Jeremy HildrethCategory Archives: Travel writing: the fun stuff
Why to bother keeping up appearances
I know Ignalina nuclear power plant is scheduled to close at the end of this year. And rationally I know that managing two atomic reactors — even if they are almost identical to the vintage Soviet RBMK-1000s at the heart of the Chernobyl hiccup — and keeping an aquarium have nothing to do with each [...]
Dispatch from Kaliningrad 1: The bridge to Tilsit
Stuck at the Russian border for 6 hours.
Tourist Friendliness 101
One hundred and fifty euros for a Russian visa. Nearly six hours waiting to cross the border at Sovetsk/Tilsit. And 134km from there to the city of Kaliningrad/Königsberg. Königsberg Cathedral is the jewel of what precious little is left here of German architecture — the site the official tourist brochure says to visit first and [...]
Sign of the times?
At the Monaco Grand Prix, Jeremy pays 50 euros for a rum and Coke.
Grits, Green and Graceland
Elvis Presley: corporate identity guru.
Bilbao, Mississippi
Driving from New Orleans to Mobile, I passed this work in progress on the Biloxi waterfront. Directly across from the broad white sand beach and down the main drag from a coming-soon Margaritaville hotel and casino, the construction site really stood out. No surprise why: it’s an art museum designed by Frank Gehry which was [...]
Sights, sounds and flavours
I haven’t read BRAND sense by Martin Lindstrom but the title and theme fell right into the context of place branding for me here in New Orleans as I wandered the French Quarter listening to jazz, eating crawfish pie and gumbo, and drinking Sazerac cocktails (I’m too old for the famous and fru-fru Hurricanes). Can [...]
Cuban origin
People usually tease me when I ask for three sugars in my coffee. “It works better that way,” I insist. There’s no sweeter coffee than a café Cubano, and although obviously the beans don’t come from Cuba (I bet I could write a separate article on the lure of forbidden provenance), the espressos at the [...]
Sao Paulo surprise
Feeling to me like a dangerous, antagonistic, dysutopian Latin edition of Tokyo, this city has failed to much endear itself to yours truly. But while out for jog, this sprang up, and I nabbed it with my cell phone.
Easter Island five days after Easter
This morning I stood with the moai at Ahu Tongariki and watched the sunrise, listening to Stockhausen’s Stimmung on my iPhone. Recommended.
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