Any question, on any aspect of Cuban life, will eventually bring you back to the basic fact of the Revolution.
Articles by this author:
“Hello, my name is Vladimir,’’ read the tag on a black terrier mix dozing inside the entrance of the Museum of Silverwork, near the Plaza de Armas.
I wanted to see the island one more time before the U.S. travel ban lifts, and my countrymen start pouring in. And they will – we will – because Cuba has always been a magnet for Yankee tourists and Yankee interests.
I was walking along a dirt lane in a tiny, touristy, log-cabin village on Olkhon Island, in the middle of Lake Baikal, when a cow took exception to my photo-taking.
Our itinerary had been set nearly a year in advance, but in the wet reality of rural Guatemala, it changed almost daily, depending on road conditions.
I like to say I knew them when. The catch is, I can’t prove it.
A week after getting home from the Civil War, I’m still not back to normal. I’m out of synch here — as if I forgot something, or left something behind.
The participants aren’t just “playing soldier,’’ as critics often say. As one of my comrades explained at Gettysburg 10 years ago, he re-enacts “because I want to honor my fallen.’’
The event is being widely commemorated, including in Minnesota.
My amazing encounter happened in the spring of 2006, at the Los Angeles Times Book Festival.
Halifax is focusing on the Titanic’s victims, 150 of whom rest in its soil.
What I mind is having one of my favorite books — “A Princess of Mars’’ — turned into “The First Blockbuster of the Year!’’
The Camino is never very far from my mind — the experience of walking it is that powerful — but it’s back on my mind because of an unusual pilgrims’ gathering coming up March 7.