Dear London, This is just kind of hurtful: – I mean, I realize that Scottish notes are easier to counterfeit and all, but really? You aren’t accepting them at all? What about if some adorable Scottish boy wants to ride public transportation and only has Scottish notes? DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU ARE DEPRIVING GOOD,…
There are locations and happenings that, in my mind, hold a sort of mythical status. They are things which I’ve long heard and read about, and if I am truly lucky, if my life is as truly charmed as I believe it to be, I am able to see them. The list is long and…
There’s a gentleman who plays guitar on the banks of the Thames, near the Tate Museum in London.
– I have given up trying to get to Patisserie Valerie, which everyone and their brother tells me is the best bakery/dessert chain in London. Maybe it is. I wouldn’t know. Every time I’ve tried to grab a seat at their shops, I’ve been treated like one of the following: a leper some sort of…
There are times when I feel like maybe I’m asking a little too much of the universe (“Give me an awesome husband, the opportunity to travel around the world, and lots of cupcakes, please. Also, I’d like to meet Jeff Goldblum.”) I try to keep it in check, I really do (notice I didn’t ask…
– I have a confession. It’s kind of a doozy. Are you ready? Here goes … I don’t love chocolate. Hey, where are you going? Hello… ? Wait … what is that? Is that a straight jacket? OH DEAR GOD WHY DO YOU HAVE A STRAIGHT-JACKET?
– I’m not a big shopper. Hold on just a sec, will you? My husband is reading over my shoulder, and has started laughing so hysterically at my opening sentence that I need to make sure he’s not gonna hyperventilate. Yeah, apparently, he’s fine. The jerk.
Recently, I saw my first Banksy. Despite all the trips I’ve taken to London, I’ve managed to miss the provocative street artist’s work. On more than one occasion I’ve walked right passed his creations, failing to notice them at all. That nearly happened again this time, owing to the steak and kidney pie that was…
When I am hungry while traveling, things go downhill very quickly. I become snappy and irritable and overly-sensitive. In a town like Munich, this can be problematic, because German isn’t exactly a delicate sounding language to begin with. Even when folks are being courteous (which they often are in Bavaria), I want to respond to them in one…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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