I was caught in a circus show, where the bus driver was the director, whipping the audience into place, making them jump through hoops in order to be seated on a tiny pedestal. The hoops were the baggage regulations and the mood was rather sour. Germans can be quite strict and that includes bus travel […]
Just got off the plane of my WOW Air flight from Germany and headed straight to my Airbnb in Toronto’s Little Portugal. Of course, my itchy feet wouldn’t allow much rest and trying to beat the jetlag, I went out again. Getting here was a piece of cake. At Pearson Airport, I bought a UP […]
I started travelling as a kind of self-healing process. Facing into an abyss of depression, crying myself to sleep nightly and losing all drive and ambition except for surviving the day was not how I had pictured my glorious life as a graduate.
“Your ticket,” he was blurting out his words at me. Again? I just gave him my ticket. What receipt should I put into my taxes folder if the Bosnian bus driver took that one as well? He just looked at me with daggers in his eyes. He was a no nonsense man.