beard. He wore a light scarf wrapped around his head. This was the Malaysian.

Fifty-one years old, professional itinerant, and damned good chess player.

He’d just taken four out of five games from me, smoking hash almost the entire time.

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Nepal 51: Why Do You Want to Move to Austria?

Daniel 4 Comments
Linz Austria

When I finally reached the coffee shop where I had played chess with the Malaysian, I ran up the stairs with a spring in my step.

I had my interview. I had time to arrange a trek. I would trek, I would leave Nepal, return home, and show up on Holly’s doorstep with a dream in hand, ready for our next great adventure.

That was one option, anyways.

Regardless, as the Malaysian I was coming to see had said; it was time to rearrange my life.

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