To all those ladies who romanticize love on the run with a stranger, my take on it is this: if the guy is safe enough to bring back to your hotel, the experience probably wouldn’t be anything to write home about. Once you hit your thirties, it’s not worth worrying about your wallet going missing (at the very least) or translating “it burns when I pee” into Portuguese. Yes, Luigi will act heart-broken when you leave him on the street at the end of a pleasant evening, but you’re representing America, missy! Our rep is already pretty bad in Europe due to college exchange programs, so it’s best not to contribute to the impression that leads European men to treat us rather differently than they treat their own women.
Everything and nothing: the perfect small town of Nyon, Switzerland
The row of knotted trees along the lake lead you straight to the Roman ruins, and much like in Italy it is the striking contrast between ancient and modern life that lends Nyon its unique vibrancy. Medieval streets filled with a large fresh market bring up another dramatic juxtaposition of movie-perfect scenery in an undeniably genuine world.
Portugal by way of China: Weekend in Macau
The pace of Macau (and Hong Kong) are different from the elegant arrogance of Paris or the condescending cheek of London. Maybe it’s mostly the humid heat, but the rhythm left me off-kilter and awkward. I can crack the code of a city in Europe in an hour or two, find the beat even if I am a foot taller than their native women, but Macau left me dizzy, constantly wobbling toward a fall.