It’s in the covered portion of the market that it hits me, what exactly I find so intoxicating about this place. Yes, the fragrance of jasmine and rose blossoms no doubt has something to do with it, but it’s this, too: These are the colors of India.
And, really, couldn’t much the same be said of harmony in travel? Not only staying aware of what notes a place is striking, but conscious of the notes in your own journey as well – two melody lines, two journeys, one beautifully agreeing arrangement.
With that observation pointed out, as simple as it was profound, I realized how easy it is to take this world around me right now for granted. That differences like a candle left burning on a cake are always there; it’s just up to us to stay open and discover them.
Words and photos only tell so much – I love that this video captures sounds, too: the crunch of our boots on the path, the ever-present din of cowbells, and the cheers and claps that often erupt in front of the cathedral in Santiago.
As Aziz leads me farther through the dyers market, I feel a familiar tension coming back. During my time earlier with the blacksmiths, as interested as I was in their work, I couldn’t help asking myself: Are they doing this for me?
Flamenco wasn’t on my list of things to see in Spain. But when a performance unexpectedly started at lunch one day in Madrid, I suddenly couldn’t imagine having left the country without seeing this.
To say I was a little nervous before launching out on a houseboat in the backwaters of Kerala would be an understatement. Everyone says it’s The Thing To Do in this southern Indian state, so I couldn’t help asking a familiar, apprehensive question: Will this be worth it?
“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” — John E. Southard When I think about the fact that this is the fourth year in a row that I’m missing Thanksgiving at home, it’s almost enough to make me throw in the [travel] towel and get … Read More