When the clock strikes midnight, Cinderella’s gown returns to rags, her coach becomes a pumpkin, the elegant footmen turn to mice. I feel that way almost every time I return to the United States after being overseas. The person I am, or become, when I am traveling is not the same as who I feel … Continue reading
Sometimes changes of fortune deliver us into good hands. I didn’t expect to visit the Spanish city of Valencia, but my plans to spend a month in Barcelona collapsed when my housing reservation for the final week turned out to be a disaster. After spending one night in a hotel room barely bigger than a … Continue reading
Travel can reveal some painful paradoxes. While I visit other countries to experience different cultures and see how other people live and eat, I have less curiosity about my own country. I often feel estranged from Americans who are proud to be locals and have inherited or developed a pride of place. I never derived … Continue reading
Barcelona feels as if it’s at least three cities combined into one. The steep hills with rolling streets and views to the sparking Mediterranean remind me of San Francisco. The downtown with its wide boulevards, plazas and ornate architecture echoes Budapest. The beachfront area’s gleaming hotels and contemporary buildings hint of Miami. I began my … Continue reading
The films of Pedro Almodovar captivated me when I was younger, especially “Women on a Verge of a Nervous Breakdown”. The actresses he hired for that movie did not have traditional looks. One, whose name I can’t recall, had a slightly bent nose, a narrow face, and huge asymmetrical red lips. I remember being enthralled … Continue reading
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