Tag Page LayoverThoughts

The City Was Bright. I Felt Small.

I had a layover in Valletta. Three hours, maybe four. I wandered the streets, jetlagged and out of place, tracing my fingers along limestone walls that looked sunburnt and permanent. The colors—yellow, blue, green—felt like someone else’s memory, not mine. I kept thinking: everyone says travel is supposed to make you feel alive. But mostly, I felt like a ghost, floating past balconies and laundry lines, wishing I could belong to a place for longer than a layover. I took a hundred photos. I posted none. The city was stunning. I was just passing through. #Travel #LayoverThoughts #TravelLoneliness