Interiors and Exteriors of madman Ludwig II’s Neuschwanstein and Lindenhof Castles in Bavaria. Yes, these places exist.
Category Archives: Places
Empty Schells – Forlorn Images by Isaac Schell
I can so relate to these pics by West Philly-based photographer Isaac Schell. My favorites are the storefront churches, making the best of it.
Grand Central: Antigua, Guatemala
I love Central America. I’ve traveled through Honduras, El Salvador, Costa Rica, and parts of Nicaragua for weeks at a time, mesmerized by these half-Spaniards / half-Indians that carry some of the same DNA I do. There is something so magically forgotten about this little pocket of the world that is right under our noses.
My maternal family has a long history in Central America… My Uncle was Secretary of State in Honduras as well as the Honduran Ambassador to the UN, and is the current head Magistrate of the Central American International Court. My Grandmother was the reigning Miss Central America before her death. So I am always interested in exploring new parts of this little strip of land that connects the massive Americas, and me to a piece of my ancestry. Get the whole story
Road Trip: 127 Sale
Just returned from the legendary 127 Sale… a recap of the adventure HERE & pics after the jump…
THE DIXIE COP: 600 Miles of Yard Sales with My Six Year Old
Read my new article for the Huffington Post HERE.
Day 8: TANGIER TO CASABLANCA: MI CASA
Check out of Hotel Tangerina after obsessing over the coolest wall clock / calendar I have ever seen. Head to station to catch express to Casablanca. Haggle with taxi driver about the fare. He wants to charge us a 50dh flat fee (illegal) and we want him to use the meter. He reluctantly agrees and the ride is 18dh. Almost miss train but make it by the skin of our teeth after Cristina puts the guy who tried to cut her in line in his place (the wonders of cueing are lost on most Moroccans.)
Day 7: FEZ TO TANGIER… “CHAMPAGNE DAHHHLING???”
Wake up in Fez and go downstairs to tell the riad host that we’re headed to Tangier a day early. She tells me we have to pay for the duration of the stay because they “turned down other potential guests.” I look around at the half-empty riad and she reads my mind. (I forget haggling is a sport even in the most sophisticated of settings here) We agree on 1/3 of the unpaid night after some good natured back-and-forth…
We’re getting dangerously close to our budget limit now that we’re hitting the tail end of our trip. Think about how to cut back. Decide all food must go. Shopping and cocktails should be fine.
Day 6: FEZ… “WHAT WOULD MUSTAFA DO?”
Have leisurely lie-in and wake up at our beautiful riad at 9ish. After fab traditional Moroccan breakfast head into ancient Fez. The oldest living medieval city in the world, the Fez’s medina is a completely indecipherable labyrinth of covered passageways that make you feel like you’re walking around during the time of Mohammed. Turn down a slew of over-eager would-be guides (we were warned that even native Moroccans have a hard time navigating these alleyways) and decide to go it alone. Stumble into spectacular 14th century Koranic school adjacent one of the over 90 mosques in the old city.
Head deeper into the Medina and find amazing strands of tiny colored glass beads we decide to turn into necklaces. A little boy (10 or 11) attached himself to us and announces he will be our guide for the day. I shoo him off at first but he’s persistent. We decide we like his energy and let him be our little navigator. I think of my son Aidan back home – the same age – trying to escort tourists to make some cash for his family. Resolve to bring him back here and teach him a life lesson. Our guide makes his way around like only a kid who grew up running around these souks could. We’re snapping photos nonstop – this place is amazing! Then I notice something even more incredible. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cristina taking a photo of an old woman coming around a bend. As she snaps the picture I see our little Mustafa tuck a coin in her hand. Then I notice he’s been doing this the entire way, pulling coins out of his pocket and handing them out to the people we photograph. My heart dies.
Day 5: MARRAKECH TO FES… “YOUR OWN LENS”
Wake up to breakfast on the terrace and Chris getting us packed ready to go. Sad to be saying goodbye to our little home in Marrakech and our new friends, but excited to make our way to Fez. He warns us that Fez is much more conservative than Marrakech… While Marrakeck is a true African city, Fez is a wholly Arabic and very Islamic.
Day 4: MARRAKECH… “THE POCKET OF ZIMBABWE”
Wake up to awesome rooftop breakfast of fresh watermelon and prepare for our first traditional hamam treatment in our riad. Go downstairs to the impeccably restored 17th century marble and mosaic hamam, stripped down to nothing, and were laid down naked on warm wooden benches. Covered from head to toe in black Argan oil paste by bath woman who did not speak – English or anything else. Every inch of us scrubbed vigorously by hand with the roughest, most exfoliating mitt I’ve ever felt. Swore I lost a pound of skin. Rinsed off with beautiful copper bowlfulls of warm water poured ovr our heads from massive wooden buckets. Hair caked with desert clay and ENTIRE bodies coated with thick layer of Arabian herbs or “Les herbes de l’Arabe.” Left lying there for a few minutes before being placed in a fabulous marble shower where non-speaking scrubber rinsed our bodies until they were clean and unbelievably shiny. In an effort to capture the complete decadence of the moment, Cristina starts snapping photos of me in the marble shower. Scrubber is horrified but tries best to appear nonchalant. Not only do Muslims not believe in taking photos, but here is a crazed woman shooting a centerfold before her eyes. No doubt the topic of riad gossip for the next week.