Over the last Christmas I took a trip to Europe. After a quick day stop in Paris (great city even in the winter) and a complete nightmare of a six hour flight delay I was on my way home. The following two weeks were probably the highest point of the year. I got to re-discover my home town in a way I barely knew before.
Plovdiv is the oldest city in Europe and in the top 10 in the whole world (google it !) The history of 7000 years exudes from every rock or brick all over the city. There is literally something written on every stone one picks up, in languages that have been dead for ages.
People can see how one era built on top of the former and there are buildings with foundations from the times of Spatacus and roofs from the turn of the century.
I spent long time discovering the same place I lived for 20 years and never saw it in such a way. Which only confirmed my mesmerism of the saddest human ability to appreciate something only when they lose it or go away from it.