Un preludio caribeño: My first lesson mix-up Back in 2014, I thought my Spanish was tight enough to handle anything Santo Domingo could throw at
Primera mirada: el guante que me abrió el barrio I still remember lugging my cracked Wilson glove through the tropical heat of Santo Domingo Norte
The Day My Vintage Guayabera Became an International Incident The saga began on a humid Tuesday in Medellín, the kind of afternoon when the mountains
La primera sala de espera: my wake-up call Ten years of life under the Caribbean sun of Santo Domingo can make you cocky about your
By James, a 33-year-old Brit who traded London drizzle for ten years of Caribbean sunshine and frequent Colombian wanderlust. From Mangú to Mantras: My First
From City Heat to Mountain Breeze: My First Ride in Jarabacoa I still remember the exact moment the rental guy in Jarabacoa tossed me a
I still remember the night I landed in Leticia, that sleepy Amazonian town where Colombia, Brazil, and Peru shake hands over the river. The plane’s
When the Caribbean Rain Wakes You Up Three years ago a 3 a.m. downpour rattled the old zinc sheets over my Santiago apartment so fiercely
I still remember the first time my tripod clicked open on the cobblestones of Cartagena’s Plaza de los Coches. The golden hour had just dissolved
By James, the wandering Brit who swapped Manchester drizzle for ten years of Dominican sunshine, infinite bachata playlists, and frequent escapes to Colombian mountains. Landing