My Run-In with Benjamin Bratt
Cartagena is hot. Not ‘Oh, let me grab my sunhat’ hot. More like ‘I am melting into the pavement and will soon become one with the earth’ hot. By midday, I had transformed from carefree traveler to overheated swamp creature. So, when we walked into a fancy restaurant without even changing clothes, I was already feeling like a sweaty disaster. But I was not prepared for what happened next: a full-body collision with Benjamin Bratt’s bare chest.
The Miracle of Cake in a Sea of Cathedrals: How one man’s quest for dessert turned a routine stop into an unforgettable adventure.
As we savored the unexpected treat, we couldn’t help but admire Ted’s audacity. Who would’ve guessed that a Kremówka truck could lead to such joy? In hindsight, we all wished we’d followed him instead of trudging through yet another church.