Some places stay with you longer than others.
Not always because they were the most beautiful.
Not because you saw everything there.
And not even because something extraordinary happened.
Sometimes a place just becomes attached to a certain version of you.
A street you walked down every morning.
A café you only visited once.
The view from a hotel room.
A city you did not expect to love as much as you did.
And then you leave.
You go home, unpack your suitcase, continue with your life, and technically the trip is over.
But every now and then, something brings the place back.
A song.
A smell.
A certain kind of light.
Someone speaking the language.
A photo you had completely forgotten about.
And suddenly, for a second, you are there again.
I think that is one of my favourite things about travelling.
You never really come back with only photos and souvenirs.
You bring back little pieces of places without even noticing.
Maybe that is why some cities start to feel strangely familiar, even when you were only there for a few days.
They become connected to a feeling.
Freedom.
Excitement.
Calm.
Curiosity.
Sometimes even a version of yourself that only seems to exist when you are away.
And I think that is why certain places can make you homesick even though they were never home.
Not because you necessarily want to move there.
Not because life there was perfect.
But because something about the way you felt there stayed with you.
Long after you left.