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Oot and aboot, havin’ a scoot

Being neither profound nor eloquent, “Holy sh*t” was all I could hear myself saying. Echoed back to me by my helmet visor over the sound of my bike’s engine being pushed near its limits. Rounding the bend on the coastal road, suddenly the view opened up as the sunny afternoon shone down on a breathtaking view of fishing boats and islands dotting the blue water of the bay. Nearly two…

48 Hours in Hanoi

After nineteen hours of travel, a stop in Singapore, and an estimation that I had peed in at least 5 time zones in a 24 hour span (certainly a personal best), I was in a daze as I stepped out of the Hanoi airport to catch the no. 86 bus into central Hanoi. I often find that people’s descriptions of places, especially first impressions, are rooted in hyperbole. Except Anthony…