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Borocay Beach Time
The Philippines is a fascinating country — an archipelago consisting of over seven thousand islands. The main starting point is the capital Manila — a bustling, thriving city that somehow manages to blend a modern business environment with the chaos and confusion that seems to define the streets of many Asian cities.
By Gareth Johnson7 years ago in Wander
Right on Red State: Florida Highways
As of the writing of this article, there are twelve major interstate highways in Florida. We can assure you that we will not be updating this article if any more are built, so don’t try to correct us. Of the twelve, nine interstate highways never leave the state of Florida, which makes one question the meaning of the word interstate. They are Interstates 4, 10, 75, 95, 110, 175, 275, 375, 195, 295, 395, 595. The last eight are just roads the connect the first four, which explains why they don't connect to other states. This leaves one highway, I-4. It technically shouldn't even be part of the Interstate System as it doesn't run through multiple states. This is the first strike against “Interstate” 4.
By Benjamin Hecker7 years ago in Wander
Travel Simplified For Parents
Not long ago, I felt it was apt to give life a dating system. To segment my life into B.C (Before Children) and A.D (After Descendants) seemed a great way to refer to life before and after parenthood. You see most of our perceptions take a turn on entering the parenting world. For example, during the B.C era I, like most human beings reigning the planet, would dive single-handedly at an opportunity to explore and travel. But life changed drastically A.D2010. Forget an escape to the Bahamas, getting out the door was more of a hike to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. Yes, I’d be huffing and puffing, red in the face trying to make that exit. Take this opposed to B.C1, where getting out the door was a breeze.
By Mehreen Tariq7 years ago in Wander
For the Love of Tagine
Welcome to the blue city. There is a four-year-old child clinging to his cat on the steps of his home. The blue tunnels feel like underwater caves and you almost expect sharks and dolphins to weave between the crowds. There is an old lady selling bread- hard, floury, fresh Moroccan khobz, and a flock of animals and their child counterparts run up and try to steal crumby mouthfuls. The smell of leather, incense and cinnamon loom from musty underground doorways. Handmade jewellery and hair oils line doorways and wooden shops and the pavement is cool and dusty. Doesn’t this sound glorious? This is Chefchaouen, in the far dreamy north of Morocco.
By Imogen Kars7 years ago in Wander