We were sitting at home this gorgeous Father’s Day morning, talking about our Dads … and wondering what they would think of our handiwork on our recent home renovation.
What drew us to one of Madrid’s busiest plazas was the attractive turn-of-the-century Palicio de Cibeles. This gleaming-white Gothic revival beauty is among the city’s best-known landmarks and is home to the City Council.
We may not admit it, but we all do it. Go ahead and say it: “I watch tons of those cute Youtube videos.” You know the ones: kittens swatting pit bulls on the nose; puppies doing tail spins on throw rugs; and baby goats – well, doing just about anything.
It was 5:30 am and already I heard the sound. The whoosh-whoosh of the gardener’s broom told me he was nearby, capturing errant leaves that dared to fall overnight.
Singapore’s equatorial heat and humidity weren’t helping in our search for lunch in the Little India neighborhood. Nor was the traffic buzzing by on the noisy Serangoon Road.
Our crowded bus rolled across the undulating plains north of Belgrade, Serbia, on its way to Subotica. We were looking forward to the city’s Art Nouveau architecture, but unlike us, most of the other passengers onboard could expect nothing more than an uncertain future and the dream of a better and safer life in Europe.
In all our years of travel we’ve learned that no matter where we are on the globe, we can rarely predict what’s going to come out of a child’s mouth … especially if we’re holding a camera. And there’s the joy.