For every wanderlust person out there, there is a place they wish to visit more than any other. The “one day I’ll go there” place. It’s ok if you never go to a lot of cities and countries, but that one you must absolutely go at some point. It’s fundamental, if nothing else, because it’s a dream.
For me, that place was Disney World, in Orlando. Continue reading “Disney Orlando: Dreams do come true”
I always believed that. For me, in fact, those people who feel the urge to come back home after some time away were some kind of a mystery to me. Why be so attached to a specific place when the world is so big and full of other things to see and live? It doesn’t make any sense. Continue reading “Brussels: Home is where your heart is”
The Caffè Nero on Great George Street was completely crowded, so the miracle that I found a free stool by the window was not lost in me. I was feeling pretty lucky that day. I had visited the Trafalgar Square and the London Eye and was sipping hot chocolate with the most beautiful view available: the Big Ben. Continue reading “London and the Big Bang thought”
My eyes were tightly closed while I felt the metallic rumble under my feet. A hundred thousand million people made this ascent before, I kept telling myself like a mantra while feeling a hysterical wave of panic trying to engulf my heart. A hundred thousand million people, maybe more. Don’t panic, please don’t panic. Continue reading “Paris: The view from the top of the Eiffel Tower”
When I went to Portillo (Chile), a ski resort up in the mountains, two hours away from the main airport, Arturo Merino Benitez (located in Santiago), I knew that skiing would be an amazing experience. I had never done it before, and I admit – it wasn’t on my priority list of things-to-do-before-I-die. But this freelance journalistic opportunity came up and, by the time I processed everything, I was flying to Chile. And I was excited to learn how to ski. Continue reading “Portillo and the art of letting go”