It was my birthday— the  actual day that I turned fifty. We planned to visit Antibes to shop at the open market and then peruse the Picasso Museum.  We were trying to be thrifty by using the train, but, after a fire alarm went off and a large French security guard yelled in his thick accent, “Lad-iessss, get out! Firrre! Get out!” we called an Uber. It was my birthday, after all, and we didn’t need to die before the day even started. The driver dropped us off at the market

Sometimes travel stops time. It’s like life hits pause just for you. Sometimes travel stops time. It’s like life hits pause just for you. That’s what happened to me my first night in Spain somewhere between jet lag, tapas, and the rhythmic stomping of a flamenco dancer’s feet. The Flamenco Dancer I arrived in Spain on a Friday morning, having not slept for almost two days. I decided to grab a coffee and breakfast at a corner café. The girl behind the counter had long sun-

There are two types of travelers…those who talk on planes, and those who don’t !  I was running late- big shocker, I know. I’d...