Miami is constantly reinventing itself, and over the past year, I discovered that Coconut Grove - hip and cool 30 years ago, then declasse and "tired," has been remaking itself in the classic "boom-bust-and-boom" Miami style. Its funky, artsy personality remains as glass-wrapped high rises line up along South Bayshore Drive. Here's more of what to find today in Miami.
Forget the Cape. For a low-key weekend journey, explore the FarmCoast of Massachusetts and Rhode Island - and its villages, creeks and farmlands within an easy day's getaway from Providence or Boston and a weekend journey from Manhattan. Tucked out of the way south of Interstate 195 that heads to Cape Cod these tiny communities along Buzzards Bay, Rhode Island Sound and the tidal Westport and Sakonnet rivers happily let you find them.
If you think of designer Rei Kawakubo's current exhibit at the Met ("Rei Kawakubo/Comme des Garcons: Art of the 'In-Between'") as a commentary on life, it's a lot more palatable than thinking of the clothes as something you'd run out in for the evening. (Well, some do - keep reading.) Not to be missed either is the Irving Penn retrospective (Irving Penn: Centennial), more than 150 photos representing all his genres, including his elegant fashion photography for Vogue. You might call this the polar opposite of Kawakubo's imagination.
National Independent Bookstore Day the last weekend in April is a regular reminder that indie bookstores are travel destinations And why not? Writer Ann Patchett, who owns the Nashville, Tennessee Parnassus Books I've visited, wrote about this eloquently in the recent special New York Times Travel section on bookstores. (There are several fascinating articles in this special section of Dec. 6, 2016 about literary adventures and bookstore destinations. Additionally the National Independent Bookstore Day link provides a long list of some but not all indie bookstores around the U.S.) When I'm on the road and happen upon an indie bookstore,...
Testimony, the memoir by The Band's guitarist and principal songwriter Robbie Robertson, ends with The Last Waltz, the group's final concert in 1976 and often called "the end of an era" for the melange of rock, blues and folk that fueled the '60s and '70s. Forever etched in memory as the pulsating, doe-eyed virtuoso guitarist in the magenta scarf that iconic evening, which was captured on film by Martin Scorsese, Robbie Robertson drew several hundred aging rockers and younger people to Dominican University just 25 miles north of San Francisco's Winterland, where the The Last Waltz was performed.
Up at 6250 feet, with the wind blowing and the snow on the way, I'm feeling the rush of the fresh air and the heights, all which promote opening one's imagination. The book at hand is fiction drawn from the stories of the women journalists who bucked all odds in World War II to be on the frontlines. Who is a Womantraveler, if not one of them? The trip across country from Miami was easy but the stories were abundant. The couple from Rochester who had selected the United flight because - to celebrate his 80th birthday - he wanted...
Terry McDonell, author of the new memoir, The Accidental Life, has edited some of the best writers of our generation -- and likely some of them are better because of him. Yet he opened his remarks at the independent bookstore Book Passage in Marin County, California with a confession - "I could not get a good job as a writer, so I began to tumble my way into editing jobs."
Hog Island has always delivered some of the most delicious West Coast oysters but with climate change's colossal effect on Pacific Ocean seafood its farmed oyster beds not far from San Francisco are ever-more vital.
Thank you, Eileen Fisher, for reminding us of what's important besides beautiful and practical clothes for travel - and to the League of Women Voters for this important service. Whether you travel for business or pleasure, fill out this form and act now!
I have strong women on my mind in these recent weeks as courageous women have been petulantly (and liberally) dismissed or vilified in some quarters, so my brief encounter with Misty Copeland, the American Ballet Theatre's first African-American female principal dancer, was all the more significant.