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Globetrotting

What Time Is It?

The streets were bright tonight — so much so that it seemed like it was daytime. It might as well have been. I’m not sure what time it is. All I know is: It’s evening here in Japan and we’re going to grab something to eat.

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Globetrotting

Why do we travel?

“Would you the chicken or pasta?” the steward asks passengers. I begin to shake at the prospect of airline food. It’s one of the world’s true atrocities. Honestly, who else can make a strawberry taste bad?

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Globetrotting

Farewell Italia

I think it’s fair to judge the success of a trip by how sad you are to go home. I think this as I stand on a bus that will take me across the tarmac of Florence’s airport to the airplane that is waiting for me. And, I don’t want to go home, but go home I must.