A photographer’s walking tour of Goerlitz, Germany

Goerlitz Untermarkt

Visiting Goerlitz, Germany

Many people consider Goerlitz to be the most beautiful city in Germany. I’m not sure I’d go that far, but I might say it’s the most beautiful German city you’ve never seen. Except that too isn’t quite true. If you’ve watched movies such as The Grand Budapest Hotel, Monuments Men, The Book Thief, Inglorious Basterds, or many others, you’ve seen Goerlitz. It’s become such an important place for shooting movies that it won the European Film Location of the Decade Award two years ago.

If you visit Goerlitz, you can obtain a map of all the “Goerliwood” filming locations from the tourist office located on the main Obermarkt square. Here’s a list of some sample locations.

Goerlitz StreetBut besides film sites, there are many other places to see and photograph if you make your way to this eastern-most city in Germany. I’ve organized the locations as an ordered walking tour with tips for photographers along the way. But you can visit these and many other beautiful locations in Goerlitz in any order that works for you.

The main square (Obermarkt)

The Obermarkt is more an oval than a square but serves as a central starting point for your walking tour. Visually, it’s a shame the center of this oval is used as a parking lot, but reality and 21st century logistics will often intrude into many a photographer’s desire for a pristine historic setting. You can still find some lovely sights, stores and restaurants around the square.

Goerlitz fountain

Note the yellowish corner building that houses the tourist office.

The primary starting point of this walking tour is the visitor’s information center near the above fountain at the north end of the Obermarkt. Find out about filming sites and other happenings, then proceed across the street past the fountain to the Dreifaltikeitskirche (Holy Trinity Church). On the way, you might want to pop into the Hotel Schwibbogen whose breakfast room is lined with a five-hundred-year-old mural.

Hotel Schwiboggen at night

The Hotel Schwiboggen, is on the left with the Holy Trinity Church to the right.

Stop 1: The Holy Trinity Church (Dreifaltikeitskirche)

Holy Trinity Church pews

These pews face west.

At the church, the interesting interior reflects the building’s development from a 13th century monastery church to a school in the 16th century then to a parochial church in 1712.

Holy Trinity Church from the Baroque altar

The same church looking south from the Baroque Altar

Thus, in one building, you’ll see elements of the original Romanesque style mingled with later Gothic developments such as the nave and choir combined with a Baroque high altar and other later touches.

From a photographer’s perspective, check out the colors, lighting and layout of this church. You’ll need a fast lens or tripod due to the low light. A wide-angle lens also helps. I tried to stitch together several shots for a panorama of the ceiling, but the angles made it difficult to align everything well without a tripod.
The church is unique (at least to me) in that you have most of the pews facing west but several facing north toward the high altar (whose ceiling is a blue-gray color unlike any other church ceiling I’ve seen). I’d love to see how they conduct services with this setup. But for your visit, be sure to look up at the all the ceiling construction and paintings.

When you’re done, return to the Obermarkt and turn to your right. You can do a bit of shopping along this street filled with stores and eateries as you head for Bruederstrasse 9, about a block up from the church.

The road

Look down at the cobblestones on which you’re walking. It’s easy to ignore these. But noticing them helps remind you that the street that you’re walking on was part of the Via Regia, the longest and oldest network of roads that connected the most eastern and western parts of Europe for 2,000 years.

Cobblestone replacements

A side street in Goerlitz was having new cobblestones put in. It gives you a better appreciation for how they make those roads you walk on but rarely notice.

This set of roads went from Kiev, Ukraine to Santiago de Compestella on the Atlantic coast in Spain. It served three seemingly disparate but historically common purposes. First was trade. Merchants in the West traded cloth and other goods for spices, furs and wood from the East. Second was military. In times of war, the route allowed a quicker movement of armies back and forth between countries or kingdoms. Finally, the Via Regia served as a pilgrimage route connecting the most Eastern areas of Europe with the famed Camino de Santiago in Spain. And central to all of this sat Goerlitz.

Corner of the Waidhaus

This colorful corner is part of the Waidhaus where woad was stored.

Goerlitz itself became wealthy by selling a blue dye derived from woad (a local plant). Woad served as the principle source of the color blue until the 18th century when cheaper indigo from India took over. But while the trade lasted, it resulted in vast wealth for Goerlitz merchants. They used this wealth to build what we now refer to as Goerlitz Hall Houses.

You’re going to explore one of those now.

Hall house exterior

From the Holy Trinity Church, walk up the street looking for that whitish building on the right, the Hall House. The Silesian Museum is the reddish orange and gray building next door.

Stop 2: Hall House

Hall house vacant roomWhen I visited Goerlitz in October 2019, one of the most fascinating sights of the city was one of these hall houses or merchant palaces that was in the early stages of renovation.

Hall house walls

This was one of my favorite places in Goerlitz, but I’m not sure how long you’ll be able to see it as the exhibit itself closed at the end of that month. They may still allow visits after that without the exhibit, but check at the location on Bruederstrasse 9 or with the local tourist office to be sure.

The exhibit was the architectural equivalent of examining tree rings. You can see over 600 years of life and change to the same building. These palaces are known as hall houses because they are narrow at the front of the building but have long hallways extending hundreds of feet from the street. This particular merchant palace reflects a diverse history of multiple uses over the centuries, the most recent being a residence for low-income citizens of Goerlitz in the 20th century.

Hall house ceiling

Remnants of once glorious ceilings with large photos of the house on the walls.

What makes this such a fascinating find for photographers is that you get to see the building in an untouched state. There’s a derelict feel to the place, exposed plumbing, layers of peeling paint, architectural details worn weary with time. Models of the house help to reveal its former glory, but it takes some imagination. Plus, natural lighting illuminates the empty rooms and corridors in a manner that makes you feel as if you’re witnessing something almost forbidden. It’s as if you’ve sneaked into an abandoned mansion but without fear of being caught.

Like so many hidden places, it will bore some for whom pre-renovated buildings just feel decrepit. For those, head next door to the more opulent Silesian Museum. But if you want to delve into the hidden past, both figurative and literal, you should try and see this place.

Stop 3: The library at Barockhaus

Baroque House kitchenA few doors down from the hall house and the Silesian Museum lies another museum, Barockhaus (the Baroque House) at Neissestrasse 30. Here, you get to see what one of the hall houses looks like furnished. The museum has interesting exhibits of daily life, art and even scientific instruments.

Scientific instrument roomWhy most photographers go here, however, is for the library.

Barockhaus libraryThey charge a few euros if you want to take photos (same with the Holy Trinity Church), but the library alone is worth it if you like the look of old books. Rated by some as one of Europe’s most beautiful, the library used to be even more extensive before much of the scientific works were moved during WWII to the other side of the river into what is now Poland. After the war, those books were never returned. You’ll want a wide-angle lens for the library since you’re limited, unless you’re on a tour, to viewing the the library only from the entrance (hence the shot above). But even with that restricted view, it’s an impressive sight. I used a wide-angle for this shot, but a mid-range telephoto lens would allow you to focus in on the inner arches and open tome in the center on the table.

Stop 4: Restaurants

Goerlitz restaurantsKeep moving down Neissestrasse toward the river and you’ll come across many of Goerlitz’s restaurants. While relatively few Americans visit this city, it’s become quite popular with German tourists and retirees.

Restaurant interior

Interior of the restaurant on the right in the previous photo.

So much so that on a Saturday night in October, we couldn’t get into any of the most popular restaurants until late in the evening since every one of them were reserved. In addition to those shown above on Neissestrasse, other restaurants recommended to us (that were also fully booked) included two on Peterstrasse: Fileto and St. Jonathan.

Gracja interior

Being a bit more casual than the other restaurants we couldn’t get into, we had a nice dinner of traditional Polish specialties here at Gracja next to St. Peter’s church. One beer will put you under here if it’s the size of the one on the right.

Stop 5: The border with Poland

The river NeisseIf you ever want to enter another country without knowing it, just cross the Altstadtbrueke (Old City Bridge) that spans the Neisse river. No sign or other indicator informs you that you are leaving the town of Goerlitz, Germany and entering Zgorzelec, Poland (which was all one city before WWII).

Crossing the bridge to Poland

Is the biker in Poland or Germany? Hard to tell.

So much for the passport stamp.

Goerlitz from Poland sideFrom a photography perspective, you’ll get some great shots of Peterskirche (St. Peters Church, the largest church in Goerlitz), and the neighboring gray Waidhaus (with the red-brown roof), one of the oldest buildings in town, originally used to store the valuable dye-making woad.

Goerlitz from the bridgeYou’ll also get views of both towns down the river banks. Cross over into Zgorzelec for cheap but good restaurants and to watch local German citizens loading up on relatively inexpensive alcohol and cigarettes.

View from the bridgeAfter spending time in Zgorzelec, cross back into Goerlitz and head up the rise to your right. You’ll arrive at the entrance to St. Peter’s Church.

Stop 6: St. Peter’s Church (Peterskirche)

Entrance to St. Peter's churchYou can visit most weekdays (here’s a helpful article on the history of the church and what you’ll see inside ), but one of the best way to appreciate this church is to attend one of their evening concerts where they play the magnificent Sun Organ. Check with the church or the visitor’s center for days and times.

From St. Peter’s Church, you have a few choices. You can follow the map to the next stop, or make a detour and wander back down the river. If you do the latter, just catch up to the next location (Stop 7, Nicolaifriedhof) when you’re ready. And no matter which route you take, spend time just wandering the streets. This, to me, was the best part of Goerlitz.

Side streets of GoerlitzGo up and down almost any street and you’ll see all kinds of historic buildings. Much of the town has been renovated over the last decade due to the generosity of an anonymous donor who spent around 500,000 euros per year from the mid-1990’s until just a few years ago.

Flower boxesThe result are colorfully-painted buildings in place of the drab monotones of the city during the Communist era.

Goerlitz window

Not everything in Goerlitz is fully restored. You’ll find plenty of places that still need some refurbishing.

The old town is small enough that you’re not likely to get lost, so just wander and be sure to take in the many architectural details along the way.

Eventually, end up at the next stop, where, as the old joke goes, people are just dying to get in.

Stop 7: Nicolaifriedhof (St. Nicholas Cemetery)

St. Nicholas graveyard

No, this is not where Santa Claus is buried (who’d deliver all the toys if that were the case?). Instead, it has served as the graveyard for Goerlitz for over 800 years. It’s a quiet place to explore respectfully.

St. Nicholas tombstonesMany of the tombstones and other sculpture also make for interesting photo subjects. If it is open, you can also pop into the St. Nicholas church there.

Exterior of St. Nicholas ChurchNow head back into town to the Untermarkt (lower square) and the Hotel Boerse, the pink building that sits in the center of the square.

Stop 8: The Untermarkt and Hotel Boerse

Bourse Hotel and City Hall

The pink building to the left is the Hotel Boerse. The one to the right is part of the Town Hall.

There are many appealing hotels and guesthouses and apartments in Goerlitz. We chose to stay at the Hotel Boerse because of its history and location. OK, to be honest, we’d heard this was where Wes Anderson and the film crew for The Grand Budapest Hotel stayed. Plus, it looks like it should be in that movie. Actually, we stayed at the guesthouse that is part of the hotel but lies across the square from the main building.

Old Pharmacist's Building

Note how the three top windows watch you like eyes as you look at the astronomical charts on the building’s side

From a photographer’s perspective, this hotel and square provide numerous subjects. Pay attention to the details such as the astronomical notations on the old pharmacist’s building (which now houses the inviting Ratscafe where you can stop for a coffee of snack).

Whispering arch and guesthouse

Note the whispering arch over the doorway in the center of the image

Whispering arch detail

This is a detail of the left side of the whispering arch.

The entrance to our guesthouse across from Hotel Boerse was marked by the Fluesterbogen (Whispering Arch).

A person whispering something on one side can be heard by a listener on the other. It’s like an echo: You try it because others have, but find it’s more remarkable than you expect.

Also of note for shoppers, the little glassworks shop next to the Whispering Arch has some beautiful handmade items. We arrived after the store had closed, but the kind woman reopened and let us buy some quick gifts that were some of the best received items we purchased in Germany. And if you come during the Christmas season, I’m told there’s a Christmas Market that takes place in this same square.

Concluding thoughts

We arrived in Goerlitz on a rainy afternoon and left the following morning after a lovely breakfast at the Bourse Hotel. With the weather and logistics, we had far less time to make photos of this beautiful city than I would have liked. So if you visit Goerlitz, allow at least a full day to take in all that the city offers. And pay attention to all the details, both inside the buildings and outside. I wish we’d had sunnier weather for some of the bigger landscape shots. However, the clouds made it easier to photograph some of these details without glare or too much contrast. Thus, for photographers, any time or weather can result in good images if you take the time (I was a bit rushed) and venture into the side streets.

Arch details

If you look closely, you’ll find architectural details like these throughout Goerlitz. This one contains a hidden reference to Romans 4.

To me, those details are what made this such a fun and attractive city, both aesthetically and photographically.

Goerlitz building details

Some of the many figures on the Waage (the Scales) building in Goerlitz’s Untermarkt

I’ve linked above to various articles, but here are two sites that I found to be very useful for our time in Goerlitz:

Tessa Approves – The blog of an American who lives in Goerlitz.

Visit Goerlitz – Official visitor site for the city.

Finally, if you want to improve your own photography, particularly on a trip, check out my free Guide to Making Awesome Travel Photos.


Buchenwald: Why you should visit a former concentration camp

Buchenwald watch tower

The value of discomfort

It’s easy for me to use travel as a means of escape, pursuing fun places where I forget about work and the worries of home. Yet I’ve also come to appreciate how my times of greatest personal growth occur not during the easy moments, but when I step outside my comfort zone. New lands and unfamiliar cultures will do that for me. But so too will putting myself in situations that bring about discomfort in other ways.

This is why, in part, on a recent trip to Germany, my wife and I decided to visit the Buchenwald Memorial, site of the first and largest concentration camp in Germany during WWII.

Located just outside of Weimar, the cultural epicenter of the country, Buchenwald was also used after the war by the Soviet secret police for their prisoners. Today, little remains other than sections of the original fence, the entrance gate, the foundations of the barracks and the crematory where they burned the bodies of some of the 56,000 people who died there.

These scant reminders, combined with a visitor center filled with emotionally devastating artifacts and stories, are more than enough to give you a sense of the horrific tragedy that happened to over a quarter of a million inmates there.

I came knowing the place would affect me emotionally. But I wasn’t prepared for the surprising ways it did that.

Buchenwald fence

Buchenwald prisoners' clothing

Buchenwald statsWhat you don’t expect in places like Buchenwald

I expected to confront the evils of the past. But what I faced was more than history. The same forces that led to such horrors are still at play today, all around me. And here’s the scary part: Maybe within me.

For example, for all the atrocities described in the exhibit, it wasn’t just what the SS and Gestapo did that wrenched me. I anticipated reading about their appalling deeds. What I hadn’t foreseen was how hard it would hit me to learn of the “ordinary” people of Germany – people like me – who chose to look the other way in the case of the concentration camps.

An elderly German friend of mine who lived through WWII recently told me, regarding the concentration camps, “We had no idea.” She resided far from any of the main camps, so I wanted to believe her. But her response was the same as that stated by the local townspeople when the Allied forces liberated Buchenwald in April, 1945. “We just didn’t know,” they said. And yet, the evidence indicates otherwise.

Many of the prisoners from the camp were forced to work in local factories, side by side with the town citizens to build armaments and other products for the war effort. Upon liberation, the prisoners informed the British, American and Canadian forces that they had told the townspeople what the conditions were like. Plus, all you had to do was look at the emaciated bodies of the prisoners to know something about the desperate conditions in the camp. But still, these same locals repeated their excuse long after the war: “We just didn’t know.” They intentionally chose to look the other way and do nothing.

Entry gate to Buchenwald

This phrase, “Jedem das Seine” means basically, to each his own. It was twisted by the Nazis to imply that all the prisoners were there of their own doing.

Roma and Sinti people memorial

This monument was set up in memory of the Roma and Sinti people killed in all the concentration camps. Each stone pillar represents one of the many camps throughout Europe in WWII.


Feeding bowls of prisoners

If you lost your food bowl at the concentration camp, you starved.

Asking the hard questions from Buchenwald

Personal items from prisoners

Personal items taken from the prisoners at Buchenwald

I find it easy to condemn such apathy until I ask the question, “What would I have done?” Then, it isn’t so simple. Nor so comfortable. Self-preservation is a powerful force for all of us. And making the right choice would have been even more difficult if you lived in a culture of intentional, cultivated fear. The exhibits at Buchenwald document how the Nazis went to great lengths to determine with ruthless efficiency what would strike the most terror in both prisoners and the general population. They were fiendishly clever at devising ways to turn neighbor against neighbor. Under such circumstances, knowing – much less doing – the right thing would have become increasingly difficult.

But what about today? What about me?

Travel has a way of holding a mirror up to our lives. Particularly in difficult locations such as Buchenwald, you have to ask – and try to answer – questions that rarely come up amidst your daily routines. And the hardest one for me is that personal one, “What would I have done?”

I can’t really say.

Or maybe I can.

I just don’t want to.

Because when I confronted the horror of Buchenwald, I had to confront one even closer. And that’s the realization that if I were one of those locals living in Weimar during WWII, if I’m honest, I’d probably would have done the same thing and looked the other way. Like them, I would have asked, “What can I realistically do that will not get me or my loved ones killed?”

It’s an uncomfortable realization. But so are most of the deeper, lasting truths in our lives. They tend to be hard-earned and not always pleasant in the acquisition. But they stay with us and cause us to rethink some basic premises about our lives. Both on a trip and then for long afterwards.

Display of shoes
Medical examination table

Nazi doctors conducted unimaginable medical experiments on prisoners here

Buchenwald crematorium

The crematory where bodies were incinerated

Living with the truth 

The awareness that within me lies the capacity for great courage but also great cowardice, however, was only half of the surprising lessons from Buchenwald.

The other aha came from a recognition of just how interconnected we all are. I didn’t just read stories of Jews, Poles, Communists, Roma and others imprisoned there. I read of people like me thrust into horrific situations. How they suffered. How some overcame. How all were affected in ways beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. I left Buchenwald with a poignant sense of shared humanity, of identification with people who are more like me than unlike me. That’s something that the Nazis could never see. They sought to demonize and dehumanize others. But a trip to Buchenwald made me appreciate on a visceral level just how wrong that is, both then and now.

I walked away with this odd combination of bone-deep sadness, unexpected connection and a moral outrage tempered in my judgments against others by the realization that I could easily have been one of those others – on either side of that barbed-wire fence.  

It’s hard to explain this complex reaction. Which is why I encourage everyone who plans to travel anywhere near the location of a former concentration camp to make the effort to visit one of these memorial sites. To see. To better understand. To not forget. And to not let anyone else forget either.

Traveling to places such as Buchenwald isn’t fun. But sometimes we need to go to the dark places, in our world and in ourselves, to remember how much light there is. And to bring that light ever forward.

Buchenwald concentration camp



This is a very different take on the topic of Looking the Other Way, but it shows just how many ways there are to see the world differently. And why even difficult places such as Buchenwald help us to grasp the world we live in, both the good and the bad, the world around us and the world inside us. You can read other entries in this series here:

Look the other way: Budir Black Church

Look the other way: Kirkjufell, Iceland

Look the other way: Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg, Russia

Find what you love

Find what you love - Puppet Maker's ShopUse your trip to find what you love

Trips provide intriguing opportunities to find what you love. And for me, the best moments on a trip — those powerful, defining, magic moments — are ones so filled with meaning and emotion that I wish to linger long and absorb them. And yet, I never quite can, for I must inevitably move on. That leaves me with a poignant sensation of both loss and gain. I find something that deeply moves me in a place (gain). Yet as a traveler, I cannot stay in that place (loss). Still, I can take something of great value with me from the experience of having been there (long-term gain). I lose the place but gain the moment and all that it entails.

These defining moments are ones I can create for myself or others (as I discovered in Italy and Slovenia). But they often arrive unannounced. I open a door, sometimes figuratively and sometimes literally (as what happened to me on a recent visit to Erfurt, Germany) and I enter a different world. And in that world, in unexpected ways, I discover a great passion and even, sometimes, a greater sense of purpose.

Erfurt's Kramerbrucke (Merchant's Bridge)The puppet maker of Erfurt

In the heart of Erfurt sits the Krämerbrücke (Merchants’ bridge). Built of stone in 1325 over the Gera river, half-timbered homes and businesses sit atop the bridge making it the largest and oldest inhabited bridge in Europe (sorry, Ponte Vecchio in Florence: you’re number two). Over time, a number of craftspeople have moved in with studios and shops. One of them, Martin Gobsch, makes hand-carved wooden puppets there. Or so it seems. For what he really creates is magic.

Outside his shop is a miniature window theater.

Theatrum Mundi, ErfurtDrop in a euro, and a sinister-looking queen pulls back her cape-draped arm to reveal a fantastical scene of Snow White and industrious dwarfs moving about. It’s a mechanical marvel that would delight any child. And yet those who linger longest and whose expressions reflect the most childlike wonder are adults like me.

Step inside his shop, and the awe grows. Magnificently carved wooden figures and corresponding drawings make you feel as if you’re part of a fairy tale. Most people who enter Martin’s workshop leave enchanted. But for me, it was something more.

I had found what I love.

A different kind of connection

If you look at the factors that Dan and Chip Heath note in their book, The Power of Moments, as most contributing to a magic moment, one of them has curious dimensions beyond its obvious intent. The concept of “Connection” normally implies that you have moments where you feel a deep relational tie to others, a collective experience of joy, pain or deep sentiment as in a wedding or funeral. But Connection works as well on the emotional level where you connect to something within you, a past memory that triggers all sorts of associations and feelings.

Martin Gobsch at workMy favorite visual example of this is in the Pixar movie, Ratatouille, when the food critic Anton Ego tastes the dish of the same name as the movie. Immediately, he’s transported to his mother’s kitchen as a boy eating the same food. So it was for me in Martin Gobsch’s shop. The lighting, architecture and decor took me back to Merlin’s Magic Shop at Disneyland where I worked as a magician through college. And his Theatrum Mundi (the name of the window theater) also reminded me of the elaborate window displays at Disneyland I used to marvel at as a child.

Tie all that into my adult experience working in my own wood shop at home (equally untidy yet remarkably well-suited to the work at hand) and you get a collective experience that is more than a trip down memory lane. Stepping into Martin’s studio provided a connection of deep emotional resonance to the subtle factors and ingredients of delight that made those past experiences so formative for me, in my youth and even today.

Martin Gobsch's shopFind what you love: The power of inspiration

In the video above, Martin Gobsch says that one of his goals is to inspire others, not just to experience wonder, but to create and make things by hand. It’s not a craft, he notes, that’s been passed down to him so much as one that has died out that he is now re-establishing. When I spent time with him in that shop, examining all the details of his work and asking him questions about it, I too was inspired to spend more time drawing, carving, woodworking and making more things by hand. All of these are things I love but rarely make time for.

A friend once noted that we value more something we’ve had, lost and have found again than gaining something new. I think that’s true, in part because of the emotional attachments we form even with inanimate objects that have become part of our lives. In a similar manner, I find that when I return to what I love but have left unheeded too long, it’s like a brand-new discovery only better. I get the same delight of connecting with something I enjoy, but along with that comes all the memories of past related experiences. I find what I love all over again.

Find what you love - Drawings of puppets

Find what you love – Drawings of puppets – copyright 2019 by Steve Brock

Find what you love: The takeaway for you

When you’re someplace new, whether on a vacation or just in a new situation, pay close attention to what triggers your attention. When I first read about the puppet maker, though I have only a passing interest in puppets, the fact that this artisan carved them from wood by hand intrigued me. I’m always interested in seeing artists, particularly sculptors and woodworkers, at work in their shops or studios. I wanted to make sure, if possible, that I found his place of work and I’m so glad I did.

For you, if something even hints at connecting to a deeper interest, pursue that. It may feel silly or unimportant at first, but you never know where it will lead. Make it a quest to find what brings you your greatest joy. Trips allow you the freedom to do this in ways you can’t — or won’t — at home. You won’t usually find what you care most about unless you go looking for it, even if you’re not entirely sure how it might manifest itself. And even though you may come across it in an unexpected place or manner, often it is the effort of the pursuit that gives you the eyes to see it – or clues of it – when you come across it.

Puppets and sketches - ErfurtWhen you do, you leave transfixed and transformed. In cases such as this one, where it connects to creative passions and interests, it leaves you inspired. Not just to keep discovering. But to eventually return home and make something yourself.

And when you do that, you find what you love all over again.



Something for everyone


Beer steins in the Hofbrauhaus

In Munich, Germany, at the famous Hofbrauhaus brewery, locals hang out at tables assigned specifically for them. They also keep their beer steins locked in racks that only they and other locals can access. This, in part, is what separates the tourists from the locals.

And yet even though there’s a clear cultural divider there between insiders and outsiders, everyone is welcome.

It’s the same here: You may be new to travel or not think of yourself as a creative person. And yet you will find information here that can help you not only travel and create better, but appreciate life in a whole new way. So give it a shot and see. Who knows? You may have your own table here in no time…