Finding pieces of identity, scattered throughout the German capital like pieces of the old wall.
Instead of thinking about the shit storm that was 2016, I’m just gonna reminisce about all the cool places I got to visit! Hooray for navel-gazing oblivion!
As winter sets in, I’m still dreaming about literary icons and meet-cutes among the iconic cafes and sights of the Adriatic Coast.
Everyone knows about airport layovers. That block of time that’s usually too short for you to leave the airport and see the city you’re in, meaning you have to make do entertaining yourself with overpriced chain restaurants, books off the New York Times bestseller list, duty-free shops, and maybe choreographing a dance routine on the moving sidewalk.
Some people want to travel forever, but after a month and a half of country-hopping, I am more than happy to be back home in Poland.
What are men compared to rocks and mountains and selfies? -Elizabeth Bennett, probably The last time I hiked the Rilke trail from Duino to Sistiana, I was too distracted by cute boys (and the excitement of being abroad for the first time, but mostly cute boys) to truly appreciate the scenery. And by “appreciate the… Continue reading Rocks and mountains and selfies and muscle memory
Today I left Barcelona, spent six hours in Bologna, then took a train to Trieste, where I took my first little steps on international land almost 10 years ago. Picture this: a baby-faced, somewhat-skinnier version of me with short, Veronica Mars-esque hair let loose in the northeastern Italian countryside with other international high schoolers and no… Continue reading Getting lost on the Adriatic