Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 424

Monkeying around Malaysia

I love the elements of surprise and unpredictability that are associated with travel and the Malaysian island of Penang will forever hold a special place in my heart. Having solely followed the itineraries set up for me when travelling in groups, the spring of 2011 was the first time then eighteen-year-old me ever traveled completely alone with no idea of where I was going, what I was going to do, completely broke and terrified.

After volunteering in Thailand and Cambodia and visiting family in Singapore, I had to get back to Thailand on my own to reunite with some friends and catch a returning flight home, but I was totally scared of whether or not this young female solo traveler will be able to successfully hop through the islands of Malaysia without a group or guide. Regardless of these doubts, travelling possesses this ability to test one’s skills of resourcefulness and additionally has this magical way of bringing people together. Before I knew it, I was not alone on this foreign paradise and ended up successfully sailing through Penang and Langkawi and arrived in Thailand all in one piece! Accordingly, finding new friends along the way, who were coincidentally from my university back in Canada, as well as mingling with and consulting the help of the locals were extremely valuable experiences for me.

From sharing a dorm at a heavily discounted price with my fellow Canadians and bonding through jungle treks to gaining ‘sympathy money’ from locals since ATMs don’t function at ungodly hours, I made good use of my time in Penang, learning things about myself that I did not know I had or could do. While getting out of my comfort zone led to making new self-discoveries and challenging myself to test my limits, it was my interaction with the wild monkeys of Malaysia that was priceless.

The sun was setting on Penang Hill, which signaled that it was time to make the three hour trek downhill, but my new friends and I were distracted by a family of wild monkeys that were around us. As depicted in the photo, we were mesmerized at how they were either giving each other a good butt massage or picking lice off one another. However, one of us apparently upset our simian friends and before we knew it, we were running for our lives down this extremely steep hill as the “chief monkey” was chasing after us with a vengeance.

Once we thought we were safe, we realized that we disturbed another family of monkeys eating their dinner and that “chief monkey” would not let us get by, growling at us to mark his territory. Terrified of being trapped on a hill with rabid simians along with the notion of getting rabies, we were desperate to get home and waited for help until we finally convinced a driver to let us use his van as a barrier between us and the monkeys. We got our “Pink Panther” on behind that barricade of a van as we heard the taunting cackles of monkeys from the trees above us. Subsequently, we encountered two locals trekking up the hill this late and warned them about the monkeys. They offered us local words of wisdom, explaining to us that monkeys only chased after women and as the only female in the group, everyone blamed our misfortune with monkeys on me.

Regardless of actually being the catalyst for our monkey chase, this was definitely an unforgettable experience for me. I mean, who would have thought that getting chased down a hill by Malaysian monkeys as the sun was setting would make the best work-out of my life plus a hilarious conversation starter! So, what are you waiting for? Get off your couches and start making amazing memories now by planning your next travel experience! Just so you know, monkeying around Malaysia is always an adventurous option.

About the Author: Catherine Reyes is an avid backpacker and travel junkie from Toronto in her last year of university, studying archaeology and education.   She is currently itching for a new adventure to embark on and is anxious about what she is going to do with the rest of her life.

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

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Silent witnesses of time in Botswana

Our journey began when my new romantic companion asked me to join him on an overland safari. I was in love and extremely excited about my first visit to Botswana. We met up with the rest of our convoy and began our epic journey through this spectacular country. We visited Nata, Kasane, Chobe, Savuti and Maun.

However, the place where our journey ended will forever be engraved in my soul. In Maun, we parted ways with our convoy and decided to suck the last marrow out of this trip and spend one last evening at Baines Baobabs. Keep in mind that it was the middle of summer and my Camel-man’s 4WD had a blown power steering pump, rendering the aircon un-propelled. As the overland explorers of years gone by, sweaty and dusty with unassisted steering, we traversed our wilderness. Love conquers all and we made our way to the Nxai National Park gate to obtain a permit to camp at Baines Baobabs.

Baines Baobabs got their name from the famous English artist and explorer, Thomas Baines who was a member of the Livingston expedition. He painted the constellation of trees in 1862 during his journeys through the Makgadikgadi pans in Botswana. I can fully comprehend why he was inspired to take out his paint and easel in the middle of nowhere while traveling across this desolate part of the continent. In a landscape known for its areas of ‘nothingness’, the sight of these is bound to let the muse arise within your deepest soul.

After 30 kilometers, we arrived at a desolate mystical constellation of trees in the middle of nowhere. It was extremely hot but the welcoming green leaves of the ancient giants were like a silent sentinel inviting us to take cover. We were the only two people there and we set up camp under one of the majestic trees.

The sound of silence is the one thing I will never forget. It is such a rare commodity in modern society that we forget that it even exists. We walked out on the pan and lay down on the arid ground amongst the remnants of fossilized guano. I remember closing my eyes, expecting to hear something. But there was nothing, only silence. At first, it was almost frightening, but what the sound of silence did for my soul was incalculable.

Silence lost her melody when we heard rumbling weather in the distance. We opened our eyes and saw that a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon and rolling towards us. No time for making a fire or even dig out the gas. There was only time to take a photo and grab what we needed for the night. We had to move fast, because the clouds were hurrying along. The land was calling out to be comforted by rain.

We reached our rooftop tent just before the first drops of rain greeted the barren earth. We opted for smoked mussels, crackers and Amarula liqueur for dinner.

For desert, my romantic travel companion read me a short story from Roald Dahl’s Tales of the unexpected after which he fell asleep without any trouble. I listened to the rhythms of rain on canvas and dosed off only to be woken by one of the most magnificent and fear provoking sounds, a lion calling in the dark.

“Don’t worry, he is very far away.” said my heavy-eyed sleeping partner in a vain attempt to comfort me. Much later that night I exchanged all my horrid premeditated nightmares for much needed sleep.

The next morning we arose with mixed emotions. Love was in the air but I detected fear in my Livingston’s eyes, almost to the same extent I experienced the previous night. The object of his fear was not a lion in the distance, but a wet slippery pan that we needed to cross – well knowing that the slightest disruption of the pan crust could expose a bottomless and unforgiving trap of clay and mud.

Fortune however favored the brave and with a short running start from the pan’s edge we charged straight across feeling the sagging sensation as the vehicle moaned and groaned like a tired swimmer reaching out for the pool’s edge. Digging ever deeper into the bottomless pan searching for grip, the front wheels crawled safely but exhausted onto the opposing pan edge.

Relieved, we rewarded our adrenalin infused bodies with an ice-cold St. Louis lager and savored the moment. There is something about-facing adversity while traveling. It either binds people together or separates them. In our case, Baines Baobabs inspired us to spend time with no regrets and a lifelong commitment was conceived. Nine moths later in the spring air of September we forever sealed our promise of marriage with a silent kiss.

About the author: Mariska Ford is a born and bred African with a consuming wanderlust. She is a director of social development (in short, a full time mother). In addition, she is a daydreamer and passionate writer.

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

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Isla de Gigantes, Philippines: A Paradise to Discover

Philippines has been blessed archipelago with 7,107 islands and many people were drawn to the beautiful country because of its abundant natural resources with great biodiversity. And when you hear Philippines, the first thing that would probably come to your mind is either the breath-taking islands of Boracay, Palawan or Cebu, but let me introduce one island that is very serene, magnificently beautiful, less crowded – Isla de Gigantes.

Isla de Gigantes can be found in Carles Iloilo and this is the place I would love to spend my time with. The undeveloped paradise captured my heart, and the hospitality of the people makes me want to stay there forever. Their ways of living is very simple, they electricity supply is very limited and there is no strong network connection, there are just some particular spot where you can send a text message and they call it “the call center” this I think is one way to detached myself from my very toxic and busy city life.

There are four spots to visit around Isla de Gigantes. Let’s start with the overwhelming beautiful Cabugao Island. This island has no electricity but has cellphone signal. Climbing up the rock to have a better view of the whole island will leave you in amazement. Spending time here seems like spending time in paradise, while the wind is blowing gently on my face, the waves that keeps ringing in my ears, the sand relaxes my toes and the salt water on my hair. I think a perfect, relaxing and very chilled vacation everybody would love to experience.

Then the Antonia Island, the perfect spot to go snorkeling and see the world of the living creatures underwater. This is the island where I get to spent most of my time eating seafood, talking to my companion and just striking a pose in every angle I could get a chance to take a picture with. The sun is so high yet the coconut trees diffuse the heat and make me feel the summer breeze around.

Next stop would be the “tangke” (tank in English). It is a limestone that has a swimming type lagoon inside. Every time the tide is high, the place becomes like a swimming pool for everyone to enjoy. Then in this spot, you can get to experience cliff jumping! From the spot where locals put a marking already, the spot is quite high, the challenge there is that you will jump off to the sea. This is a very challenging activity especially if there is a strong wind and waves. Nonetheless, it is a very rewarding feeling after the jump.

Lastly, the Bantigue Island also known as the sandbar has a magnificent view that will also capture your heart. The experience in Isla de Gigantes is something I wanted to share to everyone so that you will also feel the overwhelming hospitality of the Filipinos residing in this island. I would say, Philippines is not just a mere beautiful country, but a country with amazing places to explore, beautiful warm-hearted people that always have smile on their faces.

About the Author: Aiza Bagano is a free-spirited girl who loves to travel and see the world outside my busy life. Life is too short, so better enjoy it while we can. So, I’m taking every chance that I have to explore and experience life and to meet new people, to share stories with, memories and gain new friends worldwide.

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

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Hong Kong: A Journey of Reflection

Imagine everyday someone would bank in a sum of money into your account. You are free to spend the money in anyway you want. At the stroke of midnight, all the money unspent will be withdrawn but a new sum of money would be banked in again. What would you do? Common senses would say withdraw all the money before midnight and spent it the way you would see fit. Imagine again if that money is time. Imagine some more, going to a city that never sleeps which is also a financial hub for Asia. In the city that does not sleep, does it mean we gain more time?

Hong Kong has its own very distinct character. Growing up watching VHS tapes from Hong Kong, the images remained vivid. Jacky Chan, Stephen Chow, and Andy Lau are all regular visitors into my living room. With a land mass of 1,104 km2 , Hong Kong has exported its brand of culture to the whole world. It is the founding place of Kung Fu movies. Its movies has such a mass appeal that I was asked many times being a Chinese whether I know Kung Fu. Not everyone in Hong Kong knows Kung Fu but nearly everyone possess the spirit of Kung Fu. The city has always come back from many challenges such as Tiananmen Protest, SARS, housing price bubble and many more. Despite the crowded and chaotic streets of Hong Kong there is always a sense of discipline. Ques are respected and streets remained clean. The city and its surroundings never seem tired. This is a stark reminder that we all live in a chaotic world that always spiral out of control, but we still have the choice to stand firm and be who we are.

Tsim Sha Tsui is one of Hong Kong most popular shopping destination. On the main street, there are rows of luxury brand boutiques. The main spoken language in these shops is Mandarin. Tourism money, especially money from China is one of the city’s major life line. Digging deeper, Hong Kong is a reflection of life’s uncertainty. The clock tower of Tsim Sha Tsui is a witness of Hong Kong’s transformation. During the British rule, illegal migrants from China are granted amnesty and legal rights upon reaching the clock tower. The tower was a beacon of hope. How many have shed tears of joy upon seeing this tower, and how many now are taking deep sigh regretting their decisions of leaving as mainland China has now blossomed? The uncertainty of life, how wonderful is that? There is no such thing as a good or bad event, it is how we handle the situation that makes a difference. For far too long we have carried the burden of the past, we just have to make every moment count.

A trip to Hong Kong is never complete unless there is a trip to The Peak. Famous for its stunning panoramic view of the city. Whether it’s day or night, it never cease to capture my breath. As I stood on the platform, I see beyond the tallest building as if I have reached haven. In that short moment, there is tranquility and stillness. To visit The Peak, we can either take the bus or the tram. By either form of transports, there is a need to navigate through crowds. To me this further enhances the whole experience of appreciating The Peak. The noisy crowd in the tramp, the winding road leading to the top represents life’s distractions. It is only by going beyond these distractions, we can see and appreciate the unlimited possibilities of life. How many times we have gotten frustrated with the most trivial things in life? How many times, we were able to see beyond all these? The Peak shows us we can and the infinity that life has to offer.

No. I did not gain more time in Hong Kong, but I learned how to spent it the best to my ability. The transformation of Hong Kong is an evidence that life always finds a way. We are all products of our past actions. There is no need to know what lies ahead as we will never know. The important moment is now. The challenges and set back is part of life that allows us to achieve greater heights. See beyond it and we see life’s promise. More than just shopping, more than just glitz, I always leave Hong Kong knowing a little bit more about myself and reminded me what life is all about. Time is something for us to use and make a difference.

About the Author: Sai Ming Ng a Malaysian Chinese father of two who aspires to fail his life towards success by trying as much as possible. He dreams of becoming an entrepreneur, a photographer and a writer. On his free time, he volunteers to feed the homeless.

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

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The city in Cambodia that Invades the Soul

It has been six months since I visited Phnom Penh, the capital of a country settled within my soul, the trip being the direct result of me uncovering its horrific recent history. As I read about Cambodia, I discovered how much I was unaware of and the depths of emotion one can be capable of, especially to events one has no plausible connection with. In the middle of stories of terror, soul scarring pain and unrelenting tragedy, I also found stirring examples of forgiveness and reconciliation, love and friendship, resilience and strength, stories that inspire even in their despair.

As a casual tourist, its wounded soul, resting under the surface but one that needs to be pried open gently, would have escaped me.

I was in Phnom Penh for only three days but there was a palpable sense of the spiritual within me. For three days, time stood still. My trip was defined as much by the city itself as it was by the people I met and the stories they told. I have never experienced such peace before. For three days, my usual chattering mind stopped talking.

The city itself is a curious mix of the old and the new, of heritage and progress, with areas of chaotic yet organized traffic and where old buildings lining the side roads open onto wide parks and boulevards and where glass and concrete eyesores mix with old world colonial heritage buildings that are fast being replaced. It is a city filled with Buddhist temples that exude a peace and calm that seem so at odds with the violence of Phnom Penh’s recent history. It is a city that once was called “The Paris of The East”. It is a city I long to return to, if just to sit quietly by the river and feel the breeze and the warmth of the Sun as it sets over the Mekong, bow to the monks making their way back to the monastery, watch from afar as young families spread their picnic sheets or just pass by lovers walking with hands clasped tight, in that special silence that signals close comfort.

It is a city where the sight of an old bookseller, selling books on the Khmer Rouge arranged neatly on his mobile cart, will compel you to stop because you know that the bookseller was himself a victim of the people whose photographs are on the books he is forced to sell for a living. And you will catch your breath and hold back a tear as you look into eyes that light up for a moment before deadening again, a mouth that flashes the smile as it was 40 years earlier but that now fades sadly and a hand that shakes as he carefully pockets your precious dollar but is then steady as he extends it again to meet and then clasp your own shaking hand, a part of your increasingly fragile countenance. A hand that you have offered as a sign of the greatest respect to someone you will never see again, to someone who has seen more in four years than you hope you will never see in all of your many lives.

It is a city filled with people who have lost everything, a city where every stone, every street corner, every branch of every tree and every old building is a witness to a history that still haunts it, literally, 35 years after Cambodia was practically obliterated. A few miles from the city stands the UN backed Khmer Rouge Tribunal Court where, even as I walked by the waterfront, Nuon Chea and Khieu Samphan, two of the main architects of the Cambodian Genocide, are on trial for crimes against humanity.

And yet, walking through this city filled with ghosts of the past, I could feel Phnom Penh moving on, trying to leave behind a history that percolates through its very fibre. The intangible beauty of this city is hard to describe, for it is felt rather than seen, defined as much as by its tourist sites as it is by the warmth, smiles and sheer normality of the people which inhabit it. For three days, Phnom Penh turned into a living, pulsating, alive city, a city that I embraced and which embraced me in turn, a city and a country from which there is much to be learnt. Phnom Penh is representative of Cambodia itself-a beauty that defies description and that is far more than what you see on a typical trip. The magic of Cambodia too, I believe, is felt, not seen. To experience Cambodia is probably to experience life itself.

I could spend a lifetime here. If you have not been to Cambodia yet, open your heart and come on in. Cambodia’s heart will always be open.

About the Author: Nishikanta Verma.

I am a practicing doctor with an often unfulfilled passion for travel. I have too many interests, none of which really amount to much.

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

 

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24 Hours in a China Paradise

China has more natural beauty than any country I have ever seen. Once you get out of the big cities you will find yourself in a different world, more like a fairy tale with untouched nature. It’s a place you have to see with your own eyes to believe it exists. My ideal day starts with waking up with my husband in Guilin, in the South of China.

We take the bamboo raft to travel to Yangshuo. The bamboo boat is the best way to travel in these parts, and to discover the hidden gems. As the boat drifts on the calm waves between the tall green and gray karst, the white doves fly over the boat singing. A herd of cows swim and take a bath in the river. Fishermen stand on their small boats throwing nets in the river to catch fish. Thousand year old pagodas are built into the sides of the mountains by the river. We can see the entrances to a few caves and we can jump in the water to have a refreshing cool bath. There are birds’ nest on the top of the karst peaks. During the few hours of the river trip, we forget all about the city. The only sounds we hear are the sounds of water and birds and the laughter of the happy people.

When we get to our destination, Yangshuo, in the afternoon, we go to the water cave, which is located a few kilometers out of the town. We take another boat, but this time it’s more like a kayak, and we enter the mouth of the cave. We paddle for a little bit then we find ourselves in a totally different world with walls of deformed rocks of different shapes and colors and some are shining, as if we are on an alien planet. We keep hiking further inside the mountain until we find the famous mud bath. It’s a natural mud tub and many Chinese people believe bathing there is good for the skin. We bathe there to cool down the heat of the summer.

We rent bikes to go back to the town, biking in the countryside and see the Moon Hill and big green fields with animals eating and walking freely. We meet local farmers and talk to the friendly hospitable people. We bike by the riverside and take a rest, and watch the breathtaking sunset. The sun disappears in the water.

By the evening we are very hungry. The best food I have ever had is always the street food. We head to the evening street market. Before we enter the market we can smell the flowing smell of authentic Chinese cuisine, a delicious smell that make us hungrier. We have a fresh crispy shrimp for dinner. The shrimp was just caught out of the river and cooked in front of us.

As I’m a traveler and an expat, a traveling experience can not be complete without meeting a local couch surfer. To many backpackers couch surfing is a great way to save money for traveling, but to me couch surfing is one of the best ways to meet people and make friends. We meet our host for a cup of tea, then he takes us shopping for souvenirs for our families and friends. Then we head to the theater to enjoy the Chinese acrobats.

At night we head to our host house to get some rest and sleep knowing that I spent the best 24 hours the way I want and with no regrets.

About The Author:

Dina Porell was born and grew up in Cairo, Egypt. In 2010 I moved to South Korea where I married the love of my life. The second love of my life is travel.

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

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Macaws of the Peruvian Amazon

The “Heath River Centre Lodge” is on the river Heath which marks the frontier between Peru and Bolivia; nothing to see except some local miners looking for gold.

Soon after leaving, except the splendid crescent of the moon, the night was complete. The boat had no lights and followed the indications of someone lightening the river with a torch in one’s hand. The silence in the purple night was unforgettable, that was a great moment!

The hotel was far from any human life; we were the only guests having the privilege to enjoy the complete quietness of Amazonia. There was no light in the room, just two poor candles allowing us to move safely; the best thing to do was to go to bed listening to the soft talk of the vegetation.”

We left the following day at 5.30 am to see the macaws. We had around 30 minutes boat to reach a hide : a floating “house” in the middle of the Heath River, it was misty, quiet and we felt a strange serenity…The water was carrying some pack of foam like industrial rejection which surprised me so far away! In fact it was only dry leaves which after falling into the water, decomposed themselves with bacteria making a kind of soap, it was not pollution, but just a natural process!

The wake up of nature is always wonderful. First nothing happened, and then the birds came progressively and by groups. The “show” began at around 7am with the arrival of the green parrots and at 9 am it was the red & green macaws turn.

The green parrots are smaller and with a short tail, they wear feathers on the head and up to their eyes on the contrary to the “red & green macaws which are the largest parrots and with a face completely bald, their tails can be longer than their bodies… They have sharp hooked bills and strong enough to break nuts. Their 2 toes pointing forward and the 2 other pointing backward, allow them to grasp their food.

They come every morning to the “clay lick” obviously to lick the clay from which they find their vitamins, and also to get from it a protective effect against any poison they could eat with their food.

We noticed some of the red and green with a yellow “patch” on the back, it was another type called “scarlet macaws”. Most of the time they nest in the holes of the trees. They live in couple and lay 2 eggs each year but keep only one “baby” alive”. Their main predators are eagles.

It is a spectacular moment which can be interrupted at any time, the macaws are very shy and attentive, that was confirmed when a small and inoffensive squirrel strolled on the clay, suddenly all the macaws flied away and did not come back leaving us with some disappointment. But we were lucky as we had reckoned more that 50 macaws, knowing it was not the best period to see them.

The weather was changing also very quickly, and we waited in the shelter looking at a sudden tropical shower on the Heath River and observing some “dusky tiki monkeys” manifesting their presence after the wet. They were very near in the bush and their shouts very powerful, we felt integrated in their world, and were now listening to their talk with others in the deep bush.

The banks of the Heath River marks the frontier between Peru & Bolivia and the strong rains cause damages which normally bother nobody. In this case, it is different and it is a constant fight between nature and people of the eco tourism hotel.

The lodge is in Bolivia and under an American control. The flood with the time is changing the course of the river and if nobody from the lodge stops it by strengthening the bordure, the hotel will be soon in Peru which will not authorize the concession. The clay lick is on the Peru bank side. If the eco lodge on the Bolivia side became Peruvian, it would have to close because of Peru laws. Therefore, it would be impossible to have the great chance to observe the red and green macaws on the “clay lick” which is too far away inside the uninhabited jungle and that would be a great loss for everybody!

About the Author: Marie-France Grenouillet, I am French and was born in Normandy where I spent my childhood in a village with one dream: to discover the world.

I was supposed to learn languages to have a good job; in fact my motivation was more the idea that it could be just helpful when travelling far away…

Now, I have a passion and present photo galleries of wild animals, covering the five continents and their countries, each gallery featuring mammals, birds, insects and landscapes.

Pictures show what words cannot translate precisely and help us to keep an authentic memory of the past; they are a faithful witness when the souvenirs become with the time just a sepia tone memory!

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

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Italy’s Best Kept Secret

I have always believed that I was born in the wrong era. The fast placed lifestyle; the hustle and bustle and the quantity over quality thing just never resonated with me. Although, now that I lived in Orvieto, Italy, I have come to realize that maybe I wasn’t born in the wrong era at all. Maybe I was born in the right era but in the wrong place. Ever since I arrived in Orvieto I fell in love with it. I fell in love with the extreme curiosity I felt the second my foot touched the uneven, cobblestone ground. The curiosity to explore the city. To understand it and its history. I have spent hours wandering every street and alley allowing the city to speak for itself, to tell me its story. To explain to me how it was able to beat time. How it was able to stay a place where time stands still.

It is Neverland, at least my Neverland.

This Etruscan city situated high up on volcanic tuff called “Tufa,” is a place isolated and its own. Although, the ancient landscape of the town doesn’t beat the old souls that call this place home. They all have a sense of wisdom and knowledge for life that is obvious in their grins. They live a leisurely life that is contagious to anyone who takes the funiculore up from Orvieto scallo.

They are happy.

They live simple lives, a life that I have always wanted to live but wasn’t able to. Los Angeles just doesn’t offer simplicity. They appreciate the beauty of everything. They aren’t looking to rush through anything. They enjoy a nice “siesta” in the afternoon and two to three hour-long dinners with good wine and food and appreciate the company they are surrounded with. Everyone knows each other, every shopkeeper and restaurant owner are friends and more elderly women walk the town arm in arm than I have ever seen.

The windy cobblestone streets lead to houses where flowerpots line the window and where clothes still hang to dry. They lead to restaurants that are still family owned. They lead to Caffè Cornelio where the owner not only comes to work everyday but he is the chef, he opens and closes, he waits on tables and he busses them. Restaurants that serve meals made from recipes that have been handed down from generation to generation. They lead to stores that sell Orvieto Classico, the best white wine in Italy, which is produced in the rolling vineyards surrounding these cliffs. They lead to stores like Ceramiche Artistiche “Giacomini” that sells hand-made pottery, painted by the women in the Giacomini family and a few of the other enchanting women that embody Orvieto.

They lead to places that have hearts. Places that are different and the same. Places that mean something, that have personal connections to the people of Orvieto. I envy the culture and lifestyle here. I envy it because it embodies everything good from the past and has acquired everything good from today. It is a contradiction of antiquated and contemporary, a paradox of “now and then” and a throwback to lucid times.

I traveled alone to Orvieto but I was rarely lonely. It is near impossible to be lonely in a place with such heart. I did not know much about Orvieto before I came but I will be leaving it in debt from the amount I have grown living here. I am not a believer in chance encounters and every path I crossed in Orvieto taught me a lesson to carry with me on my own journey. There is nothing better than solo travel because it opens you up to meeting people along the way. It takes you out of a life of comfort out of the limits and boundaries you have set for yourself and forces you to do things that you may have never been able to. For the first time, my life, my decisions were fully my own, not based on the influences of my friends or family, and that was the most liberating. If anything you have to put yourself in new, daunting, and uncomfortable situations to truly grow.

Although I was alone in Orvieto, I was rarely lonely. And when I was lonely, it was because I chose to be and that choice I have learned is a beautiful thing. My time has come to an end in this beautiful Neverland, in Italy’s best-kept secret, but I will not say good-bye because in the words of J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan himself said;

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.”

So I will say this.

Arrivederci Orvieto!

I’ll be seeing you.

About the Author: My name is Margaux Reaume and I am currently a senior at the University of Arizona. I am looking forward to receiving my BA in Creative Writing come May and I hope to get a job in publishing.

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

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Mexico, My Mexico

WARNING: Mexico can become addictive.

For the last thirteen years, I have traveled in and out, and up and down this intoxicating country. I have left it many times, only to return again. Nowhere else have I felt the joyful welcome of such a beautiful culture filled with love and friendship.

The joy of walking the street of a new city, and hearing “buenos dias” from the mouths of every passing person is like receiving a giant hug along with your morning coffee. The amazement of meeting a person one day and having them remember your name can make you feel like a VIP, but it is simply the way life in Mexican villages.

The food alone will make you want to never leave this country of such delicious cuisine, whether it is fine dining under the stars, or eating their famous street food. Being invited to make tamales alongside the owner of a famous restaurant made me believe I should have been a chef until I saw my clothes covered by the masa and tamale juice, while the other ladies were spotless. Nevertheless, it was the laughter that filled my heart, and no one loves to laugh more than a group of Mexican ladies sharing their tamale secrets, and neighborhood gossip.

Oh, the fiestas and the Christmas Posadas are to never to be missed. In Mexico, the nine days before Christmas Eve are filled with neighborhood Posadas. A Posada is the reenactment of Joseph and Mary’s pilgrimage to Bethlehem, but more so it is a time to eat, drink, dance in the streets, break piñatas, and visit with the neighbors. I swear Mexico has more fiestas and parades than anywhere in the world. Their parades are almost as good as the Rose Bowl parade in the US. The normal parade is filled with thousands of students, marching, dancing traditions dances, and even wild gymnastics building human pyramids five bodies high. Oh my, then there are their horses. The Mexican cowboy (Caballro) is magic on his amazing dancing horse which will lift its legs and move its body to nothing more than a slight movement from his rider’s knees or feet. I’ve never been more impressed by anything, as much as these horses and riders, because I came from a family of rodeo people. The rodeos here are so old time wild west crazy that I would never miss one if I’m in the area where one is being held. It is much better than the Sunday cockfight or bullfight.

Not to be outdone by all the activity one can find here, the music is so diverse it will tranquilize, hypnotize, or excite my ears on any given night or afternoon. There is the traditional mariachi band with their colorful charro suits and sombreros, or perhaps the folk music of a ranchero band. If you want a happy musician just make a special request and a small donation and they will play their hearts out. My favorite will always be La Bamba, and every group knows it. If they know me I always hear Donna made famous by Richie Valence, and he is still loved by young and old in Mexico and by me also.

I used to work six days a week, now I play seven days a week in the most beautiful, warm, clean water off the Pacific coast in Zihuatanejo, Guerrero, Mexico. Due to these perfect beaches and pristine ocean I have indeed become a beach bum, and a diehard fisher-lady. Somehow I was lucky enough to wander into this small fishing village, and I believe I have found my Shangri-la. My little oasis allows me to live cheaply, eat well, play hard, and have a smile on my face 24/7.

I’m sorry, but I don’t have an extra moment to spare. I must hurry away as I hear the fish are biting off the rocks at Madera beach, and they may be gone tomorrow. Adios amigos.

About the author: Donna Morang is the author of Big Backpack–Little World, and The Wild Side of Alaska. I presently live in Zihuatanejo, Mexico where I teach ESL (English as a Second Language) and continue with my writing.

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Holy Land in Israel

” Where did David fight Goliath? Where did Abraham almost sacrifice his son Isaac? Where did Jacob dream of the angels going up and down the ladder? Where was Moses leading the children of Israel to the place they called the land of milk and honey? Where did Jesus born and crucified?” my pastor used to say. “It is in the land of Israel.” I loved hearing these stories when the Sunday school at the church. For those who grew up Christian, as I did, Israel was the Holy Land — where Jesus lived, preached, died on a cross and then rose again. Thus, travel in Israel, for many, means visiting these holy sites and walking in Jesus’ footsteps. Wow! What a place that must be. I will go there one day!

Israel is a place that inspires me to spend my time wisely with no regrets. Because in Israel, I would like to do a spiritual journey, especially in Jerusalem. Spiritual journey in the Holy City of Jerusalem – Holy Land Trip, and visiting historical sites are a source of spiritual inspiration experience will not be forgotten. Jerusalem, that has meaning the Holy City is a source of human civilization, proven by all the tourist destinations that have high historical value. Many travelers who have been many times and even dozens of times, made a pilgrimage holy city, but they still can not afford to lose a lot of admiration for destination that recorded in much of the literature, even noted in Scripture passages.

Jerusalem has a lot of place that must be visited by travelers. One of them is Garden of Gethsemane. It’s known as the place where Jesus formerly prayed at night before He was arrested and taken to the house of the high priest Caiaphas (Matt. 26:36). The meaning of Gethsemane is the place where the olives pressed in Hebrew because the location of the garden of Gethsemane is on the slopes of the Mount of Olives in an area where there are a lot of olive trees and located not too far from the city of Jerusalem. In this place, there is a cave that is believed used previously by Jesus with His disciples to rest. Today, near the Garden. there is a church called the Church of All Nations and the Grotto of Gethsemane. And in the garden is still growing olive trees are believed to have been more than 2000 years old, or has grown since the time of Jesus. I feel it’s a special place because it has beautiful scene with its olive trees as a shade place so we can feel calm that can relax our mind.

Besides known as spiritual journey destination, Israel is also known as a popular medical tourism destination especially as a result of its international reputation for high quality healthcare and state-of-the-art medical facilities. It is one of the world’s main medical leaders and is the most cost-effective of the top options. The country is also became number one in health-related innovations. Israeli-invented medical equipments have created a practical contribution to all areas of medicine. Israel’s medical tech and biotech industries are the most advanced in the world. Moreover, the winning collaboration of medical research institutions and industry, has bridged the gap between basic and applied science; making it easier for new technologies to arrive at our doctor’s doorstep. The most up-to-date research and development extracted from the public universities and research institutes coupled with the rapid progress made by medical manufacturers has proven unequivocal success.

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