Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 298

Zoom with Zipkick: Wharton Business Magazine

Being a Social Influencer Means … a Road Trip?

Jason Will’s years of experience as a consultant at Accenture and Slalom gave him the knowledge to launch his new travel app Zipkick, but he partnered with a social media influencer, Scott Eddy, for the marketing fuel to power the app’s trajectory.

The two have begun an epic road trip with partners in all spheres of travel and transportation. Their efforts epitomize the new paradigm in which a new company no longer needs to wait around to be recognized by print publications to break news or break down walls. Brands realize that traditional marketing efforts are not leading to the desired level of direct user engagement, and they are reallocating their funding toward digital and social media. Facebook, Periscope, SnapChat and Twitter are the millennials The New York Times.

Market intelligence and consulting firm Strategy Analytics published its latest advertising spend figures in the U.S., estimating total expenditure at nearly $187 billion and digital accounts at $52.8 billion of that. That is nearly $30 billion less than TV ad spending. However, digital remains the fastest growing of any category, increasing at a rate of 13 percent this year and up 2.5 percent versus 2014. TV’s number continues to decline annually; it is down 0.6 percent versus 2014). Print, by the way, is substantially less in third place at 15 percent of total ad spend ($28 billion). Meanwhile, social media ad spending is expected to reach $8.3 billion in 2015, up from $2.1 billion in 2014.

This shift to digital media means an opportunity for social media influencers who are able to create real time engagement with their followers at the fraction of the cost. The queen of the phenomena, Kim Kardashian, has built an empire on this principle.

One negative experience with a brand can catch fire on social media, though, and destroy the best efforts of said brand through TV and print media. This denotes the difference between “audience” and “influence.” Just because you have a large following doesn’t necessarily mean you have influence. The content and audience can determine what catches fire and what is background noise on social media platforms.

In Will’s case, he made the choice to bring Eddy, a social media influencer in the travel industry, on board as his brand ambassador. Eddy has worked with Starwood and Marriot in the hotel industry, as well as with other travel brands in assisting them in creating strong audience engagement on social media platforms. Will recruited Eddy off of Twitter. They immediately connected as they are both believers in the dramatic shift occurring in brand marketing, which leverages an influencer’s existing audience and community online and offline to build a brand’s following.

As Eddy has an audience of 671,000+ Twitter followers and growing, Will believes Eddy has the relevance he needs to share his app, the reach as Eddy’s audience is largely interested in travel and resonance as Eddy shares daily content.

The Zipkick road trip team (with Scott Eddy far left and Jason Will in the driver’s seat). Photo credit: Larry Wong.

“People follow me on Twitter because sometimes they just want to escape their daily grind of life, they have the opportunity to live my experiences, which for many reasons they might not be able to do,” says Eddy, perhaps echoing the sentiment of many influencers. “But because of their interest and following, when they do have the ability and resources to go to the places I’ve been, they need the tools to make this happen, which is why Will made the decision to leverage my audience to market his app.”

So far it’s worked. Through this engagement, Zipkick has built up over 16,000 followers on Twitter and growing daily, with many travel professionals and travel business reaching out to the company to see how they can be involved in the app. This is prior to the app’s launch, which is scheduled for the last quarter of 2015. (The app will provide personalized, mobile travel search and booking.)

To add some more fuel to their partnership, Will and Eddy are wrapping a KIA Sedona with their new Zipkick logo and driving 6,500 miles in 50 days. For some, that may be more about craziness than about influence, but stay tuned!

This article was first published at Wharton Business Magazine on August 24, 2015

Wharton Editor’s note: A bit of an influencer herself, Lisa Niver has been invited to join Eddy and Will on part of their Zipkick journey. She will spend one week traveling with them across Utah, Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore and Minneapolis.

 

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Memories let loose in Pakistan

The walled city journey was turning treacherous by the moment. The busy streets, markets made all of us exhausted. We all wanted to rest, find some quiet place to sit and relax. There it was a, dark tunnel like structure that we entered having high anticipation. There was no sound around and the only sound that we heard was of the wooden planks that creaked as we all walked. Therefore, we took our steps very cautiously and moved forward towards the dimly lit half open door. To our surprise, the darkness faded away the instance we trod to the next room. It seemed though as we had passed through a cave and embraced the sunlight after so long.

Colossal metal containers lined our heads, supported on huge white brick columns reminiscent of tall and magniloquent tree trunks. They seemed simple in construction but were still beautified by the detailed bases. The bases acted as if they roots of an enormous tree uprooted due to some natural force. We all at instance imagined ourselves walking through the woods. The metal containers were basically water tanks built in the British Raj. They served water to the entire city.

We walked further towards the light that dimly appeared and were surrounded by long pipes as black as coal, broken ceilings with birds peeping through, pigeon covered trusses, skylight bringing in the divine light and changing the ambiance of the place on a whole. For a moment everyone found a place to sit and admire the quiet beauty amongst us.  The people sat on the benches, some on brick platforms and some on the pipes itself. Everyone found their own level of comfort and listened carefully to the guide telling the history of the place.

The space at times felt very congested because of the fact that the columns were placed very close together and there were many of them. But due to the light breeze that made its way through the skylights made the entire place airy and spacious along with the light that poured in.

 This was the first time that any of us had seen anything like this. Though it was dimly lit we could still make out the objects there. The most fascinating element we might say was the sound of water. The hustle and bustle of the walled city had brought us finally to a calm place where our voices echoed along with the soothing sound of water. We all felt as if there was a stream running behind us and reminded us of stories of princesses in the woods, sitting beside the stream waiting for their prince charming to come and get them.

The space itself was defined by its silence but the silence was at intervals interrupted and added drama to the scene. The pigeons cooing also added a nice array of sounds to the whole atmosphere. Then complete silence broke down. Each of us took off on their own to explore the hidden mysteries of the woods. We went pass the trunk like columns, meandering our way through. It gave us a nostalgic vibe of our childhood when we used to play tag or hide and seek in the woods.

While exploring we came across a set of stairs, old, worn out depicting the true historical glory. We were not allowed to climb the stairs as they posed danger. The stairs led to the top of the tanks. They were used in order to fix the tanks when necessary. The steps appeared as if leading to a tree house above, where a scary enchanted witch resided and it was forbidden for commoners. Therefore we took a quick glance at the stairs and found our way back to the main door

We were now asked to make our way out and during that we came across a big wooden box that resembled some old treasure chest. It seemed as if some dacoit had accidently left a stash of gold and had been so generous to the underprivileged people. It brought back more childhood fantasies of playing finders keeper and losers weepers. And there our voyage was almost ending, collecting history, childhood memories and stories in our satchels.

While we walked back, many thoughts came to our minds still wanting to unravel. The story told and experienced was just one part of history. There was more to it that we could feel. When we stepped out of the area we had many questions unanswered and wished we could come there again and bring back answers with us. The trip was truly unimaginable, beyond our expectations. It was the perfect treat for us as architects, students and mere civilians.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Desire and Pain in Nigeria

 

Desire and Pain in Nigeria

I’ve learnt over the years that for a healthy living to be achieved, happiness and freedom would have to play a key role in one’s life. Whilst growing up, I’ve been inhibited of freedom, whereas I strive to achieve happiness. I’m the only son in the family of four, brought up in an extended family. I bore the joy of a united home when we lived separately.

I’ve always cherished togetherness or cooperation or unity in a family. I’m a firm believer of oneness, because great success stories and achievements are told when family ties are bonded. As a teenager living in a rented house then, I was repeatedly denied freedom — the gateway to true and healthy living.

Spanning from a little boy that had no room of his own to mal-treatment; nobody cared how you felt — your opinion never counted. I couldn’t hang out like other good kids did. Presumably, because I was the ‘only son’ and they were protecting me. Why was it painful? — The feeling; like when a razor slices through one’s skin. If that was the reason, it was punctured because my sisters encountered litany of denial of freedom too in their own way, and in fact sometimes in the peering eyes of the public, due to one thing they did or they’d insisted on doing.

Due to my passion for oneness, I frequently reminded my guardians the need for us to move to our own house, where my uncles occupied. I wanted ‘one big-family’. I did visit my cousins most a times when we lived separately, and certainly when my guardians weren’t around. Later on, we moved to our house in the same village — a full house: with my two uncles, their children, their wives and my grandmother. There was barely enough space to move around, as there was little space in the compound.

At first, we all got along well, we were happy but in a certain way. Meanwhile, my immediate family are the ‘degenerate offspring’ from my grandmother. In other words, my father and my uncles are step-brothers. Back in my father’s house, I still had no freedom, exacerbated by the lack of happiness that I incurred at intervals — I had no room of my own, and I wasn’t allowed to go out unless I was permitted to do so; reminding me of my days in the primary school.

In addition, to be awake late in the night was a crime for whatever strict reason. Even as my guardians had termed it, ‘for your health’, they always addressed you in ‘80 decibels’, no matter what time it was.

My uncles and their wives always ensured to be a constant reminder of disturbance. Little arguments often erupted to assault. I can recall when my grandmother’s youngest son’s wife assaulted my mother. Heated turn of events would start like how the cock crows in the early morning. It reached a crescendo: a point that we couldn’t talk freely in our room. We’d resorted to whispering in order to avoid the ever-attentive ears of our neighbours (relatives). My parents would retreat to a distant room, and speak in a low, muffled tone whenever they wanted to advice us. I adore their gratifying attitude.

Though there was hardly peace in the house, we supported ourselves; my immediate family nonetheless. In the school, I lost concentration in the class — brilliant boy that developed a geometrical decline in grade. I never got enough of both freedom and happiness, as outlined in my essay entitled, ‘Building Peace in our Hearts and Minds’. Often I’d admired my friends then in high school; how their parents treated them, cared for them, and were always there for them especially during the school visiting days.     

However, I found out that staying away from home suited my wits, though I was visibly concerned about my family. I felt free and devoid of hurtful thoughts, and experiences. Yet, it wasn’t enough. I needed a bit of closure — ambience of family. Despite all the hassles, the theatrics; I still wanted a ‘love-bond’ family.

During the period of my stay in my sister’s house, I experienced a new-wave of happiness. On my road to personal indulgence in travelling, I understood what it meant to be really happy. Being surrounded by the people I care about makes it fascinating. The knowledge that my family members are faring well mattered to me.

Staying put on my own, and with the precious ones I care about prided me in family-bond nurture. I cherished: feeling at ease, exercising my true self. The ‘solid-rocked’ support from the people that care about me kept me going.

The love, support, care — to protect our own.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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The Real Ireland

The Real Ireland

It starts with a slap drum.  A man in his early 20’s throws his hands against a tall wooden box between his outstretched legs with every cell in his body. His back hunched, his red hair gathered into a loose bun, he sends the fast, hard rhythm out into a gathering crowd and down into the wet brick beneath him. Moments later, the other two band members follow, a blond guitarist in a trench coat, a smooth vocalist with a tambourine.

It is our first morning in Dublin, my fiancé and myself, and we have just walked the two blocks from our hotel on St. Stephen’s Green before turning right onto the famous Grafton Street where tourists and locals stream an even pace between the walls of Ireland’s architectural heritage. Under the overcast, March sky, Oriel windows and Romanesque facades sit atop revamped storefronts and colorful signs, a past insisting itself upon the present. And it is nothing like I had imagined.

Before landing at Dublin Airport, I had seen the same pictures of Ireland as everyone else. Mostly the countryside, rolling green hills dotted with grazing sheep under a bright, Irish sun, row houses with vibrant green and aqua doors, and stony cliffs towering over a churning sea. I had not thought a great deal about the country’s capital city. In fact, most of the travel blogs I had researched before the trip informed future travelers to “get out of Dublin” if they wanted to see the “real Ireland.”

The three band members continue to drawl a crowd, nearly blocking the surrounding storefronts with a wall of backs. The more that gather, the more my attention turns from the band and the surrounding sights to the people. Mostly fair faces nestled into thick scarves against the early spring wind, red-blond curls press up from under wool hats and I think, My God, these people look like me.

The next day we will take the advice of so many travel writers; we will rent a car and drive out of Dublin. We will tour the narrow country roads lined with stone walls. We will climb crumbling castle stairs and read plaques about battles won and lost. We will stand inside the pictures and we will enjoy every moment as we have enjoyed every trip we have taken. We will enjoy it as tourists.

When the band’s song draws to a close, the large crowd erupts, whistling and clapping before tossing money into an open guitar case and dispersing. The air is now open to the sound of the other morning musicians staking their claims up and down the street, fiddles and guitars, voices and drums, and we continue our way toward Trinity College, but now I cannot keep my eyes of the people we pass. The faces so much like my own. I am starting to find something for which I did not know I was looking.

Over the next five days following our exploration of those hills and country roads, we will find that we are reluctant to leave again. “Dive down to the Ring of Kerry,” one local tells us over pints. “The Aran Islands,” another offers, “if you want to see what the real Ireland used to be.” But we have no desire to leave. There is something seemingly more real inside Dublin.

On our last day in Ireland we will return to one of the first pubs we had visited, The Celt on Talbot Street, and I will turn to my fiancé and declare what I have been slowly realizing throughout our trip. I had felt it while breathing in the musty smell of the Trinity College Library. I had felt it while standing in the gardens of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. But it is only upon the consideration of leaving that I will know what that feeling is. “I’m in love with this city,” I say.

My fiancé will nod and agree that it is a great city.

“No,” I correct. “This is the first city we have traveled where I feel like I belong, like I could stay here.”

That was over a year ago, and since then my now husband and I have been to many more cities, including Rome, Stockholm, London, Paris, and Venice. And the more places we experience, the more I realize about Dublin, its earthiness, a kind of comfortable grit that rises up from between the grey cobblestone, a warmth that falls from the shoulders of its people, and all of it is filled with a kind of ancient music. It is only Dublin that has opened its arms to me and welcomed me home.

About the Author:

Kristin Stoner is a lecturer in the English Department at Iowa State University. Her poetry and writings can be found most recently in Mojave River Review and Rose Red Review. She lives in Des Moines, Iowa with her patient husband and energetic dog.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Zipkick Bloggers: Savannah Grace

 

Zipkick Bloggers:  Savannah Grace

Where was the first place that you traveled that made you think WOW—travel is amazing (think history book come to life or …..)

Yangshuo, China made a huge impact on me. We visited Yangshuo in the first week of our 4 year family backpacking trip around the world.  When I fell asleep on the overnight bus we were in a big, modern city, when I awoke we were in the misty countryside with villagers plowing fields with the help of water buffalo. The landscape was so mysterious and unique that I was simply in awe, seriously contemplating whether or not I was still dreaming. It was a fairytale come to life.

Children in Yanghuo, China

If you had unlimited resources, where would you go and what would you do?

Oh, boy! It’s funny, I feel like, why wait to have unlimited resources before doing what you really want to do!? Make it happen. But I suppose if I had all the resources I would build my own kingdom on the moon. Then charge entry fees to my Moon Park. Zipkick bloggers get to come for free, of course! Then with the money I get from the park I would use to take less fortunate people on their dream trip.

What were you afraid to do and how did you find the courage to overcome it?

If I’m honest, I’m afraid of everything! I freak out about every big and little thing that crosses my path ie flying, scuba diving, traveling, finding the toilet in a restaurant. But the thing that gives me courage is the fear of being left out, that always overpowers the other fear. I always positions myself in a way that I am surrounded by people who force me to try new things. They put me in the position where I’m thinking, “Oh no, if I don’t go with them, I’ll miss out and regret it forever.” And voila! It works like a charm for me.

What apps do you use regularly that make your life easier?

All the social media apps on my phone, including Hootsuite.

What place do you wish more people have seen?

Poverty. The one thing that impacted me the most was seeing poverty and realizing that MOST of the world isn’t lavished in wealth the way I was when growing up in Vancouver, Canada. The reason I think it’s important to see is because you quickly realize how happy those people are despite the lack of possessions that we falsely value so much.

Best advice you have been given and by whom?

Pretty much everything my mom has taught me about positive thinking and expecting good things to come your way. And the best advice she ever received is one that I have incorporated into my life, “Don’t do what you think you HAVE to do to please others, do what you want to do.” In the end, it’s you who has to live with your decisions, not those who try to mold you into what they think is right.

When were you surprised by the kindness of strangers on a trip?

So, so many times! To name the first few that pop to mind, a young man on a local bus in Afghanistan helped us find a place to stay in Kunduz, a small town bordering Tajikistan. He went out of his way to help us and we ended up staying with his sister’s family. She was 18 years old, the third wife of a much older man and pregnant with his 19th child. Experiencing such a different culture like that is one of the richest kind’s of memories to take home.

Numerous times the nomads of Mongolia saved us by sharing their food and letting us stay with them when we were lost in the desert and countryside.

Peace Corps volunteers and LDS missionaries also helped us many, many times during our travels. The amazing thing is they always crossed our paths when we needed them most.

What inspired you to travel for extended periods of time or live in a new country?

I am a zipkick blogger because…. I conquer my fears everyday in order to pursue my dreams and hope to inspire others to do the same.

Thank you Savannah Grace for being part of our ZipKick Blogger interview series!
Connect with Savannah:

Savannah Grace is a 25 year old Canadian, Dutch resident who has visited 100+ countries. She is the author of the bestselling family-travel memoir series Sihpromatum which includes “I Grew My Boobs in China” and “Backpacks and Bra Straps”. Co-founder of popular weekly Twitter travel chat #TRLT.

LINKS:

FB Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sihpromatum-I-Grew-my-Boobs-in-China/367565703312088

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/StickyVisuals/videos

Website: www.sihpromatum.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sihpromatum

Instagram:  https://instagram.com/sihpromatum/

G+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/105924301085537862580/posts

Book #1: http://www.amazon.com/Sihpromatum-Boobs-China-Savannah-Grace-ebook/dp/B008YZ0184/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1405735458&sr=8-1&keywords=sihpromatum

Book #2: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00N3M4FNU/ref=series_rw_dp_sw

 

 

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The Dream of Living on a Beach in the USA

The bright blue ocean water lapped at the white sandy beach. I sat on my beach towel watching and listening to the water roll in and out along the shore in Laguna Beach, two miles west of Panama City Beach, Fla. I remember the first time I saw the Gulf of Mexico as a nine-year-old child. I wasn’t a good swimmer, and I had no desire to swim even now. However, the ocean called my name.

I had visited a beach nine times before this trip, but this was the first time I realized the beach is my place. It is my paradise. It is where I am happiest. My two children and I had traveled 12 hours from our home in Indiana to stay on a quiet part of this white sandy beach in the panhandle of Florida. It was my first trip to this part of Florida. When I had traveled to this southern state as a child, I had always gone either to the west or east coast, and I didn’t usually stay for a week as we were doing this time.

Even though it was spring break, I had no desire to be in the heart of the action. Instead we stayed about two miles west in a quiet little town. Condominiums and small houses surrounded the small motel. If the motel’s sign hadn’t greeted us, I probably wouldn’t have known it was a motel. It blended in so well with everything else.

For every meal we could sit at the table at the front double window and watch the  ocean. We could sit on the porch and hear and see the ocean. I soaked up all I could the seven days we stayed. I began falling in love with the area even though I knew people were partying two miles away. I loved the peacefulness I could feel. Every night the sun said good night to me as it slipped down the horizon, giving us these beautiful colors in the sky.

A couple of days into our vacation, I started looking at little houses for sale. Curiosity got the best of me since I knew I couldn’t afford anything at that point. However, I could dream of an enclosed screen porch where I could write and soak in the ocean as I was on this vacation. I had never had a beach captivate me as this one did. I’m not sure if it was the white sand or the clear blue water or the quietness of the area or all of the above. Not many tourists gathered around — only the ones staying in the motel. I did find one house on down the road for sale. What little grass there was stood tall, and the house looked as though no one had lived in it for quite some time. The potential of living there jumped at me.

The beach makes me feel alive and brings me joy that I’ve never felt before. I can’t say my home state of Indiana does that except maybe in the summer. Even then I don’t have a beach where I can hear and see the ocean. I don’t know what it is about the beach, but I feel more myself when I’m there. I can relax and not think about the stress I’m dealing with back home or the craziness of what is going on with our country.

It’s like the water rolls in, grabs my troubles, and takes them back out to sea so that I don’t have to deal with them again — if only I was that lucky. But while I’m there, I don’t think about anything but relaxing and finally getting away. Maybe someday I can afford to have a place near a beach, but for now visiting as much as I can and dreaming is all I can do.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Ready to go on Your Own Road Trip?

Hello from Park City Utah! Yesterday I flew for the first time in a hot air balloon with Park City Balloon Adventures! That was an amazing bucket list way to start the day. I am driving with ZipKick to Yellowstone National Park. I have always wanted to go and am so excited to be going today. There are 58 National Parks in the USA. Looking at the whole list, I realize I have been more than I thought. Our National Parks are a treasure and the National Park service is nearly 100 years old!

Many people have written to me asking about how can they visit our National Parks especially with their families. I have an idea for you!

Participate right away in the EveryDay Park Moments Photo Contest for a chance to win a trip for four to one of three iconic National Parks: National Mall and Memorial Parks (Washington, DC), Grand Canyon National Park (Arizona) or Yosemite National Park (California) where the ZipKick road trip began. You need to enter between July 30th and August 31st so get your photos ready and caption with #EveryDayMoments! 

CONTEST INFORMATION:

To enter,  share a “selfie” or other snapshot that captures special #EveryDayMoments at local and national parks with family or friends – along with a caption. Submissions will be accepted from July 30 to August 31, 2015. Each of the winners can bring up to three guests to join them at one of three (1 of 3) National Parks packages:

A trip for four (4) to Yosemite National Park, including round-trip airfare to Fresno, CA, three (3) nights’ accommodations at Tenaya Lodge, an America the Beautiful Pass a choice of two (2) activities from a list provided to the winner, and a $1000 activity and spending allowance awarded to the winner.
A trip for four (4) to Grand Canyon National Park, including round-trip airfare to Phoenix, AZ, three (3) nights’ accommodations at The Grand Canyon Lodge, an America the Beautiful Pass, and a $2000 activity and spending allowance awarded to the winner.
A trip for four (4) to the National Mall and Memorial Parks of Washington, DC, including round-trip airfare to Washington D.C., three (3) nights’ accommodations at The Grand Hyatt, a Monuments and Memorials half-day photo shoot, and a dinner cruise, and a $1,500 spending allowance awarded to the winner.

ENTER HERE (see site for all contest rules and details contest closes August 31, 2015)

 

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The Marvels of the Pink City, India

During my stay in India I got the chance to visit Jaipur. This visit was the first time that I was able to explore India. Our neighbor, with which we had shared our tragic history. Though  the visit was short, it was extremely memorable. I have collected many memories to cherish for a long time.

When I arrived, I was awestruck by the beauty of my surroundings. The desert state of Rajasthan is a land of irony and extremes; a state where, with a drop of rain all season, the green trees and grasses mesmerize you. This vibrant and striking region is the home of the Rajput warrior clans who had ruled here for many years.

The first site we landed upon on our path to the city was the Amber Palace/Fort, which defends the entrance into the city of Jaipur, often referred to as the Pink City. We arrived very early, so we were able to beat the herd of people on their way.

As we moved onward with our journey, I saw amazing sites, which I couldn’t catch with my camera, because we were in the car, or too many people were in the way, or cows were blocking my view though somehow managed to get a glimpse and save it in my photographic memory. We entered the Pink City, Jaipur, and literally, it is pink. It was built up with pink stones – the color associated with hospitality in Rajput caste.

Nevertheless, in this fast pace of time Jaipur has maintained its erstwhile charm, and that can be observed during the visit to the city, where the pleasing pink color still welcomes. The pink appears as if someone sprinkled pink fairy dust all over the place and one feels as if standing in a fairyland.

Today also, the city is divided into parts, where the new city is embracing all the modern day technologies, unlike the old city is still bustling with fumes of pollution and spices all over. The old fraction of the city is almost the same as it was, the royal architecture, and the hustling bazaars of the city enchant every heart. The visitors to these bazaars can never return empty handed, as the captivating artifacts, abundantly colorful textile, and various other products are so irresistible. Therefore, my hands were also full when I left the market place. One truly indulges itself in the beautiful colors around him.

There are numerous places in Jaipur that unparallel in terms of beauty and architecture, for cinemas, forts. The famous one is Raj Mandir cinema. ‘The Pink City’ has become a major tourist centre of the country. The city is packed with many attractions like beautiful and glorious forts, world famous theatres, gorgeous temples and many more. As a tourist you will be awestruck with the beauty of the monuments in the city. Flamboyant and vivacious bazaars bustle with attractive stuff. The handicrafts market is famous for its block printing. There I got hold of a beautiful piece hand woven fabric as a souvenir.

The last stop of the day was the Jantar Mantar  place. There are plenty of observatories all over the world, but the Jantar Mantar is considered to be one of the largest observatories ever built. Combining religion, science and art, the Jantar Mantar is the name given to a series of five, magnificent structures built. It houses the world’s largest sundial. Its architecture is certainly a delight.

Jaipur is a city filled with culture and history. There is so much more than mentioned above to see and feel. A desert city filled with greenery, history and a vibrant culture is nothing less than enchanting. I can never let go of these memories. The trip turned out to be a great experience in my life as a student of architecture. Architecture, of what I had only read about came alive in front of my eyes in this unforgettable journey to Jaipur.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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August News from We Said Go Travel

August 2015 News from Lisa & We Said Go Travel:

My first trip to #StKitts was fantastic. I loved Restaurant Week. I have six videos to share. Click here to see them all.
More about St. Kitts: Arrival at YU lounge, Singing Railroad,  History and Treats, beautiful Belle Mont Farm, sunrise, sunset. (photo above is from swimming in St. Kitts
I spent an amazing week in Bogota, Colombia and cannot wait to share the videos and stories with you.
I am currently in Utah with Jason Eddy (CEO) & Scott Eddy (Global Ambassador) of ZipKick! Look for all our media and social media using the tag #ZipKickBloggers.
The #LGG4 phone takes incredible photos and video. Look for great photos of my adventures on all social media: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube
I hope that your summer is full of freedom and fun. Thank you for your support of We Said Go Travel! Lisa

TRAVEL WRITING CONTEST

Thank you to everyone who participated in the Winter 2015 Inspiration contest. The winners can be seen here. I am currently publishing the entries from the Summer 2015 Independence Writing Contest. I expect to announce the winners in early October.

The Fall Gratitude Travel Writing Contest will begin on September 11, 2015. More details: click here. Many updates are coming to We Said Go Travel and there will be a few changes to the contest. Stay tuned!

YOUTUBE
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PREPARING FOR A SHARK ATTACK

From Seth Godin: Because it has always been this wayThat’s a pretty bad answer to a series of common questions.Why is the format of the board meeting like this? Why do we always structure our annual conference like this? Why is this our policy? Why do we let him decide these issues? Why is this the price?

The real answer is, “Because if someone changes it, that someone will be responsible for what happens.”

Are you okay with that being the reason things are the way they are?

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Je suis Montreal, Canada

    Turning right onto Rue Notre Dame I entered the city, a white canvas with a vast color palette. I had never seen such a picturesque city in winters. It was veritably a delight. The snow was like the white ash that falls covering the land and everything in its path. It’s like magic falling from the sky. The airs smells pure and fresh. Everything seems quieter, almost muffled. There is a sense of serenity in the atmosphere. As I headed farther towards the main city I came across a gigantic monument as I pronounce. It was, really, it was a penguin to mark Winter Olympics  but their affiliation with snow dates way back . Cut long story short, I was standing in front of Parc Olympique, a remarkable design, a huge monument depicting a penguin and a dome to signify the stadium.

   My car glided over the road due the remnants of snow after the snowfall and I changed my direction towards Pierre Dupuy Avenue. As soon as the car paced steadily on the road I saw an anchored ship on my left submerged under the white fluffy blanket. The snow had nearly veiled everything that reached my sight. I was forced to bring my vehicle to a halt.

The only thing my eye could figure out at that time was the circular windows of the ship with some blurry reflections of random cubes, boxes one might say. There my gaze travelled 90 degrees to the right, and there it stood , the work of a genius. A sculpture, as it appears to a lay man was an architectural wonder. It was the notable Habitat 67 designed by Moshe Safdie. One can call it a complex structure but it is merely a composition of concrete blocks stacked above each other in a hugger-mugger which stood out surpassed the other houses. The houses were a  piece of art on its own, with their beautiful undisturbed snowy roofs and chimneys.

As I stepped out of the car to greet the beauty around me, goose bumps began crawling on my skin like a troop of ants and I pulled my sweater tighter. It was the only protection I had against the chilly wind. The quick range of temperature made a shiver run down my spine and soon the cool  and crisp air was meandering through the trees and  caressing my skin. Comparing with the temperature of Ottawa, Montreal was much colder as it moves higher up towards the north. The only fear I had was that these mere goose bumps do not turn to frostbites in the next moment.

The frozen river, hidden ship and the colossal structure fitted perfectly on a portrait describing Montreal to its best. The harmony and balance they created with the environment was enthralling. My next stop was the old Montreal as I heard from people. My car parked at a distance from the narrow street I decided to continue my visit on foot. Strolling on the sidewalks wrapped with snow, the only color that appeared was the grey impressions of my footsteps. But soon turning from grey to brown and then completely dissolving removing my presence there. Horse-drawn carriages traverse cobblestone streets and meander past such notable sites as the Notre Dame Basilica was something to cherish. A clear distinction could be made from modern to vintage Montreal. The old, was very rich in culture. Mingling with Montrealers at sidewalk cafés while overlooking the river, or enjoy the wintertime street performers was truly a treat. This was also a popular shopping area (despite the tawdry souvenir shops), and numerous bars and clubs bring the prettiest of views to life.

While walking back towards my car I watched the sunset with its mango rays disappearing gradually behind the crimson clouds. As darkness slowly crept upon the fading light, the entire perspective of the landscape changed, trees went from fresh green to a darker tint. Enamored in all, I could let the sunset play before my eyes as a fascinating Shakespearian act, because the sky acted as the stage while the clouds, sun, its rays and birds were the characters bringing it to life. And the birds chirping, added a melodious symphony in the air just like a Mozart one.

The winter season leaves a strong impression on one, and itself becomes a tale to narrate. But what always makes me sad is that it will all melt away, normality will resume. All that will be left is the grey, dirty slush and the memories of another rare day in the snow.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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