#americanfemale #emilycarpenter #travel #adventure #london #uk #europe #camdenlockmarket #lifeisbeautiful
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#americanfemale #emilycarpenter #travel #adventure #london #uk #europe #camdenlockmarket #lifeisbeautiful
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Before departing on a trip to New York City last summer, my dad told me to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, one of the oldest suspension bridges in the United States, built in 1883. It had been 'sold' numerous times since then by con-man George C. Parker, his plot discovered by police officers who had to stop swindled buyers from installing toll barriers at the entrances to the bridge. I didn’t plan on it, but a morning spent wandering around my favorite borough in search of a slice and coffee (yes, pizza and coffee) led me to the BK entrance to the massive structure. I continued across, mesmerized by the gleaming East River and NYC skyline. The pedestrian traffic on the bridge was chaotic. Bikers rang their bells furiously as photo-snapping tourists blocked their exercise routes. Kids begged for frozen lemonade from vendors strategically located smack-dab in the middle of the sweltering mile-long trek. Women clicked their way from one end to another in red-bottomed stilettos, which puzzled and impressed me. I had no idea how they did it and no intention of finding out for myself. My green high tops were stylish enough. Dumping me into Manhattan at the end of the line, I continued my urban exploration for hours. Grabbing lunch with a friend from Pace University, pausing for a moment of silence at the World Trade Center, snacking on a dumpling while perusing the kitschy Canal St. goods, window shopping in SoHo, witnessing a Trayvon Martin protest in Union Square at the height of the trial, running out of the Times Square tourist trap as fast as I could, and catching some shade beneath a willowy tree in Central Park while discussing clouds with a monk made up my last day before heading back to St. Louis. I love New York. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #travel #nyc #bk #brooklynbridge #Brooklyn #centralpark #clouds #manhattan #pizza #coffee My friend Nigel insisted we dine at Fernando’s while in Macau. He was a UK expat living in China for quite a few years at that time, so I readily agreed. Walking down an overgrown path on the black sand of Hac Sa Beach to the restaurant, I wondered how good the food could really be. For the past fifteen years it had been touted as one of the best Portuguese-cuisine restaurants in Southeast Asia. Macau was a former Portuguese colony so it made sense to be located on Coloane Island. But we couldn’t even find it. Trudging along with great uncertainty, we eventually happened upon the dimly lit vine-covered entrance. An open-air beach side barn with a no reservation policy, we grabbed glasses of fresh sangria from the outdoor bar and battled on a foosball table in the humid air of the garden while waiting to be seated. I had my doubts about dinner. I was wrong. We ordered the crispy Suckling Pig, a bowl of spicy, steamed finger-food clams, and a sparkling bottle of vinho verde, green (young) Portuguese wine. The accompanying warm vegetables and thick Portuguese sweet bread were harvested and baked by Fernando’s themselves. It was the first bread I had seen since arriving in China weeks earlier and I ate it on sight. Devoured is probably a better description. My introduction to Portuguese cuisine was fantastic, only outdone by the view of magnificent Hac Sa Beach. Nigel crushed my dreams of a refreshing swim after dinner, insisting the mercury levels were too high. Pity. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #travel #asia #macau #hacsabeach #fernandos #portuguese #foodie #bread #vino #foosball I spent my 28th birthday on the paradise island of Koh Samui, Thailand but missed the infamous full-moon party on Koh Phangan. Next time. Renting a white and gold Honda scooter for $5 USD per day, I filled it with the old Smirnoff bottle of gasoline and navigated dirt roads up the side of a mountain for a few hours. Wandering around the jungle, I discovered the Na Mueang waterfall where a few people knelt praying quietly in the running water. I sat with my feet submerged as I soaked up the refreshing negative-ions in the air. Down the road was a tall tree being harvested for coconuts in order to make delicious coconut pudding, ice cream, and curry. It reminded me of an article I read recently, proclaiming 150 people died per year from falling coconuts. That was nothing compared to the scooter-related casualties in Thailand: approximately 26,000 per year. I had almost become part of that statistic the day before at an intersection in downtown Chaweng. That's a story for the book. I kept my eyes on the road, when there was one. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #travel #Thailand #kohsamui #waterfall #namueang #coconuts #scooter #asia Crumbling 17th-century Casco Viejo, Panama is the oldest city on the Pacific Coast of the Americas.
As an icon of old world charm, Casco Viejo boasts UNESCO World Heritage status. Sometimes called the Williamsburg to downtown Panama City’s Times Square, it is perfect for urban exploration on foot. Battling the early hours with a strong coffee from Casa Sucre, a café owned by expats from California, I spent almost an entire day traipsing around the brick roads on a treasure hunt for street art. The rebels-with-a-cause were ruthless in sharing their inspiring masterpieces, tagging historical cathedrals and dilapidated buildings alike. Although graffiti street art is illegal in Panama, the murals remain untouched, as the community recognizes them as an expression of beauty and creativity. Plus, tourists like it. #americanfemale #adventure #emilycarpenter #travel #panama #panamacity #cascoviejo #graffiti #streetart #supermariomushroom #casasucre When I visited Amsterdam, I didn’t expect to end up in a window of the Red Light District. After squeezing behind the bookcase and climbing the narrow stairs to Anne Frank’s attic, devouring Dutch waffles drenched in sickly-sweet chocolate and powdered sugar, and people-watching while sipping café lattes al fresco, I stumbled upon a Prostitution Museum nestled between two brothels overlooking the canal. It was appropriately open into the late night hours and entrance cost me just a few Euros. A viewing room draped in red velvet from floor-to-ceiling looped a short film on the less-than-glamorous lives of the more than 1000 working girls (and guys) in the Red Light District. Many worked 11 hours a day, six days a week. An average client visit was about seven minutes. Photographs and personal accounts filled-in-the-blanks for those who were curious about the attraction to prostitution. They unsurprisingly revealed an assortment of liberation and desperation. Entering the museum’s replica of a €150 per shift room rental, I was immediately illuminated in the red hue surrounding the clear glass. Revealing an incredible view of De Wallen, I was also met with glowing pairs of eyes staring back at me, window shopping. It was unnerving, to say the least. A ‘Confession Wall’ bid adieu to visitors, allowing them to scribble their scandalous secrets on scraps of paper and tack them up in solidarity with the rest of the unscrupulous. I added mine to the wall and stepped back onto the cobblestone streets with a smile. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #travel #redlightdistrict #Amsterdam #thenetherlands #museum #history The Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China known as Hong Kong is a dazzling display of East-meets-West. The official language is Cantonese, but you can get by just fine with English. By far the most crowded place I have ever been, personal space is valuable real estate. Apartments are crammed together in tall high-rises, taking advantage of every open square foot. Due to its status as one of the most densely populated places in the world, cleanliness is a high priority. Subway station handrails and floor mats are sanitized multiple times each day. Wait times for lunch at Crystal Jade La Mian Xiao Long Bao 翡翠拉麺小籠包, my favorite restaurant, regularly surpassed an hour. But it was always worth it once the bamboo tower full of steamed dumplings arrived alongside my bitter Super Long Jing green tea. Right before I hopped on a plane back to the States, I had the most spectacular ear cleaning at 1:00am in a bustling downtown massage parlor. Hong Kong never sleeps. #americanfemale #adventure #travel #emilycarpenter #hongkong #china #asia I once ate a Thousand-Year-Old-Egg at dinner in Macau to prove a point. In retrospect, it wasn't the best idea. A Thousand-Year-Old Egg is just as it sounds, an egg rotted to deep-purple perfection. Made from duck, chicken, or quail eggs, this process used to involve tediously plastering an egg in alkaline clay and waiting months or years for it to be ready for consumption. Modern egg curing techniques have whittled it down to some plastic wrap and a few weeks. Legend claims horse urine as the secret ingredient for its unique aroma. The Thousand-Year-Old Egg had a Jell-O texture and its flavor left something to be desired. No worries, my favorite BBQ pigeon wings were served next. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #travel #macau #china #asia #foodie |
AuthorThoroughly 21st Century adventuress traveling around the world and writing about it. Archives
November 2015
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