World’s largest private collection of unopened beer bottles.
Greetings from Denmark. We only spent a few hours here, and was only able to send one special postcard out. Kinda sucks, wish we were here for longer. The highlight of the day was pounding 4 straight glasses from the Carlsberg brewery. Doubt I’ll get wi-fi on the other ports of call, so I think I’ll cut this short, hop off the nerdery machine and go spend some time at the buffet. Oink!
The past two hours have been turning out far worse than necessary. I came from work and was rushing to the mall to hopefully pick out a pair of slim Chuck Taylors before they closed. On the way there, I had a little misadventure that shall be kept a secret (I ran out of gas on the scoot, in my confidence that I’d make the next gas station – obviously, I didn’t. The next gas station was a half mile away, and when I got there it was gone. The next one was another half mile. Uphill. FML).
Back at home opening a package and I realized I have the wrong extension tube for the camera – too long by 8mm. Kat walked quite a far distance to have it overnighted from San Francisco to make this trip – it works, but I will be honest and admit that this setup is far from ideal. All stores are closed tomorrow.
Then just right now I found out I bought a 72mm lens cap earlier today, instead of a 77mm that I need. Punyeta.
I will be out of the country for a few weeks with the rest of my family. We will be visiting some pretty interesting places, so if you like receiving random postcards post-marked from mysterious places, kindly let me know and leave a comment or email me your postal address at blog[at]lovine.com.
Everyone is welcome to participate, love is always free from Lovine.com :)
I was going through my Picasa, and chanced upon old pictures of a Batanes trip I took in 2004. I realized with certainty that it was one of the most meaningful trips I’ve ever taken in my life. There were so many reasons that made it amazing, not just because the islands were insanely breathtaking, but more so because of the beautiful people we met along the way, at an opportune time in our lives. Each waking moment was so full of detail and emotion, which happens so rarely once we start acquiescing to the rhetoric of the “real” world.
And so I think this trip was the turning point, seeding an adventurous heart wanting to see the small places of the world. Meeting kindred souls that make the meaning of this world count, pursuing his/her own dream independently yet collectively fueling the fire of what it means to be alive. Everyday I seek that hidden place of curiosity and wide-eyed wonder, believing that our lives are meant to be shared together in good times and bad, trying to understand what it really means to be human.
I usually don’t like reposting content, but here is an old favorite:
there’s nothing like donning a backpack, knowing that everything you own is on your back… but the real thrill comes in knowing that you’re looking forward to seeing things that you can never own inside your bag, but only in the memories that you create in travelling, by leaving everything behind.
Got back a few hours ago from the depths of the Sequoia and Sierra National Forest. Left Friday after work, and met up with Ismael, Alessandra, and Katrina at a developed campground around Lake Hume. I got detoured for an hour thanks to my impeccable pidgeon-like navigational skills, compounded by the lack of a GPS nav unit (aside from me being cheap, the ’79 VW bus does not have a cigarette light accessory charger. I know.)
Saturday was spent “exploring” the back roads, which consists of lots of dirt, the occasional washout and a few deep ruts. At some point, I was even second guessing how the hell Basso convinced me to take a 30 year old VW into the forest trails. Yet Vanessa performed admirably, the engine kept its cool and she meandered gracefully across deep ruts and danced on the gravel. Almost as if she’s more comfortable in the outdoors than she is on pavement! The main goal was to take a specific trail down to the Kings Canyon River, but we were faced with a giant muddy puddle that scared me and we settled on Plan B instead, which is on a small meadow with a great view. :P
Among the highlights of the weekend was going up to “Delilah’s Lookout”, which is this fire lookout point which we chanced upon at a dead-end after getting lost on the trails. We scaled the 70 foot metal structure (and slightly soiled my pants since I’m deathly afraid of heights), met the two volunteers manning the station, and soaked in some pretty awesome 360 degree views of the entire forest. They showed us a few tools they used to track and report wildfires, and I got a kick out of this small 2′x2′ wooden platform raised by glass bottles that they need to stand on during the duration of a storm to insulate themselves from lightning. Plus, Kat scored a vintage copy of “The True Story of Smokey Bear” comic book that they gave us while he was going through the stuff for a fire permit. Very cool stuff.
The other highlights I need to point out are Korean BBQ short rib tacos, chicken skewers glazed with dijon honey mustard, blue cheese hamburgers, and lots of ice cold Tecate. Mmmm. Pictures tomorrow!
Been lucky enough to catch HF every year since we first caught wind of them in Coachella 2008, at the Troubadour in June 2009, and again at the Troubadour in 2010. I’m really digging these guys a lot. Shot with a T1i, but wishing I had an external mic jack so I can use a powered mic instead of the crappy onboard shizzle. Click on the vids for HD :)
Holy Fuck at the Troubadour. I don’t understand how these guys are not selling out their gigs, everyone had a great time and they put on such awesome energy throughout their set. Can’t wait to see them again! I know the GIF animation is ghetto-fab, but hopefully it makes the HD uploads crawling to Youtube right now look even better ;)
Took a shot of Robitussin late last night, and slept like a lush for ten hours. The dog had already been up early, and I woke up when he jumped back into bed and stared at me with a quizzical tilt to his head. So I lifted the comforter, and he promptly walked in and snuggled to my side, and I slept for another hour like the pig that I am. Snort.