“Stick your head through that wall,” I command a child. Seems right for this place. This place is a Roman amphitheater. Site of gladiatorial battles. This place is Arles, France. …
Tag: <span>France</span>
“And one does one do on the Fourteenth of July? Does one celebrate Bastille Day?” These are the opening lines from my favorite David Sedaris essay, “Jesus Shaves.” As a…
Back in 2008, Big Friend and I indulged in that ultimate luxury of vacations pre-baby: the Babymoon. Seriously, whoever came up with this whole Babymoon concept, Bless You! Since I’m…
I have a confession to make: I’m taking the easy way out with today’s post. I’m stealing some memories from my France 2006 travel journal rather than writing brand new…
Geraniums nodded in wrought iron window boxes. High heels tapped on cobblestones. Chocolate shavings curled atop decadent desserts. A gold-painted mime struck a pose and froze for ten, twenty, thirty,…
Baskets of spices arrayed in rich, rainbow tones. Thick tubes of sausages dangling from umbrella rafters. Rattan baskets pressed between arm and hip, bulging with selected produce. Olive oil vats…