"Travel" Chapters (2/4)

Chapter 15 of Nomad Life

Clouds sculpted from beige stone billowed up the altarpiece toward the heavens as a bevy of <i>putti</i> and angels floated through the air and around a robed Saint Peter. Gold was not just present, but pervasive. Baroque designs framed columns, windows, and a pulpit overlooking the altar, all of which were ornamented with gilded sculptures, carvings, and stucco. A pyramid levitating high above Saint Peter emanated rays of gold, piercing the clouds of rock and reflecting flickering candlelight. Overhead, a fresco depicting Christ crowning The Virgin Mary as Queen of Heaven covered the interior of the church’s turreted dome...

Chapter 14 of Nomad Life

Šibenik’s coastline was vast, the sea flowing through inlets and channels around dozens of tiny islands in the distance. Even from the 1000-year-old fort atop the hill in the old town, I was unsure if I could see open water on the horizon or if another layer of islands lay beyond...

Chapter 13 of Nomad Life

“Good luck,” the customs agent croaked, handing Shelby our passports through the car window. He had bushy, black eyebrows and a protruding chin. Skutull sat in the back, leaning his entire body against the seat. His eyes mindlessly tracked the customs agent without moving his head. He looked bored out of his mind...

Chapter 12 of Nomad Life

Rain fell from the night sky—more than a spittle, but less than a downpour—adding volume to the streams already flowing through the streets of Ljubljana. We stood under an awning at the train station, debating whether we should brave the 15-minute walk to our apartment or take a cab. I knew the city well and was confident I could route us...

Chapter 11 of Nomad Life

Rain fell from the night sky—more than a spittle, but less than a downpour—adding volume to the streams already flowing through the streets of Ljubljana. We stood under an awning at the train station, debating whether we should brave the 15-minute walk to our apartment or take a cab. I knew the city well and was confident I could route us...

Chapter 10 of Nomad Life

I drank our remaining oat milk from the carton while looking out over the Main River in Frankfurt one last time. The sunrise was orange and already bikers were funneling onto the river path below. The main train station was a fifteen-minute drive from our apartment. We still had forty-five minutes until...