The Wayward Passports
In the summer of 1973, my husband and I were traveling in Greece and Turkey. From Ankara, we took regularly scheduled buses south to Konya, home of the Whirling Dervishes and further south, to the Read more
In the summer of 1973, my husband and I were traveling in Greece and Turkey. From Ankara, we took regularly scheduled buses south to Konya, home of the Whirling Dervishes and further south, to the Read more
The horses were ridden by young men who took pride in their churning of dust and wild yelps as they flailed their whips. The smells of the bazaar, dust, dung, and humanity, hung in the Read more
The only glow in the room was the blue light from my Kindle. As I read, a tingle went up my spine. As I traveled up the Tekes Valley, I had watched the signs from Read more