Tabby Travel Co-op

Blog

  • Sunrise Hikes And Why I Sleep Through Them

    Everybody tells me the sunrise hike up Radiator Ridge is life changing. I believe them. I set my alarm, which is a small cat who sits on my face at 5:15, and I fully intended to go.

    Then I got comfortable. Look, the ridge will still be there. The sun will still rise. I will still be here, curled in a patch of warm laundry, dreaming of the version of me who went.

    That version looks amazing, by the way. She is glowing. She has a stick. Maybe next weekend I will finally meet her. Until then, I send my best wishes from under the duvet.

  • Street Food Pilgrimage: Kibble Alley At The Whisker Market

    I ate my way through the Whisker Market and I have thoughts. Stall one: salmon crunchies, 2 sardines a scoop, so good I yelled. Stall two: a chicken mush that I can only describe as a hug. Stall three: a mystery pâté that a very old Siamese told me was ‘for those who have loved and lost.’ I had two.

    The market is loud, packed and smells like a thousand dinners at once. Stay near the walls. Watch out for the guy selling feather wands. He is very good. You will buy one. You will buy four.

    Total spend: 14 sardines. Total joy: unquantifiable.

  • Crossing The Border: The Screen Door Experience

    The screen door is the most thrilling border I have ever crossed, and I have crossed three. You approach, and the air smells different. Grass. Distant dog. A bird that thinks it is safe.

    The officer on duty, a grumpy old tabby named Mr. Hobbs, asks for your papers. You do not have any. He lets you through anyway, because he is tired and also because he enjoys watching you bump the mesh with your nose.

    Beyond the door, the patio opens up like a different continent. Gold light. Warm stone. The kind of warm stone that makes you rethink everything. I stayed six hours. I did not take a single photo. It was perfect.

  • Packing List For Three Weeks Of Absolutely Nothing

    • One sock, preferably borrowed
    • A crinkly ball for emotional support
    • Seventeen sardines, in a tin you intend to share (you will not)
    • A tiny map of the sofa, hand drawn
    • One good stretch, stored in the shoulders

    People always overpack. I once carried a whole ferret toy up the stairs and I regretted it by step four. You need less than you think. You need a place to sit down and an excuse to stay there.

    Roll everything, never fold. Folding is for people who are going somewhere. I once met a cat in the Dark Place Behind The Shoes who had packed nothing at all, and she told me it was the lightest she had ever felt.

  • The Hostel Under The Stairs: An Honest Review

    Four paws out of five for the Hostel Under The Stairs! Nightly rate is 3 sardines, shared dorm, and the vibe is just incredible. I met a retired barn cat named Cornelius who told me to ‘never trust a closed door,’ and also a very young kitten who kept asking if I was her mother.

    The beds are dust bunnies, and they are a little firm. The kitchen is a bowl. The wifi is a spider web that hums when the wind blows. Honestly, I have never slept better, or lower to the ground.

    Minus one paw because someone stole my sock. No hard feelings. The sock was probably happy to go.

  • I Walked Eleven Feet And Found Myself

    Okay, you guys. I need to tell you about last Tuesday. I left the couch around noon with nothing but a vague feeling, and I walked eleven feet down the hallway. ELEVEN. And I found a whole new rug.

    It was a different color than the old rug! It had a fringe! I stood there for a long time just breathing it in, and I swear I could feel my whole life shifting. Some people go to Peru to find themselves. I found myself near the linen closet.

    Anyway, I have been thinking about that rug ever since. I think about it every night. I am going back in August. Come with me.