Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 348

Where the Ure begins in the UK

 

All week the sun has been as fierce as it gets in the Yorkshire Dales. It forms rising ripples in the air that act as a distorting mirror to the landscape. The lower flanks of the far hills, Wild Boar and Baugh Fell, appear to have moveable bases, as if set in jelly. Tractors passing over meadows wobble under this climatic illusion. Despite the good weather the peat soils are water filled and wobble with each step, adding to the sense of a landscape on the move.

 

I walk to where the River Ure spills out of two slit-crevices in the limestone rocks, this has always been my place, somewhere I sit and watch life pour out of the geology. The river shifts its length here, above me an ephemeral stream, shrinking and surging with the weather, provides the adjustable start of the Ure. Below me the water skates the boundary of Yorkshire and Cumbria before turning into the long valley towards the Moorcock Inn, where Wensleydale really begins.

 

I’m resting on rank vegetation, purple and blue moor grass, fescues and the wild thyme that seeps into the air, the scent of the Dales. The top plateau leads over towards Cotterdale, on good days buzzards, peregrine and even merlin break the sky. I once watched one of these swift-fast flacons hunt a skylark here, they both flew in what appeared to be a choreographed aerial dance, but it was life and death for both, with the skylark losing. All around me are pipits, stonechats and wheatears, their name appropriately derived from the Norse for white arse. The birds skip between the tops of grasses or between lichen-covered boulders.

 

I spent five seasons surveying the trout populations of this river. I was in wonder at their ability to turn from calcite grey to chocolate brown. I would hold them in white and dark buckets ready for counting them. On letting them go I would quickly transfer them from the dark to the white bucket and watch them turn. Their chameleon ability astounded me, and offered the trout protection in streams that can turn from crystal clear to peat brown with the first flush of a downpour.

 

Down at Blades Farm one drought-cast summer I discovered over twenty native white-clawed crayfish resting the day in scour holes below the little waterfall. Back then I had a license to survey these animals so took measurements of their carapace and recorded sex and lengths. There were two large males amongst them, bigger than I’d seen before. Their grasping cheliped pincers snapped at me but I had them held before releasing them back into the water.

 

The non-native signal crayfish, introduced from America for food but now run-rampant across the rivers and streams of England, may have got a hold of me, their cheliped limbs are near double jointed. You have to be sure of the grip you have on these larger animals. I was always proud that the system I worked on was free of the signals that elsewhere destroyed populations of the native form. Signal crayfish carry the crayfish plague that the indigenous white-claws have no immunity to. But the signals are only forty short miles downstream of here and so it’s only a matter of time before they reach these headwater streams.

 

I watch the occasional train go by on the Settle-Carlisle run and a little downstream of me farmers are working hard on bringing in the haylage from the best fields, which are poor in comparison to the meadows of lower Wensleydale. Then I take a slow walk to Hell Gill Force, a little step over the watershed into the Eden River system of Cumbria. Hell Gill Beck pours through narrow gorges before surging over a cauldron waterfall.

 

This short step over the watershed spills the rains into a vast drainage basin of the North-Western hills before edging into the sea at the Solway Firth. At the falls I watch the water drift with the breeze into the large plunge pool. There are no fences to stop you falling but this offers better views of the small stream that soon becomes one of the best Atlantic salmon rivers in the north.

 

I clamber down the grassy flanks that have become terraced from sheep trails and soil creep. At the stream bed I clamber over moss-wet rocks and algae-laden boulders that are barely able to sustain a foothold, till I reach the foot of the waterfall. I find a place to sit and simply watch the water run downstream and away from me.

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

The post Where the Ure begins in the UK appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Beyond the Trip: 5 Things You Didn’t Know You Could Do on a Cruise

Cruises are popular vacation options yet not many are aware that a cruise is much more than being spoiled with luxurious accommodations, full board meals and entertainment on board. A cruise is also a great opportunity to discover and experience the culture and recreation of the different places included in the cruise trip’s itinerary. Holiday Cruise Line, for instance, offers land-based excursions on its Caribbean cruise itinerary.

Jackie Finley, Holiday Cruise Line Representative, says, “Our cruise line offers a swim with the dolphins attraction that a lot of our vacationers get really excited about. It’s the sort of once in a lifetime thing that we pride ourselves on offering to our customers, and we think it goes beyond what people traditionally associate with cruises. I think, when people talk about cruises, they sometimes get caught up in the sea trip and forget that there’s a land destination on the other end of it. Cruises arrange a lot of very special entertainments for passengers. For example, our guided, horseback trail tour of the Grand Bahama Island is a great chance to see a wholly unique place. It’s a big part of what we offer.”

The Grand Bahama Island is a favorite travel destination. Make the most of your cruise trip by availing of these sensational tour options to the island:

Our Lucaya Beach Resort Experience

Spend a day at the spectacular 4-star Our Lucaya Beach Resorts. This family-friendly property offers the absolute Bahamas get-away for adults and kids alike. A day trip will surely delight you, whether under the sunshine, on the pristine white sandy beaches, or in the crystal clear blue waters. Enjoy the plush amenities the resorts have to offer including fresh-water pools, Jacuzzis, swim-up bars, and many others. A sumptuous buffet lunch is in store for day excursionists, too. And, of course, there is the Village Market Promenade that offers fantastic duty-free shopping should you wish to bring home a souvenir to remember your great Bahamas island fun day by.

Swim with the Dolphins

Have fun with the dolphins at The Dolphin Experience Lagoon. Learn about these friendly sea creatures and play with them in the water. It promises to be an experience of a lifetime!

Snorkel Adventure Tour

Have a unique adventure and discover the underwater attractions around the island. Snorkel and marvel at the rich marine life and colorful corals of the Caribbean sea. The tour includes refreshments, use of snorkel equipment, and snorkel jackets and instructions by an experienced and professional staff.

Glass Bottom Boat Tour

If you prefer a relaxing sightseeing tour, sail onboard the “Ocean Wonder,” a 60 foot double-deck glass bottom boat. Take in the awesome beauty around the island and view its landmarks such as Cooper’s Medieval Castle, while

catching sight of the vibrant underwater world while enjoying the Bahamas sunshine. You’ll also have the chance to see the Brit’s Wreck submerged near Treasure Reef.

The Ultimate Eco-Tour

Get a closer look of the island’s beauty on horseback in just two hours. Take a guided trail ride through the endangered pine forest, see Cooper’s Castle, then meander along the beach and into the ocean.

Whatever you fancy, don’t miss out on the fun in store for you onboard and on land during your cruise! Happy cruising!

*****

Photo credits:

Lucaya Beach: Bing via Flickr

Woman at Bahamas Beachfront: ollie harrdige via Flickr

Our Lucaya Beach Resort Pool: ollie harridge via Flickr

Dolphin: Boris Kasimov via Flickr

Snorkeling: Michael Gray via Flickr

Horseback Riding: elaine moore via Flickr

 

The post Beyond the Trip: 5 Things You Didn’t Know You Could Do on a Cruise appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Spending time with dad in Tanzania

Looking around the table, listening to the stories of Borneo, gorillas in Rwanda and other exotic spots, I felt a bit out of place.  This was ironic.  While I grew up in California, I work in International Development which had taken me to Peshwar, Jalalabad, Bogota, Banda Aceh, Tegucigalpa….just to name a few distant outposts.  However, this trip was different…my dad and I were sitting in an elegant tent in the middle of the Serengeti as the wildebeest migration wandered through camp.

 

It all started when my dad mentioned his retirement dream of seeing the migration and going on safari.  My mom, a more artistic than adventurous soul, said she’d rather not go, and my dad generously asked if I’d like to join him.  This sparked a year-long research project of finding the right safari….did we want to stay in tents?  Five star hotels?  Did we want our own guide?  What country, what animals, what cultures?   We finally narrowed it down to the Serengeti in Tanzania, with a multiple-day stay in a camp following the migration.

 

Arriving from two continents, me from Italy and dad from California, we stayed one night in Arusha before meeting our gregarious and knowledgeable guide, Cornelius.   Our trusty Land Cruiser was packed the next morning with luggage and treats, and off we went.  The drive quickly went from hot, noisy, dusty Arusha to the wide-open spaces of the rift valley.

 

Our first stop not on the printed itinerary as we were quick to learn was the “way of Cornelius” was a lone Baobab tree.  Here Cornelius hopped out, jumped a fence of thorns and begin our education on the amazing array of birds living in the micro-habitat around the Balboa.  Birds with long tails, yellow coloring, delicate features opened a new world of African safaris was opened to us as we stood looking up.  We would learn that the  “big five” (lion, elephant, buffalo, leopard and rhino) were only a fraction of the life on in the Tanzanian savannah.

 

As we arrived at our next destination, Lake Manyara National Park, dad and I were like kids in a candy store.  As our first true “safari” spot, it lived up to our dreams, with a baboon family welcoming us at the gate, rhino rib trees displaying spectacular lines and angles, and our first glimpse of a cheetah.  Next was Gibbs Farm, one of the first guest houses in Tanzania, sitting on acres of organic coffee and produce. More than 70 percent of the items on the menu are products of the farm. Our first night’s meal, cooked by a professional chef included a peanut and eggplant soup and fresh herb soufflé…not items I had anticipated eating on safari!

 

The next day brought elephants chasing away lions, thousands of pink flamingos, a rare black rhino sighting, and frolicking baby zebras on our drive into and through the Ngorongoro Crater.  Driving down the other side of the crater, we entered the hot, dusty backside of the conservation area.  Umbrella trees went from a rarity to the predominant life-form on the landscape.  From green to brown the landscape changed as we lazily neared camp.  As we neared, a storm descended upon us, sloshing the Land Cruiser about, giving Cornelius the chance to demonstrate his talent at taming the “Land Cruiser in mud beast.”  Watching other Land Cruisers in the distance not move with us, we appreciated Cornelius’ driving skills more than at any other point along the trip.

Upon arrival, we joined the small group of other hardy storm survivors who had reached our intimate camp on this vast plain.  Sitting at dinner that night, I realized how special the moment was in this place … sounds of wildebeest grunting in the background, stories of travels far and wide circling the table, and my dad sitting at my side, smiling and laughing as he fulfilled his retirement dream.

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

The post Spending time with dad in Tanzania appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Time Travel in Bavaria, Germany

The countryside flashes past my window, in a haze of rain-soaked forest. Occasionally the dense woods give way to meadows full of cows and low wooden buildings. Beyond that, there are only shifting storm-clouds. I know that we should be in the Alps by now, but they aren’t visible. I zip up my wool sweater and thank the heavens that I brought a rain jacket. Finally the train pulls into Garmisch-Partenkirchen, where I’ll make a short pitstop before continuing back to Munich.

Warming up in a little cafe not far from the train station, I peruse a map, wondering what I have time to see. Friends had recommended the Partnach Gorge, but I don’t have time to hike very far. Pity, since I’m told it’s amazing. Wallfahrtskirche Sankt Anton. I don’t even try to pronounce it, but it sounds interesting, and it’s close by. Relieved that the rain seems to have stopped, I pay the bill and make my way in the general direction indicated.

The twin towns of Garmisch and Partenkirchen make up one of the most scenic places to visit in the Bavarian Alps, so I’ve been told. And it’s easy to see why. Almost every building and house is lavishly endowed with murals depicting scenes religious, historical, astrological, or just decorative flowers and scrollwork. Carved wood balconies peep from deeply overhanging eaves and steep A-frame roofs. The mist is beginning to dissipate, revealing at least the mountains’ feet, cloaked in thick forest. Once in a while a distinctive peak shows itself, rearing above the rooftops. It’s called Zugspitze, named for tracks left by the avalanches that are prone to sweep down its steep inclines.

Finding St. Anton Strasse, I follow it to a trail leading up the hillside. The storm is clearing, but the trees still drip with mist. I cross a rickety bridge over a small, gurgling stream, and pass a pillar dedicated to—who else—Ludwig II. He is literally everywhere in Bavaria. At a level spot I stop for breath and look toward town. I haven’t been walking long, but the colorful houses are already below me.

The path continues up, doubling back on itself several times. Just when I’m about to run out of breath, a gleam of white tells me I’ve reached my destination. The church is a large, solid structure, onion-domed, with an arched portico on one side. I climb a set of steps into a sort of gatehouse, and there I see the first of them. Wooden plaques, dozens of them, each bearing a name, dates, sometimes a photo. These are memorials for German soldiers who died in the second World War.

A covered walkway leads me onto the portico of the church, where the walls are entirely covered with plaques. It’s mind-boggling, there’s so many. I am unprepared for the sadness, and something close to guilt. How can we so easily forget the humanity of the other side, their lives and loves and stories as if they never existed? I step reluctantly closer and am captured by a black and white photo. The soldier is young—nineteen according to the inscription—but his eyes stare back at me knowingly. What was his life like, I wonder. Did he grow up in a little Bavarian town like the one below, with parents, siblings, friends. What was he told about the war, about his country, about mine? What kind of a life might he have had, before it was destroyed?

Recoiling, I blink away unexpected tears and pull my jacket closer as I walk past the rows and rows of names, faces. So young, many of them. Some look a little older, as if they would have had a family waiting for them at home. How long did they have to wait before knowing the truth?

The inside of the church feels bleak as well, dominated by a mural of a battle scene. I hurry back outside and lean on the edge of the portico, watching the last of the storm clouds scud across the Zugspitze. This is harder than I’d have expected, to see the faces of the “enemy” who don’t look so much like enemies at all. Instead they look like teenagers, farmers, fathers, sons. None seem hardened or cruel. Did they know about Auschwitz? Did they know why they were fighting? For that matter, did anyone?

Now I’m reluctant to leave. As I go, I keep looking at their eyes, and see something that surprises me—heroes. Unwitting heroes perhaps, but they loved their home and they fought for it. This is an old land, scarred by countless wars. Yet with courage and strength the world remakes itself out of the broken pieces. The question is, who is heroic enough to be part of the healing.

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

The post Time Travel in Bavaria, Germany appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Cafe Del Rey Stunning Views in Marina Del Rey

Cafe Del Rey is the place for stunning views in Marina Del Rey. For a romantic sunset or marvelous Mediterranean mouthfuls  by the water, “the food at CAFE del REY is about discovery, simplicity and quality of ingredients.” I can highly recommend the fresh fish and the incredible chocolate tower. I will be back soon for the thin crust pizza which was outstanding.

Have your next meeting with a view in their private room or sit by the fireplace and enjoy a cocktail.

Spend the holidays with Cafe Del Rey and your entire party will be full of good cheer! Join them on Wednesday for Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve and ring in the good times together.

 VIDEO: My Meal at Cafe Del Rey

Lovely weather @cafedelrey looking forward to lunch!

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 12:52pm PST

Main dining room @cafedelrey #MarinaDelRey come join us! A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 12:57pm PST

View from the main dining room @cafedelrey what a view! #visitMarinadelrey

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:01pm PST

Chicken pesto pizza: grilled chicken, pesto, mozzarella, spinach, tomato @cafedelrey #visitmarinadelrey #Amazing! A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:19pm PST

Grilled swordfish: curry, cilantro, faro, cucumber, edamame, haricot very, harissa vinaigrette

Incredibly delicate and tasty @cafedelrey #visitmarinadelrey

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:46pm PST

Striped bass: celery, carrots, pearl onion, guanciale, potato, quinoa, creamy tomato nage #VisitMarinaDelRey @cafedelrey crispy skin and tender moist fish. Delicious and love the carrots. A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:01pm PST

Chocolate tower: dark chocolate cake, hazelnut praline mousse, orange sauce

#Decadent and #delicious and #nutritious? #visitmarinadelrey @cafedelrey

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:18pm PST

xxx

 

CAFE DEL REY CRAFTS RUSTIC HOLIDAY FARE FOR CHRISTMAS EVE AND NEW YEAR’S EVE ON WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24 & WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 31

Executive Chef Chuck Abair curates rustic menus of Black Truffle Pasta, Crispy Octopus, and Braised Short Ribs to celebrate the holidays ($60-85*) and usher in 2015

WHAT:                   On Christmas Eve, Wednesday, December 24, from 11:30am – 7:30pm,CAFE del REY, the city’s iconic waterfront dining destination overlooking the Marina, invites guests to celebrate the holidays with a festive three-course prix-fixe menu ($60*) of rustic cuisine.Executive Chef Chuck Abair pairs elements of land and sea in dishes such as Black Truffle Pasta with confit turkey, trinity, arugula, and a white wine sauce; Braised Short Ribs with potato pave, roasted shallots, braised cabbage, and sauce au poivre; and Crispy Octopus with fennel, mushrooms, arugula, and chipotle aioli. Abair rounds out the offerings with a selection of festive desserts including Eggnog Crème Brûlée with gingerbread cookies and Pumpkin Bread Puddingwith pumpkin brittle and tres leches sauce.

On Wednesday, December 31, from 5:00pm – 10:00pm, CAFE del REY welcomes the New Yearwith a three-course NYE prix-fixe dinner menu ($85**) featuring hearty dishes such as Butternut Squash Soup with grilled shrimp, pumpkin seed, and pumpkin seed oil; Roasted Chicken with cranberry beans, buttermilk biscuits, dandelion greens, and mushroom gravy; and Rack of Lambwith risotto, cauliflower, broccolini, spiced pistachios, and lamb jus. Abair ends the menu on a sweet note with Kir Royal Tart with champagne sabayon, and raspberry compote and Chocolate Mousse with roasted plum peppermint bark, and plum reduction.

WHEN:                  Christmas Eve, Wednesday, December 24, 2014

The three-course prix-fixe menu will be available from 11:30am – 7:30pm

New Year’s Eve, Wednesday, December 31, 2014

The three-course prix-fixe menu will be available from 5:00pm – 10:00pm

In addition to the prix-fixe menus, à la carte items will be offered in the lounge

WHERE:               CAFE del REY 4451 Admiralty Way  Marina del Rey, CA 90292

ABOUT CAFE DEL REY:

Located in Marina del Rey, directly along the marina docks, CAFE del REY offers seasonal dishes that focus on the flavors of California with influences from the Mediterranean region by Executive Chef Chuck Abair. Previously sous chef to Chef Michael Cimarusti at Providence, Abair brings his seafood-driven background to CAFE del REY crafting menus that highlight the bright flavors of the season and emphasize an abundance of seafood paired with housemade ingredients. With unparalleled views of the harbor and a naturally lit, vibrant interior, CAFE del REY provides diners with a casually sophisticated dining experience, representative of the best of what Southern California has to offer in both cuisine and ambiance. Just a 10-minute drive from Los Angeles International Airport, yet ideally located along the tranquil Marina del Rey harbor, CAFE del REY is convenient for both visitors and locals alike. For additional information, please call 310.823.6395, or visit www.cafedelreymarina.com. Like and follow CAFE del REY on Facebook and Twitter.

The post Cafe Del Rey Stunning Views in Marina Del Rey appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Wild Magic in the UK

Wild Magic

By Christina Tang-Bernas

 

The gray clouds pressed down in the steely sky above the Welsh coastline, damp winds wrapping around our throats and threatening imminent rain. Arthur’s Stone balanced before me, complete with a deep slit sliced into it. Per our guide’s instructions, I rubbed my hands together and pressed them to the hard surface. The logical side of my mind scoffed at the cheesiness of the situation. I pushed it aside and closed my eyes, imagining the latent energy coiled within this massive ancient stone. Whether or not King Arthur had pulled his sword from its depths, or even if King Arthur ever existed, didn’t detract from the sheer number of years this rock had weathered. After five slow breaths, I pulled away to let another have their turn. 

As we tromped back to our tour bus through the tall grass, a herd of wild horses wandered along. Only ten or so, a few babies wobble-kneed beside their mothers. They paid little attention to our small group clicking away, cameras pressed to our eyes or held out in front of our faces.  Only one stopped, a bit separate from the rest. His dark ragged mane draped over his neck and onto his shoulders, thick winter coat patchy with the oncoming spring. Most striking, however, were his piercing blue eyes, the pristine blue found in the shallow water-pools we’d waded through half a year ago in Pamukkale, Turkey.

We’d stepped onto an airplane bound for Bangkok nine months before, unsure of whether we were doing the right thing. We’d given up our apartment and two steady decent-paying jobs, put everything we owned into storage except what could fit into two carry-on suitcases and backpacks, and taken off with our hearts in our throats. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for on this trip. Myself? My future? My faith? All or none of the above?  All I knew as the plane rumbled down the runway was that I didn’t want to live with any regrets, and that my husband agreed.

We wandered through country after country, their cultures and histories and presence clinging to us as we passed, and now we were in Wales. I’d longed to return since our honeymoon four years previous, remembering the crumbled grandeur of Tintern Abbey and the bare bones of a long-ago Roman amphitheater pressed into the ground. This time we’d wanted to explore the rocky coast, cliffs of bare stone topped with unruly grasses.

Which led to me, standing here, my hands still tingling from pressing them against Arthur’s Stone. Wild magic rose up, enclosing me and the shaggy chestnut blue-eyed horse in its embrace. I couldn’t see any fear in those striking eyes, only a calm peace that comes from being fully in its element.

Yes, I thought. Yes.  Any doubts that still sought sanctuary in the chambers of my heart melted under the onslaught. We’d made it through three-quarters of a year on our own, in parts of the world I’d only dreamed of before under the cover of night. And not only had we survived, we’d transformed. This was a magic all on its own, contained within the confines of my skin. Whether or not I’d been looking for it.

The horse tossed its head, snorted, and moved away to catch up with the rest of its brethren. My husband laced his fingers through mine, and together we headed towards our waiting bus.

About the Author:

Christina Tang-Bernas recently spent ten months absorbing all sorts of intriguing ideas in her travels around the world. Her work has appeared in Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Still Points Arts Quarterly, 3Elements Review, and Women Arts Quarterly Journal. 

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

 

The post Wild Magic in the UK appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

The Importance of Roots in Taiwan

 

In Taiwan, there is a literal tree house. Branches of a banyan tree curve around the building and hold up the entire structure. If you walk inside the tree house and look up, there is no roof. Instead, a lush dark green canopy of leaves grows overhead. But it’s not the emerald leaves that are the most distinctive trait of the banyan. The amazing feature of this tree belongs to its thick, sturdy roots.

They rise tall into the air, up to 100 feet high, and zigzag in wild directions. The banyan’s aerial roots drop down from above, sprouting wherever they touch the ground. Although twisted, these roots are strong and tough. The solid roots are what support the building in Taiwan, allowing the historical site to remain open to visitors.

Roots are what allow people to stand up strong and courageous as well. Though our roots are not exposed like the banyan tree, they create the stable core of our lives. Our roots, our heritage, our background, affect us and mold us just as surely as roots define the shape of a tree.

Sometimes, like the banyan, we graft onto others. Banyan seeds can sprout on top of different trees or in the crevices of buildings. People are also intertwined with those around them. This often happens in marriage, and that was the case with me. My identity has been shaped by bonding with my husband’s family. Through the tight connection, I ended up visiting their homeland of Taiwan. It’s a journey I’m grateful for because hearing my relatives’ stories and seeing the actual land changed me.

Taiwan is an island consisting of bustling urban centers, alongside natural wonders. Marked by a crystal-clear lake in its center, unique beaches topped with coral and black sand, and imposing mountains that challenge even the toughest climbers, it’s a tropical paradise full of variety. In fact, when Portuguese sailors first saw it, they called Taiwan, “the beautiful island.” But behind that scenic veil lie hidden stories and secret roots.

Before Chinese rule, Taiwan was governed by fifty years of Japanese leadership. The transition to new rulers was not smooth. During that time, there occurred the little-known 228 Incident, which led to a series of heartbreaking events.

Tragedy lurks beneath beauty sometimes. The atrocities were not spoken about for many years. However, Taiwan has grown from these tragic events, not only surviving, but thriving. This is due to the truth, the pouring out of people’s stories that has happened within recent decades.

It is the truth that sets us free, as individuals and in groups. When we can be genuine, we are free. How am I truthful with myself personally? I embrace my dual heritage, both my Asian and American sides. I give credence to my inner passion, my creative spirit. Owning who I am gives me strength and drive to move forward in productive ways.

Seeing the Anping Tree House in Tainan, Taiwan brought me hope. In that special place, I saw the growing of roots stabilize an abandoned warehouse. Those roots upheld the building, just as our roots uphold us. Let us acknowledge the background and personal history within all of us, that sets us free to be who we are with pride and dignity.

About the Author:

Jennifer J. Chow is the author of The 228 Legacy, a novel which explores the emotional effects of The 228 Incident across generations in a Taiwanese-American family. It was a 2013 IndieFab Finalist from Foreword Reviews.

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

The post The Importance of Roots in Taiwan appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Dine at Freds at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills

Dine at Fred’s at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills which opened in October 2014.

Executive Chef Mark Strausman designed all the Fred’s menus for their New York City and Chicago locations. As he said,  “I always wanted to be a chef at a place that people regularly visit, rather than one they only go to for their anniversaries. Fred’s is versatile, you can come in for a chopped salad and a glass of iced tea, or you can order half the menu and share a bottle of Dom Pérignon. My culinary philosophy is to be creative with the best ingredients possible, but also not mess with them too much.”

This is the place for your next power lunch or show up for sunset cocktails on the terrace. Simple California ingredients are paired with Italian inspired recipes and the results are fantastic. Try what they are famous for like Mark’s Madison Avenue Salad and how can you resist Estelle’s Chicken Soup which is “Grandma’s recipe to cure colds and stay thin!”

Stroll up to the fifth floor and enjoy all the tastes on offer. You can also create your own gift basket to share what you have found with friends and family for the holidays!

 

Lunching @fredsatbarneys. @LoveBevHills

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 12:35pm PST

Eat “Estelle’s Chicken Soup: Grandma’s recipe to cure cold and stay thin!” @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 12:40pm PST

 

Sourdough was great! @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills #fashionatfreds

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:11pm PST

Local grass-fed angus beef burger With Belgium pommes frites! Amazing! @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:38pm PST

Penne di Farro Vegan Bolognese

Whole wheat penne tossed with a slowly simmered twelve-vegetable tomato sauce. Spectacularly tasty! @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 1:52pm PST

Design your own holiday basket! @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:15pm PST

Delight your senses and shop @barneysny and dine @fredsatbarneys @lovebevhills #BeverlyHills

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:21pm PST

Thanks to @vkanegai for a lovely lunch @fredsatbarneys! Happy holidays!

A photo posted by Lisa Niver (@wesaidgotravel) on Dec 12, 2014 at 2:36pm PST

Freds

The post Dine at Freds at Barneys New York in Beverly Hills appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Every Year, Malta

 

Christmas Day. The doorbell rings and my eldest brother Chris rushes in juggling a pile of presents.

 ‘Do you have any wrapping paper left?’ he whispers as I open the door.

 ‘Every year!’ I smile.  ‘Every year! What’s the point of wrapping Christmas presents here when we can all see what they are before you wrap them?!’

 ‘Shut up!’ he says as he starts frantically cutting off invisible tape with his teeth and hastily wrapping the gifts. ‘When did you fly in?’

 ‘Last night,’ I said as I helped him. ‘It was snowing heavily in Belgium.  I was so scared that the flight to Malta would be cancelled.’ My stomach churns at the thought of having had to spend Christmas on my own in Brussels.

 ‘At which level is Mum’s panic?’ he whispers.

 ‘Orange going on to red.  Bonita has already stolen a packet of bacon but I don’t think she has noticed yet.’   Bonita, the adorable family dog – notorious for stealing food with amazing rapidity.

 True to form, Chris had left his Christmas shopping to the last minute and made it to my parents’ house thirty minutes before Christmas lunch.  In the lounge room, the presents had already extended from below the Christmas tree on to the sideboard and on to the sofa. Every year, my sister Amy and I resist all calls from our four more practical brothers to switch to a ‘ChristKindl’ system whereby everyone buys a bigger present for just one person instead of each person buying a present for everyone.  Not that they are thrifty – they just stress so much about getting the right presents.   Especially Julian who always has the tendency to make a few present gaffes.  Every year, Amy and I stand our ground and there are literally tens of presents in the lounge room.

 Back in the kitchen, Mum’s Christmas panic is now flashing red.  The turkey is in the oven.  The lasagna is already cooked and smells delicious.   Matthew will bring the roast potatoes.   Yet I am in Mum’s bad books as I have not yet finished laying the table with the expensive cutlery and crockery that we are allowed to use just once a year.   Every year!

 The doorbell rings again and in runs nine-year old Sam who heads straight to the Christmas tree to eye his presents trying to guess what they are. The only grandchild in the family up until this year, he knows he is in a for a good haul. My brother Matthew and his wife Justine follow closely carrying their own load of presents and the hot dish of roast potatoes.  Julian and Maja are in next pushing the pram of their three-month old.  We all crowd around the pram.

 ‘Time for lunch!’ yells my mum for the third time.  ‘It will go cold.  I hope the turkey is not overdone,’ she frets.

 ‘It will be fine,’ assures her Dad who has brought out his finest white.   A scramble of chairs and we are all at the table for the first course.  Dad insists on all of us kneeling down as we listen to the live broadcast of the Pope’s Christmas blessing from the Vatican before we tuck in. The lasagna is amazing. I struggle between craving another piece and knowing there is so much more food coming. Every year!

 ‘First round of presents!’ shouts Andrew as we all take our drinks and rush to the lounge room.   ‘This one is from Julian to Sam,’ he says as he picks up a roundish parcel that looks very much like a bike helmet.   And so it is! A trendy red one to go with Sam’s new bike.   ‘From Amy to Chris’, ‘From Mum and Dad to Matthew’….and the list goes on.

 Now it is time for the main course.  We leave the lounge room for a while and go back to the kitchen as Julian pours us all another round of drinks.  Soon we are all making our own little piles of just-received presents.

 I do not want the day the end.   I do not want the Christmas holidays to end. I do not want to fly back. I have waited for this all year. The laughter, the food, the mayhem, the colours, the love, the freedom to be myself.   I am happy to travel round the world all year. Not for Christmas.   Christmas is at home. Every year.

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

The post Every Year, Malta appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Kansas Lightning

 We drove into Kansas during a thunderstorm, but it isn’t the thunder that I remember. It’s the lightning, almost purple, and the wind.

“In the days of the Frontier,” my host mom told me, “people were driven mad by these winds. They could already see the Rockies in the distance, but it took days until they reached them – if they ever did. And all the while, the winds were howling.”

The storm rocked the car. I thought of tornados and the Wizard of Oz. It didn’t seem unlikely at all that these winds could simply pick us up and drop us into an entirely new world. Actually, I felt as though that had happened already. I was a foreign exchange student and only sixteen years old, and I had never experienced anything like this at home in Germany.

The next morning, the air was perfectly still and clear. There was no trace left of the nightly weather; not even a few leaves on the long brown grass. It was winter, and there simply were no leaves left anywhere. The trees looked dead and the small pond in the farmhouse’s backyard was black beneath the low-hanging clouds.

I wandered through the empty, silent farmhouse while my host parents were still asleep. Both of them had grown up in the Midwest, even though they were living in Colorado when I came to stay with them. Up until this day, the spectacular scenery of the Rocky Mountains had been my only impression of the Unites States. I had written excited e-mails describing the steepness of the slopes and the colorful wild flowers and the river fittingly named Roaring Fork for the thundering noise of its water and the way it forked and twisted around bends and little islands. In one of those mails to my friends and family, I might even have said something like “I’m so glad I didn’t end up on the Great Plains!”.

Yet as I stood by the window on that day after the lilac-lightning almost-tornado and looked out at the winter landscape, it dawned on me how much I’d underestimated this part of the country.

At some point in the meantime, the wind had picked up again; as a whisper this time instead of a howl. I could hear it from behind the window. It sounded like endlessness and opportunity and half-lost dreams. If I had been sent to Kansas for my year abroad, I realized then, I would have loved this place just as much as any other. Places become important because of the experiences we gain there, and as long as we keep our eyes and minds open, there are beauty and experiences to be found anywhere – even in Kansas in the midst of winter, for these are the other things I remember from that short holiday: the stars of Orion glittering undisturbed by any artificial light, puzzles and laughter with my host parents, and the Christmas decorations all over Kansas City, which turned out to be part of the same world after all.

About the author: Marie H. Mittmann loves writing, travelling, and occasionally writing about her travels. She is a student of Media and Communication Studies and the author of several short stories, both in English and in German.

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

 

The post Kansas Lightning appeared first on We Said Go Travel.