How easy it is to fall behind on blogging when you get so busy…living life, I guess! It feels like yesterday when I left Cambodia. And the adventures that followed were a whirlwind, as one would expect during the craziness this time of year- except I got to experience it in snapshots at various locations around the world. Lucky me! And, yes, I do realize how lucky I am. 
So, I took off from Siam Riep and hopped over to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. After posting that I was in Cambodia I was informed by my friend, Mel, that Malaysia is close to Cambodia (yes, I actually own the bright yellow book “Geography for Dummies.” I haven’t gotten too far, obviously). I met Mel when I spent a college semester studying abroad at the Univeristy of Western Australia, in Perth. While I had many friends who also chose beautiful Australia as their study abroad destination, I was the only one who chose the most remote city on the planet as my home for six months. Literally, it is the most remote city on earth! A fact validated by John Glenn, who when he first orbited the earth reported that Perth was the only city he could differentiate from other cities. A distinctive and lonely grouping of lights, I guess? So, my college friends mostly lived in group houses in Sydney, with each other and other American students. Their experiences reminded me of the MTV show “Real World.” On the other side of the country/continent I lived in a “college,” one of several affiliated with the “uni” and it was a place where I slept, ate, and participated in a range of social activities with my new “mates,” who were mostly Australian, closely followed by residents of Singapore and Malaysia, a handful of POMs (Prisoners of Mother England), and just a few Americans. It was like I lived in the most down to earth (and all over the earth) fraternity, named St. Thomas More College. My time there was both formative and transformative, as it’s when I first had the opportunity to immerse myself in different cultures and gain perspectives that would forever alter how I viewed the world. I also made many friends who still (and will always) have a special place in my heart. It’s funny how six months of my life are still so important and impactful, many years later. I digress…so, my friend Mel was one of my St. Tommy’s mates who hailed from Malaysia. And when he reached out I jumped at the chance to check out a country I’d heard so much about over morning tea and vegemite toast 20-years prior. Here we were, at a uni ball (Mel is second from right): 
I was first impressed by the accommodation options in Kuala Lumpur- I stayed at a beautiful, centrally located Le Meridien for about $50 a night. No joke. Next, I was impressed with the infrastructure of the city. I whizzed through the huge and well-designed airport, to the efficient and well-designed high-speed train, only to be deposited in the main train station (in the torrential downpour). But before I could look up the address of my hotel on my phone, I saw a sign for it- in the train station! I followed the series of signs that took me through some walkways and overpasses and deposited me in the hotel lobby- having never been subjected to the outside elements!
Mel picked me up that night and it felt like no time at all had gone by. He took me to an authentic Malaysian restaurant, that was jammed with families sitting at round tables enjoying a dish called “the Steamboat.” I had never heard of this, but it was amazing! You basically have a vat of super-hot broth in front of you and pour in various seafood, meat and veggies to cook (fondue-style). 
Mel and I continued catching up the next day when he served as my tour guide extraordinaire and took me to the stunning Thean Hou temple, where there were multiple weddings going on (a popular nuptials destination and even an office on-site to procure a license.) 
We then swung by the Islamic Arts Museum, which is a beautifully designed building full of historical, fascinating, and aesthetically pleasing displays. There was a special exhibit about the recent trend of Australian fashion designers focusing on how to modernize/spice-up female’s traditional Muslim attire. Admittedly, I had never thought about fashion trendiness as an issue specifically for Muslim women before, but I totally get it.
After bidding Mel farewell (and promising our next meet-up would be in <20 years) I culminated my Malaysian experience with a tour of the massive Petronas towers. They are about as tall as I expected, although I did have the added advantage of having produced a documentary about “the world’s tallest twin towers” in my first post- collegiate job, with the Discovery Channel. At the time I felt like I knew TOO much about those twins from having edited hours of video! Alas, it was a very cool experience to finally see them live and in-person. 
My next stop was a quick swing through Thailand, as one does when traveling from Malaysia to London. I revisited my favorite beach from my one other time in Phuket- Nai Yang.It’s also the beach closest to the airport, which is especially convenient when you have less than 48 hours in your itinerary. This time I stayed at a hotel named “The Happy Place” and it lived up to it’s name. Some quality sun-time, several swims and beach-walks, a cheap and awesome massage,, and a few delicious meals later, I was off to chilly London. But at least I had a tan! 
My flight from Phuket to London (via Cologne) took way longer than I’d expected (having not paid attention to the flight times…hence my need for a geography boot camp). Anyways, many hours later I did arrive in London and connected with my host for the long weekend…the handsome and mostly funny Rob, who I’d met during my Flash Pack tour of India & Nepal two months prior. We’d kept in good touch since the tour and decided a visit was in order (it may have been a factor that at the time I’d thought Thailand was just a hop, skip, and a jump from his home city). Regardless, it was a great visit and I loved seeing London all decked out for Christmas. We went to a “Winter Wonderland” where I even got a view of the city from a Ferris wheel! This is a selfie from the Ferris wheel…guess I forgot to take a picture of the view 🤦♀️. 
Oh wait, here’s a London view shot- 
I also had a true British experience by attending a holiday celebration at Rob’s cricket club (btw, the only thing I know about cricket is that each match is 6-7 HOURS long. It makes baseball seem like the 100-meter dash). The theme of the cricket club party was the classic “ugly holiday jumper” (could this be more British?!) and Rob fully represented (although unclear if his jumper is for Thanksgiving or Christmas).
The next day I was sad to say goodbye to the handsome and mostly funny Rob (not so torn up about leaving his jumper) but time to move onward to D.C. for the holiday homestretch!
First thing was first when I got home as it was the week before Christmas and I had zero decorations up! I focused on my balcony display, facing busy 16th St., as I was sure all the commuters had missed seeing Steve the Snowman waving at them while stuck in rush hour traffic. Have no fear- soon Steve was back and all was right in the world. 
The front desk guy laughed when he saw me putting up the display and said he’d wait for the phone to start ringing. Okay, so there there may have been just a COUPLE of concerns from other building residents last year. Mostly because it’s possible that I was perhaps a smidge over-enthusiastic promoting holiday cheer via the use of “star showers,” which I used to project hundreds of lights onto the front of my building, making it look like the ENTIRE building was covered in strings of lights! It was SO COOL! (P.S. Some of the lights even blinked!) Well, apparently there are either a few Scrooges in my building or a few people who are annoyed by a couple of stray blinking lights projected onto their TV screens. Most likely both 🤨 Bottom line: I scaled it back this year, in true Bah-Humbug fashion.
So, I spent Christmas Eve/Morning at my brother and sister-in-law’s in Alexandria. I helped my nieces and nephews track Santa around the world via the NORAD tracker app and my 8-year old nephew (who was desperate to catch the big man in action this year) said he made it until 11pm, when Santa was in NY. He was sooo close!
I joined my friend Sarah and her family for a lovely Christmas dinner at her parents’ house on Capitol Hill and when I got home I decided a Christmas Day viewing of ‘Love Actually’ was in order. This is mostly because I’ve heard (about a trillion times) what a fantastic holiday movie it is, and I’ve disputed this, as I was NOT a fan. Some of my friends are incredulous about this harsh, and sometimes divisive, reality.
So, I have to admit…I saw ‘Love Actually’ many years ago, on the same day a guy I had been dating broke up with me. Yes, HE broke up with ME. This was the first time THAT had happened and after venting to my brother for much of the afternoon, he suggested I go home and distract myself….watch a movie or something. Clearly it was the perfect night for me to watch an intense holiday love story, by myself. Clearly. Let bygones be bygones…last night I gave it another whirl and saw what all the hype was about. Yet another poignant example of what a difference your perspective makes.
Next…headed up to New Hampshire to meet my newest nephew, Theodore!! Preview of the cutie:
Le gave us the full-scoop on the sitch and for the first of many times on my tours of Vietnam and Cambodia I realized that the history I’d been taught in school wasn’t entirely accurate. I knew of Ho Chi Mihn from history class, mostly in reference to his communist regime and his trail. I guess I didn’t have a warm and fuzzy about him as a result of these associations but honestly hadn’t given it all that much thought. Le educated us as to the real deal, from his perspective, and it seems Ho Chi was a hero of sorts to the Vietnamese- a stand-up guy who lived a modest life, refused to live the garish lifestyle to which he was entitled, and authentically had the best interest of “the people” in mind, without the corruption that has been rampant in Communist regimes since. It was interesting that as we sat on the curb across the well-guarded street from the Mausoleum, and while Le sat in front of us explaining the site, he was admonished by an officer for having his back to Ho Chi. 
Le looked surprised before rotating his position, but not too surprised as it seems rules are both created and enforced kinda willy-nilly in Vietnam these days. Le also shared that he has to be careful what he’s telling us when in public or around others as free speech does not seem to be encouraged by the government, sadly. In fact, while we were there I saw on news flash (from the U.S.) that a Vietnamese blogger had just been sentenced to seven years in jail for writing about an environmental disaster (a disaster that had really happened but the government didn’t want shared publicly). Le assured me that my Teha’s Travels post on the trip would not have any negative ramifications but I chose to err on the side of caution and wait until I was out of the country to post this.
We then cruised back to the city, made a stop at Le’s house, AND even got to meet his parents! They welcomed us with tea and fresh pineapple and bananas that they had grown, of course. 
That evening there was no rest for the weary as we prepared to board an overnight train that would take us north. Having only taken day trains I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was actually quite nice! We stayed in sleeper cars with two bunk beds in each room. It reminded me of summer camp- minus the pillow fights. 
While some in the group reported not reaching REM sleep cycles (or any sleep cycles), the movement of the train lulled me right to sleep. We arrived in beautiful Sapa just in-time for breakfast and then embarked on a spectacular hike- the adrenaline from the views making even the sleepless forget they were supposed to be tired. 
Our smily and charismatic hiking guide, Meg, deftly navigated us through the windy mountains, covered in lush rice patties, smatterings of villages, and the occasional buffalo. 
Meg led us on another hike the next day and we swung by the remote hut/house where her grandfather lives, along with a bunch of aunts, uncles and cousins. Meg herself lived in the three-roomed hut for four years as a child, as her family needed whatever money she could bring in from selling bracelets and other woven items to tourists in the surrounding area. She did return to school, but not for long, and while her English is perfect, she admits not knowing how to read or write…but is working hard to make sure it’s different for her 6 year old son. Here she is with her grandfather:
We relaxed that afternoon before hopping on the Night Train back to Hanoi (‘Midnight Train to Georgia’ kept going through my head- the Indigo Girls version). Then in true Trains, Planes, and Automobile (& boats) style we headed to the airport for a quick flight only to have a chariot (aka bus) scoop us up and deposit us at our home for the next two days…a junk boat cruising through Halong Bay! Let me be clear that we were definitely not roughing it, as we were aboard a very non-junky vessel, where we enjoyed delicious and beautifully presented meals, sunshine on the top decks, and a kayak trip among the dozens of “islands” that are ginormous rock formations. 
That evening we also had a cooking lesson (on the lido deck, of course) on how to make spring rolls. 
Okay…now is the time to admit that I had a bit of a love affair with spring rolls on this trip- the fried version worked but my favorite are actually the fresh version with rice paper. I can safely say that I ate dozens of them during the two week trip. I also know 13 people who can validate this fact. Here’s a sampling of one of my typical breakfast plates:
The evening brought some authentic group bonding through karaoke…while it took us a few minutes (and several drinks) to get going- we did not disappoint. Although we may have disappointed the residents of the surrounding boats docked for the evening who were looking to go to bed early!
Please note the mic of the bike tour guide…and he used it every time he spoke even though the amplification it provided (if any) was extremely negligible. We also took a cooking class and learned how to make THE MOST delicious fish, seasoned with a mixture of fresh spices and wrapped in banana leaves before being cooked over the flame of a large outdoor oven. 
It was scrumptious and while we were given the recipe, I have doubts about my ability to replicate it using bottled spices, tin foil, and the stand-up George Forman grill I have on my balcony. Alas, I will try!
Our visit to Ho Chi Minh city started on a somber note with a visit to the Remembrance museum, which commemorates the “People’s War” (what the Vietnamese call the Vietnam war). As difficult and emotional as it was to see and take in, it was such an important part of the trip for me as I increasingly realized how gaping the holes in my knowledge of the war were and the sad realities I was protected from. The hardest part to see was an exhibit on the effects of Agent Orange on the Vietnamese people. The exhibit consists of large photographs and short biographies of some of the many Vietnamese who were born with horrific birth defects as a result of the chemical warfare. These poor children (many now adults) have unconscionable deformities yet many have worked hard to lead accomplished lives, despite receiving very little (if anything) in reparations for their suffering. I was saddened to learn that the impacts of Agent Orange can be passed down to future generations and that there are now third generation children suffering. I have to admit that I was truly embarrassed to be an American as we went through the museum and each exhibit demonstrated more of the devastation the war caused. 
The next day my education about the “People’s War” continued with a visit to a location close to the Cambodian border where many of the underground tunnels were located. Again, I must admit my ignorance as to the magnitude of these tunnels. And by magnitude I mean how many of them there were and how long they extended (hundreds of miles!), not the size of the actual tunnels. Let me be clear- the tunnels are TINY- here’s an entrance to one! 
I would venture to guess that 96% of American adults would not have been able to fit into a tunnel. Maybe closer to 98%, actually, given current obesity rates. My fabulous roommate, Rachel, fit perfectly though! 
We got to walk/crawl through a faux tunnel designed to give tourists a better sense of the experience but with the HUGE caveat that the amusement park version was three times bigger than the real deal, and that the actual tunnels were pitch black. And apparently the tunnels weren’t just for cruising around- people, entire families, actually LIVED in those tunnels to stay protected from bombings, and for long periods of time. To say I can’t even imagine what that was like is the understatement of the century. During the tour we could have walk-crawled further in the faux tunnel system but we all opted to get out as quickly as possible. It was hard to be in there- and I’m not even claustrophobic. And, while in the tunnel I flashed-back to family vacations as a kid when my siblings and I would complain about too much “family togetherness” sharing a hotel room or small beach rental. I then learned about the ultimate demonstration of family togetherness, tunnel-style, as there were several babies born in the tunnels! Le said the “tunnel babies” had a reunion recently and he got to meet one of them.
Soon we were off to Phnom Penh, the capitol city. One of the many reasons Keasar was an awesome guide is that he gave us the real scoop on his native country, as difficult as I know it was for him to share. As we drove into the clean, built-up, and somewhat glitzy capital city we noted it was a far cry from the scenery along the sparse, dusty roads that got us there. 
K explained that the current government in Cambodia is quite corrupt (similar to how Le described Vietnam) and that he would have to be careful about where he could talk to us about the real deal- it would probably be mostly on the bus. K informed us that Phnom Penh does have some money, or at least they’re putting money into things like huge statues and portraits of the king, but, in reality, it’s more of a facade to convince the rest of the world that the country is doing really well. Here’s the current King…he’s everywhere! 
In reality, we learned, the country is not doing really well. In fact, the majority of the country is poor and 70% don’t have access to piped water. In addition, due to the mass killings during the war in the 1970s, 65% of the population is currently under the age of 25. [Side note- in case you aren’t familiar with the nitty gritty of the Cambodian war, as I was not- approx 1/4 of the population- TWO MILLION people- were killed in massacres by the Communist regime, the Khumer Rouge. Yes, I told you I learned a lot of harsh realities on his trip…but I’m glad I did]. Keasar also shared that there is a lot of fear right now as children aren’t being educated properly (or at all) and aren’t being told anything about the country’s tragic history…things the country can learn from. Given that youngsters are the majority in the country, this is especially concerning. K is not the only one terrified that if things don’t change, history will repeat itself. He’s doing more than his part by starting a school in the remote village where he grew up (and where both of his parents were tragically killed as a result of the conflicts when he was a young boy). The school focuses on teaching English to the village children as K feels this skill is essential to avoiding an insular future and establishing a global presence. K relies on volunteers (some from his tours!) to teach at the school for whatever periods of time they can spare and provides a bedroom with a local family. I have to admit I’m very tempted…
My tour-mate, Anne, gave a donation to one survivor and bought the books of the other two and said “I don’t know that I can even bring myself to read them but I just don’t want them to have to tell those stories again.”
Several areas were marked- one as a location of a mass grave where 150 women and children had been buried naked…the majority had been beheaded. Next to that grave was a large tree covered in friendship bracelets. It was marked “the killing tree” as children had been tied to a rope and thrown against the tree over repeatedly before being deposited in the grave. 
There were also markers where the sound system speakers were located- to drown out the noise from the killings. In the middle of the fields there’s a large memorial, filled with skulls from the victims, each labeled with if they were male or female and how they died (bayonet, bullet, iron tool, etc.) There aren’t words to describe the feeling of looking at all those skulls, in the middle of the field, while in a beautiful country where every person you’ve met has been incredibly warm and welcoming.
Needless to say, we were all a little/lot emotionally exhausted and somewhat shell-shocked after our morning. We had some time to chill-out and process that afternoon before embarking on an evening boat cruise up the river, where we passed by many floating houses/boats full of families waving excitedly at us. I couldn’t help think that maybe I’d get sick of tourist boats, blasting music, cruising by my home but everyone seemed excited to see us.
The next day we embarked on our final trip, to Siem Reap. There we had an o’dark thirty morning where we got up at 4 AM to see Angor Wat at sunrise (totally worth it).
Don’t we look chipper for having had such an early bell? 
We also toured a few other spectacular temples in the area (including one where they filmed the Tomberator apparently) and saw a gorgeous sunset from the top of one massive temple. 
In each case I was in awe of the grandeur of the ancient structures and the detail that adorned them. 
On the final day of the tour (boo!) I took an optional tour of a “floating village,” of which there are apparently hundreds. And we’re talking about real villages, complete with schools, temples, stores etc. The water levels vary based on the season and rainfall but most of the time the village is truly floating and boat is the only way to get around. It was one final awe-inspiring glimpse into the Cambodian culture and the spirit of the people who make it so. 
Saying goodbye at the end of the tour is always the worst part (without a doubt) and this trip was no exception, although I’ve learned that “we’ll stay in touch, for sure!” isn’t just something Flash Packers just say. I’ve been happy and impressed by how well previous groups have stayed in touch, via What’s App groups, in-person get-togethers and even planning future trips together! This knowledge made it easier to bid farewell to my new friends, with whom I’d shared some intense, eye-opening experiences and also some really fun times. 
My few hours only made me want to go back for more- both to Lima and Peru as a whole. I’ve also heard lots of rave reviews about Argentina and am officially adding both countries to my “someday but hopefully soon” travel destination list.
Yes, it was a smidge chaotic as well, with the little ones having just been reunited, so I was not super-sad to pilot Uber New Hampshire a few hours later to meet my besties (Maegan and Nichole) for a birthday celebration for Maegan. I’ve known Mae and Cole since I was 10 and 2 years old, respectfully. 
Those additional eight years I’ve know Cole have become pretty much insignificant over-time and the three of us are the closest that friends can be. (Minus Cole and I playing much tag and Red Rover in our bowl haircuts and Velcro sneakers- you really missed out Mae!). So, this was a big bday for Maegan, (sort of like her 30th) and her amazing hubby, Ken (aka Pic), planned an entire extravaganza that, conveniently for me, was taking place in New Hampshire- while I was in New Hampshire! 
We enjoyed drinks and an amazing dinner, that could not have been more perfect. They even cracked a yolk in the middle of my pasta and stirred it in when served…Yum! 
It was such a great night catching up and celebrating Maegan- one of nights where your heart sings with happiness (okay, that could really not be more cheesy but it’s kinda true). It reminded me that no matter where my travels take me or what people I meet along the way, nothing will ever be the same as time with my first and best friends. And, my parents moving out of my hometown doesn’t change that at all (huge phew!).
There really is no place like home. [Sidenote: yes, I changed my mind while writing this…my parents’ new house is home after all. I realized it’s the family who make it so, not the brick and mortar or location].
On the Wednesday before turkey day my five year-old nephew, Felix, and I embarked on a short road trip to Beverly (my hometown) for an annual apple pie baking “contest” with Nichole and Maegan (more like we bake apple pies together and trash talk each other’s). While I clearly piloted the journey to Bev-town, Felix played a key role as navigator extraordinaire. I’ve honestly never seen anything like it. The little dude sat in his car seat directly behind the drivers seat, but leaned in towards the middle seat so his head was sideways and he had a clear view of the road. He then proceeded to direct me (I’m talking turn by turn directions) using only route numbers. Example: “Auntie Teha, we need to get on Route 101 to 95. It’s exit 6.” On the way back he did the same thing- in the dark! I questioned him once (the exit number didn’t seem right) and he just shook his head, knowingly. Sure enough, Felix was correct! It was uncanny. Google Maps, be gone with you!
This year I brought my A-game (not having a job increases time available to focus on apple pies), and according to our crowd-sourced Facebook voting process…I won! (BTW, voting included both our high school calculus teacher and field hockey coach- gotta love small town crowd-sourcing).
I was especially impressed that Auntie L kept her cool during a minor candied yam issue, and I think we were all laughing too hard to do anything about it! 
My 92 year-old Nan was also in attendance and I was happy she agreed to spend two nights at our “home” as she usually prefers her own. Here she is catching up on my blog. 
My sister and I took Nan to the spa for a massage on the day after Thanksgiving- her second massage ever. Her first was on her 92nd birthday and she loved it, so it was time to bring on number two! This one was equally well-received and the three of us were pampered with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries after the treatments (tea for Tobi since she’s preggers with number three- less than a month to go!)
Then, before I knew it I was scrambling to pack and headed off to the airport (two things I’ve done a LOT of lately). Goodbyes were bittersweet, as it had been a great week with the fam but I was excited for my next adventure to Vietnam and Cambodia. And the next time I see my sister she’ll have a new bambino in her tribe!
My “figuring it out” involved some quick googling, multiple calls to companies in Vietnam to who claimed to be able to procure visas in 15 minutes. I sent in one application, waited 15 minutes, and received nothing back. I finally stumbled across a company run by a gent named Tony who promised to hook it up for me. Tony was true to his word- phew! [note to self- in the future check if you need a visa before the day of your travel. Duh!]. I was so happy to get on the plane that I didn’t think about my 10 hour layover in Doha, Qatar until I landed. Then I thought about it…Ten hours is a long time! Again, I turned to Mr. Google who informed me that Qatar Airlines offers free three-hour city tours for passengers with long layovers! What a relief! They even provided a free 24-hour visa and an English speaking guide. It was fascinating to learn more about the country (only 2.6 million residents and 85% are ex-pats, mostly from Asian countries). Qatar has a lot of new fancy desert-style developments , with more underway (much of it in the form of 5-star hotels and luxury shopping) and we learned that it’s cheaper to buy a liter of gas than water! 
Our last stop was a local market where we had some time to explore and take in the sites and sounds.
Whew! Yes, my time home may seem like a whirlwind. Yes, my time home was definitely a whirlwind. No, I am not complaining. I swear!!! (My friends have banned me from complaints of ANY sort while living my current Teha’s Travels lifestyle. I get it, I get it.)
Lucky for us Felipe is actually from Valpo and he deftly led us through the charming streets that include a variety of architectural styles within the French, German, and British influenced neighborhoods. Here’s Felipe in action! 
We enjoyed a lovely rooftop lunch before traveling on to the beautiful Bodega winery. (Btw, I’m slowly finding myself using more British words like “lovely” and “brilliant,” which I blame the influence of my travelmates from Mother England. If only the accent would rub off too!).
The rosè was especially delicious and was a blend called Pinotel that is a blend of Pinot Noir and something else I can’t remember. After the tasting we sat outside and enjoyed a final glass of wine before heading back to Santiago for dinner and pisco sours (Chile seems to be poaching Peru’s drink. No complaining here, though…not that I’m allowed to complain anyways).
The ride even had entertainment as my tour-mate, Dan, was behind me in the line of horses…waaay behind me. 
His horse had a bad-ass name (Conquistator or something like that) but didn’t seem to respond to any sort of kicking or cajoling by Dan to move along (or at least the way he was doing it). Dan was the “class clown” of the group as he was always laughing, often at his own jokes (even when nobody else was) and he took the horse situation in-stride, albeit with nonstop laughter. Even the guide seemed amused by the situation. Meanwhile my horse, named Wheat (because of it’s wheat color- so not creative or bad-ass) was totally on it, even trotting at times! Here’s the dynamic duo of Dan and Conquistador (aka the Caboose).
That afternoon was truly spectacular as we embarked on two hikes- one to Moon Valley (that really looked and felt like you were on the moon) and Death Valley (that was not as scary as it’s name but was stunning and we got to run down the way dunes into the valley!). 
The bright Chilean sun enhanced our adventures- it’s so blue and brilliant in it’s hue and so different from the sunlight I’ve seen anywhere else. Chile should really be an Instagram filter…you heard it here first. Perfect background for silly photos opps (our specialty!) 
Our senses were on overload when the day ended with a fantastic sunset viewing, completed with a vino toast (thanks to Filipe!). You don’t see sunsets like this everyday. Or, really, any day. 
And the day was not over yet! We grabbed street-stand empanadas for dinner and were jettied off to a “stargazing experience.” This was in the middle of nowhere, where you see more stars than you thought existed (for the record 2,000 are up there each night, we were told). We stood under the night sky in a circle as our guide (a real jokester) walked us through the various constellations we could see from the southern part of the Southern Hemisphere. Who knew there was so much fodder for comedy in the world of constellations?! Between him and Tina’s equally funny quips my stomach hurt from laughing the next day (it was already sore from horseback riding). Comedian stargazer also used a laser pointer to show us on the ground where the “missing” stars (such as the North Star) were located. I saw four shooting stars throughout the night and had to think fast to come up with wishes! At the end we got to look through six massive telescopes, each pointed to various stars/constellations we’d learned about. I took a picture of the beautiful star-filled sky but it didn’t quite do it justice. 
We continued on to some thermal baths (as one does) and took in the views while decompressing in the naturally warm water. The rest of the day consisted of the group engaging in a collective combination of sand boarding, relaxing at the pool, shopping in the town, dinner, drinks, karaoke, and Jenga. 
Really something for everyone and we enjoyed sharing our experiences (and photos and videos) with each other on the bus the next day, as we embarked on a travel day to the Lake District. We arrived early enough to take a boat ride across the spectacular lake directly in front of our hotel and walk back along the shoreline that consists of volcanic ash from an eruption in 2015. 
I’d never walked on volcanic ash before and became even more familiar with it on our stunning hike two days later (during which I realized I should have brought hiking boots as the packing list indicated- my sneakers/trainers were moon boots by the end- as I dumped out loads of what looked like moon dust).
The highlight (for me) was when I got to fork over my paddle and sit in the very front of the boat as we cruised through an intense set of rapids. It was like I was a hood ornament on the raft! 
At one point on the trip we (meaning the guides) pulled the boats over and led us to a cliff we could jump off of. This was not like regular cliff jumping, as you were landing in rapids. We were told to do a “pencil jump” directly in front of the cliff so you land in the slightly more calm water and can swim quickly to the shore. One of the guides stood on the cliff giving instructions and the other was on a rock in the water with a rope to throw if a rescue was needed. Which it was. For one person. One guess as to who? 
Okay, so in looking at the photographic evidence it’s clear that I was over-zealous in my jump and did pretty much the furthest thing from a pencil jump. As a result I landed pretty far out in the river and (according to the bystanders) directly in a fast-moving rapid. I sensed this when underwater as it took me longer than expected to rise to the surface. At that point I turned to swim to shore and realized it was quite far away and I was moving quickly away from it. Then there was some yelling and a rope being thrown towards me. Thankfully the rope was just long enough for me to grab it and be pulled to safety. 
Phew! Those rapids are not something I would have wanted to experience sans boat.
In addition to being environmentally friendly, it was also a fabulous hot tub experience- Goldilocks style. The water was not too hot, not too cold…but was juuust right! Love it when fairytales translate to adult hot tub experiences.
We boarded a boat the next morning that would kick-off a full-day “glacier hunting” expedition via various watercrafts and deposit us at our new accommodations (further south) at the end of the day. And then bar was raised YET AGAIN. I kid you not. 
We also got to see penguin-like birds up close in one area and a bunch of sea lions hanging out on a rock in another. Apparently the sea lions are only visible on that rock a few times a year, so we were lucky! 
Our group was actually told many times throughout the trip that we were lucky- our various hikes all seemed to happen on “the first nice day” in a while and had crystal clear views that we probably took for granted. In each place we stopped the local guides would thank us for bringing the good weather and beg us not to take it with us.
We had waaay too much fun in the orange outfits.
And the views…especially from the viewpoint peak where there’s a turquoise blue glacial lake surrounded by massive rock peaks and cliffs (this was a pleasant surprise for me, of course, but others seemed to know it would be there). This is Tina, Dan, me, and The Amazing Karen- for whom this hike was the 52nd in a 52 hike challenge she’d been doing!
We gave Flash Pack a lil shout-out from the summit. 
It’s fair to say we were all pretty beat after 10 hours of trekking but our high from the experience lasted for days. Here we are in the bus, post-hike. 
Good-byes were sad, as always, but easier this time as several of us were staying for another night (for me this was bc flights were cheaper if I waited a day). My Chilean partner in crime (Aussie Tina) was also staying, so we shared a room. Aussie Tina and I are very much alike (minus the fact she owns her own business and I don’t even have a job) and we always have a ton of fun together. Someone in the group said we should have our own YouTube channel as she thinks it would be a big hit. I think I’ll hold for now on the “Tina-Teha Show” pilot. The world isn’t ready yet. 
The nine of us remaining spent our post-tour day touring and eating our way through Santiago (I admit we were a bit lost at first without Filipe shepherding us around). We hit up the art museum and sculpture garden before enjoying lunch at Santiago’s only Vietnamese restaurant (thanks Tina!). 
Three more in our group then departed (boo!) and the “then there were six” crew enjoyed a last-last supper from a rooftop bar while taking in the sites and sounds of the city (including 80’s music). Note: Ever since Chile transitioned to a democracy in 1990 and people could freely listen to music again, the Chileans have been obsessed with making up for lost time and the music they missed in the 80’s. It’s pretty much all they play- no complaints here!
Anyways, back to India!!! My intro to the country was a 30 min drive from the airport to the hotel, during which I saw goats passing by on the highway, people hanging off trucks, loud consistent honking and no stoplights or street signs to guide anything. And at the time I didn’t realize the airport road is one of more kept up ones- it’s even paved!
We dove right in on our first full day with a walking tour of Old Delhi, which is the oldest part of the city, consisting of dusty dirt streets jammed with cars, motorbikes, rick shaws, regular bikes, people, cows, goats…pretty much anything you can imagine. There is also a LOT of honking in these narrow streets. It’s unclear to an interloper what the honking means exactly…as everyone is doing it all the time. This begs the Driver’s Ed question of how do you know which horn to listen to, and if you pick one to listen to, how do you know what it means? Go chew on that Mr. Carr (Mr. Carr was my Driver’s Ed instructor in high school- yes that really was his name). It’s amazing that the system seems to work and the roads are deftly navigated by cars and cows alike. 
After taking in something for all five senses (no shortage of material for the senses in the streets of Old Delhi) we had lunch at a private home that hosts small groups for a delicious home-cooked Indian meal in a gorgeous setting abundant with historical relics and the stories to accompany them. We all agreed it was one of the best meals of the trip (amongst many yummy meals). It was interesting, though, to only interact with the “man of the house” (who served as our host) while his wife (and the chef) was in the kitchen the entire time. Sadly (from a western perspective), the idea of men being even remotely involved in cooking or food prep is non-existent. The men provide the food and the women cook it. That’s just how it is- even among the seemingly more-progressive folks we met. 
While we learned that overall there have been slow improvements to females’ role and treatment in the Indian society, there is still a lot of room for improvement. For example, there were multiple times during the tour that only the men in the group were addressed and it was like the women weren’t even there. One of these times was during a jewelry shop tour where the owner explained the various Indian gemstones in detail but was only addressing one of the men in our group, who tried to seem interested while the women struggled to get questions answered. Of course culture takes a long time to change but the experience was really eye-opening, especially given the great strides that Nathan told us have taken place already.
Next, we hopped on the bus (for the first of several road trips) during which many of us were mesmerized looking out the window at sites and sounds so different from anything we’d seen before. We arrived in Jaipur that afternoon to our accommodations in a beautiful palace setting, where we would be spending the next two nights. It was an early bell the next morning as we cruised over to the Krishna temple and watched the majestic colors come to life with the rising sun, embellished by the sounds of prayer. 
That afternoon our minds (and cameras) continued to be blown with a trip to the Akbar fort, which is a glam super-old fort on a hill with stellar views. On the walk to the fort there were many individuals peddling their wares and our group couldn’t help but pick up a few essential accessories.
As we explored the fort we were also flattered to be asked to be photographed by Nepalese children (okay, so technically I was not specifically asked but others in the group were…multiple times. And even to join a class photo! I think I must have just seemed unapproachable with my parasol and all? My story = going with it). 
Next we ventured on to the city of Agra. (P.s. The three cities we visited, Delhi, Jaipur, and Agra, are known as the Golden Triangle of India- so a popular tourist route to check off the big-ticket items but, despite this, I never felt that anywhere we went was over-run with tourists. Maybe overrun with horns and people but that’s part of the India experience). On the way to Agra we stopped at a “Batman monument” that I had low expectations for, having never seen the movie (shhhh!). It was soooo cool, and was basically a huge, deep well with many steps, from which water was fetched back in the day to prevent the royalty from becoming parched. Not sure what the purpose was in the Batman movie but it’s a pretty cool background for anything in my opinion.
So, on to Agra! The objective of this city can be boiled down to it’s wonder of the world…the Taj Mahal. Of course I knew it was a wonder of the world before the trip? Nope. Nor did I know there are both natural and unnatural/man-made wonders of the world. This discovery and clarifying the various lists was fodder for bus ride conversation for a good hour. Despite not knowing the WOTW thing in advance, I completely agree with the person, people, or committee who deemed the Taj Mahal as one. Btw, I wonder who does decide the wonders? I might need to look into that.
Anyways, the Taj Mahal completely blew me away. Especially during the early morning hours as we were one of the first in when they opened at sunrise. Pictures are better descriptors than words.
We jumped right into a rickshaw street food tour of our favorite hood…Old Delhi!
After a long day of travel we were happy to settle into our accommodations at a beautiful waterfront hotel with postcard-like views. The next day we were treated with even better views (didn’t think it possible) as we embarked on two days of trekking in the mountains. 
We even had sherpas carrying our supplies for us, like we were hiking Everest! I don’t think being a sherpa is in the cards for my next career, though.
We followed our mountain guide up many steps and inclines to the mountain town of Dhampus where we stayed at the family-run Basanta lodge, with phenomenal views (noticing a theme with the views on this trip??)
During the trek the sites and sounds of Dwali were prominent, as in multiple locations on the trail children blocked our path by holding hands and singing the songs of Dwali, hopeful for rupia in exchange for letting us pass.
We also passed many villagers, who were all extremely friendly with the traditional “Namaste” greeting as we passed. This was a theme throughout my time in Nepal- the people are SO nice and really make an effort to talk to you and share their culture.
We were told that the theme of the Dwali festival during our night in the mountain village meant that families would show up outside neighbor’s homes (complete with a portable sound system) and dance for them- kind of like Christmas caroling except afterwards the owner of the home presents them with a gift. 
We loved watching the dances and finally joined in, not to be deterred by a rainstorm (I didn’t say we were GOOD dancers!) 
We sojourned on in the morning, down the mountain and back to our waterfront hotel where we were happy to relax and enjoy the stunning lake views. The next day I woke up and exclaimed to my awesome roommate, Louise, “it’s paragliding day!!!” She’s not so much a morning person and usually ignored my early morning chatter, but despite not saying anything I knew she was excited too. Here’s me and my awesome roomie: 
I was way more excited than scared as we boarded the van to drive to our launch point but as we drove up the twisty mountain road (and up and up and up) I started to feel twinges of nervousness. By the time we reached the top the group’s chatter had subsided and we all tried not to look down but couldn’t help ourselves. We were HIGH! I took some consolation in knowing there was an instructor attached to me, and that he had a lot incentive to make sure things went smoothly for both of us. After a running start we were in the air- literally flying like a bird for 30 whole minutes! It was absolutely incredible, both the views and the exhilaration. 
The way paragliding works, the instructor can adjust the parachute to catch the wind in different ways and you can actually go up and down. At first we went up so high that my ears almost popped- it was so much fun to look down at the birds beneath me and to wave at my friends whizzing by in a sky dotted with paragliders.
Still on the adrenaline rush from paragliding we opted to spend our “free afternoon” visiting a local orphanage. Amar kindly set up the visit and helped us purchase supplies to bring to them. We were told they needed paper and pens so we got a set for each of the 22 girls (it was a girls-only orphanage) but that seemed kinda boring so we also got a bunch of “fun stuff” that we enjoyed playing with them in a big dirt field. The girls were incredibly articulate (their English was almost perfect) and seemed thrilled to have visitors as well as some new games. 
We learned from the director that the girls come from varied backgrounds- some were found abandoned and others had families that couldn’t care for them. Despite this, they were full of smiles and giggles…and with the seemingly carefree exuberance of other girls their age. It was truly a humbling experience to meet them. We concluded our visit with a ceremonial presentation of the supplies we’d brought and a group picture (as well as many requests for our names so they could look for us on Facebook).
Our final adventure of the trip was a whitewater rafting trip down the Seti river. The first day was pretty calm and we paddled along taking in the serene atmosphere and waving at school children crossing the many suspension brides high above us. We spent the night “glamping” at the Seti River Camp, overlooking the mountains and river, before day 2 of rafting, that brought with it some shriek-worthy rapids.
Our final big bus trip was back to Katmandu, where we spent the final two days as a group. We went to the nearby city of Patan, where we saw firsthand remains of the damage down by the tragic 2015 earthquake that took over 3,000 lives. For reasons unknown some of the temples were completely decimated while others were untouched. The country’s resilience is evident in both their restoration efforts and their unwavering faith and perseverance in the face of tragedy.
The next day I had to say goodbye to my new friends as they left for their respective flights, as I was staying in Katmandu for a few more days. I stayed in a lively part of town (called Thamel) and enjoyed exploring the city more, shopping at the street stands, visiting local attractions (including the Monkey Temple), and touring the nearby ancient town of Bhaktapur (known as the “City of Culture”). 
I also enjoyed many more of my favorite Nepalese food- the Momo. Momo’s came highly recommended by my friend Sarah, whose parents used to live in Nepal. They are like a cross between a dumpling and a potsticker and have different fillings (veggie, chicken, or buffalo- cow meat is rare in Nepal as the cow is a sacred animal in the Hindu religion). My favorite were chicken and after I first tried them I think I had them every day, sometimes twice.
Man, do I miss those momos. I also miss my 12 new friends (although we’ve maintained a consistent banter on our What’s App group) and the two very special countries that I had the honor of visiting.
We enjoyed many of the food and drink offerings from Porto, but got too busy exploring to visit the official port-making establishments along the beautiful river. We did have time to stop and join two local girls jumping in the river on a hot day.
The tour ended with a ferry boat ride to an island across the river from Lisbon and the three of us explored a bit by walking to the other side, where we found a restaurant whose claim of being waterfront cannot be questioned…to the point we worried about falling in! 
Later that day we lost one third of the Travelling Trio (Page) who had to give into the body aches and chills that had started the day before and gotten worse (she’s a trooper and had suffered silently). Poor Page spent most of the last two days in bed and while Jenny and I kept going, it just wasn’t the same!
iNeither Jenny or I knew anything of this particular sporting contest until then but quickly learned it was a big deal as the two teams had been been neck-in-neck for first place and the winner would clinch a spot in the 2018 World Cup. I’dnever been to a pro soccer/futbol match and the enthusiasm around this one sparked my interest so I asked a few (exactly two) Swiss guys if they had extra tickets. The first laughed in my face and explained how HUGE this match was and how it had been sold out forever and they’d travelled all the way there for the game, etc, etc. Undeterred I made my second inquiry that resulted in an “actually, I do have two tickets!” said almost like he’d forgotten. As I actually think he had given that his friend who couldn’t make it at the last minute had a family emergency to attend to. For some reason (it was late and I still hadn’t grasped the importance of the game) I still negotiated with the Swiss guy and for some reason (unknown) he ended up selling them to us for 20 euro each! Given that the supply on tickets online was exactly zero (we checked) I’d say we got a good deal. And now I feel a little bit bad about my negotiations!
We followed the (thankfully) very precise instructions of Jenny’s friend who had been there the week before. The two of were lost without our beacon, Page! We toured the Pena palace that is out of this world in it’s grandeur. 
King Ferdinand really did it up with his renovations in the 1800s. They really went all out and some may say it’s a smidge over the top, They even have the furniture from back in the day in all the rooms..so many rooms! 
We then explored the vastly contrasting Castle of the Moors, just down the hill. It was surreal thinking about long ago it had been constructed, and how they moved all those rocks! Here were are token castle pics (looking closely for Jenny- think Where’s Waldo).
It was a phenomenal game resulting in a 2-0 win for the home team. The energy in the stadium felt electric as everyone (literally EVERY one) of the 61k+ fans sat/stood transfixed on every single second of the game. Men, women, and children alike did not take their eyes off the field, minus halftime but even then everyone was careful to be back in their seats early. 
Maybe it was because it was a weeknight but we also noticed that very few people were drinking during the game. I guess that would have required getting up and missing some play to get drinks, but even at halftime we saw only a handful of people drinking beer. I just couldn’t imagine a sporting event in the U.S. with the spectators having that level of sober intensity and enthusiasm. Anyways, the game was a blast and we felt so lucky to have stumbled across the tickets!
I started the next day with a run in the stunning Retiro park before taking off for more exploring. The museums were closed due to a bank holiday so Javier suggested I hit up the same spots we had the night before as they are different (and equally beautiful) in the daylight, and of course he was right. I explored some bustling must-see plazas, (Plaza de Mayor, Plaza de Santa Ana, and Plaza de Espana) as well as the breath-taking Almudena Cathedral and the well-protected Palacio Real. 
Then, it was back to the good ole airport! [As an aside, it blows my mind how few metro stations in Europe have escalators or working elevators, and even on the train-line where people will definitely be lugging suitcases. Or maybe I’m just being a lazy American.]
Side note: These have been very pleasant perks of solo dining- being able to score tables for one sans reservation and having some great interactions with restaurant staff who seem extra helpful and chatty. At one restaurant in Marseille the owner sat down with me for a while!
With a protest under my belt, I ventured on to the Aljaheria Palace, where everything was in Spanish (including the free tour) so I didn’t learn much about it but enjoyed seeing it nevertheless. I mean who doesn’t like a good palace? 
I then explored the La Magdalena cathedral and went to the top of the bell tower for aerial views of the city. 
After much more exploring and a delicious lunch I went back to my hotel to relax for a bit before heading back out for dinner. 
Well, once I sat down there was no getting up again and I ended up having room service (which they said was “no charge” when they delivered it- Zaragoza was turning out to be the opposite of Marseille as far as luck was concerned!). My evening activity was Face-timing with my brother and his family and I swear my nieces and nephews look older in just a month.
So, I grabbed my rain jacket and made the best of the weather by touring the city on foot. I hiked up to a castle on a hill overlooking the city with spectacular (albeit rainy) views. 
I also checked out a few churches, including the main cathedral and learned about Basque history at the San Telmo museum. Unfortinetly many of the displays weren’t translated to English but I got the gist, I think. Speaking of language, while Spanish is obviously the primary language, I learned that about 35% of San Sebastián residents speak Basque and, being very close to France, there’s also a large French speaking population. So, English was usually fourth on the list of languages to be translated. And, I realized that despite taking Spanish to the required “literature level” in college, I know exactly enough to be dangerous. Meaning I can stumble my way through basic dialogue, so people think I actually know the language and respond accordingly- leaving me with absolutely no idea what they said. To avoid that I started just speaking in bad enough Spanish that it was clear an English response would be appreciated.
At first I was concerned how long they had been sitting there but then realized they replenish them pretty frequently and you can also order off the menu for items not displayed or a fresh batch. This was a really fun way to sample a variety of their seafood heavy dishes. I even got into the various ways they serve sardines!
The next day I awoke to my promised sunshiney day! 
I motored my way to the surf shop, excited to reunite with my new favorite sport. Given that the waves were just a liiiitttle bit bigger than in Morocco I figured another lesson was a good idea. Unfortunately the timing of my lesson was when the tide was almost high and there were currents rushing in every which direction. My instructor, Griffin, was not deterred by this and we started with a little refresher on the beach. Interestingly Griffin recommended a completely different way of standing up on the board than the instructors had in Morocco, and had me lay in the board and push myself up so my bad was arched, like the cobra yoga position, and then from there swing my foot around to stand up. This presented a challenge in that my back did not seem to want to bend in that direction. Having had lower back issues in the past I was wary and shared this with Griffin who said it would be easier when in the water. I wasn’t convinced but I figured Griffin knew best and I ventured out to give it a go. I managed to stand up once using Griffin’s “new and improved” method, and given the high tide my surf in was more of a drop into the sand than a graceful coast. I felt a twinge in my back and then a tightness that put off little alarm bells in my head. Everything in me wanted to go back out and keep surfing but in a responsible big girl moment I listened to the little voice saying “this is not a good idea.” Griffin at that point acknowledged that maybe in the future I should stick with the original method I learned in Morocco. Thanks Griff. And, thanks to a very talented massage therapist (who I stiffly meandered to immediately after leaving the surf shop) my back felt a lot better the next day and there seems to be no long-term threat to my future surfing career. All in all my relationship with Surfing has hit a blip but, let’s be honest, our first few dates in Morocco were a little too fairytale for a real relationship. I feel like we’re on a good path now and I can’t wait to get together again!
Next stop…Christopher Columbus’s homeland!
We first gathered in Marrakech where we met each other and our guide, Issmail. I have to say that 
There was also amazing food everywhere you turned with the smells from the delicious spices wafting through the open air. 
We had dinner at a “street stand” which I did not expect to be a sit-down meal, lit by gas laterns. We were served multiple courses that included Morrocan salads, traditional bread, kabobs of deliciously marinated chicken, beef and veggies, and the most delish couscous I’ve ever had. Here are my new friends:
Dinner ended around 10pm and us lame-o’s headed back to the hotel, happily satiated and sleepy, while the activities in the square would go on until the early morning hours. This is because it’s too hot to be romping around outside during the day, so the cooler evening hours is when the action happens. And it’s definitely a lot of action!
The expansive mountain views were breathtaking and the accommodations were rustic and authentic yet very comfortable, with the lodge having been built by locals and all of the rugs, blankets, and tapestries woven by female villagers. 
It also felt a little bit like being in a tree house- and one of the rooms was actually in a tree. Also, the food here was the best of the whole trip (and I had some REALLY good food this trip) and it was made by one women using all local ingredients (really no other options) with the most delicious spices to ever touch my tongue. I was always into spices but this trip has increased my interest to the level of an obsession. The next day we embarked on 10-mile guided hike, through the rolling, rocky peaks and expansive valleys of the Atlas Mountains. 
Our hike culminated at a Muslim shrine, where we enjoyed a packed lunch before heading back via a different and equally beautiful route. The hike was fascinating both to see the varied topography of the mountain range and to get to know my fellow travelers more while chit-chatting during the 7-hour expedition (okay, I admit it- at points we were too tired to muster either a chit or a chat). 
We were pretty famished after the hike and welcomed a dinner of “tangine,” which is a popular Moroccan slow-cooked dish where a crock-pot is replaced with a cone-shaped clay pot and a good old fashioned flame. I’m not a huge carnivore (minus bacon) but I throughly enjoyed the beef tangine that night, that was in the format of meatballs. The vegetarians in our crew also had high praise for the flavorful vegetable and potato tangine. It was extra-cool eating in the traditional style of sitting on the floor in large cushions with our legs crossed. 
The next morning I awoke to the 5:30am call to prayer, bellowing from loudspeakers perched on the top of a nearby mosque. I mentally hit the snooze button and the follow-up alarm (an hour later) was in the form of roosters cockadoodledooing. I have to say, I really liked it as a wake-up mechanism. Maybe a call to prayer followed up by a rooster should be an alarm app? You heard it here first, so don’t steal the idea!
After breakfast we set off to our next destination, the town of Essaouira, which is a smaller city than Marrachech, and more laid back (aka, fewer crazy moto-bike drivers and aggressive vendors). It’s also a beautiful port town and is encompassed by huge fortress walls adorned with cannons. 
We seemed to have brought some rain with us to Essaouira and battled the elements during our walking tour of the city (nothing stops this group I’ll tell ya!). Our tour included a glimpse into woodworking shops producing some of the most beautiful wood pieces I’ve seen- it’s a good thing I have no room in my luggage (btw, I’m reminded of this every time I’ve checked a bag on this trip so far when the person behind the counter looks at me, points to the number on the scale, I shrug and smile abashedly, and he/she winks and lets it slide- so far at least 😌). I also saw the spices and fish markets, where I could have stayed for a while just taking it all in- I really don’t have the words to explain how amazing the spices are (I may have mentioned this already…). 
After dinner our guide led us to a live music venue. A super-fun member of the group, Daisy, had a birthday that night and wanted to bring it in with some dancing! And dancing we did. I’d say our group pretty much dominated the dance floor the entire night and our dancing seemed to get better (but probably got worse) following a round of tequila shots at midnight. Here’s the birthday girl, looking miserable-
The next morning we were a bit sleepy but gamely explored the beautiful port and beach area and then did some shopping. 
Sorry family and friends, I REALLY do not have room in my bags to bring you gifts. Maybe I can find things “Made in Morocco” on Amazon? Stay tuned- all might not be lost in the gift department…
When we arrived at the resort we were happy to be there but also sad that we had to part ways with Issmail- his touring duties were done for this trip. We tried to convince him to stay but he said he had another tour (likely story). Our farewell foto-
We spent the next three days in the luxury of the oceanfront resort relaxing, eating (a lot…more delicious bread and an amazing array of fresh seafood), laughing (also a lot of this), taking in the most beautiful sunsets, yoga classes, AND surfing lessons!! 
So, I am now in-love with Surfing. It’s, like, an official relationship. Surfing toggles between laughing at me when I launch off the board dramatically (goal is to stay on) and giving me a big smooch when I catch a wave and actually stay on. Regardless, I always have fun with Surfing and am saddened that I didn’t meet him until now. Let’s hope it works out in the long-run as I’m clearly all in. Should I be playing it cooler??
Guillaume is French (you may have guessed) and was a host-extraordinaire during my visit. From meeting me inside the train station when I arrived, to dropping me off when I left (at 6:15am and even walked me into the station), to cooking the MOST delectable meals (seriously…I awoke to fresh croissants and coffee, while he was in the kitchen preparing the next meal of fresh pasta and tomatoes- that. he’d gotten at the market that morning!). April was also absolutely incredible, as she ALWAYS is, helping me to wash and dry every single item in my suitcase in HOT water (in a never before used cycle of their fancy washer called “Hygiene”). Each cycle took about 3 hours but I’m not taking any chances with those bed bugs. Thankfully (yes, I’m knocking on wood with both hands right now) there have been no further signs and I’m thinking I left them in Marseille, hopefully to keep my bad luck company. They deserve each other!
I enjoyed touring about the town and the bustling Saturday markets, trying my first escargot (yum!!!), meeting several of their super-cool friends, and going to my first pro rugby match. We crammed a lot in- as one does when you have Super-hosts! Aside from the food (so many delicious things!) the rugby experience was especially amazing- I can’t believe how physical it is and with no helmets or protective gear. I feel like most kids ages 0-10 go through daily life with more bodily protection than these men, who are tackling each other like NFL players! 
On my first day I took an off-the-beaten path hike that my hotel proprietor had recommended (he said it was his favorite). OMG. This 2.5 hour hike between Corniglia and Manrola (towns #2 and #3) was beyond spectacular! It wove through olive trees and vineyards overlooking the sea- it’s even prettier than this in real life. 
While it wasn’t a crowded trail I met a wonderful couple and we hiked the second half together. Andrea and Tim are my kinda people. They hail from Pennsylvania and despite having been married for many years and having two children (their son has hiked the Appalachian trail!) they continue to prioritize “experiences” over “things.” They talked about early in their marriage when their living room was bare so they could travel. And just last year they travelled around New Zealand with their children, in a camper. It sounded phenomenal! 
I treated myself to one delish and semi-fancy dinner while I’m Cinque Terre, 
I couldn’t leave Cinque Terre without a final hike, this one to a sanctuary I’d seen majestically looming above me for days. On the trail I met a woman from Ireland who was traveling by herself for the first time ever. After she recounted a nightmarish travel experience to get there the day before, we stopped for a breather. While drinking water and admiring the view in silence she took a deep breath of the fresh sea-mountain air and said “It’s quite lovely isn’t it?” Although the view was lovely, what she meant was traveling solo. Yes…indeed, it is.
On to Milan! So I do fly by the seat of my pants sometimes but this was extreme (even for me), as I got on a train from Cinque Terre with no confirmed place to stay in Milan. I figured this wouldn’t be a prob and I’d book something on the train. What I did not know is that I was arriving on the first day of the infamous Fashion Week. Ug. I’m not exactly a fashionista (apologies to those asking me to start a travel-fashion blog) and all this meant to me was that it very difficult (and expensive) to find a place to stay for two nights. The Air bnb selection was dwindling and coming off my Marseille experience I wasn’t going to chance it. Especially as I’d awoken every night since that fateful evening dreaming (nightmaring?) about bed bugs crawling on me. I splurged on a Scandinavian hotel where everything was white and I slept like a baby. Only having one full day in the city, I definitely made the most of it. I did a quick morning tour of the main sites and was astounded by the beauty of their downtown monuments and humongous castle, as well as the grandiose Duomo. I hadn’t planned on touring the inside of the Duomo but once I saw the outside I HAD to. How could I not see the inside of something so spectacular?? 
I had thought the beauty in Milan would be focused on the fashion shows, but I was wrong. Although I did see some (less beautiful) evidence of fashion week around the Duomo area.
That afternoon I was aggressive to make my way to Lake Como…but after hearing so much about it, I HAD to! And I’m so glad I did. I took an afternoon train and arrived in time for a 2.5 hour boat ride to Veranna (one of their many beautiful villages). Unfortunately (because I had to catch the train back) I wasn’t able to explore much in the town itself, but feel like I got the gist…enough to need to go back for sure. The lake views literally take your breath away.
I debated getting take-out for dinner and eating in my hotel room (as I had the night before), but decided to take in whatever last breaths of the city I could and ventured to the restaurant across the street from my hotel. While it was not packed, I was not the only solo diner and quickly started conversing with anither woman sitting alone, just two tables down. She joined me and and I loved chatting with her- it really made my night! Her name is Evalein and she’s from Holland and is in Milan to cover Fashion Week for one of the big Dutch dailies, Volkskrant Magazine. I hope we can stay in touch!
We then met our tour group of 12 and our guide, the Incredible Ida. I quickly noted that we had an awesome and geographically diverse group, with peeps from DC, NY, Cali, Kansas, Montreal, London, Oxford, Brisbane, Paris, and Trinidad. It’s amazing how much we all had in common, despite coming from such different places- mostly adventuresome spirits and curious minds. Ida gave us a tour of Zagreb (the rain did not deter us), that culminated with a beer tasting of Croatian brews. Then the real bonding started when the whole crew ventured out to the local “hot spot,” a fantastic bar called Alcatraz. We had a great time dancing to maybe the most eclectic combination of music I’ve ever heard (I’m talking YMCA followed by Rage Against the Machine). By the end of the night it was as if we were all old friends. 
The next morning we checked out the beautiful cathedral in Zagreb and strolled through the bustling market with some of the most beautiful flowers, herb, and fruit selections I’ve ever seen. According to Ida, most Croatians go to the market everyday to get what they need and are loyal to whatever vendors their family has used for years. So, it’s a pretty big deal if someone goes rogue and decides the tomatoes look better at another vendor one day. Then our mini-coach bus arrived and whisked us out of the city. Most of us slept (Alcatraz was exhausting!) and awoke as we rolled up to a charming farmhouse in the mountains. We were greeted by the owners/cheese-makers and were treated to a delectable sampling of their wares, served with crusty bread, olives and, fresh tomatoes. That afternoon we hiked around the Plitvice Lakes National Park, which consists of 16 beautiful turquoise lakes (crystal clear!) that are joined together by tons of beautiful waterfalls.
Our home for the evening was a boutique “etho-lodge” (Croatia’s version of an eco-lodge) that was an expansive property dotted with cabins amongst wilderness views and roaming farm animals (goats and stuff). The lodge also has an obstacle course that reminds me of a wooden version of what you see on American Ninja Warrior (okay, maybe a smidge easier). Of course I HAD to give it a whirl and since nobody would compete against me, I tried to better my own time (when my competitive-side comes out…). Anyways, moving on…
We continued on to Split, which is the second biggest city in Croatia and the main part of the city (and our hotel) was inside the walls of a humungo castle. The castle is a spectacular Roman ruin built in only the 4th century (with marble imported from Greece and Italy and sphinxes sent from Egypt). It’s massive, stunning, and a total labyrinth (I may have gotten lost once or twice…like totally lost). After exploring a bit, we sampled some Croatian wine and enjoyed a dinner of fresh fish (the fish is sooooo good in Croatia). The next morning we boarded a ferry to the island of Hvar, one of Croatia’s many islands, this one being known for olive oil, lavender and partying (it’s apparently the home of the infamous “Yacht Week,” that I may or may not have heard of before). 
In Hvar we first climbed waaay up to the fortress overlooking the island with panoramic views (don’t worry, I took pics with my trusty iPad!). Here it is in the reflection of my shades during my iPad selfie: 
We were then treated to a delicious rooftop dinner (more delectable fresh fish and a seafood starter that included an incredible octopus salad and fish pate). 
We then embarked on a beautiful 30 minute walk along the water to a private beach, where we would be spending the afternoon, having our own beach party. Unfortunately, we never quite made it there as the sun suddenly vanished and increasing winds quickly brought in torrential downpours. I have to say I loved that nobody in our group was deterred by the rain and our spirits remained high as we first sheltered in a waterfront fast-food joint and then spent the next few hours bar-hopping instead (I mean, what else could we do, really?). 
We even picked-up a new friend, solo-traveler Dave, who we met while he was also scrambling for shelter from the rain and he became an honorary member of our group for the afternoon. It turns out that Dave works for Sloane Kettering hospital like Andrew (another member of our group)- it’s amazing how the rain brings people together! 
We then returned to Split where we enjoyed our final meal together as a complete group- six of us were continuing on to Dubrovnik in the morning, via a ferry ride, with amazing views that topped the embassy slideshow.
The proprietor’s husband, Tony, didn’t speak English but was beyond helpful, seeming to sense what we needed at all times (carrying our suitcases, providing an umbrella, even hanging my laundry to dry). One morning, as we were leaving for the day and talking about breakfast, Tony was on a ladder trimming the grapevines that twisted around the trellises and he deftly handed us both delicious bunches of freshly cut grapes that we enjoyed on our walk along the water.
The Old Town area of Dubrovnik is encased by castle walls and that afternoon the skies cleared just as we joined other tourists to walk along the walls admire the panoramic views. 
During this quick transition from rain to sun, I was entertained and impressed when a Chinese tour group walking in front of us never took down their umbrellas and seamlessly shifted to parasol mode! After the walls some of our group went on a “Game of Thrones” tour to all the locations where filming took place, while myself and Nicole (the other non-GOT viewer) did some shopping and managed to find the “Booza bar,” which is located on the rocks overlooking the sea, outside of the castle wall and accessible only through a tiny (and hard to find) passageway through the wall. The views were especially beautiful in the late afternoon light. 
The next morning Kristina and I shared an uber to the airport before we parted ways. As we pulled up to what looked like a building in an office park I said “this is the airport??” Our driver replied “oh shoot, are you flying out of the other airport?” Kristina and I shot each other frantic glances before he started laughing. Those Croatians have a great sense of humor!