Launched just before I moved to Asia, Feminist Footprints has three missions: to share what I have learned and experienced in my two decades of solo travel around the world, to highlight the lives and travel experiences of other women, and to shine a spotlight on women artists, activists, intellectuals, and issues that grab my attention.

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A Girl. A Boy. An Island.

For centuries, Cuba's greatest resource has been its people~~~Pico Iyer Heat gets into your bones in a different way than the cold does. Cold seeps in particle by particle until it shakes you, curls you in upon yourself in self-defense. Heat on the other hand envelopes you, comforts you, lulls you into a false sense of safety, as if you were back in the womb until suddenly a sheen forms, moisture gathers, becomes droplets, and you begin sweating as if you’re involuntarily starring in your own ice bucket challenge but with boiling water. In my case, when I am cold, I become a little sleepy and crave the cheer of a pretty sweater, my favorite gray vintage 1970s cape, and the sweet embrace of a

Cheaper by the Dozen

“Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.” ~~~Gustav Flaubert I am not rich. I have never been rich and for most of my adult life I have exclaimed, “I will never be rich but I will always be okay.” Okay means different things to different people---especially depending on where you live. In 2003, on my NYC bartending salary, okay should have just been OK. Any other person tending bar in NYC in a mid-sized Mexican restaurant would have been just okay, but because of my legendary, freakish budgeting/saving skills, I was good, maybe even great. (For more on how I roll budget wise check out my article “Savings, Thy Name is Sexy".) I applied my budgeta

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