The play on words on this Café Bustelo sign — assuming it was intentional — might not be so obvious if you haven’t spent much time in Arizona. Gila Bend is a small town in Maricopa County, located near a bend in the Gila River, about an hour’s drive from Phoenix. However, it wasn’t the … Continue reading Taking a break for Café Bustelo at Gila Blend inside a casino
A cortado from a Cuban café almost made it worth the trouble of flying through Miami International Airport. Kathryn got a cappuccino from the same place. Her larger cup had a description of the café on the back. Honestly, I’d never heard of this place, but I remembered enjoying a Cuban coffee in the airport … Continue reading A cortado almost makes it worth the trouble
After the all-afternoon struggle to buy ferry tickets in Uruguay a few days ago, we decided to show up at the terminal in Buenos Aires two hours before the 12:30 pm sailing, without a reservation, and hope for the best. Good call on our part. Fifteen minutes later we had our boarding passes and had … Continue reading Last meal in Argentina
After talking a break for coffee and a sweet in Wickenburg, we’re home again in Phoenix. Our tea-time stop was someplace new for us, Bedoian’s Bakery & Bistro. It was a great place for a snack, but we didn’t find the 4 pm closing time particularly convenient in light of our 3:40 pm arrival. Fortunately … Continue reading Home, sweet home
Most likely our last stop before the airport, we’re at Shockoe Espresso & Roastery solely because they’re roasting beans right now and clouds of delicious-smelling coffee smoke are wafting through the neighborhood. Kathryn is inside buying a half-pound to take home with us. Whoever sits next to us on our flights will be in for … Continue reading Coffee roasting infusion
We’ve been in Richmond for about three hours now. We checked into our hotel, had an afternoon coffee, went for a long stroll through the city, and now we’re preparing for an early dinner. In the meantime, Kathryn is taking photos of cherry blossoms, something we don’t ever see in Phoenix.
Almost every Friday I have two donuts for breakfast. It’s not a particularly healthy way to start the day, and that’s why I limit myself to once a week. Usually. Last week, at my favorite donut shop, my usual no. 1 — two donuts and a medium coffee — was $2.69 plus tax, which leaves … Continue reading And so it begins
One thing Kathryn and I struggle to find in Las Vegas is a decent cup of coffee. Yes, you can get the paper-cup sludge from one of the Starbucks you pass every fifty yards or so on the Strip, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about a carefully prepared espresso drink, served … Continue reading Sambalatte at Monte Carlo, Las Vegas
I like coffee. I enjoy fast food. I live in Phoenix. You might be inclined to think I’d be a master at ordering a cup of coffee in a local McDonald’s. You’d be mistaken.
I looked around a little bit and found out we could get the Jefferson Hotel, a landmark, historic, five-star hotel in the center of Richmond, for $179 a night, if we prepaid. I don’t like prepaying for a hotel, but I decided to jump on this. I’d been to the Jefferson Hotel once for a Christmas party, but never to spend the night.
Here’s a list of things you probably don’t know about me. It’s in no particular order.
I had hoped to post some follow-up on my travels, but I came home from Europe with a nasty cold, so I’ve spent most of my time catching up on sleep. In some sense, I was lucky that I didn’t get sick until the last day of my trip. Usually I can count on a … Continue reading Delay in follow-up
I’m in Ireland, and for the first time on this trip, I’ve rented a car. I left the airport in Dublin maybe an hour ago, and I started driving north until I found a little roadside pub. I’ve had a pounding headache all day.
I had a brief but funny moment at the border yesterday. The Croatian border guard opened my passport, flipped through the pages for a moment, and said, “Mr. Gilman, where are you going today?” Answering wasn’t so easy for me. “I can’t pronounce it,” I said. “It’s Loo … Lube …” Then, one of the two beautiful young Slovenian women sharing my compartment laughed and said, “Ljubljana.” I guess the answer was okay. The border guard stamped my passport.
Earlier this morning, I bought a 1.5-liter bottle of mineral water while waiting for a train. I was a little surprised that I was able to drink it in about ten minutes. Mostly I’ve been drinking coffee and beer the past couple weeks, and I’ve been sweating a lot as I walk around cities or haul my pack around train stations, so I was probably poorly hydrated.