Imagine walking through a forest—only instead of trees, it’s a maze of colossal stone columns, each etched with sacred symbols, each one whispering stories from over 3,000 years ago. That’s the Temple of Karnak, a place where time folds in on itself and the divine still seems just a step away.

Picture yourself wandering the colorful, cobbled streets of Guanajuato, a colonial-era city with alleyways that twist like an Escher drawing. You round a corner, and suddenly — there it is. A man made of bronze. Or is it stone? You pause. Then blink. He blinks back. Startled laughter erupts around you — because that statue? It’s alive.