Traveling, Dave-style.

Hey, brother,

I know how your intimate knowledge of your own mortality and unreasonable fear of foreigners works against you exiting the borders of the good ol' U.S.A., but the other night, I had a truly Dave Tomke-esque travel experience.

I went out to meet the Brazilians I'd met earlier that day. They suggested I come meet them at their hostel for a few drinks. The name of said hostel was "Loki," so right away I had a good feeling about things.

First of all, the hostel itself if goddamn gigantic. I'm pretty sure it takes up damn near a city block. But, the bar in the hostel is what truly distinguishes it. Every night, the bartenders are different, as the hostel grants free room and board to any travelers who volunteer to tend bar for anywhere from one to seven nights (I believe there's an application process involved). But, the rules of the bar seem dependent on the bartenders that night. During my brief stay at Loki, the bartenders were pounding shots, grabbing random bar patrons (mostly women wearing short skirts) and having them dance up on the bar in front of me, and in once instance, vaulting over the bar to tackle some dude.

There were no rules, David. So, with a bit of bartending experience, you could come to Cusco and have the week of your life. Think about it.