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One of the most important things I learned on my trip is how big of a deal it is to be a good host—to be hospitable, to be giving of your time and energy and knowledge to a stranger who knows nothing. I, on my trip, was on the receiving end of these things, and when you travel 6000 miles to a country where you don’t speak the language, don’t quite know where to go or how to order the right thing, where to surf, or how to get to the next place you’re trying to go, a simple point in the right direction is meaningful in a way I think the person giving the direction can’t quite understand.
My brother, my inspirational brother, started a shuttle company for tourists in his own back yard in Big Sur, CA. We don’t always take so kindly to tourists back there, but Weston knew somehow that to satisfy a traveler’s desperation for knowledge and insight into his home—a place that people travel from around the globe to see—was a gift too good not to give. I don’t know how he figured this out, but I respect the hell out of him for it, and I plan on maintaining his legacy of generosity for people who visit and know nothing. Because of Weston, I will. 
I learned that to travel, the only way through is to get vulnerable. You kind of have to ask for help, a lot. And that can get old. It’s nice to know everything. That second hand knowledge of Home is priceless. In California, I know the shortcuts, I know the spots, I know the people, I know the deals, I know the times, I have the friends, and if you’re at home now or at a place that’s familiar, so do you. But there’s someone nearby who likely doesn’t, and your simple wisdom is their treasure and it really costs nothing to give. I have to work on this too. I  write like I have it figured out, and I don’t. I’m just inspired to put it out there more, as I Hope my brother would be proud of. Fuck, I miss him. But I think hospitality will keep his legacy alive.
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