I had to come home to remember how to feel out of place.
I’m at home in the souk of El Jadida, talking to bouncers in Riga, and arriving in Yangon without a clue. I was comfortable on the streets of a city 99% said is… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Weekday Wanderlust
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Sometimes there’s dance in the current.
Tonight is penultimate night’s eve, 48 hours from now I’ll be surrounded by people trying to sleep on a red-eye flight to Mexico City, too bored with the miracle of flight to look… Continue reading
