As I step out of my hotel room and into the streets, I can already feel the energy consuming and thereafter rising through me, like vapor mounting towards the skies in a midsummer’s day.
The cobblestones pounding beneath my heels and I feel alive. Alive because for the first time, I’m free. Free to walk, talk and feel whenever and however I want to. You’re in a foreign place. Can you feel it too? That sensation that allows one to really be oneself without the slightest judgment deriving from someone you may know. The crisp smell of a burning Galouise distracts me, and then I see it before me. EVERYTHING. Time is at a delicious standstill and I smile. I open up my black umbrella as the cool droplets pour down from the sky, now an authentic shade of gray and I begin to stroll through the streets, alone. A spring to my stride because I know, that in this weather and in this city, everything has the ability to feel like home.