A playlist of my favorite romantic, melancholy driving songs.
Reminiscing on visiting Casa Vicens in Barcelona.
Last October, a journalist in Malta was killed by car bomb. Last December, I went to Malta and took too many selfies. Oh, and did you hear about this election?
I distinctly remember connecting to this line in The Great Gatsby, but it's really just an excuse for the basic af fall photos. Don't worry, no pumpkin spice lattes.
The low-hanging fog had other plans. Instead of gorgeous, sun-saturated bright hues, there was a white haze and constant drizzle that made it impossible to get an 'Gram-worthy shots, but instead made the whole place feel like a magical forest of mystery and wonder.
“Ser uno mismo es, siempre, llegar a ser ese otro que somos y que llevamos escondido en nuestro interior, más que nada como promesa o posibilidad de ser.”
When summer vacation feels like a dream you read about in a poem.
How to find murals in Wrocław's hippest neighborhood, with a bit of a social justice rant, because of course, don't you know who I am?
Today I was up just after the sun, trudging through my going-away party hangover to spend the whole day in airplanes and airports, in a state somewhere between sleeping and awake. I got to Stockholm around 6 p.m., ate dinner, then went out to meet a friend. I left a bar on the South Islands …
May 1 in Poland is Labor Day, a vestige from Communism that people don't want to give up just yet, and May 3 is Constitution Day, so I decided to take my extra two days to visit Łódź, the city where my grandmother is from, and Kalisz, the town where my grandfather was from. I …