Carlsbad

Nearly ten years ago, I left Interstate 5 in Carlsbad to capture the sun setting over the Pacific.

After a week on the road from Albuquerque and Santa Fe, I had developed a rather intimate relationship with a certain evil coffee empire and even devised my own "gangsta name", R.A. (while reserving "Raz" for more affectionate moments). Refuelled with a tall Americano, I was ready to drive down the last miles to San Diego. Very flattering, my friend Niclas once asked me how I can look so youthful. I answered him that the secret is strong coffee and lots of flying in coach.