I've been back from India for about month now, and am feeling more conflicted than ever. So, following the usual tradition of confused Jewish college students, I head to the Holy Land.
I return to Southern India, this time to escape the bustle of life, work, and school in Luxembourg. Searching for some quiet inspiration, I head to the beaches of Goa.
I am writing this from the lobby of a small hotel in downtown Fairbanks. It’s just after 4 am, but I’m awake from jet-lag and the tireless Alaskan sunshine which never quite sets.
My train left Como this morning, speeding south on its way to Perugia. I transferred in Milan and again in Florence, but chose to stay on the train, preferring the quiet solitude of a small town over the bustling cities.
Valletta is a gigantic peninsula-shaped stone that juts out into the bay. It almost has the feel of walking the length of a massive ship, albeit one lined with handsome British tea houses, Italian cafes, and roman ruins.
Lisa, Paula, and I are in Jamaica for 10 days. They flew in separately from Germany and I from NY. Time moves slowly here. Things take time. A lot of time.