It’s Sunday. It’s late. And I’m hungry.
Fortunately this city is one that seemingly doesn’t sleep. People are out until at least 2am every day. A schedule that’s amenable to the type of lifestyle that I’m most comfortable in. The night-dwelling, nocturnal, degenerate type.
I write this from a parilla in the Palermo neighborhood of Buenos Aires. Sipping on a glass of red wine, presumably a Malbec, patiently awaiting my mollecas and asado.
While most sane individuals flee to European summers, Steph and I decided to start our journey in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s fall down here, but soon to be winter. Some trees cling to their leaves, but most are found beneath your feet.
I wasn’t sure how to start this part of the journey for The Daily Grog, which is probably why we’ve been down here over a week already and I haven’t written a thing. I’ve struggled with my relationship with social media for a while now – it has never come natural to me, but it feels like a necessary part of my existence at this point.
It did, however, feel natural to write about our trip.
Since The Daily Grog’s inception it has followed in many footsteps of the archetypical travel blog – city guides, “best of,” lists, and travel tips you could likely find on someone else’s website. And while I still think my recommendations are better than most you’ll find, I’m still longing for something a bit different. Something outside of search engines, clickbait titles, or any optimization.
If anything this is a place where I can write about travel, the world, and my place in it. A place to cobble together the pipings in my head. Perhaps most importantly, a place of catharsis.
So there it is, the first postcard entry from The Daily Grog. Personally I’d like to think of this as a response to today’s social media – an attempt to preserve some weird corner of the internet. A pièce de résistance, if you will.