Catania. I'm unsure how to say it. Seriously. Do I put the emphasis on the “t”?? Or on the “nia”? I’ve been desperately trying to listen to how people pronounce it, but it seems to vary from person to person. Hmmm... Anyway… the flight from Geneva was relatively drama-free. No significant incidents... except that my phone was dying... but that ALWAYS happens. No big news story there. The flight was far from full... and because of it, I managed to snag myself a window seat.

You won’t believe what happened to me. Most of my blog could start that way. Seriously. ZC and I were exploring Siena the other day... and we happened to come across a local market. It was mostly clothes, plants, and shoes... nothing touristy at all... and no artisan stalls. BUT... I happened to find a hoodie that looked cozy... and it was only €6. Steal of a deal! It was off-white, which isn’t usually my best colour, but for that price… and because it felt so snug, I bou

So our final day in my beloved Florence arrived… and I was already sad to leave the city... but I had no idea it would turn out as rough as it did. Something strange happened to me on my final morning... I got "dizzy." Was it perhaps the cause of excessive amounts of wine window Aperol Spritzes? No. At least I don't think so. My dizzy was not your average “ stood up too fast ” or " overindulged " dizzy... but the full-on spinning room of doom dizzy. Ya. Not fun. During that

WHO hands over their entire financial lifeline over... in Italy... the pickpocket capital of Europe... to a complete stranger?  WHILE I'M STANDING ON THE ROAD DRINKING!!! Me. Apparently, me. I spent the next ten minutes berating myself for committing what might (potentially) be the stupidest mistake of my entire travel career. Rookie move. Classic me.

I was beyond ecstatic to see the Florence Duomo once again. Anyone who’s ever talked to me about travel knows that the Duomo in Florence is one of my all-time favourite places in the world. In fact, I call it one of my “Nessun Dormas.” It fills me with such overwhelming joy and awe that I feel like Pavarotti should appear in the background, belting out the triumphant final chorus of Nessun Dorma. The power of that music perfectly captures what I feel when I see places like t

I caught sight of the pastry counter and motioned to the server that I’d like to take a closer look. You’d think I’d asked to inspect their cash register. He gave me a haughty once-over, then sharply informed me I wasn’t allowed past the second step. Oh... Ok. It felt so unnecessarily cold… completely dismissive. Even the lady inside, behind the counter, could do nothing but glare at me. So… I left. Unmistakenly banished... again.

Today was my birthday. I really hadn’t thought the day through when I decided to book tickets to the Vatican. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable birthday activity. Right? What better thing to do on one's birthday than to go into the most churchiest of churches out there... whilst in the midst of intense jetlag? Now, anyone who’s read my blogs knows how I feel about churches... especially Catholic churches. They annoy me to no end. Why? Because they parade “ s

The 'travelling pro' side of me failed miserably as soon as I reached Termini, one of Rome's main station terminals. When the airporter train arrived, it was time for me to navigate the dreaded Metro. I did consider walking... as it was only 34 minutes to my hotel... but, as I might have mentioned previously, I was too shattered, sticky, and snappy to manage that.

Well… It’s that time again. I’m off. Packed, passport ready, and currently on the train en route to YVR. This one feels a little different, though. Not even a little. A whole lot. First off... I’m poor. Well, if we're being honest... I’m always poor, but this time I’m poor without the usual credit buffer I tend to lean on when I wander abroad. Long story. Banks suck. Actually, I suck — and that’s why the banks suck. But yeah… long story. The summer didn’t pan out on the sid