Torres Stories

When I was 9-years-old, I bought a beta fish with my allowance money and set up a small aquarium for my new little friend in my bedroom. Since this was the first pet I was allowed to name by myself, I spent a long time trying to come up with the perfect name for him. I finally decided on “Patagonia,” a place I had probably heard about in my social studies class or possibly in an issue of National Geographic lying around the house. I didn’t actually know anything about Patagonia – I’m not even sure I knew it was in South America – but the word “Patagonia” conjured up all kinds of romantic images of faraway exotic places in my little third-grader brain, and that was reason enough to name a fish for me. Twenty-four years later, I finally got to see the place that had inspired the name of my wispy little fish friend. Partly because of my childhood fascination with Patagonia and, more recently, because of the stories our friends Tanya & Eric and Courtney & Patrick and had told us about their adventures there, Patagonia was one of the few places that Dustin and I had resolved we had to see on this trip. When Dustin’s appendicitis struck in Spain and we seriously considered coming home early, more than anything it was the prospect of missing out on Patagonia that spurred us to keep going.

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Patagonia, Or How Lustin Got Their (Exercise) Groove Back

After a month of full English breakfasts in the UK, nearly two months of eating mostly pasta, pizzas (SO many pizzas), wine, and gelato in Italy, a month in Spain downing pinxtos and tapas left and right (they were so small!, but none of them seemed to incorporate anything resembling greens), and my unexpected hiatus from exercise due to a pesky appendectomy, Laura and I were starting to feel a bit soft in early December. Actually, that’s an understatement; we were starting to feel like the Pillsbury Doughboy, aka Poppin’ Fresh (which would be a great name for a rapper, by the way) and his portly but adorable wife (Mary Poppin’ Fresh?). Anyway, my point is: we needed some exercise, and we needed it bad. Atacama in northern Chile wasn’t the most active start to our two months in South America, and a week of wine tasting in Mendoza – which shockingly also involved some serious consumption of red meat – didn’t exactly scream “back on the exercise wagon”. It was time for some serious outdoor inspiration: hello, Patagonia!

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Last Night I Dreamt of San Pedro (de Atacama)

It’s hard to believe it, but Laura and I have finally arrived in the sixth and final continent on our year-long adventure! (Sorry Jayson, no trip to Antarctica for us this time.) We still can’t quite wrap our heads around the fact that we’ll be home in a couple of months, but I have to admit it’s been fun making plans to see our family and friends at home in late January. We’re not quite ready to think about the practical realities we’ll have to deal with when we get back back – getting resettled at home (including re-introducing Nutmeg to chilly San Francisco), buying (or borrowing… hint, hint) a car, updating billing addresses and dealing with the piles of mail our parents have held for us, collecting and unpacking all the crap we’ve shipped home this year (scattered across three states), finding jobs (yikes!) – but I think we’ll be ready for real life again once January 19th rolls around.

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España, Good On Ya

Now that our appendectomy adventure is over (I’m knocking on wood now because technically one of us still has an as-yet-ungangrenous appendix), we thought it was about time to write about the non-medical-emergency parts of our month-long tour of Spain, also known as the Country That Never Met a Part of the Pig It Didn’t Want to Eat. This is my first trip to Spain, and for all intents and purposes, it’s Dustin’s too. (He was here briefly a few years ago, but in what now appears to be a prophetic case of bad luck, he came down with the flu shortly after arriving and spent the entire time in his hotel room.)

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Guest Blogger: The Steps of Positano

Editors’ Note: This guest blogger thing is starting to become a habit, one that Laura and I are quite happy to encourage! Less work for us. :) As most of you know by now, we spent a week along the Amalfi Coast of Italy with my parents, Laura’s parents, her sister, and her uncle back in September. That’s eight people from three families… sounds like the setup for a cheesy 80’s sitcom. We had an amazing time exploring the coast, and my Mom was kind enough to write a bit about our week together. Thanks, Mom! We also have more photos from Italy to share, so be sure to check out our Positano, Pompeii, Amalfi Coast, and Capri photo albums. Ciao!

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It's the Cheese, Gromit!

Greetings from Scotland! In light of the fact that we’ve been wandering around the United Kingdom for last three weeks, we thought it might be time to do a proper update about our adventures here. Dustin is working on a short post about our week in London, so I’m going to focus on the road trip we’ve been on for the last couple of weeks.

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