The immigration officer is polite and apologetic but what he’s asking doesn’t change. “Please, miss, I’m going to have to ask you to disembark.” Continue reading “Last Legs: Gap Year Week 36”
When we’re stuck in a traffic jam leaving Ljubljana, hugging a highway curve along with hundreds of other annoyed cars, I send a picture of our next destination to a friend of mine.
damnn, he texts. it’s like something from tolkien Continue reading “Mountains in the Mist: Gap Year Week 34, Part 2”