The bar transcends the realms of a neighborhood staple and a cocktail bar on the world’s stage.
On a severely cold night in W14, under a typical red and white striped awning in St. Germain Des-Pres, we’d sat for drinks. Parisians with cigarettes fill straw chairs. Smoke, laughter, and light rain spills into the dark, cobblestone streets.
Brugge, living up to it’s ‘Venice of the North’ label, grants you the experience of an antique store, where you’re perpetually sorting through what is genuine and what is kitsch.
October 2nd, 2018 Today, I had this thought. It’s overcast, a glum, fall day in Paris, only the first like this, and I’d been pinned to my mattress by the weather and the suffocating sensation of depression. I fell into a 2-hour waking dream where I confessed to an old, random acquaintance of mine thatContinue reading “Letter from the Editor: Mental Health”
I promise to be as objective as possible and to paint Paris without a reference to Picasso’s brush or, god forbid, Hemingway’s drinking habits.
Lima, Peru–Pisco Sour, Pisco Shower! Sang the two French women. We were happy to be going out, finally. After long flights, an uncomfortable first night at our hostel and a long wait outside of a Mcdonald’s in a modest, Peruvian chill, our couch-surfing host arrived. Miguel Angel was a man of many languages, but fewContinue reading “Peru’s Celebrated Cocktail, the Pisco Sour”