travel blog
“How we doing, Austin? You like our city, or are you bored and ready to get back to Austin and your garage bands and such?” That quote pretty much sums up the entirety of my trip to New York City. It was a whirlwind 24 hours, which doesn’t provide enough time to see much of
There are some moments while traveling when I find that I’m almost embarrassed to be an American. I am grateful for the many things that my birthright has given me, don’t get me wrong–I have a passport that allows me to go most anywhere in the world without hassle, and I was lucky enough to
Despite the fact that Philadelphia is, in fact, two hours east of where I grew up in Pennsylvania, it’s always felt like home to me. And it’s where I often tell people that I’m from (because honestly, it’s easier than “do you know where Harrisburg is? Yeah, I’m from 45 minutes south of there.”). I
A few months ago I first heard Lord Huron‘s album, Lonesome Dreams, and imagined myself blasting that album the entire drive to Pennsylvania, singing along to these lyrics that would become my travel anthems: I been dreaming again of a lonesome world; Where I’m lost and I’ve got no friends; Just the rocks and the trees in my
Amish Country (or Dutch Country), Pennsylvania is an interesting little area located in Lancaster County. Despite having grown up close to there and going to college just minutes away, I never had much of an interest in visiting the touristy hot spots that draw thousands of visitors every year.
Almost six years ago I left Pennsylvania behind in favor of new adventure, yearlong warm-ish weather, and a chance to start over. I had grown weary of Pennsylvania, disillusioned by the small-town mentality where I was living, the lack of decent jobs/wages, and a dating pool that I felt was more like a cesspool. It’s
I grew up in South Central Pennsylvania, where there’s an overabundance of what I refer to as pizza food–this would be things like pizza (duh), cheeseburger subs, tuna melts, and my favorite thing ever–cheese fries. In the area where I was raised, cheese fries are made by piling mounds of mozzarella on a plate of
We all have some strange tales from our travels. I have a knack for meeting some of the weirdest people in the world, or finding myself in the strangest (and sometimes most uncomfortable) situations ever. From a cabbie in Philly telling me about spending years in jail for gang activity to three men surrounding me
About 40 minutes northwest of Austin, there’s a small podunk town of about 1200 without much more than a post office, a few shops, and The Old Coupland Inn and Dancehall. My parents lived in Austin for a few years in the 1980s (when I was born and for a couple years after) and frequented