Join me on my new site...as I launch my new business!

I have very exciting news to share with you. 

I officially graduated from Blogger and have fully redesigned a site on Squarespace. Same URL: www.aseriesofadventures.com, but a whole new world! I'm using MailChimp to manage a newsletter for readers...so please head to the site and sign up. I want to stay in touch. Big changes are coming. Big.

The most exciting news is that I've teamed up with Danielle LaPorte to bring one of the first-ever Desire Map experiences to Salt Lake City, Utah. I'm designing in-person workshops and overnight retreats, as well as building an eCourse soon to be open to anyone and everyone!

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know how transformative The Desire Map has been in my life. I'm on a mission to help others discover their own Core Desired Feelings and live their most adventurous life. This is going to be epic. Join me on the new site, get on the newsletter, and stay tuned!

Love,
me

Coming Soon: Mediterranean posts + photos

Hello everyone! It's been a couple weeks since I've posted here...and that's because I've been on a travel writing assignment for The Avid Cruiser. I sailed the Mediterranean with a cohort of journalists from all over the world, accompanied by a representative of Holland America's PR office. It was an unforgettable experience.






If you missed my earlier post about this experience, or if you didn't follow along with my daily Live Voyage Report articles, know that I'll replicate all of the photos and articles on this site. It may take me a while to wrap it up, but it will end up very similar to my posts about my last Avid Cruiser assignment in Alaska.





In the meantime, I posted in real time on Instagram and Twitter. You can also see photos in my Flickr album. Stay tuned for wanderlusty goodness!

Love,
me

72 Hours in New Orleans

OCD may travel, but she never takes a holiday.

Technically I'm in The Big Easy for a week, but the fun bit before I switched gears into attending a work conference was three days and some change. My younger brother lives here, working as a History teacher in the KIPP charter school system after two years with Teach for America. The great part about having a friend living in the city you're visiting is your adventures aren't limited to the downtown core that you explore on foot. Ryan and I cooked up a few adventures that the average tourista in New Orleans would never have experienced.

He took me to his favorite all-day breakfast joint, Jimmy J's Cafe.

While at dinner the first night I was here, we flipped through the local indie weekly. We found two festivals that sounded adventurous and took us out of the city. One night we traveled an hour away to Luling, Louisiana to check out the 35th Annual Alligator Festival. Thirty-five years celebrating alligators. Let that sink in for a minute. Oh, The South, you're adorable. There was an ironic lack of alligators in attendance at the festival, which was disappointing. There were, however, plenty of alligators on the food vendor menus.

America is the great cultural melting pot, right?

Since we were in rural swampland Louisiana (no seriously, we drove straight through a swamp to get to Luling), the food was authentic and fascinating. I've been to the south many many times, but I felt like an anthropologist reading the menu: Alligator burgers, alligator sausage poboy, shrimp poboy, fried (un-named) fish poboy, alligator sausage on a stick, jambalaya, bbq pulled pork, crab cakes, beans and rice, bread pudding, crawfish pasta, chicken and andouille gumbo, hot boiled turkey necks, crab boudin balls with creole mustard, bbq ribs, sweet potato cookies, praline cupcakes, and you get the idea.

Small town festivals are a blur of Americana and thick accents.

The website promised "HAND CRAFTED merchandise with Alligator images. Massproduced items, including T-Shirts and posters, will not be allowed for sale. We hope to provide the festival attendees with high quality alligator-related souvenirs." My hopes were high. Low-quality alligator-related souvenirs are the worst. Alas, 85% of the "craft" vendor booths were filled with random Made In China bric-a-brac. Oh well. The organic soap maker, you know there's one at every festival market, was legit. Also, this guy was really the only artist (pictured below). He'll paint a custom piece for anyone who asks, just name the animal you'd like hanging on your dining room wall.

Seafood art on reclaimed swamp wood. Because Louisiana.

The next night we drove nearly 90 minutes outside New Orleans to the town of Houma, Louisiana (which we insisted on calling "hummus" with a hard H, naturally). Houma is home to a two-day music festival called The Best of the Bayou. When I realized Better Than Ezra (from Baton Rouge, local boys made good) was headlining I was 15 all over again and rocking out to "Good" on my Discman. I've seen them a few times in Salt Lake City over the years of touring, I still own all their cds, still know every word, and still think Kevin Griffin is pure sex. It was an awesome show. They played two full hours for a happily sweaty crowd packed into the humid Houma Main Street. For free!!

I loved you then. I love you now. Marry me.

The next night we indulged in the quintessential, cliche-for-good-reason, New Orleans evening: Dinner and jazz on Frenchman Street. We ate at my brother's favorite restaurant Marigny Brasserie, a place we visit every time I'm here, and then wandered until we heard jazz. That's one thing I love about the French Quarter, you're guaranteed no less than 20 musical options in a 10 block radius. Just keep walking and stop when it interests you. We ended up at Maison and really enjoyed the set.

Hardworking local musicians passed the tip jar and said goodnight after a two hour set.

Assorted wanderings and memories written with light...

Two kinds of people in this world: Bourbon Streeters and Magazine Streeters. Period. 

Dining in the Quarter...there's nothing quite like those floor-to-ceiling window/doors. Distinct and stunning.

I had a great time adventuring around Southern Louisiana with Ryan and his tan line...but it's time for me to get to work.

My home / office at the moment. The Roosevelt, now a Waldorf Astoria property, was built adjacent to the French Quarter in 1893. It's alright, I guess. I mean, it's no airport Marriott.

More exploring. More architecture. More foodie adventures. More Big Easy goodness over the next three days. Perhaps another blog post, perhaps not. I leave for Europe (writing a Live Voyage Report for Avid Cruiser as I cruise the Mediterranean) two days after I arrive home in Salt Lake City. Join me! Follow my new adventures on the Avid Cruiser website, or always on Instagram and Twitter in real time. 

Love and lagniappes, 

me

Living the Dream: Holland America Press Trip to the Mediterranean

Regular readers will remember that in May I traveled to Alaska on assignment for The Avid Cruiser. I sailed the breathtaking Inside Passage courtesy of Princess Cruises. Through daily articles posted on the Live Voyage Report website, I was able to take for a test drive my life's dream of being a travel writer + photographer. Predictably, I was hooked. It was difficult work, late nights, early mornings, and not at all a leisurely cruising experience. I told Ralph (aka the avid cruiser himself) I would not only do it again, I would do it every day for the rest of my life. He was impressed with my work and invited me to join The Avid Cruiser team with an open invitation to future Live Voyage Report opportunities. Coolest job interview ever? Nailed it.

The view from this office cannot be beat.

Well...I have exciting news! My next opportunity to contribute a Live Voyage Report is as a member of a nine-person press corps sailing the Mediterranean with Holland America in October. It felt surreal enough writing from Alaska and realizing...dude, I'm like living my dream right now. So the sensation coursing through my body as the Holland America PR office continues to refer to me as a journalist...is nothing short of euphoric. Hell yes. Journalist. Me. Travel writer. Good at it. Doing it. Done.

It reminded me of a lesson I learned in preparing for Alaska: You are because you say you are. Jen Sincero makes a brilliant point in her book You Are a Badass. I'm paraphrasing, but she basically says: You want to be a photographer...but you don't take pictures. What sense does that make? Conversely, you take a lot of photos and it's a significant passion for you, but you say you're not a photographer? Why the hell not? What's a photographer then? Someone who takes pictures. So go do that. Say you're a photographer. Aren't you? Then go do it some more. You are whatever you say you are simply because you said it...then did something about it. 

Dear Universe, I am a journalist. I am a traveling storyteller who makes beautiful photographs and will share all of that badassery with all of you in just a couple weeks. I'm rocking an international data plan on my iPhone, so feel free to follow along in real time on Instagram and Twitter, and be sure to read the daily Live Voyage Reports.

However, before I jet off to Italy, Spain, France, and Tunisia, I'm going to New Orleans. Next week I'll visit my brother who's made a home in The Big Easy. Same situation with realtime goodies posted to Instagram and Twitter. I also hope to post about the New Orleans trip on this site while I'm there. Stay tuned!

Love and living the dream,
me

I Failed! Also Titled: Why My First Rejection Letter Is So Awesome.

Look, ma! I got a rejection letter from Porter Fox at Nowhere Magazine. Nowhere is hands down one of my favorite travel writing publications. It's my niche. Ever since I found them, I've felt like I could actually do this. I could travel and write and be me and carve out even a tiny resting place in the galaxy of travel writing. If you've scrolled through more than a thousand "Best Of..." "Top 7 Ways You Know You're Canadian..." "Five Reasons Thailand Is Better Than Seattle..." click-bait links, and you're as bored with them as I am, Nowhere is for you. Literary travel writing. Storytelling. Experiential travel at its best. Light on the overwrought lists. That's Nowhere. I submitted an entry to their Spring Travel Writing Contest and this is the response that I (and obviously countless others in the BCC field) received:

Why is failure exciting? Why am I so stoked to get rejected by a publication I revere? Because a travel writer who failed is still a travel writer. That sting is a far better feeling than sitting in my living room at my laptop wishing I had the guts to knock on Nowhere's door. People that I respect in the industry read my work. They didn't love it more than the work of the 11 people listed in the email, but that's not the point. It immediately brought to mind the infamous Theodore Roosevelt quote that inspired the title of Brene Brown's book Daring Greatly:

"It's not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the person who is in the arena. Whose face is marred with dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."

Love and many more failures to come,
me

A word on clarity, declarations, and the power of your voice (part two)

This is the second half of a two-part post. Click to read the first installment, in which I talk about the relationship between clear declarations and living the life you want to live.

Diagnosis: Hashimoto’s Hypothyroiditis. 

The butterfly-shaped thyroid gland in the front of our throat regulates metabolism and energy. I recently learned my body is home to an autoimmune disease that has shut down my thyroid. Furthermore, my immune system creates antibodies to attack my thyroid when it tries to turn back on. There is no cure. It doesn’t go away. There is only lifelong management, daily medication, and a new normal. I don't feel qualified to discuss the medical details of the disease, I’m still reeling and researching, I’m simply here to thank The Universe for the lessons my new reality is teaching me.

By not expressing my fully authentic voice, I was slowly killing myself. Literally and spiritually.

The task The Universe has lovingly handed to me is one of reconciliation with my own voice. The need for this healing sits literally in my diseased thyroid / throat, and sits spiritually in the expression of my fully authentic voice. The metaphysical correlation between the two is real and it's urgent. I felt that correlation wash over me the instant the fourth specialist I'd visited looked up from my seventh round of lab results and said, "Hashimoto's Hypothyroiditis," touching her throat.

I show distrust of my authentic voice whenever I live by rules I didn't create for myself. I neglect my authentic voice when I say yes but feel no. I disrespect my authentic voice when I strive to align my life with people's opinions of who I should be. I abuse my authentic voice when I numb out in any number of unhealthy ways and mask shame with meticulously curated perfectionism. In true perfectionist fashion, I've absolutely mastered all of it. I've carried on for decades.

The disease is genetically inherited (my mom was diagnosed one month before I was), but what I need to forgive is the fact that I am still responsible for much of what fed this disease for years prior to my diagnosis. I've built a successful career in higher education in which I use my voice all day every day; a voice that is intelligent and insightful, expert even. I was traveling and consulting nationally, keynoting conferences in packed hotel ballrooms when I was 24 years old. I completed a Master's degree on my own time and dime, and became a department head by age 27 because I wanted to lend my voice to big visions and change the system. I worked 60-hour weeks for a decade straight because I was driven, obsessive compulsive, and mistakenly thought I could handle it. I've stood my ground and ended relationships with the anemic religion of my youth and the disrespectful men of my twenties. No one who knows me would accuse me of being passive; but while I can cite all that active expression in my life, what I need to forgive myself for is simultaneously frying my adrenals, destroying what little thyroid I had, ignoring my body's requests to slow down, and pushing aside my fully authentic voice, telling her "someday."

No more someday. Now.

My authentic voice is now clear about the life I actually want to live. My authentic voice has unapologetically declared my intention to quit my job and travel the world. My authentic voice knows that living the life I want to live is not irresponsible, it's not selfish, it's not naive or shortsighted. It's brave. Period. My authentic voice knows the work that needs to be done is really fucking hard and really fucking scary. I don't know what it looks like to not have a full-time job providing my salary and health insurance. I don't know what it looks like to travel the world with an autoimmune disease that requires specific medications and treatments. I don't know how my body will react to the piles of new prescriptions pumping through her right now. I just don't know.

But here's the magic of speaking from my fully authentic voice: I don't need to know. 

The Universe is welcoming me with open arms, thrilled that I've made it this far. I can feel it with every chronically fatigued, shaky cell in my body. She'll take care of it. I will live my way into the answers. I will make this path by walking. My new mantra is what Jen Sincero writes in You Are A Badass: "Your job isn't to know The How, it's to know The What." I am crystal clear on my What. My declaration is made. It's happening. Living my way into The How is now my co-creative tango with The Universe.

Don’t you cry for the lost. Smile for the living. Get what you need and give what you’re given. You know life's for the living so live it, or you’re better off dead. (listen to Passenger sing one of my favorite songs)  

Love and lots of healing,
me

A word on clarity, declarations, and the power of your voice (part one)

I've been in a declarative mood as of late. Perhaps it was the sun in Leo's lion providing vicarious courage. Perhaps it's Mars in Scorpio, forcing a warrior spirit to wrestle everything into the light. Perhaps it's the culmination of years of quiet dreaming finally overflowing its threshold. Perhaps I'm now crystal clear about how I do and do not want to spend my life. Most likely it's all of the above in a perfect storm. Declaring to myself and others that I plan to eventually quit my job and travel the world is scary and exhilarating. It's also a game changer, the declaration alone. I've learned a few things, deep deep down in my bones learned, since making that declaration. Namely:

Declare. Do the hard work that clarity requires...then declare the shit out of your dreams. 

Danielle LaPorte is my spirit animal. The Desire Map is without a doubt the most radical paradigm shift I've ever experienced. I was raised in an organized religion, left of my own accord in my early twenties, spent a decade rebuilding a worldview on my own terms; and yet not even that paradigm shift compares to The Desire Map blowing my world wide open.

Every creation the world has ever known, from a lightbulb to wheels to the Mona Lisa, began with a desire of some kind. Likewise, everything you want to create in your life begins with a desire. Every desire must be defined and clarified and refined and seared into a new way of life, a daily practice. It's not casual wanting, or listless hoping that some day something will happen. It's active. This desire is a living thing. It defines you as you're defining it. You're co-creating with The Universe. Woah. Dude, I know.

The reason you need to be crystal clear about your desires is because...

The Universe not only pays attention to your desires, she wants all of it for you as much as you want it for yourself. Probably more. 

I wrote about the energy that shifted the moment I declared that I plan to eventually quit my job and travel the world. What I mean by "shifting energy" is that since making that declaration, it's all I can do to simply keep up with The Universe. She was waiting. Patiently. For years. She knew this was coming. She hoped I'd get here. She hoped I'd be courageous enough to realize admit this is what I want need. By the time I did finally catch up and own the full declaration of it all, she came flooding in. I can actually hear her sigh of relief, "Yes...this. It's so time for this. You have no idea the degree of awesomeness that's about to overtake every inch of your life." She's so stoked that I'm dialed in to the possibilities she sees for me. What does that flood look like? Opportunities to travel*, resources to learn and grow and keep my vibration high**, a serious medical diagnosis that's a terrifying blessing in disguise***, abundant support from strangers as well as friends, financial avenues that three weeks ago I didn't know even existed, and the deep satisfaction of knowing that I nailed it. I'm aligned. I'm in the zone. There's no going back now. Had I not been crystal clear with my desires, I could have and would have pursued any number of paths that might be fine, but not this right.

I'll be back soon with part two of this post, re: the correlation between my diagnosis and the power of our voice. I'll bring a lot of love (both gentle and tough) and permission with me. Stay tuned. Until then, wise words from author and civil rights leader Howard Thurman:

Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Love and desire,
me


* Exciting news about the next step in my travel writing career coming soon. 
** I'll share these resources in a separate post coming soon.
*** I'll practice what I preach and speak with courage about my diagnosis in part two of this post.

Staying Motivated in the Pursuit of Epic Dreams

"I asked myself, can you do this? I answered, I will try. So I'm curious if I can. If I make it, I'll know I can. I've crossed a boundary." - Laura Dekker, sailor

I recently took a leap of faith. I made public my plans to turn a dream of RTW travel into a reality. I felt the energy shift immediately: The new get-specific phase is distinctly different from the wishing-and-hoping phase. Even though long-term travel is basically all I think about, I'm a realist who knows it will be difficult to successfully maintain my stressful full-time career, save enough money to travel for at least one year, and have sufficient energy reserves to dedicate to planning and to this website. Not even 24 hours after my post went live, it's like long-term traveler Matt Kepnes (aka Nomadic Matt) read my mind. He published an article on his site about staying motivated to travel. Okay, Universe, I'm paying attention. In summary, Matt's seven ways to keep motivation high:

Hold yourself accountable. Research places to go. Devote time. Read travel blogs. Read books. Learn a language. Take a break. 

To his list, I would add a tactic similar to blogs and books: Movies. Specifically travel documentaries. The films can be about places you want to visit, experiences you want to have, or simply about inspiring people who make you realize you want it all so bad you can barely breathe. I recently watched two travel docs on Netflix that I highly recommend.

180° South is about a group of climbers and surfers who have a goal to conquer specific mountains in Patagonia. The journey to Patagonia (by sailboat) is as epic as the time spent adventuring with the founders of Conservacion Patagonica once they arrive. The moment that resonated to my core: "If I don't get on that boat, I know exactly what I'm going home to. If I do, my future is unwritten." The film is beautifully made, the narration is thought provoking, and the men are wicked hot. If beards and adventure and pristine landscapes and travel are your thing, enjoy. You're welcome.




The second film is Maidentrip. Laura Dekker was all of 13 years old when she began her plans to circumnavigate the globe in a sailboat. Solo. No follow boat. No support team. Simply put, "I want to travel the world. I want to see all the places, not always the same stupid thing. In Holland you get money, a car, a house, kids, and then you die. I don't want any of it." Many may consider her a rebellious teenager, and there are obviously elements of that spirit, but I consider her a highly self-actualized human being. I cannot tell you how inspired I am by Laura. She filmed the entire trip, which took 519 days and covered 27,000 nautical miles, and turned it into a documentary feature.

I can't say it more perfectly than 16 year old Laura did at the end of the film: "I wanted the storms. I wanted the calm. I wanted to feel loneliness. I wanted to know what it felt like to be the sea. Now I know. It was an end of the dream I had as a kid and it's the beginning of my life as a sailor."

Laura Dekker remains the youngest person ever to solo circumnavigate the globe in a sailboat.

Another line from 180° South that struck a cord: The best journeys answer questions that in the beginning, you didn't think to ask.

Love, motivation, and staying open to magic,
me

RTW Adventure. Yes, I said it.

It's time. I've flirted with this long enough. Anyone who has known me longer than three minutes knows my life's passion is travel. I'm at my best when I'm in motion. I'm also passionate about writing, photography, and building communities. As Danielle LaPorte declares, it's time for me to:

Push. Turn up the volume. Go hard. Go harder. Re-prioritize your aches and pains. Infuse your sensitivities with courage. Tell fear to fuck right the fuck off. Devote to Done. Decide to be one of those people who pull it off.

What am I going to pull off? An around-the-world adventure (RTW in internet speak). I've talked about long-term travel for years, but not until very recently have I really let it sink really deep down in my soul, letting it rest in the place where I really know I really need to pull it off. Not even just want to pull it off at this point, because we're passed that. Need to pull it off. Full on need. There was a distinct moment when it all shifted. A moment when I realized that the fear of not doing something, the fear of regret, overpowered the fear of doing that thing. This is that moment. A RTW adventure is that thing. Writing and photographing and inspiring other people to take the leap is also a part of it. 

Up to now I've said this out loud to only a few kindred souls. The most common, well-intentioned question: What about money and your career? My answer is two fold: 1) I'm saving my pennies and becoming BFFs with an abundant universe; and 2) Institutions of higher education will be here when I get back. My resume will be here when I get back. In fact, speaking of my career in higher ed, I'm framing this adventure as a sabbatical. Granted it's a sabbatical that I fund entirely on my own and must quit my job to pull off; but that only means I have ultimate freedom over my time and the terms of my travel.

The wish list below is 100% fluid and ever-changing (click for the permanent page link that houses the dynamic list). The point is that there is power in the declaration itself. There is power in being transparent with myself, The Universe, anyone who reads this. The list is messy and unedited. It contradicts and repeats itself. It's a creative flow of energy and it's what I need to keep my momentum going. It will change and change some more and eventually, over time, it will narrow down into plane tickets and Airbnb reservations. As of right now, this is what I dream of most:

Location-based Adventures

I should just type one word and be done: Everywhere. There is no end to this particular list. I must say though, I was overwhelmed with gratitude as I realized all the places I've already been. This list is a continuation of those travels and full of (mostly) brand new adventures I've yet to experience. I realize not all of my bucket list adventures are in my location-based adventures list and vice versa. It's a game of free association and categorizing uncategorizable things. Just go with it. 

Visit every continent

Swim in every ocean

Stand at the North Pole

Stand at the South Pole

A National Geographic Expedition

Scandinavia (especially a family history pilgrimage based on my Danish and Swedish research)

Live in Copenhagen for whatever period of time feels like living and not visiting

Iceland 

Ireland

Japan

Morocco

Spain

Cuba

Canadian Rockies
Australia + New Zealand 

Easter Island - really so many islands in Melanesia, Micronesia, and Polynesia

India 

Bhutan

Nepal

Tibet
Croatia

Turkey

Greece

Patagonia

Transportation Adventures

I'll likely be flying most everywhere I go, but I'd also like to give myself a break from airports.

My own two feet on a pilgrimage (high on my list is the Camino de Santiago)

One of only a few civilians on a cargo ship

Trains (like these + the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway)

Sailboat (possibly as crew)

River cruises

Trans-Atlantic cruise

Lodging Adventures

I love my Hilton points as much as the next business traveler, but it gets a bit sterile after a while.

Airbnb

House sit

Monasteries

Live/Work farms

A glass igloo under the Northern Lights in Finland

Hostels

Conservacion Patagonica

Bucket List Adventures

Random stuff I dream of doing that feels too big and too exciting to be listed as a mere location. These feel more like once-in-a-lifetime experiences. 

Write for The Avid Cruiser as much as possible

As many UNESCO World Heritage sites as I can manage

Snorkel the Great Barrier Reef

Skydive. Somewhere. Anywhere. As long as it's tandem.
At least one night on a private, remote island (I must stop watching The Bachelorette)

Northern Lights

Pyramids of Giza, Egypt

The Great Wall, China
Sleep with an Italian. In Italy. More than once.

Petra, Jordan

Taj Mahal, India

Machu Picchu, Peru

Hot air ballooning in Cappadocia, Turkey

Logistical Considerations

My family traveled around the States a lot when I was young. I was 15 when I went abroad for the first time, with friends, to Russia. I've been exploring the world ever since in one way or another. I know myself as a traveler. I know my patterns. I know what puts me in the flow and makes me feel awesome, and I know what makes me tense and burns me out. 

Balance and alternate city trips with wilderness trips. Go go go then chill chill chill. 

Balance and alternate guided group experiences and getting lost all on my own. 

Balance and alternate luxury and budget experiences, from lodging to transportation to food. 

Balance and alternate solo travel with group travel, be it friends or strangers.

These balances and alternations are very literal, says the introverted Libra. For example: A hostel in the heart of Paris with packed days and colorful nights...then housesitting and grocery shopping in Nowhere, Norway...then a river cruise in China with guided excursions...then an Airbnb in Japan with an invitation to a friend from back home. Like that. 

Also, unplanned windows of time. This makes my palms sweat and I desperately want to color code something to calm myself down, which is exactly why I know I need to do it. For every ellipses you see in the itinerary above, add an undecided length of time filled with random whatever. Maybe it's additional time in the current or the next location. Maybe it's a quick stop somewhere between the two locations. Maybe it's a multiple choice game presented to readers of this site, letting you chose your own adventure with/for me. For real. The goal is space. Time. Allowing. Staying open to the magic of it all. 

Mighty Life List

I'll obviously update this site as I pursue my RTW adventure, but you're also invited to join me on Go Mighty. In fact, I challenge you to create your own Mighty Life List. It will take me a while to fully populate my Mighty Life List, but I kind of like that it's an ongoing process. Check them out! Decide to be one of those people who pull it off.

I'd love to hear from you. Have you tackled a RTW trip? Have you tackled any big dream, really? Let's talk. Let's inspire each other. Let's do this. 

Love and adventure, 

me

Salt Roads Feature: Serial Adventurer

Music. Film. Photography. Art. Fashion. Lifestyle. Event calendar for all things awesome in Salt Lake City. Enter Salt Roads. This innovative cultural aggregator site launched just last week and I was fortunate enough to be featured on their photography beat. Co-founder Sean Crossland interviewed me about travel writing and my insatiable sense of adventure. He asked excellent questions...and a few answers are things that not even long time readers of this blog know about me. Well done, Salt Roads.

Check out the full interview, along with photos from my adventures, on the Salt Roads site.

Q: Tell us a little bit about your background.

A: I was born in Washington state, grew up in Southern California and Utah, and have lived in Salt Lake City for 15 years now. I’ve traveled my whole life and feel most at home when I’m in motion. My first trip abroad was to Russia when I was 15. I remember standing in front of Saint Basil’s cathedral thinking, “This can’t possibly be real. If the world is actually this beautiful, I have to see all of it.” I’ve built a professional career as a college administrator, but I usually follow that statement with a qualifier about my real life as a creative soul, traveler, photographer, and storyteller.

Q: How did you get into travel writing?

A: It’s a tale of total dichotomy. I’m working at it very intentionally now, but rewind a bit and I actually stumbled into it. Technically I’d been doing it for years and years, but I woke up one day and realized…oh, this thing that I do is actually a thing and it’s called travel writing. I’ve been blogging since 2007, and tweeting and instagramming since the moment each platform was released. I’m an inherently communal person and an ethic of shared experiences is hardwired in my DNA. Sharing my travel experiences is simply an extension of my obsession with building and organizing communities. Poet Mary Oliver sums up my mantra perfectly: “Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

It wasn’t until December 2012, when I was sailing the Danube River eating copious amounts of gingerbread, that I fully and finally realized I needed to do this and only this forever. I met Ralph Grizzle, creator of The Avid Cruiser website, who happened to be on assignment on my ship. It was the perfect storm. I’d been timidly flirting with the idea that my life (and identity, if I’m honest) no longer needed to be defined by a stressful 9-5 j.o.b. I’d been toying with the notion that creativity was no longer a luxury, but a state of being I needed to achieve and maintain daily. He followed me on Instagram and proceeded to challenge me throughout the trip to consider taking what I saw a hobby more seriously. You can read more about our serendipitous meeting here. Fast forward to May 2014 and I’m on assignment for The Avid Cruiser in Alaska, writing daily Live Voyage Reports, and living a dream so surreal it’s still difficult to articulate. I’m currently in hot pursuit of the life of a full-time travel writer. Alaska inshrined the dream and there’s no looking back now.

Q: I know it’s impossible to pick a “favorite trip,” but share one recent memorable experience that stands out for you.

A: I recently spent a week in the Hopi lands in northern Arizona. We were there partially for a cultural immersion and exchange, and partially to serve the different villages and clans in any way they requested. The experience was profound in ways we never could have anticipated (as with all good travel). We cooked dinner in the homes of tribal elders each evening. We were blessed by a shaman in a sunrise ritual involving their sacred white corn. We learned about dry farming and helped a youth group plant seeds for the upcoming season. We sat in the living room of the famous potter Alice Dashee and listened to her tell us about her process, about how the spirit of the clay collaborates with her in the creation of her work. We were invited to a baby naming ceremony and were the only non-Hopi there. I stepped outside to capture a photo of the sun rising over the mesa, not realizing at the same moment that the young mother was walking to the edge to whisper the chosen name of her child. Only the mothers, and Father Sun, ever know the full Hopi name of their children. She caught my eye on her way toward the sunrise and smiled, nodding that I could carry on with my photo. The image of her silhouette against the sun is far and away one of my most beautiful travel memories. We were invited back this July to witness the Home Dance of the sacred Katsinas. We were among only 6 non-Hopi in a crowd of about 4,000. We were up at 4:00am and the first dance started as the sun rose. It was 115 degrees by 10am and he last dance finished after sun down. It was sacred, private, ceremonial, even somber. Absolutely no photos were allowed, so this travel experience will truly live only in my memory.

Q: Traveling as much as you do, you must have had a few bad experiences on the road, too? Care to share?

A: Everything from getting spit on, screamed at, and a machine gun pointed at my head by an angry Russian soldier in St. Petersburg, to sleeping alone overnight on the floor in a completely empty LAX. Of course airlines only lose my luggage when I travel abroad, never domestically where it would be quick and simple to replace everything. Teeny tiny French elevators are not made for Americans and their rolling luggage. Getting stuck in one for hours while the hotel owner is out to lunch qualifies as a near death experience in my book. My hotel in Venice flooded overnight, but that’s par for the course in a city build on pilings in the middle of a lagoon. I’ve shared hostel rooms with some purely insane people in my time and subsequently witnessed more thought-they-were-being-sneaky public sex than I care to admit. The real lesson though: Everything that sucks in the moment is simply a story to share later on. I don’t actually believe in bad travel experiences, I believe that all experiences simply come in varying degrees of awesome.

Q: What’s the one trip you have to make in the next five years? Why is it so important to you?

A: Denmark. No hesitation. My grandpa was born and raised there, coming to the states at age 23 to start a dairy farm and milk delivery business in Iowa. I’m researching my family history and have been for years. I dream of retracing his steps, and generations of steps, through the farms and churches and shores of Viking homeland. I still have all sorts of family there and part of the adventure is finding those people. Every true vagabond soul knows there are places in this world that even though you’ve never been, it’s home. That’s Denmark for me.

Also high on my list, to be the only civilian on a cargo ship delivering mail and fishing supplies to the remote fjords of Norway, to the tiny pristine villages only accessible from the sea. That needs to happen.


Whether you live in Salt Lake City or not, check out the Salt Roads site!

Love,
me

Soulful Travel Preparation: Guest post on Lane Letters

Given our mutual love of travel, it is only appropriate that Christy and I met via Instagram. I was in Alaska on assignment for The Avid Cruiser writing daily Live Voyage Reports about my adventures. I was also attempting to Instagram breathtaking vistas any time a rogue WiFi wave cooperated. Through the magic of the Internet, one click led to another and now strangers on opposite sides of the world are collaborating. Christy actually arranged a series of guests posts on her site, all around the theme of travel and/or living abroad. Check out the whole series!

My article published on Lane Letters is an extended version of what I originally published on The Avid Cruiser.

***

The realm of travel research and preparation is overly stuffed with lists and logistics. I’m guilty of it myself, as are most well-worn travelers. I have bookshelves piled high with guidebooks and endless Evernote files dedicated to locations I’ve either visited or am lusting after. I color code itineraries, read maps for entertainment, and research assorted minutia ad nauseum. I own being a total nerd who revels in trivia. For instance, these facts thrill me to no end: 470 Rhode Islands can fit inside Alaska and 89 percent of Alaska cannot be developed for human habitation. I’ll be spouting those factoids at cocktail parties for years to come. Years. Classic guidebook.

But something is missing. That something is the soul of it all. Quite frankly, the soul of travel can get lost in traditional travel preparation. In thinking about my recent Alaskan experience: What does list and logistic research actually tell me about the people who live in that wild land? What about the people who lived there first? What does a Saturday afternoon in July in Skagway sound like? What do the 200-foot spruces in Ketchikan smell like after the rain? What does salmon taste like when it was caught five minutes ago in the river below the restaurant? As I get older and continue to refine my travel skills, the predictable checklists simply mean less and less to me. It’s akin to the evolution of collecting experiences, not souvenir key chains. I want to experience a place with all five senses, with my soul. Hopefully once I give in to the experience and am seduced by the adventure of it all, I’ll leave with even a fraction of authentic understanding of the place I’ve just been.

If you’re interested in more than arriving, snapping three obligatory wish-you-were-here selfies near three famous monuments, and leaving, how do you prepare to really understand your destination? You selected it for some reason or another, so how do you really dive in and begin to learn about a land, a people, a culture, and the unfamiliar experiences so unique to travel?

Hint: Put the guidebooks down. All the way down, says The Former Guidebook Addict.

To give credit where credit is due, this liberating revelation (an act of permission, really) came to me by way of a creative mentor. Laura Valenti Jelen is a photographer and gallery curator based in Portland, Oregon. She designed and now teaches a series of online photography courses. In a course called Traveling Light, Laura suggests we ignite our artistic creativity in the process of our research. She tells us to immerse ourselves in the poetry, music, visual art, literature, and soul of a place. Listen to Italian opera for two weeks before you venture to Rome. Read heaping doses of Kerouac if you’re planning an epic American road trip, or old mariner’s diaries if you’re ocean bound. Enjoy a Woody Allen movie marathon before you jet off to Manhattan. Watch Ewan McGregor’s documentary about circumnavigating the globe on a motorcycle…just for the delicious wanderlust of it all. Research regional authors and poets who not only call your destination home, but who write about the people, the land, the food. Dive in. Why not? I promise you will experience your final destination in a way you never thought possible.

I dove into three books for my recent trip to Alaska (but one is a now-hypocritical National Geographic coffee table book of stock photos and factoids, so ignore that). While I was sailing the Inside Passage, I read a book of poetry, Cartography of Water, penned by Mark Burwell. His lush descriptions of Alaskan wilderness, coastal rain forests, and isolated frontier life prepared me to at least try and soak in the grandeur of it all. Beyond statistics about annual rainfall, Mark taught me to smell the green. I sailed into Ketchikan at sunrise with these words fresh in my mind:

DREAM ISLAND

At the head of the bay

sits the island,

unreachable and rich as woman.

Knife edge peaks

are fallen slices of the moon

stuck in a hem of spruce.

The island floats

like a fabulous, green galleon

at the edge of the ocean’s dream.

Like the mountain and the spruce,

I join the dreaming.

I taste the salt in the magic,

water nerve. I smell the green.

I touch the cool waist

of the planet.

I also read the memoir of a woman named Miranda Weiss. Miranda and I are more or less the same age. Our suburban childhoods that turned into insatiable desires for adventure connect us beyond the words on the page. Reading about her homesteading adventures in Homer gives me a deep, nearly personal, sense of what life in Alaska feels, smells, tastes, sounds like.

Miranda was 23 when she moved to Alaska with her college boyfriend. She reflects beautifully on her culture shock over the land and people. She opens Tide, Feather, Snow: “Moving to coastal Alaska meant moving to the water life, although I hadn’t known it until I arrived. Nothing is separate from the sea — not the sky, not the land, not a single day, nor my mood. I wasn’t used to this. I wasn’t ready for it.” She continues in the opening passage of chapter two: “Sitting at the edge of the continent, I was completely, terribly, and excitingly alone. I would be retracing the voyage of countless others who had traveled to Alaska before me: gold rushers, early pioneers, thrill-seekers, miners, surveyors, fur hunters, fishermen, law makers, sightseers, and naturalists.” Not only is it more entertaining to read these texts for hours and hours, but they also create a soulful atmosphere of anticipation that guidebooks simply cannot.

Two additional resources I highly recommend are AFAR magazine and their online wanderlists, and Nowhere literary travel magazine. Both approach travel as a narrative, an experience, and something to bring you closer to the authenticity of it all.

May your many adventures be soulful.

Love,
me


Give Lane Letters some love. It's a gorgeous site. Christy's mission statement: Lane Letters is a space for those who live overseas or are redefining 'home,' have insatiable wanderlust, or simply want to learn how to thrive where they are, give back, and make a difference. 

Live + Learn: I Desire Mapped Half the Year Away

{ this post is part of the desire map series // you're invited }

July is nearly over. You guys. July. Is. Nearly. Over. Where did 2014 go? Oh right, I've been out of town until basically now. I'm also convinced the earth is spinning faster, but that's another theory for another day. When I first dove into The Desire Map in January, I intended to post monthly about the process of establishing Core Desired Feelings, trying to live them, how they shift over time. Guess what though...it's like bottling lightning. I've learned that this process cannot be contained or properly explained. It's pure magic. It's sacred. It's fluid and subtle and profound. When it truly becomes a foundational paradigm in your life, it's like trying to explain what salt tastes like.

That having been said, the irony is that I've been using the distinctly quantifiable Desire Map 2014 Day Planner every single day since 01 January. The dichotomy between inexplicable, etherial magic and mapping out every day of your life is a tension I've learned to hold. Robert Fritz refers to this as the work of structural tension. The point is that the daily planning...isn't actually the point. The intention - and the tension between current reality and your desired outcome - is the point. You're raising your frequency because you're intentionally partnering with The Universe to create something that is simultaneously your design and beyond anything you could've imagined. Yes, I just capitalized The Universe. It's a thing. Trust me. I also have a citrine crystal near my laptop as a write this. Also a thing. Google it.

In March I spent a week in the Hopi lands. At a sunrise healing ceremony with an elder shaman I learned about the tradition of offering a prayer of white corn meal to the four directions as the sun peeks up over the mesa. 

In February I morphed my CDFs from a list into a mantra, but even that short statement has shifted over time. "Your desire is a prayer. Be open to magic, abundance, creativity, freedom, health, and spiritual alignment." Since then I've more fully owned the experience with a shift in accountability: "MY desires are prayers." The mantra is also no longer instructive, but empowered: "I AM open to magic, abundance, creativity, freedom, health..." Even aligning myself spiritually isn't sufficient. I want a direct "source flow" - through me, through me, through me, literal energy flowing through me in cycles from a source I've come to believe in completely. As of July:

My desires are prayers. I am open to magic, abundance, creativity, freedom, health, and source flow.

In another example of how raising my frequency shifted my perception of what's possible: "Creativity" may soon become "creation." It was originally referencing artistic creativity and the many passion projects I engage in. It's since become about creation in the purest sense of the word. I may create a painting. I may create a blog post. But increasingly so, I may also create a career as a travel writer. That will be a creative way to support myself and spend my days, but the power comes in the fact that if I make it, that will be A Creation in itself. I'm feeling more and more ready to own the fact that a focus on artistic creativity alone was selling myself short. It's time to manifest some serious shit. Alright, The Remainder Of 2014. You and me. Let's do this.

Love and pure desires,
me

A Love Letter to Alaska

John Muir wrote of Alaska: "Going to the mountains is going home."

Every time I travel I fall in love. Movement seduces me. My wanderlust is palpable, an insatiable ache. This is true for every vagabond soul I’ve met. I’ve been wandering long enough to not confuse this love with a naive crush on travel. My love is seasoned and unconditional. I love the bad days, the tired days, the beautiful days, the productive days, the rainy days.

Yet my soul spends too much time inside concrete jungles, offices, four straight walls. I’ve been craving a wild travel experience. I want endless space and crisp air. I fantasize about virgin land unexplored by man. I need pure silence. There was no option but The Last Frontier. Naturalist John Muir said Alaska is “hopelessly beyond description.” Author Miranda Weiss writes that “people move to Alaska to find themselves, but also to get lost. [They’re] in search of some indefinable hybrid of adventure, wilderness, and what I imagined would be a simpler life. I think we all wanted to know what we would look like in front of a backdrop of wilderness, who we would become once the fancy clothes and high ambitions were stripped away.”

Miranda moved permanently to Alaska as a young, recent college graduate. I traveled briefly to Alaska as a stressed out thirty-something professional. We arrived as different people with the same goal. We wanted Alaska to strip us down without apologies. We understood that the less control we took over her refiner’s fire, the more it would change us. She forces you to realize how small you are. She forces you to admit Nature is entirely self-serving, virtually indifferent to your existence. She forces you to question how you show up in your real life, how you define yourself inside your four straight walls. Miranda writes that “doctoral degrees mean nothing when your car slips off the road, when it’s moose season, or when the northern lights strike us all dumb with awe.”

We’re still sailing away and I’m already thinking about next time. I’m thinking about boarding a train to Denali. I’m thinking about floating in the turquoise Glacier Bay. I’m thinking about a motorcycle ride from Skagway to Carcross, stopping to wade my bare feet into every lake. I’m thinking about the layers I have left to strip away. As Muir said, “I had nothing to do but look and listen and join the trees in their hymns and prayers.” I’m going home changed. Everyone who lets themselves breathe in the energy of Alaska goes home changed. That’s her gift to anyone who understands how to receive it.

Your Land, by Mike Burwell 

This is the place that is given to you
because you have found it yourself
because you stayed long enough
to move your gaze fully to the south
because you returned at times
to accept the ritual: to care
and be cared for by rock
and bush, creek, and bird.
This is the place where your faze
took hold, found words and moods
for words, where others will come
for your small sound when you are gone,
to listen for the door you left
swinging, just out of reach
on immense hinges.

It’s your turn. Just go.

Love,
gail


I hope you enjoyed your virtual vacation. You can re-live each day of the adventure through my Live Voyage Report landing page. If you're interested in following other Live Voyage Reports, visit The Avid Cruiser website to see where the team is exploring now! Join me on my next journey via Instagram and Twitter @fourthirtyam.

This article was originally published on the Avid Cruiser Live Voyage Report website. 

Cruising Alaska, day eleven: Victoria, British Columbia on Star Princess

Victoria is known as “The City of Gardens.” It sits at the southern tip of Vancouver Island and it’s the western most point in Canada. Established as a trading post in 1843 in honor of England’s Queen Victoria, it’s the oldest city in western Canada. Locals are fond of saying they are “more British than the Brits.” Indeed the city does have a very British aesthetic. Victoria’s metro population is 80,000, with 350,000 residents in the surrounding area. Thirteen different municipalities have 13 separate mayors. As our tour guide bus driver said, “We believe everyone should have their own identity and so those provinces are unique with unique leadership.” Oh, Canada. I love you.

The Star Princess was only docked for a short time and so we rushed off for a quick half day ashore. Had we been here longer, we would have explored more highlights; such as Butchart Gardens, high tea at The Empress Hotel, Craigdarroch Castle, Beacon Hill Park, and I’m still interested to see inside the stately Legislative Buildings. As it was, we only had time for a bus tour and quick walkabout.

Victoria's vibrant waterfront, with the Legislative Buildings in the background on the left.

We booked our Victoria shore excursion through Princess, as we did the other excursions. However, unlike the excursions we’ve enjoyed in every other port, we cannot recommend this booking. We thought we booked the bright red, double decker, open-air, hop-on-hop-off narrated bus tours you’ve likely seen in cities all over the world. Those buses were actually on the pier when we arrived, but we were loaded into a closed-top double decker bus. We were later told by our tour guide, our ride is known as “Big Bertha” and has been in operation since the 1970s. One of the primary reasons we booked what we thought was an open-air bus was so we could take advantage of unique photography opportunities. We could not do that very well on this bus. An issue over which any tour company would have no control is the fact that Victoria was hosting a giant bicycle race of some sort today. Half the downtown area was closed to road traffic and a series of detours made the normal tour route difficult, or most times impossible, to navigate. The driver did what he could to take us to points of interest and simply talk to us about the rest of what we wouldn’t be seeing, but it was not time or money well spent.

We dedicated some of our walkabout time to researching the best way to take the tour we’d wanted. Victoria is beautiful and it’s big. It’s worth seeing the city on a bus tour like this. Here’s how you can do it successfully:

Summary: Skip the Princess booking. Find these buses and ride them about town.

The Star Princess docks in Ogden Port. A $10 shuttle takes passengers to and from The Empress Hotel and Ogden Port. You can take the shuttle back and forth as many times as you want, but that seems silly for such a short time in port. If you chose to walk, it’s 45 brisk minutes along the waterfront. When you disembark the shuttle in downtown Victoria, you’re right in front of The Empress Hotel and right next to a kiosk for the Gray Line tour company. That is what you want. It costs $32 (significantly cheaper than the Princess-booked excursion) for a 24-hour hop-on-hop-off pass. If you want to add entrance to Butchart Gardens, it’s $80. If you ride the bus on a full roundtrip loop, it takes 90-minutes. Within the 24 hours that your ticket is valid, you can get off and explore any of the 14 stops and get right back on to keep riding or to head to the next stop.

Live and learn. Now we know what this particular shore excursion is and is not. Hopefully our research is helpful to you if an adventure like this interests you.

Washington's San Juan Islands as seen from the shore of Vancouver Island.

Clan houses and totem poles in downtown Victoria, because we are still in the Northwest, after all. 

Tomorrow is a full day at sea on Star Princess as we make our way back to San Francisco. I plan to spend time reflecting on our itinerary as a whole and post a final wrap-up article. I can already sense that it’s likely to be a love letter to Alaska.

I hope you’re enjoying your virtual vacation. You can follow along on each day of the adventure through my Live Voyage Report landing page. If you're interested in following other Live Voyage Reports, visit The Avid Cruiser website to see where the team is exploring now!

Bon voyage…and love,
me


This article was originally published on the Avid Cruiser Live Voyage Report website. 

Cruising Alaska, day ten: Sailing Toward Canada on Star Princess

The Star Princess spent all day at sea, sailing south toward Victoria, British Columbia. We only have two more days onboard before we disembark in San Francisco. At this point in our itinerary the inevitable return to reality is starting to settle in. We’re looking back at our time on the Star Princess, reflective and relaxed. We’re realizing just how memorable our vacation has been…and…just how much food we’ve actually consumed. Yes. That. You knew it was coming. It’s part of the proverbial cruise experience and I can’t leave these Live Voyage Reports behind without an article dedicated entirely to food.

I wrote previously about how to stay active and fit onboard. It may seem as though this article is the counter argument, but not necessarily. You can indulge as much as you’d like on cruise ships, the legends are true. However, you can also find reasonable portions and healthy options. I bounced between indulgence and sanity throughout our trip, so I can discuss both with a degree of authority.

First, the important decision of Traditional or Anytime Dining. Princess strikes the perfect balance between autonomous Anytime Dining and the tradition of nightly dinner reservations (see also: smart casual suit coats, the same wait staff and table, many times the same dinner companions, etc.). Heather and I opted for Anytime Dining without hesitation. The Traditional Dining crowd tends to be older, but that wasn’t actually a factor in our decision. We selected Anytime for the likely reason anyone selects it: Freedom to eat what we want, when we want it, where we want it, or to opt out.

By far the most casual dining option is room service, which is entirely complimentary on the Star Princess. It’s tough to beat breakfast in bed or dinner in your slippers on the balcony. If you want breakfast delivered in the morning, simply fill out the card left next to the chocolate on your pillow after turndown service. You may also request fresh fruit that is delivered daily around 3:00pm. Hang these forms on your doorknob and sleep well. After one particularly long day of excursions for both of us and a long night of writing ahead of me, we decided to order a room service dinner. We were both pleasantly surprised by the food. The menu in the room is different than any we’d seen around the ship. Our best guess is that room service shares a kitchen with Shooter’s, the sport’s bar (think sandwiches, salads, and fries). If you’re in a comfortable, room service sort of mood, it hits the spot.

Cool ocean breezes and this view? I've spent many hours writing and eating on our balcony.

The most casual public dining options are located on the Star Princess Lido Deck. You have three choices near the outdoor Neptune’s Reef & Pool (four if you decide to drink your calories at the Mermaid’s Tail bar). Trident Grill serves quick burgers, hot dogs, and fries. It’s just what you’d expect from poolside food. A welcome realization for Heather and I, since neither of us eat red meat, was that Trident Grill also serves veggie burgers and chicken breast sandwiches. Next to the grill is Prego Pizza. You can request an entire pie delivered to your room for $3.00, or you can snag a quick slice poolside. Prego always serves pepperoni and margherita, then adds a special that changes daily. I noticed the specials are sometimes themed to our itinerary, such as the Glacier Pie yesterday (essentially a classic white with six different cheeses). The third poolside option isn’t a meal but rather an ice cream shop. I don’t want to talk about how many soft serve twist cones I’ve had over the last 10 days, so let’s just move along.

Trident Grill, The Mermaid's Tail, Prego Pizza. Quick and easy.

Drink up, sailor.

Horizons Court is also on the Lido Deck. Horizons is where the cruise ship buffet magic happens. Horizons is open from 5:00am to midnight. The amount of food prepared and served in Horizons, and the variety of food, is staggering. The Star Princess carries 2,600 passengers at full capacity and the buffet is, in fact, all you can eat. Beginning at 5:00am they cycle through 19 hours of continental breakfast, full breakfast, lunch, light snack, dinner, and another light snack. If you lose track of time on a cruise ship it means you’re relaxing properly and doing it right. Even if you hit peak performance relaxation and barely know what day it is, never fear, just make your way to Horizons and they will feed you. They’ll also do it with a smile. A handful of Princess staff know Heather and I by name at this point, particularly the breakfast staff. Finally, we were pleased with the amount of vegetarian options available, including non-meat proteins other than cheese, at all times of the day.

Nico, in charge of baked goods at the buffet, greeted me with a smile and "Hello madame, madame! I love your hair! Good morning!" Every. Single. Time. 

The next step up on the dining scale of formality is the International Cafe located in The Piazza, Deck 5. While it’s still grab-and-go, unlike the options previously mentioned, I wouldn’t recommend wandering into The Piazza in your swimsuit and wet flip flops. The International Cafe is open 24 hours a day. In my late nights spent in the nearby internet cafe, I observed a hip, young, beautiful crowd from 11:00pm onward. The International Cafe is also home base for specialty coffees. You can purchase these a’la carte per cup, but Princess wait staff also spent the first three days of the cruise up-selling passengers on a punch card that discounts your caffeine. Heather and I had lunch here and it’s exactly what you’d expect from a European delicatessen: cold pre-made sandwiches, paninis pressed to order, salads, croissants, sweet pastries, and tarts. I noticed yogurt parfaits, danishes, and oatmeal when I passed by early this morning. The unique bonus of the International Cafe is the setting. The Piazza is beautiful, always bustling with activity, and live string quartet music seems nearly constant. This is hands down a favorite for both of us. It feels familiar and very much like the dining experiences we favor at home and abroad.

Don't let its nearly-hidden, tiny corner of the giant Piazza fool you...The International Cafe is a must-eat destination.

Grab your panini from the International Cafe and enjoy the bustle of The Piazza.

Our less-casual restaurant experiences centered mostly around Anytime Dining dinners and a couple non-buffet breakfasts. Portofino and Capri are the primary dining rooms on Deck 7 and 6, respectively. Dinner at Capri is served 5:30-9:00pm, and Anytime diners can chose to eat at Portofino for breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner after 7:30pm. They begin seating Traditional Diners in Portofino at 5:30pm. The menu changes nightly, but there is an “Always Available” section with dishes like salmon, pasta, and caesar salad. They always have vegetarian options clearly marked on the menu and the selections are excellent.

One thing to understand about these restaurants is the communal table concept. It’s likely, unless you want to wait it out, that you’ll be sat at a table for four, six, or eight guests. Conversations tend to center on previous cruises, previous trips to our current location, bucket list travel goals, and for some reason, the most random facts possible about your hometown. Sometimes people are delightful and it’s a pleasant evening, and sometimes not so much. It’s all part of the cruise experience. Just go with it.

The Capri and Portofino dining rooms are virtually identical and offer entertaining communal dining tables. 

The Crown Grill and Sabatini’s are small, upscale venues that require a $25 per-person cover and reservation. Heather and I went to Sabatini’s on the fjord / spa day. It was well worth the cover and the southern Italian menu was spot on. We discussed that if we replicated that dinner in Salt Lake City, we’d likely have spent $80 each, making Sabatini’s a great value. It’s easy to slip into the groove of a cruise ship and expect everything to be free, so the $25 can seem off-putting to some. We enjoyed six courses (including a whole Branzino in Crosta di Sale, that our waiter skillfully deconstructed table side to the sound of our applause). In true Italian style, we were left alone to meander through the meal at our own pace. Heather and I met on a group tour in Italy just over a decade ago and we were all sorts of nostalgic as each course rolled out.

Sabatini's was the dining highlight of our trip, hands down. 

Final word: There are lounges and bars all over the Star Princess. Seriously, you trip over them everywhere you go. Slow down and spend a moment. They each have their own vibe and it’s fascinating to see how Princess creates a series of little worlds on a single ship. One of my favorites is the Vista Lounge, a swanky 1940s Rat Pack joint with crooner tunes playing all day long. I’ve done a lot of my Avid Cruiser work in that lounge, and often times I was the only person in there. Until a ballroom dance class showed up. So it goes on a big cruise ship.

Every lounge has a different vibe. This is the Vista Lounge (very 1940s), my favorite.

Tomorrow we spend the day in Victoria, BC. We’re booked on a double decker bus tour of the city. It’s a bit touristy for our tastes, but then again, I secretly take these bus tours in nearly every city I visit across the world. My photographic memory loves to survey the situation and then set off to explore neighborhoods that seem interesting. Stay tuned and we’ll tell you what we find!

I hope you’re enjoying your virtual vacation. You can follow along on each day of the adventure through my Live Voyage Report landing page. If you're interested in following other Live Voyage Reports, visit The Avid Cruiser website to see where the team is exploring now!

Bon voyage…and love,
me


This article was originally published on the Avid Cruiser Live Voyage Report website.