There & Back Again, Part 4 – Bathrooms, Burritos & Beheadings

There & Back Again, Part 4 – Bathrooms, Burritos & Beheadings

So, there we were, a frozen December night in Tulsa, with our faces pressed against the cold, dirty glass, staring at our empty bus.  The Greyhound station was small.  The movies had gotten worse - instead of Billy Bob Thornton, we were now trying to avoid looking at the screen as an estrogen-soaked Lifetime movie cackled in the background.Olivier & I went outside while I shivered & cursed.  The Greyhound employee inside had informed us that we would be stranded until 3:30am, when the next bus for Amarillo, TX was due to arrive.  If we could get a seat on that bus.  We tried to come up with some sort of plan to get ourselves out of Tulsa.  What we came up with was... jack shit.We went back inside & ran into the kid with the Hari Krishna hair.  "I saw a bar down the street," he said.  "I really like beer.  I make my own brews at home."Olivier &...
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24 Hours, 4 Meals, 2 Countries & 1 Pharmacy

24 Hours, 4 Meals, 2 Countries & 1 Pharmacy

When Olivier and I woke up in our hotel room in Breda, we couldn't focus on much except for breakfast. Here's the thing about breakfast: each time I leave France, I get all worked up and dizzy about what this new place will be serving for the first meal of the day.I judge a country based on its breakfast. Sure, there are other small, less important factors that affect my opinion of a place: the booze, the people, the sights... but, these are all nothing compared to the importance of what food a country starts its day with.France, I love you, but a croissant and a cup of coffee just doesn't cut it for me. This is a snack. Fail.Holland, on the other hand... they have their shit together in this area. There was fruit, cereal, plates of meat and cheese... yogurt, juice, coffee, pastries and a variety of bread. A chubby woman with an absurdly sincere grin brought me...
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