There’s this point in Odysseus’ quest when he lands on a shore the farthest point from home: the Underworld. Odysseus takes his sword and very, very carefully digs a…
Tag: <span>Paris</span>
I usually don’t expect travel to result in regret. Nostalgia, sure. A marrow-deep slurry of wistfulness that the Portuguese call saudade, absolutely. But regret? Not so much. Travel always somehow…
The day after Thanksgiving, those Parisians leaned tee-pees of wrapped Christmas trees against street corner newspaper stands, grocery market entrances, charcuterie doors, patisserie awnings. Christmas had arrived in Paris. Christmas…