Cultural stereotypes are one of the most persistent facts of life. No matter where you’ve been, and no matter how true or untrue they may be, the beliefs that Italy has the best pizza, Switzerland the best chocolate, Japan the best sushi, and America the best burgers will continue to follow you wherever you are and niggle at your brain. Well, today I’m here to tell you that one stereotype is true: France has the best honeymoons.
After a spectacular wedding in our home state of New Hampshire, my- gasp!- husband …

I had heard stories, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect Bilbao.  We arrived on a tour bus with fellow students crossing tall bridges into the city.  I remember thinking that Bilbao felt like a fortress with the Guggenheim Museum nestled into the river bank.  Except the Guggenheim Museum is no ordinary structure found in any sort of fairy tale conceivable by quiet imaginations; more like a dreamland building in curvy titanium built by the one and only Frank Gehry (the same Canadian architect responsible for buildings such …

At the hotel, Kevin sits alone at the dinner table for six. He’s from Scotland and he’s never been to São Tomé before. We don’t know this, though, when we first sit down with him- four of us to fill the table up better. He is quiet, he eats quickly but at the same time he eats slowly and spreads his food around and studies it. He doesn’t look up.
The three Portuguese guys and I are talking about something, anything, I don’t remember what we’re talking about. One of the …

On the bus ride with the study abroad cohort to San Sebastian, I saw snow.  Let’s be honest, part of the reason I came to Spain to study abroad was for the culture and language, and the other big reason was to escape the snow and cold of Boston (where I attended college).  Needless to say, I was glad for my hat and coat sitting close by me in my weekend trip bag, but I wasn’t thrilled to have to use them.  After checking into the hotel and a brief …

After a short bus ride from, we finally made it to the ‘real’ Spain.  Barcelona (our home city at that time) is an amazing city, but as many Catalans love to tell you, it is not Spain.  Sevilla (Seville), however, is southern Spain’s capital of culture, flamenco, and tapas.  I was ready to experience this southern city with my group of travel buddies, and luckily we were all very chill, easy going folk.  So, we started off our first day in the city by touring some of the famous monuments …

Review On the Go:  Paris, Moi and The Gang: A Memoir… of Sorts centers around a year author Frances Gendlin spent living in Paris while writing a travel guide about the city. The book is filled with lovable characters, amusing anecdotes and the author’s genuine love for the City of Light. Gendlin’s writing is witty, well-crafted and engaging, and her descriptions of the city and its history, her quirky and enchanting group of friends, and the joys, challenges and oddities of being an American in Paris make this memoir a …

Granada was a sleepy dream dressed up in an old world mysticism, that southern sense of Spanish calm, and cold.  It was really cold.  Granted, it was late in the fall, but I was used to Barcelona’s beautiful weather and the tank top standard.  Braving the weather, and bracing for the worst, I pulled on everything warm that I had crammed into my shoulder bag for the long weekend trip when I woke that morning in the hostel.
My travel buddies- all five of us- and I got up early to …

I had to laugh when I saw Beth’s post earlier this week about the Big American Family. For the past couple of weeks, in spite of everything else that’s going on in my life, I’ve been subtly preoccupied with the same balance of being an American abroad. The conclusions I’ve been reaching, both consciously and subconsciously in my thoughts and behaviours, have been at once interesting and embarrassing and, I think, worth sharing in contrast to Beth’s.
Let me explain a couple of things first, though. The first is that I’ve …

“I wonder why they call it the Black Forest?” I say aloud as we wound our way through the streets. It’s a Sunday- the day when everything is closed in Germany- and the three of us have decided to celebrate a day off by going for a walk in the infamous Black Forest. A quick Chrome-assisted Google search (instant translation for the win!) has given us dozens of walking trails to choose from, and we’ve selected one with nearby parking and options for a 3, 5, or 11-kilometer hike. Even …

When the plane took off for my first trip to France, I was sure I was going home. With my dark hair, thin build, and enormous nose, I considered myself French through-and-through. Since my French heritage comes through my father’s side, I’d even inherited a French-Canadian last name and an unfortunately low tolerance for lactose. Not to mention my lifelong attachment to bread that has always alarmed my mother. Eager to reconnect with the Mother Land, I frantically sought to blend in.
I packed dark clothing, since I’d heard Europeans avoided …