{
    "version": "https:\/\/jsonfeed.org\/version\/1.1",
    "title": "Walking with me",
    "_rss_description": "This is a travel journal about moving through the world slowly and honestly.\r\nI don’t collect landmarks or chase checklists. I walk — through cities, villages, landscapes, conversations, and moments that don’t fit into guidebooks.\r\nThis blog is about places as they are lived, not as they are advertised. About getting lost, changing direction, staying longer than planned, and noticing what usually slips by.\r\nSome stories happen on the road. Some happen inside.\r\nIf you’re curious about the world beyond postcards — walk with me.",
    "_rss_language": "en",
    "_itunes_email": "",
    "_itunes_categories_xml": "",
    "_itunes_image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/userpic\/userpic-square@2x.jpg?1768315598",
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    "home_page_url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/",
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    "icon": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/userpic\/userpic@2x.jpg?1768315598",
    "authors": [
        {
            "name": "by Nick Walker",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/",
            "avatar": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/userpic\/userpic@2x.jpg?1768315598"
        }
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        {
            "id": "70",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/lost-in-transit-a-boston-sports-bar-hiding-in-tenerife-airport\/",
            "title": "Lost in Transit. A Boston Sports Bar Hiding in Tenerife Airport",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1575-2.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"565\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>There’s something deeply confusing and oddly comforting about stumbling into O’Learys Bar & Restaurant inside Tenerife South Airport. One minute you’re surrounded by sunburnt tourists clutching inflatable flamingos, and the next you’ve walked straight into what feels like a <a href=\"all\/boston-ma-a-wasteland-of-wonders\/\">Boston<\/a> sports bar that took a wrong turn somewhere over the Atlantic. Dark wood, big screens, the faint promise of burgers bigger than your carry-on allowance it’s like <a href=\"all\/essex-ma-boat-trip-margaritas-sand-and-sea-tales\/\">Massachusetts<\/a> decided to open a holiday home in the Canaries and invite every football fan along for the ride.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2838.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8918.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8919.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>The funny part is, O’Learys didn’t just appear here by accident. It actually started as a Swedish love letter to Boston’s sports culture, yes, <a href=\"tags\/sweden\/\">Sweden<\/a>. The founders were so taken by the atmosphere of American sports bars that they recreated it back home, naming it after a Bostonian character and leaning hard into that East Coast vibe. Fast forward, and now you’ve got this gloriously out-of-place slice of Americana greeting you before your flight, serving up wings and beers to people who still have sand between their toes. It’s chaotic, it’s comforting, and honestly, it’s the perfect place to sit down, question your life choices, and order “just one more” before boarding is inevitably announced.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3978.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"440\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "Somewhere between beach mode and boarding gates, a Boston-style sports bar appears out of nowhere. From Swedish roots to Canary Island chaos, this unexpected airport stop turns layovers into a strangely comforting adventure of burgers, beers, and big screens.",
            "date_published": "2023-03-03T16:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-03-30T15:07:30+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Africa",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1575-2.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 03 Mar 2023 16:00:00 +0200",
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                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3978.jpeg"
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        },
        {
            "id": "69",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/milan-steam-dreams-a-very-italian-soak\/",
            "title": "Milan Steam Dreams: A Very Italian Soak",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2601.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Milan has a reputation for sharp suits, sharper cheekbones, and people who somehow look runway-ready while buying bread, so naturally I showed up looking like a confused tourist with a backpack and an urgent need for a hot pool. Tucked behind ancient brick arches that look like they’ve seen a few centuries of gossip, I found myself waist-deep in steaming thermal water while the winter air tried (and failed) to intimidate us. There’s something deeply dramatic about lounging in a bubbling outdoor spa in Italy while mist swirls around Roman-looking walls and perfectly groomed Milanese locals pretend they’re not checking each other out. I attempted a graceful descent into the pool and instead performed a small but memorable splash, immediately announcing my presence like an overexcited dolphin. Within minutes, though, I was fully committed to the art of doing absolutely nothing—leaning against the warm stone, watching clouds of steam drift upward, and wondering why all important life decisions can’t be made while half-submerged in 38-degree bliss. Milan may be the capital of fashion, but that afternoon it was the capital of doing nothing in the most stylish way possible, and honestly, I’ve never felt more Italian.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A relaxing winter spa escape in Milan, Italy featuring outdoor thermal pools, historic brick arches, and a stylishly steamy Italian wellness experience.",
            "date_published": "2023-01-06T17:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-03-30T14:46:20+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Italy",
                "One Photo at a Time",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2601.jpeg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 06 Jan 2023 17:00:00 +0200",
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            "_rss_guid": "69",
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        {
            "id": "68",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/diamonds-daydreams-and-a-giant-with-good-taste-a-sparkling-stop\/",
            "title": "Diamonds, Daydreams, and a Giant with Good Taste: A Sparkling Stop in Wattens",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2527_sign.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>There are places that whisper culture. There are places that shout history. And then there’s Swarovski Crystal Worlds in Wattens — which greets you with a giant grass-covered head shooting a waterfall out of its mouth like it just swallowed the Alps and needs to cool down. You don’t simply “arrive” here. You stare. You blink. You check if the coffee earlier was stronger than advertised. And then you grin, because this is already the most glamorous lawn ornament you’ve ever seen. Inside, it’s less museum and more crystal-powered fever dream. Rooms sparkle like a disco ball had an existential crisis and decided to pursue fine art. One minute you’re walking through a chandelier jungle, the next you’re face-to-face with a horse made of light and ambition. Everything glitters. Even your thoughts start to shimmer.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3319458896982\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2532.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2535.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>The deeper you wander, the more it feels like stepping inside a jewelry box designed by someone who definitely believes in magic. There are mirrors that multiply you into a small army of slightly overdressed explorers, installations that twinkle in ways that make you question gravity, and quiet corners where the crystals glow softly, as if they’re in on a very shiny secret. Outside, the gardens stretch calmly around the Giant, all peaceful and Alpine, as if to say, “Yes, we too are fabulous, but in a more understated way.” Leaving feels like exiting a dream where everything was polished to perfection — including your mood. You walk back into the real world half-expecting ordinary streetlights to sparkle a little harder. They don’t, of course. But for a while, you do.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_2552.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1080\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "Visit Swarovski Crystal Worlds in Wattens, Austria - a surreal museum of art, light, and sparkling installations. Discover the iconic Giant, immersive crystal chambers, and magical alpine gardens in this playful travel story.",
            "date_published": "2022-12-28T17:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-17T16:19:41+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Austria",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2527_sign.jpeg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Wed, 28 Dec 2022 17:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "67",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/kreuzjoch-above-the-clouds\/",
            "title": "Kreuzjoch Above the Clouds",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2385_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Bluebird skies, dramatic rock faces, and that first chairlift ride into a winter fairytale. Up at Kreuzjoch, the world felt unreal—frosted trees below, jagged peaks above, and clouds rolling through the valley like slow-motion waves. I came for snowboarding… but stayed for the views that made me forget to blink.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2304.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2305.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2319.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Dropping into fresh December snow with the Austrian Alps flexing in every direction? Unreal. One minute you’re carving smooth groomers, the next you’re floating above a sea of clouds like you accidentally unlocked a secret level. Legs shaking, face frozen, grin permanent. Worth it. Every. Single. Turn.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2412.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2413.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2415.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2416.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>From gondola rides through misty pine forests to panoramic ridgelines overlooking the valley below – pure alpine magic. Snowboard strapped, playlist on, gravity doing its thing. If winter had a headquarters, it would definitely be here.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"2.969837587007\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2427.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"431\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3336.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"441\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2457.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"466\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Low clouds drifting, peaks playing hide-and-seek, and that dramatic alpine backdrop turning every run into a movie scene. One second it’s full whiteout vibes, the next the mountain reveals itself like, “Surprise. I’m epic.”<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_2383.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n<p>Carving past skiers, snow spraying behind, that smooth whoosh sound under the board—pure winter rhythm. Cold fingers, warm adrenaline, and zero regrets about checking the weather at 6am.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2455.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2456.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2457.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"466\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2496.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2497.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>By the end of the day, legs toasted, camera roll full, and heart completely recharged. Kreuzjoch didn’t just deliver a snowboard session, it delivered a core memory wrapped in snow and sky.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_2411.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "Snowboarding at Kreuzjoch in December with epic alpine views, fresh powder, and panoramic scenery above the clouds in the Austrian Alps. A winter adventure filled with adrenaline and breathtaking mountain landscapes.",
            "date_published": "2022-12-24T15:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-17T15:16:31+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Austria",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2385_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sat, 24 Dec 2022 15:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "66",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/berlin-and-one-very-confident-fox\/",
            "title": "Berlin and One Very Confident Fox",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1834_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Berlin greeted us like an old friend who insists on showing you absolutely everything at once. One minute we were wandering past chunky industrial pipes that looked like they’d been borrowed from a giant’s Lego set, the next we were staring up at a church squeezed between modern buildings as if it had politely refused to move with the times. And then, because this is Berlin, a fox casually trotted across the street like it had a dinner reservation. Not a metaphorical fox. An actual, fluffy, city-dwelling fox. It glanced at us with the calm superiority of someone who clearly pays no rent and still owns the neighborhood.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1836.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1837.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Around Alexanderplatz, the TV tower pierced the sky with its shiny disco-ball top, keeping watch over the city like a futuristic lighthouse. We drifted between street musicians, coffee stops, and wide plazas that felt both gritty and grand. Inside the Aquadom, fish swirled in a giant cylindrical aquarium so hypnotic we stood there far longer than planned, noses practically pressed to the glass. Berlin felt alive in the most comforting way — a mix of old stones, bold steel, unexpected wildlife, and quiet corners that made you slow down and smile for no particular reason.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_1833.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1080\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A travel story from Berlin featuring Alexanderplatz, the TV tower, city churches, industrial pipes, a wild fox on the streets, and the iconic Aquadom aquarium.",
            "date_published": "2022-10-18T15:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-16T14:43:56+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Germany",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1834_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Tue, 18 Oct 2022 15:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "65",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/reykjavik-calm-skies-colorful-roofs-a-date-with-giants\/",
            "title": "Reykjavik: Calm Skies, Colorful Roofs & A Date With Giants",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1038_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>We landed at Keflavík expecting Iceland to slap us in the face with dramatic weather… and instead it just smiled politely. Calm skies, soft light, not a single strand of hair out of place. I felt slightly cheated. Where was the cinematic chaos? The lava fields around the airport stretched out quietly, covered in moss like a very patient alien carpet. Even the giant metal egg sculpture outside looked peaceful, perched on its rocks like it had finally found inner balance. Iceland, apparently, can do zen.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0960.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0971.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0978.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>In the center of Reykjavik stands Hallgrímskirkja — the church that looks like a basalt rocket ship decided to settle down and become holy. It rises sharply above the city, all geometric drama and Nordic confidence. From its steps, the rooftops below spill out in bright reds, blues, and greens, stacking toward the horizon as if the houses themselves are trying to climb up and join the church at the top. It’s architectural ambition in full color. I stood there taking photos I absolutely did not need more of, convinced each one was “the best angle yet.”<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1030.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1032.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1033.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1036.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1038.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0980.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0992.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1023.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1025.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1071.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1541.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>From above, Reykjavik looks like someone carefully arranged a set of pastel toy houses beside a silver-blue ocean. Mountains stretch across the background with the calm authority of something that has existed long before Instagram. Compared to the tidy waterfront charm of <a href=\"\/tags\/denmark\/\">Denmark<\/a>, the polished islands of <a href=\"\/tags\/sweden\/\">Sweden<\/a>, Reykjavik feels wilder — not messy, just unapologetically raw. It’s like the cool Nordic cousin who hikes volcanoes for fun.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1100.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1107.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1147.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1151.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1173.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1235.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1241.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1092.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_1227.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n<p>The waterfront was almost suspiciously calm. The sea lay flat and reflective, boats resting in the harbor like they were meditating. No crashing waves. No dramatic spray. Just a smooth North Atlantic surface pretending it was completely harmless. Walking along the water, you get that quiet sense that something big is out there. Not loud. Not obvious. Just… waiting.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1255.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1282.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1335-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1354-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_1359.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n<p>Which is how I ended up zipped into a bright survival suit on a speedboat that looked way too excited about open water. We headed out smoothly — no bouncing chaos, just slicing across glassy sea. Reykjavik shrank behind us, colorful and neat against the mountains. Everyone on board was scanning the horizon like amateur marine biologists with smartphones.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_1361.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1374.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1385.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1395.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1404.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1415.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Then it happened. A minke whale surfaced first — sleek, dark, subtle. It rolled through the water like it had somewhere important to be. Not flashy. Just efficient. A few minutes later, white-beaked dolphins appeared, playful and fast, riding alongside the boat as if we were part of their daily commute. They twisted and darted through the wake, clearly showing off.<br \/>\nAnd then came the heavyweight champion: a humpback whale. You could tell immediately from the slow, powerful arch of its back. It surfaced with zero urgency, like it knew we’d been waiting. Water streamed off its skin as it lifted that iconic tail — the dramatic fluke that photographers dream about — and then it slipped back under the surface as calmly as it arrived. No chaos. No splashy Hollywood moment. Just pure, quiet power.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1439.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1442.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1496.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/IMG_1521.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n<p>Back on land, the whale exhibition felt like stepping inside the ocean’s memory. Suspended in cool blue light hung a life-sized blue whale model — the largest animal to have ever lived. Standing beneath it is humbling in a way that sneaks up on you. Out on the water, whales feel mysterious and fleeting. In the exhibition, they’re monumental, almost overwhelming. You look up, and your brain struggles to process how something that size moves so gracefully through the sea.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1554.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1556.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1562.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1563.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1566.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1568.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Reykjavik surprised me. No dramatic wind. No battle with the elements. Just calm skies, colorful rooftops, glassy water, and giants surfacing quietly beside our boat. <a href=\"tags\/italy\/\">Italy<\/a> may have cozy harbors, the Netherlands its storybook canals — but Iceland? Iceland keeps its magic just beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1177.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"308\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "Exciting Reykjavik travel story featuring arrival at Keflavik Airport, Hallgrímskirkja church, colorful city views, scenic waterfront walks, and an unforgettable speedboat whale watching tour with minke whales, white-beaked dolphins, humpback whales, plus a blue whale exhibition in Iceland.",
            "date_published": "2022-09-17T18:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-14T17:18:13+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Iceland",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_1038_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sat, 17 Sep 2022 18:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "64",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/a-serious-case-of-brick-obsession-one-day-in-legoland-billund\/",
            "title": "A Serious Case of Brick Obsession: One Day in Legoland Billund",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0446.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6836.jpg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0478.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0484.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0590.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0607.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0633.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Billund has a sneaky way of rewiring your brain. You walk into Legoland thinking you’re a responsible adult supervising children, and five minutes later you’re emotionally invested in a LEGO airplane taxiing to a microscopic terminal. The kids sprinted ahead like they’d been summoned by destiny, while I followed, pretending not to gasp at the entrance gate like it was the eighth wonder of the world. Somewhere between the colors, the music, and the sheer audacity of building everything out of bricks, adulthood quietly clocked out.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3319458896982\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0454.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0456.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0458.jpeg\" width=\"961\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Miniland is where things got dangerous — for my sense of reality. Entire cities sat there calmly, perfectly aligned, spotless, and functioning better than their real-life counterparts. And then there was <a href=\"\/all\/copenhagen-where-the-water-glows\/\">Copenhagen<\/a>, recreated in tiny, perfect detail — colorful harbor houses lined up as if they’d been ironed, little boats gliding through impossibly tidy canals, miniature streets that somehow felt more organized than the real thing. I stood there staring at LEGO Copenhagen like I’d discovered a parallel universe where urban planning actually works. The kids pointed out details at lightning speed, while I lingered, admiring windows no one would ever clean and traffic that never, ever jams.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0466.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0451.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0459.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0460.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0461.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0463.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0471.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Then came the rides, the running, the negotiations. One more ride. One more snack. One more thing that was absolutely essential and would apparently ruin childhood forever if skipped. Somewhere between a mild sugar high and a mild existential crisis, I realized everyone was winning. The kids were exhausted in the best way, and I was having far too much fun for someone who’d sworn they were “just here to watch.”<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0510.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>By the time we left, legs aching and bags heavier with souvenirs than dignity, Legoland had done its job. It reminded us that imagination doesn’t expire, fun doesn’t need to be logical, and joy sometimes comes in bright plastic colors. Later that evening, stepping barefoot on a LEGO brick felt less like pain and more like a gentle reminder: you had a really good day.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0788.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A fun and personal family trip to Legoland Billund, full of miniature cities, big emotions, tired kids, playful parents, and the timeless magic of LEGO adventures.",
            "date_published": "2022-08-25T18:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-13T11:54:30+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Denmark",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
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            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0477.jpeg",
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            "id": "63",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/costa-blanca-where-summer-forgot-to-end\/",
            "title": "Costa Blanca, Where Summer Forgot to End",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1536\" data-ratio=\"1.5\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0053_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0051.jpeg\" width=\"961\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Costa Blanca arrived loud, sunny, and completely uninterested in subtlety. Benidorm especially looks like it was built by someone who asked, “What if the beach… but vertical?” Skyscrapers rise straight out of the sand while below them life happens at full volume — umbrellas popping open like confetti, waves slapping the shore with confidence, and people absolutely committed to doing nothing in the most serious way possible.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3319458896982\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0159.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0164.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0167.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>In <a href=\"\/all\/benidorm-sun-sand-and-two-meters-of-personal-space\/\">Benidorm<\/a>, things turn gloriously dramatic. Towers lean into the sky with full main-character confidence while the beach below runs on pure chaos and sunscreen. The sea looks calm from a distance, but step in and it grabs your ankles like an overfriendly dog. Long shoreline walks become people-watching marathons — accents from everywhere, laughter carried by the breeze, and locals moving with the relaxed certainty of people who know they’ve chosen the right address.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0206.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0207.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0209.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0210.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Up the coast, things mellow out. Denia swaps noise for boats, nets, and that gentle harbor smell of salt and yesterday’s fish stories. Fishing boats nap against the pier, gulls supervise everything with suspicion, and time slows to a pace that makes checking the clock feel unnecessary and vaguely rude. One drink turns into two, two into “let’s just sit a bit longer,” and suddenly the afternoon has vanished.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0152.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"452\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Teulada and the nearby coves seal the deal. Rocky edges, absurdly blue water, and beaches that feel like secrets you’re not supposed to tell anyone about. People float, swim, and disappear into the sea like they’ve solved something important about life. Costa Blanca doesn’t try to impress you — it just casually convinces you that summer should probably be permanent.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0225.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"518\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A playful travel story from Costa Blanca, capturing Benidorm’s lively beaches, Denia’s calm harbors, and Teulada’s hidden coves — full of sunshine, sea, cocktails, and slow Mediterranean summer vibes.",
            "date_published": "2022-07-10T17:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-13T11:54:46+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_0053_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sun, 10 Jul 2022 17:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "62",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/spindleruv-mlyn-snow-and-the-art-of-walking-somewhere-on-purpose\/",
            "title": "Spindleruv Mlyn: Snow and the Art of Walking Somewhere on Purpose",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9177_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>There’s something deeply suspicious about a snowy road that looks this polite. Wide, white, neatly packed, flanked by trees that stand like they’re posing for a postcard. That’s how it started in Spindleruv Mlyn: all of us walking confidently, pretending we absolutely knew where we were going. The air had that clean, alpine bite that makes your lungs feel refreshed and slightly judged, and every step sounded like a satisfying crunch you’d happily put on repeat. Spirits were high. Legs were warm. Nobody had yet suggested this was “basically flat.”<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9162.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9166.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9167.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>As the forest slowly opened up, the scenery shifted from friendly winter wonderland to dramatic “are we still on the right path?” real fast. Snowfields stretched out like blank pages, with lonely trees scattered around as if they’d lost a bet. Somewhere in the distance, mountains lounged under heavy clouds, half-hidden, looking mysterious and mildly unimpressed by our presence. This is usually the moment when conversation fades and everyone pretends they’re taking photos, when in reality they’re just catching their breath and reconsidering life choices.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9177.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9179-1.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9182.jpeg\" width=\"961\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Lunch, thankfully, arrived before any mutiny. Medvedi Bouda appeared like a wooden mirage, all red planks and mountain-chalet energy, promising warmth, food, and the sweet relief of sitting down. Inside, boots thumped, jackets steamed, and plates arrived that instantly made the hike feel like a brilliant idea. Nothing tastes better than mountain food earned the hard way, preferably while staring out a window and watching the weather do whatever dramatic thing it feels like doing that day.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9185.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9188.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9195.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Post-lunch confidence is a dangerous thing. Fueled by full stomachs and optimism, we pushed on through misty ridges, past rocks dusted in snow and signs pointing in several directions at once, none of which felt particularly reassuring. Somewhere near a border sign screaming “POZOR!” at us, the landscape turned moody. Wind picked up, clouds thickened, and the world shrank to shades of white, grey, and dark green. It was quiet in that special mountain way, where even your thoughts seem to lower their voices.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9198-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9203.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9204.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>By the time Moravska Bouda emerged from the fog, it felt less like a building and more like a reward. Solid, dark, and stubbornly standing there as if to say, “Yes, you made it. No, it wasn’t easy.” Boots came off, layers were abandoned, and the kind of tired happiness set in that only appears after a long walk with good people. Outside, snow kept falling. Inside, the night settled comfortably around us. Somewhere between the last steps of the day and the first moment of rest, Spindleruv Mlyn quietly worked its magic — the kind that doesn’t shout, doesn’t rush, and definitely doesn’t care how many steps your watch recorded.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A snowy walking adventure in Spindleruv Mlyn with mountain trails, dramatic views, cozy huts, team laughs, and well-earned food stops - winter hiking at its best in the Czech mountains.",
            "date_published": "2022-04-08T16:10:55+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-10T16:11:10+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Czech Republic",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_9177_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 08 Apr 2022 16:10:55 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "61",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/tenerife-and-the-day-we-were-outnumbered-by-guinea-pigs\/",
            "title": "Tenerife and the Day We Were Outnumbered by Guinea Pigs",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8774_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Tenerife mornings start politely, like they don’t want to scare you off. Soft light, calm ocean, that feeling that you woke up exactly where you were supposed to be. Somewhere between the first coffee and the first long walk, the island quietly slips into your system. You walk without urgency, past lava rocks smoothed by time and waves that seem permanently relaxed. The sea keeps changing colors like it’s indecisive, and you don’t mind following it just to see what shade comes next.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8706.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8708-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8712.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8745.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8754.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8759.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8762.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8769.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8879.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Down by the water, life unfolds at a very reasonable pace. Boats drift in and out of harbors framed by cliffs that look almost fake in the golden light. Los Gigantes doesn’t just exist, it dominates, towering over marinas full of neatly parked boats that clearly know who’s in charge here. Even the ocean seems to behave differently under those cliffs, a little calmer, a little deeper, as if lowering its voice out of respect.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8772.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8816.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8855.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Somewhere along the way, walking turns into thinking, and thinking turns into nothing at all. Beaches stretch out like invitations you don’t have to RSVP to. Dark stones stack themselves into tiny towers, built by strangers who clearly had time and patience to spare. You sit, you watch the sun hover dramatically above the horizon, and for a moment everything feels perfectly balanced – rocks, light, water, and you, doing absolutely nothing useful.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8897.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8792.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8794.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>By sunset, <a href=\"\/all\/tenerife-where-the-sun-knows-its-being-watched\/\">Tenerife<\/a> shows its favorite trick. The sky goes all in, colors melting into each other while the ocean reflects every single decision the sun makes. People pause mid-conversation, mid-walk, mid-life, just to watch it happen. When the light finally fades, the island doesn’t rush you away. It just stays there, calm and confident, knowing you’ll probably come back tomorrow for another long walk and another quiet wow.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8896.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"456\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A relaxed and funny travel story from Tenerife, featuring Monkey Park, long coastal walks, El Duque beach, Los Gigantes cliffs, unforgettable sunsets, and the easy rhythm of island life.",
            "date_published": "2022-02-25T17:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-02-13T11:54:12+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Africa",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8774.jpeg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 25 Feb 2022 17:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "60",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/malmo-for-a-day-wind-water-coffee-and-very-happy-dogs\/",
            "title": "Malmö for a Day: Wind, Water, Coffee, and Very Happy Dogs",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1536\" data-ratio=\"1.5\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8032_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7702.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7655.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7735.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Malmö felt like that effortlessly cool neighbor who borrows your charger and somehow makes it look like a lifestyle choice. One short train ride from <a href=\"all\/copenhagen-where-the-water-glows\/\">Copenhagen<\/a> and suddenly the air changed, the light softened, and the sea stretched out like it had all the time in the world. The bridge loomed in the distance like a polite giant minding its own business, while the water below looked calm, cold, and very clear about not wanting anyone to swim in it. We stood there anyway, staring dramatically at the horizon, pretending we were deep thinkers and not just mildly underdressed.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7793.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7791.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7804-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>The city itself unfolded slowly, as if Malmö didn’t want to overwhelm us all at once. Canals slid quietly between elegant buildings, parks appeared exactly when our legs needed them, and a very serious windmill stood there pretending it wasn’t ridiculously photogenic. Somewhere along the way we discovered walls full of carefully stacked wood that looked like modern art with a very practical backup plan. The skyline surprised us too, with a twisting tower rising up like it had briefly considered being normal and then changed its mind.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7843.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7859-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7946.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>And then there were the dogs. Confident, slightly wet, living their best lives in the cold sea like it was a spa day instead of borderline madness. Watching them splash around made the rest of us feel both inspired and deeply aware of our poor life choices. Thankfully, Malmö understands emotional recovery, which is where the coffee comes in. Warm, strong, and exactly what you want after being emotionally humbled by Scandinavian dogs. By the time we headed back, cheeks pink from wind and caffeine, Malmö had done its job — a short visit, a big smile, and just enough charm to make us promise we’d be back.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7812.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"511\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A short and refreshing walk through Malmö, filled with dramatic sea views, calm canals, playful dogs, striking architecture, and excellent coffee — the perfect easygoing day trip just across the bridge.",
            "date_published": "2021-11-23T00:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:54:26+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Sweden",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8032_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Tue, 23 Nov 2021 00:00:00 +0200",
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                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7859-1.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7946.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7812.jpeg"
                ]
            }
        },
        {
            "id": "59",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/copenhagen-where-the-water-glows\/",
            "title": "Copenhagen, Where the Water Glows and Dinner Feels Like a Celebration",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7669_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Copenhagen greeted us the way only confident cities do — by casually looking incredible without trying too hard. Nyhavn was doing its usual magic trick: colorful houses lined up like they’d agreed on a dress code, boats gently rocking as if posing for photos, and reflections in the water so perfect they felt suspicious. We wandered along the canal pretending not to stop every ten meters to stare, while the moon hung above the harbor like it had specifically cleared its schedule for this view. The city felt calm but alive, as if everyone had collectively decided to slow down and enjoy the evening properly.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7662.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7665.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7953.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Later, crossing the harbor felt like stepping into a postcard that had accidentally come to life. Inderhavnsbroen stretched elegantly over the water, modern and light, connecting old Copenhagen with the new without making a big deal out of it. Boats decorated with tiny lights floated below, and the water shimmered like it knew it was being watched. Somewhere nearby, oysters were being enjoyed straight from the harbor — salty, cold, and unbelievably fresh — which felt both luxurious and slightly rebellious, like we were getting away with something very Danish.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7984-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7985-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7986.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Tivoli, on the other hand, did not believe in subtlety and proudly sparkled its way into the night. The entrance glowed with lights, trees twinkled like they’d been professionally trained for the holidays, and the giant red heart hanging inside made the whole place feel oddly romantic and slightly ridiculous in the best way. Crowds flowed in happily, bundled up but smiling, proving that amusement parks don’t need roller coasters screaming for attention when atmosphere does all the heavy lifting.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7990.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8005.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8008.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>By daylight, Copenhagen softened even more. The Little Mermaid sat quietly on her rock, watching people drift by, clearly used to the attention but not impressed by it. Nearby, the city opened up into calm harbors, rows of boats resting like they had nowhere urgent to be, and grand buildings rising with the kind of elegance that doesn’t need explanation. Somewhere between long walks, surprisingly warm weather, and an excellent sushi dinner at Sticks ’n’ Sushi that made us question all previous sushi experiences, Copenhagen managed to feel relaxed, stylish, and effortlessly welcoming — the kind of place that doesn’t shout to be remembered, but somehow stays with you anyway.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8002.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"453\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "A relaxed walk through Copenhagen filled with colorful canals, glowing harbors, iconic landmarks, fresh oysters by the water, and a memorable sushi dinner — a city that blends calm Nordic charm with vibrant city life.",
            "date_published": "2021-11-21T20:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:55:01+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Denmark",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7669_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sun, 21 Nov 2021 20:00:00 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "59",
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                    "jquery\/jquery.js",
                    "fotorama\/fotorama.css",
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                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7669_sign.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7662.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7665.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7953.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7984-1.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7985-1.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7986.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7990.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8005.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8008.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_8002.jpeg"
                ]
            }
        },
        {
            "id": "58",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/budapest-taking-its-time\/",
            "title": "Budapest, Taking Its Time",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7271_sign.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7176.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Budapest welcomed us with drama straight out of a movie scene. The Danube flowed calmly, pretending not to notice the city flexing on both banks, while river cruise ships drifted by like floating hotels that had clearly made good life choices. And just when it felt like Budapest couldn’t get any more theatrical, it casually dropped a full rainbow over the water. In the background, the Hungarian Parliament Building stretched along the river like an architectural mic drop, perfectly aware that it looks good in every possible light, angle, and mood.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7245.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7243.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"961\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7209.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7233.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Crossing the Danube felt like walking through a live exhibition of very confident buildings. From the bridges, Pest buzzes with straight lines and movement, while Buda relaxes on its hills, watching calmly like an older sibling. The Parliament changes personality with every step — glowing warmly at night, sharp and elegant during the day — while stone crown statues on the bridges silently judge your photography skills. Even when you think you’ve seen the best view, Budapest gently proves you wrong a few meters later.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7242-1.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7255.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7256.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7259.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Deeper in the city, St. Stephen’s Basilica rises with the authority of something that knows it’s iconic. Standing below it, you suddenly understand why cyclists slow down, tourists stop talking, and everyone instinctively looks up. Life flows around it effortlessly: bikes glide past, families wander in loose formations, and cafés quietly do what they do best. Somewhere between the basilica, the wide streets, and the endless architectural details, Budapest stops being a destination and starts feeling like a place you could accidentally stay longer than planned.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7171.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"485\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Food and family time tie everything together, because in Budapest every walk eventually ends near something delicious. Days stretch comfortably from long strolls into longer meals, then back to the river as evening lights switch on and the Parliament begins its nightly glow. Add a bit of <a href=\"\/tags\/f1\/\">Formula 1 energy<\/a> into the mix – fast, precise, and thrilling – and the city suddenly feels like a perfectly tuned engine wrapped in historic stone. Beautiful, tasty, lively, and relaxed all at once, Budapest somehow makes it all look effortless.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A relaxed family walk through Budapest, filled with iconic riverside views, stunning architecture, memorable food stops, and long strolls between the Danube, the Parliament, and St. Stephen’s Basilica in one of Europe’s most atmospheric cities.",
            "date_published": "2021-09-19T00:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:55:21+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Hungary",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7271_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sun, 19 Sep 2021 00:00:00 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "58",
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                    "fotorama\/fotorama.css",
                    "fotorama\/fotorama.js"
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                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7271_sign.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7176.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7245.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7243.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7209.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7233.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7242-1.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7255.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7256.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7259.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_7171.jpeg"
                ]
            }
        },
        {
            "id": "57",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/benidorm-at-night\/",
            "title": "Benidorm at Night",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6858.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"‎⁨La Cruz de Benidorm⁩\" \/>\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "",
            "date_published": "2021-08-21T23:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:55:53+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "One Photo at a Time",
                "Spain"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6858.jpeg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sat, 21 Aug 2021 23:00:00 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "57",
            "_rss_enclosures": [],
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                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6858.jpeg"
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        },
        {
            "id": "56",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/climbing-for-the-view-staying-for-the-silence\/",
            "title": "Villajoyosa: Climbing for the View, Staying for the Silence",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6654.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6667.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Torre d’Aguiló has that special talent of looking very close while secretly being a decent workout. From below, it feels like a casual stroll; halfway up, it turns into a polite argument with gravity. The path snakes through pine trees smelling of summer and sun-warmed needles, and you find yourself stopping often, officially for the view, unofficially for your lungs. With every step, the noise of the town fades, replaced by wind, cicadas, and your own slightly dramatic breathing.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"4.2666666666667\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6652.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"300\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6656.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"387\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>At the top, the tower stands calm and unimpressed, as if it’s seen thousands of people arrive with the same hopeful expression. Turn around, though, and the real show begins. The coastline opens up, the sea stretches endlessly, and the city below suddenly looks quiet, tidy, and strangely well-behaved. Buildings lose their seriousness, beaches seem emptier, and everything is dipped in soft, golden light that makes you forget how hard the climb felt five minutes ago.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6670.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6675.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>What stays with you isn’t just the view, but the feeling of earning it. No rush, no crowds, just space and silence and the quiet satisfaction of sitting still after moving uphill for longer than planned. Torre d’Aguiló doesn’t try to impress loudly. It simply lets you catch your breath, clear your head, and enjoy being exactly where you are.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A scenic climb to Torre d’Aguiló above Villajoyosa with rewarding coastal views, peaceful surroundings, and a quiet moment away from the busy city below.",
            "date_published": "2021-08-18T23:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:56:41+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6654.jpeg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Wed, 18 Aug 2021 23:00:00 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "56",
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                    "jquery\/jquery.js",
                    "fotorama\/fotorama.css",
                    "fotorama\/fotorama.js"
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                "og_images": [
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6654.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6667.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6652.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6656.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6670.jpeg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_6675.jpeg"
                ]
            }
        },
        {
            "id": "55",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/tenerife-where-the-sun-knows-its-being-watched\/",
            "title": "Tenerife, Where the Sun Knows It’s Being Watched",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_5319_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Tenerife taught me an important life lesson: never make evening plans, because the sun has its own show scheduled and it will not accept competition. Every single sunset felt like a personal performance – the sky slowly warming up in soft oranges and pinks, the ocean pretending not to care while absolutely stealing the spotlight, and me standing there like an idiot with a phone, whispering “just one more photo”. The volcanic coast turned into a dramatic stage, waves clapped politely against the rocks, and time slowed down in that dangerous way that makes you forget emails, deadlines, and what day of the week it is. Tenerife doesn’t do shy sunsets. It does bold, cinematic, end-of-the-world sunsets that make you believe this island was specifically designed for golden hours and quiet existential thoughts.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/1615989194530.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"1280\" height=\"720\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "Tenerife offers unforgettable sunsets with glowing skies, dramatic ocean views, and volcanic landscapes that make this island one of the best sunset destinations in the world.",
            "date_published": "2021-03-17T22:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:55:38+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Africa",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_5319_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Wed, 17 Mar 2021 22:00:00 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "55",
            "_rss_enclosures": [
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                    "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/1615989194530.mp4",
                    "type": "video\/mp4",
                    "length": 14281917
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        },
        {
            "id": "54",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/red-roofs-and-coffee-dreams-getting-lost-in-prague\/",
            "title": "Red Roofs and Coffee Dreams: Getting Lost in Prague",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4116_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>I set out that morning with modest ambitions — just a quick stroll, maybe a coffee, definitely no existential revelations. But Prague had other plans. The moment I stepped onto Charles Bridge, the city hit me with its full medieval charm offensive — towers, statues, spires, and that smug little Vltava River reflecting it all like a show-off.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4117.jpg\" width=\"2560\" height=\"1004\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>From above, the red rooftops rolled out like a sea of paprika, stitched together by narrow cobbled veins full of tourists pretending not to be lost. I climbed a tower (because apparently I hate my legs) and stared at a skyline so beautiful it felt photoshopped by history itself. Petřín Hill brooded in the distance, the TV tower poked the clouds, and I stood there thinking, “Yeah, okay, Prague, you win.”<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"2016\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4119.jpg\" width=\"2016\" height=\"1512\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4120.jpg\" width=\"2016\" height=\"1512\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4122.jpg\" width=\"2016\" height=\"1512\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>By the time I came down, the streets glowed in that golden hour haze, and I found myself in a café, drinking something that tasted suspiciously like happiness. Prague doesn’t just show you sights — it traps you in a daydream made of rooftops, riverlight, and the quiet conviction that you’ll definitely be back.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A September walk through Prague’s Old Town turns into a gentle trap of red rooftops, river views, tower climbs, and café pauses. A short stroll becomes a reminder that Prague doesn’t let you leave unchanged — or on time.",
            "date_published": "2020-09-05T17:34:13+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:56:52+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Czech Republic",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4116.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Sat, 05 Sep 2020 17:34:13 +0200",
            "_rss_guid_is_permalink": "false",
            "_rss_guid": "54",
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                    "fotorama\/fotorama.css",
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                "og_images": [
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4116.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4116_sign.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4117.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4119.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4120.jpg",
                    "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_4122.jpg"
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            }
        },
        {
            "id": "53",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/benidorm-sun-sand-and-two-meters-of-personal-space\/",
            "title": "Benidorm: Sun, Sand, and Two Meters of Personal Space",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"2.365988909427\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3799_sign.jpg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"541\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3835.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"535\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3799.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"541\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Benidorm in June felt like a beach resort that had accidentally overslept through its own party. The skyscrapers were still standing tall and confident, like they hadn’t gotten the memo about the apocalypse, but down on the beach everything was quieter, slower, and strangely polite. The sea was doing its usual impressive blue thing, completely unbothered by global events, while humans tiptoed around it like guests who weren’t sure if they were allowed to stay. Sunbeds were spaced out as if they’d had an argument, beach bars whispered instead of shouted, and every cough anywhere within a kilometer triggered a full-body paranoia scan. Walking along the shore felt oddly cinematic — palm trees, warm sand, a perfect horizon, and just enough people to remind you this wasn’t a dream, just a very weird chapter of reality. It was a vacation with sunscreen, masks, and the constant feeling that you were doing something slightly illegal, even though you absolutely weren’t. And somehow, that made the sunsets better, the swims calmer, and the memories stick a little harder.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A quiet, sun-soaked Benidorm during COVID — empty beaches, spaced-out sunbeds, and a strange but unforgettable summer by the sea.",
            "date_published": "2020-06-26T18:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-24T18:57:23+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Europe",
                "Spain",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_3799_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 26 Jun 2020 18:00:00 +0200",
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        {
            "id": "52",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/frozen-turns-and-slow-steps-around-lipno\/",
            "title": "Frozen Turns and Slow Steps Around Lipno",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2249_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<p>Lipno welcomed us on January first the way only a proper winter resort can: with blue skies, suspiciously perfect snow, and that quiet confidence of a place that knows you’ll eventually fall over anyway. The chairlift hummed above us like a patient therapist, carrying people uphill while they silently questioned their life choices. Snow cannons blasted clouds of icy mist across the slope, working overtime like overcaffeinated dragons determined to keep winter alive, no matter what the calendar said. From the lift, everything looked peaceful and cinematic. Up close, it smelled faintly of wet gloves and determination.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2244.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2245.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2248.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2250.jpeg\" width=\"960\" height=\"1280\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Snowboarding started with the usual optimism. Everyone looks cool standing still, especially when the sun is low and the mountains pretend they’re Alps. The moment you start moving, though, gravity becomes very personal. Kids zipped past with the reckless confidence of people who heal fast, while adults negotiated every turn like it was a business contract. Somewhere between avoiding a snow cannon’s icy breath and untangling myself after a graceful fall that definitely impressed no one, I remembered why I love places like this. It’s cold, it’s exhausting, and somehow it makes you laugh more than most summer holidays ever could.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"3.6158192090395\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2258.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"354\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2267.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"458\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Later, we traded boards for boots and went wandering around Lipno Lake, which was half frozen and completely unapologetic about it. The ice stretched out like a giant white table, cracked and textured, reflecting the sky in soft pastel colors. People strolled along the shore, pushing strollers, holding hands, or staring thoughtfully at the horizon as if January first was a perfectly reasonable time for deep life reflections. Houses along the water looked warm and colorful, quietly judging us for not already sitting inside with tea and cake.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1280\" data-ratio=\"1.3333333333333\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2296.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2273.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>As the sun dipped lower, the world slowed down in that special winter way, where even conversations become softer. One person tested stones on the ice like a scientist with a deadline, while a metal statue nearby sprinted eternally toward something invisible, clearly more motivated than the rest of us. Fingers went numb, cheeks turned red, and everyone agreed it was probably time to head back, even though no one really wanted to say it out loud. Lipno had done its job: it gave us snow, laughter, tired legs, and that calm, slightly frozen happiness that only comes from spending a day outside together, doing absolutely nothing productive and enjoying every second of it.<\/p>\n<div class=\"e2-text-video\">\n<video src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/video\/lipno.mp4#t=0.001\" width=\"720\" height=\"406\" controls alt=\"\" \/>\n\n<\/div>\n",
            "summary": "New Year at Lipno with snowboards, snow cannons, frozen lake walks and unhurried family moments under a cold blue winter sky.",
            "date_published": "2020-01-01T17:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-24T18:57:46+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "Czech Republic",
                "Europe",
                "Travel"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2249_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Wed, 01 Jan 2020 17:00:00 +0200",
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            "_rss_guid": "52",
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        {
            "id": "51",
            "url": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/all\/cambridge-five-minutes-of-science-wind-and-a-very-tired-bicycle\/",
            "title": "Cambridge: Five Minutes of Science, Wind, and a Very Tired Bicycle",
            "content_html": "<div class=\"e2-text-picture\">\n<div class=\"fotorama\" data-width=\"1536\" data-ratio=\"1.5\">\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2065_sign.jpg\" width=\"1536\" height=\"1024\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2061.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2062.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2063.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<img src=\"https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2072.jpeg\" width=\"1280\" height=\"960\" alt=\"\" \/>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<p>Boston greeted me with that special December shade of grey that makes even museums look slightly philosophical. I took a short walk around the Museum of Science, which from the outside feels less like a museum and more like a brick spaceship that landed next to a very busy road. Cars rushed by, school buses lined up, and the Charles River flowed calmly, clearly unimpressed by human ambition and architecture. Somewhere near the planetarium, a lonely dinosaur statue stared into traffic while a white bicycle, wrapped around a pole like a tragic modern art installation, silently judged us all. It was a brief walk, cold and unplanned, but exactly the kind of urban moment that makes you smile and pull your hands deeper into your pockets.<\/p>\n",
            "summary": "A short winter walk around Boston’s Museum of Science, where grey skies, rushing traffic, a bored dinosaur, and a stranded bicycle turned an ordinary moment into a quiet, ironic city scene.",
            "date_published": "2019-12-13T18:00:00+02:00",
            "date_modified": "2026-01-27T10:54:36+02:00",
            "tags": [
                "North America",
                "Travel",
                "United States"
            ],
            "image": "https:\/\/walkingwith.me\/pictures\/IMG_2065_sign.jpg",
            "_date_published_rfc2822": "Fri, 13 Dec 2019 18:00:00 +0200",
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