Dinner by Heston: A Michelin-Starred Hangover

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This one time, in London, we spent over $300 to cure a hangover. It was quite possibly the best – and most expensive – lunch we’ve ever eaten. And it was worth every penny. Flashback to the previous evening. We went out for supper with our friend at Upstairs at the Ten Bells. It was a great meal in itself, but as it often happens, a meal turns into drinks. A couple hours later we find ourselves hanging out at …

Halloween in Holland

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I make an ugly woman. November first, Eindhoven, Netherlands. It’s Friday afternoon, the day after Halloween, and we’re pinching pennies in a tiny little costume shop near downtown. Although Halloween traditionally isn’t celebrated in this part of the world, there is a fairly strong expat community here that still throws down. We’re taking the week to relax after a few weeks of fairly busy travel, staying with Kylee’s sister Kristy, and her boyfriend Aren, who is currently living here for …

Getting some Exercise in Montenegro

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There was one final stop in Bosnia before heading to the boarder, A day trip to the town of Mostar, a nice little town about two hours west of Sarajevo. I hadn’t enough time to explore the city much outside of the old town, which is what brings the majority of visitors to the city. Quite typical of most medieval cities of Austrio-Hungarian and Ottoman era influence, old stone buildings and roads, mosques and churches, weave their way outwards from …

Budapest to Bosnia (and Why I’m a Hypocrite)

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If you told me twenty years ago that I would be travelling around the world, I would have brushed the comment off as nothing. I couldn’t care less at the time about leaving the comforts of home. If you told me I would be traveling to Croatia, Serbia, or Bosnia, I would have called you crazy. In 1993, Yugoslavia was breaking apart in all out civil war. The Balkans were one of the most dangerous and chaotic places on earth. …

Sardinia: Beaches, Cork Trees and Cobblestone

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Over the span of two nights, I’ve had the two best pasta dishes of my entire life: One on a small farm in the mountains around Nuoro, the other in the seaside village of Alghero. Two weeks have past since we left the turbulence of Rome, and set foot on Sardinia, the southern of the two islands (Corsica to the north), directly west of mainland Italy. In this short time we’ve spent the days lying on pristine beaches, exploring and …

Rags on Sticks, and Pig Skin; or Rome pt. 2

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Rewind a couple of days. The flight was pretty standard: watched some movies, had some drinks and questionable food, and stared at the insides of my eyelids for hours at a pathetic attempt at airplane sleep. Landing in Rome, we cab to the centre of the city and find our hotel. Already over-tired, just looking to put our bags in a room and get some food, we attempt check-in. Here’s where the fun starts. Through one reason or another, when …

Sleep Deprivation is a Powerful Drug; or Rome pt. 1

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Three days in Rome should be enough. I’m thinking about monkeys. It’s sometime in the afternoon of the second day, the windows to our very small, though quite beautiful hotel room are shut, curtains doing their best to block out any shred of light from the outside, and the power is off entirely. Last time I was in the washroom, I avoided looking at my reflection in the mirror because the time before that, I barely recognized what was staring …

Eating at the French Laundry

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Our first real introduction to the French Laundry was many years ago on Anthony Bourdain’s first show: A Cooks Tour. We’d browsed the legendary cookbook before, but at the time couldn’t really grasp it’s magnitude. At the time, the restaurant held the number one spot in the world, a concept that simple line cooks in culinary school couldn’t fathom. Fast forward nearly a decade, and Kylee drops one of the biggest surprises on me, several months before my birthday. Now, …

Back to Mumbai… or a Little more Goa

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Well, the last day in paradise arrived. One last swim in the warm, salty waters of the Arabian sea, a quick breakfast, and we check out of our bamboo beach hut. After walking through the burning sand to the main road, we grab a rickshaw back to the ‘town’ at Palolem to catch our bus back to Margao.  From there, the plan is to meet up with the main bus back to Mumbai; and after that 16 hour bus ride, …

Goa

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And to think, of all our plans for this trip, we hadn’t included Goa. Thought about it yes, but thought it would actually happen? Goa is a tiny little state about 12 hours south of Mumbai, and thinking we wouldn’t even have enough time left after traveling the north, even making Mumbai in time was a minor concern. Long blog short, plans changed, and we hopped our train to Mumbai, and from there, the first one we could down south …