I am Lost and Found

Tag: luxury hotel

The Simple Life Reigns at the Thyme Hotel

The villages of the Cotswolds have long been associated with fairytales and storybooks due to their limestone cottages, centuries-old churches, and well-tended gardens. The region of the Cotswolds evoke tales of simpler times, with sheep farmers, weavers, and oxen-led plows, lively pub dinners, and welcoming inns.

But does the concept of the simple life still exist today? Or, is that just another fairytale? My stay at the Cotswold’s Thyme Hotel proves it does.

Her fur-trimmed coat looks as soft and fluffy as the fleece of a newborn lamb. A string of pearls drapes elegantly around her neck, and a sparkling tiara crowns her tight silver curls. With her eyes gently closed, she seems entirely content in her surroundings.

The feeling is mutual. This is a place that deserves a moment of quiet reflection. I’m still gazing at the portrait above the fireplace when my cappuccino appears, snapping me out of my reverie. I’ve only just arrived at the Thyme Hotel and I’m already smitten. I tamp down my excitement—I have five days ahead of me in the Cotswolds.

Taking my cue from Her Majesty The Queen, I sink back into the sofa. What’s the rush?

Making a Case for the Simple Life

If the Cotswolds conjure images of little lambs prancing beside their mamas, wisteria-clad cottages, and swans gliding along flowing rivers, you’d be spot on. It’s not a stretch to say that my first impressions of the Cotswolds had me wondering if I’d just strolled into a classic nursery rhyme.

Roughly two hours from London, the Cotswolds are a landscape of rolling hills, meandering streams, and honey-colored villages that covers more than 800 square miles and spans six English counties. Our group has gathered here to celebrate a friend’s milestone birthday. And while we have different backgrounds, from creatives to conservationists to lawyers and even a former dolphin trainer, there is something in the Cotswolds to please us all.

Five days ambling around the Cotswolds is hardly enough time to become an expert. It is, however, enough time to settle into the rhythm of the Thyme Hotel, our group’s blissful home base.

If there was ever a place to experience the pure, unadulterated joys of simpler times, this is it.

From Humble Beginnings

Owners Caryn and Jerry Hibbert moved into Southrop Manor in 2002 and, along with Caryn’s father, began a slow and considered restoration of the property that would become the Thyme Hotel. By 2007, it opened as a cookery school, and in the years ahead, more conservation would follow, including the 19th-century Ox Barn, the Baa Bar, the Meadow Spa, and 31 accommodations.

Southrop’s historical significance is noted on Thyme’s website, ‘The estate dates from Roman times but is first clearly defined in the Domesday Book of 1086. The Manor House remains a private home and sits on the eastern side of its ancient Norman church. To the west of the church lie the manorial barns, houses and cottages which are at the heart of this medieval estate.’

The Hibberts wanted to create a place that not only had minimal impact on the planet but also nurtured the environment, supported the local community, and inspired others to live more thoughtfully. With ground source heat pumps and wood chip boilers, spring-fed water, an extensive kitchen garden, and a nose-to-tail approach to cooking, it’s clear they’ve succeeded.

A Village Within a Village

In 1801, the parish of Southrop had a recorded population of 238. By 2024, the population had grown—to 272. What makes Southrop so captivating is not its size, or lack thereof, but how little it has changed over the past two centuries. Under the Hibberts’ guidance, that sense of continuity and community extends to the Thyme Hotel.

A village within a village, the hotel (originally Southrop Manor) provides all the necessities for a self-contained life; cloudlike mattresses in cozy rooms, multiple places to dine and imbibe, a pool and spa, numerous walking paths, gardens, and (this is England, mind you) a local pub.

There are guided activities on the property, like cocktail masterclasses, slow-flow yoga sessions, and garden walks. The ‘May Happenings’ board lists, How to Age, at 10am on Friday. Thank you, Thyme, but I have that one covered.

As the days go by, I fantasize about living at Thyme, watercoloring in the rapeseed and wheat-filled meadows, picking dill from the kitchen garden, learning how to pickle onions, and counting sheep. There’s something about the earthy wild grasses, the soft whistle of a European Starling, and the morning dew on my skin that makes this old-world existence so compelling.

But all of this would require leaving my room, which is harder to manage than it sounds.

Thyme Living—Inspired by Nature

Thyme’s impeccably designed rooms are spread in, among, and around the 17th-century Farmhouse and Georgian Rectory. Descriptive room categories defy typical hotel conventions, with names like Cosy, Teeny Cosy, Divine, Elegant, and Exquisite.

Each botanically-inspired room, suite, and cottage feels like a precious jewel, especially the Teeny Cosy ones. And thanks to the inherent character of the original stone buildings, no two are alike.

The birthday girl is in Phlox, which is papered in a mass of purple and mauve flowers and is even stitched into an oversized fabric headboard and lampshade. The effect is that of being completely enveloped in blooms.

Another friend is in Fennel, a multi-level suite which is a study in earth tones, and features a deep, standalone tub, and separate sitting room tucked into the eaves of the rectory.

We unanimously covet Thyme’s fabrics and patterns, many of which are available in the boutique. Is life even worth living without owning a radish-covered tablecloth?

The Ox Barn Delights

The Ox Barn once housed the plowman’s oxen, but now serves as Thyme’s social hub and primary dining space. An adjacent lounge area has comfy sofas, chairs, ottomans. It’s a destination designed for lingering, reading, and dreaming—all activities that come effortlessly during my stay.

Original timber beams and arches frame the high, vaulted ceiling. Floral arrangements adorn hand-picked pieces of furniture. I feel as settled here as I would at my BFF’s country manor, if I had a BFF with a country manor, that is.

We enjoy one memorable meal after another, with locally-sourced delights like Aberdeen Angus with baby turnips and Grilled Polenta with ricotta with braised courgettes. But it’s breakfast that steals the show. Perfectly roasted asparagus spears and toasted soldiers served alongside a soft-boiled egg with a yolk as bright as a blooming marigold. A side of warm homemade sourdough is impossible to refuse.

The Baa Bar’s Sheep Seats

The Baa Bar becomes our favorite gathering spot—and not only for its botanical-infused cocktails, like the Rhubarb Royal and the Thyme Martini. An intimate space with velvet sofas, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out towards manicured topiaries, the Baa Bar’s best feature is, you guessed it, the sheep.

Created by Caryn Hibbert and paying tribute to Southrop’s farming heritage, these playful, oversized sheep seats (the stuffed synthetic variety) turn our group of relatively mature adults into raucous kids. Stuffed Cotswold Lions and Black Welsh Mountain sheep may sound kitschy, yet, they are anything but.

For those who are smitten, these ewe and ram settees are available for purchase. But be warned, if you have to ask the price, you probably can’t afford them.

Public Footpaths are for the People

Public footpaths are a uniquely British enterprise. Where else in the world can the public legally cross private lands and farms without suffering consequences? The UK has over 140,000 miles of footpaths and bridleways where anyone and everyone is allowed to walk.

One morning, a friend and I venture beyond the village, through a narrow, unmarked wall between two houses. We hop over a set of metal stiles and along the low fences of a vast estate before finding ourselves on one of these long-established footpaths.

We meander along gurgling duck-filled brooks, through open fields edged with ancient stone walls, and past languid cows grazing in fields. My Merlin app is listening. Her What’s that Plant? app is identifying—a pair of amateur naturalists let loose in the English countryside. God help us.

We arrive back at Thyme just before lunch. Later, en route to the pool, I pass the property’s towering centerpiece, a majestic Cedar of Lebanon. This centuries-old tree measures more than 20 feet in diameter, with a dense canopy providing shelter for an infinite number of birds.

It’s my favorite spot on the grounds, even topping the spa. And when I learn the Cedar of Lebanon is a symbol of peace and eternity, it further boosts my affection—a tree destined to turn even the most ardent city dweller into a tree-hugger.

Village Days: Cotswolds Highlights

It’s tempting to while away the days in and around the hotel, savoring farm-fresh eggs, listening for chirps and tweets, and relaxing on expensive stuffed sheep. But the Cotswolds are calling. With more villages than we have time to explore, we narrow down to a select few, including Daylesford, Bibury, Burford, and Stow-on-the-Wold.

In Daylesford, we beeline to its famous organic market and covet plants, flowers, and produce that Border Control won’t allow us to bring home. We gush over sticky honeycomb, sourdough starter, apricot marmalade, and heaps of artfully arranged asparagus. To offset our disappointment, we purchase more cheese, pâté, and baguettes than any group could reasonably consume for a late-afternoon picnic at the hotel.

The next day, the winding lanes of Stow-on-the-Wold enchant us with its lively market square, pubs, tearooms, and boutiques. But the main attraction is St. Edward’s Church. Built between the 11th and 15th centuries, the church’s hobbit-like north entry is framed by a pair of ancient yews that appear to be consuming the doorway. Stow’s Instagrammable hot spot, indeed.

In picturesque Bibury, we circle the village and walk beside the swan-filled River Coln, making sure to stroll past picture-perfect Arlington Row. A 14th-century row of cottages, Arlington Row, was originally a monastic wool store that eventually became a place for weavers. Today, it is one of the most photographed spots in the country.

Burford is also visually stunning—showing off its golden limestone cottages and gardens with pride. Its countryside location on the River Windrush offers more public footpaths and lanes to explore. Particularly known for antiques and boutiques, the village of Burford is another haven for shoppers—should you have any pounds to spare after getting a tablecloth at Thyme.

Slowing Down

After five glorious days in the Cotswolds, our time is up. The birthday group will soon disperse, some heading to London for the Chelsea Flower Show, others heading home to needy kids, needy pups, and needy bosses.

The Thyme Hotel reminds me not only that there is a slower way to travel (the trend of the moment) but a slower way to live. The Cotswolds encourage me to take the small joys of village living home, like the canopy of a magnificent tree, a meadow walk, or a perfect egg.

I wonder if I can.

As I wait for my taxi, I savor one last coffee in the Ox Barn, taking in the sounds of clinking glasses and the subtle scent of bacon. Already, I miss breakfast. I gaze up at the serene portrait that greeted me on arrival.

Taking my cue from Her Majesty, once again, I settle back into the sofa and close my eyes.

What’s the rush?

June 19, 2026
What Egypt Teaches the Impatient Traveler

Some destinations are worth the wait

When I was in 6th grade, I studied ancient Egypt, lucky to have a teacher who believed Egyptology wasn’t too grand a concept for such young minds. I became mesmerized by hieroglyphics—enchanted by a language made up of pictures rather than letters. Tales of jackal-headed gods, buried treasures, and linen-wrapped mummies crept into my dreams each night. I learned that the pyramids were built between 2589 and 2504 BC—a concept as unfathomable as infinity. Or black holes. Or trying to imagine my parents as kids.

So when my dad and stepmother planned a trip to Egypt that very year, I begged them to take me along. Despite my tears, I was left behind, simmering in the kind of jealousy only a pre-teen girl can summon.

Even then, I was impatient—a character trait that’s followed me from childhood into my mid-50s like a Labrador puppy.

I touched down in dusty Cairo over four decades later—a micro-blip in time by Egyptian standards, but a lifetime for my impetuous self. Would Egypt live up to my imagination? Were my twelve-year-old expectations of King Tut, Ramses V, and the pyramids best left in the past?

My takeaways from the Land of the Pharaohs were not what I anticipated. What I discovered in Egypt went beyond knowing the differences between Isis and Osiris, or that pyramids have four sides, not three. In Egypt, of all places, I learned how to slow down.

The next day, when our flight from Cairo to Luxor is delayed enough to upend our limited time sightseeing, I’m outvoted three to one in favor of bypassing Luxor Temple and heading directly to our hotel’s pool. I tamp down my disappointment with a scowl my kids can feel as much as see. My first battle with self-restraint. Egypt may have been an ancient monarchy, but our family is democratic through and through.

While it pains me to admit it, heading to Al Moudira is a wise decision. After nearly 36 hours of travel, it’s a respite I didn’t know I needed. The hotel grounds are a honeycomb of courtyards surrounded by endless hectares of palm groves and exotic gardens, all with the feel of a grand country house hidden on the Nile’s West Bank. The camouflaged entrance, off a dirt road with overgrown flora, immediately eases any anxiety I have about missing our first sight.

I don’t expect anything in Egypt to be this tranquil. Al Moudira’s inner courtyards have gurgling fluted marble fountains. Fig and olive trees hover delicately over uneven terracotta tiled floors. Dusty green palm fronds contrast the flat and cloudless blue sky. Arched walkways lined with jewel-toned walls complete the sanctuary-like aura. I grab my journal, find a seat under a stained glass window, and start collecting my thoughts.

If our flight had been on time, we would have spent upwards of three to four hours racing around Luxor, ticking temples off our list, and ending up at the hotel with just enough time to shower before dinner. The delay allowed us to appreciate the inspiring setting, feed the resident camels, and watch the sun set like a ball of fire over the desert.

The following morning, we set off for our first official sight—The Valley of the Kings. Inherently mystical and mystifying, the vast desert landscape ignites in me a toddler-like giddiness. Among these 60+ subterranean tombs, King Tutankhamun and Ramses V are buried. It’s here that Queen Hatshepsut built her perfectly symmetrical, design-forward funerary temple. And it’s here that I’ll finally lay eyes on the centuries-old sacred carvings of the afterlife—the hieroglyphics that long ago sparked my career in art.

While I knew that throngs of visitors would be joining us on this underground treasure hunt, I couldn’t have imagined how many wannabe models, insta-influencers, and selfie sticks I’d encounter. At each tomb entrance, my family joined the queue of pushy tourists descending towards the sarcophagus. Yet, instead of getting annoyed, my default emotion, I opted to go with the flow. This was unchartered territory for me, but it yielded worthwhile results.

I didn’t race through the tombs; I soaked up as many symbols, colors, and characters as I could. I stayed in the moment. Even as that moment sent me thousands of years into the past. I found stillness in the permanence of the hieroglyphics—following the symbols of the stories to tune out the frenzy around me.

After Luxor, we embark on our trip’s next phase: sailing up the River Nile. Aside from providing a contrast to the city chaos, sailing naturally forces us to slow down. The places we’ll be visiting, including Esna, Edfu, and Kom Ombo, are harder to get to and promise to be less crowded.

The Meroe is a dahabiya I discovered on Instagram—one of Nour El Nil’s iconic candy-cane-sailed fleet of traditional wooden boats. Over five days of sailing, we disembark along shallow riverbanks and walk to crumbling, sun-bleached temples and necropolises. We watch elderly fishermen in their rickety boats, with white egrets guarding the bow like sentinels. We pause idle chit chat as the call to prayer echoes above us. On the River Nile, serenity is an all-sensory experience.

There are 20 passengers on our boat, a mix of friends, couples, and families with young kids in tow. By day, the upper deck is our open-air living room where we sunbathe, read, sip mint tea, and play backgammon. By night, it’s our al fresco cocktail lounge and dining room. A place to sample Egyptian delights like koshari, a mix of pasta, rice, vermicelli, and lentils topped with chick peas and crispy fried onions.

Life aboard the Meroe is wonderfully lazy. Photo ops are plentiful, whether that be a passing sailboat or a water buffalo cooling off in the shallows. When we stop at a quiet riverbank, a soccer ball materializes, and within minutes, the passengers and crew are enmeshed in a lively barefoot match. The spectators include common cuckoos, darting dragonflies, and braying donkeys.

It doesn’t take long for the other passengers to recognize my bird obsession, though packing my own binoculars is a telling sign. They endure my bird chat and bird apps. A crew member gives me a laminated brochure of Egyptian species. I’m looking for the hoopoe, a bird I’d become fascinated with back when Sunday night Bird Bingo was a recurring family activity.

Hoopoes, with a distinctive crown of feathers that they can raise or lower at will, are widely found across northern Africa. But after days of searching, I’ve yet to see one. I try to keep my childish impatience in check. I’ve seen glorious birds along the Nile so far: Eurasian moorhen, purple herons, barn swallows, storks, egrets, gulls, and grebes. How can I complain? But the hoopoe eludes me. I’m determined to find one.

On our final morning, a woman named Amira wonders if I can help identify a bird she’s just photographed. I’m secretly pleased she has the faith in me to ask. I’m even a touch smug. I glance down at her Nikon, and my smug look disappears faster than you can say BINGO.

My coveted hoopoe. A lesson in humility, indeed.

Egypt is the kind of destination whose scale deserves the level of focus I haven’t had since middle school. For perspective, the Great Pyramid is 4600 years old, predating Cleopatra by 2000 years. How is anyone meant to absorb thousands of years’ worth of history in twelve days?

As it is, my family isn’t known for sustained levels of attention. So when we arrived at the newly opened Grand Egyptian Museum (GEM), it inevitably fell to me to inform our guide that we’d like the highlights reel. The museum’s collection includes 100,000 artifacts spread over roughly five million square feet. She’s just proudly recounted the story of a Canadian guest with whom she’d spent nine hours.

I ask if we can do it in less than two. She winces.

Knowing our travel style and its limitations is another piece of knowledge gained. Were there things in Egypt left undone? Surfaces barely scratched? Yes. But I can live with that, because the price we would have paid to rush it was too costly.

On a personal note, I vow to return and spend nine hours in the museum. If a Canadian can do it, so can I.

Egypt surpasses every expectation. The pyramids defy scale. King Tut’s 5,000 treasures render us speechless. The remnants of color in the temples and tombs remind me that, while we see Egypt in washed-out, faded tones, we can close our eyes and imagine the kaleidoscopic world it once was.

Upon reflection, I don’t think my twelve-year-old self would have appreciated Egypt. She wasn’t ready. Maybe the universe, and my parents, conspired to make her wait for a reason. Ahhh, Egypt had one final lesson in store: delayed gratification.

I know now that patience means letting go of control, accepting unpredictability, and allowing experiences to unfold in their own time. I can see now how my behavior back then was petulant, even irrational.

It turns out, my parents were right. It just took me 43 years to admit it.

March 1, 2026
How To Start A Travel Blog, I Mean, Website

Starting a travel blog turned out to be a bigger challenge than I thought. From learning the language of SEO and OptinMonster to overcoming fear of failure and embracing vulnerability. My travel website, I am Lost and Foundwas a true labor of love.

If you ever wondered how I started a travel blog, I mean, website, you are in the right place.

Thank you, Brené

Thank you, Brené Brown, part-time TED-Talker, full-time mother, and all-time story collector, for introducing me to my vulnerabilities. Nice to meet you, imposter syndrome. Good morning, fear of failure. Please come out from under the rug; we have some things to discuss.

For anyone who hasn’t listened to her 2010 TED Talk, The Power of Vulnerability, please stop reading and download it immediately. I’ll wait.

The Power of Vulnerability is one of the most viewed TED Talks ever, and when you listen, you will understand why. Brené’s messages are clear and told with huge doses of dry humor and self-deprecation. She describes the link between courage and vulnerability in an immensely relatable way: “Having the courage to show up when you can’t control the outcome.”

In the podcast, Brené spoke to me directly, with her masterful storytelling style, darling Texas drawl, and utterly humble manner. She was irresistibly vulnerable. If she could put herself out there like that, I could, too.

I had been looking to reinvent myself—to be productive in a way that didn’t involve my kids, my husband, or my dogs. I wanted to create something.

Villa Laura, Cortona, Italy

Just don’t call it a blog

A few years ago, a friend suggested I start a travel blog. She reminded me of the joy I get from sharing my travel experiences—like recommending a villa under the Tuscan sun, or a family-friendly resort in St Lucia. An off-the-beaten-path restaurant in Buenos Aires, or a hidden beach bar on the Caribbean island of Anegada.

She went on to explain how my combined loves of photography, books, and wine could live on my blog. Start a travel blog? That sounded interesting.

The Vines, Mendoza, Argentina

My brain caught fire—I opened my journal and began writing.

On a roll, I brainstormed names, content ideas, and imaginative, yet useful, menu links. I dreamed of media trips and bylines in Travel + Leisure magazine.

I refused to call it a travel ‘blog’, which rhymes with ‘blob’, and is totally unappealing, unrefined, and dull. “It’s a travel website!”, I declared, (and will continue to call it that, even though we all know it’s a blob, ummm, blog).

Then, like every project I had ever started, I stalled, got intimidated, and overwhelmed. What seemed like a great idea a few days ago now feels daunting and unattainable. I was deflated and put my journal away. I did laundry.

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WordPress, Bluehost, and other learning curves

I can’t recall exactly when or why I reopened my journal. Or, what reignited the creative spark? But it was back, faintly, and I seized it. So, I googled, ‘starting ~~blogs~~ ~~websites~~ blogs’.

I overcame three gigantic hurdles: WordPress, GoDaddy, and BlueHost. I spent countless hours writing and sifting through thousands of photos on my desktop. Next, I learned a new language that included words like search engine optimization, backlinks, plug-ins, and Yoast.

When my WordPress theme glitched, I cried to tech support. I labored over the content, revising and editing, all the while wondering if my parents would be my only readers.

March 16, 2015, I am Lost and Found went ‘live.’ I had officially put myself out there.

Yikes.

Born to Create

I have always created things. Clues of the traveler I would become appeared in the form of handmade passports, baggage tags, and boarding-pass-filled scrapbooks. My infatuation with all things British developed early on. In high school, I made more scrapbooks—devoted to boyfriends which I would obsess over like, well, a teenage girl.

Destined to travel, circa 1980

In my early 20s, I started earning a living from my creativity. Cue my parents’ collective sigh of relief. Initially, I worked as a graphic designer for a strong-minded, bad-ass boss in her all-female firm. She was the first in a long line of smart and powerful women who would shape me and my 20-year career in New York City.

Eventually, I went from creating corporate identities, direct mail packaging, print advertising, and TV commercials to overseeing creative teams. I was always in awe of creative talent, and to this day still get giddy over a well-designed logo or matchbook.

Creative Parenting

In my mid-30s, I became a parent and channeled my creativity in other ways. I baked elaborate cakes for my kids’ birthdays, scouring Pinterest for ideas (aka copying) and matching the icing to my favorite Pantone® color.

At 15 and 17, my kids are probably aging out of my homemade cakes. Yet, I’ll keep baking until they demand I put down my spatula or get married—whichever comes first.

In my late 40s, I discovered coloring—jumping into the adult coloring book craze with wild abandon. (Not to be confused with any other adult craze, mind you). Coloring allows my brain to be in use and checked out at the same time.

My kaleidoscopic spectrum of fine-tipped markers fills the gaps between fine black lines and satisfies my need to organize. It’s something I can control on days when I feel completely untethered. In short, it keeps me sane.

If, at first, you don’t succeed

I can’t count how many ideas I have had over the years that have fizzled out. Some dissipated within a week, while others died a slow death. My initial excitement was inevitably replaced by fear and inertia.

For example, I used to craft personalized shadow boxes from vintage printer’s type drawers, as gifts to nieces, nephews, or friends. The theme varied depending on the child’s interests, from a love of baseball or ballet to an obsession with dogs or dinosaurs.

I would painstakingly cut little squares of handmade and vintage papers to fit each little cubby. I miss seeing it come together like a puzzle, with colors and patterns forming something much larger. It was back-breaking work, sitting for hours on the floor with my Exact-O knife and straightedge.

I don’t know why I stopped. One day, I put my tools and pretty papers away. I was done. Yet another hobby that no longer piqued my interest.

Semi-Empty Nest Syndrome

Years ago, when we moved from Tokyo to DC, my kids were still young enough to need me. Cooking well-balanced dinners and making sure we had enough fruit in the house to counteract the size of our junk food drawer was a priority. Laundry was constant, as the kids were messy, and participated in sports that stained clothes in ways I never could eliminate.

Washington DC

There wasn’t much time for creativity. I was too busy with the day-to-day: soccer car pools, school parents’ nights, and dentist appointments. I was happy. Ish. As happy as any once productive-outside-the-home woman could be. I was content. Until I wasn’t.

As I neared 50, my kids’ needs didn’t take up as much daily bandwidth. Sure, I needed to go food shopping, get dinner on the table, and do laundry. But I had more time. The school day tacked on sports and games, and they often didn’t arrive home until well past 6pm. Suddenly, my days felt long.

The semi-empty nest syndrome I was feeling was not new; it was just new to me. I gave serious thought to what would fulfill me. A new search for meaning. What next? I felt lost.

✨ NEW ✨

My 10-Step Guide to Starting a Travel Blog—Click Here to Download Now

Everything you need to start your travel blog today, 28 full-color pages that walk you through the entire process from idea to published posts, without jargon, shortcuts, or guesswork. It’s designed for absolute beginners who want clarity, structure, and a calm, confident way to start.

Sparking, starting a website

So I did what any newly-found rudderless person would do. Absolutely nothing. I pretended that it didn’t matter to me, that I was perfectly ok with it. I was fine.

It was just around then that we booked a last-minute trip to the Caribbean for the New Year. We are not last-minute people, yet somehow always get caught off guard when it comes to the festive season. You’d think it didn’t happen each year at exactly the same time. I’m as baffled as you are.

Turks and Caicos

We scored what may have been the last villa in Turks and Caicos. With a pool and beachfront location, we were grateful we found it. There was more cloud coverage than one would want, and Daniel caught a parasite. But it was the year of the East Coast polar vortex, and we were on the beach. No complaints.

On New Year’s Day, I sat on the beach and rediscovered my desire to start a travel website.

Starting a Blog. What’s in a name?

I spent hours thinking of a name, filling pages in my journal with hundreds of clichéd ideas. I googled any viable contenders. Taken.

Lost and Found popped up like a cartoon thought bubble. It felt good—ethereal, not too specific, open-minded, aspirational. I got excited for the first time—until I googled it. Taken.

GoDaddy suggested I buy the domain name lostandfound.com for $5,000. Thank you, but no, GoDaddy, I’ll pass. As per usual, when I’m annoyed or discouraged, I complain to my husband. Daniel’s immediate response was, “Call it, I am Lost and Found”.

I was thrilled, then annoyed again. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I’m the creative one. But I loved it. It was even better than Lost and Found. It is a statement about me, my travels, mand y travel stories. It’s who I am, or more accurately, who I wanted to be.

I googled it. Then, I bought it.

In case I forgot to say it, Daniel, thank you.

If you build it

I dug into my library of travel experiences, zeroed in on trips, selected photos, and started building a website. I wanted I am Lost and Found to be a cross-section of luxury and adventure travel. Anecdotal, first-person, and more than anything else, inspirational. As long as I can, I will stay on that path.

My family has had the opportunity to live abroad and to expose our kids to different cultures. I’ve visited 48 countries on six continents. For all of that, I am grateful. It is from these adventures and travels that I create content.

I know that circumstances can change. To paraphrase the ancient adage, that is the only constant thing. Should that happen, I plan to find other ways to stay relevant. I can evolve, and my writing can, too.

At a villa in Mexico a few years back, a friend suggested I might need to rename my site ‘I am Lost and Broke’ as many of my adventures lean towards the splurge side of travel. Perhaps one day, James, but not quite yet.

Travel Goals

I am often asked what my goal is for I am Lost and Found. For a while, I had no answer. I touted platitudes: ‘It’s a passion project!’, and ‘I’m just doing it for fun!’. While there is truth in both statements, I knew deep down that I wanted it to succeed and that I had to define what that success would look like.

I realize my goal is exactly where I started—to inspire others to travel. Would I like to make money by inspiring travel? Yes. Would I like more exposure, more followers, and more subscribers? Yes, yes, yes. Do I want to be sent on media trips to fabulous hotels and get a byline in Travel+Leisure magazine? Yes!

Overcoming vulnerability

Starting a travel website has given me a different sense of purpose, as well as an outlet for creativity. Some of my favorite posts are the ones with a more personal narrative. Like ‘Traveling Around The Room’, written on the cusp of the pandemic. Or, ‘The Best Of Stowe: 10 of Life’s Litt lest Luxuries’, my home away from home.

Botswana

‘Botswana is the Magic Kingdom’ was my very first post. Since then, my style and voice have changed (hopefully for the better), yet it might be the post that I am most proud of—the one that put my vulnerabilities out there for anyone to see.

Brené Brown once said, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.” Keep talking, Brené, I’m listening.

60, and counting

This is my 60th post—sixty posts in six years. I still get anxious when I press ‘Publish’ on WordPress, and never more so than when I pressed it today. But it doesn’t rule me. I started this website with the support of friends, family, and my always-available tech guru, Grant. It was, and is, a constant labor of love.

Just don’t call it a blog.

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September 18, 2025
Sveti Stefan, Modern Day Luxury in a 15th c. Village

Imagining the past at Sveti Stefan, Montenegro

The 15th-century island village of Sveti Stefan is a dot in the Adriatic Sea—no cars, golf carts, or bicycles, just narrow pedestrian lanes and thousands of stone steps. The perimeter is a mere 1.2 miles, only accessible by foot along an isthmus from the mainland, and only if you are a guest at the hotel that now occupies the entire island.

Yes, a dot in the Adriatic, but if someone asked me to spend a year there taking photographs, I doubt I would run out of material.

Village Life at Sveti Stefan

First, there’s the light, which changes the colors on the sun-bleached stone walls dramatically, and without fail, each passing hour. Rustic reds and burnt oranges in the mornings were especially spectacular. Second, the sky. Some days, it is gray and lavender hues; other days, it is cerulean and bright blues—the color of the sea taking its cue from the sky above.

Third, the sea—in the mornings flat and as reflective as a mirror, glassy and ethereal, then later in the day with undulating rows of puffy whitecaps. Boats unceasingly circle and crisscross in all directions to catch sight of the exclusive private island — super yachts, schooners, gulets, and small, unassuming fishing boats all within view.

Lastly, the mountains. Detailed during the day with razor-sharp green Adriatic pines and patches of steel craggy rocks. As the sun sets, they blur into a watercolor of overlapping shades of lavender, blue, and gray before finally sharpening to solid black against the final rays of sunlight that edge out the sky. On the island, you notice never-ending geometric patterns and colors to capture. Each day, I saw something that wasn’t there the day before. An artist’s playground in angle, palette, and dimension—a Bauhaus lover’s paradise.

Black Mountains of Montenegro

Montenegro, meaning ‘black mountain’, is a truly scenic and unspoiled country, home to the second tallest people in the world, as we were told on our drive from Dubrovnik to Sveti Stefan. The border crossing from Croatia to Montenegro typically takes three hours, but it took us six due to a travel error on my part that had us driving on a Saturday in the peak of summer.

The upside? We could see the coastline, take a car ferry alongside a very pretty mountain pass, and admire the old town of Budva from afar. We passed Croatian and Montenegrin vineyards, looming mountain ranges, valley villages marked by a single church spire, and ancient buildings that looked as if they were hanging on to the mountainside for dear life.

They say the mountains in Montenegro are some of the most rugged in Europe. I wish we could say we saw more of Montenegro than the drives to and from the airport, as we had every intention, but once we set foot within the walls of Aman Sveti Stefan, we knew we were there to stay.

If the walls could talk at Sveti Stefan

The village of Sveti Stefan was purchased in 2007 by Aman Resorts, which invested significant time and money in creating a luxury resort while preserving the village’s authentic vibe. The rooms are modern and feature all your desired amenities, including free-standing soaking tubs in oversized bathrooms, intimate terraces, Nespresso machines, and complimentary wine.

However, the details of the original village lovingly remain. The windows, sashes, walls, lantern lighting, and red ceramic rooftops are all restored in aesthetic harmony.

Gaze around any corner and notice the ivy climbing effortlessly along the thick, mortared walls, creating a lush blanket of green. The iron lanterns illuminate just enough of the pathways at night to find your way back to your room after an al fresco dinner at a table that appears to hover above the sea. The air feels steeped in history, in the way only a 600-year-old village can.

Wander along the aptly named paths, Cliff Lane, Church Lane, and Oleander Walk, while admiring the eight hundred mature olive trees that seamlessly nestle into the landscape. White oleanders, wild rosemary, and wondrous cypresses fill up the nooks and crannies.

Slits cut out in the stone walls that were once where bows and arrows were launched when the island had to defend itself still remain today, offering a perfect portal to take photos. The village winds up to its final elevation like a corkscrew, and every step up reveals a different view. I’ve never been so relaxed and happy while being so completely lost.

At Sveti Stefan, the Beaches are fit for a King

The resort has three ‘private’ beaches on the mainland, and an Aman boat will shuttle you from the rocky island launch to the beach as you need. All beaches in Montenegro are public, but the Aman evades this in a crafty way, charging a mandatory 100 euros for the use of the beach umbrellas.

Built in the 1930s, Villa Miločer was the summer residence of Queen Marija Karadordevic of Serbia. It is now the mainland beach hotel of the Aman resort, with eight magnificent suites. The design is quite different from Sveti Stefan: sleeker and more modern, with touches of leather and suede, parquet floors, and white marble accents.

There is a library in the communal area and mature gardens surrounding the villa. The boat will drop you at King’s Beach, where a passage through a dark cave reveals beach access to either King’s or Queen’s beaches.

You can spend the day eating, drinking, swimming, and lounging—all within view of the island and its iconic terra cotta roof tiles. We spent days on stony King’s Beach, only getting up to have a Chablis-infused lunch under the lush wisteria canopy of Villa Miločer. The options include Mediterranean-style hummus, baba ganoush, tzatziki, and flatbreads, olives, olive oil, and various Montenegrin specialties.

Back to Sveti Stefan’s Villa Miločer

We decided to come back for dinner that evening at Villa Miločer, as a particular dish on the menu caught our eye while we were enjoying lunch—a truffle-infused whole chicken baked in a thick crust of salt. Unfortunately, a 24-hour advance notice is required for preparation. But the waiter asked the chef, who kindly accommodated us that evening.

The chicken was decadent and lived up to its reputation; the setting looked and felt like a completely different restaurant in the evening. It was still under the wisteria, but now highlighted with candles and dangling lights.

We chose a unique red wine from Slovenia, a 2009 Carolina Select by Jakoncic Goriska Brda—a blend of Merlot and a bit of Cabernet Sauvignon that is powerful with intense flavors of spice, tobacco, and currant. We ordered it most nights; it was fantastic and went well with the Montenegrin meals.

Terrace Life perfected at Sveti Stefan

Each evening, we made a point of arriving at the terrace of Sveti Stefan’s restaurant, Arva, for drinks by 7:30pm to catch the sunsets. It was like getting the best seats to a hot new Broadway show, but in this case, every seat had the best view.

Each sunset was unique, the first with clouds high enough to reflect luminously in the outdoor pool, shades of pink and red mirroring the sky so spectacularly. The next night was cloudless, yet no less breathtaking. The other two nights were somewhere in between, with the clouds serving as the perfect vehicle to carry the sunset’s colors as they seemed to melt into the sky. In the background, the layered mountains in every shade of blue and charcoal add even more depth to the scenery.

The dinners at the Sveti Stefan restaurant will forever be chiseled in my mind as possibly the prettiest and most breathtaking, with the ultimate sweeping views of the sunset and the sea. The tables are first-come, first-served each night, with no reservations. We scoped out a particularly unique table at the tip of a triangular peak on the patio, with unobstructed views of the sea, sun, and beach.

We lingered there for hours, capturing every nuance of the sun’s light until we could only see Mars and twinkling stars above us in the jet-black sky. Overall, the menu was international, but the sauces and flavors had lots of lovely Montenegrin touches.

The service was effortless, and the banter was just friendly enough to make you feel comfortable. One night, a local Montenegrin guitar player spent a few hours playing folk music while we dined, an experience that added much magic to an already magical setting.

Pool/beach? Both/and at Sveti Stefan

Our mornings were spent at the beach after a leisurely breakfast at the restaurant in the central piazza at the top of the village. Two of the four village churches are within view, with white umbrellas to shield the sun while we gaze out towards the vast Adriatic. Lemon ricotta pancakes with blueberries and honeycomb, toasted homemade granola, banana porridge, and freshly baked warm pastries were among the choices.

The service and staff at the Aman restaurants were friendly and intuitive. And they seemed to outnumber the guests 2:1, even at peak capacity. And with 50 rooms on the island, it was hard to believe, as it never felt crowded. There was always someone on hand to offer directions and a warm smile.

Later in the day, we would head to one of the three pools on the island: one is for the private Adriatic Suite, another is for adults only, and one is for families. We only had one option, having our kids in tow, but truth be told, the family pool is by far more interesting than the adult pool, where I had the chance to relax alone one afternoon.

The views from the family pool are sweeping, intimate, and uncrowded. In fact, in four days, we only saw a handful of other guests, which made it feel like our own private pool, complete with bar and food service. The kids gulped down freshly made mango smoothies, and we treated ourselves to a bottle of rosé while reading books and settling into the afternoon.

Chasing the view

We did manage to leave the property once during our stay, on foot, to a steep viewpoint high above a local monastery. Our kids moaned the entire time, so we left them in the dust to bond over how annoyed they were with us for dragging them up a mountain in the heat.

Chasing a view has always been a great pastime for us, and passing up the chance to see Sveti Stefan from above seemed unimaginable, as photo-ready as it is! For the five minutes we lingered at the top, it was worth the complaints, the intense heat, and the bushwacking through brambles on the way back.

The photos above Sveti Stefan have likely been taken many thousands of times. While mine are no more or less unique than any other, I am glad I had the chance to see them and capture them for myself.

Early mornings at Sveti Stefan

On our last morning in Montenegro, I spent an hour or so watching life unfold on the sea and land from our terrace—the public beach filled with sun-seekers, inflatable flamingos, unicorns, and swans bobbing in the water.

The Aman beaches were nearly empty, a lone man raking the quiet sand in anticipation of the day ahead. The entrepreneurial fishermen are checking their pots for lobsters, and the yachts are pulling up anchor and heading up the coast toward Kotor. The stone walls of the village were tinged with pale blues and dusty roses in the early morning light, the heavy white mortar creating mesmerizing patterns. I thought four days would be enough here, but I left wishing for more.

They say that Aman put Montenegro on the map for American tourists, which is understandable, given that it is such a stellar brand of resort. However, we are now eager to come back and explore deeper into the country, the off-the-beaten-path villages, the vineyards, and the culture. Although we’d be hard-pressed not to incorporate another few nights at Sveti Stefan again.

So, while I wait patiently to be hired as Instagrammer-in-Chief for Aman Sveti Stefan, I will have to settle for reliving my memories through thousands of photos, my crystal clear memories of the divine views, and the hope that I might find myself lost again in the never-ending passageways of this timeless village.

Author’s Note: Aman Sveti Stefan is currently closed, but is due to reopen in the summer of 2026.

August 20, 2025
100 (Amazing) Places To Go

When my kids were little, the 100th day of school was a very big deal. In the days leading up to the 100th day, the excitement was exponential. There were 100th-day projects, 100th-day activities, and 100th-day surprises—all culminating in a 100th-day celebration with a guest appearance by Zero the Hero (a masked superhero played by their teacher’s fiancé).

I never questioned why the 100th day of school was such a big deal. I was knee-deep in 100 Honey Nut Cheerios, 100 LifeSavers, and 100 cotton balls—all glued to neon construction paper courtesy of Elmer. Elementary school was a blur of sticky little fingers wreaking havoc on our black labs and white sofas.

The 100th day of school. For teachers—a way to nurture a love of math. For parents—a categorical mess.

This is my 100th post. I’m as excited by this number as any 1st-grader about to meet their first superhero. To mark the occasion, I won’t abuse processed oats or hard candy. I won’t use glue. Instead, I’ll list 100 places I want to go.

As a point of clarification, these are not 100 places to visit before you die, not the top 100 places to visit in 2025, and definitely not 100 places to see after you die (wow, sometimes Google suggestions are entirely off the mark).

Just 100 (amazing) places.

Lists of lists

My travel wish list has lived in my phone’s Notes App for years, quietly snowballing with conversations overheard in coffee shops, inspiring Instagram posts, friend recommendations, and sidebars in Travel + Leisure magazines. I’ve grouped them into a few broad categories to add structure. But that’s about it. A random, cobbled assortment of (amazing) places to go. 100 places to inspire your next trip. 100 places to add to your travel wish list.

Do you have a travel wish list?

It’s time to create one.

Mustique

Counting to 100

Listing these 100 places was an interesting exercise—sort of like time travel. I thought back to how, years ago, my list was filled with fancy beach hotels in Mexico—places with kids’ clubs so I could have lunch with my husband without cutting quesadillas into poquito pieces. Back then, Caribbean resorts mesmerized me with miles of pristine coastline where my kids would argue over one square foot of sand.

Later, my list included glamorous city hotels so Daniel and I could dine at Michelin-starred restaurants and sit for hours at sidewalk cafés. The kids were the ideal ages to stay with grandparents. Grandparents who thought sno-cones for lunch was perfectly acceptable.

Montenegro (even from behind, Ella looks completely unimpressed)

As the kids got older, we found places with activities we could do as a family—adventurous spots that didn’t solely revolve around the beach or pool. Our kids will deny it, but they hated hiking from the ages of 8-18. Daniel and I selfishly marched them up mountains, forcing them to admire views in places like Montenegro, Mallorca, and Montana. The only times our kids got along was when they were lagging fifty feet behind, complaining about these (their words) god-awful, miserable hikes. They cried child abuse. We hiked faster.

Now, they act like they invented hiking. Jimmy Chin is Ella’s idol. Chase races us to the summit. Parenting is a thankless job.

100 (Amazing) Places To Go

It’s worth mentioning this list is aspirational. If you hope to find budget-friendly and easy-to-get-to destinations, you’re reading the wrong blog. But—if you’re hoping to get inspired and find a few splurge-worthy vacation spots, read on—100 very expensive ideas await!

And lastly, those marked ( * ) are currently at the tippy top of my list.

Pikaia Lodge, Ecuador

Resorts

*Pikaia Lodge, Ecuador

Six Senses Duoro Valley, Portugal

Our Habitas Atacama, Chile

*Isla Secas, Panama

Amangalla, Sri Lanka

Passalacqua, Lake Como, Italy

*Rosewood Kona Village, Hawaii

Susafa, Italy

Six Senses Zighy Bay, Oman

Kachi Lodge, Bolivia

*Chablé Yucatan, Mexico

NIHI Sumba, Indonesia

Hotel Esencia, Mexico

Paradero Todos Santos, Mexico

Sublime Comporta, Portugal

Eteréo, Mexico

Rosewood Vienna, Austria

Forestis Dolomites

Adventure Hotels and Lodges

*Forestis Dolomites, Italy

Tordrillo Mountain Lodge, Alaska

The Three Chimneys, Isle of Skye

*Eriro, Austria

Highland Base, Iceland

Nekupe, Nicaragua

Puquio, Peru

Wilderness Mombo Camp, Botswana

Rosewood Cape Kidnappers, New Zealand

Kisawa Sanctuary, Mozambique

Ilmanaq Lodge, Iceland

Maroma, A Belmond Hotel, Riviera Maya, Mexico

*Shinta Mani Mustang, Nepal

Cheetah Plains Private Game Reserve, South Africa

*Awasi Patagonia, Chile

Taylor River Lodge, Colorado, USA

Shangri La Muscat Canyon Wadi Rum, Jordan

Tierra Patagonia, Chile

Jack’s Camp, Botswana

Hotel Foroyar, Faroe Islands

Fogo Island Inn, Newfoundland

The Omnia, Zermatt, Switzerland

One&Only Gorilla’s Nest, Rwanda

Al Maha, Dubai

Al Moudira, Egypt

Boutique Hotels

*Al Moudira, Egypt

Farmhouse Inn, CA

The Ned Hotel, London

Borgo Santo Pietro, Tuscany, Italy

Son Blanc Farmhouse, Menorca, Spain

Ellerman House, CapeTown

Venice Venice Hotel, Italy

Single Thread Farm, CA

*Ett Hem, Sweden

Aman Rosa Alpina, Dolomites, Italy

Piaule Catskill, NY

The Ned NoMad, NY

The Tokyo EDITION, Tokyo

Hasbrouck House, NY

La Samanna, A Belmond Hotel, St. Martin

Dawn Ranch, CA

Silversands Beach House, Grenada

Casa Polanco, Mexico City

Bishop’s Lodge, Auberge Resorts Collection, Santa Fe, NM

Hotel Sanders, Copenhagen

Post Ranch Inn, CA

The Rooster Antiparos, Greece

*Eleven Rio Palena Lodge, Chile

TRUNK, Tokyo

Palazzo Margherita, Italy

Lime Wood, UK

Splendido, A Belmond Hotel, Portofino, Italy

White Barn Inn, Auberge Resorts Collection, Kennebunk, Maine

Petit St Vincent, Caribbean

Private Islands

*Petit St Vincent, Caribbean

Miavana, Madagascar

Bawah Reserve, Indonesia

*Naoshima, Japan

Kokomo Private Island Resort, Fiji

Kudadoo Maldives Private Island

Alaska

Destinations

*Alaska

Sardinia, Italy

*Svalbard, Norway

Namibia

Galapagos Islands

Gstaad, Switzerland

Nepal

Jordan

Malta

*Faroe Islands

Aselund, Norway

Kerala, India

South Georgia Island

Saxony, Germany

*Oaxaca, Mexico

Orient Express

Alternative Travel

*The Venice-Simplon Orient Express, A Belmond Train

Nour El Nil, The Nile River Boat, Egypt

Koks, Faroe Islands

Restaurants

*Koks, Faroe Islands

Den, Tokyo

Quince, San Francisco

Cosme, New York City

Alinea, Chicago

*Single Thread, CA

Florilége, Tokyo

Funke, Los Angeles

*The top of my wish list (subject to change)

100, and counting

I started this blog, (I mean, website), in 2018 with a handful of subscribers and even fewer Instagram followers. Today, I’ve reached my 100th post, have several thousand subscribers, and over 10K Instagram followers. No one is more surprised by these stats than me—and probably my daughter.

I love this ~~blog~~ ~~website~~ blog. It’s given me a creative outlet beyond helping my kids find 100-round things to glue to construction paper. It’s taken my travels to new levels, as I’m constantly thinking about how to best describe what I’m seeing and experiencing, which, in turn, helps me see and experience things differently. 100 posts (often with suspect grammar and incorrect punctuation) about travel.

What’s the point?

I think about this list. What’s the point? I won’t get through 10% of it in my lifetime. But that’s precisely the point. The list will change as I change. Some places will fall off my radar as others replace them. Some will make no sense—did I really want to go to Easter Island??? Others will attempt to recapture those years when my kids waddled along the beach in saggy, swimmy diapers.

I’ll never finish my list. I’ll never win. The hard-core list makers of the world might have trouble with this concept. I know I do. Or, I did. Until I realized that’s the best part: adding, subtracting, and multiplying (the math metaphors are neverending!) destinations. It’s ok to lose.

My kids are adults now. They stopped believing in Zero the Hero around the same time they found out about the tooth fairy. But I thank the teachers, especially Mrs. Haese and her long-suffering husband Derek (aka Zero the Hero), for doing their job. My kids can count. And because they can count, they have lists of their own. Lists that will expand and change as their lives expand and change.

Those elementary school years are a sticky, messy blur. My clearest memories are from our family vacations. So, I’ll keep adding.

Will my list look completely different in ten years? Or even five?

I’m counting on it.

January 4, 2025
How To Find The Best Hotel For Your Next Adventure

Do you ever wonder how to find the best hotel for your next adventure? It isn’t rocket science, but I do have my approach to finding what I consider the ‘best’ hotels. Think you have nothing left to learn? Let’s compare notes. And enjoy photos from some of my favorite hotels, resorts, and villas along the way.

“How did you find that adventure lodge in Iceland?”

“Where was that surfing resort in Nicaragua you loved?”

“What time of year is the best to go to Tuscany?”

Villa Laura, Italy

I love questions like these. Sourcing travel ideas and inspiration is my straight-up obsession. Sharing those ideas and inspiration is where I really thrive.

Decades of research, legwork, and exploration have led me here. A space where I can share what to do, and what not to do when it comes to finding hotels. Strategies and tips for practical travelers, as well as indulgent ones.

Take it from me—the most indulgent, practical traveler I know.

Playa Vik, Uruguay

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My Process

Finding a hotel is pretty straightforward. Finding the one that suits your specific needs, fits your budget, and style, and is in exactly the right location? Well, that’s not as straightforward.

Aman Sveti Stefan, Montenegro

For those who believe a hotel room is merely a place to rest your head, this post isn’t for you. A vacation extends beyond the top sights, activities, and beaches. Where I choose to spend my time, hotel-wise, matters.

The Four Seasons, Punta Mita

We all have our non-negotiable points when choosing a place to stay. That might be a sprawling property with an infinity-edged pool for the kids. Or on-site surfing for the adventure-seekers.

Gilpin Hotel, England

A boutique hotel with a 10-seat Michelin-starred restaurant for the foodies. Or, a UNESCO World Heritage Site nearby for the history buffs. Knowing your travel style and travel needs is paramount.

Choose Keywords With Care

Google is designed with the user in mind. She’s a crowd-pleaser. But be prepared to put in some work to make sure you get what you want. The keywords you choose are essential.

For some, diving into a Google search is a rabbit hole with overwhelming information. For others, it’s second nature. Like turning the pages of Amor Towles’ latest novel. Use Google to narrow down to a place that fits the bill budget-wise, size-wise, and location-wise. It’s far easier when you have a system.

Blackberry Mountain, Tennessee

If you are on my site often enough, you know that I lean toward places that combine luxury and adventure. For instance, when I travel, I often start my search with keywords like ‘luxury hotel in ________’ and ‘adventure luxury hotel in ________’.

Let’s work with an example. Alaska is a destination on my radar for next summer. While that sounds far off, consider that many hotels and resorts are fully booked for Christmas 2021.

My keywords and phrases:

Best luxury hotel in Alaska

Luxury lodges in Alaska

Best resorts for wildlife in Alaska

Top places to see wildlife in Alaska

Broadening to other interests, I might also search:

Alaska hotels for foodies

Best restaurants in Alaska

Top wellness resorts in Alaska

As common sense dictates, the more narrow a keyword search is, the better the results. Since I’m open to going anywhere in Alaska, I can afford to be broad. Naturally, finding the hotel with my wishlist becomes easier with the right keywords in place.

Other keywords I use:

Adventure travel for couples

Remote spa destinations

Bucket list travel ideas

Luxury hotels for families

Remote escapes for foodies

Best family hiking locations

Luxury family travel

Villa Ixfalia, St Barths

Consider The Source

Once I land on a page, I immediately skip past the ads. I scan for my trusted travel sources. Those websites and publications have time and again proven to be worthy.

My sources include Travel+Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, Forbes, and Afar. Combined, these sites begin to uncover the ideal hotel for my specific destination.

I start to notice where the hotel recommendations overlap and consider the positives and negatives of each review. I take note of the hotels that show up across multiple sources. Cross-referencing is key.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t cite my beloved New York Times as a primary source. I always google ’36 hours in _______’ to see if my destination has been recently reviewed. Inevitably, I discover a wealth of info worth saving beyond hotel choices, like a local coffee shop or a lesser-known museum.

Nobu Ryokan, Malibu

Follow The Bloggers

Unsurprisingly, I also follow blogs. Here are a few that are especially helpful to me.

hotelsabovepar: A self-acknowledged ‘boutique hotel pundit and enthusiast’, Brandon Berkson is my hotel hero (if such an entity exists).

thegoodthebadandtheluxurious: Prepare to be amused or cringe. A quick-witted (and sometimes scathing) review of the most expensive hotels in the world.

thisistheplaceiwastellingyouabout: Two young Texans created this well-curated lifestyle blog that combines photography, food, coffee, and travel. My people.

Kasbah Bab Ourika, Atlas Mountains, Morocco

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Know Thyself

It’s as important to note what I don’t like in a hotel as much as what I do like. Take the case of Alaska. Do I want a 500+ room hotel spread over three towers, with four restaurants, and an athletic club? (No, thank you.)

Would I like a remote, fly-in-only wilderness lodge that prides itself on conservation and sustainability? (Yes, please.)

What if I’m keen on discovering the next Alaskan hot spot? That takes more digging. This brings me to my next point.

1 Hotel, South Beach

Visit the Google Graveyard

The Google Graveyard—page two of a Google search. Likely because most users find the information they need on page one and have no need to venture beyond.

Being the intrepid explorer that I am, I like to head out as far as pages three or four. I enjoy reading what the lesser-known bloggers (like me) and alternative online sources have to say. Don’t be afraid, there is compelling content to be found beyond page one.

Viceroy Sugar Beach, St Lucia

Re-Search

Experiment with a search that goes outside of the box. Going back to Alaska, I might search “unusual places to stay in Alaska” or “luxury cabin stays in Alaska”. Oftentimes, I’ve widened my preconceived thoughts about a destination with a more specific or quirky search.

For example, when I once used the keywords, ‘resorts with private villas in the Caribbean’. I discovered Viceroy Sugar Beach in St Lucia. We have now been twice.

In fact, let me try that again now. “Unusual places to stay in Alaska” reveals a site about an Alaskan Treehouse on the eastern Kenai Peninsula. Another link uncovers a luxury glacier camping site. New searches, new ideas. I also research if the hotel has a ‘best room’—a seat guru-like technique for hotels instead of planes. For example, we stayed at the Hotel Lydmar in Sweden a few years ago. Happening upon Condé Nast Traveler’s monthly feature, ‘Room With A View’, I discovered Room 512.

Distinctly nautical, the 5th floor offered lovely views of Stockholm through unique portholes. Room 512 was the best room on the 5th floor.

How did I get Room 512? I asked for it.

Check Your Dates

Not your travel dates (although certainly important). The post dates. Who wants to stay at the ‘most Instagrammable hotel of 2016’ or ‘the hottest resort of 2019?’ Post dates are easy to identify, so no time is wasted on dated data.

Looks Matter

A three-second website scan is all I need to tell if a hotel isn’t the place for me. How? The design. Is it laid out with easy-to-read typography, an enticing color scheme, and a gallery of beautiful photos? Are those photos captivating? Most importantly, do I see myself there?

If the site is challenging to navigate or cluttered with bold, italic, or (gasp!) multi-colored, multi-sized fonts, I move on. The art director in me prevails. I prefer to visit a place that prioritizes design and readability and delivers high-quality content. They will likely care about the details I care about.

I go with my gut. If the site feels good, I add it to my shortlist.

Dunton Hot Springs, Colorado

Deep Dive

Having narrowed it down to my top three stand-out hotel or resort choices, I take a deep dive into each site.

1. First, I check that the hotel locations are correct. I once booked a hotel I assumed was in Positano but (surprise!) ended up being in Amalfi.

2. Then, I search ‘the best month to travel to _______. I still remember booking a villa in Thailand during the rainy season.

3. Are my travel dates available? Is there a minimum stay? Am I being fleeced by a resort during the festive season? And if so, can I live with that?

4. What does the fine print say? Is there ongoing construction next door?

5. Which hotel makes me feel like I’ll regret my choice forever if I don’t go? That’s the one I choose.

Then, I book it.

Overshare

I pride myself on finding the right (hotel, villa, or resort) for me and my family. Sometimes I get it wrong (as noted above). Often, that tends to happen when I haven’t done the research. Even my biggest travel flubs tend to have a good outcome. The hotel in Amalfi was divine—a happy Italian accident.

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July 9, 2024
Where’s Corsica? The Ultimate Guide To Our Corsica Travels

Our Corsica travels take us canyoning through mountains and hiking to mountaintop lakes. Our Corsica travels take us from party beaches to remote ones. Traveling in Corsica is an adventure a day, sprinkled with riverside retreats, clifftop restaurants, and the occasional wild pig.

Where’s Corsica, exactly? And does it belong on your travel wish list? Read on.

“If you don’t project yourself outwards,” our canyoning instructor says calmly, “it will end—how do you say in English—badly.”

I peer over the granite ledge. A gushing waterfall lies to my left, and a rock face extends 30 feet below. I feel, rather than see, my husband and kids doubting me from the water below. ‘Terrified’ vastly understates my singular emotion.

“Project outwards”, our guide repeats. Ever the rule follower, I close my eyes and—

Don’t panic, Mom; it ends well.

Where’s Corsica, exactly?

“Corsica is Italian.”, one friend says. Another assures me it’s Greek. The island of Corsica is closer to mainland Italy than any other country. Yet, surprise!—it’s a territory of France.

Who knew? I sure didn’t. Corsica is as elusive as Keyser Söze in The Usual Suspects. We meet only three other Americans on our trip. A testament to how relatively unknown Corsica is in the United States.

Why visit Corsica? I’ll pretend you asked. Follow along on our island adventures to discover what makes Corsica worth finding on a map.

As an aside, if The Usual Suspects reference escaped you, head over to your sofa and watch it. I’ll wait.

Corsica: What I wish I knew

Corsica is the fourth-largest island in the Mediterranean. There is no public transportation, so renting a car is a must. But be warned: Narrow roads and lanes run serpentine around colossal boulders and cliffs. Hairpin turns are frequent and hair-raising.

There are few, if any, barriers between cars and sudden death. Corsican drivers take to the roads like Lewis Hamilton wannabes. They drive like angry wasps. They laugh at lanes. According to my kids, I gasp 3,000 times. And that number doesn’t include the times I disguise my gasp as a cough.

I’m not making a case for Corsica. Bear with me. It gets better.

Corsica: by the numbers

Corsica is 112 miles long at its longest and 52 miles wide at its widest. It has 620 miles of coastline with 200 beaches. It’s home to the world-famous GR 20 Trail and has over 120 summits. Simmer down Corsica, my flights are booked.

We have 12 days. I want to cover ground but not feel rushed. Visit areas with different terrain and activities. Dine on authentic Corsican food and drink local wine. It’s a tall order, but Corsica delivers.

In Corsica, there are no bad regions (only bad drivers). Note the map of our route above. Those art school fees are really paying off, Dad.

Instead of a linear path (hahaha, there are no linear paths in Corsica!) I’ve outlined the highlights from our three destinations in Corsica. Will any of our adventures inspire you to visit? Let’s find out.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

Corsica Travels: Canyoning, Haut-Corse

I jump—plunging into the cold canyon water with semi-wild abandon. I emerge, still holding my nose, to looks of disbelief (my kids, our guide) and pride (my husband). See, Mom? No need to panic.

“What is canyoning?” you ask. A friend aptly describes canyoning as ‘white water rafting without a raft.’ Hmmm, I don’t even enjoy white water rafting with a raft. The gorges and valleys of the Restonica River are widely known for the sport. If I’m going to try it, I’m in the right place.

After a sweaty 45-minute bathing-suit-clad hike, we put on our wetsuits, helmets, and water shoes. This isn’t pretty. Note the lack of photographic evidence. You’ll have to take me at my word.

We wade into a crystal clear pool of water. It’s crazy fun—to use a technical canyoning term. We scale boulders, swim under waterfalls, jump off cliffs, slide over rocks, and zip line above the river with child-like joy.

White water rafting without a raft turns out to be my new favorite sport.

Corsica Travels: Hiking, Haut-Corse

Our holiday wouldn’t be complete without a ~~treacherous~~ hike organized by my husband. The fact that Daniel and I fight when we hike would lead one to think it’s an activity to be avoided. But, no.

The ride to the trailhead is short yet harrowing. Blind corners with unyielding boulders on one side and unnerving precipices on the other. My kids will say I’m being hyperbolic. Wait. They don’t know what hyperbolic means. They’ll say I’m being emo.

Our goal is a 4-mile in-and-out hike to Lac de Melu in Haut-Corse. The lake sits at an elevation of 5,610 ft. Why we never visit sea-level lakes as regular people do baffles me. The views, (it pains me to admit), are worth the struggle. Don’t tell Daniel.

The landscape is prehistoric. I feel small—like ‘on the set of Jurassic Park’ small. Instead of ferocious dinosaurs, though, we encounter docile cows. Tall pines and fragrant alders look tiny against the towering, jagged mountains that loom in the distance.

Rangy rock faces glisten in the colors of Olympic medals. A gold medal is exactly what I’ll deserve after a day dodging cow dung with two moody teenagers. That, and a vodka tonic.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

Corsica Travels: Coastal Towns and Vineyards

Choosing which towns to visit on an island with 650 miles of coastline is challenging. But I rise to it. Three exceptional examples follow.

PORTO-VECCHIO

Porto-Vecchio is a harbor town in southeast Corsica. Its focal point is Eglise St. Jean-Baptiste, a 19th-century church tower. Beside the church, an old-fashioned merry-go-round slowly rotates, delighting children.

Boutiques, wine shops, and restaurants are abuzz on the piazza. The heartbeat of Porto-Vecchio is palpable. A lovely introduction to Corsican life.

BONIFACIO

Bonifacio towers over the southernmost tip of Corsica. Its sculpted chalk-white limestone cliffs plunge dramatically into the Mediterranean Sea. These imposing sea walls make Bonifacio one of the most popular places to visit in Corsica.

Bonifacio is as picturesque as it is historical. The Staircase of King Aragon sits 200 feet above the sea. It was built in 1420 to access a freshwater well. Each of the 189 irregular stone steps is an accident waiting to happen, yet they are the highlight of my day.

After I reach the bottom, I walk along and under caves of eroding limestone. The Mediterranean views are interrupted only by paper-white sails of passing schooners. The water is luminous.

The downside of King Aragon’s arduous steps is as clear as the sea. What goes down must come up. I curse you, King Aragon. My quads still hurt.

PATRIMONIO

Patrimonio is considered Corsica’s best-known wine region. Our drive through Patrimonio reveals patterns of terraced vineyards in the foreground and Saint Florent Bay in the background. It’s a spectacular setting to sample the wines of the region. As an added bonus, it requires no death-defying roads.

We visit Domaine Leccia and Orenga de Gaffory wineries. Since I’m the only one in my family who enjoys wine tasting, I’m forced to drink at record speed. Corsicans do nothing at record speed except drive. Needless to say, I do nothing to alter American stereotypes. I hope the other three Americans in Corsica are better behaved.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

Corsica Travels: Hilltop Villages

While visiting Corsica’s numerous hilltop villages, we hear pealing church bells celebrating a local wedding. We sit on lively piazzas with glasses of cloudy Pastis—a centuries-old pastime. Visiting these villages is another highlight of our Corsica travels.

Learn about private wine-tasting tours near Calvi. Click here!

NONZA

Nonza is located along another sea cliff wall. This time on the west coast of Cap Corse. Nonza is so tiny that by the time we realize we’ve reached it, we’ve passed it. My husband does an 18-point K-turn and finds a place to park. I make a mental note that arguing while driving has surpassed arguing while hiking.

The village centers around the 16th-century church of Saint-Julie. Its bright orange facade stands out against the village’s otherwise white-washed, ancient buildings. Wild oleander is in bloom, in colors to inspire Nars’ next lip gloss shades.

We have lunch at La Sassa, an outdoor-only restaurant with a low-key party vibe and Michelin-worthy food. It is 160 meters above the beach and overhangs the sea.

White-capped waves swirl below, and the Genoese Tower of Nonza soars above—an unparalleled lunch setting, indeed.

Reservations are a must at La Sassa. I’m not proud to admit it, but I felt smug watching hungry onlookers envy my tuna tartare.

CORTE

Corte lies deep in the mountainous interior of the island. The air smells of pine, the humidity is low, and rivers and waterfalls rumble gently in the distance.

Although crowded, the town of Corte feels untouched by mainstream tourism. The piazza overflows with locals. A musician croons. I notice people sitting on windowsills above—catching notes as they rise into the sky. I capture a snapshot of Corsican life in my mind rather than with my camera.

Corte steals my heart in the subtlest ways, with its hidden pottery studios, produce markets, and a spectacular citadel piercing the sky. When I return home, I’ll remember these moments—the simplicity and authenticity—and I’ll miss them.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

OLETTA

Oletta is the opposite of the lively and musical Corte. It’s eerily quiet, with jagged stone steps and paths that weave intricately around the village. Flowers and vines climb crumbling stone walls and overflow from ceramic pots. How they grow is a mystery, as Oletta’s narrow, sleepy streets hardly allow for sunlight to reach them.

One evening, we dine in the village, and the residents magically appear—playing cards, laughing, and drinking. Where have they been hiding?

We sit outdoors at A Forge, a restaurant overlooking the valley. By the time we head back to our hotel, everyone has disappeared, and the town is silent again.

Corsica Travels: Beaches

The beaches surrounding Corsica range from nearly deserted, boat-access only to restaurant-lined with a party vibe. For the sake of keeping my audience engaged (are you still with me?), two of many standouts follow.

THE LAVEZZI ISLANDS ARCHIPELAGO

The Lavezzi Islands Archipelago, in southern Corsica, is just a few miles from Bonifacio’s formidable limestone walls. Accessible only by boat, it’s an aquatic playground for divers and snorkelers alike.

Some islands are quiet, with gigantic granite boulders that break the water’s glassy surface. Coral reefs are chock full of colorful schools of fish.

Other islands are a party on the sea with tranquil, waist-deep water. This creates a pop-up pool party atmosphere that is impossible not to enjoy. Think bikini-clad (and yikes, Speed-O-clad) people dancing on boats, in-water volleyball games, and colorful inflatable rafts floating on the placid Mediterranean Sea.

Discover the Lavezzi islands and the cliffs of Bonifacio by boat! Click her e.

AGRIATES DESERT

The Agriates Desert, in Northern Corsica, is a barren and dry coastline mainly accessible by boat. Any day in Corsica that doesn’t require driving is my kind of day.

But calling this 40km stretch of protected land a desert is misleading. The Agriates Desert is home to Corsica’s most remote beaches: Windswept, scrub-covered, wild, and sun-scorched.

Windex-colored waters, pale limestone boulders, and wide stretches of golden sand make this part of the Corsican coast so appealing. The air is heavy with history and the scent of the island’s ubiquitous maquis.

Maquis is a scrubby, untamed shrub that covers much of Corsica’s hills. Its scent combines at least nine herbs, including eucalyptus, juniper, rosemary, and heather. The scent is so popular that the famous French perfumery Diptique makes a maquis-scented candle. For $72, I can relive my Corsica memories from home.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

Corsica Travels: Retreats and Hotels

Each of our three accommodations in Corsica is equally enchanting—from riverside retreats to hilltop and beachside boutique hotels. When I ask the kids which place is their favorite, they can’t decide. Well done, me.

LES BERGERIES DE PALOMBAGGIA

Les Bergeries de Palombaggia, in Porto-Vecchio, is a Relais & Chateaux property seven miles from Sardinia. This Italian island’s silhouette provides a never-ending and beautiful backdrop to our stay. Grazie, Italia.

Life at Les Bergeries centers around its inviting infinity-edged pool. The views at sunset, when the sky mirrors the sea, are especially spectacular. Palombaggia Beach is a short, convenient, and pretty walk from the hotel.

The sea air is filled with the aromatic herbs of the maquis. Les Bergeries’ old terra cotta roof tiles have faded to rich hues of sienna and mocha. I spot olive trees with silvery sage leaves and vibrant green umbrella pines. Les Bergeries’ color palette is as French as it gets. The overall vibe is ‘low-key fancy’—my favorite kind.

HIGHLIGHTS Breakfast with locally made jams, crêpes, brioches, and traditional Fiodone (Corsican cheesecake) / La Table de Mina’s poolside dining patio at sunset / Suites with hydrangea-filled balconies overlooking the pool and sea

Check Availability at Les Bergeries de Palambaggia here

HOTEL DOMINIQUE COLONNA

Dominique Colonna, in Corte, is a riverside boutique hotel. Inspired by nature, its charm lies in sheer simplicity. Intentionally spartan in design, the rooms are divine, with small balconies facing the river.

The hotel’s low-impact exterior respectfully sits within the dramatic mountainous scenery. Dominique Colonna is a sublime spot from which we launch our Haut-Corse adventures. But the grounds are so welcoming and intimate that I’m hard-pressed to leave it each day.

HIGHLIGHTS Impeccably-maintained Mediterranean gardens that showcase dwarf olive trees, climbing white jasmine, and Florentine cypresses / The tiered riverside terrace for a breakfast of housemade granolas and local honey / A private massage cube made of wood and glass, nestled in the woods by the pool

Check Availability at Hotel Dominique Colonna here

AETHOS U PALAZZU SERENU

U Palazzu Serenu, in Oletta, was once a 17th-century palace. After a complete restoration, this nine-room hotel is now basking in its original glory. This classic, austere, contemporary boutique hotel has rooms and common spaces designed in layers of white.

Our suite’s white-louvered windows have all-encompassing views of vineyards and Saint Florent Bay. Recycled wood, museum-worthy art, and artfully chosen coffee table books make the rooms feel personal and homey.

U Palazzu Serenu’s unique selling point is its secret access to Oletta. A creaky back gate hidden behind the pool’s tiered lounging area allows me to explore Oletta whenever I want. I go each day, searching for signs of life. Mainly, I see feral cats.

HIGHLIGHTS The small, sheltered dining space by the pool is by reservation only. It serves ‘Italian classics with a Corsican twist.’ The artwork and sculptures are by renowned artists such as Paul de Pignol, Wendy Wischer, and Udo Nöger. The pool. Views from the pool. Drinks at the pool.

In Corsica, All’s Well That Ends Well

It’s pretty hard not to fall for Corsica. Even if that means intentionally falling from a 30-foot granite ledge into a gurgling river. I placed my trust in this rugged, craggy, and far-flung island. I was ever-rewarded.

The beauty of Corsica is in the adventures, but it’s also in the details—the colorful facade of a hilltop church against emerald green mountains. Wild oleander poking through an ancient stone wall beside an abandoned Genoese tower. A pottery studio found only by following wooden signs through a maze-like village. Wild pigs grazing on the side of the road.

As I said, it’s hard not to fall for Corsica. Just don’t forget to project outwards. You won’t regret it.

Click here for my FREE Corsica Hot Sheet (with links to my favorite spots)

Ready to travel—but can’t find the time to plan?

Anyone can Google a destination, but finding the right sources, the hidden gems, the places worth your time—well, that’s an art that takes time. I’ll cut through the noise, saving you from hours of searching in the wrong places. Each of my recommendations is researched with your specific trip in mind.

After visiting 70 countries on 7 continents, I know how overwhelming travel planning can be.

But I also know how to make it easy. And exciting. And stress-free.

Click here to learn more about Jamie Edwards Travel Coaching

My research. Your adventure.

(Please note a few affiliate links above for which I may receive a small referral fee. But rest assured, I only highlight products I fully stand behind.)

May 10, 2024
In 1950, A Party Started At Eden Rock St. Barths. It’s Still Going.

I walk through the airport’s cool, frosted glass doors. Salt-tinged air warms my face. Out here, the party’s in full swing. People gather with glasses in hand. Bottles of Chassagne-Montrachet chill in buckets of ice at their feet. Bursts of laughter radiate from the well-heeled crowd as a rainbow assortment of Minis and Mokes whizzes behind them. It feels like happy hour on a breezy NYC rooftop, not airport arrivals.

I scan the crowd. Our villa manager is easy to spot. He’s wearing tell-tale Eden Rock red. Fred greets us as if we’re old friends. ‘Are you ready?’ he asks with a cheeky grin. It’s unclear what he means by ‘ready.’ But whatever it is, we unanimously agree that we are.

Eden Rock St. Barths—allons-y!

Eden Rock is Rooted in 1950s Glamour

Let’s back up a few decades to set the scene. In the early 1950s, French aviator and adventurer Rémy de Haenen built a hotel on a rocky promontory overlooking a secluded turquoise bay in St. Barths. Rémy dreamed his hotel would become a destination for the rich and famous. It didn’t take long for him to get his wish. Greta Garbo, Howard Hughes, and other celebrities soon christened red-roofed Eden Rock their Caribbean hideaway.

In 1995, Jane and David Matthews purchased Eden Rock from de Haenen. As the story goes, the Matthews (aka Pippa Middleton’s in-laws) sailed to the island and became immediately smitten. Furthering Rémy’s flair for all things fabulous, the Matthews added clifftop cottages and palatial suites, catapulting Eden Rock St. Barths into one of the world’s leading hotels.

Two decades later, the Matthews partnered with Oetker Collection to manage the property, further elevating its already high standards of luxury. Today, one could just as quickly spot a rockstar or an NFL quarterback sitting beside an aging politician or a teenage influencer.

Not a rock star? ‘So what?’ There’s room (and rooms) in St. Barths for all. But the glamour of this chic French island comes at a price—especially if the Eden Rock Hotel or one of its 150 private villas are involved.

Click Here for my Free St. Barths Hot Sheet

The Arrival

En route to our hilltop home away from home, a prop plane passes overhead. And by overhead, I mean I can practically touch it. We navigate a small roundabout where people gather with iPhones shooting video—a popular island activity. In the near distance, the Eden Rock Hotel comes into view. A departing plane is so close to the water it nearly takes the floppy hat off a sunbather.

There are many hotels on St. Barths with dramatic views. But only at Eden Rock can one watch charter planes arrive and depart from the comfort of a cushy sunlounger. Anywhere else, a hotel this close to the runway would be a dealbreaker vacation-wise. Leave it to the French to flip the script. The thrilling take-offs and landings are part of the island’s joie de vivre.

Gray Malin’s ‘The Arrival’

At 2,100 feet long, the runway on St. Barths is one of the world’s shortest, so only small planes can land. Therefore, most people (aside from those who fly private) connect through a neighboring island, usually St. Maarten or Puerto Rico.

To put an exclamation point on this long narrative about a short runway, fine-art photographer Gray Malin chose this very subject for his famous à la plage series. ‘The Arrival’ is one of his best-selling prints, no doubt adorning living room walls from Paris to LA.

The Eden Rock Bubble

It’s easy to get caught up in the Eden Rock bubble. Everyone in it looks so glamorous. Women wear gem-toned Missoni kaftans with oversized woven hats. Men don crisp white linen shirts, pastel-colored shorts, and Italian espadrilles. Their sunkissed kids trail behind them on their way to the Sand Bar for truffle-topped pizzas. It’s island eye candy all around.

The Eden Rock bubble has its own boutique. Did you forget that cute boho dress you planned to wear to Bagatelle? It’s Zimmermann’s crochet wrap to the rescue. Suddenly desperate for a tote that mirrors the bay’s exact shade of blue? Goyard’s Turquoise St. Louis bag with matching beach towel has you covered.

Blue, white, and red may be sewn into the island’s fabric, but the labels are decidedly Off White and Orlebar Brown.

Eden Rock St. Barths, The Hotel

In September 2017, the Eden Rock Hotel suffered extensive damage from Hurricane Irma. By 2019, it had reopened its welcoming red doors to guests eager to reclaim paradise. Eden Rock returned to its former glory with 37 rooms, a Jean-George Vongerichten restaurant, a new world-class spa, and an attentive and absurdly attractive staff of over 200 strong.

Other hotel highlights include the British-Colonial-style Rémy Bar, on-beach spa treatments, professional sunscreen attendants (not a typo), and a roving frosé trolley. Because mon dieu!—at these rates, no one should have to leave their sunlounger for a glass of Whispering Angel.

PC: Eden Rock

Incredibly, all 37 rooms and suites at Eden Rock are individually curated. Jane Matthews lovingly designed them, showcasing local and international artwork at every turn. Some rooms are on the beach, and others are on its famous rocks. All are spectacular.

Inspired by a schooner, the Captain’s Room has brass portholes, maritime leather seats, and a private pool. Spencer’s Room is perched on the face of the rock and pays homage to Africa with eclectic carved wooden masks, woven rugs, and a regal four-poster bed. Then there’s the Pippa, the Garbo, and the Howard Hughes. How to choose? A champagne problem, indeed.

Click Here for my Free St. Barths Hot Sheet

PC: Eden Rock

Villa Like a Rockstar

There isn’t a superlative that hasn’t been used to describe the Eden Rock Hotel. This puts me at a loss for words to describe their most extravagant villa. At 17,000 square feet, Villa Rockstar is called ‘a two hundred million dollar yacht on land.’ Between us, that isn’t much of a selling point. I’d rent a yacht if I wanted to be on a yacht. But who am I to question the marketing team of one of the leading hotels in the world?

Villa Rockstar has everything you could ever need and just as many things you don’t. The six-bedroom villa’s secluded location lies behind 10-foot walls on St. Jean’s beach. One of the many oversized bathrooms is circular and tiled in (wait for it) white gold. Rockstar has a dedicated chef and butler service around the clock, a 20-meter heated pool, and a jacuzzi. According to the website, Villa Rockstar also has a ‘basement full of surprises.’

PC: Eden Rock

Other amenities include daily breakfast delivery, a fully-equipped techno-gym, a multi-car-filled garage, a private business office, and a custom-designed Italian kitchen. While I don’t know who is driving, cooking, working, or exercising when they visit Villa Rockstar, I would trade it all for breakfast delivery. The brioche at Eden Rock is no joke.

The website also ensures guests that ‘privacy and discretion’ are Villa Rockstar’s watch words. Is that the same thing as safe words? Safe words aren’t just for the bedroom anymore. Does this have anything to do with the surprises in the basement? Grab eleven of your closest friends and party like a rockstar at Villa Rockstar. When you discover what’s hidden in the basement, please share.

Villa Neo and Eden Rock’s 148 Other Villas

Villa Rockstar notwithstanding, Eden Rock has private villas across the island for (nearly) all budgets. Eden Rock conveniently divides its villa portfolio among four categories: Classic, Deluxe, Prestige, and Ultraluxe. If you think classic is code for inexpensive, you’d be incorrect. Nothing is inexpensive on St. Barths. Instead, think of classic as code for least expensive. And even then, prepare for sticker shock.

Neo is a six-bedroom supermodern ultraluxe villa. It has glass staircases, glass walls, and glass sculptures. The pool spans the length of the villa and towers high above St. Jean’s beach. Neo’s outside space is sprawling with double-bed sunloungers and wide umbrellas.

Some bathrooms have deep soaking tubs (alas, none tiled in white gold) and spacious balconies. The kitchen is not ornamental. Our chef, Eric, whips up fabulous French meals there every day. That we’re spoiled is evident.

Breakfast is a daily delight—and more decadent with each passing morning. Airy crépes on Monday, Belgian waffles with berries on Tuesday, fluffy frittatas on Wednesday… you get the idea. That every meal Eric creates comes with baguettes, brioches, and croissants does nothing to help our waistlines. We waddle to the Eden Rock boutique to buy bigger kaftans.

After a week of fantastic in-villa meals, Eric tells us he’s never seen a group consume so much bread. We pat our bellies proudly and take it as a compliment—though I’m pretty sure it isn’t.

Dining Beyond the Bubble

With all the French carbohydrates one could desire, you may question why we’d ever leave the ~~bubble~~ villa. St. Barths has a world-class dining scene, which always includes incredible people-watching in chic settings with DJs and live music. So get out, we do, and it’s worth it.

Three standout meals are Sella, Bagatelle, and Nikki Beach. Each restaurant incorporates a party element to accompany the food and wine. At Sella, Jerusalem-born, Michelin-starred chef Assaf Granit serves Middle Eastern cuisine in an amber-infused, low-lit waterfront setting. The DJ’s hypnotic Arabic music fuses intricate melodies and rhythmic patterns with charred meats and vegetables. We all love it.

Bagatelle starts typically enough—with a convivial dinner party vibe. But by the time the appetizers arrived, the DJ had ratcheted up the music so loud that I couldn’t hear my husband. As the entrées appeared, guests and servers started dancing.

Then, models began weaving around the dancers in cute boho dresses. Champagne corks spiral through the air. John Legend is singing Happy Birthday. Bagatelle is not a restaurant; it’s a bar mitzvah.

Just Another Sunday at Nikki Beach

Nikki Beach deserves a post of its own. And maybe one day, when strapped for content, I’ll write it. Until then, believe me when I say a trip to St. Barths without Sunday brunch at Nikki Beach is a big mistake.

Sundays at Nikki Beach are legendary in St. Barths. It’s a Caribbean darty (to use my least favorite word but most favorite concept). The great thing about a daytime party is that you can have fun whether you are 8, 18, or 88. And at Nikki Beach, ‘fun’ could mean a sparkler-topped bottle of Veuve Clicquot, a hot French saxophonist dancing on your table, or a gladiator towing a sorority girl around on a chariot. On our Sunday, fun included all of the above.

Colorful sushi boats filled with seared ahi tuna, red caviar-topped salmon, and pink ebi sail around the room. As the music tempo increases, the crowd rises to the occasion (literally and figuratively). People kick off their shoes and dance like no one is watching. Although, of course, everyone is. We order a bottle of Dom and go for it. Nikki Beach is the place to splurge on the most splurge-worthy island in the Caribbean.

“Are You Ready?”

I think back to Fred’s cheeky grin seven days ago. I’m sure he knew we’d need a vacation to recover from our vacation. I’m sure he knew we’d have baguette withdrawal, suffer from severe sleep deficit, and have hearing loss in one, if not both, ears. After so many years tending to guests’ needs in the Eden Rock bubble, he’s seen it all. No wonder he was smiling.

At the airport, newly arriving guests exit as I enter the frosted glass doors. Salt-tinged air warms their faces. I take one last glance behind me. I see signature Eden Rock red shirts and bottles of ice-cold Chablis. Glasses clink. Laughter fills the air. A rainbow assortment of Minis and Mokes whizzes by on the street.

In St. Barth’s, the party never ends.

Click Here for my Free St. Barths Hot Sheet

April 5, 2024
5 Travel Wish List Destinations That Will Inspire

I am Lost and Found’s original tagline was ‘Luxury Travel.’ Over the years my travel tastes evolved and ‘luxury travel’ felt limiting. Plus, I wasn’t only traveling to luxury hotels anymore. So I changed it to ‘Adventure and Luxury Travel.’ Eventually, even that felt limiting. I thought about the goals of my site. I am Lost and Found inspires travel—so ‘Inspiring Travel’ it is. Ready for inspiration? Follow along for five travel wish list destinations I’m dreaming about right now.

It’s another sticky, steamy day in DC. I should be doing something productive. Instead, I’m at my local coffee shop sipping an iced latte and daydreaming about future travels. I spin the globe in my mind. Green continents and blue oceans swirl together like a Van Gogh immersion experience. It takes my attention away from today’s news where most of the world is covered in a sheath of orange and red.

I pause over Norway—an appealing place right now for obvious reasons. Breathing crisp, cool, Arctic air sounds blissful. I take another sip of coffee and add it to my travel wish list, suddenly energized to write.

I keep spinning the globe. The next few hours unfold easily.

Join me as I waste time. Time that could be spent figuring out the dinner my kids will complain about least or watching the next intestine-twisting episode of The Bear. Read along for the next installment of my top five travel wish list destinations. Lord knows my husband will regret he didn’t join me this morning. This post is going to cost him.

Travel Wish List: 5 / Manshausen Island, Norway

A telling indicator a place belongs on my travel wish list is when I can’t contain my emotions after discovering it. Those times I frantically fire off picturesque screen grabs to my husband, Daniel, and impatiently wait for a thumbs-up emoji—eager to book it before he can blink. This is exactly how I feel when I look at Manshausen Island’s website. Obsessed.

Manshausen’s seven modern sea cabins and two sea towers hover over the water. Glass windows take full advantage of the spectacular views. It’s easy to see why the sea cabins have won so many design awards. They’ve adopted a ‘compact living’ mentality, focusing on comfort and ‘calm minimalism’. I’ve never heard of calm minimalism but I’d love to book a one-way ticket there and never look back.

Where is Manshausen Island?

Manshausen is a 55-acre island off the coast of northern Norway, across the fjord of the Lofoten Islands. In the late 1600s, Manhausen was a trading post. Today, it’s owned by famous polar explorer, writer, and photographer, Børge Ousland who turned Manshausen into one of the world’s best-kept secret adventure destinations.

I deep dive into Børge Ousland’s Wikipedia page. Ousland began his career as a Norwegian Special Forces Officer. In 1994, he made the first unsupported trek to the North Pole from Russia’s Arctic Cape. Then, as if that wasn’t bad-ass enough, in 1996 Børge Ousland was the first person to cross Antarctica solo. That he did it unsupported, on skis, and over 58 days makes my head spin like the globe I was daydreaming about earlier. Oh, and then he got married at the North Pole in 2012. Ok, Børge, simmer.

What to do on Manshausen Island?

Some activities on Manshausen Island abide by the seasons while others are enjoyed year-round. Sea kayaking, fishing, trekking, mountain climbing, traversing, cave touring, and eagle spotting are just a few of the Nordic adventures on hand. Add on wellness and culinary programs that touch upon all of the senses and it’s pretty clear why this island north of the Arctic Circle is so captivating.

Børge Ousland notwithstanding, visitors don’t need to be polar explorers or Special Ops to fall for Manshausen. Coastal museums, fortresses, fishing villages, and the original 1690 trading post are travel-worthy attractions nearby. Personally, I’d be content sitting at my panoramic sea cabin window with a cozy blanket, the latest Ann Patchett novel, and a glass of wine.

USP (Unique Selling Point) #1: The Northern Lights in the winter or the midnight sun in the summer? How to choose when to visit this Arctic escape from reality? Manshausen Island will just have to count as two travel wish list destinations. Do I see another thumbs-up, Daniel?

USP #2: Børge Ousland.

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Travel Wish List: 4 / Katmai National Park, Alaska

I count eight brown bears wading in the current. I see two bear cubs lumbering over slick boulders, pawing one another like feisty toddlers. A gull swoops overhead catching the attention of mama bear, who is competing with another bear for a fishing spot. The gulls’ caws, the gurgling river, and the steady gush of waterfalls are the only discernable sounds.

I’m not at Katmai National Park, but oh how I wish I was. Instead, I’m one of 2393 wildlife ~~geeks~~ enthusiasts simultaneously viewing Alaskan brown bears on the Brooks Falls bear cam. I’ve been watching them for longer than you’d imagine possible and have even started giving names to my faves.

Where is Katmai National Park?

Located on the Alaskan peninsula across from Kodiak Island, Katmai National Park and Preserve is 300 miles south of Anchorage. Katmai was designated a national monument in 1918 in order to protect it after a volcanic eruption in 1912. The area, 18 volcanoes strong (seven active), is also known as the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes. Whoever’s in charge of Katmai’s branding deserves a raise. I’d visit based on the name of that valley alone.

What to do at Katmai National Park?

The bears are the main attraction in this incredibly remote and untamed part of the American wilderness. That’s why I want to go. I want a front-row seat to see Yogi, Baloo, and Teddy catch sockeye salmon in real-time. The grainy webcam footage, while highly addictive, just isn’t cutting it.

Katmai is one of the top ten least visited national parks in the United States with just under 25,000 tourists last year. Compare that to Yellowstone’s 3 million and I’ve easily uncovered another great reason to visit.

The park is home to more than 2000 Alaskan brown bears. Grizzlies are the smaller species of brown bears and live further inland. If bears aren’t your thing, feel free to move on to my next travel wish list entry. But, if bears aren’t your thing, we should reconsider our friendship. Just kidding, I have lots of friends who don’t like bears.

Flightseeing, boating, catch-and-release fishing, backcountry hiking, and camping make Katmai National Park a haven for adventure seekers. There aren’t enough luxury hotel products on Earth to get me to camp in the backcountry though. That’s where the grizzlies are! My adventure mindset has limits.

USP: Grizzly bears, Alaskan brown bears, bear cubs, bears catching sockeye salmon, bears swimming, bears frolicking beneath waterfalls, Yogi, Baloo, and Teddy…

Travel Wish List: 3 / Wildflower Farms, New York

Built in 2022, Wildflower Farms is a modern ode to the Hudson Valley. Its tranquil and serene landscape seems to have sprouted up like the wildflowers for which it is named. An all-season boutique property, Wildflower Farms has an epicurean program that celebrates the region and a wellness program that celebrates healthy living. It’s clear there is much to celebrate at Wildflower Farms.

Where is Wildflower Farms?

Those who hail from the East Coast will have likely heard of the Hudson Valley. Just 90 miles north of New York City, the Hudson Valley is so renowned for natural beauty, it inspired an artistic movement. In the 19th century, the Hudson River School was founded by Thomas Cole and other landscape artists who were influenced by Romanticism.

The Hudson River School’s realistic paintings depict a pastoral world where humans and nature coexist in harmony. A romantic notion indeed! With 65 free-standing cabins and cottages set on 140 secluded acres, Wildflower Farms, an Auberge property, artfully continues the movement’s philosophy of awe and wonder.

What to do at Wildflower Farms?

The valley’s Hudson School may have been heavily influenced by romance but Wildflower Farms appeals to both couples and families alike. There are so many activities I want to take part in I’m considering asking if I can be a summer intern. Fall intern? Carrot peeler?

I can tell that a weekend at Wildflower Farms won’t be enough time for me to express my inner artist. Do I take a class in Botanical Mixology or Botanical Baking? Should I make pressed flower pottery or bake floral focaccia?

How do I choose the best ways to activate my sporty side (yes, Daniel, I have a sporty side)? Do I fly fish or forage, e-bike, or wine taste? Wine tasting is a sport, right? I scan the wellness menu. What if I can’t fit in Mountain Mat Pilates or a Sound Bath? Champagne problems at Wildflower Farms abound.

USP: Ridge Suites have views of the Shawangunk Mountain Range interrupted only by fields of wildflowers. We can either climb the rugged Shawangunks, admire them from the suite’s floor-to-ceiling windows, or grab a brush and start painting. Given enough time, I would happily do all three.

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Travel Wish List: 2 / ULUM Moab, Utah

Some of our favorite vacations have been to national parks located in desert locations: Joshua Tree, Canyonlands, and Arches, among them. We’ve stayed at AirBNBs, rustic lodges, and super swanky hotels. But glamping at ULUM Moab is a class of accommodation all its own.

For anyone not familiar with glamping, it means ‘glamourous camping’, a term open to wide interpretation. I’ve glamped in places that were a far cry from the ‘glamour’ advertised. ULUM Moab appears to have found the sweet spot for adventure and luxury to coexist.

Its 50 safari-styled tent suites have private viewing decks. There are three dipping pools, a yoga deck, and modern common spaces that embrace indoor/outdoor life. Add in Parachute Linens, Aesop products, and bespoke Pendleton wool blankets, and this glamping destination offers better amenities than most traditional hotels.

Where is ULUM Moab?

Located 25 miles south of Moab and within reach of multiple national and state parks, ULUM Moab is a secluded desert paradise. The camp is set on 200 acres of red rock formations and mesas and is just steps from Looking Glass Arch. ULUM Moab is the ultimate introduction to the beauty of the American Southwest.

What to do at ULUM Moab?

On-site activities at ULUM Moab range from relaxing guided nature walks, sound bath meditations, yoga, and stargazing. Your Adventure Concierge (yes, that’s a thing) will help curate off-site excursions like white-water river rafting, kayaking, paddleboarding, National Park tours, and canyoneering. If you haven’t canyoneered, you haven’t lived. It’s one of the funnest activities of all time (and yes, I’m aware funnest isn’t a real word).

At night, as you prepare to stargaze, sit by the bonfire and make polite chit-chat with other like-minded adventurers. Swap stories about the slot canyons you discovered while canyoneering or how you snored through the sound bath. Then grab your Pendleton blanket, a bottle of wine, and settle into the dark skies and constellations above.

USP: With 360 mountain views by day and starry skies by night, ULUM Moab has perfected glamping—the ultimate way to get comfortable in nature.

Travel Wish List: 1 / Dolomites, Italy

The last time my insides physically ached from witnessing natural beauty was a few summers ago in Jackson, Wyoming. The Tetons were so striking, so unbelievably scenic in their razor-cut jaggedness, that I was compelled to photograph them for hours each day. By day three, my husband wanted to feed me to the bears. If the Italian Dolomites are making my insides ache just from my Instagram feed, I can’t imagine what would happen if I saw them in real life.

Where are the Dolomites?

The Dolomites are a mountain range in northeastern Italy. They are sometimes referred to as the ‘Pale Mountains’ due to the carbonate minerals in the rocks. In 2009, they were officially named a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The Dolomites have been around for millennia. Why it took so long for UNESCO to recognize them is a mystery.

The Dolomites boast some of the most unique and beautiful hotels in the world. Many of them have won awards for design and architecture. The hotels are so swoon-worthy, I wouldn’t know how to choose one without having FOMO about the others.

What to do in the Dolomites?

While renowned for winter skiing, there is much to do in the Dolomites in the summer months, too. This mesmerizing mountain range is the center of the region’s universe. It’s where the luckiest hotels face and the point from which many adventure activities revolve.

Some of the hotels in the Dolomites defy gravity, like the ultra-modern Alpin Panorama Hotel Hubertus. Others, like Forestis, have mountain-facing private pools that make it impossible to leave the room. Aman’s Rosa Alpina (soon to reopen) embraces traditional alpine architecture and has a restaurant with three Michelin stars.

Climbing, hiking, waterfall chasing, rafting, and mountain biking will appease those with an adventurous spirit. Wellness retreats, spas, and woodland walks will satisfy those looking to reset and recharge.

USP: With over 20 Michelin-starred restaurants in the region, the Dolomites are a wish list destination for foodies, too.

Wasting Time

It’s hot in DC, and just about everywhere else in the world right now. I’m sure the oppressive heat has much to do with how these travel wish list destinations came about. Fresh, crisp, mountain air, fields of wildflowers, calm desert-scapes, and bear-filled streams are all pretty enticing right now.

I imagine myself sitting here next January—cupping my latte, complaining about the cold, and daydreaming about warmer climes. I’ll once again spin the globe in my mind, excited to see where I land, and ready to write another batch of travel wish list destinations.

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Author’s Note: I am grateful to the hotels who kindly gave me high-res photos for use in this post. I’m also using Unsplash for the first time, and praise the photographers who are giving away their gorgeous photos for free. Typically, I only feature my own photos. But alas, if I had my own pictures of these wish list destinations, they wouldn’t be on my wish list.

July 30, 2023
How To Experience the Low Country at Palmetto Bluff

Montage Palmetto Bluff is a well-preserved river town, complete with Low Country marshlands, a bird sanctuary, and centuries-old live oaks on the May River in South Carolina. Striking the right blend of highly-curated activities, creative dining options, and varied accommodations, Palmetto Bluff has everything it takes to experience a little Low Country living.

Not long ago, I read an article that sought to quantify the value of ‘things’ versus ‘experiences.’ The writer argued that happiness associated with things (jewelry, cars, electronics) is relatively short-lived compared to experiences (trips, dinners, outdoor adventures), where happiness lasts far longer.

Interestingly, it didn’t matter whether the experience itself was considered ‘good’ or ‘bad’. For instance, let’s say it rained the entire week we spent in Thailand (true). Or, maybe I accidentally booked a hotel in the wrong town on the Amalfi Coast (also true). The memories attached to those experiences are thought to give longer-lasting joy and make for funnier, more engaging stories. True. True. In other words, the laughter lives on.

Family planning with Palmetto Bluff

If there was ever a time to make new memories, that time is now. Some of us have young kids at home, remote learning. Some of us have our college students home for the near future. Perhaps this is an opportunity to capitalize on a weird historical moment and add a few adventures to the family books.

Last October, my family visited Palmetto Bluff in South Carolina. My husband, my kids, my parents (all four of them), my sister, her husband, and their kids. It was our first time in the Low Country. I didn’t fully grasp the importance of our reunion at the time. Those memories are even more poignant, as we haven’t been together since.

The time to start planning future family gatherings is right now. Hotels and airlines are more forgiving with change fees and cancellation policies. Wheels are in motion to make travel safer in the pandemic climate. Wheels are in actual motion across the country, as road trips have become the most popular method of transport. Travel wants us back. Our extended families miss us. Let’s go.

What is the Low Country?

I’m from the northeast. I know mountain life. I know lake life and city life. What I don’t know is Southern life. What does Low Country even mean, I wondered? I headed to Merriam-Webster. Low Country is ‘the low-lying region along the Atlantic coasts of South Carolina and Georgia.’ A bit dry, Mr. Merriam, but informative.

I googled deeper—all the way to page two—the ‘Google graveyard.’ From a cultural perspective, Low Country combines the influences of Southern, Native American, European, Caribbean, and African roots. It is known for its sub-tropical climate, which produces intricate marshlands thick with native birds and reptiles. Now, this was starting to sound more interesting.

Palmetto Bluff fills a Tall Order

Finding a scenic, conveniently located destination accommodating a large group aged 11 to 77 was no easy feat. We were searching for a place with multiple dining choices and a variety of cuisines to please the wide-ranging tastebuds of our crew.

It needed to be on the East Coast and have mild enough weather in mid-October to maximize time outdoors. We wanted a place that offered activities to suit all fitness levels.

Finally, it needed to be self-contained so we could have the freedom to explore yet still feel together. A tall order, indeed. As we soon discovered, it was nothing that Palmetto Bluff couldn’t handle.

Click here for my Wish List Destination Hot Sheet—it’s Free

Cue Palmetto Bluff

Palmetto Bluff is extraordinarily beautiful, in a way that is somewhat unreal and weirdly perfect. Like, The Truman Show, type of perfect. The landscape is nature-filled, inundated with various flora and fauna, including massive live oaks.

These ancient oaks drip with silvery gray beards of Spanish moss that glisten with the morning dew. Later in the afternoon, the elongated shadows from the descending sun added to the utter majesty of the trees.

At times, it seemed as if a ringmaster was shouting orders from behind closed doors. ‘Cue the alligator!’ ‘Now, the egrets!’ Ducklings, start waddling!’ Where exactly was he hiding?

The character of the Low Country was constantly seen, felt, tasted, and heard at Palmetto Bluff. Over five leisurely days, my family settled into a lulling sensory download—slow, Low Country life.

Palmetto Bluff’s Village Home 33

Montage Palmetto Bluff has 200 rooms and 35 private residences, which vary in size and style, ranging from traditional hotel rooms and one-bedroom river cottages to three, four, and five-bedroom village homes.

Our family took over a Victorian-inspired, five-bedroom, elegantly-appointed home. Village Home 33 overlooked one of the many low-arching bridges that unite and define the property. Renting a home versus individual rooms allowed our family to have space to be together and space to be apart. Village Home 33 became our family’s home base, with many common areas inside and out.

Meticulously kept gardens led to the entrance, flanked by two welcoming front porches. A swinging outdoor daybed with pillows in patriotic colors beckoned. I immediately knew that I was going to have trouble leaving the porch.

The house’s style was quasi-traditional, Restoration Hardware meets Southern Living Magazine. It had a modern, open-plan kitchen, multiple dining areas, a living room filled with books and games, and a 50-inch flat-screen television.

The master bath felt spa-like, with layers of natural colors, intricately designed, tiled walls, and a deep, soaking tub. No creature comfort was spared.

Location rules

They say location is everything. Village Home 33 was within walking distance of the property’s River House, where an intimate yet lively bar awaited. Here, too, was the destination for nightly s’mores. Two oversized stone fire pits crackled with fire just as the sun disappeared from view. Nearby, a rolling cart was heaped with various flavored marshmallows and milk chocolate bars. An indulgence for any age, indeed.

The home was also close to the Canoe Club, a thoughtfully created dining space with a clubby, warm, low-lit atmosphere.

Buffalo’s, also nearby, was the scene of our hearty Sunday brunch, southern biscuits and all.

Cole’s, a restaurant set in neighboring Moreland Village, overlooked the tranquil marshlands. A fun, casual dining space, its unique selling point was its state-of-the-art bowling alley. We spent a few post-dinner hours attempting strikes and spares with the kids. The sounds of pins getting knocked down and re-racked brought me back to my teenage years.

Worth noting—the house or room number is the way to pay for everything at Palmetto Bluff. Yes, everything. It is the local currency. This includes the stores in the village, the restaurants, the markets, and all activities. We discovered that the kids having access to that tidbit of information proved costly upon checkout.

Click here for my Wish List Destination Hot Sheet—it’s Free

What’s next at Palmetto Bluff?

Fire-engine red kayaks were waiting to be launched at the docks behind the perfectly constructed village. The tranquil, interconnected inlets and ponds weaved their way around Palmetto Bluff, allowing us to see various birds, pass underneath low-slung bridges, and look for sunbathing alligators on the grassy banks.

Great Blue Herons swooped surprisingly close overhead, trying to catch fish that occasionally jumped from the water. It was one of the many vantage points from which to explore Palmetto Bluff and my personal favorite. A close second was by bike, which was available to rent upon arrival. We kept our group of twelve bikes in the driveway for our stay—a family peloton.

As if daring us to be bored, Palmetto Bluff offered more activities and adventures than we could experience in five days. Little did Palmetto Bluff know that boredom was a welcome treat for me. However, Palmetto Bluff was a playground waiting to be explored and conquered for the kids.

My stepdad played pickleball against every grandchild. One morning, we scoured the marshlands by boat. Later, the kids went tubing at breakneck speed on the placid water, their high-pitched squeals trailing behind them.

On another day, our crew tried our luck at clay pigeon shooting, an activity that captured the imagination of the 11-year-old and the 77-year-old alike.

We were hard-pressed to find downtime between the adult pool, the kid’s pool, the s’mores pits, the treehouses, tennis, bowling, and archery. Yet, we did, in the form of reading on the porch or cocktails at the nearby River House. Taking long walks through the village lanes and along the piers that jutted out over the May River. We found time. Or, maybe time found us.

Sounds of simpler times

It was a trip that harkened back to simpler times. I certainly couldn’t have been fully aware then that this trip would provide memories for me to pull out of my mind’s archives when I needed a lift in mood. The homespun village undertones were sewn into the landscape of Palmetto Bluff.

I remember us poking fun at the low snore of my stepfather as he dozed on the porch each afternoon. And I can still hear the banter of siblings and cousins as they created TikToks in the living room. I listened to the sounds of my son and nephew peeling down the street on their bikes.

I heard laughter from the kitchen, the pop of a wine cork, and the telltale pings and pongs of a backyard tournament. When added up, all of these unremarkable sounds told a much more remarkable story.

They were the sounds of memories being made, and it was novel to listen to them without life’s usual distractions.

And that is how you experience the Low Country, y’all.

Ready to head to the Lowcountry? Check For Availability Here!

Note: I may receive a small fee for any affiliate links above, but rest assured, I only highlight places I recommend from personal experience.

February 8, 2023

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