Ok, I must admit. Today took everything I had in me to follow through with a big fat statement I’d made. When in a new city, I like to live like the locals live, in an apartment or in a home. Shanghai was no exception. My friend Casey had asked
I arrived in Shanghai in one piece and quite rested. Having an entire row to myself on the plane allowed me to get plenty of sleep. My first impression of Shanghai came as I exited immigration control. A man wearing a badge that read, “Airport Personnel,” stepped out from behind
Well, from what I’ve heard from my internationally savvy friends, I should have probably chosen to visit Beijing versus Shanghai. “Will you see the Terracotta Army?” is the most commonly asked question of me. Next, it’s the Great Wall, both more accessible to Beijing than to Shanghai. The Forbidden City
Oh, me. What have I done? It was a typical Monday morning. I woke up about 6, crawled out of bed and walked directly to the kitchen to get my coffee started. While it brewed, I parked myself in front of my computer and started scrolling through my clients’ social media
I travel on a very limited budget. The down side of that is I seldom discover the art of fine dining in the places I visit. The good side is that I often end up sitting in a park, eating street fare, amongst the local color. Or in some hole-in-the-wall
I’ve always hated history. Ever since the 7th grade at Sidney Phillips, when my social studies teacher made us memorize an exhaustive list of wars and Louises with Roman numerals, I tuned out. I know history is important, but its not my thing. I’m much more curious about events and
Not good. Four days in this intriguing city is way short of what it’ll take to really see it. We had just gotten settled in our apartment. With the front windows open, we were enjoying the breeze and watching the sun set over the Sea of Marmara when we heard
Am just back in Panamá City after two days on Isla Colón, the largest of the nine islands in the Bocas del Toro archipelago. These islands are located on the extreme western side of Panamá, only 40 kilometers, or about 24 miles, from Costa Rica. The first words out of my
When my father announced to my mother that he’d received orders for El Salvador, her first question was, “Where in the world is THAT?” Just picture this: It’s 1958 and you’ve just been told you have to pack up your 2-year-old and 5-year-old daughters and take them to some God-forsaken
Tired as an old goat, I stumbled into the Atlanta airport this morning at 6am. I have a bad habit of obsessing the night before a trip. I get my packing done, finish work and household chores. Then I get this wild notion that I must change the oil in
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