Second Spire to the Right

Postcards from Travels Past and Present

  • Waking Up in London

    There’s a reason it’s called a red-eye flight. Flying overnight sounds efficient on paper, but the bleary, bewildered haze it induces is almost always inevitable. Perhaps there’s something of a rite of passage, though, in sleepless stumbling around airports that makes the journey feel like a strange dream, and the waking up upon arrival all… Read more

  • The Bold Beauty of Budapest

    Hungary was the first place I’ve ever visited where I didn’t speak one word of the language. The first time I saw a word in Hungarian written out, dauntingly long and heavily consonented, I had a sinking realization that I didn’t know even the most basic of phrases. For months, I had packed as much… Read more

  • Sunset Beach, North Carolina

    Most of us east coasters have some memory of rising to greet the sun on a beach trip. Maybe it’s a girls trip with six crammed into an one-bedroom airbnb. The sunrisers stir awake to the stifled tones of the designated alarm clock. It’s so early, and you’ve of course all been up so late.… Read more

  • Raising a Glass in Central Virginia

    Winding roads, mountain vistas, yawning vineyard hillsides, sandy stucco buildings with terracotta roofs. Are we in Tuscany? Shockingly, no. Virginia wine country. Just a short drive from Charlottesville and the bustling UVA campus, the scenery transforms so drastically you might imagine yourself transported overseas.   The first time I visited this area was after many months… Read more

  • A Moment for Montpelier

    I had another destination in mind to write about this week, but after spending the last few days watching flood footage, I can’t stop thinking of Vermont.  Where to begin with the Green Mountain State? My grandparent’s mountaintop cabin? The family graveyard that holds centuries’ worth of relatives? The college town where I spent two… Read more

  • In Loving Memory

    The text came in somewhere around early morning England time, which was late at night where my family gathered around my grandfather’s deathbed. Just a few days into my third and final term at Oxford, I had spent most of the night laying awake. I think I believed my vigilance could somehow transport me across… Read more

Photo Source: Jessica Tucker

Welcome! I’m Erin, a freelance writer, former teacher, and forever student. Thanks for stopping by. Follow along on Instagram @secondspiretotheright

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