Stories from the Side Streets
When the lights flickered out in the old spice market, our guide hummed a vendor’s counting song, and stalls echoed the melody to keep orders straight. We finished by candle glow, laughing like neighbors.
Stories from the Side Streets
A grandmother spotted our guide tracing a family name on a lintel and invited us to knead dough on her doorstep. We left with floury fingers, a scribbled recipe, and permission to share the memory here.