San Francisco Chronicles, Part 2

San Francisco is a city where people are never more abroad than when they are at home. — Benjamin F. Taylor Our first day in San Francisco was pretty typical for us. Since I know how Tim likes to follow his nose, and since there were two things that I absolutely, positively wanted to see, I suggested that we do…

Guest Blogger: Alison Bell

A few months ago, this blogsite sponsored a travel writing contest for professional travel writers. Thanks to all who entered . . . we received some really nice pieces of writing about places all around the world. But the winner, hands down, was Alison Bell, who writes here of her trip to Kenya. Thanks, Alison! Your copy of Up at…

San Francisco Chronicles, Part I

San Francisco is 49 square miles surrounded by reality. — Paul Kanter, Jefferson Airplane My mother absolutely adored San Francisco. Like so many before her, she claimed the City as her own. She and I lived there for only three months back in 1952, but somehow the experience never left — her or me — and I was a mere…

Gone Travelin’

All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence you know. — Ernest Hemingway As you read this, Tim and I are off on an adventure. We’ve gone to San Francisco to find Ferlinghetti at City Lights Bookstore and to the surrounding area to track down a branch of Tim’s family tree. Thanks to several…

The Art of Travel

Journeys are the midwives of thought. — Alain de Botton I have a wall full of travel books. Mostly, they’re books about all the places I’ve been: France, Belgium, the U.K., Vermont, New York, the Southeastern United States, and various and sundry parts of Italy. Some of them tell me about places I’m about to visit: California, for instance (next week),…

A (Travel/Writing) Proposal

Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don’t feel I should be doing something else. — Gloria Steinem Have you seen the movie Letters to Juliet yet? To be sure, it’s a silly, romantic, improbable little chick flick and I never would have gone to see it if it weren’t for that magical word “Verona” in…

A Home Along the Po

That’s what I like about traveling — you can sit down, maybe talk to someone interesting, see something beautiful, read a good book, and that’s enough to qualify as a good day. You do that at home and everyone thinks you’re a bum. — Richard Linklater and Kim Krizan I want to take you to a place. A place that…

A Little White (Wine) Lie

“Come quickly,  brothers . . . I am tasting stars.” — Dom Perignon Remember my piece a few weeks ago about our trip to Barboursville’s fabulous restaurant, Palladio? Well, I wasn’t exactly truthful. I told a little white lie. Just a tiny one. You see, while we did set out from Midlothian to go directly to Barboursville, we made a…

In the garden

A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself. — May Sarton Your first job is to prepare the soil. The best tool for this is your neighbor’s garden tiller. If your neighbor does not own a garden tiller, suggest that he buy one. — Dave Barry Early Rhodie Tim is the product…

Un po d’Italia in Virginia

You may have the universe if I may have Italy — Giuseppe Verdi I went to Italy last weekend and never crossed an ocean. I stayed right here in Virginia, and had an experience that I can only call magical. My sister-in-law was out from Utah to celebrate her birthday with her mother and brother (my husband, Tim). We hardly…

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FROM THE BLOG

Gabriele, the Dog, and the Genius

I just returned from leading a glorious tour up north in Italy, to Vicenza, the city of Palladio, and Venice, La Serenissima. In addition to having a blast with a return group of travelers — plus two new friends — I had some nice inspiration time on trains and in my room. Here’s the first story to emerge . . . LDJ   Gabriele, and his blonde spotted dog, 16 years old and nearly deaf and blind, walk slowly together in sestiere San Marco, looking curiously like brothers. Gabriele’s sandy grey ponytail and the dog’s floppy sandy ears move in time to the water in the canals being stirred by the pivoting gondolas in front of the Hard Rock Café.…

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