The blues that emanate from J.P. Soars are as diverse as the road he travels. Born out West in Anaheim, California, a very young J.P. and his family moved to Cedarville, Arkansas. Just to narrow that down, Soars tells me. “It’s in between Ft. Smith and Fayetteville.” In his teens, the family relocated again, this time even further east to …
Embraced by the verdant Euganean Hills, an archipelago of conical-shaped peaks dating back some 35-million years, the thermal baths of Abano Terme, just 54 km southwest of Venice, form the oldest and largest benessere (wellness) center in Europe and, arguably, the world. Specializing in fango-balneotherapy, La Città Termale (The Thermal City) has an ancient, mythical past.
One thing you'll never have to ask, if you are ensconced-and I might add, you will be ensconced very happily and very pleasantly-in Hotel L'Orologio Roma, is what time is it? The hotel's name is a dead give-away: L'Orologio, or the clock.
There are many sights to see on the road to Santiago, Spain, better known to pilgrims as St. James Way, or simply the Camino. Perhaps one of the most unusual I've experienced is Herreria de Compludo - the Forge of Compludo. Older than the pilgrimage itself, which became popular during the Middle Ages, the forge dates back to the seventh century.
I raise my baton to alert the orchestra that I am ready to conduct. In my best imposture of Gustavo Dudamel, I cue the woodwinds, then coax in the stringed instruments, and finally, I direct the brass-perching on the precipice and at the ready-to chime in. I punctuate my air-piercing baton-swirling, with a jab toward the timpani to elicit an emphatic beat. Smug and sly, I think that Felix Mendelssohn's Italian Symphony never sounded so expressive. As if following my intensity, the surrounding chamber becomes enveloped in a saturated vermillion glow that melts into an intense violet, as I command the orchestra…and we sprint together to the end of the first movement.
The year is 1954. For the first time in six years, the New York Yankees are not in contention for the world series. But I don't care - I spent the early school year racing home to watch my heroes on our tiny black-and-white TV. I not only know all the players - Andy Carey on third, Mickey Mantle in center, Hank Bauer in right, Moose Skowron on first, Yogi Berra catching - but their batting averages and other stats. I was obsessed. I was also a 10-year-old girl.
Catalina is not just an island paradise; it’s a very close island paradise, which makes it a perfect day or weekend getaway for Southern California residents. In fact, at only 22 nautical miles across the sea from Long Beach, the island can be reached by boat in one hour. With this in mind, the family and I recently escaped to the island for a memorable getaway.
I'm sitting on the beach doing nothing. I did the same thing yesterday. I also did nothing sitting on my hotel balcony. Okay, I was listening to the waves but certain do nothing things are allowed. Reading, for instance. I have a couple of days left to my vacation and I plan to do nothing in them also. It's not that easy to do nothing.
The sweat running down your brow, as you gently puff into the blowpipe attached to the amorphous blob of molten glass at the end of said pipe-which is inserted in a furnace-is not from the 2,300-degree fire in front of you-it's from your nerves! You just don't want to make a "mistake" on your very first piece of (what will assuredly be museum-worthy) art glass. Phew.
Our current T-Boy Society of Travel, Film & Music is devoted to domestic or international destinations in which you'd visit for its music. Once again, this allows us to see a different side of our esteemed writers who've been regularly delivering original content; a content that readers can only find on T-Boy.