So, there I was, in the backseat of a taxi with the Spanish driver and the Middle Eastern passenger in the front seat. It was inconceivable to me that for a majority of the day, this was the only way to travel from Spain to France. I kept trying to ask about this, but each time I spoke the driver would look at me through his rear view mirror, the Middle Eastern man would turn around and stare at me with open curiosity, and they would go back to their conversation. I decided to sit back and enjoy the ride.
And it was enjoyable, for a time. Port Bou is a sleepy, hilly little border town that could be described as cute, in its own way. Border towns fascinate me, especially ones in the EU. No longer called upon to defend or even acknowledge the border, they still have an air of importance about them, a kind of defensive pride that I can’t help but adore.
Then we started ascending the mountain that marked the true border between France and Spain – and I was caught in my own personal nightmare.
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I’m Miss Expatria, the Internet’s leading enabler of travel addiction! But my real name is Christine, and I grew up on the Jers…
Here is a map I drew of my Carrefour supermarket.
Sure, everybody knows Paris. People swoon when you say Paris. But even the French Riviera – which in my experience is the thing that people know the most after Paris – is not nearly as touristed as the many cities in Italy that people feel they “must see”
I just spent the most hallucinatory three hours getting back to Mandrione from Trastevere. Here are some things I witnessed:
So, when I’m in the States my mom and I watch House Hunters and House Hunters International.
Three days on Isla del Sol, in Lake Titicaca; natural beauty and Inca legends
Differences in daily life between Canada and Peru
Iquitos: the largest and most popular jungle destination in Peru
Madrid's Festival of San Isidro has morphed from a religious procession to a full scale arts festival