I’ve heard good things about The French Market Cafe (cheers Guardian!) so I head up there this morning for breakfast. It’s at the very top end of Abbot Kinney and a good 40 minute walk past all the beautiful houses here in Venice. Continue reading “A long walk on a short pier”
When I wake up today it’s still windy and cloudy, which doesn’t amuse me. Come on California, where is my sun?! The sky is scheduled to clear around noon so I potter about and grab some breakfast from whole foods until it clears (note: I am obsessed with this place and will be starting a petition to get one opened in Manchester upon my return). Continue reading “Gon-dola with the wind”
Except of course, that it is. Today I’ve taken the TRE train an hour West of Dallas to Fort Worth to hit up The Stockyards. Continue reading “This ain’t my first rodeo cowboy…”
Yuk. My mouth tastes like last night’s sangrita (that’s a sangria flavour margarita to the uninformed). Although tequila is a pretty grim flavour for 10am, it is at least testament to the fun I had yesterday evening here in Uptown. Continue reading “Purple rain”
My 80’s soap opera trivia is second to none, so I’m well aware of the scandalous cliffhanger on TV show Dallas, with the teasing tag line: ‘who shot JR?’. What I didn’t realise was that back in the real world, Dallas is where President John. F. Kennedy was shot. Continue reading “Who shot JR?”
It’s time to leave the state again and so I get myself a hearty last meal here in Nashville this morning. I hit up Arnold’s, an old grungy canteen style diner on the outskirts of the industrial Gulch. Continue reading “Uptown funk”
It’s predicted to thunderstorm today so I head out early to walk up to Vanderbilt Campus before I drown in hot rain. It’s a beautifully expansive campus and it’s leafy trees, lush grasses and old brick and stone buildings remind me a lot of Durham. Continue reading “Cashing out”
It’s raining today in Nashville. Not a little one hour tropical storm i’m used to in the USA, but a full blown grey sky, relentless British drizzle. Yuk. Fortunately I have my trusty travel umbrella to hand, although I’m massively regretting the open toed sandals, seeing as i’m now probably going to contract trench foot. Continue reading “Islands in the stream”