It was less a story than a prayer. For this place that had seized me to remain pure, to become constant, so that I could return one day and find its place in my heart still intact.
Read More
a blog by Julia Escano
It was less a story than a prayer. For this place that had seized me to remain pure, to become constant, so that I could return one day and find its place in my heart still intact.
Read MoreThey went on for kilometers, appearing at every turn, dip, and rise on the road. There were dozens of them, standing like sentinels against the sea.
Read MoreWe stood at the back of a jeep and clung on for dear life as it nosedived into steep slopes and bounced around the rolling terrain. All the while, sand flew around us and caked us in a thin layer of sand-sweat icing.
Read More