-2.3 C
Nice, France
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
  Cruseilles, France - On a steep, narrow country road at 1,150 meters above sea level, my travel partner accelerated the engine aiming at the waggish sound of alpine bells.  As herdsmen rallied the cows to graze on the undulating...

THE DOROTHY IN ME

To be in a place where I have never been.   This was my friend’s dreamful answer, Marco Giovanni Battistotti, when I came to ask him a naïve question one solitary afternoon on the fabled island of Langkawi. His candid fanciful vision...
I would really like, in fact, to be born again in another two hundred years' time." Anyone who has read Alessandro Manzoni, Milan’s eloquent native son in his compelling 18th century novel “The Betrothed” or “I Promessi Sposi” as endearingly...
Between the sea of crushed sapphires and under the piercing azure sky, Pierre Gruneberg, puts on his iconic conical straw hat and stretches out one of his hands in the air, as if running his palm on an invisible...
  Through the large glass paneled windows blurred by the cold mist of the Andalusian winter, the clip-clop of well-shod hooves from the carriage horses striking the solid cobblestones streams in muffled and mellow. Dialogue swells across the dusty tavern...
  The strong smell of black coffee, served in a plastic cup no bigger than a shot glass startled me from my deep slumber.   As one flight attendant pushed the cart forward, tightly squeezing it along the narrow neon-lit aisle while...

WHEN IN CEBU

  There was nothing but the gentle lapping, splashing and sedating sound of the waves, and the occasional cry of a passing gaff-rigged motorboat or the crisp April zephyr blowing from the shore of Punta Engaño on the Island of...
The train heading to the city center whizzes by after halting for a few seconds at the Kuala Lumpur Central Station. Echoing from a distance, one can still hear the rumbling of the engines like an ominous thunder in...
Winter is like of my neighbor’s receding hairline. Its decline is subtle and gradual. Inconspicuous from day to day. Yet, while seasons regenerate and are renewed by annual equinoxes, his crowning glory showed no signs of recovery. Sitting at the...
“You don’t wake up in the morning with the sound of a boorish alarm clock like a cat that’s hit by a pan. You don’t scuttle, walk like a zombie and hurriedly go downstairs for a sip of coffee...

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