Tag: travel guide

How to Kiss the Blarney Stone

It is a curious practice we have of kissing a 330 million-year-old dirty limestone. Legend has it that those who kiss the Blarney Stone are given the “gift of gab.” What is gab, anyway?  And more importantly, why do we want it?  Being a “talker” isn’t usually the most desirable trait — am I wrong?
Shockingly, kissing the Blarney Stone was not on my shortlist of priorities during my month-long tour of the Irish coast, inspired by Rick Steves.  The city of Cork was on my shortlist, however, a gorgeous city well-worth a visit in southern Ireland, just a two-and-a-half hour train ride from Dublin.  Blarney Castle, where you find the Blarney Stone, is a short trip outside of Cork.
When I arrived in Cork I didn’t have much of an itinerary planned, which is how I like to travel.  My Irish-American father reminded me of the once-in-a-lifetime Ireland trip my great aunts made many decades ago, which had included a trip to kiss the Blarney Stone.  So I thought, sigh, OK.  Twist my arm. Why not?
I started hinting to new Irish friends that I was considering kissing the Blarney Stone, and they were mostly all disgusted with me – in the most positive of ways, of course.  I have become accustomed to being balked at by locals for my tourist activities, as this kind of reaction was akin to what I experienced in Austria when I told people I went to Salzburg partly to visit The Sound of Music locations. And could I really blame the Irish for judging me for deciding to willingly risk infection from swapping spit with strangers for the chance at acquiring the gift of gab?
My Irish friends were more than a few steps ahead of me in understanding this endeavor, as I was starting to realize I had no idea what I was getting into.  My first clue should have been when our tour bus driver included a disclaimer about being afraid of heights before we set off to the Blarney Castle from Cork. Strange, I thought, having imagined the stone fixed in the middle of a glorious garden with a sword sticking out of it.
_MG_5882
I soon discovered my childhood fantasies weren’t anything close to reality.  Shocker.
IMG_7455
After entering the gorgeous-beyond-your-wildest-expectations grounds of the Blarney Castle via a Disneyland-esque entrance, it took me a while to recover from my shock at the beauty of my surroundings and make my way toward the Blarney Castle, where we were told we would find the stone.
_MG_5854
Inside the castle itself there isn’t much to see above what you would expect from an old castle.  You know, the typical dungeon down below and a dusty “kitchen” that looks more like a few piles of old rubble.
_MG_6076_edited
Having been built many hundreds of years before people considered the handicapped in their architecture, the claustrophobic, winding staircase that was the only way to get to the Blarney Stone – which was apparently on the roof – left much to be desired.  It was not my first medieval staircase but it was definitely the most memorable.
mg_5922.jpg
Grateful to see the light of day again on the roof of the Blarney Castle, I took a moment to catch my breath but promptly lost it again when I had a moment to take in the view of the immense and lush grounds from above.  I busied myself taking photos of the view while I worked up the nerve for what came next, which I had by this time understood that this kissing the Blarney Stone business was somehow designed more for gymnasts than your average tourist, requiring you to lay on your back and lean off the edge of the roof and kiss the stone upside down.  Being there early in the day meant no line and not very ample opportunity to fester in my surprise and back out of the whole endeavor.  The dramatic American women who arrived just behind me didn’t calm my apprehension with their loud proclamations of “barely” making it up the staircase, and one woman’s tearful protest and insistence on leaving.
_MG_5925_edited
I also considered sneaking down the exit staircase, but was heartened by the piles of anti-bacterial spray and paper towels sitting by the stone’s setup, and was spurred along by the ladies that had eventually decided to go for it.
_MG_5905
“Your turn” the jolly Irish Blarney Castle worker yelled at me, and the photographer asked me if I wanted a photo.
_MG_5910
I was too busy fending the two off to think much about what was going on, which was that I suddenly found myself hanging backwards, upside-down, to kiss the Blarney Stone.  It was cold, and hard. And dry, thankfully.  The jolly Irish gentleman helped me up, and it was all over before I knew it.
IMG_7471
It took about three minutes to recover from the whole ordeal.  At which time I don’t know that I was overwhelmed with a gift of gab so much as a feeling of relief and – ok, yes, accomplishment – for this small yet important task I had, surprisingly, completed.  While the tradition wasn’t so revered by the local Irish, my experience kissing the Blarney Stone made me feel closer to my aunts that had done the same thing so many years ago, probably as a nod to the heritage that their parents brought with them when they came to the U.S.
_MG_6112
The trip down the staircase was notably easier than going up.  And I spent the remaining time we had allotted by the tour company exploring the grounds of the castle.
_MG_6155
The size and scope of the property and the imagination and meticulousness with which it was tended made me feel like I was winding my way through a living museum of Irish history.
_MG_6030_reduced
I could have spent days there learning from the stories that the plants and architecture were telling.
I always say my first visit to a country or city, and even an attraction, is my “throw-away” trip, where I learn what I like and don’t like, and if I want to return, what I would do to make my second visit as perfect as it could be. The Blarney Castle is absolutely a place I will return, and give myself plenty of time to get lost in the gardens. The gift of gab, though, I have plenty of. So next time around, the smooching of the Blarney Stone I’ll leave to my tourist friends.
_MG_6075
_MG_5976
_MG_6023

Vlog: Gracefully Global Goes to Ireland – A celebration of music on the Emerald Isle

My time in Ireland this year developed in me a love for the Irish that will never go away. Of the many qualities I fell in love with about the Irish is their love of music, poetry, and performance.  This was the connection to my family heritage that I subconsciously sought after.  My grandpa was a first-generation Irish-American and a paid actor in FDR’s Works Progress Administration.  This video prompted my dad to tell me for the first time that my grandpa had also been a singing waiter in Brooklyn.  The pieces of family history are slowly but surely coming together, and I thank my time in Ireland for a lot of that.

Since leaving Ireland, I’ve told so many stories of the special nights in the Irish pubs with locals singing and dancing, that I drove up a bit of demand for sharing the beautiful music and performance that I experienced. So, I decided to make my next vlog be a focus on the music I experienced during my trip.  This is my edit of the sounds from a few of my favorite performances I witnessed, which I paired with video I took on my phone of some of Ireland’s beautiful landscapes. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you make it to Ireland soon.

Oh, and don’t forget to turn your sound up!   🙂

My first backdoor experience at the Colosseum

I must admit, as far as travel experiences go, visiting the Colosseum never ranked highly on my list of favorites.   Until recently, that is.  The mass confusion entering the Colosseum and the stress of dealing with their stringent yet non-communicative ticket office, followed by feeling pretty much like one of a million sheep, and not much to do once inside other than take selfies or watch other people take selfies really downgraded the experience for me.
When my extended family came to visit Rome and asked me to help them organize their trip, I was struggling my way through the Colosseum website and thought, “There must be a better way.”  And entered, The Roman Guy.  But more on that later.

Frankly, Colosseum ticketing options are not ideal.  I’ve had first-hand experience through my work managing on-site logistics for groups of American and Australian university students with CISabroad.  Often we opt to pay the reserved group entry (which is an additional cost on top of the ticket to enter).  The group entry has its own entrance a bit closer to the metro stop than the single ticket entrance, but, ironically, there is always a line at the reserved group entry, and eventually, this “special” entrance converges with the non-reserved single ticket entry line.

A small part of the line to get into the Colosseum.


Being fairly disillusioned with the group entry options, I eventually decided to try arriving early with one of my groups and give the unreserved entry line a go, only to find out after waiting a half hour that I was prohibited from purchasing more than 12 tickets at a time.  I’m not sure how I would have known this rule in advance, but whatever the case, now I finally understood the need for reserving the otherwise unhelpful group entry in advance.
The final solution for entry into the Colosseum is to purchase your single tickets online in advance and print them out at home.  Then when you arrive at the single ticket entry line, you have access to a special line for people who purchased online, which moves a bit faster.

All that to say, there isn’t really an ideal solution.  Until I finally rolled up my sleeves and was determined to find a better way.  That’s when The Roman Guy came in.  The Roman Guy sounds like one guy, but it is actually a robust Italian tour company based in Rome.  They have a lot of different tour options for exploring the Colosseum with a guide such as Colosseum underground and floor tours.


The idea of having someone else manage the craziness of getting us into the Colosseum was reason enough for me to book, but the tour also resolved my other primary disappointment with visiting the Colosseum: the lack of information about Colosseum history available to visitors.  Having a trained guide would really open up the experience for us, giving us the narrative that would make the place come alive.
The day of our tour arrived, we met our Roman Guy guide, and everything started out smoothly and normally.  But then everything was suddenly different.

The backdoor entry to the Colosseum was empty other than us.

We passed the mobs of people waiting in the three lines I had mentioned, kept walking around to the back of the Colosseum, and stopped in front of a back gate.  I was flabbergasted.  There was no one at this back gate.  Our guide simply called the name of the guard, he came over, opened the door for us, and we walked into the Colosseum.

HALLELUJAH.
Instead of the typical mixture of stress, anxiety, and annoyance that I carry with me after finally getting through all of the hurdles to enter the Colosseum, we merely just walked in.  I was in heaven.

We then proceeded to walk onto a deck perched just above the floor of the Colosseum.  Every trip I’d made here, I’d seen people on this deck from the other side, and always wondered what this magic place was that was not accessible to us.  Well, now I finally understood.

The view I usually have, without a guided tour, of the exclusive access area to the Colosseum.


This area was regulated by Colosseum staff, and only a certain amount of visitors can be there for a given amount of time (20 minutes or so, maybe a half hour), meaning there was plenty of space to move around and take pictures.  Since The Roman Guy is registered with the Colosseum, they can reserve this special entrance onto the Colosseum floor (and other restricted access areas), and bring people in through the back entrance.

I was such a happy camper that I took a rare selfie.
My stepbrother with his wife, his brother-in-law, and his parents-in-law.


We had plenty of time (and space) to take photos, and then our sweet Roman Guy guide, an archaeologist, started explaining the highlights of the Colosseum history.

Our sweet and knowledgeable guide had great visuals to accompany her talks.

We walked around nearly the whole Colosseum together, up to the second level, then ducked here and there, finding shade, water, and places to rest, as she explained fun facts.  My favorite trivia was about the female gladiators.  I had no idea they existed!  We also learned that the ruins across the street were ruins of a gladiator training school.  So cool.

We had a lot of fun. 🙂


The second part of our tour took place across from the Colosseum at the Forum and Palatine Hill, where we learned about the fascinating Virgin Vessels, and our guide showed us where Caesar was cremated.  I’d been to the Forum many times but had never noticed the tiny sign that points out this incredible history of the temple, now partly in ruins.

The Roman Forum is so incredible it doesn’t seem real, but there are no historical explanations so we were so glad to have a guide.


I had a few favorite moments, including when she pointed out a piece of what would have been a massive statue, and now all that remains is a foot.  I wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise, and it is rumored to be good luck to touch the pinky so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Touching the toe for good luck.


The tour finally wound down, and our guide shared one last insight with us.  “Rome is like lasagna,” she said. “It is full of many layers, all of them worth discovering and savoring.”


I loved that moment, as it really made me think, and appreciate all the insight that this lovely archeologist guide brought to our experience that we would have missed if we had done it alone.  It is an experience that I won’t soon forget.

 
 
 

How I pick my guides: Enjoying cocktails and sunset with The Roman Guy

Big cities can be quite a puzzle to get to know, and Rome is no exception.  Even tougher still, Rome’s huge tourism economy makes it tricky to discover how to deviate from the beaten path.  I’ve been to Rome about ten times, and I still don’t feel like I could confidently recommend a restaurant for dinner, for example.

When my extended family called me in Bologna a few months ago and told me they’d be in Rome and wanted me to show them around, I knew it was definitely time to brush up on those dinner recommendations, among other things.  It was time to work on my Roman game.  

It was a huge relief when they told me they were willing to spend a bit of money for the experience they wanted to have.  Having a fantastic time in Rome is totally possible without spending much money.  The catch is that it takes quite a bit of advance planning and research, which they didn’t have, and neither did I, really.

I immediately thought of finding them a high-quality walking tour of Rome.  In my work managing logistics for CISabroad, I’ve come to really respect a good city guide.  That being said, not all guides are created equal, as the job requires a curious combination of social aptitude, knowledge, and passion for their city.  If you manage to find a good guide, what they offer is invaluable: a personalized, in-depth local’s perspective on the city you’re visiting. Which is kind of the ideal offering when visiting a new place.

Once I find a guide I really like, and the company they work for is easy to work with, I find I usually like all the guides from that company, and can explore other tours they offer.  But finding that company can be tricky.  For my family’s trip, I was searching for a great guide and a unique tour that didn’t focus too much on history or culture, as my family is more of the sporty type.  So when I stumbled upon The Roman Guy’s Cocktail bars in Rome: Evening Walking Tour, it seemed to be the perfect solution and I booked it immediately.  Let me tell you, my family really appreciates a good cocktail.  The Roman Guy is a big operation, offering many different types of tours, and lots of guides.  They pretty much bent over backward to get my family set up with three tours, with just a couple of days notice.

Piazza Colonna, Rome.

We met our The Roman Guy guide, Fiona, in Piazza Colonna.  She immediately endeared herself to us, admitting she was thrilled to lead our private tour, as she needed to get away from her half-Italian, half-Australian teenage son who had just started his summer break.  “Our apartment is feeling smaller and smaller these days,” she chuckled.  She is the kind of person you hope to meet at a cocktail bar for some fun small-talk with someone other than your family members, who you’ve been talking to 24/7 since your vacation started.

We wove our way to the first bar, and Fiona casually introduced my family to the important landmarks along the way, like the Tempio di Adriano, which was in the neighborhood of the first bar we visited, sporting elegant cocktails and the coolest Jell-O Gin shots set in lemon skins I’ve ever had (ok, admittedly, the only Jell-O Gin shots in lemon skins I’ve ever had).

Lemon wedges with jello Gin shots.

Next stop was the Pantheon, where Fiona explained its intriguing history to my family, filling in the blanks of my less-than-adequate description from when we had been by the Pantheon earlier that day.  What can I say?  My forte is logistics and not history.  I can’t do it all, sigh.

Our guide, Fiona, explains the Pantheon.

With my family sufficiently briefed on the Pantheon, we headed to the next bar, and within a five-minute walk, we found ourselves in a sea of fun and chic bars and restaurants that were anything but tourist traps.  I’ve been in the area of the Pantheon umpteen times, and I never knew it took so little effort to get away from the touristy cafes.  Our destination was Bar del Fico, where Fiona helped me improve my Italian by explaining the origin of their name.  I’d always known that “fico” in Italian was a similar slang word to our version of “cool,” but I had never known that outside the slang, the real definition of the word “fico” was “fig.” 

We loved our cocktails at Bar del Fico.

The bar was named after a beautiful fig tree standing proudly out front, under which crowds of men were hunched over chess boards, playing to their heart’s content amidst the bustling little square full of action and life.  I loved this place, such a great find, feeling so far away from the typical tourist destination, yet actually, just a five-minute walk away.

Playing chess under the fico tree.

Next, Fiona diverted our tour to the French church, San Luigi dei Francesi, to see a Caravaggio painting.  This diversion was a personal passion she wanted to share with us, as she loves art and is fascinated with the life that the painter Caravaggio, a feisty character, led in Rome. 

I love photographing in Rome. There’s beauty around every corner.

As we sauntered to the next bar, she shared stories about Caravaggio’s antics in Rome in the 1600s and pointed out places where he had lived and frequented.  She also stopped to show us how to properly get water from the famous Roman drinking fountains.

Fiona showed us how to properly use a Roman fountain.

Now was the moment I had anticipated: crossing the Ponte Sisto bridge into Trastevere, and enjoying this lovely, spirited neighborhood on a Friday night.  My family would have never gone to this area of Rome if it weren’t for the tour, and were grateful to take in the sunset over the River Tiber from the bridge, and the fabulous vibe of couples and families hanging out, playing music, and taking in the beautiful scene. 

Sunset on the River Tiber.

The next bar was just a short walk from the bridge at the edge of Trastevere, famous for having one of the best cocktail-makers in the city, and a fabulous aperitivo.  My family hadn’t yet learned about the fantastic world of aperitivo, where a drink purchase buys you access to a free, endless buffet. 

The aperitivo buffet!

I, on the other hand, lived on aperitivo when I was a poor student in Bologna.  We fondly call the act of eating aperitivo for dinner “apericena,” meaning, “aperitivo” plus “cena” (dinner).  We apericena-ed happily this evening, enjoying the rambunctious crowd on the patio.

By the end of our cocktails, my family was admittedly exhausted.  It had already been a full evening, and were feeling the jet lag.  Nonetheless, we couldn’t finish the tour without stepping into the famously windy streets of Trastevere, and also not without a bit of dessert.  Fiona had just the place, and we soon found ourselves standing outside of a little bar, Vendita Libri, Cioccolate e Vino, that only offered chocolate shots with raunchy names.  We were thrilled. 

Selecting our chocolate shots.

We all selected our shot, blushed a little when we ordered it, and watched the bartender combine all of the delicious components into little chocolate cups topped with whipped cream. 

The catch was, we were firmly instructed by the bartender that we must insert the entire shot into our mouth, which we all laughed our way through, some of us with more successful outcomes than others.

We ended our evening with a walk to the taxi stand a few blocks away.  My sleepy family got in a taxi and were off.  Fiona and I exchanged a hug and a goodbye, and I walked back to my Airbnb in Trastevere.  To me, that’s the mark of a good tour guide…someone you’d like to stay in touch with.  I hope to see Fiona again on another tour or just around town.  And despite the jet-lag, my family considers this evening on The Roman Guy’s cocktail tour the highlight of their trip to Rome.

Stepping Into Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera’s Mexico City

_mg_9286_reduced

It is hard to imagine that two artists alone could make an indelible mark on a city that would sustain for decades, a century, or more.  Yet Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo’s legacy in Mexico City – the fifth largest city in the world – is still very real and tangible.  As a photographer, theatre artist, and arts advocate, I feel at home in cities that embrace art, and Mexico City is no exception.  I relished every opportunity on my recent trip to experience the Mexico that Rivera and Kahlo knew and loved, taking in their art and visiting their homes and haunts.
In fact, I dedicated an entire day-and-a-half of my Mexico City vacation to my immersion into the world of Diego and Frida.  Here’s where I went:

Museo Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo
Calle Diego Rivera 2, Álvaro Obregón, San Angel Inn, 01060
+52 55 8647 5470
The home and studio of Diego Rivera where Frida Kahlo also lived and worked for many years, famous for its incredible architecture by Juan O’Gorman.
Time needed: 1 to 2 hours

Call me Jane: Adventures in the Los Tuxtlas jungle of Veracruz, Mexico

I woke up in Veracruz City on the second to last day of 2016 having no idea I’d be going to bed that night in a jungle.  Our hostel owner at the Oyster Hostel in Veracruz moonlights as a tour guide and is passionate about the many offerings of the dynamic state of Veracruz, especially the region of Los Tuxtlas around Laguna Catemaco which was our destination that day, compliments of his comfy mini-SUV.

We spent much of the day in the car, winding through the rural countryside of Veracruz on our journey to Catemaco, making pit stops along the way at a famous Cuban-style cigar factory, and a humongous waterfall.  The people-watching was as good as it gets.

_mg_8159

There was “animal watching” too, unfortunately.  I witnessed a group of turkeys standing in the rain along the road, very malnourished and somehow given up on life as their owner tried to hawk them to passing cars.  That was depressing.

_mg_8161

But Catemaco wasn’t.  We had no idea what to expect, which is somehow the best of ways to approach a new place. After arriving, we spent the rest of the late afternoon exploring Laguna Catemaco on a boat owned by a friend of our hostel owner.

_mg_8325_reduced

From land, the scale of the lake was impossible to recognize, as the lakeshore was lined by trees.  But when we actually got on the lake, I was overtaken by the size.  We sped along on the boat so quickly that the bumps of waves we hit started to feel like concrete speed bumps that sent us flying, over and over again.

_mg_8330_reduced

We explored every corner of the lake, from a lakeshore stop for volcanic mud face masks offered by the wife of our boat guide outside the vacation home of the owner of the cigar factory,

_mg_8374_reduced

to the sunset stop to drink water from a hole along the lake where naturally carbonated water comes up from the earth,

_mg_8401_reduced

and finally a pause in our boat to roll along the small waves of the lake for a few minutes and watch the monkeys on a small island.

_mg_8449_reduced

My favorite moment was turning the boat to the west and darting off into the sunset, as the least bashful of the monkeys watched us disappear while peeling a banana another boat had thrown at him.

We went to bed that night in one of the two guest rooms off of a coffee shop.

img_4922

I showered with no hot water and went to sleep hoping the thousands of birds that populated the trees along the shore wouldn’t wake us up too early.  Luckily, I woke up surprisingly refreshed the next morning, the last day of 2016, and enjoyed talking to the other guests over breakfast.  They asked what our plan was for the day, and I told him we were exploring the Reserva Ecológica de Nanciyaga, which is supposedly the most visited fee-based attraction in the region of Los Tuxtlas.  In other words, there weren’t many other options.

The reserve’s name, Nanciyaga, comes from the Nahuatl language and means “at the end of the Nance trees.”  I did some research on the area, and the discontinuous rainforest belt of Middle America reaches its northernmost extent on the mainland in southeastern Mexico.  Apparently, the forest in this region is not a rainforest, though, and is instead considered to be a moist forest.

_mg_8366_reduced

Ha!  Whatever that means.

We easily found a taxi to drive us the beautiful four-mile stretch along the lake to the reserve, the same route we had taken by boat yesterday.

_mg_8660_reduced

I was apprehensive about what we would find at the nature reserve, bracing myself for potential encounters with caged, unhappy animals, which happens sometimes when groups market themselves as sanctuaries to increase tourism.

When we arrived we were the only ones in sight other than the nice woman at the wooden ticket booth.  I don’t remember how much we paid to get in, but it was around five dollars each, and maybe even less.  After paying, the woman waved us toward a young man carrying a tall stick, who turned out to be our volunteer guide.  Instead of letting us wander around on our own and get ourselves into trouble, this young gentleman took us up and down the winding dirt paths and through a history of the ancient Olmec culture, and a bit of a background on the wildlife that call the Los Tuxtlas Biosphere Reserve home.   

_mg_8564

The ecological park is a self-sustaining property made up of ten acres along lake Catemaco including a mineral spring (Nipapaqui natural hot tub), a tiny lagoon for swimming, small bungalows that  accommodate overnight guests, and a wonderful open-air restaurant serving three meals a day to guests, but closing at sunset for those not staying on the property.

Really, though, there was so much more to the property than expected, which we discovered through our sweet young guide.   We stopped along the dirt path as we encountered random replicas of Olmec sculptures he used as talking points.  Highlights of the property included the temazcal (sweat lodge), which is actually functioning,  and group treatments are scheduled throughout the month.

_mg_8565

As a theatre person, I loved their outdoor amphitheater.  And then, of course, I was shocked-but-not-shocked at the wall of printed photos of guests in mud baths, mixed with pictures of celebrities.  Apparently, parts of Medicine Man (1992) with Sean Connery and Lorraine Bracco, and Apocalypto (2006) with Mel Gibson were filmed here.  The owner, a woman, is happily pictured in a photo with Mel Gibson.

_mg_8588_reduced

After enjoying the photo wall, we entered the wooden structure and found ourselves in a small but clean and lovely open-air salon.

_mg_8637_reduced

My friend enjoyed a mud face treatment, while I purchased the dried mud and some patchouli soap to take home.  Folklore claims a princess used to cross over from a neighboring island to use the mud in this region to beautify herself.  I took that as a strong hint I should be doing the same.

img_4887

Once my friend’s face was thoroughly green from this miracle mud, we left the salon to discover rows upon rows of tied leaves laid out for us to select from.  I was bewildered, as everything was in Spanish, so it was becoming a bit hard to keep up with all the surprises.  I followed my friend’s lead, green face and all, as he picked up a leaf and dipped it into a bucket of water.  To my surprise, the leaves were watertight, and the water was carbonated.  I took a gulp from my leaf cup: the water had a familiar taste, and I wondered if they pulled it from the same hole we had drunk from the evening before.  This was the first time, and possibly the last, I had drunk from a leaf. So far, so good.  I was thoroughly charmed by our jungle adventure.

img_4886

But the surprises didn’t end there. The handy leaf cup maker, a nice young woman, asked if we wanted to have a “White Magic” treatment.  I wasn’t aware of this at the time but later discovered from the mother of great friends of mine near Mexicali, Mexico, that this region of Veracruz was famous, or perhaps infamous, for its traditions of magic.  My friend and I decided to participate together, and we spent a thoroughly unusual but surprisingly pleasant five minutes being swept with leaves as our white magic doctor chanted and prayed around us.  At the end of the ceremony, he presented us with a clay ceramic face on a ribbon to wear around our necks, that he had blessed for us to ward off the spirits.  I keep it in my purse.  I figure I need all the help I can get. ;b

Our adventure continued alongside an algae-filled lagoon inhabited by more than a few crocodiles and turtles, with a fence separating us humans from these prehistoric-looking characters.  They were as still as statues.

_mg_8606_reduced

 And the turtles perched along the long wooden logs looked like a cartoon.

_mg_8611_reduced

Along with these guys, the area is apparently known for rich birdlife, including toucans and parrots, which we saw from a distance.

_mg_8655_reduced

In 2003, a few Howler monkeys were reintroduced in the reserve which apparently did well.  We saw a large iguana and babies.  And we didn’t see any unhappy animals.  I was relieved.

_mg_8381_reduced

Our tour wound down, and our guide showed my friend where to wash off his mask.

img_4905

Bowls of fresh patchouli leaves adorned the sinks, and our guide smiled and encouraged me to use them as my soap.

_mg_8625_reduced

I loved them: the fiber seemed to scrub my hands clean and left a wonderful scent.  We tipped our guide nicely as he handed me back my soap and mud that he’d carried, and we bid each other goodbye, at which point we were let loose in this little paradise!  I was thrilled.  It was lunchtime, and lunch at the open-air restaurant seemed like a perfect idea.

_mg_8641_reduced

We talked to a chef who managed the dessert bar, and she showed us some of the traditional cakes that they offer, tempting us to leave some room for later.

_mg_8648_reduced

We enjoyed a thoroughly relaxing, delicious lunch on the lakeshore, a beautiful piñata blowing in the wind above us.

img_4913

After lunch, we made our way back up the winding dirt paths to the wooden ticket booths and asked the woman to call us a taxi. While we waited, we chatted with the volunteer guides waiting for the next visitors to arrive. They were local students and all very proud to be a part of the reserve.

The visit couldn’t have gone better. I’ve promised myself I will return, and next time I will stay at the reserve. Full of good energy, happy people, and happy animals, this is the type of place I want to go to remind myself how much there is to appreciate in life, despite our everyday stresses and challenges.

And until my return, I luckily have quite a store of mud mask to tide me over. I put it on and pretend to be the princess of Catemaco. 🙂

For more information on Nanciyaga, visit this helpful website apparently maintained by an American ex-patriot not affiliated with the reserve.

Bologna: the city of nighttime.

_mg_2193_reducedwatermarked
As the host of the oldest university in the western world, Bologna has been a second home for young people from across Europe for centuries. And with the saturation of young people comes the inevitable nightlife of those who don’t have morning meetings and people depending on them to make breakfast.
I’m one of those students that made my pilgrimage to Bologna, only to be charmed by the nighttime energy of this city. Only in Bologna does coming home at 3am on a Saturday night feel early.  After five years of this, I’ve finally learned to prioritize my favorite places, and cut my nights short so I actually come home before sunrise.  Sometimes.
The energy of the city is visceral, and therefore photographable.  Instead of always wasting my nights away in laughter and Italian wine, I’ve started shooting instead.  Or at least, taking a few minutes to shoot on my way home, ha!  My new lens is a f/1.8, and the results have been fantastic.  I hope you enjoy my meanderings through the streets of Bologna, seen below.  And stay tuned for a vlog coming soon, featuring interviews with Bologna’s best bartenders!
_mg_3417_reducedwatermarked
_mg_2137_reducedwatermarked
_mg_3335_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1727_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1681_reducedwatermarked
_mg_2184_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1674_reducedwatermarked
_mg_2176_reducedwatermarked
_mg_2155_reducedwatermarked
 
_mg_1910_reducedwatermarked
_mg_3326_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1834_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1818_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1567_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1650_reducedwatermarked
_mg_1600_reducedwatermarked
 
 

Vlog: Country Mountain Getaway in Callicoon, NY

As I continue on with my late-summer East Coast travels – which will soon turn into my early-fall Italy travels – I’m barreling on with my vlog production, hoping to bring at least one of these to you per week.  This particular vlog is near and dear to my heart: it documents a special weekend trip to a family mountain home in the Catskills that has been an annual occasion for more than ten years.  But decades before this group made the tradition, it was the summer home of my friend’s great-grandparents, who were the matriarch and patriarch of a great family and legends in their own right.


I felt fortunate to be included this year with this group of friends, many who have known each other since childhood.  Some of them see each other regularly throughout the year, and some become reacquainted just once a year here in Callicoon.  I came to get to know them through a close friend from graduate school and his husband at the annual get-together this past Labor Day, and I felt both totally included and like an observer all at once.  Which makes for better vlogging, in the end.  Hope you enjoy our trip through Labor Day in the Catskills.

Experiments in Vlogging: Northampton, MA

I feel like I have nine lives on WordPress: I disappear for a while, but I always manage to make it back.  While some of my favorite alone time is spent reading blogs on WordPress, I’ve jumped into the world of education travel coordination with CISabroad, and coordinating faculty-led university student tours of Italy takes every last bit of energy out of me and leaves no time for blogging.  That being said, I love my new job, and as I travel I’m developing more perspective and knowledge on what’s out there to share with you all.


I’m elated that I’ve finally gotten a little break from work, and last week I went to visit the home office of CISabroad, which is located in the beautiful college town of Northampton, MA.  I have a beautiful new iPhone now with lots of memory (since I dropped the last one on its face and it lives no more), and I’m taking advantage of the great new lens on this iPhone and plenty of storage to start vlogging, as I’ve been aspiring to do for years.  So here it is, friends, my first vlog in several years.  Hope it takes you into the world of beautiful Northampton.  And I hope you enjoy it!  Here’s to many more…
 

Traveling the Earth and Loving it.

I have a bit of a guilty conscience about the traveling I do.  I think about my carbon footprint growing each time I get on an airplane. Trips to protected national and state parks also weigh on my conscience, reminding me of how fragile these ecosystems are, as their protection comes for a reason.  In the same way, time spent on incredible beaches not yet visibly polluted by mankind feels like a luxury, yet at the same time, a responsibility.  On the other hand, I am grateful for improvements in transportation that not only help us but also help the environment, like the wonderful train system in Europe, where each train service has a way of reminding me how much more environmentally conscious train travel is in respect to other options.

Overwhelmingly, though, my travels give me a simple love for the world, which I am celebrating today on Earth Day along with many of my fellow bloggers.  The diversity and scope of this earth is hard to even compute in a logical way,  and I am grateful to have my camera lens to use as a way of sorting through and putting together all of the pieces of our wonderful world.

The first pieces of my discoveries are those moments in my travel adventures that have been so big that they’ve taken my breath away, such as the enormous mountain landscape in the Rocky Mountain National Park,

7432216624_412aca22df_b

and these giant trees that seem to almost dwarf the Washington Memorial,

IMG_4234
or me emerging from Piazza San Marco and taking in the Adriatic Sea in Venice,

sticky_Venice

the valley that I love that falls below Assisi, which must have been such an inspiration for St. Francis,

IMG_2871

the feeling of seemingly being on top of Rome,

IMG_2333

the drama of the Italian Dolomiti,

all-imported-1293_8599539867_o

the landscape of Utah,

img_2752_7512114958_o

or just a simple bend of the road on Highway 101 south of Santa Barbara that opens a whole other world.

IMG_6222
Along with the “wow” moments are the moments of serenity that have given me the time to reflect on just how amazing the world can be, like Ojai’s incredible “Pink Moment” that I’m lucky to witness every year at the Ojai Playwrights Conference,

sticky_Ojai

or the island of Ponza’s incredible sea,

7483510856_b501f260bf_o

and the beautiful countryside in the center of Salzburg,

IMG_6858_smaller

and the equally enjoyable countryside just outside of Ben Wheeler, Texas,

_MG_9763

as well as at the Chiemsee lake in Germany,

IMG_7127

and Lake Como, Italy,

_mg_2788_8848042004_o

and at home in El Centro, California.

IMG_5842

Perhaps my favorite moments on Earth are the ones that just grab me and make me happy to be alive, almost as if I’ve stepped into a bit of heaven, like here on the Lincoln Highway in Pennsylvania,

lincoln-highway-butterfly

and at these enchanting gardens outside of Castelfranco Veneto,

IMG_2509

and on my way down to the sea in Cinque Terre,

sounds-header
enjoying lunch with some of my favorite people in the hills of Bologna,

IMG_3981

at the Mirabell Gardens in Salzburg,

IMG_6344_smaller

taking in mountains and public art in Trento, Italy,

IMG_8004

and the cherry blossoms blooming at Lake Como, Italy.

_mg_2696_8847356777_o

In addition to all of the glee and appreciation that I get from discovering all there is to appreciate about the world, there are also a lot of times when I am saddened by what I’m seeing happening to the earth.  Luckily, I know I’m not alone in my frustration.  These moments really overtake me when I’m visiting the big cities on the sea like Naples, where so much of the beauty is obscured by smog and buildings,

IMG_1232
or when I’m reminded what’s happening under the sea,

all-imported-575_8723813227_o

or finding trash covered beaches in Puglia that makes me wonder what our American beaches would look like without the great volunteers and public money that keep them in better shape,

IMG_2350

or finding big pieces of waste where you least expect them.

IMG_8701
But my travels also show me what we are doing right.  I am very respectful of the diligence that many Italians have with recycling all of their trash meticulously.  Or the absolute attention that the Austrians give their environments, inside and out.  And the hard work of architects to incorporate our necessary buildings into our beautiful environments. When it comes to architecture, I can think of no better example than Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in Pennsylvania,

img_2145_7425474054_o

and in Siena, Italy, I experienced a similar harmony which was gorgeous, whether purposeful or not,

sticky_Siena

and not forgetting about the work of artists like this one on exhibit at Art Basel in Basel, Switzerland, who did such a great job of projecting our love and fascination with the creatures under the sea,

art-basel2

or these locals in Cesenatico, Italy, who created their own respect for the sea – the city’s economic livelihood – as a public art display for all to enjoy.

cesenatico11

I hope that what has come through the lens of my camera has brought you a little bit of the emotion that these discoveries have brought to me…as well as a little reminder of what Earth Day means and the challenge in and importance of preserving these incredible places.  Thanks for reading. 🙂