of light & flight

In the traditional Maori language, the word for treasure is “taonga” and for mountain, “maunga”. On the islands of New Zealand, the mountains are held in the most sacred regard, viewed as the country’s most significant “toanga”. Rising towards the realms of Ranginui, the Sky Father, the maunga loom magically over the Māori and all who encounter them. As soon as the Alp’s captivating peaks of snow and ice plunge into sight, this descriptive word is hardly debatable. Sure, we might be bias coming from one of the world’s flattest places in the world but if you’re not already a geology nerd in the presence of such natural royalty, these treasures will surely get you there.

Frozen with blue glaciers and washed with waterfalls, the Southern Alps sit on the famous Pacific Ring of Fire, the world’s most active volcanoes. As the result of millions of years of earthquakes, the mountains protrude up 3000 meters on the Alpine Vault. As the Australian plate slides horizontally, the Pacific plate is pushing up, continuously forming what we see as the Southern Alps, today. Because of this collision, the mountains also continue to raise 7 millimeters a year, making it the fastest rising mountain range in the world.

Maori legend has it that Aoraki (a legendary person in the Ngāi Tahu iwi whose name meant ‘cloud piercer’) and his three brothers were out on in their waka (Maori canoe) when it flipped on a reef. Climbing up on top of the waka, the men waited and waited to be rescued until eventually their hair turned white, their bodies froze, and they turned to stone. The waka or canoe is said to represent New Zealand’s South Island and the four brothers represent the Southern Alps, their hair white like the snow-capped peaks. It is also said that an early ancestor, Rākaihautū, walked across the range digging out the lakes in the mountains with his stick.

As we flew threw the alps, at the same level as the brother’s peaks, the clouds nestled into between them- we couldn’t help but reflect on how perfectly, amazing nature is. We wondered if humans were ever even meant to be here, to change it’s natural orders in the way we have, to bring forth such shifts in factors such as climate. And if this world was meant to maintain it’s own natural order, were our native ancestors right to worship and find faith and respect in Mother Earth and her elements over more human-like individuals, as our species has more currently sought out? I know, I know. We got a little deep. But how can you not, flying so close to such immense beauty and natural phenomenas? While reading in the airplane home, I coincidently found an old Maori proverb that seemed to speak perfectly to our feelings that day:

“Mehemea ka tuohu ahau me maunga teitei’.

If I should bow my head let it be to a high mountain.

My head is bowed to you today, taonga.

The Milford Sound is one of the most famed attractions in New Zealand; the one we were told we must do while there. Unfortunately, our rather spontaneous and last minute way of traveling makes it impossible to book such highly demanded sights in advance. In the case of Milford, we were told we had to book one year in advance to experience the majestic cruise. Unfortunately, one year ago we didn’t know we’d be in New Zealand and even days before arriving we weren’t sure which day or flight we’d be arriving on. So, feeling totally out of luck, we did our best not to sulk our way down the coastline in the van.

Determined and hopeful, we decided to give it one last shot just a few days before we were set to arrive in Queenstown. We called a few tourism companies we had seen advertised- everything was booked. The next day, we tried one more time, for anything- literally any package that would get us to the sound. Sure enough one booking had backed out. To our good fortune, the days prior had been such poor weather that many flights to Milford Sound had been cancelled. The people who cancelled must have pulled out thinking theirs would be, too.

So, let’s review- bad weather and fully booked for weeks, until the day we arrive in Queenstown. What kind of luck is that?! It doesn’t end there. We left our little campground on Lake Wakatipu in Queenstown around 6: 30 am. The sun was already piercing our skin to red and our layers of clothing were slowly peeling off. We arrived at a small airport with giddy smiles and eager to learn more about our plan for the day. We were going to fly 45 minutes in a tiny plane to Milford Sound, cruise through the Sound by boat for 2 hours, then hop back in the plane to head towards the Dart River to go Jet boating.

There was only one other family on the plane with us so Cas sat in the front with the pilot, a young guy our age, aspiring to be a commercial pilot for Air New Zealand. They became pals right away. The blue skies carried us through the Southern Alps with with grace and clarity, an ease and view he said he hadn’t been seen in weeks, explaining how rocky and difficult the flights can often be. The clouds were so sparse that we could see perfectly all around; waterfalls cascading from peaks, snow stacked in perfect patterns, and pools of the most pristine blue waters, completely untouched, nestled into the mountain’s rigid edges. He took us over the Milford Sound, touching down gently between the majestic fiord’s towering walls of lush forest.

The next two hours were a bit of a dream. Cozy in the front of the boat with coffee and camera in hand, I was glued to the landscape in front of me- the soft hues of blue outlining the cliffsides like watercolor, the sparkling glimmer on the water, the rainbows bouncing off of waterfalls, and the tiny specks of hazy brown as the sea lions sun bathed on the rocks. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more picturesque, I hear a loud breath. A Bottlenose Dolphin took a breath through it’s blow hole, spraying water up towards a child-like me, leaning as far over the boat, as possible. I was so distracted by the smoothness of it’s skin, how it seemed to be smiling- that it took minutes for me to realise that there were more; tons more in the distance approaching the boat. Maybe a pod or two, socialising and playing with the boats wakes, swirling around each other, their exhale seemingly making music. One of the deck hands said they hadn’t seen the dolphins for months. Again, so lucky.

The boat trip continued until the fiord met the ocean, the captain drenching those of us in the front under any waterfall we passed by cruising up too close. I didn’t mind in the slightest, accidentally capturing my first shower on film.

A bit about the Milford Sound: the rocks that make up Milford Sound and the surrounding Fiordland region were once part of a huge mountain range on the megacontinent of Gondwanaland, over 600 million years ago. Over the course of hundreds of millions of years, they were reshaped by erosion and the movement of tectonic plates deep under the earth. Within the last two million years, there were around a dozen major glacial phases in the South Island, including in Piopiotahi. Rivers of ice up to two kilometres wide descended from the Southern Alps and flowed slowly but surely down to the sea, carving their course out of the solid rock as they went. Later, as the earth warmed, the glaciers retreated and the ice rivers melted. In Milford Sound they created a fiord: a sheer, narrow valley opening out to the sea, with high cliffs on either side.

Despite it’s name, Milford Sound is actually a fiord, not a sound, a mistake made by the Europeans who named it. But before those pesky foreigners arrived, the Māori called Milford Sound, Piopiotahi, meaning “a single piopio”. When the legendary Polynesian hero, Maui, died trying to win immortality for his beloved people, a piopio (a long-extinct native bird) was said to have flown to Milford Sound in mourning.

Not that I’m bitter but there’s also a Maori legend that a so called, angry goddess, Hinenui-te-Po, released the sandflies, te namu (little devils), into Milford Sound to keep foreigners away from such a beautiful place.

Maybe that’s why I came home with 42 bites on my feet and ankles…

Thanks, Hinenui-te-Po, thanks.

Just one year ago Cas was busy healing his 26 broken bones and battered internal organs after the motorcycle accident. It’s hard to imagine those days, now, full of movie trilogies, pill containers, and plaid pajamas. Just sitting up was a struggle, let alone walking or going anywhere but the bed or couch. But these last few weeks in New Zealand he's conquered some of the most beautiful hikes we've ever done. From the Franz Josef and Mt. Cook Glaciers and glacier pools to Mt. Aspiring's Blue Pools; Hokitika Gorge to the Bay of Islands' Mangroves. And while it’s embarrassing to admit, there were even times I had to really work to keep up with him.

On the day that we hiked Aoraki/Mt. Cook this was apparent to me the most. He was determined to get there, keeping a steady-I would even argue- jogging pace, the entire 1.5 there (turns out we did it 45 minutes faster than the estimated time). While I was slightly disappointed I didn’t have the chance to stop and take as many pictures as I had expected, I knew this was something for him. This was his moment. Something that represented all he couldn’t do in the last year; how strong he was, again. He needed it. So, we powered through- sweaty and dusty, all the way until the Hooker glaciers’s icy waters gathered into a pool of icebergs and chilly runoff. Without hesitation, Cas was in the water. I’m not talking about a quintessential tourist moment for a picture- I mean, he swam into it, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Our hike to Aoraki/Mt. Hook will always hold a special place for the simple reason that it made me stop and reflect on Cas and the last year; on all of his hardships and successes, how far he’s come after such a life changing experience. Like before, he continues to live life to the fullest, out of pure enjoyment and reminds me to do the same, even when it’s as cold as glacier waters or a pace too fast. I am so happy that we are here; that he is still here.

There is a saying in the Maori culture, 'he kapua kei rungai i Aoraki, whakarewa whakarewa' (the cloud that floats aloft Aoraki, forever flies, stay aloft), referring to the stubborn cloud that most of the time surrounds Aoraki, making it’s entirety impossible for visitors to see. The Maori say that the mountain, Aoraki, decides when it wants to be seen, showing his spirit of power and influence.

Today, as Cas hiked through it’s valley and swam in it’s glacier waters, Aoraki chose to be fully visible- not a cloud in sight. I like to think I wasn’t the only one proud and gazing in celebration of him, today.

Thanks, Aoraki.

Mud covered our shoes until the rain washed it away. Rain dotted our sweaty skin until the sun finally pierced it dry with it’s intense heat. Our jackets were on and then they were off, again. The unpredictable weather of New Zealand’s south island was somehow never discouraging or made it’s vast beauty any less captivating. By the time we had climbed the steep hills of the Diamond Lake trail in Wanaka, we were expecting the mountains to be blocked by haze and clouds and the city to be a sheer shadow through the mist. While the way up seemed to be this way, we arrived at the top of the mountain just in time for the clouds to open for the main show. The colorful land of blue, green, and yellow below us was perfectly spotlighted by the sun peeking through the thick layer of cloud behind us. Still, sleeping lazily atop the mountains, the clouds added a certain appeal to the landscape. A sort of mysterious haze over the lightness of the valley below.

To celebrate such incredible views of beautiful Wanaka, we headed towards the waterfront to enjoy a local draft and relax after the hike.

If this isn’t what vacations are made of, I don’t know what is.

Rumor had it that the South Island of New Zealand was the most beautiful. Perhaps this is true for the simple fact that the North Island is more urban and holds twice the population, however we still didn’t experience any lack of majestic secrets in our short time there.

Waterfalls

While the free, government campgrounds we’d been using were far more scarce on the north island than the south, so were the showers for campers. This meant our time on the island was both, more grimy and criminal (sneaking showers in the public beach showers). You could even say it was romantic in a cave man and woman, kind of way. Mostly because we found the perfect alternatives to showers, hidden in the Bay of Island’s fairy tale forests.

Many of the waterfalls we visited seemed to be a bit off the radar, as we were the only one’s there. The sounds of the rainforest engulfed us as we swam or sat investigating it’s every detail, finding eels swimming below us and designs on leaves we’d never seen. Even the Rainbow Falls or Waianiwaniwa, one of the more popular in the Bay of Islands region, offered moments of seclusion and quiet where we could wash away the days hikes and feel fresh before climbing back into our little van to sleep.

Mangroves

On our way to visit the Haruru Falls, we stumbled across a Mangrove forest on the trail. Surrounded by the sea’s tide as it comes in, the aqua trees are the home to all different kinds of sea life such as a crabs and shrimp while also maintaining the feel of a vast forest, as they can go on for what seems like miles. Having never seen anything like them, we stopped to enjoy the serenity of both forest and water meeting. We returned a few hours later to find that the tide was out, bringing a whole new vibe to the forest; spiky sticks protruded from the sand and the enchantment we had witnessed before was put on hold until the next tide brought it back.

The Moko Kauae- Sacred Maori Chin Tattoos

Up north in the Bay of Islands we found ourselves camping in the smaller villages where many Maori people lived. After noticing many beautiful tattoos on the women’s chins, I later read that an old tattoo tradition had recently been brought back. The sacred chin tattoos, also called Moko Kauae, is considered a physical manifestation of their true identity. It is believed that every women where’s one on the inside, close to our heart, but only when they are ready will they bring it out to the surface. In history, this decision was the marking of passage from girlhood to adulthood.

The drive through Haast Pass and the Mount Aspiring National Park is nothing short of jurassic. Green mountains of rainforest towered outside of every window of the van with hundreds of waterfalls cascading down from unreachable heights. We drove for what seemed like hundreds of miles without a trace of human life. Snow capped mountains peeked up behind grassy hillsides and rivers flowed through rocky race tracks. Tall, purple flowers called Glory Bush added contrast to the green landscape in small groups and large fields, dotted along the side of every road and waterway.

As we enter Haast Pass, the jurassic nature of the journey got even more dinosaur-like with waterfalls and pools of turquoise waters becoming the norm. We spent the whole day on the scenic road trip- stopping to get out at nearly every waterfall, scenic point, or pool. We weren’t the only ones who did this. We made friends with others of all ages, on the same route and routine as we were. At each stop, we’d say hello again, share stories, and say, “see you at the next stop!”

At the end of our journey, it made me appreciate how much I enjoy the people we meet when we travel. It becomes this other dimension where your age, gender, and nationality don’t actually matter. There are no social standards or groups because none of us know anyone or anything in such a new place. We’re equals. Because of this, no matter what campground we stayed on or where we went, we met like-minded people to share drinks, laughs, or tips with. Whether they needed a jump start, we needed a cooking utensil, or we just picked up spontaneous conversation- we met people from France, Spain, US, Germany, The Netherlands, Japan, London, Columbia, South Africa, and more- who we enjoyed chatting with. It’s pretty incredible how, as humans, we rely on strangers in this way while traveling even if in our day-to-day lives back home, we prefer to engulf ourselves with familiar routines and faces. For this reason, I’ve come to find that traveling is so important for the simplicity of positive social interactions amongst so many different nationalities. It’s the best way to know and experience each other in the most authentic way- when you’re both away from home and out of your comfort zone. The best way to see we’re all the same.

I suppose outside of our comfort zones and the stability of what we know, we all revert to our inner jurassic-ness. Despite what movies tell us about jurassic being wild, what if it actually more represented our most basic/natural human characteristics to feel at ease through partnership and collaboration?

During Cas’ switch to KLM, some of the benefits we often take advantage of took a back seat for a temporary six months. One of these benefits was the ability to fly with discounted prices. So, we decided to take advantage of the beauty that lay shorter distances around us for the time being. For spring break, we opted for a spontaneous road trip to Germany’s Bavarian Alps via the infamous romantic road.

With a playlist of our roadtrip favorites on blast and some horrible sing along voices, we powered through a 9 hour drive on the first day, traveling from Amsterdam through Frankfurt and down to the very bottom of Germany. We ended the day just one km north of the Austrian border in the quaint, mountain village of Fussen. Tucked perfectly at the foot of the mountains, Fussen was every bit as silent as it was beautiful which is why we absolutely love traveling in Europe’s off season. Wandering down the cobblestone streets of pastel cottages, mountains towering over us, was the perfect intro to the romance the road ahead promised.

How these trips normally play out is we pick a location together. I, as the creative mind, do the research, planning, and photography for the trip and Cas as the very logical, navigator does the finance and on ground navigating, too. We pretty much always rent a car, as our end goal of every place we encounter is to get out of the city- the adventure, the culture, the people that exist in the hidden corners and crevices outside.

My secret for planning is that I don’t over plan and I don’t book things in advance (unless this is 100% necessary which is very rare). I also don’t use trip advisor. Instead, I use various travel blogs that I find similar to our travel style; ones that value random exploration and often have little hidden gems to share instead of the most top rated or touristy sites (though it’s not rare for some of these sites to make our list, too). It might sound stupid but I sometimes use Instagram to guide me in this way. If you can find just a few somewhat professional looking photos which look appealing to you, they’ll often lead to some sort of travel blog where you can weed through and find the most relative to your own travel style. I document all the possibilities in that location, highlight activities that are must dos for us, but always allow enough flexibility so we never feel locked into any one place or activity. Fussen is a perfect example of this. I had an entire list of things we could see and do- things it was famous for or what other travellers and bloggers had recommended but in the end we just wandered, ate too much, drank local brews, and took too many pictures as usual. We didn’t knock off even one thing on our list. Yet at the end of the trip we both agreed it was our favorite village of the trip.

We also always make sure to be on the same page about what we’re looking for from the trip, sometimes it might be history, other times culture, and more often than not we both are craving a little adventure. This trip we were in agreement that we were not interested in partaking in Europe’s usual museums and churches. This holiday was going to be simply indulgent.

We woke up on the second day to the sunlight burning through the all-too transparent curtains of our room. When I opened them, I was jolted with excitement by the cute, wooden balcony that sat facing the picturesque village and mountains. The dark wood and snow capped views reminded us of the winter sport experiences we both had in our very different pasts- Mount Hood and the Austrian Alps.

Fussen is only 4 km from the famous Neuschwanstein and Hohenschwangau castles. This was our next stop. Neuschwanstein was built by King Ludwig II of Bavaria, the “Mad King”. He built the fortress as a summer home, as the Hohenschwangau was the original family home. In the process bankrupted the entire Bavaria region. Just after his mysterious death, the region made the castle public, making it one of the most profitable tourism sights in the region. Oh, the irony. The Neuschwanstein castle is said to have been the main inspiration for Disney’s iconic castle and when you see it, it’s hard not to see the resemblance. It is stunning.

While we were a bit put off by the massive parking lot and ridiculous number of tourists at the foot of the castles, we quickly realized that we had a different agenda than most of the others. We were there to do some hiking around the castles, most of the others were there to tour them. We hiked on and off the trails to various different view points, hopping back in the car later in the day with sore legs and sun-kissed cheeks. The hike was as quiet and natural as any other hike, even despite the people that lined up at the castle entrances and courtyards, below. For that reason, I can recommend it for anyone wanting magical castle views whilst still avoiding the crowds.

The drive up the romantic road was most romantic in this region, just outside of Schwangau, with the castles perched mightily on the hillsides below the still snowy alps. Countryside of green expanded below and the vibrance of spring was beginning to show in the color of the backdrop, among the forests. As we drove, we stumbled across a small ski lift. Though there was no snow on the mountain, we decided, “why not?” We hoped on the lift and went up to the top of the mountain, indulging in the views and a coffee as we watched parasailers run right off the sides of the mountain in front of us. Handfuls of them floated above the Bavarian region at a time. The sight of colorful chutes so peacefully soaring above the greens and blues of the countryside was mezmorizing.

As we continued up the romantic road on the third day, we sadly had to leave the mountains behind. Had we had more time I would have liked to spend far more in the nature of that area. The good news was that the villages ahead were meant to be romantic in history and vibe so we decided to stop whenever and wherever we wanted along the way. Though all full of history and calming hues, every village had it’s own unique feel. In Landsberg am Lech we wandered along the waterside, stopped into little shops, looked at engagement rings, and enjoyed a lovely traditional Bavarian dinner of schnitzel and local brews.

We stayed the night in a studio in the main square of one of a smaller village, Harburg. Tiny in size, the town is best known for the castle that sits in constant guard on the hillside. As it was the low travel season, it felt as though we were the only people in the city. We walked along the narrow pathways, decorated with Easter eggs and radiant flower arrangements, to the local bakery for pastries and coffee in the morning. Afterwards, we were greeted with somewhat unprepared looks of surprise when we asked if we could take one of the local BnB’s canoe out on the canal. This might have been the most peaceful hour of the trip- floating on the still water, beautiful castle and village in view with only the sound of birds (and occasionally frogs) around us. It’s in these peaceful moments of travel that I always am grateful to gaze across, in this situation, a canoe, at my partner in this life. Man, are we lucky to have each other and these experiences.

Leaving Harburg behind wasn’t easy nor was it hard as we were sure we had experienced the entire village in our stay. Next on the romantic road was Dinklsbuhl and Rothenburg Ob Der Tauber. Both full of history- and I’m talking the entire villages were historic- we had some good laughs living the imaginary life of Game of Thrones. We walked around the city walls like men of the Nights Watch, admiring the old wood, stones, and towers that held the defense inside.

We spent the day wandering between the old buildings and colorful gardens, snacking on an inedible and traditional schneeball (round pastry ball covered in chocolate). One of the things I had noticed about the city which made it stand out to others was the luxurious, golden rods and signs that hung to identify every shop. It made the town’s cuteness all the more loveable.

On our last day, we continued north on the romantic road to the well-known student town of Wurzburg. Surrounded by wine country and best known for it’s stone bridge of wine-sipping friends and conversationalists, Wurzburg was well manicured with flowers and both medieval and modern architecture. By the time I got my hands on a glass of the local wine of the region, we knew this was exactly what we were going to use our time in Wurzburg for. Again, we would check nothing off our list. Instead, we sat for a few hours on that bridge, alongside a hundred others, enjoying the sun and view of the fortress across the river. One wine turned in to another and it was absolutely perfect.

It’s true that you cannot do the romantic road or any of the villages along it without a car and it does take a few days. However, if you find yourself travelling to the neighbouring city of Munich and don’t mind setting a few days aside- the Bavarian region is every bit the hype and romance it sells. Especially if you’re looking for a little less tourism and a whole lot of indulgence.

I love a place that mixes and mashes it’s many identities and histories into it’s own. Corsica, an island known as “The Beautiful One” in the Mediterranean Sea, is one such place. Having been an official part of France since 1768, it has a distinctive, old french vibe while still maintaining an obvious Italian culture, as well. In fact, in it’s most rural areas it speaks it’s own mix of Italian and French known as Corsu.

Along with it’s aesthetic beauty, Corsica is quite well known for it’s extensive history and historic reputation as being the Mountain in the Sea. The earliest human remains found on the island date back to at least the 3rd millennium BCE. The earliest recorded history of Corsica begins about 560 BCE, when the Greeks founded a town on the east coast. Eventually, the Romans would conquer the island, creating a province of the Roman Empire with both Corsica and it’s neighbouring island, Sardinia which is why the Roman language is so deeply ingrained in the foundation of the present-day Corsu language. But the Roman’s weren’t the only ones who would see this beautiful island as strategic positioning in the Mediterranean, it was a hot commodity with a series of invasions and occupants such as vandals, lombards, and Arabs before it became property of the French. Perhaps, one of the things it is most well known for after that is being the birth place of Napoloean.

Made up of dense forest, dramatic mountain silhouettes, and rural villages set high on it’s peaks, half of Corsica is a national park of hiking trails, including the GR20, the toughest and most beautiful long distance hiking trail in Europe. We stayed in the north part of the island, known as the Balagne, once known in Corsican as “The Garden of Corsica”. Just as it sounds, it is filled with endless hikes, overgrown forests and fields, and breathtaking views.

About 30 minutes from the highway, sitting on top of a gallant hillside is where we would call home for the next three days. It was the picturesque village of Belgodere. With views across the entire Regino Valley, it was the oldest building in the village. Large and completely made of stone, it had been in the owner’s family for 600 years. It was the perfect place to wake up with a cup of warm tea and gaze across the village square and into the valley below. It was also the most noticeable residents in the village, impossible to miss when entering the main square or from it’s most scenic viewpoint. In the village was one single bakery, a family owned restaurant, and a market which only had toilet paper at 7 pm on random nights of the week.

We seemed to be the only people in town which made it feel all the more surreal, as if it was a town just for us. For the next three days, we ventured around the Balagne hiking and catching the most beautiful fall views of the island from magical mountain villages. We made our way towards the most Northern coast to bask on the sunny beaches and found the cheese and bread of the island was far better than any restaurant, sitting on our own terrace for dinner and red wine, each night.

Perhaps what made the trip the most special was that we weren’t alone. Cas’ parents joined us. Those of you who know how we travel, know that it’s not the most glamorous form of travel. With the benefits of Cas being a pilot, we can fly with a discount with a small catch- we must fly stand-by which means we only go if there are seats available for us which also means we don’t plan our trips until the night before the plane leaves and they won’t let us on to the plane until just before the flight leaves. It also means that if we get to the airport and those seats have been filled, we aren’t going and we may need to pick a different destination on the spot. This is exactly how in the past we’ve packed for Thailand but ended up in Cuba or planned for Japan to later show up in Hawaii. You’re never properly packed and you have to enjoy the spontaneity of every excitement and disappointment. It’s never boring, that is for sure!

We were hopeful we wouldn’t have to put his parents through this but you can never be certain, so when asking them if they’d like to join us the next day, we were certain they would say no. It was such short notice. But they said yes! They packed up a small carry on, drove two hours to our house to spend the night, and were on the plane with us at 6 am the next morning! Talk about spontaneity! We were so impressed!

Needless to say, we all made it. We wined and dined with the fabulous in-laws on the top of mountain cliffs and with the perfection of warm, French croissants for four days. It was the perfect fall holiday for the 2018 year.

Our Recommendations

Rent a car at the airport and drive up the D81 on the west coast to see the Calanche cliffs near Piana and the beautiful sea views of Cap Corse, until reaching the Balagne region and Calvi. Plan to explore the Balagne region for at least a few days. Stay in a tiny, mountain village home within it and explore the hiking in between. There will be no hotels in this area and trust us when we say, the whole island is much better experienced in it’s oldness and authenticity, anyways. Take a day trip to one of the beaches in the North and another day trip driving through the Natural Reserve Forest to Corte, a university city tucked into the mountains. This is a great place to stay if you plan on doing lots of hiking. Visit a winery, do a boat trip in Porto, on one of the various beaches, see where Napolean was born in Ajaccio, drive up into the mountains, and don’t forget to visit the cliffside city of Bonifacio in the south.

If ever a place was meant for Mermaids, the Algarve Coast would be it. With sparkling clear waters, mystic, palace-like grottoes, and hidden beaches in caves, the magic seemed to bounce right off the waves with the sun. After leaving Faro, we rented a car and road tripped along the mystic cliff sides for three days, stopping to hike and explore various beaches and caves along the way. 

Our Recommendations

Stop in San Antonio for tapas and shops or Albufeira for white-washed houses, animated night life, and beautiful beaches. We stayed at Praia De Carvoeiro, a quaint beach town which was less lively but far more charming. However, if it's nature you're seeking, head to Lagos, which is in close proximity to a medieval castle and numerous grottoes, caves, and cliffs. It has some of the most scenic beaches in Europe, along with dolphin sightseeing, surfing, and more. From there, head to Benagil Beach where you can take a boat tour into the famous Benagil Cave and try to capture the sun pouring into it's tiny beach. Hike around the Praia De Marinha trails to see beautiful cliffsides and grottos from above. At various points you can hike down to the beaches here to swim, as well. Take a boat tour or rent paddle boards at the grottoes at Ponta De Piedada. Here you can see all the different rock formations, each named for what they appear to look like.  

Just as it sinks in that we're in the historic land of King Tut and ancient pyramids, we're back on the plane, gazing down on the expansive Nile, feeling as though there is so much more to see and learn about this captivating country. Because of this, we know we will be back to Egypt very soon. 

Our first trip to Egypt, however, did not involve as many ancient storytellings and artifacts as one would hope. Instead, it involved the insanely beautiful snorkeling and underwater sea life of the Red Sea. We spent days with our heads in a rainbow of fish schools and our evenings cozied up with a blanket on the beach, watching the vibrant sunsets, shooting stars, and meteor showers. I was even lucky enough to meet the smiling Camel, Nico, who as you could guess, I got along with very well.

Our Recommendations

Don't miss the snorkeling and diving in the Red Sea for sights of dolphins, dipthongs, sea turtles, an array of colourful fish, and so much more. Take a day trip to Luxor for some Egyptian history, meet a camel up close, take in the colourful Egyptian sunsets, and rent an ATV or tour through the desert. 

Cas and I were daydreaming of an effortless holiday, out of the house, and away from wintery Amsterdam. Let’s just say, five months of recovery after a motorcycle accident starts to give you cabin fever. With all 26 of his fractures nearly healed and his stamina coming back, it was finally possible. So, for seven days, we found ourselves basking in the Cape Verdean sunshine, just outside the colourful fisherman village, Santa Maria. Located on a small island off the coast of Africa's Senegal, it was the perfect "recoverymoon".

Cape Verde is named after Cap Vert, which means Green Cape in Senegal. Made up of a total of ten islands, the country is famous for it's warm tropical climate, volcanic islands, talented musicians, and delicious cuisine. It is also the 3rd largest nesting site in the world for the endangered Loggerhead turtles and a historic sight for Charles Darwin's flora and fauna studies in 1832.

Lucky for us, we managed to randomly pick one of 2017’s top 25 beaches in the world to relax in. It’s chill vibe and white sands drew us to the village each day and event tempted us into the waters for some very leisurely paddle boarding. The local's pride themselves in the carefree motto, "no stress", making it the South Atlantic's very own Caribbean, and making Cas’ recoverymoon exactly what he had in mind.

Our Recommendations

Surf, kite surf, paddle board, snorkel down to a sunken Jesus statue, go on a diving excursion, explore Santa Maria village and it's fishing pier, eat local seafood, watch for migrating baby turtles, sip cocktails at sunset, celebrate Carnival, visit the salt mines and float in it's warm waters, rent a four wheeler to explore the island (it's possible in one day), eat as Chez Pastis.  

...and watch out for sea urchins in shallow, rocky areas or you'll be pulling spikes out of your feet for weeks. We would know ;) 

It was 6 am. Our backpacks were full and we had a whole lists of sights to see in our pocket. The airport was quiet for a holiday so we had no problem finding a comfy spot at the gate, thrilled and confident we’d be in route to Thailand just a few minutes later. While waiting to board, we were told that there wasn't enough seats for us to join, so we wound up at the information desk, holding visas and tickets for a country on the opposite side of the world, instead.

Cuba.

Little did we know that the memories that lay ahead of us, would be just as unpredictable as the beginning of the trip, itself. Cuba is like a well-written novel, made up of endless suspenseful chapters, only written on decaying walls and wrinkled faces. Stories that remain ingrained in you, far after you are finished with it.

The melody of Guantanamera fills the streets, smoke evaporates from cigars and exhaust pipes of 1954 Chevys and rusty Cadillacs, all while a laughing group of young people stand in line to buy fresh credit for their illegally imported smartphones. We were in Havana. With no public internet available in the city, we resorted to hopping in the cab and relying on our driver to drop us off at his best recommendation. He dropped us just down the street from his house at his friends. He would be only the first of many Cubans to treat us with the genuine warmth of a dear friend for the next ten days, making it one of our favourite place we've travelled to, thus far. 

It is true that Cuba seems frozen in time. The only cars that Cuban citizens could legally own until 2011 were cars created and bought before 1959, the average person makes only 20 dollars (20 CUC), per month, and citizens weren't allowed to use cell phones until 2008. Only 5% of Cubans have internet access and having an internet connection in your home is nearly non-existent. While outsiders may interpret the life of a Havanan to be a struggle due to Cuba being one of the world’s last remaining socialist countries following the Marxist-Leninist ideology, I found the Cubans we met incredibly prideful and full of life and culture. Always smiling and inclusive. And they have good reason to be smiling, they celebrate many successes such as 90% of Cubans owning a home, all being required to vote, 99% of the population being literate (one of the highest rates in the world), and being a highly educated and well taken care of society due to free education and health care. Cuba actually has the highest doctor to population rate in the world and because of these celebrations, there is still a great deal of respect for Fidel Castro. An interesting perspective.

Traveling is so addicting that sometimes it can seem hard to imagine going back to a place for a second time. However, Havana Cuba will most definitely be a place I go back to in my life time. This I am sure.

Our Recommendations

Find a cozy cafe to have a cheeky drink with Havana Club rum, hop in an vintage car and take a ride down the Malecon or stroll down it at Sunset. Meander through Old Town Havana at night to hear the music and dancing. Watch the ceremonial dances and canon blasts every night at 9 pm at La Fortaleza de San Carlos de la Cabaña, have a drink at Ernest Hemmingsway's favorite place La Bodeguita Del Medio, and discover the technicolor murals and live music on Hamel Alley. Explore the old mansions in the Vedado neighborhood, visit the four plazas of revolucion, go to a jazz club, and learn to salsa. There is no better place for that, no doubt! Stay in Casa Particulares, the homes of Cubans, instead of a hotel or Air BnB, this trip. This way you will get the authentic experience of foods, family, and daily life. 

Marrakesch is one for the imagination. Bright colours, alluring noises, sparkling objects, exotic animals, delicious foods, and fairy tale stories to describe every bit of it's Berber culture. Whether it was the vibrant souks or the quiet courtyard of our riad, it swallowed us into complete sensory awareness until we had a difficult time refraining from touching, tasting, smelling, listening, watching. It was like being a toddler again.

Just as can be expected from a toddler, we learned more in those few days than we could have through any Google research or book. For that reason, I would strongly recommend leaving your Marrakesch agenda open for all of it's most authentic explorations and experiences.

The city’s charm lies in the maze-like passages of antique doors and rich aroma of spices. The pungent smell of turmeric and saffron, paprika and cumin drift from tall cones surrounded by rosebuds and benzion. The screaming colours lure you in and then keep you with the merchant's "ras al hanout", a special mixture of spices. Every merchant has his own secret recipe. Tapestries, rugs, and pottery decorate the rosy corridors, each line and colour representative of the tribe or family story of the artistan who made it. Throughout the day, the city falls silent to the sound of the muslim prayer ringing from mosques peppered throughout the medina; a calm, tranquil moment before the hustle and bustle begins, again. Monkeys and snakes dance in the Jemaa El Fna

While it's chaotic and busy walking through the Medina's walls, the riads and homes are serene sanctuaries of relaxing pools, delicate tiles, and outdoor gardens. Every morning we wake up to a breakfast spread among the whistling birds and a bubbling central fountain filled with roses. The traditional Moroccan riads or historic palaces are all built around this central, outdoor garden, with rooms surrounding it, going up to three or floor floors. We were lucky enough to stay in a room on the roof, our doors and windows opening each morning to a view of Marrakesch's singing rooftops and the sounds of the busy kitchen below. 

Our Recommendations

Stay in a traditional riad, eat tagine, drink mint tea on a roof terrace, wander the souks of the medina and Jemaa El Fna, explore the Koutoubia mosque with it's famous Arabic minaret, visit The Ben Youssef Medersa to learn more about Islamic writing and law, take in the smells of the tannery district, step into a sultan's palace at the Badii Palace, and relax at a traditional Arabic hammam.

Wandering through the cobblestone streets of Antalya's old town, families and shop owners weren't sat in their back courtyards or room to enjoy the afternoon sun. They sat right out in the front of the entrances, welcoming strangers to join them with humble smiles and the sweet aroma of Arabic tea. Tiny cups and colourful rugs accompanied them. It was almost too friendly to resist. The genuine hospitality of their invitation made me question that of our own culture. Why is it that we place our picnic tables in the back, surrounded by fences and high grown shrubbery? Why is that we want privacy over the good conversation of strangers? 

Throughout our entire stay in Antalya, this genuine Turkish hospitality was found around every corner, a kindness and warmth that stood out from our previous travels around Europe. It led us to trying new things, such as helping a shop owner squeeze his orange juice and Cas getting a hair cut and burning his ear hairs off at a local Barber. We were welcomed into a mosque for prayer, given prayer beads as a gift, and ended up going home with a small shoe meant to give us good luck. We danced along to a local festival and even were brave enough to try rafting down Koprulu Canyon, the closest river. 

We left Antalya just a bit kinder, a bit more full of love and adventure, and surely ready to invite the neighbours over. All of them.

Our Recommendations

Raft down or adventure through the Koprulu Canyon, hike up and explore the historic Pammukale and Termessos, take a boat tour from Antalya's old town harbour, head out to the countryside and the Karain Cave for a beautiful view. Listen for the muslim prayer ringing out across the countryside from it's entrance. 

As much as we love exploring new cities, Cas and I always find ourselves ready to escape them for the peace of rural life, eventually. While, I absolutely fell in love with Havana's decaying and absurdly vibrant personality (and know I will be back, someday), our fourth day welcomed the familiar urge for fresh air and vast landscapes. So, off we left for the fields of tobacco farms, palm trees, orchids, and limestone cliffs. The Valle De Vinales. 

We arrived by bus mid-afternoon and immediately got to walking and knocking on doors of Casa Particulares for a place to stay. Everything was booked. After about an hour and starting to lose hope, a woman ran to her phone to call a friend who she believed had had a cancellation. This might have been the best luck we had on the trip. This is how we met Medale. 

Medale was not only a wonderful hostess with a cozy home and warm spirit but she also brought the cuban culture right to us. She fed us the most amazing meals of lobster, beans, rice and sugar cane. She served us freshly squeezed guava juice in the mornings, gazing out at the panoramic view from her rooftop. She shared her daughters Quincenera photos with us and told us stories of her past through black and white photos she had saved. She arranged for us to experience a tobacco plantation, four wheel through the historic fields of the mural de prehistorica, and go horse back riding and swim in caves and national parks. 

At the tobacco plantation, we not only discovered the journey of the world's most famous cigars but also got to try our own Cubans. We learned how their famous coffee and rum was made and nibbled on sugar cane along the way. 

When it came time for us to leave, without the same eagerness the city had brought, Medale arranged a car and a place for us to stay with her friends on the west coast of Cuba. She said it was less touristy, a place Cubans love to go to the beach. A tiny, rural village. As ridiculous, as that might sound, we completely trusted her to send us to strangers in a foreign country. That was Medale. It was also an experience which made us appreciate the power of spontaneous travel. 

Vinales' rich fertile soil, good climate, and dozens of natural caves have made the valley an ideal place for inhabitation since the very first settlements of Cuba. Like the city, visiting Vinales, is like stepping into a time machine. Life just isn't that much different than it was 100 years ago. Traditional methods of agriculture have survived unchanged and a culture of crafts, music, and architecture still exists in the small town. It is also where the world famous Cuban cigars come almost exclusively from. 

Our Recommendations

Take a trip to one of the many tobacco plantations, learn how to make traditional coffee and rum, sip guava juice in the morning, horse back ride through the national park, and explore the many caves engraved in the mogotes or limestone cliffs. Swim in the natural lakes, hike up to a phenomenal view, and four wheel through the rural fields. 

Out in the middle of the Arabian desert, surrounded by a vast, dry  wilderness, lies one of most lavish and futuristic cities in the world. Dubai has taken the world by storm as one of the fastest growing cities in the world and by morphing into what is the epitome of opulence, today. It brings visitors from across the globe to see the tallest, biggest, grandest, daring, and most expensive sights. Even it's prince is known for his outrageous stunts, lifestyle, and apparent good looks. 

We had four days to explore the city and while the luxury did sparkle in golden chandeliers and dazzle with expensive cars, there was also something slightly odd about it. After partaking in all of the bucket list activities you can typically expect, we grabbed a taxi just ten minutes away to the old town. Though it was only moments away from the westernised glass jungle, this side of the city was entirely different. Alongside the beauty of traditional Arabic and Persian architecture and souks was a clash of two very different worlds which made it both intriguing and confusing, all at the same time. Set along the Dubai Creek, Dubai's old town is a representation of an old fisherman's village, traditional Arabic architecture, and souks of gold and spice. You won't want to miss the Bur Dubai, Diera, or Bastakia Quarter

Our Recommendations

Watch for fancy cars, exotic cats as pets, and elaborate air shows throughout the week. Take a trip to the Dubai mall to see the fountains, restaurants, aquarium, and the tallest building in the world: The Burj Khalifa. Climb it. Take a tour into the desert to go sand boarding or go camel trekking. Rent a bike to cycle around all the new and impressive developments. Hop on the metro to check out the famous Atlantis hotel and waterpark and the second mall in the city which is said to have a ski hill inside. Then leave the opulence for the old town. Take a traditional boat across the Dubai Creek to discover the Gold and Old Souks of the Bur Dubai. Eat authentic Shwarma with hummus, try a camel burger, and have a hot pot of Arabic tea. Walk around the Bastakia Quarter to explore some history and try on beautiful head scarves from a local shop. Most importantly, be respectful of the culture. While many westerners do not follow along with expectations, it is respectful to keep yourself covered, to not drink alcohol (they won't serve it at restaurants), or be too affectionate in public. You will not get arrested for this, contrary to what some blogs might tell you, however it is simply polite when you are in another culture. 

It is just as it sounds. To this day, we have no idea where exactly we were other then it was near a small rural village about an hour cycle away from Cuba's west coast and Cayo Jutias. It was where our host family found the only bikes in the village for us to borrow so we could sip rum out of coconuts and listen to live music under the palm trees that lined the white beach. It was where we got a flat tire and had to hitch hike back. Where we helped them killed and eat a pig, feasting and dancing until 3 am with their family of twelve. Where we were force fed meals at every house that we passed on a simple evening walk, simply out of Cuban hospitality. It was where the neighbour with the only (hardly working) car transported us back to civilisation, stopping every often to restart and pump the oil. 

Somewhere on the West Coast of Cuba we met the most incredible families and people and though we did not share a language, we managed to giggle, dance, eat, and smile three days away. Perhaps, after all, that is what life is all about. 

Recommendations

Get lost in Cuba. Live it's culture. 

Aruba's license plates all read, "One Happy Island" and that is exactly what this little paradise is. If you're looking for an excuse to lay on the beach, swim, drink tropical cocktails, curb your craving for adventure with some water sports, and just be obnoxiously jolly, this little Dutch island off the coat of Venezuela is your place.

Aruba is your typical tourist destination with both high and low rise resorts on the beach and a downtown of Euro-influenced architecture with Dutch gables in pretty pastel colours. Regardless of what you’re looking for in a holiday, chances are you'll be humming along to the Beach Boys and sipping Pina Coladas in no time, here in Aruba.

Our Recommendations

Head to the Arikok national park to hike, explore geological rock formations, and historic tribal drawings. Discover the Aruban Divi-Divi tree and make a reservation for a sunset dinner on Eagle Beach at Passions (sounds corny but worth it for the romantic, feet-in-the sand, sunset dinner). Play all sorts of different water sports on Palm Beach. Swim out to the airport center line to float under the incoming aircrafts, snorkel alongside sea turtles, go on a kayak adventure or ATV tour, take some lessons at a surf or paddle school, try sailing, visit a donkey sanctuary, and adventure on a submarine. Take a dive into natural pools, go sky diving, and spend a day exploring Oranjestad, the capital city of pastels.

Very little I've seen has been as impressive as the artisan work that decorates the luxury hotels of Marrakesch, Morocco. While these are not our normal stop while travelling, I was told the delicacy and detail were not to be missed. So, we slipped into our finest sandals and raggedy clothes, merely attempting to be of appropriate attire for a brief entrance, and showed up at the front gate of La Mamounia with hopeful smiles.

We were greeted with the smell of lavender and orange trees, along with a unique perfume made specially for the hotel. For a few hours we were lucky enough to get lost among millions of tiny tiles which together created masterpieces, seeked out as accommodation by people all around the world. To the 1,000 artisans who created it, you are truly artists.

Sleepy Faro: a city ditched by visitors right off the airplane for Portugal's beautiful Algarve Coast. Upon first sight, you can't exactly blame them. It's a bit littered with decay and ageing architecture and doesn't appear particularly well maintained. Even our room was strangely melancholy with one single frame hanging crooked over the squeaky bed and the toilet making strange gurgling noises through the night. However, once we found ourselves lost in the historic alleyways of Faro's old town, cozy in it's Tapa cafes, or peeking behind closed doors, we started to see Faro's unique charm and hidden gems.

Don't worry. We weren't just opening up people's closed doors. We did however make friends with a Dutch tour group who allowed us to sneak into a locked storage room owned by a local church. Inside were loads of mysterious, unknown artifacts and beautiful art pieces from the past which had been saved from a church fire. This was our first insight into Faro's secrets. 

Soon after we stumbled across unique doors and homes made entirely of the famous Portuguese Azulejos tile work; courtyards of orange trees and whitewashed churches. Maybe Roald Dahl was right, magic is found in the most unlikely of places. 

Our Recommendations

Take a wander through the Arco Da Vila, walking under the Cidade Velha. Take a boat ride out to the lagoon's outer islands. Visit the Praia Da Faro, the city beach. Eat tapas, oyesters, and try the Algarve regions local wine.

I arrived in Pireaus, Greece with two bags full of hundreds of euros worth of kids activities and a small backpack. I was full of nervous energy and utterly clueless of what to expect of the next few weeks, as I boarded the ferry to the island of Lesvos. All I knew was that I had to be there.

I had plenty of time to drown in my ponders and nerves, laying restless and unable to sleep on the ferry floor for ten hours through the night. How could I make the most meaningful impact for the people who needed it most? How could I pass on the experience to others in the most authentic, genuine, and potent way?

The next two weeks were a blur of emotions that I can feel perfectly but find impossible to put into words. Pulling away on the ferry from Lesvos back to Athens was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. I was completely torn between heartbreak saying goodbye, rage towards the world, and overflowing with so much love towards the incredible people I had met, as if returning home three completely different people. And none of those emotions even came close to fair or understanding the heartbreak and rage I wanted to take away from all those around me.

I had not expected to find such a welcoming community at Kara Tepe Refugee Camp, underneath it’s hovering darkness. I had not expected to giggle over shared dinners and dance Saturday nights away, arm in arm to traditional Syrian, Afghan, and Iranian dances. I had not expected such rawness, emotion and affection. How deeply their stories would touch me, their positivity would inspire me, and their pain would embed itself deep inside my heart. I had not expected to meet families and friends who would stay with me for years to come or a little girl who would stay by my side, every single day, until finally shutting the car door behind me on that last day, waving until I couldn’t see her, anymore. Four year old Zahra from Aleppo will stay with me my whole life. This I am sure.

This community I felt was exactly why the many beautiful people working there referred to it as a village, not a camp.

I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to leave one of the most disturbingly unhygienic places in the world. One littered with heartbreak and trauma from people just like you and me, fleeing their home and life from war. One they would do anything to be away from. One overflowing and unable to care properly for the thousands of victims of the biggest modern day failures of humanity. Yet, somehow, this place still smiled. 

The only explanation for that is the people. Ramy, the cartoonist. The archaeologist and aspiring gardener with four children. The college professor in constant search of a way to stay educated and educating. Playful Bonita and Benjamin and their sweet parents, trying to bring adventure and excitement to their lives, however they could. The tattoo artist, the hairdresser, and of course, my self portrait artist and friend, Hedgie. The Greek locals who brought people of all walks of life together with delicious cuisine. The volunteers who sat on the beaches every night, all night, pulling boats ashore. The girls who sat giggling at the boys who walked by. The incredible, smart, inspiring people who waited inside, waking up each morning just to make it one more day. Just one more day until a door opens for a better life for their family. To see that door open, even amongst continued tragedy, is something I couldn’t have predicted feeling. To feel the relief of a family hearing their daughter and the cry of her new baby or to see a boat arrive safely on land after a brutal night on the water. It’s horrible, sickening, and angering but it’s also unforgettably heart warming to know how many people from around the world are right there to open that door of opportunity just a bit wider, however they can. 

It made me cry, laugh, dance, and feel the worst of pain while simultaneously paralleling all of that with love. I could never…none of us could… possibly understand the horror of what has been experienced by all those living in the village. Nothing we ever do will change that or make it fair. However, this experience and the people I met will forever stay with me, pushing me to live my life just slightly better, more open minded, and in service to others in a way I was not able to see before. In this way, there is nothing I can recommend more than to challenge EVERYONE to find something they are passionate about and to do something about it. To see and understand it and to act. To act in love. 

If my experience can share anything, I hope it is how amazing these different cultures, families, and individuals are. The photos tell the story of the consequences of war and unimaginable loss but they do not tell the story of any of these wonderful people's future, if we give them the opportunity for one. They also tell the story of the hundreds of beautifully accepting people who have dedicated their time and money to rescue others from the dangerous seas or the animalistic prisons they are currently living in. The EU-Turkey deal and closed borders will not stop war or the effects of it and it will not rebuild entire societies for them to return home to but the collision of community, action, education, and love might.

Though we only spent one day within this adorable medieval town of citrus groves and vineyards, the story of it's almond trees was one we will remember. Here it is for you to share.

Once upon the time, when the Algarve was ruled by the Moors and still known as Al Garb, a young Prince by the name of Ibn-Almundim who ruled from the capital of Silves, fell for the irresistible charms of a Nordic Princess called Gilda. He stole her heart and took her to the warm lands of the South.

Although she was enchanted by the daily kiss of the sun on her fair skin, when winter in the Algarve approached, her beautiful smile faded away and her golden hair lost it's glow. The Prince grew so desperate seeing his delicate princess pine away, that when he heard she was longing for the white snow-covered landscape of her homeland, he immediately ordered thousands of almond trees to be planted from the castle-door into the fields for as far as the eye could see. When the almond trees Algarve would be blossoming, she would witness the white flowers covering the hills in a magic illusion of snow in the Algarve. The cure was instant, and they lived happily ever after. 

So tells the legend of the almond tree blossom, a symbol of the Algarve. Ever since, the Algarvian countryside is lit up with the most precious white and soft-pink in February, caressing the eye with its stunning beauty, announcing spring and promising a feast of almonds that will later be displayed at local markets and processed into the most delicious traditional sweets and liqueurs of the Algarve.

Our Recommendations

Visit the moorish castle at the top of the hill (it hasn't been altered since the 12th century), potter about the old town which sits on a hillside around the cathedral, buy citrus fruits from the markets grown right there in the city, make a trip to the medieval fair if you're visiting in August, go on a horseback ride around the outskirts of the city, escape wine tasting in one of the eight wineries in the area, and try Caldeirada, a local dish. 

Athens, Greece will always hold a special place in my heart. It was one of the first destinations we travelled together after Cas became a pilot, sitting in the cockpit, watching the sunset across the curved globe, below.  Two years later, it was where I bought as many toys as I could carry and waited for an overnight ferry to an island 10 hours a way where a refugee camp would change my life. It was where Cas surprised me when I returned, heartbroken and full of so much love, as the pilot to fly me home. His embrace meant more in that moment than all the ones before it. 

Athens' colours, chaos, and history make it unlike any other place I have been. On every visit, I find myself endulging in the food, street art, and quaint streets of the Plaka, just below the Acropolis or shopping in the Kolonaki district and street stalls of the Monostraki. 

Our Recommendations 

The Acropolis, Parthenon, Ancient Agora, Herod Atticus Agora, and Temple of Olympic Zues can't be missed, of course, but there is so much more to see in Athens. Watch the changing of the guards at Syntagma square, wander through the colourful Monostraki flea market and stalls, dine and snap photos of the Plaka neighborhood, located in the shadows of the Acropolis. Eat traditional Gyros, Baklava, Souvlaki, Tzatziki.

This once overly populated vacation spot on the Greek islands is now struggling to make ends meet. Tourists stopped coming. While I could write an entire post about what that, very disappointingly says, about society today, I will simply just recommend this tiny little island for your next vacation because even with human beings from war torn countries attempting to reach a new life on it, there is still pristine beaches, delicious foods, the cutest villages, and of course the amazing Greek locals. It feels wrong even having to convince you of that. Not only will you still have an amazing holiday but you will also be a piece of the puzzle, supporting the locals, many of who have also opened up their homes and restaurants to help the residents living at the multiple refugee campls, as well. Be a part of people helping people. 

Deep in the Taurus Mountains, at an altitude of 1,000 meters, lie the ancient ruins of a historic civilisation called Termessos. Known as the Eagle's Nest for it's location, Termessos first appeared in literature on the pages of the Iliad. Homer mentions that Bellerophon, the Greek hero who rode Pegasus, was commissioned by the king of Lycia to conquer Termessos. It is said that he managed to force the residents of the city to surrender by flying over the mountains on Pegasus and throwing stones at the rebels. Apart from this story, little is known about the ancient history of Termessos. The next historical mention of the civilisation dates back to 334 BC when Alexander the Great arrived to capture it. His attempts failed. 

We rented a car and hiked up to Termessos on a cloudy, slightly misty, day which ended up being all the more special, as we were the only people crawling through the ruins of the ancient city. We sat in the amphitheater, pocketed between peaks of mountains and closed in by the clouds, eager to learn more about the history of it's profound existence. 

In their time, the historical ruins of Myra were part of the most important city of the ancient Lycian league. Known as the first democratic union in history, the Lycian league can even take credit for influencing the United States Constitution. The league left their footprint in history through ancient ruined cities all over Turkey, Myra being one of them. 

Lycian tombs were always placed at the top of hills or on the cliffs as there was a belief that the dead would be transported to another world by a wing liked creature. Walking up to Myra, you can see these tombs carved into the hillside right away, lifted high above the rest of the small town. Of all those who have buried in such tombs, one in particular is a reason to visit the sight: Saint Nicholas aka Santa Clause. 

As children we know Saint Nicholas for his annual visit to and from the North Pole, however, historically Santa Clause was a very busy traveller. He journeyed to Egypt and Israel to become a saint but his legend also began right here in Turkey, in Myra. He lived most of his adult life in Myra, becoming the bishop of the city and a protector of prisoners. He became well known for his involvement with children and gift giving, believed to be where the story of Christmas might have come from. After his death, his bones were originally buried in Myra, later stolen and yet to all be found.

Pammukale's white travertine terraces and warm, limpid pools hang like a petrified cascade of a waterfall from the rim of a steep valleyside. The geological phenomenon named "Cotton Castle" in Turkish, is also the site of the Greek-Roman city of Hierapolis ruins. Nowhere else in the world can visitors enjoy exploring such travertine formations of  deposited limestone, abundant hot springs, and the colonnaded temples, bath houses, necropolis, and theatre of an ancient, idyllic, Greek spa city. We bathed just as the Romans did, that day, in a picturesque pool filled with warm mineral rich waters, covering our faces in it's purifying mud. Truly, one of the most impressive sights we've seen on our travels.

For our early spring holiday, my friend Alannah and I hopped on a plane headed for the winter weather of beautiful Norway. Though we weren't able to make it up north to see the land of Fjords and neon lights glowing above us, we were able to witness some good ol' Nordic culture, visiting the Sognsvann lake with all the rest of the city hoping to cross country ski. We ate authentic reindeer burgers in a local Norwegian restaurant and made a trip up to the olympic ski jump, Holmenkolbakken. Lucky for us, our friend Lauren was nice enough to house us and show us the ropes of our first Scandinavian country. So fun to see friends from home as expats, settling into and new cultures around the world, as well. Thanks for everything, Lauren and Kenneth! 

Here I sit in Malaga eating Spanish tapas, sipping sangria, and turning 30 years old. All around me hands are flying in dramatic expression, catchy music is hovering in the background of carefree conversation, and people are cheering to midday drinks. Cas is sitting across the table from me making some ridiculous joke, the sun reflecting off his sunglasses almost as bright as his smile. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

At 30 years old, life has brought me so many amazing, life changing adventures, ones I never thought I'd be lucky enough to experience.  A supportive family, impactful children to spend each day with in a career I am passionate about,  beautiful travels to expand my perspective, a love deeper than I could have imagined, and a sense of identity as a women but also as an American and expat, stronger that I could have expected. With all the amazing people, cultures, and places the last 30 years brought to my life, I can hardly wait to see what the next 30 have in store for me (and us). All I know is I am pumped to spend it alongside Cas and even more, new people, cultures, and places.

Cheers to 30! 

When you live abroad, it isn’t very often that your closest friends make it to even a neighboring country. So, when they do, you go, too! The Stenson sisters have been my most frequent visitors in Amsterdam and they just so happened to be in Stockholm on their final weekend of a sister trip through Europe. As can be expected, lovely Julia was there at the airport to pick me up and not long after, all of us were kicking off our weekend dancing along to a local DJ From San Francisco, Griffyn in true Julia and Steph form. With the sun shining and Aperol Spritz’ seemingly sparkling on the trays, we spent a majority of the remaining time wandering the old town and raising our glasses over unison giggles. Julia and I snuck away to visit the Nobel Peace museum and we all took a boat to a nearby island of the archipelago where we hiked and enjoyed, of course, some more delicious beverages. The best way to describe Stockholm is utterly and perfectly, liveable. It’s clean, it’s pretty, it’s easy, and everyone who lives there, reflects just that. Thanks for letting me tag along on your last sisters adventure, guys! I just love ya!

Fourteen ladies from around the world, all on just one mission… to celebrate this soon-to-be wife in Barcelona! Thanks to our dear friend Cassie, we were able to stay in cutest 60’s, beach-chic hotel on Las Ramblas and hunt down some 60’s shades and flower power headbands to kick off the weekend in style. From Spanish tapas and sangria on terraces to champagne and waves on the warm beach, it was the perfect girls weekend, in honor of our favorite kiwi. You've done it again, Spain.

Can’t wait to see you tie the knot this winter in New Zealand, Josh and Alannah!

You know it's a good trip when you're having so much fun, you forget to take pictures.

I was lucky enough to spend the weekend with my little my brother in Denmark where he is currently studying abroad at the Copenhagen Business School. It's always an eye opening experience to realise your baby sibling, isn't quite that much younger than you anymore. He's actually a grown man, facial hair, big decisions, and all! It was so fun to see him building friendships with people from all around the world, kicking butt at his studies, and getting to learn a new culture along the way. Thanks for sharing your amazing new city with me, Awin! Couldn't be more proud of you. 

My Recommendations

Catch a glimpse of the very small Little Mermaid, eat and stroll through the Nyhavn, shop in Stroget, head to Paper Island for fun drinks and food carts on the water.

Ibiza is the party island of choice for famous DJ's and party animals all around the world. It boasts the best clubs and most beautiful beaches, a scenery so pristine it's hard to imagine thousands of drunk tourists tainting it's chill vibe. Luckily for us, it was no such thing while we were there. It was off season.

The million dollar yachts rested under massive covers and bathing suits were still tucked away in drawers. The streets were as ghostly as a haunted town and clouds covered the stubborn sun as it tried to do it's part in warming us from the sea's breeze. We had no complaints.

We threw on light jackets and jumped on a little scooter, hopping from beach to beach, all around the island. Each stop was another coast line that we had to ourself, crystal blue waters and amazing sunsets before us. We still managed to get in some snorkeling and swimming on a sunny day and explored the silent old town's castle and quaint streets. 

Our Recommendations

Learn the tales of mermaids and sirens at Ibiza's Vedra, eat and wander the Dalt Villa streets and castle, take a day trip to Formentera, scuba dive, rent a scooter and beach hop. 

Rome- a clash of historic neutrals and modern colours, world renowned cuisine and delicious street food. First stop: Piazza Di Spagna and the Spanish Steps, leading up to the Trinita Dei Monti Church. Known as the widest staircase in Europe, the Spanish steps are made up of 136 steps and boost a beautiful view of the city from the top. We stopped and got some gelato at the top, peering out over the rooftop terraces and garden of breathtaking Rome.

Not far down the road and made completely of concrete and stone, the historic Colloseum’s importance seems to dangle from the classic archways and decaying architecture that supports it. The most incredible thing about this iconic symbol is it was built in 70 AD. Obviously, my mind went directly to Russell Crowe in Gladiator and initially, it didn't seem real to be inside. At one point 50,000-80,000 spectators sat watching the gladiators battle to the death or even against beastly animals: an incredibly inhumane time. The bottom of the colosseum, which is now mostly exposed, is made up of ancient tunnels, which housed the animals and fighters before entering the arena. It is difficult to walk through any part of the amphitheatre without picturing bits of history happening within it. On the second floor, near the front, you have access to a beautiful view of Palatine Hill. Between the Roman ruins, vivid colors, and historic surroundings, it almost feels as if you are living in the time of the gladiators.

Our next stop led us to the Trevi fountain where we definitely threw a coin in the fountain. Rumor has it that if you throw a coin in the fountain you will return to Rome and deeply in love, at that!

Although I had been to Rome once before, I had never been to this exact area, slightly behind Palatine Hill. It was incredibly hot in Rome on this day and although we had stayed hydrated with a constant flow of water, we had walked the entire city. We were ready for a little break. We got cozy in this large arena of grass and rock. Not long after, we noticed the clouds rolling in. We could see them in the distance bringing heavy showers and wind, despite the heat. Had you been there with us afterwards, you would have seen us running around town in silly, red ponchos that stuck awkwardly to our body from the sweat. We definitely didn't let that rain slow us down, visiting Piazza Navano and walking the city until our feet hurt. 

In a mere thirty minutes, Rome transformed from a paradise of 100 degrees  and sunny to a muggy monsoon of 100 degrees and rainy. Within minutes the ponchos were worthless and we were soaked. Although it may not have been the ideal situation, it was an incredibly memorable and fun experience. We ran from branch to branch until finding a more permanent shelter under a large tree. The tree was in a small garden, overlooking the city and even the Colloseum. Cas knelt down and I sat on his lap, avoiding the rain shifting from the wind. We turned on some of our favourite songs on my iphone until the storm had passed. The rain caused many muddy rivers through the gardens, my feet were a muddy mess! Shortly after, the rain stopped and we continued on to the Roman Forum. 

Vatican City, was drenched in a rain the day we visited, as well. Buckets of rain slammed into the square, forcing everyone to hide around the edges of the city covered by the pearly archways. Some people skated across the water with their shoes, others screamed with every loud roar of thunder. Throughout the entire storm, it remained 90 degrees.

After an entire day of exploring Rome from top to bottom, we couldn't wait to have a quiet night back in our hotel, watching terrible, voiced-over American movies (brad pitt in Italian or German does not quite sound as dapper) and laughing over some lash. Time in the hotel was just as fun as seeing all of these beautiful places! We stayed at the cutest place called, "Club House." It was new, well serviced, and cheap as we actually found it on Groupon for an amazing deal: 5 days, 4 nights. Later, we weren't ready to retreat without watching another beautiful, Italian sunset so we hiked up to Pincio Park, which looks over the Piazza Del Popolo, took a seat on the overlook, and reflected on all of the days events. We are two very lucky people to get to experience all this beauty together. Can't wait for all the others nooks and crannies of the world I will see with this guy.

Spain has turned into our most frequented escape from the grey and cold of Amsterdam's fresh seasons. Mostly, because of the obvious, sun and fun, but also because Transavia, and Cas fly, there often. This trip, I decided to tag along on Cas' flight and stay with the crew for a few days in Palma De Mallorca. I arrived a bit earlier than Cas, as he had another flight to do before he could rest, so I wandered the pink streets snapping photos and sneaking into tiny cafes for cappucinos. No matter where you go in Spain, it won't disappoint, but there is something contagious about the islands-relaxing and rich in colour and smiles.

Imagine the most beautiful decay of pastels, set alongside canals of sparkling turquoise. This is the chipped paint and sinking architecture of Venice. It's charming. It's quiet. It's unique. It's also incredibly packed with tourists wanting to experience the same coziness.

As we budgeted for our Euro summer, we decided, prior to me even arriving, that there would be no "silly tourist" things like Gondola Rides. The advice we were given was they were far too pricey for an "overrated" experience. Oh, boy were they wrong. About 15 minutes after our feet hit Venice soil, we looked at each other like two little kids, knowing the Gondola was totally happening! Our theory: we may only be here once! Let's just do it all! Who cares how much it costs! That seemed to be a theme this trip. For 80 euro we got a 45 minute tour and our gondolier definitely fit the part! He had a beautiful singing voice and serendated us with Italian musica as we floated under tiny bridges and through ivy-wrapped canals. He asked us many questions and was incredibly complimentary of our story and us together!  We must have picked the right Gondola. We liked him so much that we took a photo with him at the end of the tour and wished him luck.

Our recommendations

There is never a dull moment when you fly standby. While your chances might be good to get on a flight, last minute issues could change everything. Vice versa, while a seat might seem inconceivable, it might just turn out there is one, just for you. For this reason, we head to each flight with positivity and a few back ups, just in case.

As we prepared to fly back to Amsterdam from Hawaii, we had multiple options for layovers but Vancouver, BC had the most seats available on the plane. We decided to check it out. A few hours later, here we were. We had exactly 24 hours so we hopped on the Canada line and headed into the city. Shiny and towering above us, buildings of both modern and traditional architecture exploded all around us and the sound of cruise ships, carriers, and small sea planes whispered in our ears over the crowds.

Cas’ intrique with the sea planes brought us just a bit closer to them with each passing minute. First, we watched from a second story deck a few blocks away. The next thing I know, we were leaned up on the fence at waterfront, watching. And before you know it, we were boarding one, ourselves. The joys of being with an aviation enthusiast.

The sea plane took off and landed from the Burrard Inlet and took us on a 20 minute tour around the city and it’s surrounded sights- mountains, water, and more. Absolutely stunning.

Cas and his friends are so good, better than most I would say, at making time to spent time away together. Since they were young they’ve made sure to schedule in a lads weekend every year, no matter how close or far they ended up. Two of the guys plan the trip, surprising the rest with the adventures that follow. What always results is a fun-filled few days of various activities and lots of beer.

On this particular trip, they decided to do it a bit different. A smaller group met Cas’ parents and their friends in Greece, where they swapped places and the lads took over the sailboat.

After weeks of studying to get his international boating license, Cas was at the helm and they were sailing for the Greek islands the next day. They hopped around to multiple islands, sleeping in the harbors to the rocking of the gentle waves and dining in the tiny villages that met them.

…and off we went to Hannover on a professional development for work. We did lots of learning about inquiry in the primary classroom with the one and only, Kath Murdoch, but also wandered around the colorful streets of our first city in Germany. We met many other international school teachers from around the world to enjoy some live music and typical German food with, as well as a few toasts of their infamous beer. I’ll definitely be back to Germany soon!