Wanderlust

The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it. ~ Rudyard Kipling

Scent slings me to foreign shores …

Roasted chestnuts in Paris.

Festive oliebollen in Holland.

Pungent eucalypts of Australia.

Istanbul?

Bitter coffee black as death, pistachio baklava, honey-glazed fingers that swiftly find my mouth, and Bosphorus spray on Galata bridge.

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