First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

The Joy of Produce

I was cozy at home with the Times this morning, but I booted myself out at 9 AM to drive to the Hollywood Farmer’s Market, because I’d committed to it here last week, and it’s good to keep your promises. I talked to a few strangers (also, as promised), but they were vendors, and I’m hoping that counts. I also made small talk with two separate neighbors who live right up the street (and I know that doesn’t count). The fruits and vegetables were beautiful, and worth the trip.

Deadline for contest submissions is Monday.

Are You A Citizen of the World (Cup)?

While the U.S. soccer team was still in contention, a total of 99.2 million viewers in the U.S. had watched at least six minutes of the World Cup. Because of my visiting friend–and passionate fan–Miguel, I was one of them. This stencil art is from a wall in Rome (via Mol and Miguel).

The “C” Word

No marriage, no family, can survive three rainy days in a camper – John Steinback

Through the years, I’ve slept in the wilderness in a tent. On two separate occasions, I survived three days in a camper (no rain). Last fall, during a romance with an outdoor adventure writer, he suggested we backpack for a weekend in the middle of nowhere, and I would have done that for him, but we split up. On the whole, though, I am much happier in a cushy hotel room, with a big bathtub. Occasionally I’ll get inquiries from men on dating sites whose profiles boast of camping, hiking, kayaking and other robust outdoor activities, but I’m afraid I’ll disappoint them with my urban ways, so I’m honest, and don’t usually hear back. How do you feel about the “C” word?

Image: The Forest, by Blair Mclean

Is it Inevitable to Get Depressed After Vacation?

I’ve been home for 48 hours, and already the bliss of Italy is slipping away. Is it just the universe evening up the score that I returned to a jury summons (now that’s cruel) and a nagging toothache? At least I get to relive the high points when someone asks about my trip, as I describe the scrumptious food, mind-blowing scenery, and deep pleasure of walking for hours through the ancient, cobblestoned streets.

Photograph by Miguel Torres of a stencil on a Roman building. Artist unknown.

Arrivederci Roma

On my last day in Italy, I’m soaking in the romantic ambience and fantastic food. Our spacious apartment near the Piazza Navona, is a few blocks away from an outdoor food market, and the carts are loaded with spring vegetables, olives and cheese. There’s no more room in my luggage, otherwise, I’d take this hunk of Reggiano along for the ride home. Continue reading »

Celebrating our Similarities

5 Food Highlights from Rome (so far)

On this trip to Italy, I haven’t had to research where to eat, thanks to Mol, a friend and most able food guide. She’s a world traveler, currently based in Rome with her husband, and has exquisite and inquisitive taste. Mol knows all the best local eateries for pasta, pizza, gelato, cappuccino. What a vacation!   Continue reading »

Room with a View

In our locanda in Venice, the preferred rooms are the ones with the canal view. Mine faced the street. Yet how lucky, first thing this morning, to catch a glimpse into the building across the way, as this couple made pasta together. (FYI, the man was in his underwear.)

Will Venice Live Up to the Hype?

Walking out of the train station was a surprisingly dispiriting experience. Despite the iconic scenery, the streets are so clogged with tourists, that for a moment, it felt like arriving in Disneyland. We dragged the luggage up steps and over bridges for a twenty minute walk to our hotel, Locando Sant’ Agostin, which is in a quiet district, away from the crowds. Federico, our lively concierge, had a great restaurant suggestion, tucked away in a cozy neighborhood where Venetians actually live. And that’s when you realize, Venice is not to be missed.

Why My Hissy Fit Paid Off

In Perugia for a few days, a beautiful hill town of Umbria, we checked into a small B & B. My heart sank when we walked up the creaky stairs, and I felt like I was stranded in the kids room of a stranger’s house. When I tried to flush the toilet, the handle broke. In a flash, I realized I’ve moved beyond the B & B phase of my life and had to get out of there. Yes, it was a “princess” move. But luckily there was a picturesque hotel right next door, and since it was 11:00 pm, the sweet man at Reception gave me a great rate for the best room in the place. This photo is the view from my private terrace.