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Capri and Positano Italy

  The world is full of beautiful places, and as you might expect, my answer is a well-known city, or rather, an island. Capri, Italy, feels like living inside your iPhone camera on full vibrance. Everything is saturated with color and light, almost too perfect to be real. The flowers that spill along the roadsides seem to bloom for you, yellows, pinks, oranges, and deep reds so bold they make rainbows look dull in comparison. The air smells faintly of citrus and sea salt, and the waves that crash against the shore glisten in the sun, the iciest, cleares t bl ue I’ve ever seen. A kind of blue that feels like it only exists here.   The people are kind in that quiet, familiar way, warm, welcoming, but fiercely protective of their island. It’s their pride, their home, their history. And you can’t help but admire them for it. Capri isn’t just where they live, it’s who they are. It’s in their impressions, their way of life, their art, and in their cooking.   And t...
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Washington D.C.

  I sat in the passenger seat, a strange feeling, letting Jake drive my car. I tensed at every tap of the gas and brake, a clear testament to my need for control, especially driving through the chaos of downtown DC. Ambulances and police cars blared past us, their red and blue lights flickering what felt like every ten minutes. A similarity to Baltimore but for a different reason. Pedestrians darted across streets without warning, and cars slowed to admire the beauty of the monuments lining the city.   The city's hectic energy clashed with my constant urge to stay in control, yet beside me, Jake exuded this steady calm that made me feel safe. I turned up the country music, trying to drown out the noise of the city, a city I could see myself calling home one day, maybe in the distant future.   We drove toward Dupont Circle, where our VRBO waited on a quiet corner. Our first little trip together, the first of many, we hoped. On the way, we passed pieces of history: ...
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Salisbury, MD

  I sit in the passenger seat of my mom’s new car, thumping my fingers on my knee to my latest obsession, 'Under the Bridge' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. My mom sings along as we drive east on 50, heading for the place I’ll call home for the next 2 to 3 years. We pass empty fields, endless trees, and small towns dotted along the road. Nothing eye-opening, nothing unique, just another drive to another destination. I should be more excited, thrilled even, that I’ve found the place meant to be my home for the next few years. But I don’t feel it yet, not truly. The reality hasn’t quite set in as we pull into downtown Salisbury, MD, 20 miles from Ocean City, 75 miles from Annapolis, and 132 miles from Norfolk. I look out at the small strip of local businesses that make up the town and sigh, reminding myself that this is the start of my career in broadcasting. The thing I’ve wanted since sophomore year has finally come true, and yet all I feel is numbness. My mom and I start ticking...
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Punta Cana, DR

  The wet heat blinds my senses as I step off the plane into the humid habitat of Punta Cana. I look around, wondering where I’ve just put myself for the next week. Will it be college kid heaven? Or will we be crawling our way out by the end of it? Palm trees line the horizon, and I hear the rapid-fire rhythm of a language I studied for years, one that I still struggle to understand at the speed the Dominican people speak. The language barrier becomes more and more evident, and I realize that my time in South Florida did little to improve my Spanish. We find our way to the bus, where funky, gray-stained shades cover every window. As we settle in, a wave of panic washes over me, one I’ve never felt before while traveling. Fear. I sit on the worn cushions and try to peek out the shades, hoping to catch a glimpse of the island. As we drive, the roads are littered with trash, people sitting along what they consider a highway, and remnants of what used to be homes. The reality of the Ca...
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