A biting wind sweeps through the desert, kicking up clouds of sand that swarm around me. A single grain of earth may not hold much power, but, flung in unity, the course grains slash against my exposed skin, cutting with a
The languid ripples of Laguna Cejar tiptoe to shore and gently retreat, leaving in their wake wisps of salty foam that rest on the sand like piles of cotton candy, frothy and white. Caramel waters ebb into turquoise and then a deeper blue, colors
I remember the first time I visited three countries in one day, back when I lived in Europe and spent a long weekend racing through the Benelux countries. I began the day with a brisk walk through the city of
After a week of 3:30 a.m. wake ups and late nights during a whirlwind trip to South America I couldn’t summon the energy to rise again at this hour to do what most people do when they visit San Pedro
The force of Iguazu Falls is omnipresent. It’s in the air, misty air that drenches my face, my hair, my clothes. It’s in the sound, the thundering drum roll of falling water that blocks out nearly all else. And of
I was hired for my current job in Los Angeles at 1 p.m. on a Friday the day after I flew back to the states after finishing my 18-month contract in the rainforest of Costa Rica. At 9 p.m. that very
I returned to Los Angeles yesterday after a whirlwind business trip to South America (with a few adventures squeezed in of course) and my heart is aflutter with a renewed passion for the magic that is Latin America. Taking a trip to South
I stand in a field at Domaine Saint Diego winery outside of Mendoza, Argentina. It’s a perfect autumn day in the Southern Hemisphere and the sun beams down bright and warm on my shoulders, dousing the neatly lined rows of
In the fading light all the greens at Finca Adalgisa are beginning to glow. It is as if the sun is lingering on the leaves, attempting to ward off its pending departure from this beautiful place. I step into one of
Baby I would climb the Andes solely to count the freckles on your body. Standing atop a narrow, concrete pylon, look out across the El Yeso Reservoir, Shakira’s lyrics blast through my mind, their invisible sound the only interruption to the