If you skip over the fact that I made three trips in the past thirty days, and have two more coming up in the next two weeks, I don’t really travel all that much Bordeaux wine. (And it’s funny because some people like to try to point out inconsistencies about things I write about, which is amusing because I take even greater pains to point them out myself.) Before I moved to Europe, I was always quite surprised when I thought Europeans spent all their free time and weekends heading to other countries, visiting new cities, and immersing themselves in foreign cultures, when quite a few of them stay at home in lieu of hitting the road TV Mobile Stand.


Then I moved to France and stayed at home almost all the time. (In my defense, the mind-numbing amount of paperwork one has to do contributes somewhat to the inability to leave one’s house.) The other thing that keeps me from traveling is the difficulty I have is navigating unfamiliar cities. I know my way around Paris like the back of mon main, but plop me in the center of Berlin, Lisbon, or Lausanne, and for the first day or two I spend a considerable amount of time getting hopelessly lost Flowers in Hong Kong delivery.