On a trip to San Diego in early June, I happily discovered that there is a lot more to “America’s Finest City” than the sailors and the zoo.
I’ve been transported, not to paradise, but the next best thing in the lower–48: Palm Springs.
It’s your last night in Paris, and until this point, you were happy to not have Internet on your cell. TMI…damn wifi at this fancy pants hotel. Yesterday, you moved across the river to Saint Germain, an area of Paris famous for it’s rich intellectual history, rich shopping and of course, a certain sweet liqueur that blends nicely with Champaign.
It’s late morning in London and the first thing you notice is how heavy and delicious the air is, as compared to Denver. Zooming past a myriad of billboard ads along the highway from London Heathow Airport, the buildings start to twist into neighborhoods with knotty roads and brick chimneys lined up like dominos. Checking in at the Waldorf London Hotel, you politely ask the concierge to lend you an umbrella, and venture out into the streets, groggy from the flight, but thankful to rediscover your legs.
What would attract an urban gay couple to an Arkansas vacation? Years ago, some friends told us about Eureka Springs, an improbable gay mecca in the Ozarks.
Colorado’s hot springs industry has been steaming for years and continues to be a tranquil and detoxifying way to rejuvenate the body and soul.
Geological waters roughly 30,000 feet below the earth’s surface are pumped into hundreds of hot springs across the state, giving travelers a wave of options on where to relax and unwind.
Who needs Europe or Mexico when a relaxing and tranquil vacation awaits Denverites at a quarter of the cost right in our own backyard?
I used to think that New England was reserved for wealthy, J. Crew model-type co-eds and women named Fifi carrying dogs named Muffy. “Oh Charles, more Chambord, please, and do tell the girls they have tennis lessons precisely at 5 p.m. I won’t have them losing to Foxcroft again.” Note: This is the appropriate moment for you to roll your eyes.
My very first business trip as a 21 year-old sales and marketing analyst landed me on a top floor of the Copley Square Marriott, Back Bay Boston, MA. An entirely company-funded trip? I felt like I had arrived.
The city’s many visiting gays and lesbians are often drawn to Seattle’s LGBT hub, Capitol Hill. Students, dot-comers, latter-day hippies, and young families of all persuasions live in this lofty neighborhood, a 20-minute walk or short cab ride east of downtown.