When you burn out make sure to leave a mark.

Adventures in the quaint little world of St. Augustine bring all sorts of delights. So, one afternoon with no real plan in mind, the lovely Christina and I took to the streets after lunch with some good friends (and some Canadians who soon became friends) in search of all things beautiful. Motorcycles lined the streets for the yearly Biketoberfest and the sun shined brightly against buildings so old, each layer of cracked paint exposed another unexpected color beneath it, hinting at a history of secrets no one but the streets will ever know. We stumbled upon vintage treasures in a shop owned by a woman who could actually remember the times each item was from, and cool enough to have worn it all. At the end of our little fairy tale, we sipped coffee and indulged in creme pastries and croissants at a French cafe tucked away so well, we might not have noticed it, had we not been looking.

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