Scott Fugit

As we completed introductions and I turned to go to our room, the ornate crystal chandelier caught me just above the left eyebrow. Both my hat and luggage hit the floor as I struggled to steady the shaking light fixture. Our host looked on with a smiling, shocked expression. For the first time I heard...

“It sure doesn’t look like the brochure, I thought the condo was in a nicer neighborhood.” It’s a common refrain, the modern internet version of “a picture is worth a thousand words.” Shelley and Phil, two determined expat wannabe friends had been investigating a condo on the outskirts of Quito. They had all the information...

“Gringos!” I turned around and looked. She was behind us and across the street, dressed in a school uniform, mid-teens, surrounded by laughing friends – all girls. My wife and I were strolling on a Cuenca side street, not far from El Centro. “Gringos!” She yelled it again. This time louder. “What’s her problem?”Dee asked....

It was one of those rare conversations that starts innocently enough. As we waited at the crosswalk for traffic to zip past, I said something about the bicycle he was pushing. He immediately responded in English, having worked in the US for several years. We crossed the busy roundabout at Avenida Paraiso, heading west along...

By Scott Fugit Photos by Dee Fugit Original art by Terrilynn Dubreuil I am a tired explorer at the end of a long day. My legs are heavy after hours of investigating Cuenca’s narrow streets, busy markets, and endless craft shops. On the home stretch, we happened across a pathway vendor, his displays of necklaces...

By Scott Fugit “Jaime is a very safe driver,” Bill assured me – or was it Bob – as he pulled the napkin out from under his fourth margarita and scribbled down the name and number. “Sounds like a good contact. Thanks,” I said. It was our third driver recommendation since the party started. My...

By Scott Fugit All photos by Dee Fugit I always get nervous when I suddenly see flashing police lights, right on our bumper, at two in the morning. It’s natural. After all, I AM an American. Adding to the excitement, I’m with my anxious wife Dee, wedged into a taxi with all our luggage and...

By Scott Fugit Photos by Dee Fugit At first glance, I just knew the poor critter was dead. Laying in the street against the curb, three feet from speeding traffic, the curled up perro had seen its last sunrise. Longish red fur and a sizeable head indicated a possible chow mix. As I got closer,...

Text by Scott Fugit Photos by Dee Fugit There’s still something special about the old fashioned photograph. Although this is undeniably the video era, the attraction of a frozen instant in time cannot be denied. Of course, this is age related. We remember terms like f-stop, depth of field and composition. Still pictures also require...

By Scott Fugit It seems to be the strangest travel memories that stick. Maybe this is age related, or maybe it’s a subconscious choice. Supposedly, memory retention and recall are selective. That may be true. For myself, I just wish I knew who was doing the choosing. When it comes to traveling, useful information often...