For whatever reason, it didn’t occur to me when wandering my way onto the ferry from my sleepy Spanish surf town that when I wandered off things would be much different. So landing in Tangier, Morocco, was a bit of an assault on my world. Port cities are never really great (Belfast), and Tangier appeared to be no exception, although it grew on me in the fleeting moments of my time there. Continue reading This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.
From Porto, I took the train down the Lisbon, but went directly to Sinta for the weekend. The town is 40 minutes outside the city center towards the coast. Very touristy place, but more space to hike around and see some palaces, castles, coasts, and beautiful homes. Rumor has it that Madonna just bought a place here, so how bad could it be? Continue reading We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away.