Vietnam and Cambodia

I arrived in Hanoi in my usual post-flying-around-the-world state of delusion and jumped right into my next Flash pack tour. I liked our Vietnam guide Hoang Le (he goes by Le) right off the bat. His smile and energy was clearly contagious, even though I was too tired at the time to actually catch it. The group seemed to gel quickly during the initial city-food tour in Hanoi and I was surprised at how many of us knew each other’s names by the end of the night. And, we enjoyed our first sampling of the Vietnamese food that I would soon become obsessed with. I’ve enjoyed a lot (some might say too much) of delicious cuisines during my travels around the world, and while I hate to pick favorites, I will say Vietnamese food is high on the list. It will most definitely be part of my ‘Death Row Meal’ menu, which has undergone several revisions since my travels began. I’m actually thinking a ‘Death Row Buffet’ is probably more efficient at this point!

We spent the next day touring Hanoi, in the morning by bus and the afternoon by bicycle. We first hit up the infamous Ho Chi Mihn’s Mausoleum which was also the site of his pretty phat summer palace. 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.

That afternoon we hopped on some bikes for an off the beaten path tour of Hanoi, cruising through the bustling, moto-bike filled city to get to the peaceful banana groves dotted with clusters of spartan homes. 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!

Our final two stops in Vietnam were Hoi An and Ho Chi Minh City (the city formally known as Saigon). With less structured time in lovely Hoi An we did everything from get clothes made by local tailors (and cheap!) to foot massages (also cheap) to bike tours of local islands. I mean, what’s not to like about this city?? 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.

From a wartime perspective the elaborate tunnel infrastructure was incredible in how extremely strategic and effective it was. They were well-hidden, with ventilation holes disguised in piles of dirt and as an additional security system they were surrounded by well-camouflaged holes in the ground that had deadly traps waiting for the unsuspecting soldier who fell in. And, to further compile the situation, the weather…the day we were there was supposedly “not too bad” weather-wise and we were all flagging from the heat and humidity, after just strolling around for an hour and a half. My heart truly goes out to the soldiers on both sides who endured these conditions (and worse). It was a quiet bus ride after we left the tunnels to drive to the Cambodian border.

Then, horror of horrors, we had to say goodbye to our new BFF, Le! He kindly took us all the way to passport control and made sure we all got through, while doing a very convincing job at acting sad to see us go. He did seem slightly nervous at the prospect of leaving us on our own for a period time, as we had to cross the border solo to meet our Cambodia guide. This required leaving the building, turning left, walking a few hundred meters, and looking for a guy with a Flash pack sign. Apparently the group had not instilled confidence in Le that we were up for this task, as he reminded us several times of where to go and what to look for.

Alas, we made it! Our new guide, Kaesar (not the salad, think Usual Suspects) actually met us halfway with a big smile and shepered us through the process of getting a visa. 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…

We had a heavy next day with a visit to the Genocide museum and one of the many killing fields. We all tried to mentally prepare ourselves as we boarded the bus but soon realized that was pretty impossible to do. The genocide museum was once S21 (Security Prison 21) and served as a prison, interrogation center and extermination camp that held about 1,500 people at a time- including entire families. Prisoners were taken there if the Kmer Rouge they felt they had any valuable information. The judgement on who these people were or what info they had seemed to have been severely misguided and we heard many accounts of prisoners making things up while undergoing brutal torture and interrogations, frequently with their children present. We got to meet three of the survivors of S21, who were fortunate to still be there, hiding, when the Vietnamese overtook the facility in 1979. As difficult as it clearly is for these men to re-live their ordeals while telling them to tourists everyday, they say they want the stories to be told as part of sharing the history- as there aren’t many left to share it. I also suspect there aren’t as lucrative sources of income for these men, who have permanent physical injuries from what they went through and now have families of their own to support. One of the survivors we met is the little boy on the left in this photo, from the day the Vietnamese arrived at S21. 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.”

The killing fields were even more emotionally charged. There was a somber aura around them, but they looked like an unkept golf course with wooden walkways at first…then we realized the large holes in the ground were where the mass burials had been. 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.

Next up…I meander my way back to the U.S. for the holidays, with a few stops on the way…

There’s no place like “home”

Shockingly there were no direct flights from Chile to New Hampshire (my new “home” for the holiday since my parents moved a few months ago). There weren’t even any indirect flights, believe it or not, and I sent my mom a screenshot of Skyscanner’s “no flights found” search results as proof. Naturally, I then decided to go with the cheapest flight that would get me close (Boston), which included a 7 hour layover in Lima. The Lima airport was not my jam so I busted out to explore the city a bit. 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.

My dad gamely picked me up at the airport and we spent the drive to NH catching up- so much to catch up on between their move and my travels! When I got “home” my mom was clearly in her glory, having all five grandchildren and three “children” under one roof, their new roof. [Sidenote: do I call my parent’s new house “home?” It is not my home and has never been my home, so I guess not?] Here are the wild n’ crazy kiddos: 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!).

So, my bedroom at my parent’s place involved a super comfy Murphy Bed. And I loved it…until I woke up at 7am the next morning to my eight year-old nephew, Jack, trying to close the bed with me sleeping in it! He was not successful and it was actually very funny. I spent the next few days enjoying the beauty of New Hampshire and QT with the fam. This included many hikes, delicious meals (thanks, Mumsie!), games of Aggrevation (the trendy game for the 4-8 year old cohort apparently…and it’s truly aggravating!), and many, many laughs. 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!

So, back to apple pies…we’ve been doing this for about 20 years now, believe it or not (yes, of course this means we started at age 10). The baking has taken many forms, from during winter break when in college and catching up on our antics while cutting apples, to having little kiddos eager to help. Here’s Navigator Felix putting some finishing touches on the pie- he’s a man of many talents. 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).

Fast-forward to the eating of the pie, which happened on Thanksgiving Day, following a delicious meal at my Aunt Lindi’s house (another New Hampshire transplant). Here’s Hugo, Nan and my Dad watching some pre-dinner football. Hugie was especially into it (for about five minutes). 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 journey started out with some “excitement” when I went to check in and the ticket agent asked for my visa. Um…visa? Did I need one of those? The answer was yes. Whoops. The ticket agent asked if I was just going to go home and I said I was going to try to figure it out. But before doing that I posted this to my Instagram story (priorities!) 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.

I’m currently on my third flight of my 30+ hour journey to Vietnam, currently headed from Bangkok to Hanoi. There’s a 12-hour time difference from New Hampshire, so my body isn’t quite sure what is going on, but is definitely wanting more sleep. I think I’ll do that now. Can’t be tired starting a new adventure!

Chillin’ in Chile

Before jetting off to the Southern Hemisphere on my next adventure I actually had a few days in DC. My days consisted of opening much mail, unpacking, doing much laundry, re-packing, trick or treating with my nieces and nephew, catching up with friends (via two dinners, one lunch, a happy hour, and one play (Mean Girls- I highly recommend), and one dentist appointment (no cavities!). 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.)

Next stop- South America! Specifically Chile, which I didn’t realize is quite as far south in South America as it is. I discovered this during my nearly 24 hour journey to get there. I will say that my travel time was not helped by my willingness to sacrifice travel time for price. I feel guilty doing anything else, since I do have a lot of time these days due to the whole not working thing…

Yes, I was going on another Flash Pack tour. Yes, this would be my fifth tour with my favorite (and only) tour company. If they were a publicly traded company I would definitely request some shares in return for my loyalty. And even though I’ve been psyched for every trip, I was extra-excited for this one. So, one day while planning my travels I asked a question via the online chat on the Flash Pack website. It must have been 9 or 10pm in the U.K. (where Flash Pack is based) and as luck would have it the co-founder of Flash Pack, Radha, was online and answered my chat. Of course she had heard of her MVC (Most Valuable Customer- this is a self-proclaimed title, as I actually have no idea) and she even follows my blog! We connected by phone and Radha marveled at the fact that the first online sales chat she had answered personally in a while was from ME (she has a whole team that usually does that stuff as she’s busy, ya know, running the business and all). What are the odds?! It was like it was meant to be! Anyways, we had a great chat and during the course of the convo I asked about the Chile trip. Well, it turns out Radha had actually personally planned the trip and thought I would really love it, as it’s jam-packed with activities. I guess she knows my travel style by now 🙂 Thank you Radha! You did not lead me astray.

Fast forward to my zombie-like arrival in Santiago. Twenty four hours of travel and not a lot of sleep will do that to you, I guess. The first evening was a bit of a blur as I met the 12 members of my travel group and our guide, Felipe. The group was (once again) great and it was fascinating to learn more about my travel-mates as the days went on. Our crew included a neurophysician, nurse, pharmacist, and dentist, so we were well covered for any sort of medical emergency. We also had an architect, two lawyers, an environmental NGO fundraiser, an accountant, the GM of a laundry company, an HR specialist, and (my personal favorite) “Tina the Aussie Entrepreneur,” who owns a super-successful pho restaurant in Sidney (Bar Pho- check it out next time you’re Down Under). Of course also included in the group is the traveling unemployed person, which makes introductions for me much more fun than having to explain a job. From that night I also vaguely remember a delicious dinner and being very exited to go to bed.

The next morning we were up and at ’em, boarding a bus to take us to the oceanfront town of Valparaiso, which actually has similarities to San Francisco with it’s hilly topography and expansive water views. 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!).

Next stop was was the Bodega winery where we got a tour of the vineyard and winery and then enjoyed a tasting of four varietals at an expansive banquet table in the wine cellar. 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).

In the AM we boarded the first of five domestic flights that we would take throughout the course of the trip. Who knew Chile was big enough to fly that much?! And while it was a lot of flying, it was SO worth it to see so much of the country and such different landscapes…keep reading.

Our first destination was the desert. Yes, Chile has a dessert! It was news to me too. [Sidenote: you may have noticed that I often am surprised about the places I’m going and the things I’m doing on my Flash Pack tours. This is true and my tourmates are consistently both amused and amazed by how little I know about the itinerary. I quite like it, as most days hold an amazing surprise!!]

So, we made it to the Atacama Desert and settled into our hotel before meandering to the town for a fab dinner at a restaurant chosen by Filipe. We liked it so much that we ate there again on the third night! It had an open fire pit in the middle and live music that made the ambiance almost as enticing as the food.

The next day we rose early and the group split up for a morning activity of either a hike with amazing scenery or a horseback ride with amazing scenery. Tough life choices. I embarked on the ride (so lazy of me) and had a great time. We plodded/trotted through a mountain pass and enjoyed spectacular views.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.

No rest for the weary as the next morning we were on the road early- like the 5am kinda early- and we drove to see a ton of geysers, in the morning light where you can actually see them! While it was an early bell, it was another “Am I really here? Is this really happening??” experience and we took our time enjoying the views. 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).

In between the breathtaking hikes we had a full-day whitewater rafting adventure on the Petrohue river, which was even more exciting because of the recent rainfall that had created super-high water levels. These were REAL rapids and the kind that don’t have breaks of flat water in between. Our two boats navigated the rapids masterfully (maybe the guide’s helped a smidge) and we managed to not tip over. If you saw these rapids you’d understand why this was such a feat. 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 the evening after rafting we enjoyed the outdoor hot tubs at the hotel, which required three hours notice to reserve so they could heat them up…using only fire! No electricity whatsoever. 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.

The next day included more air travel…waaay down south, like near Antarctica. I did look into actually hitting up Antarctica on my travels but the only way seems to be a cruise that is outside of the Teha’s Travels budget. Oh well…at least I’m pretty close? Probably not the mindset of Magellan and Columbus, but keep in mind that they had outside funding. We arrived in Patagonia (like the clothing brand) to some amazeballs mountain views…the bar for mountain views went higher at every stop, even when it seemed impossible! Our hotel for the evening featured an incredible panoramic from the lobby and all the rooms. 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.

Anyways, back to the glaciers, we swung by an island for a delicious salmon lunch overlooking the glacier and afterwards suited up in fabulous orange outfits to board a small speed boat that took us on an exhilarating ride, eventually dropping us at our remote waterfront home for the next two nights. We had waaay too much fun in the orange outfits.

Okay, now this place was really, really, really incredible in the views department. The best. I honestly can’t really describe what we saw from outside the lobby- see for yourself.

We were all excited the next day for a trekking excursion in Torres Del Paine National Park, during which we would hike 11km (~8 miles) up to the Base Las Torres viewpoint, and back. I’m not going to lie, it was not an easy-peasy hike but it was a blast! We trekked through lush, tree-filled forests and navigated steep rocky inclines, while crossing several windy rivers. 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.

We awoke early the next day for a travel day back to Santiago, but were rewarded with a Patagonian farewell in the form of a sunrise for the record books. Honestly….

That night in Santiago was our last together as a full group, as the tour officially ended the next morning. Sad! We enjoyed a final meal at a restaurant that specializes in pisco. Seriously, the menu of different piscos is 5x longer than the food menu! As I looked around the table that night I thought about how much I had gotten to know each of the amazing individuals on the trip and how fast the time had flown by. 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!

I’m now on another epic journey, this time back to los Estados Unidos, and I find myself feeling nostalgic as I write this blog. I feel so incredibly lucky to have been able to explore spectacular Chile, and with such amazing weather and such amazing people. Our group’s What’s App chain is now exploding with messages from forlorn group members as they arrive home, sending pictures of snow and grey skies, and saying how odd it feels to be alone. Except for Martin, who stopped in Rio on his way back to the U.K., and does not seem to be having a horrible time.

India & Nepal unfiltered

Wow, it’s been two whole months and I’m finally back in DC for a smidge! What an adventure the past two months have been- here’s the before and after pics. I’m more tired than I look in the after shot, trust me.  img_6386

Now for the last trip of the junket…India and Nepal (there’s something to be said for that saving best for last theory)! I embarked on a Flashpack (of course) adventure to India and Nepal, half-expecting the music of Slum Dog Millionaire to be on replay in the background. I later learned that the movie is depicting life in India over 30 years ago and, thankfully, much has changed since then, although the country is still  undergoing a slow cultural shift that is being both guardedly embraced and at times outright rejected. This was explained to our group of 13 by our India guide, Nitin (he said we could call him anything close so I went with Nathan, as he continued to pronounce my name Tee-a).

Nitin was yet another knowledgable and patient Flash Pack guide, with the not-so-easy task of touting 13 British, Scottish, Irish, Australian, and American tourists around his home country. Our group first met and endured the inevitable quasi-awkward intros, as we all later admitted…I mean, we’d be spending TWO WEEKS with these strangers. And, of course, two weeks later we were friends, the kind of friends who finish each other’s sentences, know each other’s nuances, only speak in inside jokes, and authentically miss each other (well, that’s how I feel at least. One of the ‘inside jokes’ was the frequency with with I chat away (aka share valuable information) so others in the group may be grateful for some peace and quiet). It’s really an amazing sociological experiment to watch the dynamics of the group unfold and now that I’ve completed my fourth tour of this sort, I’m going to go out on a limb and declare there is a pattern- and that it’s a ton of fun to experience. It’s amazing how close like-minded strangers can become in just two weeks!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. img_4085img_4157After 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. img_6021While 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.img_4114

We then swung by a Sikh temple, Gurudwara Bangla Sahib, and learned more about the religion, which is the youngest of major world religions and has distinct beliefs that vary from Hinduism. We spent some time in the beautifully adorned temple listening to the music that is played for 18 hours a day, while the Sikh prayer book is on display. The book is taken away between the hours of 10pm to 4am, during which the musicians can take a breather.

We also viewed the “dining room” where many sat in perfect rows on the floor eating delicious looking Indian meals that are provided for free to anyone who comes, regardless of their background or religion. Many Sieks will grab a bite while at the temple for their daily or weekly worship and even visitors are invited to partake. We were full from lunch but did get to help rolling the dough for the bread and even got suckered into dishes duty for a bit. 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.img_4530img_4580As 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.img_4647So, 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.

The night before seeing the Taj live and in-person the group opted to go to a musical performance that depicted the Wonder’s history. It was very colorful with lots of dancing, and also extremely cheesy- to the point it became extremely entertaining. 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 then had another “bus bonding opportunity” heading back to Delhi to complete the triangle. Look at how much fun we had on the bus!We jumped right into a rickshaw street food tour of our favorite hood…Old Delhi!

I really could not get enough of the flavorful food in India and I even got into having curry for breakfast most days! During our street food tour Old Delhi was even more lively than our previous walking tour as the city was decked to the nines with decorations and lights in celebration of Dwali. So, Dwali is India’s annual “festival of lights” that symbolizes light over darkness, good over evil, hope over despair and knowledge over ignorance. So, all things worth celebrating! It’s truly a spectacular showcase during which lights, flags, decorations, and music are in abundance with and there’s dancing in the streets in the evenings. It was so lucky for us to be there for this special celebration, and it even continued in Nepal (by that time we were old pros at this Dwali thing). 
Our group then said our goodbyes to “Nathan” and boarded a plane for Nepal, excited for phase 2 of our adventure. We met our super-awesome Nepalese guide, Amar, in Katmandu and hopped a quick flight to the town of Pokhara. The plane was definitely the smallest commercial plane I’ve ever flown on and in my last row seat (next to the jump seat) I had some quality time with the flight attendant, who patiently answered my many questions. She said that sometimes you can see Mt. Everest from the flight, but while conditions didn’t cooperate during ours, we were treated to stunning views of non-Everest Himalayan mountains. Here’s Amar making sure we all got on the plane okay: 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??)

img_5500During 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.img_5537 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!) 

Dancing and laughing with locals in a tiny mountain town while the rain came down in sheets ranks up there as a pretty special memory in the good old memory bank- one I will definitely never forget.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. img_5526The 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.img_20171022_123257Still 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.

img_5668img_5672Our 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.
Then we had our final dinner, which was also birthday celebration for a member of our group, Kat. A good time was had by all! 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.

As I reflect on the trip I think back to our stay in the mountain lodge, where we were lucky to have views of a late-night meteor shower. That night, as I gazed at the immense star-filled sky I had a hard time picking out the constellations that I can usually recognize, as the patterns were different from the other side of the world. The moon looked same, though, and remained steadfast. Since that night, every time I looked at the night sky from the other side of the world I was reminded of both the differences and commonalities that span the earth and make it such a beautiful place… and especially what a difference your perspective makes.

The Traveling Trio does Portugal

I had a blast in Portugal for five days, with the “traveling trio.” By means of introduction (settle in for a paragraph) I’ve been part of a “cooking club” in DC for the past 11 or so years (minus a brief hiatus when I was working full-time while in grad school). CC includes a group of approx 8-10 of us who get together monthly, and the person hosting chooses the theme/menu and sends links to recipes for the various dishes (that’s how it works now but for a long time it was typing out the recipes from cookbooks). Everyone chooses a dish from the list and brings it to to the host’s home, where we do whatever final prep is needed before enjoying the meal. The matriarch of the CC, Becky Brown (she has a great blog called My Utensil Crock) is good at keeping us on-task so we spend a few minutes talking about what we made, how/the recipe worked, what we did to modify the dish, or what ingredients we didn’t have and had to toss in a substitute or maybe just leave it out altogether (usually that’s me). Then we move on to discussions ranging from celebrity gossip to solving the world’s problems. I bring this up because last year i teamed up with two of my CC friends (also not married and adventuresome) to take a trip together to Iceland. We had a fabulous time- I highly recommend Iceland, btw. And we deemed ourselves the “Traveling Trio” and had an interim domestic trip to Chicago before planning an extended Columbus Day weekend trip to Portugal. Then,Teha’s Travels took shape and it worked out perfectly for me to meet Page and Jenny in Portugal in between other adventures. Here we are first reunited (minus my left eye- no selfie stick on this trip):

You should also know that Page is a travel planner extraordinaire, with Jenny a close runner-up. This is excellent for me as I don’t need to do anything in prep for the trips. Page makes (and even prints out) itineraries, that I consistently lose my copy of. Good thing she has back-ups! The best part is that the duo of my trio is also super-fun and very flexible. So even the stuff on the hard copy printed itineraries are subject to change (and often are) based on whatever we feel like doing at any given moment.

We met up in Porto and settled into our home for two nights, “Top Flat,” which was true to it’s name. Porto is a gorgeous city on the water (most predominantly the river) and the Top Flat offered THE most amazing view.

We embarked on a great free walking tour of Porto and learned the history behind the fortress walls, stunning cathedral, and the old train station that is adorned with over 30,000 tiles. 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.

We then ventured on to Lisbon, and started our first full day with an excellent food tour of the city. The food was delectable but the historical info and entertaining nuggets really made it stand-out. 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!

That night after dinner we realized the Washington Nats (vs. Cubbies) play-off game was taking place and wondered if we could find an establishment with a cable dish who would put it on. Some googling led us to an Irish bar where we quickly discovered there was no chance of seeing the game. The bar was full of Swiss futbol fans getting amped up for a match the following night against Portugal. 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!

The next day was a big one for Jenny and I as we first trained it 30 minutes, to a town called Sintra for a day of site-seeing (poor Page hadn’t moved from bed, and was really loving being completely incapacitated in a foreign country). 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).

We rushed back to Portugal and made sure Page was stocked up on water and meds before metroing to the game. Thankfully our seats were not with the Swiss so we could cheer for the home team (yes, I also felt a smidge guilty about this but there was no Swiss gear for sale on the street and one must have gear for a match like this!) 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!

The next day Jenny and poor Page headed black stateside (yes she still felt like crap and had to take a long flight). I took a quick flight to Madrid where I’d spend a night before my red-eye flight (yes, another Flash Pack tour!) I’d been to Madrid for the Vespa tour I took in July but didn’t spend much time in the actual city and was excited to see more. That night I met up with Javier, the amazing guide of the Vespa tour. He went above and beyond in his duties by not only returning a phone charger I’d left at a hotel during the tour, but also giving me an evening walking tour of the city (I told you he’s amazing!). 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.]

Stay tuned for adventures on the third continent of the trip…India!

5 days in Spain 🇪🇸

I left the magic of Morocco with 5 days to kill before meeting friends in Portugal, and boarded a flight to Madrid. I chose Madrid because Google Flights said it was the cheapest ticket that would take me back to Europe (and even close to Portugal, as a bonus!) Plus I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Spain the last time I was there and knew there was so much more of it to explore. So far I’d ride a Vespa on the mountains north of Madrid, and toured Barcelona, Mallorca, and Granada. This time I decided to head north, with my ultimate destination the glistening waters of San Sebastián. It’s about a five hour train ride from Madrid to San Sebastián so I decided to break it up a bit and explore somewhere in between. I chose a town called Zaragoza, because a waiter in Venice had been there and liked it. Really that is the only reason but it seemed like a good enough one as any! It was a bonus that lodging was extremely cost-efficient in Zaragoza and I got a hotel that was right next to the train station for only 50 euro. The hotel also met my newly established requirement of having white bedding (a new requirement since the Marseilles bed bug incident at least).

I arrived and ventured out to a restaurant that was raved about on Trip Advisor, despite the reviews saying you need a rezzie and I had not planned ahead enough to procure one (shocking, I know). Miraculously there was a lovely table that was reserved for 11pm but since I was there at the early Spanish dinner hour of 9pm, I was able to snag it for an early bird special. It was a lovely meal and the wait staff was super-friendly and even gave me some special tastings. 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!

The next day I took off to see the city…and over ten miles of walking later, see it I did. My day started with a good old fashioned protest, as the elections for Catalonia’s independence from Spain was that day. I had heard about this is Barcelona where the Cantalonian flag was proudly displayed on balconies through the city. Zaragoza, however, is not in Cantalonia and is not so fond of a portion of their country separating. Thankfully this was a very peaceful and prideful protest (this was also before I knew there had been violence in other parts of the country). 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.

The next day when I checked out, the young lady at the front desk asked where I was headed next and she said San Sebastián is one of her favorite places but too bad it was raining there. This did not compute because the Apple weather app had a full sun ☀️ (not even one cloud) for the entire day. I incorrectly assumed that she was mistaken, not the app (you’d think after all the issues I’ve had with Apple this trip I wouldn’t be giving their app the benefit of the doubt!). I arrived in rainy San Sebastián, and was told by the hotel that it might be sunny the day after tomorrow but rain until then. The weather app had blazing sun for all three days I was there. One guess on which forecast was correct…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.

Also of note, in San Sebastián is the food scene- most places serve a variety of “pinxtos” which are a variety of tapas-like snacks that are on display in their counter. 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!

I was treated to a beautiful sunset my last night in San Sebastián and it was almost like the rain never happened.Next stop…Christopher Columbus’s homeland!

Magical Morocco 🇲🇦

I arrived in Morocco with Paul Simon’s “Under African Skies” going through my head (on repeat), and hoping I’d like the twelve strangers I’d be spending the next 9 days with. I worried that maybe I’d just lucked out on my first two Flashpack trips (to Spain and Croatia) and figured I was bound to get a bad (aka boring) group this time. And this trip was longer…9 days is a long time! Fast-forward to when the group said our farewells yesterday, all of us sad that the magic of our trip was ending. Yet, with information exchanged and social media profiles linked, we parted ways to our various countries around the world- many of us vowing to meet up again. We also agreed that 9 days definitely did not feel like a long time.We first gathered in Marrakech where we met each other and our guide, Issmail. I have to say that Flashpack rocks at selecting guides for their trips, as on all three of my trips they have been both incredibly knowledgeable and super-fun! I also want to point out that when asked (maybe by me) all three of my guides said we were “one of the best groups ever.” Obviously that’s just guide etiquette and they aren’t supposed to say that we are actually THE best group ever, because how could my awesome groups not be?

Anyways, the Morocco group had quick intros, after which I remembered ~ 4 names (and proceeded to call Brian “Eric” for the first three days…sorry again about that Bri!). Our first order of business was a walking tour of Marrakech. Although Issmail was our main squeeze, as far as guides go, Moroccan law requires separate licensed tour guides in each location. Our Marrakech guide led us through the crowded streets to a tea house where we had our first taste of traditional Morrocan mint tea (that we happily drank at least twice daily for the next 8 days). I noticed that there were only men at the tea house, as Moroccan women traditionally aren’t encouraged to go (boo!!!). Apparently Moroccan tea first became a “thing” to replace drinking whiskey back in the day and we were slightly horrified to learn that (while you can sweeten the tea as you like) most Moroccans use three huge hunks of sugar in each small pot. I’m talking HUGE hunks- it has to be at least 1/4 a cup! Refined sugar is clearly not a concern in Morocco. My group opted for a slightly less sweet version and it was delish! We then continued our walking tour, that culminated at the Jenna el Fna, a ginormous center square that I can best describe as a cross between a massive carnival and a farmers market. Soooo many unbelievable sites and smells to take in, including snake charmers, acrobats and even tooth-pullers (as an aside, my nephew, Jack, coulda used one of those on the front tooth he’s been working on for weeks- thankfully he succeeded just the other day, sans Moroccan tooth-pullers).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!

In the AM, we were escorted to a traditional Moroccan hammam, which I had never heard of before (I clearly only skimmed the trip itinerary, assuming anything we did in Morocco would be amazing- I was correct, btw). So, a hammam is like a spa but offers a traditional treatment that many Moroccans get once a week, often with friends. First the gals and guys in our group were separated and we began the experience with some mint tea. There was no time for modesty with new friends as we were then handed paper underwear (more like paper thongs) and told to sit in a warmish room that looked like a sauna. We were each rinsed with buckets full of cool water and then moved to a warmer room, where we had room-temp water poured on us and soap applied, followed by a rinse of warm water. We then paraded into a hot room, where thick olive paste was applied to each of us and then victoriously scrubbed off, power-loofah style. The experience concluded with a lovely, moisturizing massage and then more Moroccan tea on a roof-top terrace.

It was an amazing experience and afterwards my skin felt almost as soft as Barbara Bush’s. This means a lot, as I shook Bab’s hand (then the First Lady) during my 8th grade trip to D.C. and she had the softest skin I’ve felt in my life. I wish I’d thought to ask about her skin care routine at the time. Now I know it must have involved a hammam and I’m pretty sure they have one in the White House. Shhh…

Anyways, next we had our first group road-trip, WAY up the Atlas Mountains to Douar Samra, that was our home for 3 days. I cannot speak highly enough about this joint!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!

Anyways, after our final scrumpshish meal, we boarded 4×4’s and ventured onward…to the desert (only one s in desert, two s’s in dessert like strawberry shortcake- I keep going through that in my head when I type the word). I was curious about the accommodations that were described as “glamping.” It was my first time doing whatever glamping is. Yes, there was no electricity in our tents but there were beds…and that seemed like a fair non-camping trade-off. I actually really enjoyed living by candlelight! The camp scenery was astounding and I felt like my camera disappointed me by not capturing the vastness of the landscape. We embarked on a fantastic sunset camel ride (that included much laughter by both us and the camels), enjoyed another yummy tangine dinner, and relaxed while chatting around a campfire before returning to our glamping domiciles.

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…

So, then we were off to our final destination, three hours away- a yoga/surf resort in Agadir. On the way we drove by some goats in trees, because apparently that’s what they do here sometimes…so of course we had to stop. 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??

This trip has been one of the best I’ve had and mostly because of the beautiful country and kind people. I loved learning more about the Moroccan culture and seeing the Muslim religion in practice. I also know that Morocco is a small and unique part of it’s vast continent and at some point I’d love to see more of the African skies. Great, now Paul Simon is stuck in my head again…

So much to fill you in on!

I left you in Marseille and, thankfully, I seem to have left my bad luck there as well. In fact, just a few hours after blogging about my current lack of sunshine and rainbows I saw THIS from the window of the train to Dijon.

A rainbow! And sunshine! I silently thanked the universe. I spent a restorative weekend visiting my friends, April and Guillaume, who I met in DC and relocated to Dijon about a year ago. 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!

My weekend in Dijon gets 5+ stars, thanks to April and G. What a beautiful and quaint town they live in and their place is just steps from the beautiful Notre Dame cathedral. Here I am rubbing a sculptured knob on the cathedral wall that’s supposed to bring good luck (as if I need it!). 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!

My experience was enhanced by the fact one of their friends, Tom, is a professional rugby coach and the game we saw included the team he used to coach. Tom was patient in explaining the rules and announcing the game for us- which was SUPER close and sadly ended with a buzzer beating win for the other team. Oh well! The previously exuberant fans and players both seemed to recover pretty quickly while enjoying beers after the game.

It took four trains (five if you include a tram), a plane, and an automobile to travel from Dijon to my next destination, Cinque Terre. This local had been highly recommended by a few friends whose travel opinions I trust (thank you Josie and Kate!). It was so worth the long journey, as the beauty of this coastline is unlike anything I’ve seen before. And the hiking…don’t even get me started. So, Cinque Terre consists of and 10,000 acres of national park, a rugged coastline (along the bluest Mediterranean you can imagine), and hiking trails connecting five picturesque towns, that are tucked away like puzzle pieces into the cliffs. 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, at a place I had read about in the NYT called Rio Bistrot. It was so worth it and I had the best sea bass ever (to date) as part of a tasting menu.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!

Evalein told me that most people in Milan right now are here for Fashion Week and this was confirmed when I realized the tall, young blonde women next to me getting scrambled eggs at the hotel breaky buffet were Fashion Week models and not members of a Scandinavian volleyball team (that had been my theory the previous morning). I sat next to a few of them this morning and they were so sweet as they talked about their head being sore from a headdress they had to wear yesterday and how they were 30 min late for their fitting-time but didn’t care as “a girl has to eat.” I was so proud and told them so! They were off to model at Fendi, Gucci, and Dolce Gabana shows today. They were glad that one of those brands (can’t remember which) wasn’t using “celebrity models” anymore and went back to the pros like them.

This has been a lot for one blog but the past week has been a lot, in a very good way! It felt like it was a reward from the universe.

Just landed in Morocco…excited to break ground on a new continent!

Introducing…Croatia!

As promised, here’s a delayed account of my trip to Croatia. Thanks to my tour-mates for sending me some pictures, as Apple is still holding mine hostage in the cloud (and I’m still holding out hope that one day I can negotiate a release…maybe when the political climate changes).

So, Croatia was never even on my radar until a few years ago when I went to an event at the Croatian embassy with my friend, Kate, who had travelled there and fallen in love with the country (Kate was on the cutting edge of the travel trend as I’ve known several people who have been there since). The event included a looping slideshow of pics and I watched it go through more than once, mesmerized by the beauty of the scenery. At the time I mentally added it to the running list of places I wanted to see “someday”…maybe when work wasn’t so busy.

When Teha’s Travels took shape and I saw that my favorite tour company, Flashpack, had a Croatia adventure; it was a no-brainer. Kristina and I travelled from Venice to Croatia together (you may recall we met on our Flashpack Vespa tour in Spain and ended up both signing up for the Croatian trip- thinking it was different dates but it turned out to be the same trip- yay!) Our adventure began in the city of Zagreb, which is Croatia’s biggest city, but still full of charm. Thankfully amongst the charm it also has an H&M, as both of us were thoroughly unprepared for weather that required anything warmer than a sundress and light cardigan. It was chilly and rainy when we arrived and we might have gone overboard with the winter hats…better safe than sorry!

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…

The next morning we enjoyed a delicious breakfast buffet that included traditional breaky items but also some Croatian dishes, such as tuna and pinto beans. I have to say it was actually a pretty good combination! We then embarked on a “kayaking safari,” that we were all looking forward to and did not disappoint! Our fearless guide Marco (our ‘Polo’ refrain throughout the trip probably did get a little old) led us down the beautiful Mreznica river, with some stops along the way. Our first sa beautiful waterfall with three places you could cliff-jump, ranging between 20-30 feet. Yes, that is high. And awesome. And high. We found that jumping without thinking or looking down was advisable, as to avoid the instinctive response that was along the lines of “SHIT! Why am I doing this???” We all did it though (!!) and I took super-cool Boomerang videos of some of the jumps- you’ll have to take my word for it. The rest of the adventure included gorgeous river views and several 10-15 foot drops that Marco deftly helped us navigate. The trip ended with Kristina and I making the ultimate sacrificial gesture to the River Gods…our iPhones. En route to our next destination the bus driver kindly stopped so we could buy rice (NO, the rice didn’t work. Does the river ever work?? I feel like everyone knows someone, who knows someone for whom the the rice worked but I still suspect it’s all a crafty marketing scheme by Uncle Ben and his relatives). 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.

In Dubrovnik, Kristina and I stayed in an Air bnb that I had booked originally just for myself, before Kristina had signed up for the trip. Upon arrival we saw it would have been fine for one person but two was just a liiittttle bit tight. The views made up for it though (in my opinion, not sure how Kristina feels about that) and we got a laugh out of the One Direction sheets on the bed (c’mon you don’t see those everyday!). And, no, these were not the sheets with bed bugs. 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.

We battled some rain that day, that came and went with equal intensity. Our tram ride to the highest point of the city did not include the views it advertises, although I still took out the good ole’ iPad to take a photo. At the top we at least had some shelter inside the museum of the Croatian War of Independence, which took place from 1991-1995. What an incredible museum! The main exhibit featured Dubrovnik, as the city had essentially been targeted and consistently attacked during the war causing death and devastation of an incredible magnitude. I learned that during the war the Serbs had targeted the city of Dubrovnik, but not for any strategic advantage. The goal was only to damage the “heart of Croatia” and therefore the spirit of the nation. Sadly, the rest of Europe was not all that helpful to the country (which barely had an army and could have used the assistance- I think the exhibit said they had only one gun with a periscope!) and due to their lack of support the war is now seen as a black mark in European history. Thankfully, we’d learned in advance from Ida that the war is not something to be openly discussed with Croatians, and especially in Dubrovnik where the wounds are still fresh and very close to home to the residents (literally and figuratively). I have to say I was beyond impressed with the resilience of the city and all they have rebuilt after such incredible devastation; they now have a thriving tourist industry…as if nothing had ever happened. Yes, Dubrovnik lost a LOT in the early 90s but, amazingly, never lost it’s heart and soul. This really speaks to the strength of the people and the country. 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!

All in all, it was another brilliant Flashpack adventure (I’m practicing my British) and my first foray to the untouched beauty of Eastern Europe, rain clouds and all. I definitely hope to be back!

When it rains it pours

Programming note: Due to unforeseen circumstances this is an out-of-order post. Yes, I promised to write about my time in Croatia last week, but I need photos of the trip to do it justice. And, since I no longer have any of my own photos (more on that below) waiting on friends from the trip to send me a sampling of theirs. So, thank you for your patience-Croatia is forthcoming! I swear.

Sometimes I wonder if my blog makes my travels seem “Facebook perfect,” as if everything is sunshine and rainbows. Obviously this is not the case (def not all sunshine, as you’ll learn in my future Croatia post). I do try to keep it real, but, honestly, until now, I really haven’t had much to complain about. Ready to hear me complain? It’s time. Buckle up.

I seem to have stumbled upon a bad luck streak. It started when I was locked out of my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but bear with me. I was on an amazing kayak-adventure trip in Croatia (teaser for the Croatia blog!) and was sharing a kayak with my travel buddy, Kristina. Both of our phones were in a dry-bag, that was working perfectly…until it wasn’t anymore. Yes, we lugged around bags of rice for 48 hours, which did nothing to change the situation (I’m convinced the whole rice thing is a marketing ploy by Uncle Ben or one of his rich pilaf relatives). Then we had to face the sad reality. RIP iPhones.

Thankfully I have my trusty ipad (I think it’s version 1.0) that I have used maybe 25 times ever. When I logged in two days ago, I was asked to provide my Apple ID password. I had thumbprint recognition on my iPhone so haven’t had to type in my password in a good while and actually have NO idea what it is. I tried to re-set it and was asked to verify my phone number (seems easy enough and they even provided the last two digits). But I typed in number and was informed that it is not my number. But it IS my number. But it’s NOT your number (Apple and I have since had extensive back and forths on this point- more on that later). Without being able to sign in, while on WiFi I can access Gmail and old versions of Instagram and Facebook (as updating any apps requires the password). Not ideal, but I could handle it for a few days. And at the time, in Croatia, there was not much I could do about it anyways, so I decided I’d deal with it on the next leg of my journey, in Marseille. (Pictures upload really small from the iPad I’m using, sorry!)

When I arrived in Marseille, I felt like my luck had to improve! I was wrong. From the airport, I followed the Amazing Race instructions from my Air bnb host and took a bus from the airport to the train station and then took the metro to the port and then walked 1/2 mile, to meet him at his work. I was so proud of figuring all of this out, especially without having access Google Maps or having any way to communicate (including talking as I realized very few people spoke English and my French is limited to Bonjour, cava, and croissant). I was also proud that I’d lugged my suitcase pretty far by this point, including up and down several flights of stairs. I met Host at his office and I learned that he manages 30 Air bnb apartments around the city. He apologized that he couldn’t take me to my apartment, as he was swamped with many arrivals, but he gave me the key and said it was an easy walk. Okay…here we go….easy walk…

The directions seemed kinda long, but I figured it would be a hop skip and a jump, as Host had seen me and my big suitcase. Not so much. There was no time to dwell on it at the time as I was busy lugging my suitcase up FIVE sets of stairs. And we’re not talking just a few steps per set. I looked like I’d just finished a 10k by the time I got to the building, which is apparently at the highest point of Marseille. To top it off, to get to the unit I then had to walk DOWN two sets of the windy-it’s, most narrow stair cases I’ve ever seen. They were so narrow that my suitcase got stuck at one point. Here’s a sampling of the stairs:

But, I made it!! And I was rewarded with a very nice and clean-looking apartment with a charming balcony view. Things were finally looking up!

I then trekked to the Apple Store to sort out my phone/iCloud situation, as it was increasingly challenging to be off the grid while traveling internationally. I found an English-speaking Apple employee, who was stumped and connected me with the support center on her phone. My case was escalated, twice, to the Senior Support Specialist. Following an hour and 17 minute conversation, I was informed that there is absolutely nothing they can do. She suspects I mis-entered my phone number when I originally set up the account and the only think I can do is try entering every possible variation of my phone number (I can try this five times every eight hours, so my back of the napkin math puts my estimated date of completion at around 2043). At the end of the conversation Senior Support Specialist said “I’m amazed at how calm you sound. I would be a complete wreck if I were in your situation.” That did not make me feel better. In fact, the only thing that kept me from losing it at that moment was the amazing view from their Apple Store. It really is lovely! The stumped technician (note the view): 

More views from the deck outside the Apple Store, as I was there so long it got dark (I’m not smiling quite as big inside):

The harsh reality is (you may have seen things going this way) that without my iCloud password I can’t access much of anything (or actually anything) …meaning that I’ve essentially lost ALL the photos I’ve EVER taken (or at least the ones that didn’t involve a CVS Photo Center). I’ve also lost all of my contacts, notes, apps, etc. And I’d been sooooo smart (or so I thought) by installing a password encryption app a few months ago and encrypting all my passwords. Problem now being that I can’t access the encrypted key to the encryption app, as it’s in my iCloud along with everything else. So, now I don’t know any of my passwords (thankfully by the time I set up my blog I’d lost steam on the encryption thing so can access that at least). This is the last time I try to fend off those hackers. In fact, I could use a hacker right now!

NOTE: This is where I left off my draft blog my first night in Marseille, vowing to finish it up in the morning when I hoped to be in a more positive mindset. Little did I know…

I woke up a little bit disoriented, and realized I’d been scratching my arm. I looked down and I gasped out loud as my arm was covered with itchy red bumps. Knowing that European pharmacies are practically equivalent to Urgent Care in the U.S., I headed straight there. I held up my arm. The three pharmacists seemed to only be conferring about how to translate the situation to me. They finally got to what I had suspected…bed buds. I admit I’ve always been dubious about the whole bed bugs thing and I sincerely apologize to my friends who I’ve mocked for paying lots of money for exterminators with bed bug sniffing dogs. I stand corrected and beg for your forgiveness. These things are real. Sigh. I took a deep breath and silently vowed not to feel bad for myself. It was difficult.

I left pharmacy with a tube of cortisone and immediately stumbled upon a free walking tour, so I joined in. I mean, what else was there to do at that moment (except maybe scratch my arm)? It ended up being a great tour and I enjoyed learning more about the city. Afterwards I had a delicious lunch with the guide and a lovely couple, Roger and Allison, at the guide’s favorite local couscous restaurant. Roger and Allison had quit their Silicon Valley jobs two years ago and moved to Mexico City and then Valencia, which they use as a home base for traveling. They do not seem to be missing America. Following lunch, the guide went his way and the three of us climbed to the top of a huge hill (so much easier without a suitcase) to the Notre Dame cathedral, where we were rewarded with stunning views.

After we parted ways I found WiFi and realized Host had not responded to my panicked email from the morning and decided I should probably address that whole bed bug situation. I found Host at his office and my news (and my arm) threw him into a complete tizzy. I’d been hoping to enjoy the sunset at the port that evening, but that did not happen. It took about four hours, and several calls to corporate Air bnb, before I had a hotel room at the Holiday Inn Express (that I may or may not be reimbursed for by Air bnb). At one point corporate Air bnb lady asked me to provide photos of the bugs and bug casings (???) as well as medical documentation. I just sent her a picture of my arm and that seemed to be enough. My final battle of the evening was with oh-so-gracious Host when I asked him to get me an Uber to the hotel. I’m sure he thought I could just walk, per the ushe, and he said that was asking for too much. Too much?!? This did not go over well and it wasn’t until I reminded him that I’d be leaving a review that he capitulated. AND, he accused me of trying to blackmail him!! Is that really blackmail??

I have to say I am not sad to be leaving Marseille (no fault of the city itself) and was relieved to get to the train station this morning. My relief dissipated quickly upon the realization that I’d purchased a ticket from Dijon to Marseille. Noooo!! I was already in Marseille. I was trying to LEAVE Marseille! The kind ticket agent informed me that the booking website lists your destination location first. Well, that just seems silly. It got sorted out but it felt like a final kick in the pants (really hoping it’s final). I’m now on the train to Dijon where I’ll be visiting some dear friends who live there. I emailed to warn them that they have an emotionally precarious and potentially bed bug laden visitor on her way. I wouldn’t blame them at all if they don’t show up at the train station…