Place

I embraced my inner Eloise at the Plaza

I am 36, not six. Nevertheless, I arrive in New York with my favorite book, Eloise, packed carefully in my hand luggage. At the airport I hail a taxi, shove my bags in the back and ask the driver to take me to the Plaza Hotel. Talk about exciting. Eloise, for anyone who has not

What’s ruining skiing in Utah?

On New Year’s Day, I was awake at 5 a.m. – but not for the reasons you might think. I hadn’t been out all night celebrating with friends. I was awake early because it was a powder day in Utah, the type of day skiers and snowboarders dream of. I had to be at my

Why I can’t resist a red-light district

I am writing this on the 17th floor of the Novotel Sukhumvit, on Soi 4, aka “Soi Nana,” in Khlong Toei, Bangkok. For anyone that knows the Big Mango, they’ve already guessed where I am, psychogeographically: from that tell-tale word “Nana.” For those still in the dark, I am on the rude, ribald, rambunctious street

Southern Africa is full of surprises

Picture yourself lying in bed in a restored vintage railroad car parked on a bridge overlooking the Lower Sabie River in South Africa’s Kruger National Park. Outside your window, there’s a gigantic herd of elephants, ranging in size from pint-sized babies to Brobdingnagian behemoths marching purposefully by as though auditioning for a National Geographic documentary.

A West Coast World Cup road trip

I am standing inside perhaps the most sophisticated stadium ever built: a magnificent, latticed half-dome of white steel and trillion-pixel megascreens, bent over a football pitch so green it looks iced. And I am watching my least favorite sport on Earth: American football. As I guzzle citrus beer, the players take their 683rd strategic break

inca Llullaillaco

Inside the Inca ritual of child sacrifice

The children of Llullaillaco don’t look too different from the living children I’ve seen around Salta. They’ve got the same diamond-shaped faces, pecan-colored skin and straight, pitch-dark hair. Of course, the children of Llullaillaco are smaller, as people five centuries ago were wont to be – and dead. I’m talking about three Incan child-sacrifice mummies,