The Grand Place in Brussels,Ā Belgium, is encircledĀ by two larger buildings and the lavish Baroque guildhalls of the former Brussels Guilds, St, Patrick’s 2026 The morning arrived cool and bright ā about 51Ā°F ā the kind of crisp Brussels air that feels freshly washed, as if the city...
I slipped out of Amsterdam the way one leaves a dream ā slowly, reluctantly, and with the faint suspicion that Iād forgotten something important, like my sense of direction or the last line of a poem. The canals shimmered in the morning light, each one a ribbon of memory I wasnāt quite...
Heading out of Amsterdam this morning and making my way south toward Brussels. Iāll follow the A16, stopping in Breda to fill up the petrol tank before crossing the border into Belgium. Iām turning the drive into a little adventure with a few stops along the way: š§ Gouda Iāll swing...
I woke up on my first full day in Amsterdam with that familiar mix of excitement and mild confusion ā the kind that comes from sleeping in a new bed and remembering, only after a few seconds, that youāre not at home and the day ahead is entirely yours. Outside, the city was already in...
Thereās waking up on a ferryā¦ and then thereās waking up on a ferry when youāve splurged on a proper cabin. I opened my eyes slowly, stretched across a bed that didnāt fold out of a wall, and thought, Yes. This is the version of me I aspire to be. For a blissful moment, I forgot I was...
Thereās nothing quite like stepping out your front door in Waternish knowing you wonāt see it again for four weeks. Four weeks! Thatās practically an odyssey by modern standards. Odysseus had sirens and sea monsters; I have Google Maps, a boot full of snacks, and the faint suspicion Iāve...
Skye ā Newcastle ā Amsterdam ā Brussels ā Hamburg ā Copenhagen ā Oslo ā Bergen ā and Back Planning a long road trip isnāt about drawing a straight line on a map. Itās about understanding where effort belongs, where to slow down, and where logistics quietly matter more than scenery. A...
No one asks the strong if they’re tired.No one wondershow havey the weight has become,how many nightsthey’ve drowned quietly in their ownbreath,how often they’ve wantedsomeone – anyone –to notice without having to scream.But maybe that’s the curse of...