Bring the Pain

In late April, just before I left for a non-working holiday in Peru with my wife, I ran an idea past her: "maybe I should just pitch this one little story?" She tends to like it when we have assignments to research on vacation, as long as they don't cramp our style too much. Which, given how obnoxious I am about turning over every last lead, they often tend to do. But Sarah was game.

When I wrote to my editor at the Globe and Mail's Travel section, her reply began, "This is such a bizarre pitch that I feel I must say yes."

What resulted is a piece that ran on the front page of the Globe's Travel section this past weekend, under the fabulous title "Bring the Pain." (Props to the page editor that came up with that one – I swear it was not I.) In the story, I zip around Lima eating ceviche:

The twist: I'm moderately allergic to citrus, and citrus juices are a pretty damn essential part of ceviche. But as much as lime juice makes me break out in welts, I'm even more allergic to not eating delicious things. You can understand the moral quandary this puts me in.

Spoiler alert: hedonism wins!