Euphoria. I felt it across my whole face, I felt it stinging my eyes and promising to roll down my cheeks. It was everywhere in these few days of travel, laced through the streets, in the bitter air and under the unfamiliar sky.
Yesterday morning, before the rest of the city had awoken, we crawled into a cab destined for the airport to leave this place behind. There was little to say, partly because the bitter cold had cruelly stolen the air from our lungs and partly because it was much too early. Yet, the feeling of content still lingered, wrapping itself tightly around my body and warming me. Traveling, next city or half way across the world, feels familiarly brilliant. I hope it always does, whether on a rooftop, by the sea, in a far away hotel room or cold, dark cab on some unknown road. I'll never not love this feeling.