I thought Santa Fe was beautiful. Rand had been wanting to visit for years, had built it up in his mind so much that he had already asked me if I wanted to move there before we’d even set foot on the ground. He’d idealized so much that reality had trouble living up to what…
I’ve been reading the news coming out of Turkey through the haze of jet lag, trying to piece together the intricacies of the story while half asleep. I usually take a while to write about the places that we’ve traveled to (mostly out of laziness, but I will tell you the delay is due to…
We went to Turkey with our friends and their toddler. This seems impossible now, six short months later. I suspect it will seem even more impossible in the coming years. But we went from Istanbul to Cappadocia, and he wandered in the dust and the sunshine. And he tried to eat my husband’s nose. I…
Rand and I talked about going to the Women’s March in D.C. – we rolled the idea around in our heads, but realized that we’d already be in New York that weekend, and attending the march there seemed like enough. He and I were both fighting colds, and I told him that we could…
So, wait, you’re a travel writer? Well, kind of. I mean, I travel a lot and I write about it, but I don’t know if my blog is actually useful for- That sounds amazing. Yeah, it’s pretty fun … Honestly, sometimes I think it’s wasted on me. I get motion sickness and I’m sort…
“Dear god,” I told him when I saw the photo. “I look positively predatory.” Rand laughed. “You do,” he agreed. “You look like you are hunting me.”
I liked it. A lot. More than I thought I would. I get ideas about cities. I know, I know – that’s wrong. You shouldn’t formulate an opinion about a place before you’ve even visited. My favorite show right now is called Scrotal Recall. That revelation alone means that I should know better than to…
My endless fascination with two people taking photos at the same time continues. In Ireland, as I was snapping photos, Wil was doing the same (albeit more competently, with an eye for composition and light and all those other things that photographers understand and I do not). Here’s my photo, taken on the side of…
Durham felt familiar somehow. Neither of us had ever been there before, but the streets weren’t foreign to us. When the light of the setting sun hit a row of brick buildings it felt like a memory, like a painting by Hopper I’d seen long ago and forgotten about. Rand made me run to catch the…
