El Celler de can Roca
“I always decide,” I said. “Where would you like to go?” “Back to Spain,” said Magellan. A few weeks later he announced, “I’ve been emailing
“I always decide,” I said. “Where would you like to go?” “Back to Spain,” said Magellan. A few weeks later he announced, “I’ve been emailing
“Dad, can you come over, right now?” That may have been what Kendra said when she called. But she’s a fifth-generation Newfoundlander, so it’s more
A small dot on a small map created by our small hotel. That’s how we discovered Chef Davide Carreri at Zaza, the best restaurant among
O-sa-KA! O(h) we’d like to return. A realization we came to while there. Japan’s culinary capital, the country’s rebel, Osaka is an exclamation of colour,
“I guess this is what we eat for lunch,” said Magellan. “And this is what we drink,” I said as one of the Mayan women,
In Bhutan in the back seat of a Santa Fe SUV, our bodies gently swayed from side to side, kneaded by road bumps. “Massage roads,”
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