We thought we were lost. This lonely, muddy road didn't look like the way to Hanuman Ghat, a cremation site sacred to Buddhists and Hindus in this ancient city.
They really weren’t lying when they said that there is practically no bad food in Paris.
I picture a Silk Road of plastic light-up toys stretching from Rome to the Pacific, miles and miles of dusty traders handing them off one by one.
“Have you seen the new Devon building?” the man beside me on the airplane questions. I notice the pride in his voice as he points out of the window and into the approaching metro.
As I prepare to return home again this weekend, I know I will find myself biking through the streets one last time, memorizing the face the city wears at this moment.
“Is this your first time going to Alaska?” asked the girl sitting next to me, beaming while she fastened her seatbelt.
According to legend, El Cordobés once told his sister before a crucial fight, “Tonight, either I’ll buy you a house or I’ll dress you in mourning.
When you're studying at a language school like the one I’m at in Bordeaux, you get used to people coming in and out of your life with the coming and going of each week.