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Photo Blog: Croatia + The Balkans

Photo Blog: Croatia + The Balkans

I’m still pinching myself in disbelief that such an amazing week is humanly possible. The Balkans remain at the top of my list of places to travel. I’m torn between shouting from the rooftops that you must run as fast as you can to the breathtaking Dalmatian coastline and keeping it close to the chest as my own little hidden gem that remains mostly unspoiled. Although it seems reckless, it feels selfish not to share, so here it goes…


Split, Croatia


We started and ended our journey in Split, Croatia—a beautiful waterfront town that has a rich history, dating back to Roman rule in the 4th century AD. The impressive structure, Diocletian’s Palace, remains as a nod to it’s former glory.

Most of us were completely wiped out from our journey, but we did manage to sneak in a delicious wine tasting before dinner. We also sampled the locally-brewed Rakia, which one traveler jokingly noted resembled Mountain Dew—the taste, however, is quite different.

We ended the night on the rooftop bar of our hotel which has arguably one of the most beautiful views of the city skyline.


Mostar, Bosnia + Herzegovina


From there we traveled by bus to Mostar, in Bosnia and Herzegovina. We were instantly taken by the remnants that stand as an ever-present reminder that the Yugoslav Wars were quite recent—bullet holes lining walls and buildings and shells of building frames stand as a looming ghost of it’s bleak past.

The local shop keepers and vendors however, are bustling with the recent tourism boom after covid. The town is a time capsule— a juxtaposition between past, present and future.

We had a lovely, but honest walking tour with our host, Sheva, who shared Mostar’s complex history with us. His personal experience during the war was moving and candid and gave us tremendous insight into the realities of war on innocent children—fishing with grenades, rigging makeshift bicycles to get electricity, and complicated blurred lines between family, friend and enemy. He was a shining example of the resilience, forgiveness and hope that the human spirit is capable of.

As a local diver himself, Sheva was able to give us insight into Mostar’s famous sport—diving from Stari Most and even arranged for us to meet one of the young diving recruits. The sport has gotten so famous that Red bull sponsors a a diving competition from Stari Most each year.

We ended our time with a Turkish coffee experience—learning all about the growing, harvesting, and brewing process. Even the non-coffee drinkers in the group were faced with a challenge to their coffee biases.


Ston, Croatia


From Mostar, we returned to Croatia by way of Ston—a local salt-producing village surrounded by immense stone walls known for it’s unrivaled oysters. The sea is saltier in this region than most places and it produces some of the best Oysters in the entire world!

We also visited a family-run winery with our guide, Tonka, and learned about the different ways the local grapes can be harvested to produce countless different types of wine. We again encountered some locally-brewed Rakia and everyone left warmer and happier than they arrived.

On the ride to Dubrovnik, Tonka entertained us with stories from her days as an extra in the HBO hit series Game of Thrones. Needless to say, we were all very impressed to know village woman #20!


Dubrovnik, Croatia


In Dubrovnik we completely lost ourselves in the luxury of our hotel—most travelers even opted to skip dinner just to sit by the sea and watch the impressive sunset.

The next day, our local guide Tom took us through Dubrovnik and gave us both a fascinating history lesson and a private peek into some of the secret filming locations in Game of Thrones. Even those unfamiliar with the show were ready to go home and binge watch it after our afternoon with him. Together, we climbed the fortress and took in one of the most beautiful views Dubrovnik has to offer.

That evening we had dinner by the sea and watched as the most impressive moon rose over the Adriatic. It’s a night none of us will never forget.


Kotor, Montenegro


From Dubrovnik, we drove to Perast, Montenegro and hopped a boat to the man-made monastery Our Lady of the Rocks. Legend has it that local fishermen collected stones and slowly built the island over time. The locals still have a tradition of bringing a stone once a year to continue their work of expanding the island.

Our boat driver took us from the monastery straight to the dock at our hotel, and many of us felt like James Bond as we rode through the waves.

We headed into Kotor’s Old Town that afternoon for some shopping, cat museums, hiking, and so much gelato, before returning back to our beautiful hotel to swim, risk our lives paddle boarding (special thanks to Speedo Steve for saving one of us from getting tangled up in a rope) and taking in the breathtaking scenery.


Lokrum Island, Croatia


The next day brought us back to Dubrovnik for an afternoon exploring the island of Lokrum. We ate, pet peacocks, jumped off of cliffs, and sat on the Iron Throne. It was an amazing way to spend the afternoon before heading to the highlight of the trip—dinner with Marija and Zlatko!

Our local Croatian hosts were kind enough to have us over for the most amazing dinner of our lives. Zlatko and Marija cooked a literal feast of peka for us in the traditional way—slowly cooking over hot coals in an iron bell. We tasted Zlatkos home-brewed rakia, and ate proscuitto straight from the source!


Split, Croatia


The next day had us heading back to Split to say farewell to Croatia, but first many of us chose to stop at the kitschy, Froggyland museum—the lifeswork of an eccentric early 20th century taxidermy artist and easily the best $10 I’ve ever spent!

We ended our tour with an amazing dinner and found ourselves again at the rooftop bar for a final cheers and a quick laugh at some funny things that had been said along the way. All in all the trip was a dream—the destination, the hospitality, and the friendships we made were hard to beat!

Ice, Ice, Baby... Iceland, that is!

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Ice, Ice, Baby... Iceland, that is!

Why Iceland, you're asking yourself? Well….

It all started with a bet. Jordan said more people were interested in going to Iceland than Israel. I disagreed. I may have even guffawed. He couldn’t believe someone that traveled as much as I do could be so unaware of the cultural goldmine that is Iceland. I couldn’t believe that anyone within a stones throw of the Bible belt could ignore the fact that Christians essentially exit the womb with a burgeoning desire to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. So like the logical people we are, naturally, we took to our Facebook page to settle the debate. We created a poll with several hot destinations including Iceland and the Holy Land and attempted to unbiasedly manipulate our friends and family into voting on where the most appealing travel destination was. Maybe you even innocently participated in it.

As much as it pains me to admit defeat, Iceland won out by a landslide. I was shocked with the results, but I’d be lying if I said that this was the first time Iceland had piqued my interest.

A couple years earlier my friend and fellow travel enthusiast, Ashley, had visited the good ole Land of Fire and Ice and his pictures left me speechless. Whale watching, the blue lagoon, volcanoes! How had I so mistakenly assumed that this beautiful country was nothing more than a big floating Iceberg?! It turns out, that was the point.

Legend tells that the earliest settlers, the Vikings, literally named it “ice-land” to trick their enemies into thinking they hadn’t stumbled onto the natural treasure trove that they in fact had, and using the ole grass-is-greener switcheroo, insisted they instead head to “green-land,” which is in fact, an actual floating iceberg. Genius move. (I also read that this is a bogus account of how this island got its name, but since I moonlight as a literature teacher, I’ll wink at its historical inaccuracy since it makes for a good story).

Now that Iceland was back on my radar I started to see it everywhere. More and more friends were visiting and sharing their pictures, I would read articles about it in magazines and on Facebook, heck even the Real Housewives of Orange County went there, not to mention its repeated appearances on Game of Thrones. It was after overhearing a couple of students gush about Iceland that I decided I was sick of being a bystander. I wanted to see this mythical land for myself.

It took me a few months of nonstop research to decide where exactly in Iceland we should go, what time of year would be best suited for our purposes (prime northern lights viewing times, for example), and how long to make the trip, but I finally did it. Since starting Land + See one of my favorite things is diving head first into a new destination and learning its nuances—hand picking each little nook and cranny of the tour and trying to uncover all the hidden gems along the way. I’m a little obsessed with not feeling like a tourist. Authenticity is always my focus.

I hope you like what I planned. I put my heart and soul into this tour, and while I’m generally a pretty cold-natured person, I couldn’t be more excited about this “hot” destination.

Be on the lookout as I’ll be updating you with day-by-day details periodically in my blog, but for now, here’s a little taste of how our Iceland tour came to be. You can check out the full itinerary by clicking HERE. Iceland here we come!!

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Mystery Man

Mystery Man

Somewhere out there is a man who has no idea how our chance encounter has altered my life (and maybe a few others too). I don’t know where he lives, what he’s doing now. Hell, I don’t even remember his name—but I do know I’m grateful we randomly met.

He was assigned the seat next to mine on a 9 hour flight to Rome. I felt bad for him. I’m sure he hadn’t bargained for such a long-haul sitting next to a 5-month-old and a stressed-out new mom covered in baby puke. Poor guy. Naturally we got to talking and I asked him why he was traveling to Rome. Turns out he wasn’t. It was just a stopover on a trip to Amsterdam to see the Tulips—he and 30 other passengers. I was flabbergasted. It got better. Not only was he traveling with 30 other people, they were senior citizens and he was LEADING them through Europe. I didn’t even know people did that.

He was raised on a farm, got married young and naturally became a farmer himself. He saw that as his bread and butter and his way of life until noticing a huge void in the senior community in his town. He was from somewhere in the Midwest and wanted to make a difference so he started by hiring buses and taking seniors on day trips to get them out and about. From there it grew into a full-fledged tour company and he had entirely devoted his life to connecting people with the world around them, personally escorting them every step of the way. I’ll never forget what he said. He said, “I was a farmer. I have no education, but I’ve seen the entire world and now I get to share that with other people. Do you have any idea how fulfilling that is?” Talk about living your dreams, right? He asked me, “What are you doing with your life?” I took a hard swallow and said I was a high school English teacher, feeling suddenly unimpressed with myself. “Perfect,” he said. “You need to start sharing the world with your kids. If someone like me can do it, what kind of an impact can someone like you make? You have your whole life ahead of you.”

He praised me for my bravery in taking a 5-month-old to see the world and encouraged me not to stop there. At the time I was embarking on what I believed to be my last trip to Europe. I’d been once before in high school and had high hopes of becoming a world traveler. I promised myself that one day I’d go back. But one day turned into one year and slowly life began to happen. Before I knew it I was married and had a baby on the way. Society told me my chance was gone. We praise the young unattached twenty-somethings, encouraging them to seize the day while they can and explore and so on, but once motherhood calls, we are supposed to kill that hunger to roam and replace it with an urge to compete with other mothers about who’s birthday party was the most pinterest-worthy, who breast-fed longer, and who sacrifices more for their children. It’s a great calling, don’t get me wrong, but I never considered that there was an alternative way—that I could (with more bags and more work) wrangle my own children and traipse through foreign lands. I especially didn’t think I could do it with other people’s kids. Was it a lot of work? Totally! Was it worth every hassle? 100%!!

The mystery man and I exchanged pleasantries the rest of the flight, but his words stayed with me. What was I doing with my life? Is it really possible to share the world with kids like that? Senior citizens, sure, but students?

It took me a little over a year to work up enough courage to take my first trip, and also a gentle nudge from a colleague, but I took the leap and it has turned out to be one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. I used other tour companies as a crutch at first, believing that I needed them as a security blanket, that I was just some frail little woman who needed their knowledge of all things travel. It didn’t matter that I had over 15 years of travel experience or that I’d lived abroad for a year. One day, with another gentle nudge, this time from my husband, it hit me. They are just dudes in a cubicle. They are no different than I am. The only thing that separates me from that man on the flight is that when my dreams come knocking, fear makes me ask them to come back another day. I was tired of paying big bucks for someone else to do something I enjoyed so much—the planning was the fun part. Deciding where to go, what untouched gems to discover, local traditions to learn from, flavors to taste for the first time—these are the things I love, and things I totally didn’t have a hand in when I was outsourcing tours to someone else—I was petrified that I wasn’t worthy.

Sixteen countries later and my very own tour company and I can’t believe I ever worried that one trip was going to be my last. But collecting stamps in my passport is hardly the best part. By far the travelers are what make the experiences so worthwhile.

Watching travelers is hard to describe. It warms places in my heart I didn’t even know I had. I’ve witnessed many beautiful moments while traveling. Here are a few of my favorites. I had the privilege of watching a dear friend of mine come alive after heartbreak, realizing her life isn’t over just because her marriage was. She took a huge leap in coming on the tour and watching her take the reins of her life—refusing to be a bystander--was a beautiful thing to witness. Another great memory was watching a couple on the brink of divorce rekindle their love for one another while on tour and rebuild a strong and healthy foundation for their family. I’ve seen strangers take on other travelers as their own children when they were in a tough spot or low on money. I’ve seen beautiful friendships (that would NEVER happen in a traditional school setting) develop and blossom as a result of travel. I’ve seen students who receive special services absolutely flourish with self-confidence and adaptability as a result of travel.  Barriers are broken down. People are challenged, and they ALWAYS rise.

I could go on and on, but I promise I won’t. I have been able to truly realize how blessed I am because of the experiences and connections travel has helped me form with students, friends, family, and strangers who become some form of all of these things. If you have traveled with me or entrusted your children to my care: THANK YOU! You guys are amazing! I truly believe that giving your kids the experience of travel is setting them up for a lifetime of success. Also, those that invest in themselves and travel know what life is all about: people, history, culture, connections—you name it, travel does it!

I wish I could find that man and thank him, but the likelihood of that happening is slim—believe me, I’ve spent hours randomly searching “Midwest Senior Travel Company” and scouring pictures on the internet hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. My students, friends and anyone who has traveled with me and benefitted from travel have him to thank! I wish I could tell him to his face, but since I can’t—let’s honor him by living our own lives to the fullest every day. Whatever that means to you, get out there and DO IT! For me, that’s sharing the world, one person at a time. If that sounds like your cup of tea too, come with me! Seriously. No catch. Just us making the world our oyster. We may know each other well, we may just be acquaintances, or total strangers, but I know after traveling we will all feel like family.

 

 

Taking Flight

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Taking Flight

I've yearned to travel the world for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories is on an airplane. I remember the bumpy circular patterned-floor of the airplane aisle and the massive chairs of the airport lobby. I'd scoot to the very edge of the seat and stretch my feet out, but, like most three-year-olds, I had a long way to go before my stumpy legs would ever reach the floor. I remember the flavorless pretzels the air hostess passed me right after she pinned a shiny silver set of wings on my shirt. I felt so important.

It was a memory that was to stick with me for a long time.

I don't know where we were headed, but likely it was to visit family in North Carolina or maybe this flashback that I can't seem to shake comes from the long trek back home. We were living in Hawaii at the time--a long way from my parent's childhood homes and far from the tight-knit families they both came from. Neither of my parents are big travelers so it's still surprising to think that they ended up on Oahu--and even more curious that they spawned a child like me. In many ways I'm an anomaly. I don't have the laid-back personalities characteristic of my family, preferring details, deadlines and organization, over their go-with-the-flow approach to most ventures, I don't have their beautiful tan skin, after a bout in the sun I have a lobster tone that no one would ever describe as 'sun-kissed', but even more odd is the fact that I have always felt an insatiable urge to roam.

Maybe I keep going back to this early memory because it was so unusual for us--our family trips consisted mainly of long car rides to places we had friends or family, never flights--or maybe it was because my best friend would come home from choir trips with exciting stories of riding trollies through the steep streets of San Francisco or buying knock-off purses in Manhattan. Whatever the reason, the desire was there--unfulfilled. That is, until my Aunt Julie invited me on a trip to Arizona with her family when I was ten years old. We had long since returned to the East Coast permanently and they were going on a family vacation with three of their children. The boys had each other to pal around with, but their daughter was solo--enter moi! 

It was incredible! Not only did we have the most amazing vacation--riding through the desert on horseback, dune-bashing in a hummer, line-dancing with certified cowboys, and swimming until we were wrinklier than prunes--I got to fly again!

It lived up to every childhood fantasy I'd imagined it to be. I watched as the buildings got smaller and smaller, my face glued to the window watching the ground below. It mesmerized me as the scenery below changed from green and fertile to dry, mountainous and brown. The fact that I ate breakfast on the east coast and would be having dinner in the desert was exciting. I imagined myself jumping through the cotton-candy clouds like a trampoline and sat in awe at the blueness of the sky above and below. From then on when planes would fly overhead it would blow my mind to think that those tiny little moving dots were filled with people just like me. I wondered where they were going and found it hard to fathom that enough people flew every day to keep the airlines in business--flights were still a pretty foreign concept to me. I remember hoping that I would grow up and have the kind of life that required air travel. I made a vow that if I ever had children I would take them on a plane and show them how exciting the world was. I wanted them to know what I now knew--that life wasn't the same for everyone. Unlike the large oak trees I climbed and the crawdads I fished out of the creek, some people saw roadrunners, scorpions and cactus blossoms when they walked outside. I knew that other places were different than my little east coast world, but now I had seen it. 

I really haven't changed all that much. Instead of quenching a thirst, that trip lit a fire--one that can't be contained. My desire to explore this world has become like a wildfire--starting with me but rapidly spreading to my friends, family and students, one by one. I still get thrills from travel, but now the strongest thrill of all comes when I see that spark lighting in someone else. When I see someone else coming to the realization that life as they know it isn't necessarily "the way"--that through experience we shape how we view the world. I hope to have as many experiences as possible before I exit this Earth. I hope my own children are blessed to see people from as many walks of life as possible--to learn that just because people have different philosophies than they do or alternative lifestyles that contrast with "their way," that we are all just people. Travel does that. It makes us realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things and how we are all connected to one another. 

Don't stay in your tiny corner of the world with only like-minded people your whole life. Be a pioneer, a game changer--travel, experience, taste, and do as many things as you can. You'd be surprised what you'll find.

 

 

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