Most people remember the feeling of hot sand between their toes and salty water in their eyes. They talk about touring world-renowned galleries, or seeing that famous landmark that adorns travel brochures and souvenir shot-glasses. They laugh when recalling sketchy hostels with squeaky, lumpy bunk-beds that only costed £9 a night (what do you expect?!)
Believe me, I have those memories.
But my favourite ones, by far, are the tastes. The “I Had Heaven in My Mouth” memories that excite my salivary glands just thinking about them. The ones that make me want to spend $900 on a flight so I can relive that experience once again.
I may enjoy the moment, the ride, the sights and the sounds, but it all boils down to this: I come for the food. Continue reading