Posts in category ”Travel destinations”
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Looking for pizza in Naples
Naples is a city that doesn’t give a damn what you think. It’s chaotic, gritty and full of garbage. The kind of place where chaos isn’t a bug, it’s a feature.
Along medieval alleys in Tallinn
Tallinn is a postcard wrapped in barbed wire. Picture-perfect medieval towers cast shadows on crumbling Soviet-era blocks. You sip your overpriced coffee in a fairy-tale square, while the KGB museum down the road reminds you that fairy tales often come with a body count.
Hill of Crosses
Northern Lithuania whispers through birch trees, footsteps on gravel, the hush of old grief. Then I get to this place, just outside Šiauliai, and the whispers become a scream. A silent kind of scream. Welcome to the Hill of Crosses.
Returning to Riga
Riga doesn’t change much. The skyline is still tangled in spires and Soviet leftovers, and the Daugava river still cuts through it all like an old scar. But every time I come back, I realize that maybe it’s me who’s changing.
The legacy of Bulgaria
There’s something about Bulgaria that doesn’t give a damn what you think. Tucked away in the southeastern folds of Europe, it’s the kind of place that’s been stomped on, fought over and forgotten more times than anyone can count. But it endures. Scrappy, proud, and wonderfully weird.
Tales of Kosovo
There are places the guidebooks skip. Places too complicated, too scarred, too damn real for neat little top-ten lists or instagram filters. Kosovo is one of those places.
Finding tranquility in Ohrid
There are places that demand your attention with neon signs and cheap cocktails. Ohrid isn’t one of them. Compared to the busy streets of Skopje, the lakeside town of Ohrid is a haven of tranquility.
Wind of change in Macedonia
There’s a strange wind that blows through the Balkans. Not the kind that rustles leaves and cools your neck in the heat. This one carries the weight of empires, the smoke of old battles and the stubborn dreams of people who refuse to vanish.
The bunkers of Albania
Albania is a country that’s learned to live with its scars in plain sight. Scattered across the landscape like some twisted dystopian crop are a staggering amount of concrete bunkers, derelict relics of a madman’s obsession. They dot the hillsides, line the beaches and haunt the city parks.
Summer in Bohemia
Prague doesn’t do subtle. It hits you in the face with drama, drowns you in cheap beer and whispers questionable suggestions in your ear as the Vltava rolls on beneath centuries of blood and poetry. If you’re into beautiful architecture, rowdy crowds and mainstream debauchery, then welcome to the show.