Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 404

Desert Nights in the USA

My boyfriend and I graduated from film school physically, mentally, and creatively exhausted. We needed to decompress from the frenzied year of filmmaking. We needed to get away from the city and deadlines. We needed to travel. As storytellers and amateur photographers, nothing is more rejuvenating or affordable than a road trip. Finally free, we packed all of our camping gear, photography equipment, a laptop with our scripts, a bird identification guide, and we hit the open road.

Driving through British Columbian wine country, Alberta’s majestic Waterton Lakes National Park, and the stunning Grasslands National Park in Saskatchewan, we uploaded photos and I was texting friends about work projects left behind or taken with us. We crossed into the United States and turned our cell phones off. Our epic tour of National Parks took us through the Beartooth Pass into Yellowstone, past the Grand Tetons, through Arches and Canyonlands, a wild, flash flood in Monument Valley, to a rare condor sighting at the Grand Canyon, and on a hot September evening, the most incredible desert sunset I’ve ever seen.

Rich oranges and pinks glowed through the Joshua tree forest as we drove into the Mojave National Preserve at dusk. Small, rolling mountains were sapphire blue against the setting sun. Usually when we’re on the road, we listen to music and discuss story ideas. After drinking sarsaparilla from Wyoming, we were pitching an idea about Wild West women while heading into our own sunset. And then we stopped talking. We turned the music off. We needed to make it to our campsite before dark, but it didn’t matter anymore. We pulled over.

We let the warm, dry air blow gravel dust around our feet. The sun was setting fast and time was running out to capture the perfect photograph. But we just stood there with our cameras, enjoying the moment. The Joshua trees were strange, with perplexing, fractal shapes silhouetted against the waning daylight. Grasses and wildflowers surrounded us, light reflecting off the creosote shrubs. There was no one else around. I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes. My anxiety about finding our camping spot melted away.

We drove carefully in the last light of the day, watching for desert tortoise on the dusty roads. In the Mojave, free camping sites are available in the desert wilderness. The challenge was to find one of the designated spots, difficult even in the full light of day. We finally stumbled across a gravel road leading to ring of rocks. Using our headlights to illuminate a small patch of sandy earth, we put our tent up in the cool, desert night, completely alone. There was nowhere to plug our technology in. We unpacked very little. I took my shoes off and watched the campfire flames glowing beneath so many stars. We listened to distant coyotes calling across our private piece of the Mojave Preserve. I peed outside in the sand. It was liberating.

Without alarm clocks, the morning sun woke me up. It was already getting hot. Like the animals around us, we found shade during the day. Inside the Kelso Depot museum we read fascinating stories about Mojave, my favourite being the early visitors who made tea out of the wildflowers, only to suffer hallucinations from the toxic nightshade blossoms. I’d photographed those same white flowers, Sacred Datura, earlier. They were so lush despite the intense heat. We hiked out to the Kelso sand dunes to hear them sing, but the heat was extreme and punishing. I’ve never had a drink of cool water feel so refreshing.

Driving back to our perfect camp site, we spotted a slow moving shape at the side of the road. Just as the sun was setting again on the world’s largest Joshua tree forest, a desert tortoise posed for us. I felt instantly protective, I wanted to move it off the road, but touching the tortoise can be fatal for them. We watched him slowly plod along in the orange light. I thought about how old it might be, maybe older than us. Back at our site, we bathed in the fading sunlight and relaxed in solitary bliss. Usually I feel guilty being so unproductive, but I was calm enjoying the serenity of our last night in the desert. When I’m feeling overwhelmed now, I think back to the peacefulness and positive energy of those desert nights. We travelled through many beautiful parks that fall, but nothing reinvigorated and inspired us like the Mojave National Preserve.

About the Author: Rozlyn Young grew up in Fort McMurray, Alberta trying to decide if she would rather be a scientist, writer, or filmmaker. She pursued her love of science first and completed her M.Sc. Roz worked and published in microbiology before attending the Vancouver Film School for screenwriting.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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#RBQuests: Adventure in Western Puerto Rico

I have traveled to Puerto Rico many times by ship and always enjoyed Old San Juan. This week traveling to film with Richard Bangs and Orbitz has taken me all over the island! In the West, we found underwater adventure and sunset in the dry forest on March 26, 2014.

If you are wondering where to explore underwater in Puerto Rico, I can highly recommend choosing Captain Frank  and diving with Aqua Adventure. We stayed at the beautiful CopaMarina Beach Resort and Spa. I loved my room with a balcony and the mafongo with grouper at the restaurant. The beach side breakfast buffet was perfect before two of the TOP dives of my life!

 

After diving on nearly every continent and being underwater with a tornado of barracudas in Sipadan, being hooked into the reef at Blue Corner in Palau and swimming with whalesharks in Oslob, Philippines, the two dives this week were remarkably at the top of my list! I was not sure what to expect from diving the wall in Guanica, Puerto Rico. The scuba diving surpassed my expectations and I cannot wait to return!

 

I cannot wait to share all the video from this underwater adventure. Pictured above: Captain Frank and Edward Mariota. Ed filmed our adventure above water and Edward Rodriguez, divemaster, pictured below and I each filmed one of our dives.

Our entire team was incredible and the videos are fantastic! SOON I will share them!

Our wall dive was to 94 feet and for 56 minutes and after an hour surface interval we went to Frank’s Cave to 55 feet for 47 minutes. The dives were phenomenal and we saw several large green moray eels that were 6-8 feet long. One of them was swimming freely among the gorgeous soft and hard corals. We saw so many different types of brain coral and a turtle named Lola.

Captain Frank took the first photo and the one of me above. He also found so many creatures for Valerie and John and I to observe. We saw a large lobster, blue and yellow Queen Angelfish, two black tip reef sharks and so many more! Edward was working hard to keep the reef safe and speared three lion fish which are not indigenous to the area and causing ecological problems. Diving with this team you will see that their highest priority is taking care of the people and the underwater world! Let’s meet up with Captain Frank and Edward soon!

Did you know that Puerto Rico has a Rainforest and a Dry Forest? Pictured above Didrik Johnck behind the camera and Richard Bangs filming in Guanica Dry Forest at nearly sunset!

 

Up next in our week of filming Puerto Rico with Richard Bangs and White Nile Media: Ziplining, Thermal Waters and meeting Jose Enrique! Check back for all the stories and video or follow along on our Tagboard (more below). Want to read more about our travels right now? Old San Juan, Livin’ La Vida Loca, Meeting Sports Giants! Thank you to everyone who assisted us and shared their stories with us! Lisa

 

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My Place Somewhere in the USA

Where do I feel inspired? It doesn’t have a name. I can only describe the region of space to you. Sometimes this place has four or more walls. The enclosure changes shape and size by the hour. When the temporary barriers finish serving their purpose, they transform into oak trees, mountain ranges, or another face of nature. The scenery around me tends to blend together and make me sleepy. I drift into a dream. My eyes provide no use for me here. Neither do my limbs or my organs or my teeth. Where I go while my body sleeps must stay a secret. For a few REM cycles each night, I know I live in a land without boundaries or expectations.

Once I wake up, I refuse to move before I remember that I don’t need to repeat what I did yesterday. My life at night prepares me for an existence on the edge. I shake off the dust and notice the walls I saw a day ago have shifted their moods. Some appear welcoming with blinding light. Others continue to hold on to the evening that enveloped them. If I spot a window, I gaze beyond the glass. I keep at my pre-breakfast brooding until I register my reflection and morning breath. Out there, in here. Both mean the same thing. I determine their worth. I decide what to take and what to return. I own no coordinates.

In this tangible world of mine, an assortment of actors perform their roles. I never expect much as an adult. If they happen to speak my language, friendship can blossom and persist for ages. A rare event. I get overwhelmed with possibilities and miss opportunities. I drown in thought. When a muse does choose to sing its siren song, I exhaust myself trying to connect with the force by focusing on all components of the moment. I botch most attempts. Logic fails me here. These particular instances possess the qualities of a solid, but I would have better luck if I grasped at vapor. The other bits still exist, but my interactions with them usually dissolve into muted moods or sense data. Perhaps I should give up searching, wandering. The impulse to create appears to disappear as frustration grows…

A sudden burst of insight sprouts from my brain! The rule reveals itself: every minute has the potential to mutate paths and impact the direction of my footsteps. Why chain my mind to time? Or details? I cannot tolerate a marionette fate controlled by money, weather, and no trespassing signs. I crave motion. I think I understand the reason for my triangulation. Shall I call my newfound discovery “freedom”? Labeling a phenomenon brought on by a random firing of synapses with a word like that could throw me off course. The architectural or geological surroundings seem to matter little. The biological bond always triumphs. The camaraderie that develops between beings who will and desire love and acceptance outlasts the duration of any organism. Wherever this link occurs, you might find me.

About the Author: Zachary Tipton lives somewhere between the Redwoods and the Rocky Mountains. He spends most of his free time writing music and short stories. He also enjoys painting portraits of famous figures and family members.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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My Scottish Sojourn

As I look back at my life

To measure the losses and gains

Some moments were a boon,some a bane

But for the time that i spent in Edinburgh

I have just one thing to say…

That i’d give anything in this world

To stroll along those streets again..

If i were given the luxury to spend 24 hours of my life at a destination of my choice,it will have to be-Edinburgh,Scotland and here’s why:

Shrill notes of the Bagpiper cutting through the air interspersed occasionally with ringing of the bells from St. Giles cathedral,aroma of the Haggis wafting out of the pubs as you stroll by the Royal Mile,a predominance of that red and black Tartan pattern wherever you cast your eye and you know you are somewhere on the streets of Edinburgh-the national capital of Scotland.

My day begins with a steaming hot cuppa and a massive shortbread from the Elephant’s house,the same cafe where JK Rowling over numerous cups of coffee bore that legendary world of witchcraft.Breathtaking views of the Edinburgh castle from the cafe room with soft music playing in the backdrop,ideas are bound to spring one may think.They sure did for Ms. Rowling whose pictures and newspaper clippings now adorn the cafe walls.’Birth place of Harry Potter’ beams the cafe entrance and as i step inside,i notice a very visible presence of lifesize Elephant statues with their trunks raised as if in a customary welcome greeting to every visitor here.

After relishing my breakfast in the warm cafe surroundings,i head towards my next destination,the National Museum of Scotland. Soaking in the scottish sun,which i hear is a rare phenomenon here,given the incessant rain showers the country sees all year through,i walk the short distance from the cafe to the museum.The museum is home to various arts and artefacts from ancient civilizations and diverse cultures all over the world.With so much to look around,one can easily spend days here soaking in the plethora of information the museum houses.I particularly fancied the scottish section which at first drew me to it with the soulful Bagpiper notes playing in the background.Even though a glimpse around town may provide ample opportunities to bask in the scottish experience,but to be able to read and understand the rich history and culture behind it all,a visit to the museum is a must.After having amassed my fair share of knowledge,i decide to get some air.The Royal Mile is my next stop.The busiest street of the old town of Edinburgh,Royal Mile has very aptly earned the distinction of being the most popular and finest of walkways here.The mile long street is your one stop shop to take in the scottish experience in all its glory.The street is lined up with numerous cashmere and souvenir shops,eateries,pubs and cafe with a very visible presence of the famous scottish shortbread on every cafe’s rack.Scotland is very well known for its toffees and fudges and one is often allured into buying this stuff not only for their divine taste but also for the charming tinned boxes that contain them.Not the one to be left behind when it comes to shopping,i did my fair share of indulgence ,specially when it came to cashmere and shortbreads.Another feast for the eyes here is the sight of scottish men dressed in traditional kilts ,proudly portraying their story telling skills or serenading the tourists with awe inspiring bagpiper notes.As the music begins to echo in the air ,it renders a very upbeat mood to the whole atmosphere and all you want to do is just keep listening and strolling along here.Years after,when you run down the memory lane reminiscing your scottish experience,a walk down the Royal Mile will definitely be one of the high points of your memories.

After having thoroughly enjoyed myself in the warm locales of Edinburgh,the next day i take a bus tour to the Scottish Highlands.Famous the world over for their breathtaking beauty,intriguing history and the very fascinating glens and lochs,the highlands took me to a completely different world.As we drove past snow clad mountain ranges,fairy tale like scottish villages and the mystical countryside replete with medieval castles,i felt like being transported to some magical world of sorts.And to add to that magical touch was our Scottish bus driver who had an enchanting story to tell for every sight in view.From stories about scottish battles and battlefields,the famous massacres in history to the long held traditional scottish myths our bus driver had us all captivated with his story narration.But the bit that intrigued me the most was the Hogwarts express railway line that was accompanying us all along as we drove through.This is the same railway line that takes Harry Potter and his mates to Hogwarts school of witchcraft proclaimed our driver in a spooky tone.No wonder then i was feeling a bit like Hermione Granger myself!

The Highland beauty left me completely mesmerized.Be it the charming highland sheep ‘Hamish and Honey’ with whom i went berserk clicking pictures,the picturesque landscapes with gushing rivers and centuries old bridges or the gracious people with warm and genuine smiles on their faces,this was one trip that will remain etched in my memory forever.

After around 14 hours of a heavenly experience in the Highlands,we returned back to Edinburgh which bore as buoyant a look at night time.The bells from St. Giles cathedral were ringing and the city seemed to be bathed in a vibrant array of colors,breathing life from its every nook and corner.I looked outside the window of my inn and saw the diminishing Sun rays engulf the old town.The sky bore a deep blue aptly complemented by the dep blue waters of the sea just besides the town.It felt beautiful,it felt like a painter’s imagination that could only be pictured,it felt surreal.

About the Author:

Name: Neha Sharma

Occupation:IT Infrastructure Specialist

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Las Pozas, Mexico And The Eternal Now

“Las Pozas and the Eternal Now.”

By Kathleen O’Connor

My traveling companions and I take our first steps onto a mossy, grey cobblestoned pathway in the midst of an impossibly green rainforest. Flashy red, yellow and orange tropical flowers demand our attention amid the sea of green surrounding us. Straight ahead is a ring-shaped entranceway and just beyond that, I catch a glimpse of massive concrete structures, standing strong against the pervasive jungle determined to overtake them. For now they seem to be holding their ground. I breathe in the warm heavy air and can’t help but smile. In a few brief moments, I’ll pass through the “Queen’s Ring” (as the entranceway is called) and enter Las Pozas: a dream-like world created by a wealthy British gentleman artist who followed the beat of a different drum and found inspiration in the middle of a Mexican jungle.

Edward James first came to this place from West Sussex in 1947 while scouting for a spot to create his own personal escape from the privileged, highbrow society he was born into; a place where his love of art, orchids and exotic animals could thrive. He found his Shangri-La near the small village of Xilitla in the Mexican state of San Luis Potosi. Named after the surrounding spring-fed pools and waterfalls (one as high as 80 feet), Las Pozas became the escape James so longed for. Already a generous patron of the Surrealist art movement, James began construction on what would ultimately become a Surrealist’s dream: a sculpture garden where M.C. Escher’s mathematical aesthetics meet a Seussian architectural design straight out of Whoville.

In all, there are thirty-six unique structures made of concrete and whimsy to discover here. Most have quirky names like “House With A Roof Like A Whale” and “Temple Of The Ducks.” Others are simply “Parrot House” or “Ocelot House”, which I assume is where Mr. James must have kept some of his favorite exotic animals. According to the locals, he was known to walk around the grounds with his favorite red and blue Macaw companion riding atop his shoulder. I almost expect to bump into them at any moment.

As we continue walking along elevated pathways and climb up corkscrew staircases leading nowhere but to a state of heightened vertigo, I begin to feel what I call the “travel giddiness”; that state of mind you enter when you are completely immersed in the present moment. Suddenly you feel an overwhelming sense of love and wonder. Writer David James Duncan referred to this feeling as “melting into the Eternal Now.” As Duncan points out, “Sometimes it happens in pristine wilds, but sometimes it happens in airports or city streets. And who cares which?”

Perhaps Las Pozas, with its secret rooms inside massive towers and giant concrete flowers in perpetual bloom, is here to remind us of that very thing. Perhaps Edward James hoped that those who visited this beautiful place would find themselves reawakened to those feelings and take a bit of its magic back home with them as they returned to their daily lives.

As we start our journey back to the “Queen’s Ring”, one of the smaller sculptures of Las Pozas catches my eye. I look around and see two strong and oversized concrete hands. I can’t help but stare at them for a while, perhaps in an attempt to memorize every detailed line etched upon them. They are beautiful in their humanness and I begin to wish photos captured more than just images.

But today was a good day. We unraveled a few of the secrets of Las Pozas, we stood bravely atop a jungle fortress and we mingled with the Eternal Now. I think Mr. James would be pleased.

References:

*Information about Edward James came from here:

*Quote by David James Duncan came from a Grist Interview

About the Author: Kathleen O’Connor is a biologist, Mom and bibliophile living in the beautiful mountain town of Durango, CO. In her spare time, she enjoys writing, caving and cycling. She occasionally blogs about life.

She hopes to return to Las Pozas someday.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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China: Time Upon Itself

The sun-gold, silk dragon careens across the low, gray sky and like the circular Hakka home, time loops upon itself. Old drummers sit on stools no higher than our shins and bang their canvass drum heads while ash dangles from their cigarettes. The dance isn’t spectacular – in our high-tech world we’ve seen explosions and colors and sound bombard our senses – yes, we are a desensitized group. Even here in an ancient village, the iPhones light up palms and children ignore the songs while their fingers shoot another digital animal through another virtual reality. No – the dance isn’t spectacular, but for a moment the cadence of the drums and the whirling of the dragon take control, and as if in a trance, the world me around disappears.

The Hakka Homes are timeless; the soot-colored roofs and moss-lined rock pathways open up the body and announce their antiquity. It’s hard to walk on slick rock roads and the damp, dark tiles. Everything is backlit against the sky leaving an impression of light when your eyes move to focus. The hundreds of rooms are dizzying and I imagine ancient children playing hide-and-seek in the thousands of alcoves. Empty coffins line the highest storage spaces on the highest level of the village home and the musk from the abandoned rooms fills me with fear for a moment. A mother draws water from the well, the well reflects the sky – an endless beam of light. I watch her lower the wooden bucket into the stone cylinder and am surprised when I hear before I see the bucket hit the glass-sky-water.

Time stops and time loops in the Hakka village home. The well breaks my concentration and I’m brought back into this space, I circle the building. All of the history: the beauty of the things that have existed before me and the things that will continue after me whirr and bleed into sounds of text messages and television sets muffled behind closed rooms. I’m haunted in this cold, hollow edifice – the etched characters on the wall indicate a time when the well water may have been the only thing entering the body. The slogans are long-since painted over, but a careful eye can spot a hint at things unmentionable. And as that moment begins to bleed into this moment a little girl in a reflective, puffy, pink coat screeches in excitement as her father lights a stream of firecrackers.

After the Dragon Dance we pile into one of the freezing sections of the village home. The mothers and daughters steady themselves along the rock countertops and I watch the dark-haired women dance among their timeless duty. Someone lights the fire beneath the bathtub-sized wok, someone else slams a cleaver into the freshly killed, goldenrod-skinned chicken; someone else heats the water for tea (from an improvised electric tea kettle) and I stand in the boundary between kitchen and parlor where the men smoke, pour tea, and spit seeds. My position as guest renders me helpless and although I’m agile in the kitchen I’m shooed into the room with the men. The men find my presence uncomfortable and lower their voices in respect. My presence is a break in the rhythm, in the dance, in the endless loop of culture. Every room in the Hakka house is filled with an identical scene – the same smells of range smoke and cigarettes waft between the water-rot wooden corridors. The same hands smooth the skin of the chicken checking for feathers or blemishes. The same jokes are told by the same shy men. And here I stand on the threshold between their infinity, and my own.

About the Author: Rachelle Linda Escamilla is a poet/writer from California. Her work has been published internationally and she is a finalist for the Willow Books Literature Award. She currently writes for In The Red Magazine in Guangzhou, China where she also teaches and co-manages The Center for Creative Writing at Sun Yat-sen University.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Island of Surprises in Bolivia

After just a couple of days in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, I was ready to leave the hustle-and-bustle of this vast, chaotic city and enjoy a bit of peace and quiet on nearby island, Isla del Sol. Upon arrival, I took one look at the intimidatingly steep hill that stood before me and decided that I would simply chuck my bags in the nearest lodging, for at this altitude, walking just a couple of steps uphill feels like an immense challenge. After discovering a cheap cabin within minutes, I flopped onto one of the small, rock solid beds, which was covered in dust and the odd hair while my travelling partner, Sterling, perched tentatively on the edge of the other. We exchanged nervous glances; this was a seriously foul room. Without hesitating, we walked back out so that we could enjoy the island and try and put those greasy dark hairs out of our minds.

After a painful trek to the very top, Sterling and I sat on a wooden bench with two cups of coffee we’d bought off a woman further down. She didn’t actually have any takeaway cups, so we had to take china ones and promise to return them later, leaving the keys to our cabin with her so she could guarantee we’d come back. As we sat there, gazing out over the remarkably still waters of Lake Titicaca and savouring the silence, we began to feel raindrops. It appeared Isla del Sol was not living up to its name. A little man then emerged from the middle of nowhere and asked if we realised that we were sitting outside his restaurant, which surprised us as there certainly didn’t appear to be any restaurants in sight. He then pointed at a rustic looking building just behind us, which didn’t look like it would fit more than a handful of people inside, and invited us in. Despite the fact Pablo – owner, chef and waiter all in one – prepares all the meals in this tiny restaurant without electricity or help from anyone else, he manages to create the most wonderful dishes. There is also no menu, as he simply cooks whichever fish the fishermen have brought in that day, along with a couple of pizza and pasta dishes. We were warned that our food would take a while to arrive, but with the soft light from the candles and delicious trouty smells wafting in from the kitchen, we felt truly content and didn’t mind at all. Needless to say, when it did eventually reach our table and each of us took that first bite, we agreed that even a five-hour wait would have been worth this incredible taste sensation.

After an extremely satisfying dinner, it was time to make our way back down to the bottom of the hill. This proved tricky for two reasons: firstly, we had completely forgotten that we’d left our keys in the (now closed) café where we’d bought the coffees and secondly, we’d neglected to take a light with us and the island was draped in darkness. By some miracle, we still managed to locate the café, where we stood yelling at nobody in particular until the frustrated owner came down from her room above to reopen it. Returning to our cabin was an even greater mission, as we simply could not remember for the life of us how to get there. It wasn’t until a whopping three hours later, after trying to open several incorrect doors, accidentally knocking down a wall and unintentionally aggravating a number of locals along the way, that we were at long last back in our delightful dusty chambers. Once again, I flopped onto the hair-ridden bed, turned to Sterling and commented, “Well that was quite a day, wasn’t it!” receiving nothing but soft snores in response.

About the Author:  Camilla (Milly) Day is a lively, energetic person who tries to make the most of every day. My favourite things include travelling, writing, food & wine, music, dancing and nature. I am currently working as English Content Manager for a tourism agency based in Argentina, writing articles about travel (and loving every minute of it).

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Inside My Outdoors in Canada

Each time I went on a plane, no matter how many times I already mastered my nervousness, I still had fear of airplanes, yet when I somehow found the courage to fly, I ended up loving the plane because I knew that the plane would lead me to Disney World. But, as exciting, yet nerve-racking as the plane was, it did not compare to my favorite trip, Canada.

I have flown in my head to faraway fantasy places, yet my dream vacation was not a vacation that many girls would say is their favorite, and quite honestly, I did not know why it was my favorite either at first. It surprised me when I discovered that the place I have no regrets of spending my time in, was in Canada. There were no luxurious hotels like in San Francisco, no screaming children on roller coasters, no massive cruise ships, no pools, but that is exactly why I love it.

I remember the city, Thunder Bay, Toronto, was the last place where I saw a store with real people. It was another 2 hours more to reach our campsite on Lac de Mil Lacs (Lake of a million lakes). Immediately as we got to the little “resort”, I discovered that I was no longer in “Kansas” anymore. But strangely, I was excited, not scared. With no food (except breading for fish, watermelon, and utensils), little money, and only our camping equipment, we went off into the Great Outdoors of Canada.

I would not say I am a city girl, but I do not think I should go as far as to say that I was exactly ready for Canada either. I do love fishing, but to fish till the sun sets every day, eating nothing but fish, cannot even compare to any other camping trip I have ever done. The first day we set up our tent, and in the morning, we were off fishing, scrounging for the “hot spots” where all the northerns and walleyes were waiting. It may not seem relaxing to many people, including myself at first. A fishing trip is a lot of work actually, but there is a wonderful feeling in knowing that you do not have to worry about where you are going to eat, or what you are going to do; you simply wake up and fish.

My favorite day of the trip was when we parked our boats up to an island, maybe 40 miles from where the resort was. We filleted a huge catch of walleye, large mouth bass, and northerns right on this dinky island, where no more than 10 people had been in the last few years. Fishing was nothing new to me; I was practically born holding a fishing rod, yet what was missing was my true love of fishing, and this little island brought that into my heart, and for some reason, this island opened my eyes to seeing that what I needed was a real love of fishing.

Everywhere I go, no matter if it is at the mall or at Starbucks, people seem to be glued to their cell phones and social networking sites. It was such a refreshing vacation to be where there was no possible way to waste your time on texting or Instagram/FACEBOOK. I think that if you spend much of your time on social networking sites, you start to live your life through your friends. And, that is not the way we were meant to live! So, when I was in Canada, it really was a blessing I was given; it was not a blessing I thought I wanted, but rather, what I needed. Canada calmed me down and had this air about her that made me feel alive again. When people think of camping, many think of it as just another word, but when I think of camping, I think of my favorite spot on Earth, Lac de Mil Lacs. If I ever go missing and disappear, this is where I will be; this is where part of my life was left behind, and where it is waiting for me to return. I will go back one day. I used to have fear of planes because I was scared of the plane falling, but now, I am still scared of planes, yet this time I am afraid for a different reason; I am scared because if I am on a plane, that means that I am not going to Canada. Being away from Canada is like being far away from your real friend. It is hard, but as long as Canada is waiting for me to return, I will not disappoint my new friend. I will return one day. Until then, I await our reunion.

About the Author:  Natalie Zink lives in an ordinary suburb. But where my real life is, is in Canada. I love to go fishing, play basketball, roller blade, and ski. I basically love anything outside. If I could be doing anything, I would be fishing. I also do love to write. It started out as just an English assignment, but I discovered that writing could be more than just “homework”, and for it to reach it’s potential was for me to pick up a pencil and write:)

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter our next Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

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Finding Your Flow: From Survive to Thrive

In Arianna Huffington’s new book, Thrive, she asks: “What is a good life?” How do you find a flow to move from simply surviving to loving every minute of your life and thriving?

Huffington says: “To live the lives we truly want and deserve, and not just the lives we settle for, we need a third metric, a third measure of success that goes beyond the two metrics of money and power, and consists of four pillars: well-being, wisdom, wonder, and giving.”

American Express commissioned the LifeTwist study examining what do people want. Their findings are in synch with Huffington’s new book that people are “placing a greater premium on work life balance and are looking for ways to pursue their passions. In fact, more than two-thirds (72%) of respondents would rather spend money on experiences than things.”

The “youngest American to go to every country,” Lee Abbamonte, told me that you “have to work towards things and establish what you want to do. You can thrive. You can do anything.” His passion led him to set his goal to see 100 countries by his thirtieth birthday. He accomplished that goal five years early!

To build the life we want Huffington suggests using “meditation, yoga, getting enough sleep, renewing ourselves, and giving back” as tools that are the “ultimate everyday performance enhancers.” Finding our wisdom by “recognizing what we’re really seeking: connection and love…we need to drop our relentless pursuit of success as society defines it for something more genuine, more meaningful, and more fulfilling.” Defining success individually and living with enthusiasm is a worthwhile endeavor.

As Huffington states: “We’re all on a journey, a voyage, a quest to slay the monster, free the princess, and return home.”

Hula Hoop Class on the beach near Santa Monica Pier

In Los Angeles, there are four internationally renown master teacher trainers who can help you on your path to becoming unfrozen and in the words of Huffington: “find your place to stand—your place of wisdom and peace and strength. And from that place, remake the world in your own image, according to your own definition of success, so that all of us—women and men—can thrive and live our lives with more grace, more joy, more compassion, more gratitude, and yes, more love. Onward, upward, and inward!”

Wondering where to start?

Katie O’Brien Eychis will have you spinning from the moment you enter her hula-hoop class at Loews Santa Monica twice a week. As she says, “Hooping’s greatest gift is the mind body connection that uniquely creates both a workout and a moving meditation at the same time. It is invigorating to the body and calming to the mind simultaneously. In this way, it resembles yoga, which is why I teach both. I’ve recently worked to create a fusion class of yoga with hoop. It’s the new future of fitness and Hoopnotica is a big part of it.” I cannot wait to go to her hooping classes and learn a new trick or simply be told to move around the room and take up space.

Noah Maze Yoga is “a doorway into a new way to understand and practice yoga…We explore the stories and symbolism behind many of the poses that you regularly practice…Yoga [can] facilitate the theater of the mind, and body and heart…and create a tapestry with evocative power of metaphor and myth at the forefront…Speak your deeper interest and originality.”

Join Yoga with Rocky and Noah Maze Yoga in Los Angeles (Rocky, Lisa, Noah pictured.)

Noah and Rocky are starting a new online yoga-training course or meet them in person at the next Los Angeles intensive workshop on March 29 at Noah Maze Yoga studio on Beverly and La Brea. I loved his FireStarter Workshop and we were all still friends after nearly three hours of backbends!

When I interviewed Dr. Benjamin Karney, UCLA Professor and author of Love Me Slender, we discussed the tools people need to better support their loved ones to achieve their goals. Your life partner can be your best advocate and coach for weight loss and support in turbulent times. Sadly many people feel relationship paralysis and while they want to give and receive support, they feel stuck and unclear on how to make their relationship work. I highly recommend Ann Bradney of Radical Aliveness and Kamana Hunter of Bloodline Healing as ways to find new strategies for empowering your life, your relationship and bringing passion into all that you do.

Ann Bradney states: “When you can engage powerful feelings without the need to control or tame them, that’s radical aliveness.” Her website explains that “Radical Aliveness work is challenging, because it asks individuals to be fully present and honest; surprising, because it builds on the energy, emotions, and issues that pop up at any given moment; and exciting, because it connects us with our potential to bring a more authentic and powerful self to our lives, our interactions with others, and our connection with the world. It teaches us how to be effective, influential leaders in a new socio-political environment where we are all connected, where we can all participate, and where each individual is needed to create the wisdom of the whole.” Start by joining in the Healing Drumming Circle on April 4 or Community Night on April 5 to prepare yourself for exploring the Core Energetics Institute.

When you are ready to be the free one in your family, meet Kamana Hunter for “Bloodline Healing, which was largely born in Los Angeles. My work as an Intuitive Healer with Holocaust survivors has shown me how each human being carries an invisible burden of their family’s history. Unburdening is a rite of passage that has been largely lost in American Society, but we’re bringing it back in our workshops and seeing amazing results. People of all backgrounds leave the workshops so inspired that they change jobs, forgive old hurts, and leave toxic relationships in order to reclaim their lives. If Holocaust Survivors can make such great leaps in their personal healing, then everyone can be more free.” Join him at Brandeis-Bardin Institute Retreat Center for a weekend intensive starting May 30, 2014.

Are you ready to Thrive? Use the words from the song, Let It Go, from the movie Frozen, as your inspiration: “Fears that once controlled me, can’t get to me at all. It’s time to see what I can do, to test the limits and break through. No right, no wrong, no rules for me. I’m free. ….Here I stand in the light of day: Let the storm rage on!”

It is your time. What will you choose?

About this Article: Lisa Niver Rajna has been traveling the world since 1990. She is the chief spark at We Said Go Travel and on location in Puerto Rico filming with Richard Bangs.

The post Finding Your Flow: From Survive to Thrive appeared first on We Said Go Travel.

#RBQuests: Meeting Sports Giants in Puerto Rico, Day 3&4

Golf Pro Jesus Rodriguez

Traveling around Puerto Rico to film with Richard Bangs and Orbitz has been an adventure! Lately we are meeting incredible athletic stars and sports champions!

Our stay at Wyndham Grand Rio Mar included spending time with Golf Pro Jesus Rodriguez on the 16th hole on the Ocean Course. He is a wonderful man and even helped me putt a coconut!

We explored the beautiful Bahia Bay where the St. Regis is located and met Chi Chi Rodriguez. Full of one liners and golfing history, we enjoyed meeting this golf legend. If you want to live at the stunning Bahia Beach Residences, the Beach is just the beginning! I highly recommend lunch by the pool at SeaGrapes, the mahi mahi tacos were truly tasty! The Sand Dollar Members only area Beach was spectacular!

Richard Bangs and Charlito Pasarell

After meeting two famous Puerto Rican golfers, we were treated to a tour of the Royal Isabela and unforgettable cuisine in a lovely outdoor setting by tennis champion, Charlito Pasarell. Ready to relax and get away from it all on 2000 acres, I saw a casita with your name on it! Join Charlito and his entire team to explore cliffs, beaches and a golf course that will make your jaw drop.

This week: filming in Puerto Rico with Richard Bangs and White Nile Media! We are creating videos for PRTourismCo and Orbitz Originals. I cannot wait to share the videos and more stories with you! More soon on the best wall dive with sharks, eels, turtle, lobster and more! Lisa

The post #RBQuests: Meeting Sports Giants in Puerto Rico, Day 3&4 appeared first on We Said Go Travel.