Table For One, Madame?

2 posts in as many days ! This be because there'll be a temporary radio silence from me. Cf. Final paragraph... In the meantime - a review of my flash holiday in San Francisco. Day 1: I'll be alone in saying the following, but I've been honest with you so far (Largely. Half. OK fine, a little honest. I've been a little honest.) San Francisco is the first place I've visited in the states that I wouldn't want to live in. I suppose this is actually a blessing given you have to sell 60% of your bodily organs to get a 5m squared apartment here. But all the same I was hoping I'd feel the same way about SF as every other human bean. Have I already spent all my love throughout the other states ?? Was it not what I expected ? I've taken myself aside to have a good hard think about why it might be that I'm being so obstinate about an evidently, and according to all popular opinion, delightful city. Here's what I can conclude: The fog. Is there a M

Colorado gifted me a lot of things. Sleep was not one of them. Having slept only intermittently through Iowa and Nebraska, I was really thrilled to check into my peaceful air bnb in a really sweet residential neighbourhood in Denver. Floor space to do yoga ? Check. Giant bed to get all the zzz's ? Check. Comfy sofa to catch up on reading and calm activities I'm probably too young for ? Check check. Did I utilise any of these amenities ? Of course not. Soon after arriving my lovely host asked if I'd like to join her and her friends for a beer that evening. My one-to-be-polite beer escalated to 3am chats on the porch surrounded by a very great many empty cans and a growing number of hip people. I like to think this was my welcome parade. The next day I woke up fearfully early to take advantage of my Mountain Zone time. Like the rest of the world, Denver is riding the brunch wave so I paid my dues and hopped on. Something about people in Denver - they're very cool. Not i

Having waxed so lyrical about NYC and how I'd never find somewhere like it.... Chicago has given it a pretty good run for its money. It's no New York but it's also very understandable why it's named The Second City. I feel this comparison may actually be selling Chicago short - it's a very different city, born of different circumstances, subject to different histories, located on different shores. Well I want to give "the second city" it's dues. My Chi-town adventure was split in two by another cosy family stay in the 'burbs of Milwaukee. More of later. What did Chicago have to give me ? 1. Great food. I know - when is this blog coming ? Well the answer is probably never as I keep eating and editing. 2. An architecture river tour. I know. I thought the same thing, too. Why would I want an education on this trip ?? That's certainly not what I came away for... But all the same, it was recommended repeatedly from multiple sources, and whilst

I'm in the habit of writing this blog whilst in transit which is because I am spending all my other time engaged in activity and/or comatosing strangers with my incessant questioning. So on that note let's take a moment to pause and ask ourselves the following question: Great Western Rail, WHAT ARE YOU DOING ??? Mr/Mrs Amtrak just got it so right ! My first long distance experience was from New York to Chicago, and it was as pleasant as 19hrs of any consecutive travel can be. The first few hours the tracks stuck right to the edge of the Hudson river as we wound our way upstate. This is beautiful. If you're looking for a million dollar holiday home, which why wouldn't you be, then look no further - I've found you your gem. There was then a moment when I wasn't sure what was happening, as we stopped in Albany for an hour. No one was getting on or off. Was I meant to be admiring the grand state capital ? (Nothing grand or stately from where I was sat) Was there a

My eyes prickled four times in New York. Two of those times were on arriving and leaving the city. I've only fallen in love with a place so hard and fast once before, and I ended up living there for 2 years. In other words what I'm saying is - who's got an American cousin/colleage/dentist I can marry ?? I wouldn't pretend to be the first to have felt love-at-first-sight with NYC. I'm pretty sure she's seduced a number of foreigners and natives alike. But, like many a visitor before me, I felt like we had Something Special. New York got me. I got New York. We had our 'in' jokes. We read the mood straight away and presented all the right things at all the right times. I just heard a story of a couple who got engaged the first night they met. This could have been me and NY !!! But the road is a cruel mistress and she waits for no one (by which I mean - I had a train waiting who literally was waiting for no one). What did I do in the great city then ? On

Scene setting: Greyhound bus, where even the aroma of a stagnating toilet and the enthusiastic (read incessant) commentary of the bus driver are stomachable as I trundle through the very green beauty of Rhode Island and Connecticut en route to the Big Apple.... Although 26 years of life (and 3 specific years of anthropology) have been drumming into me how not to stereotype, I'd be lying to say I didn't hold certain images in mind when I thought of the states. I don't need to articulate the images many of us have of our American compadres. But I think this past week has been one of the many in which I will be proven shortsighted. New England is exactly where it has been right for me to start my journey from Old England. Wondering the streets of Boston or the beaches of Cape Cod or the woods of Waltham, there have been many moments when I wouldn't have known I was in America. Or anywhere in particular - they just feel like very familiar environments. The food is great (

Friday morning was a little stressful. The Post Office and the bank were in cahoots to bring me down emotionally and financially, I'd forgotten to print off important documents, and I snagged a pair of knickers (promise not all posts will reference my smalls). Issues aside, a few hours later I had bumbled through security and found my plane where I was blessed with silent, slim fellow passengers. No extender seat belts in sight. Phew. I had, however, convinced myself that I'd be back on British soil within 24hrs. The reason being I'd spent too much time reading horror stories of the infamous American immigration system (a neurosis only furthered by current politics...) I had vivid visions of sitting in a clammy, windowless room, with a guy named Jerry spitting pistachio shells onto the floor, refusing me entry to the glory land. What actually happened was all quite straight forward. The usual questions, when I was leaving, was I a terrorist etc. And then real life Jerry