fact or fiction
Is it a fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores travel myths to help you avoid making that wrong turn.
Forget the Road Less Traveled
“By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong.” — Joni Mitchell In 1969, our high school only had a handful of actual hippies. Just by chance, my locker was near the leader of that small pack, and I spent a lot of time talking to them about music. In May, during the last week of 8th grade, they were all excited as I approached. “Hey, Darryl, we’re all going to load into Gary’s VW bus and drive up to New York this summer. There’s going to be this bitchin’ concert, man, supposed to be a lot of bands. Wanna come?”
By Darryl Brooks3 years ago in Wander
Magical Caoimhe
She felt the morning air warming from the sun as she walked the familiar dirt path through the woods. Nina was trying to shake the glum feeling that had been hanging on her for months. She hoped the walk and the Spring air might help revive her soul. Not only had it been a harsh Winter, but the sad events of the past few years had worn her down. She was tired. Thoughts and memories rambled through her mind, depressing her even more. She could feel the buildup of tears coming. Nina looked up and down the path and into the surrounding woods and saw no one. It would be safe to sit somewhere and cry.
By Tersa Morris3 years ago in Wander
P.P.Paris 1941
We arrived at our Paris apartment in the middle of a sunny afternoon, anticipating another wonderful vacation in the city of light. The seventh arrondissement, how we loved the area. Bakeries everywhere, wine shops, cafes, people with two baguettes, one to eat on the run, and one to take home. It was good to be back.
By Joanne Smith-Camm3 years ago in Wander
The Snake Island Curse
Part 1 The Necklace There was George, whose parents died in a car crash. Now, he’s an orphan. In his despair of losing everyone he loved, he trashed his parents home. Then he found a necklace, it was gold with an emerald stone in the middle. Underneath the necklace was a little black book. But George didn’t care about the book, he cared more about the necklace. It was gold. Ever since his parents died, he faced so many financial problems. The bank is foreclosing the house, and bills are piling up. George thought of his future. He took the necklace and went to a pawnshop. He met the pawnshop owner who gave him a warm smile. ‘’What can I do for you today friend?'' ''Hi, how much can I get for this necklace?’’ George was pleased. He sold the necklace to the pawnshop owner for twenty thousand dollars. He went home, packed a bag, and bought a ticket, off to somewhere far. He wants to start a new life away from all the pain and problems. He packed just the essentials and the little black book he found. He thought maybe it’s a diary he could read for the trip. It would be nice to know more about his parents. As he was riding the bus, he opened the book and to his surprise, he hurriedly stopped the bus and went back to the pawnshop. He tried to buy back the necklace, but the pawnshop guy refused to sell him back the necklace. He said that after the necklace was sold, a gentleman in a nice suit came and bought the necklace. George asked if he could take a look at the receipt. And the pawnshop guy said- ‘’What receipt?’’ So George put fifty on the counter. The pawnshop guy took out the receipt and left with the money. He found out that the gentleman’s name was Michael Bruchard. He left the store and started to search about Bruchard. It turns out he was a history professor. George went to the university where Bruchard was teaching. He waited for him until his class was over and spoke to the professor. He offered to purchase back the necklace, but the professor said it was a gift for his wife so unfortunately he can’t return the necklace back. But George knew he didn’t have a wife or kids. ‘’It was nice meeting you George. I’m sorry I can’t give you back your necklace, I hope you understand...wife and all you know..’’-Bruchard laughs.. ‘’I get it’’ -George smiled and left. He followed the professor home after his work. He planned to steal the necklace back, but the professor caught him. He told George he can’t have the necklace back and he knows very well why. They both fought. During the fight, they knocked over an ashtray with a lighted cigar on it, and it started a fire. The fire quickly grew, there were smoke everywhere. And it was getting harder to breathe. The professor lounged at him, and George fell. Mr. Bruchard, very angry and hyped told George how he envied his parents and how stupid they were to not use the necklace to their advantage. The boy was filled with rage. He kicked the professor with both his feet. The professor fell back towards a cabinet and a vase fell on his head, dropping him unconscious. George quickly scanned through the professor’s desk. He found the necklace and quickly left the scene. The firefighters, police and ambulance came. There were a crowd of people trying to leave the building. It was a perfect getaway. He went straight to the port together with all of his belongings, stole a boat and drove off to the open sea...
By Tricia Parrenas3 years ago in Wander
Did I just meet a Huldufolk
Meeting Isle of Skye Artist Bill Lawrence, maybe. I had just finished a hike in the Cuillins on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, I was blissfully exhausted as I drove back to my lodgings looking forward to relaxing with a wee dram in front of the huge fireplace.
By Savor Whisky 3 years ago in Wander
Magical Moments
Few things in life satisfy my sense of adventure like travel to Europe. The beauty and culture fascinate me - and the colour! Light bouncing off the limestone buildings is a yellow both intense and pale; rainy days are a million shades of grey and the sunny days, an azure blue-as-blue can be. Where I live in Canada is magestically beautiful but there is something about the light here. As my the flight descends in Europe I feel as if I’ve come home again - despite having no family history in this part of the world. These trips have for me, been rich with culture, beauty and mystery that I’ve claimed for myself with the help of a camera. This time, I wanted to bring my paints to capture the essence and true colours - more so than using photographs as subject matter for my paintings. So for the first time, I packed my art supplies with my baggage - how brave of me, I thought.
By Beverly Furer3 years ago in Wander
Knowing Tributary
The day began as other days, especially the days for the last long year, filled with nothingness and a void of human interaction. The sameness and the over familiarity of the small, cozy apartment atop the stately brown stone building was annoying. Her eyes fell on the plaque, a beautiful image of a limpid pool in a faraway land with the words, “Still Waters Run Deep.” How she longed to see these places. How she longed to see anywhere exciting and new.
By Christine K. Trease3 years ago in Wander