Spring is for the Irresponsible

It’s an odd feeling that whenever I am at home in Arad, I also unavoidably feel like a tourist too: since I have not spent considerable stretches of non-holiday time here for a decade or so, I do not have a data plan on my phone, so I keep hunting wi-fi connections. Needless to say,…

The River of My Dreams

  I have those moments of great weakness (usually at the very end of summer, right after having returned from some sunny Mediterranean island) when I start waxing lyrical about how I love the sea, even in the tragic circumstance of having been born spectacularly far from any such body of water, and being, if…