About Noel Lee

Noel is likely to be found dozing, a Calvin and Hobbes treasury propped over her face for warmth and anonymity. Occasionally, though, she starts awake, drenched in existential sweat at probably wasting her youth in the supine, getting old, slowly dying, etc. One such crisis prompted an application to Let’s Go––Noel covers Switzerland and Northern Italy.
2 08, 2016
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The Subtle Snorer

By and large, I’ve had tremendous luck with hostel roommates (most notably in Milan with a trio of British bicyclists who pranced inside, moist and Spandex-ed, and proceeded to strip and otherwise strew their beautiful selves throughout the room). Sure, there were the disappointed-in-my-lack-of-Korean-skills sulkers and that one guy (not of the British set) who simply refused to put on a shirt, but no one homicidal, kleptomaniac, insane, or, most importantly, of that [...]

19 07, 2016
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Far Too Much Exposition, Followed By a Pause

Day 29 on the job. En route to Genoa, the maritime town of questionable touristic interest, from clifftop stunner Cinque Terre. Couple that just boarded at Monterosso is very couple-y. Girl is currently dusting boy’s nose with curiously squelchy butterfly smooches. Oh look, they’re playing that sweet eyelash fluttering game I used to play with my mother—one childhood memory forever tainted by the rampant instinct to procreate. Good sir, your leggy lady is [...]

3 07, 2016
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Yes, Ma, I’m Alive and (Feebly) Kicking

Scene: Noel, ever craving Chipotle and generally elusive in the blogosphere (apologies to the delightful people who care), heretofore the confounder of mammalian expectations for rarely sweating and being (relatively) hairless (traits that make for the ideal backpacker in that she can wear the same shirt for days without offensive odors [theoretically, anyway] and the same shorts for days without offensive stubble), simmers slowly on high, airless, soon-to-be-on-strike Italian train heat.   Beads [...]

30 06, 2016
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A Letter to Juliet, Composed While Gazing at Her Illustrious Right Boob

Dear Juliet, You Poor Sap: I’ve passed through the tunnel of graffiti love notes – unharmed by tottering human towers attempting to immortalize their romances on the clean wall higher up – and stand before you in your courtyard, beneath literature’s most famous balcony. Well, I stand before a bronze statue of you (proof of your existence!) at the ancestral home of the Dal Cappello family (Cappello, Capulet – same diff) redecorated with [...]

22 06, 2016
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Top Five Couples Loving it Up in Venice

Sure, there’s the standard tour group of old people made practically asexual by age, sporting identical fanny packs and crisping bald spots, or the odd loner nursing a glass of spritz at the end of the bar (that’d be yours truly), but by and large, Venice is inundated with couples of the following varieties: 1) Hot-blooded Youths – Local teens from the mainland on a day trip, bringing their hormones where Mom can’t [...]

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