Lisa Niver's Blog: We Said Go Travel, page 437

Exploring the fascinating Maldives

One of the most beautiful countries in the world and one that is most affected by global warming are the Maldives Islands. Located just to the south and west of mainland India on the equator, the nation of the Maldives consist of more than 1,200 islands, which are made up of 26 atolls. Only a few of these islands are inhabited. With a maximum altitude of only 10 feet, the islands are the flattest country in the world, which makes them one of the most susceptible places to be affected by rising sea levels. Now, more than ever is a great time to visit the country and experience one of the many attractions here. Exploring uninhabited islands, scuba diving with Hammerhead Sharks and snorkelling off the coast are all popular activities to do here.

The North Male Atoll is one of the most popular destinations in the Maldives and a great jumping off point for many activities. The Atoll is north of the capital of Male and is easily accessible by boat, which is only 30 minutes away, or only 10 minutes by airplane taxi. It is the closest inhabited area to the capital and therefore is the most popular and easily accessible place in the Maldives. Adaaran Select Hudhuranfushi is the place to stay here as they offer the best activities around the Maldives.

 

Snorkelling in the Maldives. Image courtesy of Google Images

Snorkelling and scuba diving in the reefs around the North Male Atoll are second to none in the Maldives. Close encounters to Hammerhead Sharks are the highlight of any snorkelling or scuba trip, as they are one of the most respected predators in the wild and one of the most bizarre looking as well. The warm tropical waters provide the perfect habitat for these truly majestic fish. Stingrays and multi colored corals and their fish are a common sight as well and can be found in abundance anywhere on the North Male Atoll. The surrounding areas around the atoll are the occasional ship wreck, where many species like to call their home as the ships offer refuge and can act as an artificial coral reef.

If snorkelling or scuba diving does not sound appeasing, perhaps visiting one of the hundreds of uninhabited islands would sound like a better option. With over 1,000 uninhabited islands in the Maldives, this is one of the most popular day trips as it is a truly one of a kind experience. No city traffic noise, pollution or people around means a truly relaxing experience that can be duplicated nowhere else in the world.

 

Exploring an uninhabited island. Image courtesy of Google Images.

Visiting these islands should be at the top of the list of any traveler as their beauty and uniqueness cannot be compared to anywhere else in the world. From snorkelling or scuba diving with Hammerhead Sharks to visiting uninhabited islands, the Maldives are a place that should be visited at least once in a lifetime, if not more.

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India: Within Agra Awe

Something I’m in Awe of. That’s a difficult one. Like many travellers, I have seen many beautiful and incredible things. And the reason I’ve chose this particular experience, was because by this time of my travels in Asia, they were coming to an end. I had seen so many things, and to be in awe, and yes that was the word I could only describe it. It was a feeling that I never thought I’d have at that point, nor never forget. My choice is down to two, maybe even three. I can feel that breeze, picture that view and smell the nature of Banaue Rice Terraces, the spectacular view overlooking the 4400 temples in Bagan, but for the first time visiting, I was never took back so much by seeing the very much published and popular, Taj Mahal in Agra.

Seven months into my travels, witnessed some of the most historical, religious and cultivating temples and monuments across places like Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar, Malaysia and Indonesia. Angkor Watt was the one I had planned that was going to take my breath away, it was wonderful, but didn’t meet expectations as much as I’d envisaged.

The Taj had something unique about it. It was almost placed there, specifically from the heavens. It almost looked like it had a make-over or had been edited on Instagram. Despite its age, it looked a work of modern architecture with an old fashioned touch to its creation. It sticks out at you like an IMAX movie in the distance. Despite the large number of tourists here, it still doesn’t overshadow its power and awe. Its simplicity but detailed structure was beautiful, a real gem that is India’s main attraction and to Agra’s benefit. Leading into this phenomenon of art, you first catch glance of it when walking through the archway that is attached to a museum.

When you look through this entrance archway you can see the Taj in the distance, almost the light at the end of the tunnel. It felt like I was walking to destiny, like a mirage waiting for you to get close. The walkway down to the Taj Mahal is lit up the water decorations, streaming down on both inner left and right sides of your path. Its exceptionally tidy, the area is clean and preserved, as if a King and Queen were due for arrival. Getting close, I was constantly looking up, with clear blue skies enforcing this masterpiece, my head peering up at the dome, with minarets on either side towering into the sky. It is a perfect fairy-tale location, a perfect place for marriage or celebrations to be held, it truly is worldly astonishing.

The design and details are extraordinary, the decorative elements consisting of carvings and designs made from stone and paint, conforming to the Islamic culture. The Iwan hall space is specific, and draws you into what beholds inside the body of this intriguing. The story behind the Taj Mahal was a love for one man to his deceased wife, and what a dedication it was, but for me that didn’t make it any more special than it was. The view I got from the Taj was it was almost for something else. It’s the cornerstone of India in many entertainment shows, movies and stories. We all live under the assumption that nothing is as great as we first think it is, and it’s not as impressive when in the reality, I was amazed that this made me take deep breathes and stare at its presence constantly.

Expectancy can be misleading, but truly this was something I was amazed over, this was something I felt Gratitude for, to have the opportunity to witness in the flesh, it was something that was either Awe.

About the Author: Tommy Walker: Avid Traveller Heart in Thailand Soul in Philippines Love to write Learning to Act History student Art fanatic Huge Soccer fan Sociably Great A fan of the movies From England, Male, 25 – Never stopping

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

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Bhutan: Trek to Taktsang Monastery

Trek to Taktsang monastery (Tiger’s nest)

“The road in front of you, which has been trodden by the feet of millions of pilgrims like you, is excessively steep and incredibly rough; and you, whose lungs have never breathed air above sea level, who have never have climbed anything higher than the roof of your house, and whose feet have never trodden anything harder than yielding sand will suffer greatly. Times there will be , a-many, when gasping for breath, you toil up the face of the steep mountains on feet torn and bleeding by passage over rough rocks, sharp shale, and frozen ground, when you will question whether the prospective reward you seek is worth the present price you are paying in suffering; but being a good Hindu, you will toil on, comforting yourself with the thought that merit is not gained without suffering, and the greater the suffering in this world, the greater the reward in the next.”

(From Jim Corbett’s “Man eating leopard of Rudraprayag”)

I had seen a picture of the monastery in the internet, some years ago and it had instantly captivated me prompting me that I should either paint it or make a model of it. I never imagined in my dreams that in a short while from then, I would be visiting and standing in that very place. During the recent visit to Bhutan, I decided that I should positively visit the monastery. The location is in Paro, a small town in a picturesque green valley surrounded by mountains. I made inquiries around about the prospects of climbing up to the monastery, perched on the edge of a precipitous cliff on top of a mountain. The replies were that the climb would be stiff if not impossible for a city dweller like me.

Ponies were available for climbing, but to me it had to be on foot. I glanced up at the monastery on top of the cliff and it was daunting whether the task I had taken on myself was achievable. Anyway, the die was cast and now there was no going back. The rough foot path gradually sloped upwards over gnarled tree trunks and over ground strewn with fallen pine cones. The narrow path soon got quite rough, very steep, with boulders and rocks and sharp bends. Birds of many varieties chirped all around, a cool wind blew and it started drizzling. All along the track, earlier climbers had built small cairns out of rocks and stones piled delicately one on top of the other.

Soon a pack of ponies crossed me carrying visitors to the monastery. An old man riding a pony, commiserated on my plight and commented that it was all for the enlightenment. I was strongly tempted to hold the tail of one of the ponies to ease my climbing. However, the pony shortly cocked its tail and deposited a load of steaming manure and I thanked myself for not having followed my instinct.

Views of the ground I left below could be seen through gaps in the trees and I found that things down there had got quite small in the past two hours that I had been climbing. The walking was for the most part alone, with only myself and nature to keep company with human souls around. An hour more into the climb, I heard the most welcoming and wonderful sound of prayer chanting trickling down from the monastery somewhere high above my head. Then I had my first closer view of the most beautiful monastery, through a gap between tall cypress trees. The last stretch of the track was a huge U, the track first going above the level of the monastery and going down sharply hugging the perpendicular face of the cliff before raising sharply again to the monastery.

I was just in time to reach the prayer before it ended, sat with the group of monks clad in crimson robes, got the blessings from the head Llama who placed firmly on my head the Vajra for his blessing. The head Llama was the center of reverence and attention by those who surrounded him. After the prayer, I was proffered biscuits and a most welcoming cup of hot tea by a group of girl devotees, which helped me to recover my poise and bearings. All the exertions of the last two and half hours evaporated into thin air and I was filled with immense happiness and gratitude on having reached this most wonderful place in all of Bhutan. I also felt very humble reflecting on the immense dedication and faith that enabled those who had carried the huge, heavy rocks, timber and other building material to the tip of this precipitous cliff and built this most beautiful edifice of worship and prayer.

About the Author: Namachivayam: I am an engineering professional with a keen and insatiable appetite to visit places, meet people, and experience their culture and heritage. An associated passion is the sharing of such wonderful experiences with others. I believe that each such visit opens up new windows and makes one appreciate the most wonderful and amazing planet that we live in. I am on LinkedIn.

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

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My Santa Cruise

We slowly made our way into the park in Jeremy’s dashing Toyota Prius. We were welcomed by a huge white board with the inscription “Santa Cruz Beach BOARD WALK” at the entrance. I took a picture in front of the sign, striking a very fashionable pose with my feet crossed over the other.

My excitement matched Jeremy’s, even though he had already visited the amusement park severally. He bought the best caramel apple synonymous with the Boardwalk. I bit into it and my tongue had to wade through the yummy gummy caramel before I could get to the scrumptious apple. Giant Dipper was our first ride “It is a National Historic Landmark, a giant wooden roller coaster” He explained dipping his hand into the popcorn bag and gathering a fistful. My fear of heights made me initially concerned about the safety of the ride but his enthusiasm rubbed off on me and I relaxed.

The queue at the Giant Dipper was long, while waiting we played a little game. Jeremy told me to look out into the crowd and pick a guy I wouldn’t mind dating. It was fun trying to find a boyfriend from a sea of nameless men. It finally got to our turn, I got into the first row and Jeremy sat beside me. I held onto the restraint as the train departed the station and immediately entered the tunnel, it slowly climbed the 70 feet and I just knew I was in for a big scream. As the train dropped, I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, bent my head and screamed at a very high pitch that even an opera singer would definitely envy. I nearly passed out. I think my heart got displaced because I felt something drop to my laps. It was exciting and very scary at the same time. I had no idea when the ride ended, it was Jeremy who gave me a gentle pat and I opened my eyes. I discovered that my displaced heart was actually my glasses on my lap.

He was already looking forward to the next ride, “This will make you philosophical because you will have all the time in the world to think while sitting on your head” he said. There was no point of taking his claim with a pinch of salt; by this time I believed that even a launch to the moon was possible. There was even a longer queue at Rock-O-Plane. It was as if the more daring a ride was the more endearing it seemed to people. We climbed into the little cage, after being firmly strapped in, a lady locked us in. We rocked and rolled as the ride gathered sufficient momentum, our seat flipped upside-down and I was hanging at the top defying gravity. I had no idea initially that Jeremy could control our movement because we stayed in that position for some time and then he locked our seat at crucial angles during the revolution. The ride became more intense in the erratic spin. When I realized that others were not moving at the same pace with us and observed the glee on Jeremy’s face from an awkward side glance, I begged him to stop. It was funny watching the world from an inverted position. I could see about a thousand heads waiting impatiently for their turn and a beautiful ocean view. “Was it mind-blowing enough?” Jeremy asked me after the ride, “Awesome” I replied. The best things in life are sincerely enjoyed when you are with someone who is eager to enjoy them with you.

Loggers Revenge was a nice relief. I felt like a cartoon character in the tree-trunk canoe with a big hole in the middle .I sat in front while Jeremy sat behind me. We floated up a watery track and I drank in the rich panoramic ocean view. There was no tension; instead I took pleasure in the sheer aesthetics of nature: water, earth and sky. A pool of gratitude formed in my heart and felt my valves give way for its distribution to every fiber of my being for this unique opportunity to be here with no worries about the past, present or future. I kept anticipating the final drop but when it came I was totally unprepared and enjoyed the wetness!

It was eight pm; the sparkling lights of the boardwalk were more noticeable in the dark. I could not see faces clearly but my nose was not oblivious to the distinctive aroma of corn-on-the-cob grilling somewhere. I could imagine its sweet taste but I was just too full to squeeze in any more delicacy.

As we left the park, I felt entirely grateful to Jeremy, my dear friend and host through him I experienced a perfect blend of a true California experience and the thrills of a classic amusement park.

About the Author: Queen-Esther Egbe is a Nigerian writer who loves traveling and writing about it!

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Guatemala’s Children: From Forced Labor To The Classroom

From Forced Labor To The Classroom:
Maria and Carmen’s Second Last Chance

Guest Post by Luke Maguire Armstrong

Today, everyone reading this has an opportunity to not just travel the world, but make a difference in the lives of those in need they encounter along the way.

It is difficult to believe that I first met Maria and Carmen four years ago. It was my second year as director of a development project in Guatemala and though I had seen a lot, I had not been prepared for the realities a visit to a garbage dump near the foot of the volcano Acatenango. A friend in colleague who ran the projects anti-human trafficking program first brought me there in his effort to help break out two families from their forced labor situation.

The garbage dump was perpetually on fire due to spontaneous combustion of chemicals trapped deep below. Above the roaring volcano let out occasional rumbles followed by a dusting of ash. “Hell,” my colleague called the place. But if this was hell, what had these children before me done to get here?

Amid the noxious chemicals, a half dozen children, shoeless and clad in rags, were collecting garbage. Every day during daylight hours they were sent into the refuse to salvage plastic bottles and aluminum cans, earning on a good day around forty cents.

Over weeks, months, and then years, the program I represented was able to take some of these children in and put them in school. Without that intervention the children likely would not be with us today, would still be in the garbage dump, or would have grown older and been put into the even more vicious sex trade.

WATCH: INTEGRAL HEART FOUNDATION DOCUMENTARY GUATEMALA

The years they spent in the project were at times a trying change for them to adjust to, but it was ultimately successful. Maria who attended school on the same grounds where my office was often appeared timidly at my door. I was perpetually busy, but always stepped away from my work when she came. We would color with crayons and talk. I remember in particular when my parents came to visit the warm embrace she gave my mom, overcoming her shyness for an instant. We promised these girls one thing, that if they continued to study, we would continue to support them.

After four years in the field, I returned to the United States to put writing on the front burner, while continuing to support development efforts when and where possible. I am not privy to the details of what led to them leaving the project. I do know that the anti-human trafficking state department grant that my colleague had procured was not renewed after our wake.

I doubt decision to discontinue promised ongoing support would  have been made were there other options. But whatever the reasons may have been, Maria and Carmen, after three years of schooling, were back out on the streets. That news felt like a line from Rudyard Kipling’s poem, to watch the things you gave your life to, broken.

Integral Heart Foundation

Thankfully is not strong enough a word, but I’ll use it. Thankfully, in the end, this work was not broken and Maria and Carmen were not lost to the streets. Today they are supported in their home life and studies by a charity I have been close to since they were founded: The Integral Heart Foundation. Their simple model of “Nourish, Learn, Socialize, and Transform” is working. They continue to work to grow so that their efforts can continue to make tangible and sustainable differences.

Development is not about “saving people” it is about evening the playing field and giving children like Maria and Carmen the tools that they need to have the choice to do more than merely survive. Maria and Carmen have made their own decisions that they want to study to get an education and live a life where survival is not a daily struggle.

You, the reader, are part of a generation that is thirsty not only to experience the world, but to use its advantages to help ensure that the world does not forget about people like Maria and Carmen. The starting premise of philanthropy is that human beings do not just have the inner desire, but also possess the inner ability, to help reach out and help children like Maria and Carmen. You have this ability.

This giving season, this site is taking part in the Travel Bloggers Without Borders campaign to raise enough funds to provide education for 55 children in Guatemala such as Maria and Carmen. By clicking through (and asking others to do the same) and making a donation of whatever you can ($1, $15, $25, etc… ),  you contribute in a very real way to changing someone’s life.

Please help us by spreading the world and making a donation today. Don’t just travel the world; help make it a better place for everyone!

About the Author: Luke Maguire Armstrong (TravelWriteSing.com) once fought a bear and almost died. Haters later claimed it was “only a raccoon” and he was “acting like a baby.” Luke took offence to this, since he used to be one. When he is not being mauled by animals, Luke is an author and travel writer who has spent the last five years working in human rights and development from Guatemala to Kenya to The Bronx. He is the author of four books, including “How We Are Human” and “iPoems For the Dolphins to Click Home About.” Follow him @LukeSpartacus and he will sing you songs.

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Georgia, Blue Ridge Mountains: Travel That’s Good for the Soul

In April 2013, Dad died suddenly and unexpectedly. It was a crushing blow, but thankfully, I had already planned a June trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains in northeast Georgia to visit friends at their vacation home. The day I left for the 450-mile trip dawned mild and pleasant for a June day on the Gulf Coast. I took turns driving with my best friend and the long trip up I-65 reminded me of the many trips I had made to see my folks who lived 300 miles north of me in Birmingham. As we crossed into Georgia and neared sprawling Atlanta, I thought of the hundreds of times my Dad drove through there on business trips. I imagined how lonely he must have been as he traveled week in and week out without my mom who was his best friend.

As we left the city behind, the landscape slowly began to change, and the sorrow that had settled like a fine layer of volcanic ash on my soul began to lift. Subtly, the land rose upward as we grazed the edges of the lower Appalachian mountains which all good Southerners refer to as “the Smokies.” The curves in the roads sharpened some and rose and fell with the undulating foothills. Four-lane highways dwindled to two-lane roads and at times, our only companions were the vibrant trees which jockeyed for real estate with the asphalt.

It took the better part of a day to wind our way into the tiny hamlet of Young Harris, Georgia, where our friends’ house sat perched 3000 feet in the air like a sentinel overlooking the lush valley. After a delicious homemade supper, we sat on the wrap-around porch and watched the fireflies flit around in a darkness so complete they looked like a synchronized orchestra of camera flashbulbs popping. For the next several days we roamed around the nearby towns and traveled to Brasstown Bald, which at nearly 5000 feet, is touted as the highest point in Georgia.

On the ride to the bald, towering fuchsia rhododendron and delicate, pale pink mountain laurel flanked the roadside. As we climbed the narrow, winding road to the visitor’s center, the damp air grew cooler and the mist which perpetually shrouds the mountains descended on us. Eschewing a hike, we rode in a van to the peak where the temperature dropped about 20 degrees. When we reached the top of the mountain, the sun peeked out and the mist blew away. Our guide said it was the first time all day the weather had cooperated to reveal the mountain’s breathtaking 360 ̊ views.

I leaned against the railing, squinted into the sun and watched tiny chimney swifts flit around below me. As cotton-ball clouds drifted by, the only sound I heard was my breathing. No traffic. No sirens. No mental white noise. Just the hushed intake of cool, refreshing mountain air. In the silence of that brief moment, I felt a peace come over me. A few days later, my friend and I traveled northwest toward Tennessee and the Blue Ridge Parkway afforded more spectacular views of nature’s gifts. Dad was constantly in my thoughts during the trip and I wished I could regale him with stories of my vacation as he had shared his travel stories with me. But I knew he wouldn’t want me to be sad and if he were still here, he would’ve wanted me to go on the trip and enjoy it. For Dad, travel had always been a part of business, but he still found joy in the places he visited and the people he met. For me, travel had always been for pleasure. But this trip offered much more. It provided healing and peace and gratitude for a dad who taught me to persevere through difficulties while embracing all the beauty life has to offer.

About the Author: Christie Lovvorn makes her home in Mobile, Alabama where she is a freelance writer and an English adjunct lecturer. Last year, her short story “A Stormy Wedding” placed in the top ten finalists of the Familyfiction.com Create Romance contest. Follow her on her blog.

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NYC: Women’s Travel Fest March 8, 2014

Women’s Travel Fest 2014

The Women’s Travel Fest is a one-day event on International Women’s Day March 8, 2014 that will inspire you to take on the world and find more meaning in your travels.

Been thinking about traveling but feel intimidated? Want to get passionate about finding your place in the world? Hoping to meet other awesome, empowered female travelers? This is the festival for you!

Presented by Go! Girl Guides, the Women’s Travel Fest will get you pumped to travel as we share knowledge and tips on everything from how to travel through the Middle East as a woman to body image and sexuality abroad. We’re coming together to talk openly about the things that just aren’t addressed elsewhere, so that you can feel inspired, empowered and make newfound travel connections.  Samantha Brown and many other exciting speakers are on the schedule. Who do you want to meet?

How did this get started?

The Women’s Travel Fest is a one-day event that aims to inspire & empower women to travel the world, and help them make newfound travel connections.

The idea was born in 2011 while founder Kelly Lewis was on a press trip in Thailand along with Jerri Stephenson of Do It While You’re Young. Both women’s travel writers, the two started wondering why a festival like this had never been done, but it wasn’t until 2013, after Kelly had completed a successful cross-country book tour, that the wheels began turning.

While on tour, Kelly connected with women of all ages (from 12-82!) who were in different phases of life but were equally as interested in finding out more about traveling safely. She heard the same thing over and over again, “I want to travel, but…” and as she worked her way across the country, the inspiration and energy that came from these discussions gave her goosebumps.

After she moved to NYC and met Mickela Mallozzi and Masha Vapnitchnaia, the three recognized it was time to do this on a bigger scale, and thus, the Women’s Travel Fest was born. We are so excited for the first-ever Women’s Travel Festival, and the support and energy we’re already receiving reaffirms to us that this event will be truly magical. We can’t wait to see you there!

Kelly Lewis: Founder 

Originally from Hawaii, Kelly is the founder of Go! Girl Guides, which publishes the world’s first series of travel guidebooks made just for women. The company was created in early 2011 and is dedicated to helping women travel the world safely and affordably. Go! Girl Guides has published titles on Thailand, Mexico, Argentina and London, with titles on NYC and Costa Rica forth-coming.

 

 Mickela Mallozzi: Co-Director

Originally the assistant to one of the world’s most famous metal rock bands (Slipknot), Mickela quit her job to start a journey around the world, taking her camera with her to follow dance in the lives of everyday people wherever she went. She is the host and producer of Bare Feet™ , a travel/dance web series where she ‘experiences the world, one dance at a time.’  She is a classically trained dancer as well as a trained musician and is very much inspired by folk dances from around the globe. Mickela and the Bare Feet™ web series have been featured in The New York Times, Dance Magazine, Yahoo! Travel, Travel + Escape, American Express, AFAR Media, Matador, Expedia, Travelocity and more!  She has performed on various television shows including Sesame Street, The Doctor Oz Show, TBS’s Movie and a Makeover, and she has performed in prestigious venues such as Central Park’s Summer Stage and the Kaufmann Concert Hall.

  Masha Vapnitchnaia: Co-Director

Born in the USSR, raised in the Bronx, educated on three continents in three languages, Masha often struggles with her identity and her plane fare. Her love of Indian folk dancing, Buddhist temples in Tibet and Amok curries in Cambodia have further complicated the issue. Currently, she is preparing for a year of walking pilgrimages around the world covering no less than 5,000 miles. Her feet will leave their mark in Tanzania, follow in the footsteps of Alexander the Great in Turkey, walk around Mt. Kailash in Tibet, enter 88 temples in Japan and trek to Machu Picchu in Peru. In addition, she hopes to find herself walking in France, Palestine, India, Antarctica, and in Spain for one more month-long stroll along the Camino de Santiago. Follow her as she makes her way at unlikelypilgrim.com

Get Your Early Bird Tickets now until Dec 31st!

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Sitamarhi, India: Faith Rules The Town

Ramayana- the Hindu epic presents the story of God Ram and Goddess Sita, who survive through several odds, win over the evil and spread the good.

The journey to the birthplace of Goddess Sita was adventurous. The Air India flight landed safe on Bihar’s capital Patna at 1 PM and we had to travel another 5 hours by a private car to reach the designated town- Sitamarhi.

“Which are the places to visit in Sitamarhi,” I asked the Car driver on way.

“Oh, you are visiting for the first time Madam,” he started. “It is a beautiful town. Lot of greenery! And the most famous attraction is Punaura, the place where Goddess Sita appeared as a gift to King Janak.” He shared.

“As a gift? She was the daughter to Janak, right?” I enquired.

“Yes, but in those times, kings used to get children in form of blessings. Sita Maiyaa (Mother) was a blessing from Dharti (Land).” He explained.

We reached Sitamarhi at 7 PM and it was already dark. The driver helped us find a reasonably comfortable hotel where I had the famous Litti-Choukha (a famous dish from Bihar) for dinner and slept off.

The morning showed me the town, the people, the food and lot more! Sitamarhi is a small but advanced town comprising several convent schools, fashion markets, cake and pizza houses, theatres and modern mentality. Landing at Punaura in the afternoon, the guide showed me the land from where Goddess Sita had come up. Her tiny footprints were engraved on the flooring of the temple created in the vicinity. I found people visiting the temple with lot of faith and hope. I hope Goddess Sita listens to them and frees them from their problems.

“Yes, if you make a wish with true heart, Sita Maiyya fulfills it. Then you need to come back to the temple to thank her,” said the guide.

The temple is surrounded by a beautiful park and pond, beautified with several Sanskrit Shlokas written on stones and walls around. The peaceful atmosphere hinted me why people from all over the world come to India for their soul-searching endevours. I could find few tourists who had arrived all the way from London to visit the temple. This indeed was a famous town!

Outside the temple I found several stalls selling the famous Mithila painting. It is believed that King Janak had hired special craft-men to design his palace with Mithila paintings during Sita’s marriage with Ram. These paintings are created with a special ball-pen and unique set of colours. They are exported in bulk to international market.

The famous Janaki temple situated in Sitamarhi is also dedicated to Goddess Sita. The temple, made of white marble receives more than 1000 devotees daily. “You know Madam, whenever a girl is born in the town, people visit the temple and pray that the girl owns the traits of Goddess Sita, who is considered to be an ideal daughter to King Janak and an ideal wife to Lord Rama,” informed the guide. Yes, faith rules strongly.

As I left the town to venture to some other ‘less-heard but impactful’ place, I took an idol of Goddess Sita with me. I believe it will remind me of the devotion of the people of Sitamarhi.

They say – True belief can make stones melt!

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Vienna is ready for Santa to come

Vienna is home to the world’s oldest Christmas market. In 1294 it started off as the “December market” and over the years it has morphed into what you can enjoy now in Austria’s capital city.

Christmas Markets all over Europe have some characteristics which define them:

they are usually held during Advent; first Advent Sunday was Dec 1st in 2013.
they are held in town squares and adjacent to pedestrian zones
they sell food, drinks – mulled wine, cider, punch -, seasonal items
they are accompanied by traditional singing (carols)

Vienna is special because there are more than one Christmas Market to enjoy. Good news for your travel plans but probably bad news for your wallet. Generally speaking, the market goodies are not expensive. But they surely add up. If you want to keep the souvenir mug consider it’s 2.5 euros a pop (at the Town Hall market) or 2 euros (at Schonbrunn market), then pretty much anything costs from 5 euros.

The markets come to life during the late afternoon but you might want to engage in some free things to do during day time. Sure, the photo opportunities are amazing at night, but you’d be amazed of how many interesting and funny things you can shoot during the day, too.

Christmas Markets in Vienna

The most popular market takes place in the square in front of the Town Hall. It is called Vienna Magic of Advent and, until December 24 is home to 150 stalls. You can get anything related to a Christmas Market here; from things to put in your tree, to food, drinks and souvenirs. You name it, they have it.

Sticking to the town center, walk along the Ring (continuing towards the Parliament from the Town Hall) and keep going on the tram route. Between the Natural History Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts, there’s a smaller market (just 70 stalls). It is called Christmas village on Maria-Theresien-Platz and of course, you can find everything Christmas related here, too.

Wait, you are not done with the center. Old Viennese Christmas Market on Freyung. Retrace your steps to Volkstheater U-bahn stop and then take U3 to Heerengasse. From here walk to Freyung square, home to a market since 1772.

Hop on the same U3 back, stop at Stephanplatz, connect to U1 for another stop and exit at Karlplatz to check out the market here. This market is noted for the handicrafts (and is also a very young market, celebrating 20 years in 2013).

Now make your way to Schonbrunn. Hop on U4 to get there. This market turns into a New Year’s market from December 27 until January 1. It is smaller than the one at the Town Hall but also less expensive. Worth the trip especially if the weather is nice and you get to walk in the gardens as well.

Other markets are open in front of Belvedere Palace, on Spittelberg, on Riesenradplatz and, for the first time ever, in Stephansplatz (just 26 stalls).

Tip: Vienna is one of the cities in which it is totally worth it to get Vienna Card. It offers 72 h free transport in the city and discounts to many museums and attractions. Price is 19.90 euros / adult.

All photos by Traveling Cricket and may not be used without permission.

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Wwoofing in Kaitia, Cape Reinga, New Zealand

The Place Where Life Begins and Spirits Move On

The thing about exploring new places, is that it is entirely up to you to make it the experience you want it to be. Of course there are outside factors that can influence or even derail your intentions. And ultimately, no matter how much you try to plan your memorable moments, you never really know how much impact a place or experience will have on you. It’s up to you to take the risk, knowing it might be worth the extra effort in the end and it might not. And ultimately, the decision to take that risk is determined by your mood and your willingness to experience something new.

Today, December 24th, was one of those days. Take it or leave it. The kind of day that yes and no carry the same weight – a certain kind of neutrality. As Wwoofers, there is an unwritten rule that we work 4 hours a day in exchange for room and board. Part of our morning was spent at the market in Kaitia, New Zealand, running a booth for our hosts. We knew before we left the market that we hadn’t put in nearly enough work for a single day, so we’d have to find a way to make that time up. We intended on doing this before sun down.

After market we choose to head north for the afternoon to explore. The intention is to check out a beach famous for its impressive and uninterrupted coastline, one that supposedly runs for 90 miles. Once we leave town, the number of roads intersecting with ours quickly diminish. And not surprisingly, we miss the poorly marked turn off which would lead us to this infamous beach. According to our own arbitrary timeline, we now have less than two hours until we should report back to work, but to make our time spent worthwhile, we decide to try the next access point before turning around. Minutes pass and we find ourselves at the halfway point, the point between where we started from and the most northern tip of New Zealand. We take the next option for a turn and we find ourselves driving down a sketchy gravel road for some kilometers. To our dismay, it dead ends at a private driveway.

Time is up. Really, we should turn back. But frustration quickly turns to determination to see something greater than this dirt road. We’ve been driving long enough for what was meant to be a quick afternoon outing and have nothing to show for it. Although we’re expecting to be disappointed once we reach the very tip, curiosity takes over and we go for the risk and figure the rest out later.

The approach is like an artichoke. We slowly peel back the layers winding our way through the changing landscape spotted with dunes, wetland, forest, and ocean. Occasionally we stop to get a closer look and get acquainted with the scenery that’s leading us north. Eventually we arrive, to the good earthy center that is the fruit. Here we are, committing ourselves to this unexpected moment at Cape Reinga; a place we originally chose to ignore and up until only minutes ago, a place I anticipated we might easily forget.

I am 100 feet above sea level; walking on a runway that demands my feet to stop well before my eyes ever could. The preoccupations that filled my mind just moments earlier have been silenced and I stand here in awe as my eyes slowly sip in the sea that lies forever beyond me.

Looking out at this breathtaking and expansive panorama, I am reminded of my slightly insignificant existence as I am slapped across the face by the winds that haven’t yet decided where to land. I am red-faced and humbled as I witness a wondrous and inevitable event – the crashing convergence of the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean. A place where, according to a Maori folklore, a man and woman, represented by the two seas, join together to create new life. It is the point, not only of creation, but also of new beginnings. These two massive forces of energy make love to each other out in the open completely exposed and vulnerable, unaffected by their ever-changing audience. Surrendering their individual shades of blue, their currents rush into each other embracing like lifelong partners who haven’t seen each other in decades. The timelessness of this relationship overwhelms me, though I find myself comforted by their constant compromise.

To the east, an 800 year-old Kahika tree stands tall in a precarious location on a rocky peninsula. For the Maori people, this is the place, the end of the earth, where spirits descend into the underworld. A gateway of sorts. It is said that the roots of the tree form a staircase towards the sea, providing a means for the spirits to leave their life on earth and enter into the next realm.

To the west is life; to the east is the afterlife. There is nothing more than this.

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About the Author, Erin F Gallas: As someone who enjoys and appreciates the small things in life, writing has become a creative outlet that helps me express my perspective. I work as a full time case manager at a homeless youth shelter in South Minneapolis, which challenges my patience, but gives me great fulfillment. Other things that bring me immense joy include traveling with my husband, practicing Kundalini Yoga, spending quality time with family and good friends, and watching our vegetable garden grow.

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