Dispatches from Scotland, where the people are warm and the weather is wet. Read more.
I was the guest of the Brazilian tourism organization, EMBRATUR, and of Brazil Ecojourneys, a tour specialist in southern Brazil and operator of an annual LGBT surf camp. Read more.
Outside the main gates of Maracanã Stadium in Rio de Janeiro, there is a statue of the captain of Brazil’s first World Cup-winning football team, Hilderaldo Luiz Bellini. Cast in bronze, the defender stands atop a vast sphere, with a ball tucked under his left hand and a trophy held aloft in his right. Read more.
I love my life as a bachelor (or, as one friend suggested, a “biatchelor”), but there are times – February stands out – when romantic love gets blown all out of proportion and even I feel the need to share with someone. Read more.
Maybe it was another lover responsible for our separation, or maybe it was my personal failings. She gave me both these explanations and then she gave me more, until I realized that there was nothing left for either of us to say. Read more.
I made a mental note to tell my dad: a Soviet-era fold-out couch feels like a bed of fists. Read more.
In 2015, I joined eight other international queer journalists in Vienna where we discovered why it is consistently voted the world’s most liveable city. Read more.
The Women’s World Cup attracted a record number of viewers, putting to bed the idea that nobody cares about the women’s game. In the United States, they welcomed home their champion team with a ticker-tape parade. Read more.
Peruana fùtbolistas often face resistance from family, but the sport has proved to be an extremely effective tool for empowering communities. Read more.
Families are weird. Read more.