Lost City of Z by David Grann

I just finished a fantastic book. It was called The Lost City of Z and it was written by David Grann.

The book is a biography, a history lesson, an adventure tale and a travelogue all rolled into one. Seeing as how I love all of these things, I was completely captivated by this book.

Plus, it was so well-written that it was just a joy to read. I lost myself for hours and can't thank the author enough for pursuing the trail of this story.

The book is about a man named Colonel Percy Fawcett, a British man who lived from 1867 to 1925 (presumably that is, no one knows for sure when he died).

Fawcett is an explorer obsessed with the idea that the Amazon rainforest is hiding a secret from the rest of the world: the remains of a long-lost civilization and its once glorious city now buried beneath tangles vines and jungle ruins.

Fawcett makes many trips into the Amazon seeking these ruins and eventually his obsession is the end of him.

If you'd like to read an excerpt from the book, a short section was published on GoNomad a while back.

The Lost City of Z reminded me of another great read that came out not so long ago -- The River of Doubt by Candice Millard.

In fact, one of the characters from River of Doubt makes a few appearances in The Lost City of Z.

Both are great books and I recommend them!

Collection of Urban Tree Photos

Emma Livingston is a British photographer who is living in Buenos Aires.

One of the photography collections on her web site features urban trees of Buenos Aires.

The "tree portraits" feature solitary trees amidst their concrete, brick and asphalt environments.

Some of them just seem so sad, but at the same time the pictures make you want to root (pun intended) for these trees. Grow, tree, grow!

Cabo Polonio Revisited

A while back, I got an email from a guy who had read an article of mine on GoNomad.

It was my story about my trip to Cabo Polonio, Uruguay.

The reader was contemplating heading there himself. While I had arrived there by bus, he wanted to know if I thought renting a car and driving there would be a doable option.

I told him yes, and we exchanged a few more notes about traveling in Uruguay, Cabo Polonio itself and beautiful, beautiful Buenos Aires just to the south.

Well, today I got another email from him. He made the trip to Cabo Polonio. He did rent a car and drive. The whole thing went off without a hitch.

And he also sent me a link to some of his photos. This one, in particular, touched me.

I took a picture of that exact same boat -- "La Nena" -- pulled up on the sand in the exact same spot!

Good to know the boat's still there and my work and words were able to direct yet another traveler to a great and totally unique place.

Anything Che Can Do I Can Do Better

The title for this entry, perhaps, isn't quite accurate. I can't perform radical, revolutionary, doctor-type moves. Nor do I want to.

However, while reading The Motorcycle Diaries, I did discover one thing I can hold over Che:

He took the train to Machu Picchu. I hiked four days through the Andes to get there.

That's me there in the picture, on the left-hand side, carrying all my gear.

My hiking partner was Alison, the very same friend with whom I now write Haiku By Two.

We made this trip back in 1998.

When people ask me to name the things I've accomplished in my life for which I'm most proud, this trip, this four-day hike, always tops the list. It was hard!

Che, with his notorious asthma, perhaps could not have followed this trail. But I did. And I would never give up the experience.

Here at the End of the World We Learn to Dance

Usually, I zip through books. This fall, though, I've been having trouble finding much time to read.

I was excited, therefore, at the prospect of the two-and-a-half hour flight from Minneapolis to Phoenix and then back again ... time to read!

So that I could feel more accomplished, I picked short novels. Ones I felt sure I could finish in the span of a flight and just a few hours more.

The book I read on my return home was called Here at the End of the World We Learn to Dance.

It was written by Lloyd Jones, a New Zealand author.

I picked up the book for a couple reasons:

1. Earlier this year I read Mr. Pip, another book penned by him, which was short-listed for the 2007 Booker Prize.

I tend to like Booker Prize winners, and I liked Mr. Pip. Jones was an author I'd never heard of before, so when I saw this other title, I figured I'd give it a go.

2. Also, this book, this Here at the End of the World book, partially takes place in Buenos Aires, a city I love.

It is a love story (and who doesn't like those?) about dancing the tango.

The book captured my attention right away as it starts in Chacarita Cemetery in Buenos Aires.

I'd been to Chacarita Cemetery myself. I'd toured it on my own years ago in an attempt to see just how far I could push the envelope as a solo traveler.

If I could trapse around a massive (and it is massive) cemetery by myself, my thinking went at the time, surely I could do just about anything.

One of my favorite Chacarita discoveries was the tomb of Carlos Gardel, the famous tango singer. That tomb gets mentioned in this book.

Now that I've reached the end of this book, however, I'm not too sure what I'd grade it as.

It certainly won't make my top 5 reading list for the year, and yet I read it to the end and enjoyed it.

Ultimately, though, I think it was my own obsession with Buenos Aires that pulled me through.

Broken Hearts and Buenos Aires

I just finished reading a book called The Buenos Aires Broken Hearts Club. The author's name is Jessica Morrison and her main character, Cassie, flees to the city of good airs after being fired, dumped and evicted from her Seattle life all in one day.

While the book is billed as fiction, the author says up front in her author's note that she went to Buenos Aires after a divorce and on more or less a broken heart. After reading it, it was very clear to me that the author had indeed spent time in the city.

I picked up the book because I, too, went to live in Buenos Aires when I had a broken heart. It was 1997 when I went and the city soothed me. Well, there's nothing really "soothing" about Buenos Aires. It's a massive, crowded, noisy, bright and caffeinated city. Perhaps it would be better if I said that Buenos Aires distracted me. It distracted me from my broken heart long enough for it to heal.

In the book, the main character gets to Buenos Aires and discovers an entire subculture of ex-pats nursing wounded hearts. Oddly enough, when I was there, I also forged my own little broken heart club.

My co-broken hearter was Ali. We taught English at the same language school in the city and became fast friends. She is my Buenos Aires soul mate and, after all these years, continues to be a dear friend. Here we are on our last night in the city together. We both went home the next day.

I remember posing for this picture. We planned the shot. It's taken in the middle of Avenida Corrientes. We wanted the lights, the obelisk and the subte (subway) in the background. And because Corrientes is one of the city's main arteries, the picture was taken quick-quick while traffic was lingering at a red light.

The book, while not a stellar piece of literature, kept my interest. I kept trying to figure out if I liked the book because it was well-written chic lit or if I liked it because it was set in Buenos Aires and somewhat mirrored my own experience in the city. I've decided I'm too biased to make that call.

But the book also got me wondering - about Buenos Aires, about broken-hearted travelers, about where they end up - and I wondered: Is it simply coincidence that this book reflects my own past or is Buenos Aires really some sort of haven for the lovelorn?

Were you ever broken hearted? Did you travel to escape the break up? Did it take you to Buenos Aires? Did the city heal you, too? Or did you end up some place else?

I want to know. Post me a comment.