I have been told I have a sweet tooth.[1] And while my dentist may not love that about me, Gent[2] appreciates me for who I am. Gent, and Belgium as a whole, is a treasure trove of fantastic foods – fries, waffles, chocolate, just to name a few. Gent specifically, though, is home to a number of . . .
The land of cheese and (stroop)wafels
I don’t typically identify as a “cheese person.” I enjoy a good cheese plate like anyone else, and I go wild for a good grilled cheese sandwich, but I’m more of an opportunistic cheese-lover. That said – I did go to Gouda almost exclusively because of cheese. Not only was I intrigued by the . . .
Listen, the ice cream was just sitting there
I’ve found that I associate my time in places with certain words – perhaps feelings or vibes, but always incredibly vague and very much a reflection of my limited time in each place. In Germany, it was orderly – a cliché, yes, but true nonetheless. Kenya was warm – not just for . . .
Google Maps lets us all down sometimes
Germany intrigued me – mainly for the train system, if I’m being honest, but also for the people. Not so much for the beer - sacrilege, I know. I went from Berlin, where my interest was largely historical, to Hamburg and its canals, and ended in Cologne for the cologne, obviously[1]. And I did . . .
Profound melodrama a day late
It’s officially been four years since my dad died. I last publicly talked about it probably just over three years ago.[1] After he died, I spent hours sifting through blogs, poetry, books - anything to find people who understand, who could tell me it would be alright. I wanted to know how they . . .
Sir Lindsay will joust for toast
The morning had started out cool, clear, and crisp, only made better by a pleasantly brisk jaunt through Krakow’s morning bustle. Plus, I had spotted not one, not three, but five nun sightings in the last two days, including one at night with two nuns slipping into a building that I . . .
Escalators to Heaven, Stairways to Hell
My relationship with Poland was rough from the get-go. I had spent the entirety of my time in Gdansk in an increasingly frantic state of panic, as I attempted to navigate the humid streets to find the bus station that turned out to be on the other side of an underground tunnel, which also . . .
I’m not fishing for compliments…yet.
I love street art (or graffiti, whatever you choose to call it). I could get deep about it and describe the way that street connects the city to itself, to its people, to its tourists, to the history. It’s like taking the pulse of the city. BUT, one of my favorite things about it – that sounds . . .
A mountain goat I am not
I’ve been ready for quicksand since before I even knew where I could find it. I’m pretty sure every little kid who has watched cartoons, or The Princess Bride, is. Because, really, who knows where it could pop up?! Apparently in Bergen, Norway. On Mt. Floyen. Next to a bunch of goats. Never . . .
Edinburgh – (Re)Starting with a Bang
It’s been three years since I started this blog, and almost as long since I’ve updated it, too. I like to think that I’ve stayed pretty busy in the interim. I’ve graduated from the University of St Andrews, with a degree in International Relations, and hopefully better writing skills. I've moved to . . .