Managing Partner at Dragonfly Capital. Effective Altruist. Airbnb, Earn.com (acquired by Coinbase) alum. Instructor @ Bradfield. Writer. Former poker pro. Donate 33% of my income to charity.
Yesterday morning I just left Ljubljana, where I was living for over a week. It has probably been my favorite city thus far. The people there are so friendly, the food is so great, the pace of life is just so relaxed and wonderful…There’s so much I could say about this place. But for once I’ll let the photos do the talking.
The hostel I was staying in, Hostel Celica, is a landmark of Metelkova. Metelkova used to be a military barracks during the war, and Celica was its prison. It has since been renovated by Slovenian artists, every cell containing a different design. This is the cell I slept in for several nights.
But yesterday morning I left Ljubljana. Today I just arrived in a town called Albi in the south of France. From there, my two hosts picked me up and drove me out to a little house in the countryside. In exchange for a room and three meals a day, I will be working on their farm for the next three weeks.
This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but a couple of weeks ago I decided to give it a try. I’ve never worked a real job before—I’ve been playing poker professionally since I was 16—and I’ve never lived out in the country. The nearest village is 10 kilometers away; the farm itself is over 50 acres. Over the next few weeks I imagine I will have a lot of time to reflect, to sweat, to write, and hopefully to brush up on some French while I’m at it.
It is quiet here.
I will write more—probably a lot more—about it next time. For now, I need to sleep…breakfast is at 8AM tomorrow morning. Grumble.
I used to have a running joke with my students. Whenever I would checkraise a flop against an opponent they would ask me, “Hey Dog, why are you checkraising here?” And I would always answer, “because fuck him, that’s why.” Halfhearted chuckles all around, and then I would explain the logic behind my checkraise. Well today somebody asked me why in the hell I’m working on a farm in Europe....
I’ve been procrastinating on writing this entry. At one point I started writing, but I found myself avoiding the very topic that I intended to write about. Actually, I could write a lot about the experiences I’ve had in Padua and Vicenze—about almost getting mugged when I came into Padua, about meeting a group of girls and joining their private graduation party, about a med student who tried to convince...