Cruising Hong Kong’s street markets is a savvy shopper’s dream come
true. Fashion hounds can score bagsful of famous label clothing
copies, counterfeit leather accessories, faux pearl necklaces, and fake
jade gewgaws. Gadget buyers gravitate to stalls overflowing with
cameras, watches, and electronic gizmos. On a recent ramble through a
bustling night bazaar, none of the above were on my list. I was
seeking a somewhat more authentic trinket. Snakes.
Some cultures regard serpents with fear and loathing. Not the
Chinese. A person born in the Year of the Snake is considered wise and
cunning. Able to slip in and out of tight situations with ease. A
formidable foe and a staunch ally. Cool, calm and collected.
Strikingly beautiful. Exotic. Sensuous. If one is not fortunate
enough to be born in the lucky year, there’s an alternative way to pick
up a little snake essence. You can eat them.
Travel
Travel
Tortillas in the Mountains: a Honduran Story
Google Maps will tell you that "we could not understand" the location of Las Aradas, Honduras. Weather.com advises to check your spelling. My trip coordinator suggested looking up the "nearest town over" which was a two and half hour drive away. Packing for a trip like this was a bit of a moving target. Las Aradas is a mountain village, six hours out of San Pedro Sula. For those of you who haven't been browsing the State Department's travel warnings lately--Honduras is not a stable country. The PeaceCorps pulled their volunteers out last year.
Was I scared? Yes. Sometimes. We joked about it a lot. Honduras is the murder capital of the world. Like, actually. Reference the state department website. San Pedro Sula, where I flew in and out of and stayed two nights has more homicides than any other city in. the. world. However, the people that I was traveling with were INCREDIBLE. They make me want to change my life. They make me realize what is possible to do in life.
Anyway, back to Las Aradas. Remote. Good tortillas. Minimal gun shots. (You have to celebrate St. Patty's day or a soccer win somehow.) They have running water, but no electricity. The roosters start crowing at 3:00 a.m. That sort of thing.
The Georgia Grits Festival
I think I stopped giving grits a chance many years ago when Lucy became our family pet. She's an amazing bird, a Yellow Naped Amazon parrot that has an unbelievable vocabulary, an infectious laugh, can tell my identical twin brothers apart and eats grits every morning for breakfast. Sounds charming but think about being awakened by a bird with a loud, piercing voice calling my name every morning demanding her grits.
By golly, you better get them right or she gets mad and starts screaming. She likes her grits a bit runny, butter, salt and pepper with a sprinkling of cheese. They need to sit for a few minutes so they won't burn her beak because that really makes her mad. Get it right and she turns into this loving soul who will say in her lovely southern accent "Praise the Lord" and "You're a very pretty girl." Gee thanks.
Inside Barcelona: The Best Ham Sandwich in the World
We’d been at the Barcelona Cathedral, the old one, not the Gaudi one that’s never finished, extraordinary gothic architecture graced with gargoyles and an adjacent museum with jewel encrusted crosses, too many carats to count. The cathedral is the resting place of Santa Eulalia. Almost like a film credit, she is the co-patron saint of Barcelona and the cathedral is guarded by thirteen white geese as she was thirteen when she died. (I know this is true because I counted them.)
We were on a cruise and the ship was leaving at five. It was three o’clock and we hadn’t eaten. In the spirit of adventure, (risky, as this is sometimes not my husband’s favorite thing), I followed a native (read: person walking dog) through the back streets of Barcelona to a residential neighborhood only to discover the most amazing charcuterie I’d ever seen. In the back of a shop, a white tableclothed restaurant with wine and cheese pairings and other delights. Reservations only.
The sommelier was intractable even though there was an empty table. He insisted we come back in an hour and a half. I tried to explain to him our ship would be gone by then. In desperation, it was almost four o’clock by then and like I said, we hadn’t eaten. My family can attest to the fact that I do not do well without food.
Off Season in the Sonoma Wine Country
Spring is the perfect time for an off-season weekend in California's Sonoma Valley. Premium rates don't begin until just before the Memorial Day weekend.
Off-season extends from the end of harvest in November through mid-May. In December, January, and February there can be a bit of rain, which is good for the grapes. Even for visitors, the inclement weather adds to the valley's charms, especially with so many restaurants serving comfort food and great wines.
During March and April, day time temperatures hover in the mid 60's to low 70's, with the nights still in fireplace-cozy mid-40s. Only a few buds appear on the vines, but brilliantly colored wild flowers are already in full bloom.
Fields of bright yellow mustard plants spread as far as the eye can see. Tall green grasses wet from the coastal air surround mile after mile of still dormant, grape vines. The lifeless looking vines mask the vitality that will burst forth as the day time temperatures climb into the 70's.
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