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.

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Bringing Back the Song

Sultanhani Caravanserai, 1229 AD. Along the Konya-Aksaray highway in Turkey

The song reached out to her, and she risked the disapproval of her fellow travelers by delaying long enough to learn its name from the shopkeeper.  And so she carried the music home, where she could replay it at any time.

From thousands of miles away, she closes her eyes and returns to the caravanserai along the Silk Road.  And feels the presence of long-ago travelers lingering in its golden afternoon shadows.

– with love for the journey.

Photograph by Lou Ann Granger, September 2009

Musings on the song Gülümcan, from the album Köprüler.  And the power of music to capture a precious moment from the journey.

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