the city of islands: death by tourism?

Venezia is a city composed of tiny islands. 120 of them, spanned by 400 bridges. Wooden or stone, humble or showy, everywhere bridges. Every time you cross a bridge you step onto a new island.  Long ago, these borders determined micro-communities, islands like tribes. People didn't know their neighbors across the water. The communities were …

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travel notebook: (not so) alone in italia, day three

I'd rather not think about how little sleep I've gotten in the last few days. But as my lids lower–once again–of their own volition, it's getting hard to ignore. I've been turning in at a decent hour, but like a little girl stuck in the cheerful purgatory of the night before Christmas, I've been finding …

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sweet serendipity in the eagle’s nest of the côte d’azur

My quietly spontaneous trip to Èze would morph into a fun, frenzied journey to three different cities (one of them a country, if we're being specific). We would be climbing up a hill to a pink mansion, running to catch trains, eating gelato in Monaco, and falling asleep over a late dinner of pizza. I wouldn't get home until after midnight. But of course, I didn't know any of that yet.

attention abeilles: hiking the massif de l’esterel

The best thing about waking up in the morning–or returning to my petit chez moi at any time of day–is the view from my balcony: the brilliant bay outlined by mountains. I come from the part of Missouri that's just barely not-Kansas. Deprived of elevation for so long, any hint of it makes me giddy. Mountains comfort …

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la culture populaire for the couch potato: lessons in french tv

I can't stand advertisements. I don't like being told what to tell my doctor. I roll my eyes at deus ex machina plot lines and groan at laugh tracks. I am a TV cynic. It's nothing noble. It's just that I would really really really rather read. I am grateful that my parents encouraged the …

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