I worry way too much about what other people think. I see the look of skepticism on your brow, and it’s understandable. Most of my actions, eating habits, and every single outfit I’ve ever worn beg to differ. My behaviors are not those of a woman who is overly concerned with the opinions of…
I am writing today about our hotel. Because I needed a break from the Khmer Rouge before launching into our visit The Killing Fields. Because I am a huge, whiny wimp. The White Mansion Hotel in Phnom Penh is posh. It was by far the fanciest of the places at which we stayed during our trip.
We didn’t end up going to any touristy grottoes while in Italy – not the Blue Grotto in Capri (it was too cloudy), or the Grotto Smeraldino in Amalfi (not yet open for the season). At lot of people have told me we missed out mightily, and I nod and try to look sad,…
This was the interior dining room at the Hotel Santa Caterina. We ate breakfast here only once, when a light rain was falling.
And then we were in Amalfi. Okay, fine. It wasn’t exactly that simple. Before we reached the little city on the coast, there was a lot of driving involved, much of it taking place on narrow streets not built to accommodate two lanes of traffic (but this is Italy, and so: two lanes).
We needed a place to stay in Frigento. The home that my grandfather had bought my grandmother all those years ago didn’t have heat, so it was out of the question. We arrived just a few weeks before Easter, but even then, the house was still too chilly. I didn’t need much convincing on this…
I’m sorry for the lull in blogging, and the long delay in recounting the highlights of our Philly trip. I promise to get back to all of that tomorrow. Today, though, I wanted to tell you about something that happened during our weekend jaunt to California. Because I think the full force of it hasn’t…
The Lithia Springs Resort is imbued with a sort of Shakespearean vibe. –
– My first impression of Paris didn’t take hold until we got to our hotel. The cab ride was lost to a jet-lagged fog – no opinions or observations of the city would be forthcoming. I simply struggled to keep my head up so that the driver would think I was awake, and wouldn’t take…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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