The dress code to Ayios Paisios — the Holy Monastery of St. John the Theologian in Souroti — is stricter than almost any other Orthodox site you’ll visit in Greece. Women must wear a long skirt below the knee (trousers are not accepted here, full stop), shoulders must be covered, and a headscarf is expected … Read more
The Paleokastritsa monastery clothing restrictions are straightforward: shoulders and knees must be covered for everyone, and women are expected to wear a skirt or dress — not shorts or trousers. That’s the short answer. I learned this the slightly awkward way on a hot July afternoon, watching a steady stream of visitors in swimwear get … Read more
The dress code for a California temple tour depends entirely on one thing: whether you’re attending a public open house or just visiting the grounds. Short answer — if you’re going inside, think modest business-casual church attire. If you’re visiting the grounds or visitor center outside of an open house window, there’s no dress code … Read more
Dubai International Airport (DXB) has no enforced dress code. Airport authorities do not police what passengers wear inside the terminals — and on any given day you’ll spot people in shorts, sleeveless tops, and swimwear cover-ups moving through without a second glance. I’ve transited through DXB more times than I can count, including a sweaty … Read more
Rab vs Krk is one of those questions I get asked constantly once people discover the Kvarner Gulf exists — usually right after they’ve decided to skip the Dalmatian conga line and right before they realise they only have time for one island. And I get it. They’re the two heavyweight islands of the northern … Read more
The guard held out his hand before I even reached the ticket window. Not for my entrance fee — for my sunscreen. I’d driven ninety minutes from Playa del Carmen through the jungle heat, windows down, cumbia crackling on the radio, mentally preparing myself for the famous beam of light at Cenote Suytun. And this … Read more
It was 1:17 in the morning, and I was hiking up a rocky ridgeline in the Lofoten Islands with sunglasses on. Not metaphorically. Actual sunglasses, because the actual sun was sitting smugly on the horizon like it had somewhere to be but couldn’t quite commit to leaving. The light was this impossible shade of amber … Read more
I was standing at 4,215 meters above sea level, gasping at the top of Dead Woman’s Pass, arms raised in triumph like every hiker before me — and I had absolutely no idea my face was being destroyed. That was Day 2 of the Inca Trail, the famous climb to Warmiwañusqa, and the Andean sun … Read more
I lost my hat to Patagonia forty-five minutes into a seven-hour trek. Not misplaced it. Not forgot it at the refugio. Lost it — as in, a gust of wind that felt like a freight train made a direct personal decision to remove it from my head, and I watched it sail, in a graceful, … Read more
The descent into Bete Giyorgis doesn’t prepare you for anything. You walk to the edge of a carved trench cut straight into the Ethiopian highland rock, and then you just — go down. Steep stone steps, rough-hewn walls close on either side, the smell of incense rising from somewhere below. When I finally reached the … Read more
