Wisconsin, Cranberry country

Growing up in the heart of Wisconsin, cranberries weren't just a crop—they were a way of life. After all, our state produces more than 60% of the country’s supply!

There is a specific smell that signals fall in Central Wisconsin. It’s not just crisp air and woodsmoke—it’s the tart, clean scent of crushed vines and cold water. For those of us who grew up here, autumn doesn’t start with a calendar; it starts when the first marsh in Warrens turns from green to a deep, bruised crimson.

For over 50 years the Warrens Cranberry Festival has been a rite of passage. It’s massive, it’s chaotic, and the cranberry cream puffs are worth every second of the wait. But my secret? Stay a day late. Once the crowds thin out on Sunday evening, the village exhales. That’s when you can truly feel the magic of the harvest—the quiet hum of a community that feeds the world, one tart little berry at a time.

This isn't just a "stop on the map." It’s a season of pride. If you’ve only ever seen cranberries in a can, you are missing out on one of the most soul-stirring sights in the Midwest.

 

 

Wisconsin, my return...

 

Season to season, hour to hour, the Wisconsin State Capitol remains Madison’s most commanding landmark. Its grandeur is constant, regardless of the angle. For me, it’s the ultimate bookend to my new workday—a stunning view I get to claim twice a day.

Nevada, summed up in 4 pictures...

"Tomorrow is the most important thing in life.

Comes into us at midnight very clean.

It's perfect when it arrives

and it puts itself in our hands.

It hopes we've learnt something from yesterday."

- Inscription on John Wayne's headstone

Eight years in Northern Nevada wasn't just a chapter; it was a defining era. Looking back, I’m still stunned by how deeply that high-desert life took hold of me.

Nevada is a blank slate—it becomes exactly what you have the grit to make of it. Even now, a rugged, "cowboy" spirit pulses through its modern veins. But the true soul of the place was the people. I am forever grateful for the friendships I forged there; without those bonds, my time in the Silver State would have been a much shorter story.

This is where it happens... all 13 Million and counting...

Manila, Philippines

Boterismo

Fernando Botero Angulo (born 19 April 1932)

Fernando Botero is more than just an artist from Medellín; he is the heartbeat of Colombian creativity. Through "Boterismo," he breathes life into figures with a grand, exaggerated volume that feels like a warm embrace or a sharp, humorous wink at the world. His work doesn't just sit in galleries; it lives on the world’s greatest stages, from the bustling energy of Park Avenue to the timeless elegance of the Champs-Élysées.

For me, Botero’s art has been a constant companion—a lifelong love affair with form and color.

Every time I return to Bogotá, my soul craves a visit to the Botero Museum. It isn't just a stop on an itinerary; it’s a pilgrimage. Walking through those halls, you are surrounded by over a hundred of Botero's personal masterpieces, nestled alongside the spirits of legends like Picasso, Monet, and Dalí. It is a gift to the public from the Banco de la República, and standing among such beauty is a transformative experience.

Please, go. Let the art move you. You won’t just see it—you’ll feel it.

El Gato del Rio

El Gato del Río

If you’re looking for the purr-fect riverside stroll in Cali, Colombia, you have to check out the banks of the Cali River. What started as a single, generous donation by legendary local painter and sculptor Hernando Tejada has transformed into one of the city's most beloved landmarks.

Originally inaugurated on July 3, 1996, the centerpiece is El Gato del Río (The River Cat), a massive, three-ton bronze masterpiece that stands as a symbol of the city's creative spirit.

But the story doesn't end with one bronze feline. Fast-forward to today, and "The River Cat" isn't lonely anymore—he's surrounded by "the cats of the river" (las novias del gato). This open-air gallery now features a colorful parade of smaller cat sculptures, each uniquely decorated by different artists. It’s a must-visit spot for art lovers and anyone wanting to experience the whimsical side of Cali’s culture.

y mas, muchos mas ..... gatos !

Cristo Rey

Cristo Rey (Christ the King) Statue

I’ll be the first to admit I have no love for organized religion, but this? This was something else entirely. It hit me in a way I didn't think was possible—completely breathtaking and profoundly moving.

Leños y Carbon

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about travel, it’s that when you find a gem, you stick with it. Years ago, I stumbled upon Leños y Carbón in Panama—think sizzling, wood-fired steaks that taste like a million bucks but cost less than a taxi ride. Fast forward to my Colombia trip, and I was on a mission to track them down again.

I’ll be honest: I ate here a lot. I tried a few different cuts, but I always found myself circling back to the 'Lomito Tierno' (tenderloin). It was incredibly tender, flavorful, and—in true Leños fashion—a massive portion.

The best part? You can get a huge plate with steak, rice, salad, a potato, and a Pepsi all for about $12 USD. It is hands-down the best value for a serious meal in the city. I realized too late that I should have been snapping photos from day one, but I was too busy digging in! If you're in Colombia and want to eat like royalty on a budget, this is your spot.

Ilocos Norte, Philippines

This trip to the Philippines was supposed to be a reset—no maps, no "must-sees," no chasing the new. But the road always has a funny way of intervening. Sometimes, you don’t find the place; the place finds you.

I’m currently sitting on a beach so desolate it feels like a secret the world forgot to keep. My brain wants to solve the puzzle: Why isn't everyone here? I could probably guess—the bumpy roads, the lack of signal, the sheer distance from the "influencer" circuit.

But then, the wind picks up, the turquoise water hits the shore, and the questions just... stop.

In a world obsessed with the "next big thing," there is a rare, quiet power in finding a place that is simply enough. No beach clubs, no crowds, no noise. Just an outrageously, almost impossibly beautiful stretch of sand that demands nothing from you but your presence.

It’s pure. It’s raw. It’s a reminder that sometimes the best thing to do is absolutely nothing at all.

and 21 Years later..... The stories continue....

The dust-caked box in the back of my closet held more than just old documents; it held ghosts. Digging through it last week, I pulled out two faded passports, their covers brittle with age. I sat there on the floor, flipping through the stamps, but the rhythm of the pages faltered when I hit April 1993. The ink was dry, but the memory still felt damp.

Nothing in my world could have prepared me for Manila. I look back now and wonder if I was really that green, or if the city was just that teeth-rattlingly raw. I suspect it was both.

The air inside the terminal didn’t just sit there; it lunged. It was thick with the heavy, sour scent of mold—the kind of smell that feels like it’s trying to tell you a secret you don’t want to hear. The light was a dying breed, too. A few lonely incandescent bulbs swung from the high, cavernous ceiling, casting long, jittery shadows that made the whole place feel like a fever dream.

Then the doors opened, and the world came for me.

I’ve never been physically besieged like that before or since. It was a sea of desperate energy—hands grabbing at my sleeves, voices rising in a jagged chorus of shouts, a sensory ambush that left no room to breathe. Panic started to crawl up my throat. I stood there, a ghost with a suitcase, realizing I had no hotel, no local currency, and no plan. All that mattered was the mob and the heat.

Fast forward thirty years, and the shadows have been chased away. The modern terminal is all glass, bright lights, and sterile air—no mold, no chaos, no grasping hands. My wallet is heavy with pesos and my reservation is locked in.

This week, I’m stepping back into the heat of the city I once feared, but the air feels different now. I’m going back to the place I call my second home.

BTW, Manila's NAIA Airport Terminal 1 is still standing.  It's been upgraded several times, but still ranks high as the World's worst airport.

2013 Christmas Cards from 54641

For those that received Christmas Cards from me, one of these may look familiar?  The real story here is where they were mailed from.  Wait, not just where they were mailed from, but where they were "postmarked".

Deep in the 54641 zip code lies Mather—a tiny, unincorporated speck of Wisconsin soul where the "rush hour" consists of a single tractor and the population (a mighty 52 souls) could comfortably fit in a high school cafeteria. Spread across 10 square miles of quiet countryside, this isn't just a town; it’s a masterclass in slow travel.

The Smallest Post Office in America?
The local Post Office operates on a schedule that would make a big-city CEO weep. It’s open for just two hours a day—dropping to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it 90 minutes on Saturdays. If you’re looking for the ultimate off-the-beaten-path experience, timing your arrival here is the ultimate traveler’s challenge.

A Christmas Miracle (and a Phone Call or Two)
I walked in with a stack of Christmas cards and a dream of an old-school "hand-cancel" postmark. The Postmistress, looking genuinely thrilled to see a fresh face, admitted it had been years since she’d hand-stamped a letter. After a few "mission control" phone calls to double-check the rules, she got the green light.

There’s something incredibly soulful about watching a piece of mail get personalized by hand in a place time forgot. I might have been her only entertainment for the day, but that small-town connection was the best souvenir I could have asked for.

---

Mather by the Numbers

• Population: 52
• Square Miles: 10
• The Golden Window: 2 hours/day (Weekdays) | 1.5 hours (Saturdays)
• Must-Do: Ask for a hand-cancel—it’s a rare piece of postal history!

BTW, the first two pictures used in my Christmas Cards were taken at my Mother's house located just outside Mather.  The fireplace (no explanation needed) and the second photo is of the Christmas tree with the a red Philippine Parol that I brought back several years ago from the Philippines.

Merry Christmas from 54641

Not quite Food Heaven but close .....

Many of you are aware of my interest in the food truck industry. After following one particular vendor’s journey via social media for the past four years, I finally had the opportunity to visit them this past weekend. The experience exceeded my high expectations, which had been building across more than 1,200 digital interactions and menu updates leading up to the event.

Señor Sisig

They describe their truck as "Señor Sisig is a Filipino Fusion Food Truck located in the San Francisco Bay Area".  It is nothing short of phenomenal.  I knew that their burrito was going to be great (because the 15 people in front of me ordered it) so I decided to try the pork sisig salad instead.  Those who know my eating habits know that I am NOT a salad person, but the "tweet" that lead me to this event included a picture (of THE salad) and it looked simply delicious.

(This was supposed to be where I inserted a picture of the salad)

That pork sisig salad was that good. Honestly, I had to physically restrain myself from licking the bowl clean—only my last shred of social dignity kept me from becoming a human vacuum. I’m fully aware there were a few stray morsels of smoky, crispy pork, cheese, and crunchy lettuce left behind, mocking me from the bottom of the dish, but believe me when I say I fought for every last crumb.

Every bite was a total flavor bomb that left me wishing for a second stomach. 

• appetizing
• delectable
• delightful
• exquisite
• heavenly
• luscious
• savory
• tasty
• tempting
• yummy
• divine
• lush
• ambrosial
• delish
• fit for king
• gratifying
• mouthwatering
• sapid
• scrumptious
• titillating
• toothsome
• masarap

So the next time you are in the Bay Area, DO go and check out Señor Sisig.  I promise you will enjoy it just as much as I did.  And don't forget that everything tastes better with a cold bottle of Sarsi.

A couple final thoughts.... Señor Sisig does everything right. They are very into Social Media (absolute must for 2013). You can find them on all of the popular Social Media outlets: Facebook, Twitter, Yelp, Instagram and Youtube. Their website is simple yet concise, very mobile friendly and you can always geo locate them (critical for a mobile food truck).  It is no wonder they have a cult-like following and were voted as SF Weekly's Best Food Truck 2013.  Besides, their food is just damn super sarap !

(OK, I couldn't leave you wanting and not post the photo)