The cafe is a cramped, chairs line the bar, leaving a narrow pathway to the back where it briefly expands to allow tables. The arched stone ceiling leaves little excess room, forcing the staff to crouch through the pantry door. Continue reading
After traveling all night, we touch down in Milan at 8am. By the time we clear customs, pick up an Italian SIM, and board the train, it’s after 10am. We drop our bags at our apartment just around the corner from Piazza Duomo and quickly make our way to a lunch of pizza and beer in a basement, it was like high school, but better, much better. Forget that shredded bulk “cheese” and freezer burned sausage (that’s probably mostly soy anyway), these melted mounds of mozzarella and halved balls of sweet sausage are what pizza is all about. Where was this when I was in high school? Why did they let me eat that frozen crap?
We stumble down the road a little further to Pasticceria Marchesi where, drunk on exhaustion, we order two cappuccinos, an espresso macchiato, and latte macchiato. The caffeine jolted our bodies to function, but our minds remained in a fog. Continue reading
The Ishtar Gate, the eighth gate to the inner city of Babylon, once one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and still a high ranking bucket list item for me. I chose my hotel specifically for its proximity to The Pergamon, a world renowned museum, and the modern era home of Nebuchadnezzar’s great gate. In the mornings as I walk past The Pergamon on my way to a nearby cafe I look towards it, the sun rising over the imposing building, lighting the empty courtyard with delicate morning rays. Continue reading
I’m looking for a new restaurant, I’ve eaten at the Italian cafe on the water overlooking the Berliner Dom at least once a day. No mater what direction I start walking, the curving streets I turn down always bring me back there. It’s nearing 8:30, I’m famished from a day in the hot sun, and so far the offering I’ve found are quick-stop tourist spots, I see the cafe ahead, so I return.
The wheat-gold light of the setting sun is gently lighting the surfaces and filling the spaces of the Berliner Dom. The angels on the rooftop seem to be reaching to the sun, while the reaper-like character stands, back turned with a cloak covering most of its down-turned head. Continue reading
As I sip my cafe au lait and eat my Pariser Frühstuck a little brown bird perches itself on my table and looks at me inquisitively. I looked back. And suddenly, with a flick of his tiny head, he takes a bite out of my baguette. Continue reading
I wake at 8am, but take my time rising from bed and am almost equally slow in dressing for the day. I arrive at Cafe Einstein around 10am, I sit at one of four tables in the back under an ivy canopy. Continue reading
The thing that makes stories like Doctor Who, Alice in Wonderland, Stargate, and all that vampire crap so wonderful to the viewers is that they offer you the idea that there is something more to this world, something magical, beyond your office, beyond your daily commute, beyond life as we know it. They offer the viewer the possibility that maybe someday The Doctor, Lieutenant General George Hammond, or Dr. Allison Blake will come knocking on their door. My first trip to Istanbul was that magical. Continue reading