I was planning on having a quietish year this year, and I didn’t take every travel opportunity I was offered for that reason. But I did still go a few places. Some I loved, some I hated, some I barely saw beyond the inside of my hotel room. Read more
Well, I couldn’t leave New Orleans without visiting the grave of Voodoo queen Marie Laveau, could I?
St. Louis No. 1 is the most famous graveyard in New Orleans, probably because she’s buried there. Nick Cage, despite still being alive, also has a grave there. Apparently he bought it after he visited a local voodoo practitioner for help with some life problems, and she told him he’d been cursed and would need to buy a plot in order for the curse to be lifted. Read more
I went to New Orleans for work a few weeks ago, and to my great surprise I didn’t like it at all. However there were lots of beautiful buildings, so even though I wasn’t having a good time I at least got to look at some pretty houses and take some nice pictures while I was there. Read more
I’ve been to Hurley House Hotel twice now, and both times I utterly loved it. The first time I went alone, having booked an impromptu weekend break when it got to halfway through Friday and I realised I just couldn’t deal with the thought of doing any more work. I arrived, spent the night in the comfy bed, showered under the waterfall shower in the morning, spent six hours in the luxurious bathtub draining the contents of the minibar, and had a Michelin-starred dinner before bed. On the Sunday morning I had a wonderful brunch in a beautiful dining room, and by the time I left I knew I’d be back.
Fast forward to my friend’s surprise hen do, for which we had to arrange six of us to get together somewhere, either for dinner or the night or both. Read more
“Where are you going next?”
“Providence, Rhode Island.”
With one exception, every person I said that to made a face that meant ‘ew, why would you want to go there?’
So I wasn’t expecting to like Providence, which was fine because I wasn’t planning to explore it. I’d be arriving late Saturday night and going straight to bed, then working until I got into a cab to go back to the airport on Wednesday afternoon. Work was a conference, and I was staying in the conference hotel, so I’d planned to just spend the whole time in that single building. Read more
I used to live in Oxfordshire, so I have several friends who still live in and around the city. I don’t see them as often as I’d like, so last week I got on the Oxford Tube and headed over there to catch up with one of them.
The friend in question lives on a canal boat, which is one of those things that seems romantic and lovely but is probably quite difficult in reality. A few of my Oxford friends live in boats moored along its waterways, and from time to time one of them will try to persuade me that I’d enjoy it too. But I grew up in a caravan and I know that life doesn’t often reflect romantic ideals. I have had quite enough experience of emptying my own toilet, and these days I much prefer being connected to the London sewer system. Read more
I’m cheating a bit with this post, because rather than giving you tips, I’m asking for them.
Help? Read more
If like me you have a bladder that’s about as strong as a very weak thing, going for a long walk can be a frustrating experience. I love walking, and I’m currently trying to build up my walking ability so that in a couple of years’ time I’ll be able to walk around the coastline of the UK. But it’s hard when I need to pee a minimum of once an hour. Read more
The other day I went to visit the Franklin G. Burroughs art museum in Myrtle Beach. It was fantastic – they have a brilliant exhibition at the moment called The Water’s Fine which features works of art relating to water. Most are about the ocean, which feels appropriate for a museum that’s next to the sea.
I loved some of the art so much that I’m seriously considering emailing them to ask how much it’d cost to buy it and ship it to England. A lot, though, I’d imagine. Read more
Hello, I’m in South Carolina, as you may have guessed from my constant ecstatic updates. Actually, since I queue up blog posts two weeks in advance, by the time this is posted I’ll be in the air on my way home again, mourning the lack of beaches and palm trees and humidity.
I knew it was my favourite place in the world, and I remembered almost crying in the airport when I had to come home, but remembering a feeling isn’t the same as feeling it, and when I arrived I realised what I’d remembered was just a shadow of how I’d actually felt. Read more