Interests · Wanderlust
Travel is how I keep my mind open. Every place I go rearranges something in me — how I see, what I assume, what I believe is possible. I’ve been lucky to wander far; a few that have never left me:
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My favorite, and I don’t expect that to change. Canals and bicycles and a certain unhurried freedom; the light on the water, the way the whole city trusts you to find your own way through it. I could return a hundred times and never be finished.
For the way it slows time nearly to a stop — terraced green, incense and offerings, a spirituality woven into the most ordinary moments. It rearranged my sense of what a day is supposed to feel like.
Late dinners and longer conversations, art and architecture that argue with the sky. A country that has perfected the art of savoring a life rather than rushing through one.
Vertical, electric, relentless in the best possible way — a city that feels like the future arguing with tradition. I loved its sheer ambition.
Athens especially, where you can rest your hand on the very foundations of Western thought — history you don’t just read about, but stand inside. And the islands, where the light does things I still can’t explain.
Water so clear it doesn’t look real, and the rare, restoring peace of doing absolutely nothing, and doing it well.
I could go for days — honestly, I’ve loved them all. The next flight is always half-booked in the back of my mind.
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