by Zachary A. Marx • • Comments Off on Tour du Mont Blanc: Feet on the Ground, Head in the Clouds
The first day left us questioning whether we could complete the next ten. Everything hurt. Feet, calves, thighs, feet, shoulders, backs, feet, necks, feet, feet and every muscle in between. Muscles hurt that we didn’t even know we had. Did…
I’m writing this because I have no other recourse. If screaming into the abyss is all I have, then screaming into the abyss I must. I don’t quite know where to begin, but perhaps the easiest place is January of…
Check out the other seven parts in this series here. In a way, we’ve come full circle. I started thinking about this series last year when a strange thought crossed my mind while getting off the train. After two years…
This is my latest in my “Strange Places I’ve Called Home” series. The rest can be found here. My first time up to Paju came two weeks before starting my new job at English Village. The first thing I noticed…
by Zachary A. Marx • • Comments Off on Strange Places I’ve Called Home: Part 5, Seoul, Korea
You can read about the other “Strange Places I’ve Called Home” here. In early spring 2007, I was at a strange place in my life. Nine months into my stay in Japan, and I was essentially told my services were…
This is the second half of my piece on Nagasaki. Part 1 can be found here. My other posts in my “Strange Places” series include Milwaukee, South Florida, and Knoxville. Many places have pest problems, but nothing could have prepared me for…
Author’s Note: When I set out to write this piece, I didn’t think it would take so long to fully convey my complex feelings about Nagasaki. As such, it has become a series within a series, divided into two parts.…
Check out my first two parts of my “Strange Places I’ve Called Home” series: Milwaukee, and South Florida. At first blush, Knoxville seems like an odd fit for a boy like me. It is conservative and religious, and I am…
Part 1 (Milwaukee) of “The Strange Places I’ve Called Home” series can be found here. In the history of the U.S., Has there ever been a more iconic city linked to a particular decade than Miami was to the 1980s?…
Authors Note: The idea of this series of posts came about during the usual mind-wanderings induced from a combination of a lack of caffeine and the blur that is my morning commute on the Munich public transit system. Between chapters in…
My birth year is naturally misleading, seeing as I only experienced roughly 10 days of 1982, though “experienced” might be a generous word to use, insofar as a newborn baby doesn’t experience much of anything beyond the feeding/pooping/crying/sleeping cycle. While…
On my most recent flight from Charlotte to Miami, I struck up a conversation with the two ladies seated in my row. Within moments of sitting down, they enthusiastically agreed that they hated flying, and then turned to me to…