Slow-Paced Living in Old-World Europe

It’s 6:30 a.m. and I’m out the door for my daily run along the winding mountain roads. Cowherds and their cattle pass me; they are on their way to new grazing grounds. The salt-water wind kisses my face as I make my way past fields of wheat and myrtle. After four years of running these roads, I no longer get strange looks. The locals are used to the crazy Canadian!

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