Bianca Vagabonde

Still half-asleep, tucked deep inside my sleeping bag, I was never quite sure what had stirred me awake — the breath of a humpback whale somewhere close to shore, or the low, distant thunder of an iceberg splitting apart across the bay. I would unzip the tent and peer outside to find giants of ice drifting silently past the thin walls of canvas I had come to call home. In Greenland, even waking up felt like stepping into a dream… I spent several weeks there that summer, paddling and camping...

Monday, March 16, 2026 This morning, the half-open window lets the salty air drift in from the sea. I wake slowly to a familiar sound I haven’t heard in months: seagulls wheeling above the beach below the house. Their cries blend with the steady rhythm of waves rolling in and breaking against the dark rocks. They’re back. After spending the winter somewhere far to the south, away from these storm-lashed latitudes and endless polar nights, the gulls have returned to the Arctic. From my bed, I...

Table of Contents Caye Caulker: A Caribbean Island Living on "Go Slow" My Creole Interlude off the Coast of Belize What to Do on the...