It's like 'Casablanca' in Havana

We kissed against their decrepit buildings, stood under waves of sea water, walked through controversial art galleries, danced on their cobblestone streets, drank ten cent cappuccinos and waited 5.5 hours to board our plane back to the land of the free. Havana was…interesting, lively and chaotic. If we had stayed just a few days I think we would have left with our rose colored glasses on, sparkly and clean. But we demanded an introduction to the real Cuba; if we had known that would involve hustling, food poisoning, lost money and an overall bleak view on the political state, past and present…we’d gladly do it all over again. Their companionable people and strangely captivating scenery left us feeling welcomed and appreciated. Hopeful. Granted, many of them thought we were anything but American which, we learned, was a good thing…and admittedly, it was pretty fun to be perceived as a different nationality to every passerby. I paid attention while there and would have loved to have the advice I’m now eager to share. If you plan on take note. 


We stayed at Casa Alta Habana in Old Havana. It was absolutely lovely, run by a hospitable, charming family. Beware, you have to climb five flight of stairs (which we welcomed...exercise!). They have a television...but if you truly immerse, you won't watch it. They also have wifi, you'll just need your ETECSA card (see below). The space is lovely and Spanish style, very green. Our room had extremely high ceilings and was super spacious, clean and bright. Hot water, air conditioning and a comfy bed...what more could you want? The rooftop is the highlight though; adorned with gardens filled with roses, fresh herbs, fruit. Breakfast is just 5 CUC (and its a spread), coffee is free and the drinks are the best we could find in the whole city - especially their caipirinhas. We salsa danced with Joy and got to meet other friendly foreigners. The view, though not traditionally beautiful (just because Havana isn't) was lovely, vast and eye opening. 

Finding good, authentic restaurants was a challenge and the drinks...well, they weren't always strong. We arrived to the city late at night and were starving and annoyed (after getting ripped off by our taxi driver who charged us double what he should have). Hence, we fell into a tourist trap restaurant - over priced and simply...gross. This made the gems so much better:

  • Somos Cuba was absolutely delicious. It's a hole in the wall located on San Ignacio just down the street from Plaza Vieja. It won't seem like much but it's the best dinner we had. Make sure you go up the concrete stairwell which is second, right after the one that looks like it might collapse. It'll lead you straight into a family's kitchen where you'll meet Ivan - your chef. There is a large display of beautiful, fresh produce and the ambiance is quiet, simple and original. The walls are covered with compliments from past guests, Cuban pride and vintage posters. It might take 30 minutes for Ivan to make your meal (he does it from scratch) but it's so worth it - flavorful, nourishing, incredible.

  • Arc Angel Cafe on Concordia between Galiano and Águila was quaint, lovely and timeless. It smelled like incense; the staff were gentle and sweet; the coffee nutty and strong. Fresh squeezed juice, robust breakfast and little, Cuban sandwiches and salads. They had live music sporadically throughout the week as well and they were located just a few blocks from the sea wall.

  • 304 O'Reilly and El Dandy were other good hot spots though Jack got food poisoning at El Dandy. It came highly recommended so I'm thinking just don't get the pork ribs? Or maybe it was a fluke? I'll let you decide. It's near the capital and has great, fun ambiance. 304 O'Reilly is located on O'Reilly; it was crowded even during the week so expect a possible wait. Lobster tacos and empanadas were on point.

  • We didn't make it to Chancullero since their electricity went out (3rd world country, am I right...) but we were told it was one of the best restaurants in Cuba (so you can imagine how bummed we were) with incredible drinks and Spanish style tapas. D'Next and El Cafe were other highly rated suggestions.

  • La Floridita, the cradle of the daiquiri, lived up to the hype. Best frozen daiquiri I've ever had and the Hemingway will put you on the floor. It was crowded and chaotic and simply wonderful. We had a blast.

  • We were told Bertal Brecht and Efe were great, lively bars with live music from popular bands but unfortunately we didn't make it to either.


Get ready for a messy, inefficient, slow, wild, entertaining, boisterous environment filled with music, dancing, debauchery, art, old, Spanish style architecture and of course, vintage cars. The people are smiling and engaging; alas, beware of hustlers as they are abundant. The poverty is striking and the communist government unavoidable. You will be tempted to buy cigars off the street. If you choose this route, I advise discernment as not all cigars are alike and they know you don't know this. Government shops are your safest bet! So much to do and so little time; make a list before you go. Just don't expect to cross everything off of it... 

  • The four plazas: Plaza de la Central, Plaza Vieja (la Camara Oscura), Plaza de San Francisco, Plaza de Armas (city museum/naval museum). All are absolute must sees.

  • Ride in a vintage car and make sure it's a convertible - as long as there's no foreseeable rain. Everything is negotiable. Do not accept the first price. Doctors in Cuba make an average of $64 A MONTH so keep in mind, every dollar you spend is incredibly valuable.

  • Otherwise, walk as many places as possible. It's the best way to see.

  • Check out Central Park and Parque Almendares.

  • If you run out of clothes and are a diva check out Clandestina. Neither of us encountered these issues but again, we heard good things.

  • Fusterlandia is an artistic quarter. The mosaics are inspired by Gaudi and Picasso. We didn't find it very vast and spent about 10 minutes there...but how involved you get really depends on your style and artistic taste. You'll need a taxi to take you there. Consider checking out Vedado and Miramar on your way.

  • Museo de Ballas Artes is their Fine Arts Museum located in the Cuban section.

  • Walk along Malecón. You'll run right into Hotel Nacional de Cuba where you can have a (super decent) drink while looking out over the sea. We decided to ask a fellow tourist for a picture in front of the wall...and of course, just before he hit the shutter, a huge wave drenched us completely. The lady across the street shook her head and gave us a towel before a strict lecture. "¡Gracias, mama! ¡Somos tontos juntos!"

  • Watch Cuban Olympic boxers train at Boxeo Rafael Trejo (Calle Cuba 815, Old Havana). You won't be disappointed. Say hi to Nardo for us. :)

  • And PLEASE, go to Fabrica de Arte Cubano. It's like Art Basel in a multilevel converted warehouse. Exhibits, dancing, food, music, drinking, shopping: all in one place. It was the most modern place we went to in all of Havana and it had us swooning.


Some tips that might save you...

1. A cab from the airport to old Havana should be no more than 25 CUC. We got messed over and were charged double. They will tell you their cabs are 'metered'...they're not. 

2. There are two currencies in Cuba: the CUC (Cuban Convertible Peso) and the CUP (Cuban Peso). Tourists are given CUC and for the most part that's all you will use and receive. However, on rare occasions, when eating at certain restaurants or purchasing items on the street, locals will ask for CUP or give change in that currency. 25 CUP is equal to 1 CUC. 

3. WIFI is an antiquated thing. You can find it in most parks and very few establishments (La Floridita being one of them). You will need to purchase an ETECSA card. You should only pay 1 CUC for 1 hour however the line at the actual ETECSA building is about 3 hours long. There will be locals loitering trying to sell cards for more. Save your time and pay the extra 1-2 CUCS more. Just make sure the number isn't scratched or affected in any way as many of the cards are faulty.

4. Don't take shortcuts. We learned this the hard way as Jack loves them. Havana however is not quite the grid we thought it was...

5. Old Havana may be touristy but it's the safest, most 'tranquilo' area of Havana. If you want some mayhem, venture out. Just make sure you know how to get back. :) 

6. For your return flight, go to the airport three hours early. Expect long lines, few representatives and a high risk for a delayed flight. You can drink anywhere and everywhere so a bring a few beers for the ride! 

Feel free to shoot me an email or DM on Instagram should you have any questions. I'm always happy to share. 



Paris in 32 Miles

The transition from mountains to high rises was a bit more startling than I expected. Though I'd spent just a couple days in Savoie, I had quickly fallen in love with the landscape, the lifestyle, and those beautiful, little girls. Paris felt gloomy and it didn't help that it was grey, stinky and overpopulated with tourists.


I arrived on Saturday in the evening; I took the train to the metro which dropped me off across the street from Hôtel de Ville (city hall), just a few blocks from my air bnb, a studio in the heart of Le Marais. I face timed with Jack, trying hard not to show my slight feeling of homesickness, before leaving for a bite at a wine bar around the corner.


The spot was called L'Alsacien and it was absolutely wonderful. Almost at full capacity and booming with energy, one of the waitresses found me a seat at the community high top where I squeezed myself between two couples. Suddenly, the lights turned off and we all sang joyeux anniversaire to one of the employees. My mood shifted quickly. The waitress, Naomi, and I became friends almost immediately. She was kind, cheerful and contagious. She suggested a Paradis Meyer glass of wine (which was incredible). I also ordered one of their famous pizzas ; it was basically perfect. My good friend, Lea, joined me in Paris last minute, flying from Fez, Morocco. It was cool and unexpected; we had always talked about experiencing Paris together!


Unfortunately, she became ill with food poisoning leaving me alone to wander on Sunday. I rose slowly, grabbed brunch and walked over to the Bastille where there was a huge flea market filled with Parisian antiques, vintage clothing, accessories, art and home goods. I walked in and out of shops, admiring the eclectic collections.


Next, I walked to the Pantheon where I exercised my terrible tourist skills. I don't like crowds, lines, or masses. I don't like commonality and I can't stand admiring a beautiful object while hundreds of people are taking the same picture of it with a device that was originally designed to make phone calls and send messages. So I stared at it for a while from the outside and watched other people stare at it. I took what I thought was an interesting image of it from a different perspective and then I moved on to the Luxembourg Gardens which I enjoyed thoroughly. The flowers were gorgeous and the sculptures complex, strange and evoking. I sat on a bench, breathing it all in. It was definitely the highlight of my day. I walked down St. Germaine street which I found pretty uninteresting and commercial, though there were some incredible looking restaurants and stores. I crossed the bridge and briefly admired Notre Dame before letting an eighth tourist know (I started counting) that I don't live in Paris and I don't know where 'such and such place is'. I tried not to flip my hair. Merci beaucoup!


I met a Congolese ambassador, Margi, of a restaurant/lounge/bar/dance club on Instagram called Le Comptoir Général. He invited me to a Sunday party where I could have dinner and hang out with the locals. Ecstatic for this opportunity, I took the metro to Gacour and walked through an adorable neighborhood along the Seine to Le Comptoir Général. Margi was hospitable, fast moving and generous. We stepped inside a simple cafe, freshly painted pink and blue. Almost everyone inside was African. We ordered quickly, for me the chicken mate, a traditional west African dish. It was my kind of meal, rich yet light, nutty, tangy; I ate every last bite and followed with a mango, papaya rum drink. We talked about Paris and a photography exhibition at the Louis Vuitton Museum. He told me he had moved to Paris in '86 and was in love; so in love that he had made it his mission to make others fall in love with it too. Later, I sat with his friends in the VIP section (a small, homey area filled with old furniture and African art). We watched professional dancers tear up the dance floor. The people were fashionable, gorgeous and exotic. Hundreds of ethnicities filled the space. Big curly hair was everywhere. Though I didn't speak the language, though I was in a foreign country in a place I'd never been before, I didn't feel different, objectified or alone. It was absolutely wonderful.



Monday was a national holiday, therefore difficult to navigate. It was hard to know what was open, what was closed, what hours were different. Lea and I did our best to go with the flow despite my eagerness and her post food poisoning fatigue. I made a plan the night before so I could cover everything. It was a lot but I am ambitious. Of course, our first stop, an adorable French cafe called Claus, was opening late- 90 minutes past my scheduled time. It was worth it though, the menu provided four options of pre planned coursed out breakfasts. Baguettes, elderflower and apricot jams, eggs, an array of meats and vegetables, espresso, juices and cocktails flew through our table leaving us in total bliss.


The Louvre proved to be a bit of a let down. The line was long and once inside it was packed. We got whiffs of many different (i.e. horrible) smells. It was yet again, difficult to appreciate a piece of art while humans swarmed it like bees trying to capture its beauty on a 1x1, 2 dimensional screen. But we had fun people watching, art gazing, architecture appreciating. Next was the Eiffel Tower which was so much taller and larger than I ever imagined. It was so, so massive. I was stunned. I finally understood why it's a spectacle of the world. Before leaving, we stood before it, staring at it for a while, admiring its beauty (while dozens of people pretended to hold it, hug it, kiss it).



The rest of the day was challenging. Everything on my list was closed, restaurants included. The popular streets I had been recommended weren't their usual bustling selves. We walked miles out of our way to get the best sandwich in the city only to find it was closed. These attempts thankfully led us to quaint, local wine bars and sandwich shops where we had local, authentic experiences and finally delighted in Parisian lifestyle. Thanks, adventure! That evening, after decompressing, we walked a couple blocks to Pain, Vin, Fromage- a hole in the wall gem. We ordered fondue and a plate of goat cheese paired with a half bottle of red wine. It couldn't have been a better way to end our time in Paris.


The next day I wandered Le Marais, popping in and out of boutiques, ending at a popular spot called Merci. Paris had grown on me. There was so much to see, too much for three days. I loved the style, the passion for food and wine, the balance between work and play, the stunning architecture. It was refreshing to see diversity. The people, though arrogant, were friendlier than I expected; 'As you want' was a popular phrase. (What if I don't always know what I want?!)


I decided that I'd grown a lot, being independent in a big, foreign city. I learned more about my likes and dislikes. I made my own choices and didn't have to ask anyone how they felt. I sat with myself listening to my own thoughts. I realized how accustomed I am to adapting, maybe feeling comfortable had more to do with me than with them. However, after all of that, I learned that even when I'm by myself, I'll always find a way to have company. I may not like crowds but I love people. And Paris is a city meant to be shared.


Oh, one last thing. I looked at my Fitbit App at the end of my stay. I walked 32 miles.

Coucou Ma Chérie!

It's not too early to say that this will have been the highlight of my trip, a time I reminisce on for many years to come.


From Geneva, I took the aerobús to the largest town in Savoie called Chambery. There, Loriane, known to me as LoLo, picked me up and drove me just a few minutes to her home in La Mottes-Servolex. I've known LoLo since I was a little girl; she's one of my mom's best friends and as I've gotten older, she has become like a big sister to me. She lives with her beautiful family: her partner, Mass, and two babies, Imany and Izia, in a valley between majestic mountains with a view of The Alps. Their life is spectacular, void of materialism, television, traffic, vanity...the silly things we tend to engross ourselves with in the western world (guilty). They have a beautiful garden and a passion for wine. They frequently take trips to the mountains WITH baby in tow. Need I say more?


Imany, almost 4, doesn't speak any English and I very little French. She was completely unbothered by this seemingly large obstacle and talked to me my entire stay. We ate melon and baguettes together, played Memory and watched Finding Nemo. It was Izia's first birthday and she was the cutest baby I've ever met- smart, expressive and sassy. I instantly fell in love with them both.


In the evening we ate a delicious homemade spinach, onion quiche with a viscous, local white wine called Marestel. I admired LoLo as she effortlessly took care of everyone at once, including herself- so cool, so poised, never complaining. Adult goals. Having not slept much during my trip thus far, and feeling like I was right at home, I passed out for a solid eleven hours. (Needless to say, I'm all caught up now.)


The next day, LoLo took me to a restaurant by the lake with Izia. I ate my first frog leg which tasted like a chicken wing with more flavor. LoLo and I split a bottle of rose while Izia and I feasted on tiramisu. The weather was absolutely stunning. We walked and talked around the lake, Lac du Bourget, the biggest, deepest lake in all of France. It was a clean, crystal blue; I could see to the bottom. People were playing and laughing and walking and lying out.


We picked up Imany from school and played in the yard. Time went by peacefully but much too fast. Dinner was a homemade cake- au chèvre, aux noix et aux raisins (goat cheese, walnuts and raisins) amongst other typical French cakes LoLo had bought from the school fundraiser. It was taste bud heaven. More wine was had, this time red, and we talked about life, personalities, gardening and of course, wine. For Mass' birthday, LoLo had gifted him a case of small bottles to aid in practicing wine smells. We smelled banana and honey amongst others. I guessed all of them wrong.


Even though Mass had worked long hours all week, he offered to take me to Lac Saint-Andre in the morning for sunrise. I borrowed hiking clothes and boots and we set out for the lake at 5:45am. The drive was a light blue, The Alps in front of us the whole time. Mass told me about the mountains and the farms, the vineyards and the lakes. He said he went fishing in early mornings even as a boy. His philosophy of life is inspirational: 'It's important to leave and sleep in the mountains.' 'We want our kids to have this life, outdoors, simple, humble.' 'You must stay on the soil.' (stay down to earth). We sat on a bench by the lake, drinking hot tea, eating honey waffles, as the sun rose above the mountains; Les Belledones in front of us, Le Granier behind us. Ducks slowly emerged from their sleeping chambers while fishermen perched, waiting for a catch.


After LoLo's lovely sister and niece arrived, we went to see Imany at gymnastics. We played some more at home; drank espresso and ate saint genix (a sweet, pink, fresh bread) before LoLo dropped me at the train station, giving me two big kisses goodbye; the saddest goodbye all year.


I'm writing this post from the train now, watching the south of France pass me by, hoping Paris is worth leaving this special family of mine.


Not too much, not too little

I arrived in Copenhagen at 10:30am. The flight was just seven hours and relatively comfortable. I sat next to a lovely, talkative couple, a writer and a sculpture artist. I slept for most of the flight- thanks to my good friend, Drew, who makes tinctures containing herbs and botanicals that aid in various ways (immunity, anxiety, etc); the one I brought with me aiding in sleep.


Upon arrival, I walked out of the terminal to the train where I purchased a train (Oresundstag) ticket to Lund, Sweden. One of my best friends, Moon, lives there and is finishing her graduate degree at Lund University (one of the most prestigious universities in Europe) in human ecology while teaching yoga and learning Swedish. She is brilliant, resourceful and a great inspiration. She also happens to be my half aunt which is a complex dynamic many can't wrap their heads around starting with our closeness in age and difference in appearance (she is blond and blue eyed). Thus, saying we're friends is typically the less complicated choice.


Lund was quiet and charming. We met a few of Moon's classmates at an organic, vegetarian Indian restaurant called Govinda's; where they served us beet salad, lentil soup and yellow curry. The interior was adorable and bustling, humbly decorated with a friendly, joyful staff- a true, local favorite. Once finished eating every last bite of our meals, Moon and her friend, Nora, walked me through the cobblestone streets explaining the history and culture of the little town. We stopped by their historic church and Raja Yoga Lund, where Moonie teaches yoga. They exclaimed that it was the warmest day Lund had seen, coming in hot at 60 degrees Fahrenheit. It felt so strange to see more bikes than cars. I observed that the Swedish people were kind, humble, ethical, careful and uniquely concerned with the greater good. It was refreshing to see a society function efficiently as a whole. Moonie told me of their philosophy called Lagom: a Swedish idea or feeling of not needing to be the best, but to be 'just right'. There is no precise English translation which I find fitting. Lagom indicates balance, just enough, fair share, making sure everyone has food and drink at every table. Swedish contentment...sign me up.


That evening we considered Malmo where they have typical Swedish baths- you lie in a sauna and then jump straight into the Baltic Sea and back and forth. Apparently it's 'a Swedish thing' but I imagine any culture would practice the same routine if they had a sauna overlooking an ocean. We also considered a farmhouse out in the country. Unfortunately both were too far for my one night stay so we decided on another 'Swedish thing' We met with Moon's Chicago born friend, Rachel, at a bar called Inferno. It was packed and lively with an array of beer selections, my favorite being a Danish dark, full-bodied amber called Pistonhead. One of the best lines of the night came when a guy tried to engage with us in a conversation about American politics. In a bitter, condescending tone he said, "I mean really, how do you all feel about your current political state? Do you feel proud?" Moonie looked at him with a sigh and said, "I feel too tired to have this conversation right now." It's so nice to have a friend who says what I'm about to say for me.


That night, after returning home and after Inferno had closed, I realized I left my camera battery charging in the bar. FAIL. I kicked myself until the next morning, when I found a shop that *magically* carried gear for my Fuji. A whopping 449 kronas. So I lied. I'm still kicking myself.


Around 8am, we took the bus into Lundgarden where we stopped for breakfast at a quaint, timeless cafe called St. Jakobs Stenugnsbageri. (Say that three times fast.) The cafe smelled of fresh bread, sugar and coffee and it was nearly impossible to choose just one I chose two, a typical Swedish pastry (essentially a cinnamon roll) and a sandwich made with in house bread. Freakin' delicious. Moonie had just received a prestigious internship at an environmentally conscious firm focused on finance in Korea. Yeah, that's my friend. The mood was happy (besides me still kicking myself over the battery). Leaving wasn't so bitter since Moonie and I will be reuniting again in Amsterdam in just a week. We stopped at the pharmacy for some powerful Swedish vitamins that help protect immunity (Berocca) and spent a few minutes frustrated at the station trying to figure out where and when the train was departing. Moonie told me of the one time she had to catch a 6am train, didn't realize the bus wasn't running that early, grabbed her bike, pedaled fast into town in the dark (but only crashed once!) before barely catching it. She always finds a way. We said our goodbyes before I made my way back to the Copenhagen airport where I took a flight to Geneva, Switzerland.


Europe (solo)

I woke up to a text from my sister a couple months ago, 'Sissy, let's go somewhere!' It was long overdue for us to take a trip. Being a master of my own schedule I suggested May. Like most people with 'real' jobs, this was not feasible for Bryn's schedule. Ho hum.


Curious and excited about the notion of going abroad, I started looking at tickets. I should've known I was tricking myself into something wonderful. I've been itching to visit Europe and so, when I saw a direct flight from Boston to Copenhagen for $169 I was, well...extremely ready to buy it. And just like that, I was planning a 2 week trip to Europe.


I'm traveling to Copenhagen, Lund, Chambery, Paris, Giessen, Amsterdam and London. Sound like a lot? It is and I'm ecstatic. It is such a privilege to visit a foreign place, grow and explore. I'll be visiting family and friends and using the time to reflect on some business ideas that have been brewing. Amazing how time away from the familiar can offer such clarity!


I'll be documenting my trip as much as possible. For now here are some helpful tips that have aided me thus far:



First, I found the best budget airline; be careful here, sometimes cheap is expensive. Some airlines have extreme hidden fees, regulations and/or horrible service leaving you in the dust. Do your research and weigh all options, even the more costly ones.

My choice: Norwegian Air

Second, in order to find the best rates search from major hubs. Austin isn't a big airport, therefore flights are typically more costly than say, Houston. So I looked at flights from New York/Boston/Orlando/Ft Lauderdale/Houston/Dallas into cities like Copenhagen/London/Paris/Barcelona, etc. I tried different variations with the low fare calendar and voila! Boston-Copenhagen for $169 was born. Granted I had to purchase a seat but after that, I didn't come out of pocket a dime.

You're probably wondering how I got to Boston. I took a megabus to Houston, stayed with my grandma a night, then flew to Boston for a mere $65.


Sites to use when booking:




Google ITA Matrix

Voyages-sncf (for trains)



I'm so lucky to be staying with friends and family in Lund, Chambery and Giessen. In the other cities, I'll be staying in air bnbs. I considered a hostel for Amsterdam but because of the time of year most were sold out or egregiously overpriced.

When looking for air bnbs, because of my short amount of time in each city, location was at the top of my priority list. Don't be afraid to scroll through 3 or 4 pages and know that the newer apartments with fewer ratings are going to have the best deals. They're trying to get bookings!



You don't need that much stuff. Keep telling yourself that. You can still be stylish and fabulous with a humble amount! I'm traveling with a small carry on (roller bag) and an oversized purse.


*note* they will weigh your bags collectively, purse included. They require your carry on to equate 10 kilos (which is absurd). Hence:


The attendant at Norwegian Air alerted me that my carry on/purse were 5 kilos overweight and that I would therefore have to check my carry on for an additional *arm and a leg*. You're kidding me, right. I asked her if she planned on weighing me too. "Of course not!" .....I then asked her if I could use the bathroom. I pulled out my handy baggu bag and stuffed what I thought was 5 kilos inside. I strapped the bag to my back, threw my trench coat on (over extra layers) and walked slowly and squarely back to the attendant with a wide smile and a large hunchback. She weighed my bags, a nice 9.2 kilos, stamped my ticket and I was on my way!


My full itinerary:


May 1: bus to Houston (Megabus), stay with grandmother

May 2: fly to Boston (American Airlines), 8 hour layover

May 2: fly to Copenhagen (Norwegian Air)

May 3: train to Lund (TGV)

May 4: fly to Geneva, train to Chambery

May 6: train to Paris (TGV)

May 9: train to Frankfurt (TGV), car to Giessen

May 12: train to Amsterdam (TGV)

May 14: fly to London (easyjet)

May 16: fly to Orlando (Norwegian Air)

May 18: fly to Houston (spirit)

May 19: bus to Austin (Megabus)


I hope my journaling offers you an insight into my love for culture, aesthetic, and doing things frugally yet efficiently. À la prochaine!

Four Seasons, Houston (I did not stay there...just used their bathroom and had an espresso ☺️)

Four Seasons, Houston (I did not stay there...just used their bathroom and had an espresso ☺️)


The market at Eataly  


Seaport in Boston