Tropical destinations remind me that everything grown isn’t exported. There are more fruits than us four seasons dwellers know of.
Although those of us that don’t live in tropical zones can get imported coconut, mango, papaya and pineapple, there are other delectable fruits that we don’t come across.
Many say that fruit is the single best type of food you can eat. Our bodies crave and love it. I try to eat multiple servings per day.
While it’s easier when I’m situated in one place for a bit, I still manage on the road, especially in the tropics. There, I can’t help but notice fruit all over the place.
“Actually it’s 35,000. But that’s with breakfast included.”
I thought: Breakfast is nice. I read somewhere online that it was 25,000 but . . . Prices go up. Bills need to be paid. It’s not super easy to make a solid living off of running a little place of accommodation.
25,000 Colombian Pesos = $14. 35,000 is $19.50. I shouldn’t have been spending that much each night in Manizales. At the time I justified it being a good value because I had my own room and a home cooked breakfast was included.
Back in December of 2010, I wrote my first post: 10 things I Want to do on My Next Trip. I published this list before beginning my drifting experiment.
I recently got the first comment on that first post, 164 entries later. It comes from the stream of consciousness travel writer and photo blogger Pinky Binks:
Ages ago I wrote a post entitled Nicaraguan Cuisine. Nicaragua was the first foreign country that I’d started blogging in. Now, after a drifting escapade through Perú, the ninth land that my virtual publication has seen outside of the US, I’ve decided to dedicate a post to a country’s cuisine again.
There’s a consensus among aficionados in the Americas. Many believe that Perú possesses preeminence in the category of cuisine.
I’m not going to lie. I’m not a full-fledged vegetarian. That means that when there’s no other option, I suck it up and usually end up settling for chicken and or egg. I even eat beef or pork when it’s served to me in someone’s home. Recently in Colombia I had liver on arepas or corn tortillas while at a home in Virjinia.
As time goes on, I continue to like the idea of vegetarianism more and more. Even though I’m not a fan of labels, for the moment, I’ll loosely consider myself a virtual vegetarian.
Only on the inside of the restaurant will you see the sign: El Rincón de Lucy. Nothing on the outside of the establishment will give an indication that it’s a restaurant that’s colloquially called Lucy’s.
On my first day in Salento, a British couple in my hostel asked if I’d like to join them at a place that they said was good and incredibly reasonable for only 6,000.
For a while now, I’ve been loosely thinking about doing a weekly cuisine series. I didn’t want it to sound cliché or like any of the million blogs out there that are already doing something similar.
Yesterday, while throwing my vegetarian ideals into an amoral abyss, I devoured a typical slab of Colombian steak and all of its accompaniments. It was during that feast when the idea came to fruition: When in Medellín: My Traditional Sunday Dinner.
While traveling, and it should apply to not traveling too, I try to do something helpful on a daily basis. It doesn’t matter how meager or grand it is. It’s just nice to make a contribution to the human race. By doing something, anything, it keeps the consistency and mindfulness going.
I sometimes think: If everyone tried to focus on doing one daily altruistic deed, the world would be even better than it already is.
After walking through the area where guesthouses and their rooftop restaurants seem to occupy every other building, I took a left at the temple.
Suddenly I’d removed myself from touristy looking surroundings. In less than a minute there was nobody throwing out the endless:
While traveling in SE Asia and India over the last few months, a mantra has been popping into my head. It’s not my own catch phrase though.
At the Backpacker’s Inn in Managua this past January, I spoke with a gregarious Canuck from Saskatchewan. He was eating breakfast that he’d brought from home while we were chatting about healthy eating and exercise. He had some sort of fiber-laden cereal concoction.