France, like many European countries, is a treasure chest of (long) weekend trips, whether you want to explore charming old … More
Isn’t it funny how sometimes we get the biggest warnings for the things, cities, sites we enjoy the most in … More
The three days in this small Atlantic seaside town, three hours from Paris, was exactly what I needed. The mixture … More
Isn’t it funny how we measure our success as travelers in numbers sometimes? How many countries on how many continents, … More
Lyon, France. In the density of city streets the air thickens between the walls of too-close-by houses, walls that cannot … More
Le petit Paris. That’s how they call it, I was said.
Markets, city markets, where everything that can be offered gathers: food, music, people with their voices, products, bargains, styles, street … More
…there is a side where, because of feeling unlimitedly everything in us as it is here and now, we allow the place to touch us in ways it otherwise couldn’t and reveal layers of its own being we’d otherwise ignore.
It’s through them you realize someone’s place in your life, their soul as they say and what this soul can do to you. There’s the beauty and the terror.
There’s a grief and a recovery.
I used to be a local and now I’m an outsider – in a strange, still interconnected way. My top vacation place is now what I used to call my home.
So, I started thinking how and why it sincerely is a place worth visiting.
When you’re focused on that one or a few things you absolutely have to see, then you forget about the fun and the view you might enjoy on the way there.
I remember how I loved the journey, the act of being on the way to somewhere, as a child. It was the moments of observing the world around me I adored so much.
I’ve been too stubborn about it, like a blindfolded hurt buffalo thrusting my way through every relation I had, family, friends or love, it didn’t matter. All they had to know and what I wanted to feel was the eternal I don’t need anybody, any-F*-body, ok?
That’s the thing with travel. The best and the most memorable moments catch and refresh you unexpectedly like a shower of rain on a steamingly hot day.
I’ll never forget that weird Saturday afternoon 8 years ago when I arrived to Paris, alone for the first time…
There is a point in solo-travel when you get uncomfortably nervous.
”This is what happens when you travel.” ”No,” he said. ”This is what happens when you open up.”
Atacama, this is for your gifts.
Maybe it’s usual and something everyone goes through to have a personal crisis about 6 months after you leave home and start a life someplace new…
For me, it is the diversity, the variety, the richness and the serenity in it. No other city has so far fascinated me as much with the infinity of quarters, avenues and parks that I keep discovering, all so very lovely and so individualistic-ly Parisian.
What does traveling or moving to a foreign city/country change? Isn’t it just an escape, a temporary illusion that your problems might resolve themselves there, that you might get to be a better and saner person in another place?
I have to ask: Do you imagine London markets without music? Port Vell in Barcelona? Lisbon or Paris metro? Jardin … More
For if the sense of myself being alive is not about the travels, adventures and experiencing the world in its fullness, what is then?