Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Another hillock in my site. This one is right adjacent to the city actually. I walked from the top of it back to my apartment in about 45 minutes. Owned by a mining company I hear.

COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. (Pre-roasting so it's not quite as aromatic in this form, but daaaaaamn it is still good.)

Palm. What can I say? I visited a hosteria in town to take some tourism related photos and the woman there said she had 31 different species of palm growing on the property. What's her place called? El Jardín, of course. (The garden)

Here's one of her bromeliads. It's called Cuero de ______. Crap I can't remember the second part of the name. It's a type of snake though, so the local name means "Neck of this certain kind of snake that Mountainjedi can't think of right now." Beautiful though.


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