If we can collectively agree on one thing, it’s that the world has reached an unprecedented global stress level in the past couple years that has brought us together in a mutual struggle to stay sane. The macrocosmic angst stemming from an obnoxious pandemic caught us all off guard, abruptly cutting us off from basic freedoms we took for granted.

For centuries, the Italian island of Sardinia has been playing a game of tug of war with its deep African roots and rich European ancestry, yet this gem remains underrated in the mass travel world. Sardinia is a place of wonder, proudly owning second place in size among the islands of the Mediterranean. It is most famous for having some of the bluest waters in the world.

I never thought I’d return to Morocco as a traveler - especially having lived here for 20 years. Isn’t travel supposed to offer perpetual excitement of being in an unfamiliar place? Shouldn’t it have an element of the unknown by default? That’s what I thought too, until recently. Born in Marrakech in the late 80s and raised in Fez and Rabat throughout the 90s, I lived in a relatively untouched Morocco, before it gained worldwide fame as a boho-chic tourist hotspot.

The Scotland of our dreams is a shared one. A castle perched at the edge of a misty loch that ripples with secrets and tales of old. Wild heather blows in from the moors with its glorious hues of mauve. Cloud-softened light gathers in patches as thin rays make their way past the Highland peaks. A fjord crashes into a serene valley of green while a distant bagpipe skirls over daring cliffs.