“Costa Ricans know what they have,” declared my seat mate on our Nature Air flight.
Corcovado National Park trailed behind us as the small 15 seat plane dipped suddenly and levelled off. Golfo Dulce lay beneath us, a crystalline body of water that could hypnotize any creature who dared stare in its depths.
The tiny plane was trying to maneuver a tight airstrip and avoid the trees that cut close if a calculation was slightly off.
I prayed a little; the first time I had ever done such a thing on a flight. During the 50 minute plane journey, my seat mate introduced himself as John Lewis, one of the eco-resort founders of the Osa Peninsula, some 25 years ago.
This was a new discovery. I had no idea that fleas could live between sheets of plastic. Don’t they thrive on animal hosts, chew on the flesh of humans, but this?
Oh, how life throws in surprises.
Before we address fleas, let’s return to the beginning.
I’m a single female traveler. I had two beautiful cats, one passed away, the other one I tearfully let go to live on an urban farm in exchange for this rich, exciting thing called travel. I’ve also cared for numerous dogs in my time.
I rented apartments for years (also co-owned a condo with my sister and brother, though they lived here, I didn’t). I can clean, moderately cook and maintain a household. This is beginning to sound like my dating profile, but anyway…
Now that I live this unusual, but sexy existence (have to keep up that illusion) I am always hunting for ways to travel creatively.
Everybody needs to start somewhere. I was no different than you. You are no different than me.
Over a year ago Juno Kim of Runaway Juno asked me a question. Would you like to be a speaker at the first Asian Women’s Empowerment conference?
Gulp. My teachers had mercy on me during school presentations and ended them early after I sputtered and stuttered my way into another teasing session at recess.
But I accepted Juno, because I realized that my insecurities didn’t matter, what counted was being part of a movement to help others like me.
Who is that me? An Asian woman. Through will, a miracle and faith I broke through the pressures that were put upon me and forged a life, though not perfect, is the one I want.
And so I was ecstatic to give back to other Asian women in transition.
A trip to Europe can be punctuated by a few things — deeply rooted culture, rich and tasty food, and architecture only found in a builder’s dreams.
The other consistent aspect that stands out to me are the trains. They are enduring as they are romantic. Sometimes a tad frustrating (Bulgaria), yet often times a smooth (France’s SNCF) experience.
The Glacier Express in Switzerland is marketed as a luxury train line through the Swiss Alps that connects the two mountain resorts of Zermatt and St. Moritz The cars are wide, with broad windows on the roofs and along the sides to give the train rider a sensory experience. This stretch of train track was ceremoniously crowned a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2008.
Since the Rhaetian Railway sells the Glacier Express trip and several other tailored train journeys, the two rail sections you want to pay attention to is the Bernina Railway and the Albula Railway. Both these tracks are composed of some of the most stunning scenes of the Swiss Alps and make up the majority of the UNESCO designation. These tracks combined traverse through tunnels, viaducts, bridges and galleries, doing so in unity with the surrounding landscape. Unbelievable.
Things are heating up at Creative Revolution Retreats!
Yeehaw, we’ve shot a welcome video to let people know what we are about and why our retreat is more than just a week’s vacation. Watch it till the end for the outtakes, my favorite part of the video actually!
“Welcome, do you want a black wristband?”
I stumbled on that question, because isn’t this a blogging conference?? Not a music festival fuelled by alcohol and screaming music indie fans?
Yes and no. In front of me was a large field in Elstree, UK littered with teepees, tents and barefooted bloggers tugging at the grass with their toes.
Directly behind me were rows of erected tents, fresh from the box, ready to be invaded by threadbare sleeping bags and world weary backpacks.
Where the hell was I?
Silly woman, the world’s first blogging festival.