Sitting on the patio of the golf clubhouse at the Rosen Shingle Creek Hotel in Orlando and watching the pastel-clad golfers, their carts, and the sand traps, Florida’s dark history seems remote, a dream. Brutal Spanish explorers, Protestants killing Catholics,…
The Brawny Sherpa and I were more than grateful to head out of town after weathering Hurricane Sandy incredibly well—lost power for a few days, had only very minor damage to the purple bungalow, and temporarily hosted some of our…
I travel because I want to try out different lives. Could I remember the names of all the trees and remedies to become a shaman? Would throwing my slop into the streets of medieval Rouen be too much for me?…