If you asked me eight years ago why I decided to leave home and be a flight attendant (oh god, I’m that old), my answer would simply be Paris. All I ever wanted was to see the Eiffel Tower, feast on some crepes and sip Bordeaux. I’m a simple woman.
Eight years later, you’d think I’d be over it and finally decide living out of my suitcase gets old. Actually the opposite. Every time I tick each box of cities I’ve stumbled into, that imaginary list surprisingly grows longer. It’s like every city I wander in, brings me closer to another I haven’t been to and I just can’t stop—if that makes sense.
It’s a big, beautiful world. Why stop?