Into the Desert

I grew up with snowy winters, wet springs, humid summers, and crisp autumns, and until very recently had only spent two weeks of my life in any climate much different than that of New England. Nova Scotia and Scotland, I would say, do not have any weather which might be challenging to a New Englander, … Continue reading Into the Desert


The regional trains to Sighișoara are older models; wear on each surface fighting hard to preempt undoing by any future restoration efforts. Entire families fill each cabin, making the journey north from Brașov to the villages dotted along the train’s route. The cabins occupy most of the carriage’s already-narrow width, with only a single corridor along one side, barely wide enough to walk along without coming into contact with windows, doors, walls, or other passengers. My ticket had no seat marked on it, so I wandered down to one of the few openable windows and prepared myself for a few hours of standing. Continue reading “Trainsylvania”