Photo: C messier via Wikimedia Commons. License: CC BY-SA 4.o O lovely red mullet, Anna said to the fish as Vassilis of the scraggly eyebrows in the agora, Chaniá’s covered market, held it up for her to inspect, cleaned and ready to wrap in paper once she agreed on...
Photo: Ibai1984 via Wikimedia Commons. License: CC BY-SA 4.0 We’re hiking 25km uphill in a downpour and Mom’s in a mood. Day three on the Camino. No matter what sort of scale the map shows for our route, the reality of the elements doesn’t hit us until it really hits...
Photo: Barcex via Wikimedia Commons. License: CC BY-SA 3.0 On the night I turned twenty-one, I was studying abroad in Segovia to conquer Spanish, once and for all, and I was walking back from the Plaza Mayor to my flat, a half-mile away, or a kilometer, whatever that...
They say the mountain people on the island of Crete still measure the walking distance from village to village in the number of cigarettes a man smokes while walking. I don’t smoke. I’m an American ex-pat who gets by driving a cab. I don’t know how many...
Photo by Prosthetic Head – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0 At almost 22 years old, I still hadn’t had a real boyfriend. My love life up to that point consisted of unrequited crushes, celebrity obsessions, and a few random hook-ups, my virginity zapped by a guy who’d told...
I imagined the festival – scenic whirl on the great wheel,holding hands and swiveling to watch the white corona reflect in Baltic waters beneath the Hörnbrücke. I believedoutside our window keelboats would compass us to city center, where we would dance through...
