By popular demand, here are a few more scenes from St. Albans. (Tomorrow we’ll talk about South Africa and the Kloof some more. And then I’ll go back even further, to our Australia trip, and then … I have a lot to cover, folks. A lot. This blog NEVER ENDS. It is forever unfinished. It…
– 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…
Words are funny little things. I know, because I spend most of my days wrestling with them, trying to manipulate them into what I want them to be, often to no avail. Have you ever tried chiseling someone’s likeness in a a hunk of jell-o? It’s something like that. But I love them, and I…
For years, The British Museum in London was like a book I’ve cracked open a dozen times, but was never able to get passed the first chapter. I knew its beginning pages almost by heart. The crowds in front of the Rosetta Stone are mentioned in the dedication. This little one-eyed bird made an appearance in…
– I visited Occupy London on an unseasonably warm and sunny day in late October. In a paradox that is no doubt indicative of who I am, I stopped off at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where the Occupy protesters were gathered, before heading off to Spitalfields (the famed shopping district).
There are some arguments that will consume you. They will take over your entire mind and body, so that you find yourself shaking with rage, unable to think of anything else. Your hands clench into fists, your teeth gnash together, and you are filled with anger and the conviction that DEAR GOD YOU ARE RIGHT…
I have something very important to tell you with regards to travel. It has absolutely nothing to do with what you should pack or where you should go. I have no insightful revelations about which airline seat to pick in order to avoid sitting next to a guy who obviously has TB. I always…
It’s the Fourth of July, and while I had told myself I would be taking the day off to get drunk and eat hot dogs, because that’s what our founding fathers would have wanted, I instead find myself thinking about what it means to be an American. How centuries ago we split from…
– The strangest thing happened to me that last time I was in London: I went to a museum dedicated to Britain’s role in WWII. And I liked it. I know – you’re thinking that you can’t have read that correctly. “She must have meant cupcakes,” you think. “Or possibly Jeff Goldblum. She just got…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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