Honey, I’m not going to lie. I walked into my hotel suite with a limp wrist, a half-drunk glass of Pinot and fully possessed by the living spirit of NeNe Leakes. I’m on my way up. Savannah has that effect on me. I find everything here so incredibly lovely. Doors are held open, seemingly everyone is smiling and alcohol is readily available (except Sunday mornings when the wine is for Jesus only).
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I recently discovered two new joys of road-tripping: I-80 between Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and gas station potato chips. Not just any potato chips, but artificially flavored Italian Hoagie chips by PrimoHoagies. Do they taste like a hoagie? No. Yet, it makes your breath smell like you ate a footlong. How? Pennsylvania magic.
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Today I was supposed to be driving through Wyoming as part of an elaborate, multi-state road trip. From Yellowstone, my next stop would have been Grand Teton National Park, followed by Shoshone Falls in Idaho. But we all know what this year has done to our travel plans.
Thanks, pandemic.
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The first time I stepped foot here, I wept as if I were looking up at the Sistine Chapel…and I wasn’t even inside the Venetian. Everything was so far-fetched and over the top, yet so perfect at the same time. Is that a real life lion in the middle of a casino? Yes. Is that my waiter rappelling while holding a bottle of wine? Yes. Did a volcano just explode on Las Vegas Boulevard? Yes. Is that really Minnie Mouse doing something obscene to Sponge Bob’s nose? Yes.
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originally published June 2015
In a few weeks, I will embark on my most ambitious road trip thus far: An epic 40-hour, 2,700-mile journey from Miami to Los Angeles — in a Fiat.
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a little cuban goes a long way 