I kicked off my two weeks in New Zealand by flying into Wellington, at the southern tip of the North Island. I travel frequently, but this flight had wiped me out. Four connections and forty-seven hours later, not to mention a seventeen-hour timezone difference, and I was ready to crash. I drove my little subcompact rental car to the hotel and fell headfirst into bed. Continue reading New Zealand’s South Island
South Africa, particularly Cape Town, is perhaps the second most beautiful place I’ve been (New Zealand takes first). It’s as if you took the Alps and smashed them down into an expansive white beach, and took the weather of the Pacific Northwest and paired it with the vineyards and rolling hills of Napa Valley or Tuscany. Continue reading Cape Town, South Africa
Waiting for a flight out of Nairobi, a week after the airport had been almost destroyed by an arson fire, I was about to blow a gasket. The already inefficient African customs process was a nightmare, with passengers being herded under temporary tents on the tarmac and Kenyan security guards barking orders everywhere.
I flew into New Delhi early one morning and it was the first and only place I’ve ever been where I was unsure if the sun had risen or not.