Category: Travelouge

Louisville in Winter

I dreamt about snow. A dense, wind-blown drift, pushing in through two doors on opposite walls of my garage home. A father and son in snow gear staggered through one of the doors to help me move the snow. I was shocked – turned my back for one second and all frozen hell broke loose. All of my garage crap,…

Antibes – Riding the Green Demon

A low, dark doorway in an Antibes alley opens onto a set of winding stairs that spiral down into a barrel-shaped room. Small tables are crammed together next to overflowing hat racks. Visitors chatter contentedly as the cave matron slices through the crowd, doling out silver, spigotted reservoirs. This is where you go to sample the green demon. Absinthe! We’d…

Stresa – On a Magic Gondola Ride

Stresa had a gondola, a rickety, steel contraption, dark green, existing solely to carry pale European tourists from the shoreline of Lake Maggiore to the peak of mount whatever. Looking back, I can only marvel that we ever discovered the damn thing. Stresa was not a particularly big town and only moderately touristy. Plenty of appealing restaurants with open-air seating…

Corniglia – In the Land of Facebook Album Covers

The local train between the villages of Cinque Terre travels primarily through dark tunnels, so it’s a pleasant surprise when the Corniglia station is in the bright sunlight, not twenty feet from the gentle, tempting waves of the Mediterranean. However, it’s also 200 feet below the town itself. We heft our dense packs and follow a pair of beautiful, questionably…

Genoa – It Was Genoa

Genoa was seedy. And not hip seedy, the kind of place where men in skinny jeans play digital music for models in refurbished warehouses. Genoa was like, pre-that. So, pre-refurbished warehouses. Still fully furbished. Which I assume means “covered in grime.” Imagine a big city and add a grey filter. Great, you’re picturing Genoa. It was probably the only time…

Chamonix – The Spa

There’s getting wet. And then there’s getting wet in the spa at l’Heliopic. Allow the stunning spa attendant to provide you with a freshly fluffed towel and pair of cozy plush slippers. Make use of the extensive locker room to divulge yourself of worldly possessions. In this Poseidon’s garden, you won’t be needing technology. Just a swimsuit, a body, and…

Antibes – Eating Mussels

Before eating mussels in Europe, you need to make your peace with God. A short prayer will do, or perhaps a joyous fist bump because these muhfuckin mussels are gonna be some heavenly goddamn shit. Don’t even get me started. They’ve got two sauces, white and the other one. White is like, garlic or something. Garlic and white wine. It’s…