
I once had a teacher who told me that stepping off the plane in Athens, she felt like she was coming home. At the time, I had no idea what she meant and took it for the whimsical reflections of a romantic trapped in the body of my grade 12 French professor – boy was I wrong. You see, at the time I hadn’t yet had that full on feeling of being “in awe”. Travel was foreign to me (pardon the pun) and I wasn’t yet able to understand the pull felt by seasoned voyagers as they leave little bits of themselves in the most obscure corners of the world.