How does copious amounts of knowledge about a country before ever stepping foot into it impact the travel experience?
What the hell have I been doing?
Just like when you reach your hand out to a cat and they decide whether or not to come for a stroke, I took the same approach with LA.
I couldn’t physically keep the poles arched while also poking them into the ground.
He wanted to drink beer; I fancied hitchhiking to heaven with a blood sausage, so we headed to Brauerei Schumacher.
Given I often sleep in random people’s homes, I was slightly taken-aback yet honoured that my presence had such intrinsic value for the host.