April 3, 2026 I arrived in Pokhara carrying a memory. Not just of a place, but of how it once met me—more open, more spare… quieter somehow. That earlier encounter has stayed with me, and I can feel it here as I walk along the edge of Phewa Lake.
I’ve been sharing Dispatches from the Road mostly through words. This is something different. What you’ll find here is a sequence of images from my time in Chitwan, Nepal. I’ve chosen to let them stand on their own, without commentary—an invitation to experience them as they
March 29–31, 2026 Part 1 — The Engine Off On a jeep safari. One-horned rhinos emerging out of tall grasses. Tree trunks twisted by time. Vines tightening their grip, slowly claiming what stands. Lemurs appearing and disappearing through the branches. A wide variety of birds threading the air. All of
The last time I was in Kathmandu was 16 years ago. My return was far from seamless. A fall left my ribs bruised, and a persistent cough made every movement—especially every cough—sharp and painful. I had planned to stay with my Nepali friend Ratna, but quickly realized that,
[These past weeks have been full—moving quickly through places, especially in China, where I had little space (or WiFi) to pause and reflect. Now, being in Kathmandu, something has opened. There’s room again to take in what’s been lived. So rather than strictly following the timeline, I’
Part of my trip to the Philippines included a five day visit to Busuanga Island which is part of Calamian Group of Palawan. It is a premier destination for scuba diving and island hopping. We chose to stay at a tiny resort in a remote part of the island. In
Navigating traffic in Manila reminds me of other vast cities I’ve visited — Cairo, New Delhi, Bangkok. Many traffic indices consistently rank Manila among the most congested cities in the world. There is less allegiance to neatly painted lanes. Instead, there’s a kind of collective improvisation — a constant jockeying
I’ve been traveling a little more than a week now, and once again I’m reminded how travel reshapes the texture of daily life. One noticeable shift is the distance I feel from the steady pull of current events. I still check in, but the news no longer grips
I share this as a naïve observer, moved by a feeling that arose in the moment. It is not an objective assessment. Earlier in the day I had stood at the site of José Rizal’s execution, and that experience was still with me. That mood carried into our visit
Yesterday was my first full day in Manila, and Henree was on a mission: to introduce me to the soul of her homeland. We began at Rizal Park, standing before the memorial to José Rizal — often called the Philippines’ most revered hero. The sculpture, created by the Filipino artist Eduardo
The fog of transit is finally lifting. I left San Francisco just before midnight on February 11 and arrived at our hotel around 3 PM the next day. An old friend of Henree treated us to a magnificent Chinese meal, and then I surrendered to much-needed sleep. It’s remarkable
This is the inaugural post for my journey. A warm welcome—and thank you for choosing to travel along with me. I find myself imagining you as part of a small, nomadic tribe: fellow travelers drawn not just to movement, but to waking up more fully to the sweep of