once twenty.
now almost thirty.
eyes still wide.
always lost.
forever stopping for vino tinto in candlelit hideaways.
travel is falling in love with (your)Self.
intuition or my nose,
turns me right or left, or straight on toward the ocean breeze.
oh, an alley?
how about tapas&wine&jazzy hip hop?
an a homemade chocolate mousse drenched in olive oil and sea salt.
(yes please.)
then a wide view. bright colors. tripping on cobblestones and  always looking up.
i am older now.
still a backpack and crazy knotted hair.
i can hear my dad’s stories – a conch shell & typed letters & (so many) rugby jerseys.
i collect my own stories now.
but still hold tightly to his.

“i am from california.”
am I?
a map that is crumpled and does me absolutely no good in this enchanted city of winding-ness.
rue ____.
that’s me.
i am (bigger)(smaller)(nothing)(everything).

i wanna see it all.

lisboa lisbon portugal travel wanderlust