She might strike you as a “mala mujer” or even a “bruja” (witch): Andalusia will ignite your fantasies, painting them in the fiery hues of those wild, blood-boiling impulses. Too hot to handle in summer, this diva region of Southern Spain is simply smoking hot all year round. Andalusia isn’t a place you visit with a purpose or a strict time frame. Don’t even try to judge her: she’s as intense as the rhythms of her flamenco and as savage as her corridas. At times, she’s mute and arid, but then, so are you. This is a world of simple, raw power, with a gravitational pull so immense it can…
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Of Love and War: the Legend of the Black Rooster
In the ancient land of Tuscany, nestled between the rival cities of Siena and Florence, lay the fertile Chianti region – a coveted prize in a centuries-old territorial feud. For generations, the animosity between the two cities had simmered beneath the Tuscan sun. A white rooster, a black rooster and a grand horse race Desperate to resolve once and for all the question of who rightfully owned Chianti, the leaders of both cities agreed on an unusual solution: a grand horse race. The rules were simple yet unprecedented: two riders would set off at the crowing of a rooster, one from each city, and the point where they met would…
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Bretagne: a Celtic love story
How did we end up with a Crêperie? Our friends already know the story, which, incidentally, became quite famous in the press at the time. However, the true inception is the best part: what exactly is the connection between salted caramel, King Arthur, galettes complètes, island houses, and Celtic dances? One word answer: a wedding. Of course, not just any wedding, but a wedding like no other, held in a water-surrounded hamlet in Brittany. Besides bringing together a wonderful bunch of people scattered all over Europe and uniting a deeply in love couple, the wedding proved the perfect opportunity to step into a story. To be honest, Carnac was already…
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Beautiful is absolute, and so is PENICHE
“One more stop” he said. We were chasing daring lighthouses, pure beaches and wild coastline, as usual. It had been a scorching hot day in August, the kind of day that hushes everything and brings out the light, white houses and white sands surrounded by a shimmering halo, people scarce and wrinkled by sun and dry winds. Coming down from Nazaré along the coast, we had taken an arduous trip inland to see Fátima (grossly overrated) and Batalha (true gem), and were heading to Óbidos for the night. Tired from the heat and the long drive, I was truly looking forward to the cool walls, green ivy, and refreshing chatter of…
