LA Blogger Traveling in Style
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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If you’ve ever read any of my blog posts or thumbed through my Instagram feed, you probably already know this: I love art. That’s partially because I grew up fully immersed in the works of the old masters (but that’s another topic for another post), but also because art — if you don’t let it…
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The sun floods the sky with a deep, almost artificial mauve. The color seeps into the crevices of low-hanging, lumpy clouds — slowly, almost deliberately. If this sunset has an end time, it’s clearly in no hurry to reach it. We’re enjoying this, of course. What a better time for nature to threaten to dazzle…
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I’ll be honest. I went into 2021 with a lot of enthusiasm — the possibilities of a vaccine, a change in government, a chance at a normal life. Though all of these things are still well underway, it seems like the sight of still-climbing COVID-19 cases are enough to yo-yo me back down to…
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*Writer’s note: My trip to Vegas happened back in November of 2020, before the recent travel restrictions and dramatic surges in COVID-19 cases. We don’t run into anyone. No hapless tourists in baggy cargo shorts leaving their rooms to test their luck with the slot machines. No boisterous laughter echoing off the walls. Just the…
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Preserving this imperiled piece of history isn’t easy. What was once Amboy’s blessing — its remote location, which made it an oasis for travelers needing to make a pit stop for some gas and a bite — has become its curse.
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No one knows how the lion-dog traveled to the Mojave Desert, or who brought it there. No one knows why, for a few months, she disappeared and came back again. And yet, there she stands at six foot tall, one paw patting the head of her cub. Her tooth is chipped, knocked off by a bullet from when a traveler thought it a target and shot up the statue with a high-powered gun.
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I feel a chill cross my back, as I climb the floral carpeted staircase to the third floor. I feel another one as I cross a sitting area and make a left into the hotel’s corridor. The hallway is dim. The dark, burgundy walls are illuminated by tired daylight shining through the window of what seems like a little reading nook. (It’s the perfect weather outside for something like this — gray, damp, dreary.) Under my foot, the floor sinks and creaks with every step I take, breaking the silence. Squeak, croak, pop.
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Above ground, the October sun is at its zenith, and the mercury hovers in the mid-90s in what feels like an endless epilogue of an exhaustingly hot summer. Down here, however, it’s 10 degrees cooler And that’s exactly why a man by the name of Baldassare Forestiere spent 40 years of life building this — this crazy, peculiar underground complex of patios, grottoes and gardens, all connected through passageways he dug by himself.
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