Winter, 1907. You live in Clifden in western Ireland, and your favorite way to spend the rare clear-skied evening (after a hard day of farming or herding or shopkeeping) is to walk up the hill to the monument.
The sunsets are gorgeous over the Atlantic ocean, and as dusk falls you can look south to see a man-made lightning show. Sparks dance over eight huge wooden masts marking a rectangle 1,000 feet long by 200 wide. The masts support 52 wires running lengthwise across the top, which fan down at one end into a single wire connected to a mysterious building. The entire apparatus is over 200 feet tall, and when the wind is right you might hear the electricity crackling.
Continue reading “From Newfoundland to Ireland with Marconi”
September, 2018: I love the names of things in post-Soviet places, and Kyiv is an absolute treasure trove. I’m sure it’s partly translations, but it can’t be just that…. Not when I went out for cheesecake and cocktails at Life of Wonderful People (pictured here: the Eruca Smash, with gin, lime, sugar syrup, arugula leaves, and rhubarb bitters), breakfast at Favorite Uncle, and 2am white-tablecloth dinners at Under Wonder. 
31 July, 2018: We spent the last few days of our Italian adventure in Milan, enjoying the architecture, art, and cocktails. We had a lovely apartment, in easy walking distance to everything, and although we were sad to leave the mountains, it was fun to be back in a city with lots and lots to do and explore. 
28 July, 2018: We left the dairy cottage and drove through the mountains past some lovely examples of Bavarian architecture, on our way to return the rental car and spend the last few days of the trip in Milan. We made two stops along the way — one at San Pellegrino (which, spoiler alert, turned out to be the wrong one), and one at a “rainbow lake” that was nowhere near as rainbowed as the amazing Lago di Sorapis from our last hike. 
27 July, 2018: Before we left the Dolomites, we had one more chance to do a proper hike, and we didn’t want to miss it. We chose Lago di Sorapis; a lake rumored to be quite pretty at the top of a ~5.5k trail. I knew no more than that, and hadn’t looked at any pictures (and I’m glad I didn’t, as the unfolding views and the lake at the end were much better as a surprise… and I’m not sure I would have gone if I had seen pictures of the trail I’d have to cross to get there). 
The Further Adventures of Shastified 