Curated Fernweh
From the citadel of Victoria, you can see nearly the entire island of Gozo, Malta's smaller island. I thought this was a neat trick considering the fortified city is only about 400 feet above sea level. Fields already green in early March rippled across the landscape like so many inbound waves. Through notches in the distant hills, I could see slivers of the Med. It called to me. I texted back and said I'd be there soon.
Setenil is one of Andalucia's pueblos blancos, whitewashed towns that gleam like beacons in the desert. This one is unique because it began its life under the bedrock, where residents used natural caves to escape the punishing Andalucian sun and to age their wine. And I have a secret about how to best enjoy it...
Some uncommon things to do in Andalucia, Spain
Once, I went to a Van Gogh light show in Paris. Of course I've known Van Gogh's work since childhood, but this show turned all those familiar static pieces into brilliant illuminations that drifted and swam all around me as I sat spellbound on the floor. This is what the whole world looks like in the Faroes.
It was 10 below zero and I was bundled into a kicksled, propelled north along the sea ice by my obliging brother. Spectral waves of green aurora washed across the black sky above our heads, and the meter-thick ice creaked and groaned beneath us.
Nudging the spotlight towards places I think deserve some extra love.
My hot take on Europe's attention hogs.
What not to do as Americans in Europe: Christmas edition
The late-afternoon sun already touched the mountain behind me and I stood in shadow, but below me the entire eastern coast of the island blazed as a golden wave that flowed from my feet all the way down to the Atlantic.
A deep inhalation spurred by exertion brought crisp alpine air into my lungs, and I used it as fuel to continue on up the Via Alpina, a 2,000-kilometer-long hiking trail that curls from one end of the Alps to the other.
Lost up a valley in the southern Swiss Alps, a series of old shepherding villages stand frozen in time.
French Alsace’s medieval villages are an archipelago scattered across a sea of vineyards.
Picture spending a long weekend biking through the Dutch countryside when it’s absolutely blanketed in blooming tulip fields. You pause wherever you want along the route, maybe for a cappuccino at the seaside, or a family-farm-made gelato, or a thousand photos of hypersaturated blooms that nestle right up against the bike path. Horses and ducks wander over to see what you’re up to. Squat wooden windmills wave cheerily at you from a distance.
Once upon a time I rarely took guided tours since I tend to be both a cheapskate and a lone-wolf wanderer. Then I realized that the most foolproof way to get locals to hang out with me is to pay them to do so. Talk about subversion of the captive audience!
I confess I’m a bona-fide Potterhead. I have the Deathly Hallows tattooed on my back and have taken more Sorting Hat quizzes than I know what to do with (Raven-puff, for the record, since I’m nerdy and miscellaneous). I’ve been to the Leavesden studio tour near London and the Universal Studios theme park in Florida.... Continue Reading →
As evidenced by my illustrious undergrad career, I do not need any help with drinking whisk[e]y. My sophistication, on the other hand, is always in dire need of a leg up. I’m one of those people who can tell you if wine is made from red or white grapes, or whether I like the taste... Continue Reading →
This time, I was in luck. Before I even boarded the tour minibus, the driver/guide Brian* offered me the copilot's seat right at the front and directly next to his. I accepted before he'd even finished explaining the footnote that my seat folded down to block the bus entrance so I'd always have to be... Continue Reading →
Or why being anywhere near Copenhagen gives me anxiety.
Somehow, I knew what was going to happen from the moment I laid eyes on the ram, even though it all began innocently enough. He was just standing on a boulder above my head, facing away from me and chomping on some grass. His stringy wool was pitch black and it was falling off in... Continue Reading →
Dates of visit: July 5 - 11, 2021 On the third day, I made my peace with the salt. You could say it was only a matter of time, considering I’d arrived on the Mediterranean coast in the middle of a July heat wave, but given my history as a heat-phobic woman I’d say it’s... Continue Reading →
A travel guide and honorable mentions
Iceland is a country to be experienced outdoors. Bring layers, expect rain and wind, and you're good to go!
The Land of Fire and Ice, they call it, which could only be more fitting if they mentioned the rest of the elements too.
Where some people have hoarded toilet paper for comfort, I have hoarded unspent travel dreams.
True short tales of absurd things that have happened to me around the world
A series of abstracts on my favorite European places
The scent of fresh brine wafts in through the window, a seabird's cry carried upon its back. I crack an eyelid and see a patch of pre-dawn sky, curiously watching me back. Fragments of human conversation drift up from street level through the cool humid air. The words are too quiet for me to even... Continue Reading →
This is the fifth time I've moved to a foreign country. I've been an expat for almost four years, bouncing from country to country with whatever possessions will fit into two suitcases, trying to figure out the whole world by savoring disparate bits and pieces of it. I love it, but I'll admit that it... Continue Reading →
“Hold out the back of your hand, like this” the portly produce man tells me, showing me his fist with his fingers curled under. He picks up a small passionfruit with its top cut off: a tiny natural bowl filled to the brim with gelatinous seeds. He takes an appropriately tiny spoon and fishes out... Continue Reading →
Waiting in line to board the plane from Basel to Funchal, I suddenly found myself engulfed in a sea of Germans in peak physical condition. Their feet were clad in hiking boots and their were bodies covered in Jack Wolfskin adventure gear (which is Germany’s answer to Columbia or Carhartt). While “Wolfskin Germans” are something... Continue Reading →