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I grew up on the foothills of the Pennines, just outside of the metropolis of Manchester. For most of my childhood, I’d relish the trips into the city by train or by car to wander through the Victorian-era streets, experience the excitement of the stores that lined the streets, and explore the farmers’ markets that brought food from the verdant countryside into the beating heart of England’s northwest. With its recent boom in modern office blocks and residential towers (which, as you can see in the picture, doesn’t quite blend in with the city’s more historic architecture), it’s a city that’s constantly changing. The slightly scrappier and edgier counterpart to the more prim and proper London (an assertion I’m sure we’ll see challenged in this course), Manchester is a city that’s energetic, welcoming, and not afraid to be itself.

I’ve never lived anywhere but Manhattan, or, at the very least, I’ve never been from anywhere else.

When I return, I find solace in the reflecting pool at Lincoln Center and solitary runs around The Reservoir when the

cherry blossoms are in full bloom. And I’ll find a bodega coated corner for Sunday flowers and wander side streets and groves of brownstones.

Sydney is not only my home, but also my favourite city in the world. The mix of vibrant city culture and relaxed beach vibes combine to form a city whose essence is truly unique. As an avid lover of the water, the beaches in Sydney are (in my not so biased opinion) some of the best Australia has to offer. While the harbour beaches offer something different to those that line the Pacific coast, both are worth visiting on a hot summer’s day.

When most people think of Croatia, they think of Game of Thrones and of Dubrovnik’s — King’s Landing in the popular television series — famous white stucco houses with red-tiled roofs. For me, the small, coastal country of Croatia is even more special. It is the country my grandmother is from, the country most of my extended relatives still live in, and the country I visit most in my travels. 

In my opinion, Croatia’s best feature is not the well-known Dubrovnik, which is both plagued by and reliant on high levels of tourism and cruise ships. Instead, the lesser-known Rijeka, home to my great-uncle and the rest of my family, is the city that most feels like home in a country that is alternately familiar and utterly foreign to me. Wandering the streets eating ćevapčići, shopping in the neighboring town of Opatija, spending days on my great-uncle’s small sailboat — in my mind, Rijeka will always be a sunny city of delicious fried fish, barely plausible family folklore and constant laughter. Although I am currently trapped inside and listening to snow pelt the window of my dorm room, I still can’t help but smile when I think about Rijeka (and begin counting down the days until I feel that sun again!).

I haven’t traveled much, but Nairobi, seen here at night, is perhaps the greatest of all the cities I’d been to.

Though I grew up in Kenya, I came to Nairobi only much later,  when I was old enough to discover the world on my own. Initially, the city resisted me, as I imagine all cities do first—it was scary, it was overwhelming. I stayed on and as my memories of the city piled up, it slowly opened up to me and I eventually fell in love.

I clearly recall the moment I felt at home in Nairobi. It happened in Ramadan, Islam’s holiest month. One night, my friends and I were walking to a mosque at the heart of the city, and as happens sooner or later in every city, we got mugged. Later in the month, while walking from the mosque, we got mugged again. But one of the robbers recognized us at the last minute and returned our items. And it hit me just then: this was home and even the robbers knew us.

And now I miss home dearly.

The longer I’ve lived in different cities, the more I understand there is a common thread that connects them: a cosmopolitan crowd, a constant cacophony of all the life around you, the phantom of history echoing from the buildings—this city, whichever one it may be, was a Muse for many before me and it will continue to be long after I’m gone. What transforms a city from just another one to a favourite, a city you’d want to write about for a test post, then must be memories. My favourite city is Istanbul; my fondest memories are in Istanbul.

I remember walking on my own for the first time, waiting for the metro, having a city open up its secrets to me as I walked. I remember the first time I’d gone on the red tramway, a centennial by that point in its career, groaning at the labour of ceaselessly carrying all that weight for years. I remember the first time I’d heard the Eine Kleine because the busker playing the piece knew it was bound to attract audiences. I remember, perhaps most vividly and longingly, however, the ferry.

Unless it is cold enough that I cannot feel my toes, I will do my best to sit on the top of the ferry, where the wind cradles you as you hear the waves lapping, creating a foam such that Aphrodite might emerge at any moment inside her shell, the smell of iodine is gently making its way to your nose. Swaddled by the sounds of conversations melding into one gentle lullaby, you think you must have found Time’s pocket and there you can find shelter until the ferry’s horn breaks the spell and the journey is over for now.

Madrid is my favorite city! And my favorite place to go in Madrid is probably el Mercado de San Miguel.

I’ve been told all my life that I’m a minimalist, and although I find that to be a little extreme, it’s more or less true. So long as I’m well-fed, safe, and have comfy clothes, I am quite content. So, when I was told I would be relocating to Redmond for my internship, I didn’t give it any thought. I wanted to intern at Microsoft, it was in Redmond, so I was in Redmond.

Perhaps it was this lack of expectation that made the city so remarkable to me. Much like an infant marvels at the things an adult considers mundane, I was awestruck by Redmond’s beauty, efficiency, and cleanliness. I enjoyed being outside so much that I would take the hour-long walk from work to my room just to appreciate the city. Bikes crossed my path from time to time, but on these walks I was mostly alone and at peace, gazing at the mountains in the distance and listening to the chirps of the birds flying overhead.

Should I ever wish to experience something more exciting, I could rely on the public transportation system. The buses were punctual, clean, and rarely crowded. My internship allowed me a free bus pass, so I used it whenever I could. In my down time I travelled to the movies, apartments to meet friends for the fourth of July, and festivals throughout the summer. Once, I even went on a hike (despite my lack of physical preparedness for such a feat) so I could better enjoy the nature in the area. I loved being in Redmond, and I hope I get a chance to visit again!