Epiphany in Bratislava, capital of independent Slovakia,“Pearl of the Danube,” the once coronation site of Hungarian kings. After Christmas quiet with bits and pieces left for the wise men’s arrival. The last few of the wooden Christmas market stalls and small evergreen trees, a wood-carved nativity in the square. Christmas trees inside of a…
I didn’t realize England had a smell until I came back to it – faint and ancient. Stories and moss. I’m back where everything makes sense, just pressing unpause. Everything is quiet and slow today. I know how to move between these places. There is sun, and I lose myself in routine.
Cambridge is ungraspable, uncontainable. The universe condensed into this small space, streets squeezed and teaming. An explosion. Cobblestones and pavement, the river and the green, the boats and the cows, the history, the High Street. It’s eating gelato on the stone wall and racing on a bike to catch the train to Ely for tea…
Oxford is stone, brown, beige, wide open. Quiet, clean. Bursting with stories. My last short trip exploring before being uprooted from this country. __ The Friday that we finally made the two hour drive from Cambridge to Oxford was grey and cold, the kind of day where it might rain any second, yet later…
Grenen is white, blue, green, light, empty space, spotless sky. Cold sand, violent, clashing sea. A baby seal. A blanket in the sun. End of Denmark, end of the world. ___ Day 2, Skagen, Denmark (Saturday) Grenen, the northernmost tip of Denmark, was a quick, paved ride from Skagen center past heather fields and…
Skagen is bright, white, yellow houses, red. Red roofs, red on the harbor, a red lamp. Old pinewood floors and a pink hydrangea bush. Guitar band and Danish dancing. Those Were the Days. Cool and quiet. Lit-up-see-through-houses at night. Bursts of light. Soft and cold sand is wet. A double rainbow over red roofs…