Who knew Baltimore would be so much fun? Much of the credit goes to my indefatigable host. We hit the ground running Friday afternoon, leaving a pomegranate hookah, not a few beers, some local rosé, a blond-pompadoured magician-bartender, two VIP bracelets and some visiting soccer coaches in our wake.
I heart the people, the history, the bars (magic + cocktails = :D), the food, the vibe.
Even the Mulberry Street hostel--a ridiculous bargain at $26.10 a night--was more Amelie than Barton Fink.
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One seasoned resident warned me to stay out of alleys. Dangerous, she pronounced. As soon as I had time on Saturday, I headed right out to find me an alley.
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