Somewhere at the crossroads …

one finds the Wanderlust Cafe. A meeting place, a place of respite, a place to have some exotic tea or a stiff drink, eat fruits and simple food, a place to stow your pack in a safe corner, or lay out a few trade goods for sale. Listen to foreign tongues, write or sketch in your journal, argue philosophy, send postcards and file dispatches, or just sit and dream. Send some emails (though we can't guarantee the internet is working, shrug).

There's spies and smugglers and adventurers and artists and all other sorts of low-lifes. Fortunetellers. Bards. Poets. Pilgrims. Gods and goddesses in disguise. One never knows.

Where is it? Along the Silk Road, off the Barbary Coast, on a Greek island somewhere near Delphi or Shangri-La. Hard to find, hard to miss. Under the shade of a centuries-old mango tree. Adorned by long-limbed descendants of Egyptian temple cats. A place to tie up the camels and the horses and dust off your fedora. Swap some stories, or some lies. Hatch a conspiracy. Dance if you wish. Scream if you need to. Love if you dare.

Welcome!

RSS feed

Subscribe to RSS feed

or Subscribe by email

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

The Horse of Alexander

Little Brass Horse

He called out to me from a shop in the souk in Casablanca.  This small brass horse, a descendant of Bucephalus,  the legendary war horse of Alexander the Great.

He had been all over the known world with his master, carried him safely through many battles and conquests.  The little brass horse had inherited a fierce desire to explore and wanted to see the New World.  So he called to me when I passed the stall.  He had a nice heft and fit nicely into my hand and I longed for him to come home with me.  And so began yet another journey.

He seems happy here.  But, I sometimes wonder, does he miss the deserts of his native land?

– with love for the journey.

Leave a Reply

 

 

 

Spam Protection by WP-SpamFree Plugin