Touch down in Podgorica Airport. The chill of Eastern European air encourages the hairs on my arm to stand in formation. Small pools of sweat slowly form underneath my black polar-fleece turtleneck after lugging my suitcase across the European continent. We’ve flown from Zurich to Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro, and the sleek Swiss charm…
For the first time on this trip, the cocaine looks unappealing.
“I think I’m over it. I’ll just drink.”
My mood is low -- mind and heart somewhere else, with someone else -- and in this brief moment, not even the exotic evening charms of Isla Mujeres can hold me here. I let my mind…
On training wheels, my older sister used to race me. If she won, she would get an orange-flavoured Chupa Chup. If I won, we would both get an orange-flavoured Chupa Chup.
She always let me win.
At four, or some there-about appropriate age, I was hot off training wheels. But I never got back on…
It was 9:30pm and happy hour had well and truly begun on Mlini – the loud and jovial boat I was allocated on my Sail Croatia tour. Like a stale rickety staircase shrieks at two in the morning, Mlini creaked and clacked. It bobbed atop the salty waters, like an old, well-loved rubber duck in…