Trogir – D Travels 'Round

The days after death

“These feelings won’t go away … they’ve been knocking me sideways …” For the two days after Grandma died, I walked around in a haze. Numb. Listening to the same song on repeat for 12 hours and not once getting sick of it, not once singing along. It was just background to my grief. “There’sContinue reading “The days after death”

Love, life and loss … while on the road

On September 13, 2010 at 6:15 a.m. EST the world lost an amazing woman, my grandmother. She died in her sleep and in no pain, surrounded by her husband, her son and his wife, and her daughter, my mom. And I was thousands and thousands of miles away. I knew it would happen. The possibilityContinue reading “Love, life and loss … while on the road”

Backtracking

I pulled up hostel after hostel, bus schedule after bus schedule, as I sat on my bunk bed in Zadar. I had wanted to go up the coast to the Istria region of Croatia, to hop some islands before I boarded my flight from Zadar to Frankfurt, and from Frankfurt to Washington, DC. No hostels.Continue reading “Backtracking”

Realization

I never imagined my brain would tell me I wanted to go home. Early. But, it did that night in Split. I had 10 days left of my trip. Originally, and for months, I had planned on extending my adventure, heading to Spain (for the sixth time), back to Merida to see my friends andContinue reading “Realization”

The new roommate

That’s when I saw Him on the street below. He caught my eye immediately. Perfect height (I’d probably recon around 5’9 or so). Perfect weight (the right blend between athletic and non-athletic). And completely different from the typical guy.

He wore plaid shorts, a dark shirt and shiny gold-framed sunglasses. He had a healthy serving of tattoos on his arms and legs, and a lip ring hooped through the middle of his bottom lip. His brown hair was cropped close to his head.

There was no way he was staying at Fulir. He just didn’t fit the mold of a typical backpack-hostel-goer. But, he walked up the ancient, red colored stairs, pulled a key out of his pocket and walked through the yellow painted door into the room I was staying in. When he walked in I caught a glimpse of a tattoo peaking through his hair on the back of his head and melted just a little bit.