This is Liberec: a cozy, homey, charming little place surrounded by the Jizera Mountains, sometimes affectionately and other times begrudgingly referred to as the "toilet of the Czech Republic." What they mean by that is it rains a lot here, like the gods are wringing out a wet towel over the city. It seems like the weather is always a topic … Continue reading My New Roots
Signal Festival in Prague for the night to watch pretty lights dance on things. To watch the city come alive and to be challenged in my perspective of the familiar and mundane. The first installation was spellbinding--a psychedelic projection of evil, ambition, and sanctified being against the facade of a church, a perfect church. All of … Continue reading Signal Light Festival in Prague
If you go to Paris, go by bike. The overwhelming mystique of the mostly flat city (with more than 260 bike paths and an excellent bike share program) will unfold before you in a more manageable way. If you're on a budget, as I was, there is no better way to save money while experiencing the Parisian culture and … Continue reading The City of Lights by Bike
There is nothing that compares to the quality of life in the French countryside. My seven days here passed easily. Too quickly. I got lucky, was invited to spend a week with wonderful people and squawking chickens, among vineyards and olive trees, into a home of full bellies and fuller hearts. I slipped into a pattern of living only … Continue reading Feeling Like Family in Montpellier
Marseille is a place of magnetism, made for salty skin and picnics. But I don't know it yet. I'm on a train from Paris to Marseille and I know nothing of the city that awaits me, or the people I will meet. I am drawn here and I don't know why. I know only of my intuition, … Continue reading To See the Sea: The Joys of Marseille
One day in Paris, I decided to go for a walk. It was my second day in Paris, but my first one doesn't count, as the jet lag had me asleep in the top bunk of my hostel until 11pm, when I woke up confused and disheveled. I hadn't slept in 60 hours, a product of … Continue reading One Day in Paris
Joc Cousteau 