"love"

I’ve been sighing a lot in London lately. I often talk about how much I love this city on this blog; I wrote a whole post about why it deserves every bit of that love, just over a year ago. In that post, I cited the things to do, the galleries, the people, the restaurants, the markets. And I still stand by every word of that post. From Broadway Market to Saatchi Gallery, to afternoon tea and early morning raves, I’m more in love with this city than ever.

But we all know what love is like. It starts off like fireworks, all oohs and aahs, lust and passion. If we’re lucky, that feeling stays for a while. If we’re really lucky, that feeling stays forever.

Photos of one of my favourite cities in the world. And how could it not be one of my favourites, with bangers and mash, graffiti proposals, and snow globes the size of a house?

“What do you got under there?” The man asked me. The tone was lascivious. I doubted he would have asked the question in the same way if it were a man sitting behind the wheel, but perhaps he would have, I don’t know.

“A V8,” I responded, hardly taking my eyes off the road in front of me.

Tel Aviv, Israel I was never one of those little girls who dreamt of their wedding day or who came up with the names of their unborn children. That is not to…

Cartagena, Colombia Cartagena, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love your pink sunsets and blue walls, your orange fruits and green drinks. I love your sleepy chihuahuas…

In a way, travel relationships, whether they last for days or for years, start off just like any other relationship. Your eyes meet across a bar full of young and sun-tanned backpackers, you smile at each other over the noise of a street festival, you complain together about the heat or the slow Internet or how long you’ve been waiting for the bus. He’s from South Africa or Sweden, Turkey or Australia, but it doesn’t matter; he’s not from where you’re from.