Icelandic Return: Keflavík to the Westfjords

We don’t go back to places. However much we may enjoy a particular destination, the number of places we have seen and the variety of experiences we have gained along the way are still far outnumbered by those yet to be encountered. It’s the traveler’s perennial dilemma. You travel thousands of miles, find your favorite…

Trump’s Presidents’ Day Speech

What follows is a transcript of the President’s planned remarks for the 2017 Presidents’ Day celebrations. I am merely the messenger; the “facts” are all the President’s … Welcome everyone. Thanks for coming. We had an amazing victory. A truly great victory. More like an annihilation, really. We had great crowds, I mean, spectacular crowds…

I don’t want your freedom

The obituary for 2016 will be full of obituaries. However, contrary to popular belief, we won’t only be mourning the year’s incongruously large loss of people we made famous. We shall also be grieving for things more fundamental; the loss of our decency; the loss of our humanity. It was a year when we lost…

Think Again

Standing behind the reception desk of a hotel in south west Iceland, the clerk was being as polite as his utter bewilderment and exasperation would allow. He was wearing the expression of someone who has just suspected he is the victim of a prank. His haunted eyes scarcely blinked as they flitted around the room,…

What On Earth Are We Doing?

I am high above you right now, looking down. I see one world. Its raging oceans are sheets of glass, erratically molded around the globe. Its highest mountain ranges but crumpled pieces of paper, imprecisely flattened. Its most hostile deserts are as forbidding as a pristine beach on a late summer evening. Its dark, impenetrable…

A few more days in Argentina

I have always been fascinated by maps. As a child, I would spend hours paging through my first world atlas; a book with a glossy, light blue, hardback cover whose spine weakened with each enthusiastic read. Occasionally, with a pen in my unsteady young hand, I would trace the borders between countries whose names I…