Arc Magazine

I’m not afraid of swimming with sharks and know how to pick out a good French wine from the dodgy selection at the store. I know everyone everywhere, can live in a bikini and I’m immune to mosquito bites. But I’m still the American, not really a part of either culture, but sort of both floating somewhere out in ex-pat no-man’s land.

Sometimes it takes months and sometimes only a week or two, but eventually even the hardiest traveler breaks down. If you are guilty of any of the following, it might be time to unpack your bag and stay somewhere awhile:

Being from San Francisco, nothing makes me like a city more than a good gay pride event. I’ll only catch the first few days of Halifax Pride Week, the third biggest in Canada but lucked out by being here for one of its highlights: the Dykes Vs Divas softball game where butch lesbians are pitted against drag queens.

Everywhere you go there’s always that guy or lady who sits at the cafe in the middle of town and soaks up all the happenings. In tropical countries they tend to be more free range, perhaps with a beer along the beach, but they’re all the same person, the local character who you go to when you have a question about a place or want to hear some good local stories. In my travels I’ve met Rupununi Pat and Samui Steve among others. Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting Brier Island Bob.

Tahiti is riddled with waterfalls; drive along the coastal road and you’ll see literally hundreds of skinny chutes tumbling down the deep, steep valleys. A few cascades are found right on the roadside but getting to the more magical, isolated ones requires adventuring far off the beaten track and hiking up a river.