The wax is dripping off this candelabra and spattering onto the table like paint from a clumsy artist’s brush. I cowered into this pub to escape the drizzle and was pleasantly greeted by a perfect pen-to-paper, candlelit atmosphere. I haven’t had the energy or desire since I’ve been here to tourist-it-up. Instead, I’ve been perfectly content simply dublin’in around this tiny, big city and looking in on all its McPubs leaking banjos, fiddles and Guinness out the cracks.
A best friend of a best friend (a mutual best friend?) lives in Brussels. I contacted her before my trip in hopes of popping by Belgium and maybe grabbing a waffle together. Instead, she was kind enough to invite me to stay at her house*.
It’s always fun to go places you know nothing about. Everything surprises you. Childlike wonder in seeing the world and how amazing it is for the first time. Joy from the simplest things.
So Kelly and I shift to Santorini. Hands-down, full throttle. S-curve roads to Ancient Thira, black beaches, red beaches, volcanic ash beaches. Every city is like the snow cap on a mountain top from afar, and a blinding white inferno from aclose. Renting that ATV on this island was the best travel decision we’ve made in our 15 countries together.