LA Blogger Traveling in Style
Money never being a concern, Mrs. Hill laid eyes on three-and-a-half acres on a hill and decided, then and there, to have a house built crowning the hill. Not just any house. She was very well-traveled, after all, and as many travelers often feel after traipsing around grand European castles, she was inspired — inspired enough to build her own.
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Often, when we think of the kinds of landscapes that travel writers and bloggers physically traverse and turn their minds to, we don’t necessarily think of unbustling small towns. But never much of a believer in the bigger-is-better argument, I was drawn to Sierra Madre — an under-the-radar city that’s been sitting quietly at the…
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I’m very much aware of my feet. The quiet lift of the heel, the bend of the knee, the extension of the toes and the clackety tap of shoe against ground. Following the serpentine path of the stone labyrinth, I take one step in front of the other, watching and listening to my feet. Tap,…
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By the time the first celebrity descended on the red carpet, it was around 2 a.m. in Cairo, where I lived with my mom for the better part of my life. I was already tucked away in bed in my sleepwear, but I was wide awake. We were waiting for the decade’s “it” celebrity to…
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In southwest Ireland, there’s a circular scenic drive that contours the Iveragh Peninsula, weaving through lush coastal landscapes and itty bitty rural seaside villages. It’s called the Ring of Kerry, and it’s an iconic trek in Ireland — an open secret boasting some incredible vistas and glimpses of diverse wildlife. Tourists from around the world…
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The desire to come to America ran river-deep into my soul. My sight was fixated on it like Neil Armstrong’s on the moon, and just like space, it was alien territory. Marvelous, but alien, harboring some familiarity but equal strangeness. The United States was something I saw all the time — in movies, music and…
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Just a few weeks ago, I was prowling the vegetable bins at a local grocery, carrying an assortment of products with one arm and trying to pry open a plastic produce bag with two dry fingers. (If you have ever tried to do this while wearing a mask and without licking your thumb first, you…
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A few weeks ago, I hunkered down on the couch, with a plate of washed and destemmed grapes and the remote control within reach. By my feet, my fluffball of a poodle sighed, perched like a cute little cherry on top of a swirl of blanket. In other words, it was an evening of endless…
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I remember the first time we met. It was the second day of fashion week in Los Angeles, and we’d been called over to stand in line and wait for our turn to interview one of the designers post-show. The hall of the automotive museum was buzzing with people discussing the looks they’d just seen…
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“I’m fine,” I tell Anton, but there’s a watery vulnerability in my voice which I’m sure he’s picked up on. Still, he asks me over and over. My response stays the same. It’s about as generic of an answer anyone could give, and at its core, when it’s not used passive-aggressively, it just means: I’m…
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