About Amy Laughinghouse

"If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it, too?" Well, probably, Mom--if I thought it would make a good story...and if I was sure the bungee cord was tied on really, REALLY tightly. To that end, and to my mother's chagrin, I've paraglided 007-style in the Swiss Alps, walked with lions in Mauritius, swum with sharks in French Polynesia, dangled from chains on Scotland's Fife Coastal Path, and--my most terrifying challenge ever--taken ballroom dance lessons in London. (Fortunately, that's the only incident that nearly ended in a bloodbath). As a London-based globetrotting freelancer (and natural coward attempting to conquer my fears through my travel adventures), I've contributed stories to Qantas Airlines' in-flight magazine, Australia's Vacations and Travel magazine, The Irish Times, The Scotsman, The New York Post, The Toronto Star, The Toronto Globe and Mail, The Dallas Morning News, The Houston Chronicle, and Virtuoso Life magazine, among other publications. Beyond travel, I've written about historic homes for BRITAIN magazine, and I previously worked as a television news producer in the Cayman Islands, as a freelancer for People and Teen People magazines, and as a regular contributor to Better Homes and Gardens and other architectural magazines while living in the U.S. I also wrote "The Orvis Book of Cabins," which was published by The Lyons Press.


View all posts by Amy Laughinghouse

Drink Pink…Gin Cocktails, That Is

The world looks better, the ubiquitous “they” say, when viewed through rose coloured glasses. That’s especially apt when your glass is filled with Pink Gin.

pink gin with a strawberry in glass

Image courtesy Angostura

Ironically, the rosy blush of this optimistic elixir is due to a dash or two of Angostura aromatic “bitters.” In 1848, a Royal Navy ship surgeon added a few drops to a jigger of gin to help assuage seasickness…and folks have been happily sailing three sheets to the wind ever since.

Here’s how to create your own Angostura Pink Gin cocktail. (more…)

Essaouira: Morocco’s Exotic Beach Town

Discover the Funky Cool Medina of This Breezy Boho City

The colorful kites of kite surfers float in a bright blue sky above a herd of camels trekking along Essaouira’s sandy beach. Copyright Amy Laughinghouse.Baked by the North African sun and buffeted by a persistent ocean breeze, the Moroccan coastal city of Essaouira lies about three hours west of Marrakesh. But its wave-lashed walled medina, wedged between the wild and windy Atlantic and an arc of modern suburbs, seems to exist in a parallel universe that transcends geographical boundaries.

Essaouira is an improbable mishmash of ancient Arabic and Berber culture, groovy surfer dude vibes, and 21stcentury Boho chic. It’s a mix of bustling souks and high-end art galleries, fishing shacks and sushi bars, traditional hammams and detox yoga retreats…the sort of place where you can take a camel ride on the beach in the morning and visit the organic Val d’Argan winery in the afternoon.

Shops line the Skala de la Kasbah in Essaouira’s medina. Copyright Amy Laughinghouse.

Shops line the Skala de la Kasbah in Essaouira’s medina.

(more…)

A 007-style Adventure in the Swiss Alps

“Okay, get ready. Run!” Heart pounding, I heed the command, leaning forward as I break into a jog, feeling the hot breath of a stranger on my neck. Seconds later, as my orange-and-white paraglider catches the breeze, I’m like a cartoon character treading thin air.

Paragliding in swiss alpsThe rolling foothills of the Alps quickly recede beneath me, and the palm-sweating terror I felt just moments ago is replaced with goggle-eyed awe. As the silent pilot strapped in behind me maneuvers us towards an updraft, following a pair of circling hawks, the only sound I hear is the wind rushing in my ears.

At 7,500 feet above the chilly blue-green waters of Lake Thun, the quaint Alpine chalets below resemble Monopoly houses on a field of velvet, and my feet dangle above–ABOVE!–snowcapped peaks. Glancing down, I feel as if I’m orbiting the earth in a swing.

Just as I’m beginning to feel at home in my airborne perch, strapped atop the lap of a blue-eyed enigma who holds my life in his hands, he motions to the right. There, fifty yards away, another paraglider has swooped alongside–and he is SHOOTING at us. (more…)

Next page →
← Previous page