MicroJournal

Two more highlights from my Packing List. The Zanis TempBuddy USB-C thermometer and the BON Grooming Device.

European mantis came to say hello.

One would think that owning a record store, my ears would be filled with music when I walk. Nope.

Mostly, I listen to audiobooks and podcasts. On this trip I’ve gone with some old reliables:

Love + Radio. One of the few podcasts I’ve financially supported. The quality of their productions, the variety of topics, and the depth of their research are without peer, imo. The Guardian described it best: “The show always feels out of time and space, in and of its own world.”

99% Invisible. For my money, the most consistently great podcast there’s ever been. The current series, The History of the United States in 100 Objects is diverse and fascinating.

Tetragrammaton. I absolutely hate the advertisers on this show, but Rick Rubin is an interesting interviewer and he has some wonderful guests. I’ve been a fan of David Whyte since being introduced to him in 2017 on a blind date with a Lecturer from UCLA. Rubin has a two-parter with Whyte which is wonderful.

RadioLab. This podcast has gone downhill since its two main hosts left, but I do sometimes revisit old episodes. My two favorites are Memory and Forgetting and Corpse Demon. Fascinating stuff.

I did a very stupid thing today. I forgot that I’m almost 60. 10 years ago, a six- hour walk covering 23 km over moderate to rough terrain was something I did every couple days. I did it in Spain for three months when I was 50. Hell, I did it for five months in Vanuatu when I was 52. But today, at 58, this was brutal. I suppose one of the factors was the complete lack of shade on this hike. (A couple years ago, I also got diagnosed with arthritis in both knees.) It also doesn’t help that I choose to apply absurd rules to myself when I travel. For instance, never get in a car. This means that any time I want to take a hike like I did today with the Seven Hanging Valleys, I also have to walk to and from the hike, which added just over 10 km to the effort. Why I feel I need to put these restrictions on myself, I do not know. I do the same thing in my business life. Yes, it makes it more challenging, but when it starts to mess with your health, perhaps it’s time to reconsider.

I’m thinking tomorrow should be a rest day.

To give some perspective, I’m actually a pretty fast walker. When Google or Apple Maps tells me that it’ll take me an hour to get somewhere, it usually takes me 35 minutes. The ground on this hike was up and down and rocky and uneven. Hence, the much slower pace.

For the curious, the screen grab at the bottom of this post is from the app WorkOutdoors, which is an exceptional app for the Apple Watch

What does he eat and how big is he?

By far these are the questions I got asked most when I mentioned I’d be looking after a tortoise.

Baby T weighs about 12 pounds and he eats a mixture of greens (tortoises are vegetarian). Every once in a while he gets a treat of a mashed up strawberry. These are fed to him on slices of cucumber.

Found a secluded beach and took a swim.

Another highlight of something from my Packing List: the Huogantom Magnetic Airplane Phone Mount.

Carvoeiro flora. The figs and daisy are on my host's property. The pomegranates are on the neighbor's. Pampas grass is invasive but beautiful and found in patches on random walks.

My current Portugal trip clashes with two Toronto events that I’m sad to miss. Most disappointing will be my friend Wren Jones’s reading tonight at the Toronto International Festival of Authors. She will be reading her poem, which appears in the 2027 Best Canadian Poetry Anthology.

Tickets for the event are here.

An ear infection has been troubling me, so I visited a clinic today. Of course I have travel insurance, but I must pay upfront and they redeem me on the back end.

Cost of seeing the doctor was €80 and he provided three prescriptions which had a combined cost of €25. I took my first dose of the medications about two hours ago and feel better already.

Portugal is the fourth country in which I have sought minor medical attention. The service was efficient and affordable. Each time I’ve had to see a doctor outside of my home country, I dread a repeat of the service I received in the USA, which was unbelievably dreadful.

If anyone has a napkin, Baby T is ready for his closeup.

And a few from the seaside.

Did a 20,000 step walk today. Half at the ocean and half in the city. These are my favourite houses that I passed.

Before leaving for Portugal, I showed this site to my neighbor, the artist Alastair Martin, who commented on the domain name. Domain names are difficult, mostly because so few of them are still available to purchase. Most single words in every language (all of them?) have already been gobbled up. I remember searching for a domain name in 1994 for my web design company, one of the first in Canada. Even then, I couldn't find a single interesting but benign word that was available. I remember being particularly disappointed that Wombat.com was already gone. My girlfriend at the time suggested combining two unrelated words, and I settled on AlienTomato.com.

Poemagraphs is a word I made up and have used for years to describe my shorter written pieces, which I've never felt comfortable calling poems. For me, it was a portmanteau of poems and paragraphs. Another friend thought it was a combination of poems and photographs, and of course you'll find those here, too.

Once I've added a larger archive of the poemagraphs, paragraphs, and photographs, I'll properly include everything in the navigation. While on this trip, I'll just focus on this MicroJournal.

More houses from recent walks.

I'll highlight some of the interesting items from my Packing List.

Here's the Roam Ducky, the world's smallest universal power adapter.

When you ignore the GPS that tells you it’s a dead end, you find gems like this.

As the sun is setting, follow me over the wall to the left. It looks like private property, but I don’t believe it is, and since there’s no sign ...

I have a running belief that I am watched over by egrets and herons. I believe so, because in every country I’ve ever been, I see one within a few days of arriving. I landed in Portugal on Tuesday and saw my first egret today. And though the birds are native to every country I’ve ever been in, and I’m well acquainted with the concept of confirmation bias... Well, it's just more fun to believe in guardian angels.

Admittedly the photo is terrible as I was standing in the middle of a highway and my camera was completely zoomed in.

More from today

Walking just about anywhere in town, I'm overtaken by the same feeling I had in Spain: Toronto houses are boring.

I did this hike today, as well as the walk to and from the hike. Excellent workout.

↑ Drag across the elevation to travel the route. Drag/zoom the map; tap a pin or photo to open it.

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Baby T is having his breakfast.

Ruby says hello from Portugal. She's a nine year old pug.

11 pound 57 year old tortoise, Baby T

Some of the birds heard in the backyard this morning.

Waiting on the train to Tunes, where Lou, my host, will pick me up.

Sunrise at 37000 feet heading towards Lisbon.

I have finalized my Portugal Itinerary:

Fly into Lisbon the morning of October 20. Train to the Algarve that afternoon. Stay at Lou's place until December 16.

Train to Lisbon December 16 and stay in Airbnb in the Alfama neighborhood.

Return to Toronto December 20.

Surprisingly warm today. Did a 14km walk down around Lake Ontario. Lovely fall colors on the trees.

I’ve been a David Milch fan for decades. He’s one of my favorite writers and thinkers. About ten years ago, fearing his domain would fall into the hands of spammers or squatters, I bought davidmilch.com with the intention of building a free fan site. Of course, life got in the way and I never got around to it. Every couple of years, I'd reach out to one of his past collaborators (Jim Beaver, W. Earl Brown) about surrendering the domain to Milch, but I never heard anything back. (Milch himself is not on the internet and doesn't even own a computer).

In September, I managed to get in touch with Milch's daughter, Elizabeth. She said the family had hired a developer to build a site, so I donated the domain to them and the transfer was completed today. I’m really looking forward to seeing what they come up with.

I've been walking in High Park for many, many years. For 13 years, I did it daily. This is the first time I've seen a turkey here.

I built this site to keep track of my travels. While I’m on a trip, I’ll try to post daily updates. I’ll also be filling in earlier trips over time, using my journals, map data, and photo galleries, so those posts will appear sporadically. For now, there are big gaps in the timeline, but I’ll close them gradually.

The High Park Swimming Pool had its annual free for all for dogs. I never attended when Shakedown was alive as she didn't like being in water when other dogs were around. This year, I got in the pool with 60 or so unfamiliar dogs and 3 I know quite well. It was a bit of chaos but managed to get a few good shots.

Lovely katydid came to say hello.

Son of Gillan

This particular bird, a Great Blue Heron who I call Gillan, is one of my favorites, I photograph her often. Heron's rock!

Testing the Night Mode on Project Indigo. Not bad for handheld.

Jon Fosse is a Norwegian writer who seems to be having a bit of a day in the North American sun since winning the Nobel Prize a couple years back. He was already well-known outside of North America as he’s the most produced living playwright in Europe. So respected is he in his native land, the Norwegian government has granted him a lifetime stipend for his future output.

Fosse refers to himself as a writer of Mystical Realism (as opposed to Magical Realism). He’s probably most famous for, in many of his best-known works, a lack of full stops and the repetition of very simple language. Though Cormac McCarthy's use of punctuation was spare, it does not match Fosse's. For instance, there is not a single period to be found in Septology’s 700+ pages. His style compares to no other writer I’m familiar with and if forced to create some sort of analogy, I’d probably go to the hypnotic music of Philip Glass. You think it’s the same thing being repeated ad naseum until you allow yourself to be escorted by it and begin to feel the subtle differences make contact with you. It is an eye-opening revelation when it hits you. David Milch once said of this kind of realization: “Oh! This guy’s been fuckin' walking with me!,” though he was referring to Kierkegaard.

Let me illustrate the repetition with the opening of Boathouse, one of my favorite books by Fosse, written before he ditched the full stops:

I became aware of Fosse after reading Ruth Margalit’s review of Septology, with the most compelling bits being:

Fosse’s writing is bleak, impassive, mournful, circuitous, almost insistently inscrutable. It is also deeply spiritual — and not in the manner of Instagram-friendly New Age aphorisms. …

At times while reading the first two books of Septology, I walked around in a fugue-like state, wondering what it was that I was reading, exactly. A parable? A gospel? A novel bereft of the usual markings of plot, time, and character? The answer appeared to be all of the above, but although I usually balk at anything mystical, the effect was haunting and cumulative. …

Fosse’s interest[ed] in doubling: both the multitudes we each contain — all the roads not taken — and how we grow estranged from ourselves over time.

This doubling is all throughout his work — at least in everything I've read: Septology, Boathouse, Aliss at the Fire, Trilogy, Morning and Evening, A Shining, Vaim. I'm not talking about doppelgängers, but repeated names and characteristics existing both simultaneously and throughout time, many of the stories becoming ouroboroses of theme and language.

Again, my mind goes to David Milch, as it often does, as he is a firm believer in the connectedness of all things. Sort of a panpsychism but not that individual every-things have conscience, but that there is one conscience of which every thing is a part. I'm not religious but suspect such a belief disagrees with Fosse's Catholicism — though I'm happy to believe that both men are correct and that there is no conflict. (Mickey Newbury once asked:* "Did God make time to keep it all from happening at once?" and James Lee Burke has repeatedly said we're all "in a dream in the mind of God.")

Of course, I am reading Fosse in translation, mostly by Damien Searls — a man who learned Nynorsk (the language Fosse writes in) specifically to read Fosse. Some of the Fosse I’ve finished I haven’t read myself, but have had it read to me. The master narrator of his work is actor Kåre Conradi. Here he is reading the first half of the Boathouse excerpt above:

K Conradi reads Boathouse by Jon Fosse

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Try that for four and a half hours — or 28 in the case of the seven volumes that make up Septology! Fosse, especially as read by Conradi, has a way of burrowing into your conscience until, yes, he is walking with you.

I was interviewed by Running Man Press.

INTERVIEW: Lincoln Stewart & Toronto’s Word of Mouth Record Shop (Volver) | Running Man Press

Running Man PressRunning Man Press

Shakedown died today. We had 13 amazing years together and I believe she was about 2 when she came to live with me. I'll miss her greatly.

Finally was able to book an appt to get vaccinated. June 9 it is.

My stepfather, Daniel Clarence McKechnie, died today from complications due to Covid. Four months shy of his 100th birthday. Lockdown prevents a proper funeral, which is brutal. May he rest in peace.

I swear this dog is the only thing keeping me sane.

Turned 52 today.

A few weeks ago, Geoff and Lorraine offered me another three months in Vanuatu looking after their home and their dog, Vatu, just down the beach from Sal and John’s place. I would have loved to take it, but who knows how all this virus stuff is going to shake out?

So I’m back in Toronto. I feel like people aren’t taking Covid-19 seriously. I flew Vanuatu > Fiji > Los Angeles > Toronto, and only Fiji checked the temperatures of incoming visitors. Everywhere else was a shitshow.

Late. Exhausted. Heading to bed. I'm really going to miss that little country.

Spent the evening at Mali Beach with Scott and Tamara. Perfect night.

I'm responsible for 3 houses while Sal and John travel. This is the main one, where I've lived since arriving about a month ago and where I'll be until March, 2020. The properties on either side of me are not developed yet (Sal's brother owns one; some Australians bought the other) so it's pretty quiet.

Christmas Eve morning. The travel in Port Vila is mostly done by bus, which is essentially a bunch of independently owned and operated minivans or VW MicroBuses that have been retrofitted with bus seats. They're every where and you just flag them down. Due to the holiday, this was the busiest one I've been on.

This kid seemed fascinated with me so I asked his mother if I could take his picture.

Kava is a local drink made from the ground root of the kava plant, and it causes a calming feeling. It's on my list of things to try while I'm on Efate island.

Hermit crabs are everywhere. I'm calling this black one Darh Vader. For scale, those are grains of sand on its belly.

Two sweet Australian guests are here, Tamara and Scott, but I'm overwhelmed by melancholy today. This would normally be the time that my winter blues come in when I'm Toronto (or anywhere grey and cold for overlong).

I'm hoping the sunshine kicks its ass.

A local told me this boat had been deposited inland by the last cyclone. Since it avoided the road and is expensive to move, it's been left there. You can click the map pin in the sidebar to see how inland it is.

Signs in bislama. Any guesses?

Bislama is one of the official languages of Vanuatu. French and English are others. With 110 local languages and a population of around 300,000, Vanuatu has the highest language density in the world. Most locals speak at least three languages: Bislama, their local language, and either French, English, or both.

You can listen to Bislama here:

Sunday Best.

Honeymoon Beach was just a few minutes walk from Sal's, though it faces SE whereas Sal's faces SW.

John and Sal left for Australia to meet their grandchild and stay with their kids over Christmas.

Here's the view looking out my front door towards the beach. Just me, Coco the Dog, and Thing One and Thing Two (chickens) until March.

Homes of some ni-Vanuatu (locals).

Met some of Sal and John's friends over dinner. Our hosts were a couple from Amsterdam: Deb, an artist, and her partner, G. Two Kiwi brothers, Kieran and Brendan, were there as well. Terrific people all around. The food was extraordinary, as was the view across Deb's pool to Paradise Cove.

So you remember Flowers, the very good dog mom? She found me again and asked me to follow. Sal happened to be around and was up for an adventure, so she came too.

Flowers led us to the neighboring property, the abandoned Orem University, where she'd hidden her five pups under an old chapel. We gathered up all six of them and took them to the vet.

The vet was not so happy to see us. She sensed (correctly) that we were going to leave mom and pups for her to treat and find homes for. It was a weird situation: the dogs weren't ours, and vets and food ain't free. I was a fish out of water, culture-wise, but I slipped the vet some vatu on our way out.

So this very good girl wandered up while I was having lunch with John, Sal, and Geoff and Lorraine, two friends from down the beach. We had an instant connection. I have a natural instinct for naming dogs on first contact and as I lowered to her, I said, "Hey, Flowers, how you doing?", and gave her some good rubs. She flipped onto her back, and I could see she'd recently given birth.

John chided me a little for being friendly to an island dog. You don't want them coming around; it's not fair to the dog who actually lives on the property. I knew that, and made a mental note to keep my nature in check.

If you look closely, you'll see a lizard on the roof. This is why locals in countries with roof-dwelling critters put their coaster on top of their drink.

One of the residences of Orem University. The property is apparently abandoned and for sale. I hope to explore it at some point during my trip.

Sal and John's dog, Coco. A very island dog.

Flight one of three, totalling 28 hours of travel:

Toronto > Los Angeles
Los Angeles > Fiji
Fiji > Vanuatu

Broke up a dog fight yesterday and got chomped by a dog I've known for years who was absolutely losing it. Thankfully, didn't break the skin (much), but it's a helluva tender bruise.

Heading to the airport to return to Toronto. Finally captured a "locals on motorcycles" photo I'm happy with.

I've decided to take a trip over the winter of 2019/20.

I'll leave Cabarete and spend a couple of weeks in Toronto getting everything in order. Then, it's 28 hours of flights to the South Pacific archipelago nation of Vanuatu, where I'll stay until March. It'll be my longest journey yet – Melbourne was 22 and a half hours, if I remember correctly.

Technically, the Vanuatu visa limit for Canadians is three months, but a friend, Sallie, who's offered me lodging, says she can pull some strings with her contacts in Immigration. Neat trick if she can manage it. Otherwise I'l be back sometime in February.

Thankfully, temps will be a little cooler than the Dominican has been, but I shouldn't need to pack anything unusual. It'll be cyclone season there but I always pack Good Nature in my carry-on. I'll just have to bring enough to share with the locals.

The view from the penthouse veranda.

Morning game of chase with Lucky.

Not every day that you come across a scene like this walking down the beach to get breakfast. I'm guessing this'll be my favorite shot of the trip.

The motorcycle culture here is fascinating. The casualness; the lack of helmets; riding sidesaddle; transporting oversized items; multi-passenger (3 times I counted 5 on a bike!); infants...

When I was living in Oliva, Spain, I was told that the world champion kitesurfer was from my beach. Now I’m told that here, on the appropriately named Kite Beach, is where the North American champion calls home.

I count ten in the photo below:

There are small lizards and crabs everywhere.

While Gillian and Rodney are back in the UK, I'll be looking after Lucky, the indoor cat, and Outside and Oh No!, the two outdoor cats.

Gonna take my first trip to the Dominican Republican. Will spend the month of October on a beach in Cabarete. Friends Gillian and Rodney are letting me stay in their condo while they settle some affairs in their home in London.

Crashing at Buster and Lucy's place in Studio City for a few days. Always some nice houses around here.

Merry Christmas. Came across the kettle garden while out grabbing some groceries to make Sprouts 225* for Harley's annual party. Really looking forward to seeing everyone and catching up.

* Sprouts 225

Servings: 6
Prep: 10 min
Cook: 9 min

Ingredients

• 14 oz Brussels sprouts
• 4 tomatoes
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 red onion, thinly sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 fresh chili, thinly sliced
• 1 tbsp coriander seeds, crushed
• 1 tbsp fresh ginger, sliced
• 1 tbsp soy sauce

Directions

1. Chop the tomatoes in half, then into thickish slices.
2. Peel the outer leaves from the sprouts and slice the larger ones in half.
3. Bring a pot of water to a boil and drop the sprouts in for just half a minute before removing them.
4. Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a wide pan and add the sprouts and the red onion.
5. Cook over medium-high heat for two minutes, stirring, before adding the garlic, chili, coriander, and ginger.
6. After another two minutes, add the tomatoes and soy sauce, and cook on medium heat for five minutes more.
7. Add a splash of water if the dish seems to be drying out — it should be moist when finished.

I know a lot of people hate Santa Monica, Venice, and Los Angeles County. Over the last decade, I've lived here for three and a half years, all in spits and spurts.

Me – I love the food, the people, the weather... but most of all, I love the architecture, and the plants and trees. Toronto, my home city, is very drab, with so many of the homes being cubes of grey and beige. The variety of house-shapes and colors in LA is wonderful. I passed all these places on a single day's walk.

Chilling with Spooky in Woodland Hills.

Spoke with Anne Marie. She and Richard are gonna leave town for a bit so will crash at their place in Woodland Hills and look after Spooky. Looking forward to some hot tub time with a good book.

This gives me about another week or so in Harley's loft. I always enjoy my time here. He's been out of town and I'm sharing the place with the director, Noaz Deshe. Knowledgable guy. Just about fell off his chair when he realized I could discuss the work of Miklós Jancsó.

I believe Harley's table seats 30. I've been to numerous Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners here over the years. The food and company are always extraordinary. I generally bring Sprouts 225, which is always a hit and is easy to make.

The first time I came to Los Angeles, I befriended Alicia, my Airbnb host in Venice. We've been friends ever since. At the time, she lived near Lincoln and Rose, which was close enough to walk to the beach. During one of my walks, I stumbled into the Canals neighborhood. I now visit every time I return. Love the houses here, though the smaller ones, which once were prevalent, are rapidly being replaced.

Staying with Rolo and Bailey in Beverly Glen. Here are my favorite houses from some long walks.

Found myself walking in Sherman Oaks for the first time.

The Barcelona airport has a different vibe than most others.

Heading to LA for a bit. Gonna crash at a few different places: Rolo and Bailey's in Beverly Glen; Henry's in Mar Vista; Judd's in Venice; Harley's in DTLA; and maybe with Reese in Santa Monica.

Will do my best to catch up with Alicia, Scott, and Nirvan.

Love these windows in the Hotel Casa Fuster.