Peak Oil. Wait, I mean Inverness and Barcelona

I’m almost at the 2 month mark, and it looks like I just passed the 6,000 unique visitors mark for this travel blog thing. Thanks for reading. Grazie, tag, gracias, chin chin, cheers, and whatnot.

Get a job

If this is the first time you’ve heard the words Peak and Oil together, it’s time you read this article.
Or go to this website.
Or read some of these books.

If this kind of hard truth is what gets you off (like it does me) read any of the books in this list. I can most faithfully recommend ‘Crosing the Rubicon’
I just finished a peak oil book, and it makes me very happy I’m travelling furiously right now. It’s going to be a different world when economic growth just doesn’t happen any more. It’s almost funny how little real work people do when compared to the heaps of muscle power we substitute with non-human energy like that in oil. The most work I do in one day for example is carry my tired body from one airport or train station to another.

I was just up in the Scottish highlands… but it wasn’t all rock-clinging goats and thistle trees the size of mountains… I was in Inverness, officially the adminstrative capitol of the Scottish Highlands. I arrive on a Saturday, and right outside my hostel door (Eastgate Backpackers hostel: incredible) was the weekend market. All sorts of everything… german bread, polish sausages, cheeses, meats, and produce of the freshest variety… a great welcoming party for the victim of a long bus ride from Edinburgh where I had a very dancey and late Friday night, but worked things out so I could get laundry done before my bus left. I’ll post my adventures in Inverness (and Loch Ness) when I have pictures because I wouldn’t want to just TELL you about the monster… you must see it with your own bloody eyes.’
Now I’m in Barcelona, but it’s only been a short while, so I can’t say much, except It’s exceedingly pleasant to understand what people are saying while at the same time feel very foreign. I said to myself after I asked for directions… “I remember you, Spanish… we parted ways in 11th grade. It’s nice to see you again.”

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