Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 358

Alma Del Barrio: First Annual Salsa Fest this Sunday

Life is better when you dance, so come dance

SUNDAY OCTOBER 26, 2014

@ The Lawton Plaza, adjacent to LMU Library

with four top LA Bands:

Jose “Perico” Hernandez y Son de la Tierra

Cal State LA Afro-Latin Ensemble

The Echo Park Project

Son Mayor

FREE Lesson 11:20-11:50am with 8x world champion Cristian Oviedo

You will find an amazing dance floor and delicious food vendors.

FREE parking at the parking structure.

FREE entrance! Que siga la rumba!!!

RSVP

Please share spread the word about this wonderful salsa & family friendly event—NO ALCOHOL IS PERMITTED

“Alma Del Barrio has been on the Los Angeles airwaves since the fall of 1973, when it was started by Enrique “Kiki” Soto and Raul Villa, then students at the Weschester campus of Loyola Marymount University. KXLU 88.9 Los Angeles is a LMU radio station licensed by the Federal Communiations Commission (FCC) to be a non-commercial, educational station. It has been assigned a radiating power of 3000 watts, which means its reach is limited, but for those living on the west side or surrounding areas, it is truly a great treat and something you should NOT be missing out on!

 

Alma Del Barrio is a radio program that aims to educate its listening audience on the type of music that it is listening to, its roots, its artists, its history and its cultural importance. Guests on the show also discuss ranging topics within the Latino culture, such as Latino film, Latino poetry, Latino painting, etc. The show is transmitted in English and Spanish, simultaneously, and listeners can also call in to make requests.

 

The current on-air staff of Alma Del Barrio includes Gustavo Aragon, Cristina Banuelos, Andres Buritica, Jose Cristobal, Joaquin del Torro, Guido Herrera, Laura Herrera, Rosalva Lara, Eddie Lopez, Albert Price, Jose Sandigo, and Kat Soto.

 

Tune in and listen to Alma Del Barrio! Make it a part of who you are every weekend. ¡Que siga la Rumba!” From Salsa Hook

 Want to know more about salsa in Los Angeles? Read Lisa’s article on 10best places to dance salsa in USA Today.

 

The post Alma Del Barrio: First Annual Salsa Fest this Sunday appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

All to catch a glimpse of an Arctic sunset

 All to catch a glimpse of an Arctic sunset

The last time I excitedly went into a rant about the race, 78° North and how incredible it’s going to be (whilst on crutches) a mountain guide replied “you can forget about it”. Something I was refusing to consider, never mind accept. Well that was it.I thought that choosing a sport to fall in love with was a pretty safe option. I wasn’t expecting to have to ‘put it on hold’ so quickly and I definitely wasn’t expecting to get my heart crushed in the process.

It was a Sunday, following Nordic tradition I wanted so badly to take a hike. Here in Norway, Sunday is family day. Everything closes. Locals grab their boots or their cross country skis and head out for a day of thrilling adventure in this magnificent Arctic land. It was the most glorious day of the season, the sun was so epically lighting up the fjord and I was in work, bursting with energy ready for 3pm to hit so that I could dart up the mountain Storhaugen and sit on the snow covered rocks just in time for the sun to set behind the mountains. Pretty soon the sun won’t set in the Arctic, I just wanted to take it all in while I had the chance. It’s pretty overwhelming. Getting up the mountain was all too easy that day, even with the large amounts of new snowfall.

I remember sitting there in the midst of it all, the sun was setting, I was this tiny, insignificant human sitting in amongst the silence of this mountain, a mountain so full of personality and danger, me alone, with a full view of one of the world’s most spectacular landscapes. All thought evaporated from my mind as the sun disappeared behind the Lyngen Alps. It was an unforgettable moment. The next few hours is still a bit of a blur to me. Feeling rejuvenated and high on life itself I strapped my snow shoes back on and attempted the climb back down. It’s hard to judge which way is safest, or simplest. It’s steep. I was bracing myself for quite a few falls but I hadn’t considered there’d be one fall that may corrupt the next few weeks of my life. I started following ski tracks, all tracks will lead me home, to the lodge. I got back to the tree line fairly prompt and thought, at least I was half way down. But this is where the difficulty started, I could no longer see the lodge. Snow was getting deeper, I had to venture off the tracks as they were becoming too steep to follow. I fell. I pulled myself back up. I fell again. I was starting to get a little frantic and frustrated about this on-going situation but I continued on, completely unaware that the worst was yet to come. I remember thinking, it’s going to be so good to come home, to put my feet up, relax. Beside a roaring fire. Not far to go. Doing my best attempt at remaining calm. It came to be so steep that I had no option than to try and shuffle down on my bum! I pulled myself back onto my feet, holding on to a tree, trying carefully to plan my route. The next few steps were crucial.

The snow caved beneath my feet and all before I had a chance to control it, I was stuck, up to my chest in snow. I couldn’t pull myself out, my arms were also collapsing into the snow, there was this moment where I was just.. swimming. I took one of my snow shoes off and put it behind my head in order to pull myself out properly, it was a struggle but I managed, I had to. Without realizing that I’d wriggled so much that my foot came out of my shoe and there was me, foot covered in ice. it was -17° down on the coast that day, I don’t even want to know how much colder it was up in the mountain. My sock had froze solid in a matter of seconds. I took my ski gloves off and tried frantically to search for my missing boot down this 5ft hole. It was well and truly buried. I managed to dig, with numb hands until I found it but it was so frozen and stuck that getting it out wasn’t an option. At least not with frozen fingers. I wrapped my foot up in a cardigan and tied it inside the bottom of my celopets, I put one snow shoe under my arm, threw my backpack around me, grabbed my poles and attempted to move forward. Highly concerned for my left foot as I dragged it on through the snow. It felt like dragging a brick. I didn’t want to call for help. I put it off for quite a while before noticing the darkness approaching all too quickly and I simply couldn’t get down without the help of somebody. I still hadn’t realized the severity of it all. I thought it was just a case of getting someone to run up and give me a new boot so that I could walk home.

I called my colleague, she answered immediately even though she was mid shift, I could tell she was worried, they’d expected me to be home hours ago. My battery was dying, I couldn’t see the lodge, I had lost all sense of direction, I was freezing cold, I couldn’t feel my foot, or my hands, I was beginning to feel faint, I was covered in blood after unknowingly ripping my stitches from a nasty bread knife cut a few days previously. Basically, I was in the sh*t. Trying to sound calm and fine on the phone was hard, my voice was beginning to shake and I was trying so hard not to cry as I announced “This might sound silly…. but I think I need help…”Before I knew it my boss/experienced mountain guide was straight on the case. He took over and asked me where I was, my surroundings were literally just trees and snow, I could be anywhere! He told me that he couldn’t come looking for me in the hope that I would keep moving. Very smart of him to do so, because… I did keep moving. I have no idea how I kept moving, but I did. Then he called back, he told me to look out for his head torch through the trees, and to listen out for whistles. I was panicking a lot at this stage because I couldn’t hear or see anything for the next 10-20 minutes. The longest minutes of my life.

Finally! The moment that my heart almost stopped just from sheer and honest relief. I saw the head torch, and I saw these strong men come to my rescue. Another guide grabbed a hold of me and sat me down, wrapped me up in layers of coats,  and took hold of my frozen foot. I was shivering like mad, feeling like I was about to loose consciousness. No part of this felt in any way real to me, it felt like I was apart of a horribly realistic dream. My boss got on the radio to my manager who was following close behind with a spare boot and hot drinks. He gave her our exact location and a heads up on the situation.…. By this time I was passed out, I was slightly confused as to why there was an extra person approaching in the distance. They tested my consciousness and got me back down to safe ground. The sight of my team members was enough to make me cry, after being brave and withholding the floods all this time. They got me sat down and out of my clothes, they then inspected my foot to see quite obviously that it was frostbitten. Immediately, they started the defrosting process. It was all very incredible to watch. My initial thought was, ‘Oh God, I’m going to lose my foot’. It was bad, I was a little terrified even though everyone was trying to make me believe that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. When my foot was taken out of the pot of water, it was the darkest purple. It hurt like hell, the next 48 hours of my life were excruciating. I’ve never even imagined pain like that never mind experienced it. So that’s the story of how my dream was shattered in an instant. How one simple decision can effect your life massively. How I came to realize how fortunate I really am. Even though I can’t walk and I can’t work. I’m just glad that I WILL be able to walk again, I am alive. Never again will I take anything in my life for granted and I have learned the true importance of friendship. I have a lot to be thankful for. It may be a while before I take on Storhaugen again. Despite the fact I could have lost my life to it, this mountain will always have a strong place in my heart.“sånn er livet” in Norwegian is the expression of acceptance of misfortune. A phrase we’ve become all too aware of this stirring winter. And to most of us “that’s life.”

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

The post All to catch a glimpse of an Arctic sunset appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Daughters to Zion

            I stood in awe at the grandeur before me.  Nature had taken the flat Utah desert as her canvas.  With sand, water, and an abundance of time as the palette, the result was a masterpiece, Zion National Park.

            As our car rested in front of a cabin in Springdale, Utah,  a free bus shuttled us to the park.  I sat smiling enthusiastically as the bus rumbled past brown brick buildings blending between mountains of rock that ruled this domain.  Koren, thirteen, wasn’t impressed.  She fussed with the cap on my balding head.  Channie, a college freshman, adjusted her camera in preparation of getting the best picture. 

            Walking through the park’s entrance, Channie pointed her camera at the bubbly Virgin River.  It flows between massive multicolored vertical cliffs.  A river, which could be jumped in two leaps, etched out a deep canyon and valley of life. 

            A paved path led us to Emerald Pools. Soon the pavement was gone, a steep dirt incline took its place, and we climbed a canyon cliff.  Channie grabbed hold of my belt loops in anticipation that I would haul her up the mountain.  “Who you kidding?” I asked.

            “Come on Daddy, I’m tired.” I looked at the clear blue sky with a wisp of a cloud above the canyon floor. A wall of dark clouds threatened on the horizon.

            Koren ran ahead leading us to a series of basins carved into a rock ledge by flowing water.  “Hey, look at that waterfall.”  She kicked the sand and knelt to touch it.  “Daddy, this stuff feels so soft and silky.  I could almost walk in it barefoot.”

            For a brief time, we were the only hikers.  It was a silent refuge from the bustle of the city we left behind.  Only the sound of falling water broke the silence of the Emerald Pools.

            The next morning, after an evening shower, the air smelled pure.  We returned to the park and walked Weeping Rock Trail, an easy under a mile hike where springs drip from overhead.  It runs along a short steep paved path through a canyon of hanging gardens of wildflowers decorating the walls.  Koren and Channie marveled at the golden and western columbine, scarlet monkey flower, and maidenhair fern.  Then they took off around the bend.

            My daughters patiently waited for me at the end of the trail leading to weeping rock.  “You guys have a lot of energy today,” I said.

            “Yeah, yeah, just come over here and look at this,” Koren said.

            She pointed to a huge sandstone rock dripping with water.  Channie felt the wall of stone that supported the crying mountain. “It feels as soft as a baby’s butt.”

            “When was the last time you felt a baby’s butt, Dork?” Koren admonished.                      

             Redirecting, I asked, “What are your senses telling you?”

            “I can hear the drip, drip, drip of the overhanging rock,” said Channie.

            “And I can hear the babbling brook down below,” Koren added.

            We breathed in the air, free of city pollutants.  I looked upward and saw a jet painting its white tail across the blue sky. Since it was a hot day, we returned to our lodge, dressed for the pool and raced each other until we were winded. The next morning we packed our things and were off to Bryce National Park.

            Mt. Carmel Tunnel highlighted the 90-minute trip to Bryce. This engineering marvel of the 1920’s was built through solid rock connecting lower Zion Canyon with the high plateaus of the east.  The narrow mile long tunnel was drilled and blasted through the cliffs.

            At Bryce Channie noticed the hoodoos.  “They look like sand castles we used to make along the beach.”  Hoodoos are bright orange pillars of sandstone of fantastic shape, left by erosion. 

            At Bryce Amphitheater, the largest natural amphitheater in the park,  Channie said, “Here we have to look down into the canyon.  At Zion we looked up.  Hiking around here should be easier.”

            Unlike Zion, there is little vegetation at Bryce.  We noted faces and animals carved into rock.  After descending a winding path Channie looked wide-eyed at the canyon walls. “We have to climb back up that thing?  Where’s the elevator?”

            Our hearts pumped, the sweat poured, but after 2 1/2 hours we completed our hike.  Koren ran around bends performing jumping jacks as she waited for us.  “Oh, to be young again,” my elder daughter mused.

            Like all vacations, we had a lot more to see, but we had to return home.  In the car, we occupied ourselves with word games for amusement. It was fun and we laughed for 500 miles.

Michael L. Thal, an accomplished freelancer, is the author of The Legend of Koolura, Koolura and the Mystery at Camp Saddleback, The Abduction of Joshua Bloom and Goodbye Tchaikovsky. He has written and published over eighty articles for magazines and newspapers including Highlights for Children, The Los Angeles Times, and San Diego Family Magazine.

 

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

The post Daughters to Zion appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Mountain Gratitudes in the USA

First Rights

My brain fog had barely lifted as we drove into the mountains of New Mexico. The majesty of the Sangre de Cristo reached out to touch the raw places of my soul, and I breathed deeply of the aspen-filled air.

Barely six months after the final divorce papers were signed, I escaped with my siblings for a week to the small mountain town of Red River, New Mexico. Nestled in a verdant valley, I felt safe in its womb of pine cones, deer that walked through town and the absence of any type of urban sprawl. No McDonald’s. No Quik Trip. Just the peace of the mountains and the opportunity to start over single.

After we settled into our cabin, I carried my journal outside, marveling that I needed my jacket in the latter part of July. Back home in Kansas, I would have sweated through another 90 percent humidity day, but in the enchanted mountains of New Mexico, the air remained cool and clear.

I felt as if I could finally breathe. Propping my journal onto a picnic table, I recorded the sights and sounds that I knew would lead to soul healing: the babbling of the river as it carried trout to the nearby lake, the buzz of a hummingbird as it fought intruders battling for fresh sugar water, pink columbine and wild daisies weaving together near the cabin’s entrance, the afternoon rain cloud that played peekaboo over the tips of the treeline.

This was the fifteenth year our family vacationed in Red River yet it was my first year as a single mom. My grown son stayed home to work, and secretly I was glad. I needed alone time to reflect on my new identity and try to discern what life now held for me.

Still a bit shell-shocked from my battered emotions, I determined not to dwell on lawyer’s fees, the necessary sale of the divorce house or my fears of what the future might hold. I would instead focus on what I could be grateful for and fill my journal with helpful words rather than pain.

So I recorded my gratitude for siblings who realized I needed time with my journal, for a new pen to write out my thoughts, for the lessons about independence I was learning after twenty-five years of marriage. I watched the ink form around my doodles as I wrote thank you’s for the silence of the mountains. No traffic or blaring horns. An occasional laugh from a neighboring cabin – the sound of joy that gladdened my heart.

I listed new goals for this infant stage of life: to work on a new book and seek a publisher, to refuse any seeds of bitterness or shades of false guilt, to hug my son every day and remind him he was dearly loved. My determination to save more money, to pay off debts, to possibly buy another house some day spurred me on to challenge myself toward positivity. I would need to work two jobs, but I still had my health and I would somehow find the energy.

In fact, within the verdure of those mountains, I felt invincible. Where heat and struggle had depleted my inner resources, this location instilled a boldness to move beyond the battle and jump toward the finish line. I would find my strength again. I would conquer fears, doubts and the unknown risks that lay ahead. Somehow I would find the fortitude to believe in myself again and force behind me the failures of the past.

Throughout that blessed week, I often returned to that same table with my journal. Admittedly, sometimes I did record some of the pain, then cried over it and inked through it. It felt good to cross out the negatives and beside them write something good. Instead of despair, I sought hope. Refusing bitterness, I began to forgive.

Through the writing and the breathing in of mountain air, I felt younger and alive again. I knew challenges waited for me back in Kansas, but for those seven days in New Mexico, I once again believed that I would not only survive – but indeed – I would thrive.

I felt stronger than I had in months, grateful for the opportunity to come away from the pain and dwell on creating words within the beauty of God’s mountain creation. Within the focus on gratitude, in that precious place of serenity, the raw places inside healed over and the scars became a topography of hope.

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

The post Mountain Gratitudes in the USA appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Clothes to Grow Into in Nicaragua

I memorized all English-language warnings before I left.  Keep your important documents in a money belt close to your body.  Bring change so you don’t have to pull out a large bill.  Don’t wear jewelry or nice clothing.  Carry your backpack on the front of your body so it cannot get yanked or cut away.  Never walk alone.  Don’t hang your camera around your neck.  Never leave your hotel at night.  Yet, there I was, in a town square, snapping pictures of a church when I realized I had lost my friends.  I was alone in a strange and dangerous city.

I sat down on a bench hoping they would find me if I just didn’t move.  Despite my dirty-hostel-staying hair and complete lack of jewelry, I was approached by everyone: the lady with the watermelon slices she carried on top of her head, the man with heavy blankets draped over his arms and his shoulders, the guy pushing a homemade, rather broken cart full of candy, the woman with an overflowing handful of plastic bags filled with juice.  And I rigidly refused each of them, covering my money belt and hiding my camera.

A young boy approaches me and asks me what I am doing.  I guess he’s about eight years old wearing clothes he can grow into.  I tell him that I lost my friends.  “They will come back for you,” he assures me.  “Don’t be scared.”  Its adorable, his concern for me and I’m surprised that he can read my fear.   My pale skin and weird hair did not frighten him away, however, and this oddly puts me at ease.  And then he asks if he can shine my shoes.

“No,” I say, trying to smile, “These are sandals.  You can’t shine sandals.”  I wanted him to go away, but I wanted him to stay.  I wished he was just a kid.  I could not, with any sense of justice, let this child shine my shoes.  “You will see”, he says, “I will make them beautiful.  Please.”

I swear I felt my heart turn to lead when I handed him the filthy sandal.

But then I thought of the many times when I, as a kid, would earn a quarter and run with joy to the store around the corner to buy some candy, remembering how it felt to skip back to my street with a little brown bag stuffed full of glorious, sweet, colorful sugar.  While he scuffs and wipes, I try my best to talk to him about kid stuff in broken Spanish.  He kindly corrects my words without judgment, like no adult ever would.

Another younger boy comes over, his brother.  He seems shy or suspicious of me and sits a safe distance away, sneaking glances in my direction, but never making direct eye contact.  I don’t blame him; I don’t look like anyone else around here.  How old is your little brother?  “No sé”; I don’t know.  Well, how old are you?  “No sé.”  When is your birthday?  “No sé”, he shrugs casually.

My friends find me and the boy is genuinely as happy about this as I am.  Even the tiny one lets out a sly half-smile.  We pour coins into their hands, more than the cost, but much less than we could spare.  And we ask, “What are you going to buy?”  He looked up, smiling huge, the way I must have smiled on my way to the candy store with a quarter, and he replied, “I’m going to get shoes someday”.  My eyes dropped and for the first time I noticed his bare feet.  And my head just remained fixed in that downward position.  He did not ask to shine anymore shoes and he just walked away across the hot cement with his wooden kit in his hand and his silent little brother a few paces behind.

I realized then that all the fear-inspiring travel warnings I had been adhering to had ironically been what robbed me.   Holding on so tightly to what I possessed, I missed the chance to appreciate what I had, what I had to share, and what I had to learn.  This little man showed more compassion and humanity to me than I had offered anyone that day.  That shoeless boy with no birthday changed my life.

About the Author:

Tina Murty is a waitress who saves all of her money to travel.  She never walks alone down dark alleys, but also never again refuses the chance to chat with a woman carrying watermelon slices on her head.

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

The post Clothes to Grow Into in Nicaragua appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

USA Today: 10Best Spas in Los Angeles: Part 3

Hidden Gems and High End Treatments: The 10Best of Los Angeles Spas
by Lisa Niver

Many times in the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, Stars need a place relax and hide-away. Whether you are a famous celebrity or just want to be treated like a VIP, here are 10 of the best places to find spa serenity. Ready to feel like royalty? Have a massage at the Hotel Bel Air in a room with a private outdoor patio and Spa tea. Having a luxury hotel experience that feels like a sanctuary is perfect at The Ritz Carlton, Beverly Hills Hotel, Sunset Marquis, InterContinental Hotel and Luxe Sunset Boulevard. After just one Spa Massage at these hotels, you may feel that you have had a multi-day vacation. If you want to stroll in the sand immediately after your treatment, choose Casa Del Mar. If you prefer your celebrity moment to be in a private hideaway, choose Skin and Body Retreat where you will be the only client luxuriating in Los Angeles. To steal a relaxing spa hour during the daytime downtown, enjoy The LA Mart Day Spa at the Reef. For one of the best professional massages available in Los Angeles, experience bliss at Bechtel Physical Therapy. You can be a star in your own life with your choices. Enjoy ten of the best places in Los Angeles for treatment tranquility and choose to put your need to relax in the hands of these caring spa specialists.

 

10 Sea Wellness Spa at Casa Del Mar

The Sanctuary at the Sea Wellness Spa feels like an upscale living area with the Zen fountain you always wanted your house to have. Tea, fruit, and water are available so you can relax and read, before your heavenly treatments. Casa Del Mar was opened on May 1, 1926 as a beach club. It was a recreation center for US service personnel during World War II and was again a beach club in the 1950s. It reopened as a luxury hotel in October 1999. It is a member of both the Leading Hotels of the World and on the National Register of Historic Places and sits on a stunning section of Santa Monica Beach. (310-581-7767)

VIDEO:Santa Monica Beach: Hula Hooping and the Spa at Casa Del Mar

9 The LA Mart Day Spa at The Reef

The LA Mart Day Spa at The Reef is an ever-changing and always evolving Mini-Spa and Unique Boutique which offers signature spa services and a variety of gift ideas. The spa’s menu includes Relaxing Massage, Organic Facials, and VIP Manicures or Pedicures, with all services including the luxurious delights of aromatherapy and hot steam towels plus a complimentary spa gift for every guest featuring products locally made in California, in the USA & products featured by Women-Owned Businesses. The LA Mart Day Spa at The Reef has a Mini-Spa Services Menu for busy clients on the go, to get a quick treatment in while on lunch or after work, while traffic in LA rushes on. Guests are asked to phone or email The LA Mart Day Spa at The Reef for reservations or information on spa parties, treatment specials, gift giveaways, and invitations to VIP spa events. ((310) 722-4446)

8 Spa InterContinental

The Spa InterContinental on the Avenue of the Stars is close to all major Los Angeles tourist attractions. If you are looking for rest and relaxation, the central location in Century City could be the answer to your hotel prayers. Enjoy the Phalaenopsis Orchids, African Violets, Tillandsia Bromeliads and Vanda Floating Orchids in the lobby lounge. You may recognize this distinctive property from Gone Girl, the critically acclaimed thriller. The Spa is located near the pool and has outdoor space for relaxing before or after your treatments. Choose to have your spa treatment in one of the private villas which is especially lovely for two. ((310) 552-0425)

VIDEO: Spa InterContinental

Read the full article on USA Today!

Part 1 on WSGT & Part 2

The post USA Today: 10Best Spas in Los Angeles: Part 3 appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

The Healing Powers of San Gemini, Italy

I suffer from a long term chronic illness which affects my health severely. In 2009 I was convinced to get away from my home town and start anew in North Queensland. The move initially helped but after the excitement of a new place wore off my health continued to degrade. Soon I could not concentrate on anything, I slept most of the time, and I was continuously fatigued. As a result my first semester of grades from university suffered dramatically. I decided I needed to do something drastic to try and change what was happening to me. Around the same time I was perusing the internet looking for answers I received an email. It was asking for applications to an archaeological ceramics program in Italy. I applied in the heat of the moment, thinking there is no way I would be accepted, let alone able to fund such a trip. I applied anyway and before I knew it I was on a plane to Rome.

I was a mere 19 years old on my first ever international adventure, solo. Needless to say I was extremely anxious to land in Rome and get to the small commune I would be staying at, about 1 hour northwest of Rome. The town I was heading to was San Gemini, known for its healing water (at the time I did not know this). When I arrived at San Gemini, around midnight, I had no idea of the surrounds and was very tired from my long 40 hour journey, so I just went to bed. When I awoke I looked out of the window above my bed and was surprised to learn that my bedroom was at the top of the village and overlooked the entire valley and beyond. It had been the most beautiful site I had ever seen.  This particular site gave me this feeling inside – this indescribable feeling that has lead to what I now recognise as wanderlust.

The six (not very long) weeks I was in Italy, I felt alive. I was not fatigued, I was not anxious, I did not have an inability to concentrate, and I slept with absolute ease. I visited as many places as I could, attended as many cultural events as I could, and ate as much pizza and gelato as I could. I felt what real freedom feels like. This random spur of the moment decision to leave everything I knew and experience a whole new world had actually begun to heal me. I had no symptoms. Other than my chronic illness practically disappearing, my acne was gone, and my hair and nails were healthy. It was completely new to me. I originally put it down to the travel experience, but now after learning more about San Gemini’s history, I believe it had something to do with the water. This healing mineral water is even bottled and shipped around the world. After getting back to Australia, my health started to deteriorate again. It was upsetting to say the least. I decided that I would travel as much as possible for the rest of my life so that I never lost that feeling. Travel for me is hope. Hope that I will not always feel like I can’t do anything. Whenever I get down I think about that first international trip I took and remember that this illness is not permanent and there is hope.

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

The post The Healing Powers of San Gemini, Italy appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Holiday in an English Cottage in a Quaint Village

England is famous for its lovely, pristine natural environs with pretty backdrops. Quaint villages surrounded by green hills and rustic coastal towns are characteristic of the English countryside. Doesn’t “English countryside lifestyle” conjure images of idyllic stone and thatch roofed cottages, rural farms, unspoiled landscape and scenic ocean views? In other words, the perfect escape from the hassle and bustle of city living!

The next time you plan your vacation, you may want to check out English self-catering holiday cottages to live that dream of a blissful retreat in a home away from home.

A wide selection of cottages, country homes, farmhouses are offered for rent throughout England. These lodgings have retained their character and many, their period charm, despite being restored to provide modern conveniences. Many are of high standard with excellent facilities. The best choice for you will depend on your interests and preferences.

If you love the sea, get a cottage located in England’s coastal areas. There are cottages with picturesque sea views, near the beach or fishing harbors in the counties along the Southern coastline, from Cornwall to Kent, including the Jurassic coast in Dorset, which is a world heritage site. Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up to the smell of fresh sea breeze, laze around or walk with your dog on the beach during the day, have your fill of authentic fish and chips and end your day watching beautiful sunsets?

For some freshwater relaxation during your stay, get a cottage with a private pool or one that is shared with other tenants of adjacent cottages.

Fishing enthusiasts on the other hand will delight in cottages located in Wiltshire, Herefordshire and Hampshire Avon. Those with children and looking for easy catch in a laid-back environment will enjoy private fishing in stocked carp ponds. For avid game fishers, South Devon along the River Dart is the best base.

If you’re a Robin Hood fan, a forest cottage would be the ideal choice. There are charming cottages in woodland areas in central Europe and you can even take an excursion to Nottingham for an up-close encounter with the legendary English folklore hero’s adventure land.

Those who fancy luxury will find lavish accommodations, most located in historical areas, truly gratifying. There are exquisite places in the illustrious towns of Bath, Stratford-upon-Avon and Ludlow. Romantic cottages in Dorset are great for couples looking to renew allure in their relationships.

For those who want to experience laissez-faire closer to London, rentals in Surrey, Berkshire and Buckinghamshire would be the best fit.

Whether for a short weekend break or for a month, for a couple, a family or a group of friends, self-catering accommodations suited to your taste (and budget) should be easy to find in England all year round. It may be good, though, to avoid peak periods like around summertime (April to September) and November to January, particularly during the Christmas and New Year holidays. Yet, if you plan your trip early enough, you should not have difficulty getting yourself billeted in a place best to your liking.

*****

Photo credits:

English Cottage: Karen Roe via Flickr

Dorset: Hardo Müller via Flickr

Beachy Head Sussex: YorkshirePhotoWalks via flickr

Countryside Pool: Kyle Taylor via Flickr

Forest of Dean: European Environment Agency via Flickr

Thatched Cottage: Supermac1961 via Flickr

Charming Farm House: David Sim via Flickr

The post Holiday in an English Cottage in a Quaint Village appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Vacationing English Style in Self-Catering Cottages

England is famous for its lovely, pristine natural environs with pretty backdrops. Quaint villages surrounded by green hills and rustic coastal towns are characteristic of the English countryside. Doesn’t “English countryside lifestyle” conjure images of idyllic stone and thatch roofed cottages, rural farms, unspoiled landscape and scenic ocean views? In other words, the perfect escape from the hassle and bustle of city living!

The next time you plan your vacation, you may want to check out English self-catering holiday cottages to live that dream of a blissful retreat in a home away from home.

A wide selection of cottages, country homes, farmhouses are offered for rent throughout England. These lodgings have retained their character and many, their period charm, despite being restored to provide modern conveniences. Many are of high standard with excellent facilities. The best choice for you will depend on your interests and preferences.

If you love the sea, get a cottage located in England’s coastal areas. There are cottages with picturesque sea views, near the beach or fishing harbors in the counties along the Southern coastline, from Cornwall to Kent, including the Jurassic coast in Dorset, which is a world heritage site. Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up to the smell of fresh sea breeze, laze around or walk with your dog on the beach during the day, have your fill of authentic fish and chips and end your day watching beautiful sunsets?

For some freshwater relaxation during your stay, get a cottage with a private pool or one that is shared with other tenants of adjacent cottages.

Fishing enthusiasts on the other hand will delight in cottages located in Wiltshire, Herefordshire and Hampshire Avon. Those with children and looking for easy catch in a laid-back environment will enjoy private fishing in stocked carp ponds. For avid game fishers, South Devon along the River Dart is the best base.

If you’re a Robin Hood fan, a forest cottage would be the ideal choice. There are charming cottages in woodland areas in central Europe and you can even take an excursion to Nottingham for an up-close encounter with the legendary English folklore hero’s adventure land.

Those who fancy luxury will find lavish accommodations, most located in historical areas, truly gratifying. There are exquisite places in the illustrious towns of Bath, Stratford-upon-Avon and Ludlow. Romantic cottages in Dorset are great for couples looking to renew allure in their relationships.

For those who want to experience laissez-faire closer to London, rentals in Surrey, Berkshire and Buckinghamshire would be the best fit.

Whether for a short weekend break or for a month, for a couple, a family or a group of friends, self-catering accommodations suited to your taste (and budget) should be easy to find in England all year round. It may be good, though, to avoid peak periods like around summertime (April to September) and November to January, particularly during the Christmas and New Year holidays. Yet, if you plan your trip early enough, you should not have difficulty getting yourself billeted in a place best to your liking.

*****

Photo credits:

English Cottage: Karen Roe via Flickr

Dorset: Hardo Müller via Flickr

Beachy Head Sussex: YorkshirePhotoWalks via flickr

Countryside Pool: Kyle Taylor via Flickr

Forest of Dean: European Environment Agency via Flickr

Thatched Cottage: Supermac1961 via Flickr

Charming Farm House: David Sim via Flickr

The post Vacationing English Style in Self-Catering Cottages appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

Winter’s Tale in Florida

Winter’s Tale:

Winter, for some visitors to Clearwater Beach, Florida is a season to escape but for others, especially those in need of inspiration, she’s an animal to seek out.
    
Named for the season in which she was rescued, Winter is an eight-year-old dolphin who is inspiring child amputees, Iraqi war vets and medical researchers interested in recent developments in prosthetic limbs.
    
At two months old, Winter got caught in a crab trap. By the time rescuers from the Clearwater Marine Aquarium found her, she was not expected to last the night, so severe were her cuts from the trap ropes. Fifty percent of the staff voted to euthanize her, but Winter persevered, minus her tail.
    
The plucky dolphin started swimming like a fish until experts realized these movements would cause spinal damage.  Next came the series of prosthetic tails to match her growth spurts and Winter learning to swim all over again.
    
As a result of her unfortunate accident and amazing recovery, Winter has become a bit of a media sensation even appearing on “Good Morning America”.
    
Everyday, visitors to the Clearwater Marine Aquarium can watch Winter interacting with her trainer, Allie Stone, as she adjusts to her new tails. The latest one features a stainless steel joint that propels her forward.
    
To the delight of Winter and her fans, Allie turns the exercise into a play session. Winter swims around the pool for a few minutes before returning to Allie for pettings and a few adjustments. She appears happy with the new appendage, ducking away when Allie tries to remove it.
    
Totally impressed with the show, visitors including children, have been donating toys to the dolphins and money to build Winter’s new home.  The larger, circular pool will allow Winter to swim continuously and provide a hospital emergency room for other rescued sea mammals like her dolphin friend, six-year-old Nicholas.
    
Nicholas, a 375 – pound a victim of severe sunburn, the result of a beaching, has been at the aquarium since he was orphaned at six months. Today, he shimmies around the pool in a series of comical forward thrusts while maintaining an upright position.
    
Spectators reach out to pet him before he darts away to grab a fish from Allie. The dark streaks running from his forehead to his dorsal fin are the only evidence of his life threatening sun exposure.
    
The show’s grand finale finds Nicholas competing with Rudy, a younger male dolphin, to see who can jump the highest and create the biggest splash, soaking the bolder kids who hug the edge of the pool. Who needs theme parks when young and old alike can enjoy the antics of these mammals at a fraction of the price while supporting a good cause?
    
Clearwater’s love and respect for her dolphins is also evident in the attitude of her tour boat operators. As a static burst of the ship’s radio advises of dolphin spottings at our six o’clock position, northern tourists rush to the back of the boat, anxiously scanning the powder blue and aqua horizon.
 “Dolphins are highly intelligent creatures and sometimes they’re just not in the mood to play. If that’s the case, we’re moving on”, Captain Jack announces.
    
 Fortunately, the duo, lured by the wake of the 40 – foot tug seem eager to follow, albeit from a safe distance. Moving along, Captain Jack reminds us of the strict rules protecting Florida dolphins.
    
Respecting the dolphins makes good business sense. If these Atlantic bottlenose feel threatened or pursued, they will abandon the area, or worse, beach their young. Most times, according to Captain Jack, the dolphins are happy to play in the wake of the boats and seem almost as curious about the visitors as they are about them. Indeed, scientists have made underwater recordings of dolphins mimicking the delighted squeals of tourists.
    
While visitors will never see Winter or Nicholas performing on the larger stage of  Clearwater Bay, successfully rehabilitated dolphins like Rudy, who have retained their hunting skills, will be playing here for years to come thanks to the staff of the Clearwater Marine Aquarium and the generous donations of loyal fans. 

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

The post Winter’s Tale in Florida appeared first on We Said Go Travel.