One ciao is good, three is better
And don’t forget it’s three cheek kisses in Europe.
Tag Archives: travel
travel
Am I more than you bargained for yet?
It’s beautifully, flamboyantly cliché. Ricky Martin has a house on one of the wide, green-canopied avenues. His music plays here more than is merited.
The minotaurs aren’t real, the minotaurs aren’t real
He scrawls his number on a card. “You have trouble, you call me, Alexandra.” (The Greeks love my name.) “Just call,” he urges, eyes crinkling around the edges.
White Islands
Have I said this before? How wonderfully disorientating I find it to land in a foreign place after dark, not knowing what to expect when you wake the next day…
The luck of the Scottish
Long overdue tales of whisky and water from the Inner Hebrides.
The offices
“D’you speak English?”
I turn around. Before me is a stereotypical American guy, about the same age as my dad, in a baseball cap and an Italian soccer shirt. I’m really very tempted to retort with a gallic shrug and a, “Non, je ne parle pas l’angalais,” but I don’t. I’m very clearly reading an English book and what if we’re stuck in this line for the gallery for ages and I need to ask someone something and have to do it in French?
Oh, the tiger will love you. There is no sincerer love than the love of food.
A train to Tuscany, Neapolitan mermaid donuts, some mild self reflection.
The mysterious electromagnetic happenings in the night
I glance down. My boots are Timberland, fashioned of sturdy leather. However, they are apparently still embarrassing city-slicker footwear.
‘Oh… these are fine!’
‘You will get muddy. We will go other way.’
Chopstuck
By now it’s dark and I’ve begun to imagine what my new life in a Chinese refugee camp will be like. Will I learn the language? Might I fall in love? Will I finally learn to cook rice?
A short history of trains*
*Disclaimer: not much about trains in here at all.
An unsettlingly big place 