Flor de Canela             The proprietor   Mendoza Province, abutting the Andes in west central Argentina,  is a big smudge of green amidst a large expanse of merciless aridity.  Its verdancy is owed to the enslavement of Andean snow:  upon

If the latter part of the above title makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand up and your taste buds flee in terror to hide behind your uvula, then you have the good sense to find the presence of hot dogs and sushi on the same menu

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

Clockwise from left: heart, corn, rocoto The flower of Peru’s glory is at its highest peak of florid magnificence when the traveler steps outside the bounds of urban settlements.  This can be difficult at times; the central yolk of most Peruvian cities is broken here and there and allowed to

 Worms Belen Market is like a big liver planted in the heart of Iquitos, a chaotic, thrumming organ through which an Amazonian torrent of fruits, vegetables, meats, barks, salves and black market sneakers is caught and dealt with in some fashion or another. Iquitos, in case you haven’t heard of

Grill master working the heat As the latter part of the above title flat-footedly implies, this weeks article has me journeying into savage, humid environs redolent of the morally queasy atmosphere of Joseph Conrad’s most famous novel.  Instead of the Belgian Congo, however, I find myself in Peru’s Amazon Basin.

Cusco’s Central Market Large, central markets situated in cities with lax or non-existent health codes always make a strong impression upon the senses of smell and sight, and, if you’re  somewhat brave, taste.  Peru boasts many markets and most I’ve frequented are loose affairs; no one blinks an eye at

Mompox, Colombia   When traveling in a strange land with only a hazily defined sense of purpose to guide you, you find yourself pointed towards destinations based on some fairly whimsical pretexts.   The one which inspired me to make a long, harsh journey over unpaved roads perched in the

                Cartagena’s Plaza de Trinidad   For the last three years I´ve been scraping tips into a pile large enough to finance  a relatively thorough exploration of the lower half of The Americas.  For the purpose of this article, I’m primarily intersted in