The boat ride starts off like any other through the ancient canals of Xochimilco. There's laughter in the distance, floating mariachi music, and the occasional splash of an oar. But then your trajinera turns away from the main path. The air gets still. The water darkens. The laughter fades. You're no longer headed toward a party—you’re heading into a ghost story.
If you think you’ve seen all that Bali has to offer—surf beaches, hip cafés, infinity pools overlooking rice terraces—think again.
On the eastern shores of Lake Batur lies a village that defies logic, science, and perhaps even death itself. Welcome to Desa Trunyan, a place where the dead are not buried, not cremated—but left in the open air. And strangely? There’s no smell.
Some cities whisper their stories through quiet alleyways. Montreal doesn’t whisper—it sings, dances, flirts, and occasionally yells across a bustling street in French. This island city in Quebec is where North America meets Paris, where centuries-old stone buildings rub shoulders with experimental art, and where maple syrup meets espresso.