I didn’t know much about Colombia’s baddest city other than what Narcos is bring back to life, but Medellin has stepped it’s game up so much, it’s outdoing a lot of major hotspots when it comes to cool.
I didn’t know much about Colombia’s baddest city other than what Narcos is bring back to life, but Medellin has stepped it’s game up so much, it’s outdoing a lot of major hotspots when it comes to cool.
There’s always a post or an article or an e-book about how to live a life filled with travel, but I think it may come down to why some people have lives more peppered with travel than others do.
Sometimes travel isn’t about seeing everything. Sometimes it’s just about slowing down. About letting a place passively become a part of your life, even if it’s just for a few days.
Eating might be one of my greatest loves—new food, home food, strange food (I recently ate a termite in Belize)—I’ll take it all. Happily. But eating local food, to me, is the truest way to a country’s soul. In China, what did it for me was the dumplings.
I’m finally back, back in Cali, Cali.
Or home, as it should be. But home is a funny thing when you’re me. When someone asks where I’m from, my eyes glaze over while I decide how to launch into the list of places I call home
Home is where the heart is…right? Well what if your heart is all over the world? Then would home be wherever your stuff is? Maybe you don’t have stuff, or are traveling with all of it. So would home be where your family lives? Sigh. Who knows. I suspect I have not found home yet; haven’t found one place where my heart is. But I fear that is an impossible feat, as I have dispersed little fractions of my heart on six different continents. As I walked the streets of Toronto and the Daniels signage blatantly bawled my name, I…