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Tag: Walking

Searching for the peaceful life, at Amanzoe, Greece

Google Amanzoe. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

With 156,000 search results, Amanzoe is hardly a well-kept secret. What can I say or write that hasn’t already been said or written about this palatial property? How can I uncover beauty not instantly available by scrolling postage stamp-sized squares on the phone? Or, found in a quick Google search?

Let me give it a try. But perhaps first, a few things you will find in a quick Google search of Amanzoe, because essentials are still important, naturally.

Amanzoe, Greece: The Facts

Where is Amanzoe?

Amanzoe sits on the Peloponnese Peninsula, which is on the southern coast of the Greek mainland. It’s about a 2.5-hour drive from Athens and overlooks the Argolic Gulf and the Saronic Islands.

How do you get to Amanzoe?

There are three ways to get from Athens to Amanzoe: helicopter, Aman private car, and rental car. As you might imagine, this list is not only ordered from most to least expensive but from shortest to longest travel time.

How many rooms does Amanzoe have?

Amanzoe has 38 unique accommodations. A combination of one-bedroom pavilions, beach cabanas, and villas. The villas range in size from one bedroom to nine.

Nine-bedroom Villa 20 is the stuff of Aman legend. It has six swimming pools, multiple dining areas, four kitchens, and a Greek Taverna barbecue. Villa 20 also has a private spa, a private gym, sculpture gardens, and 360-degree panoramic sea views. Did I mention it is spread over a whopping six levels on four acres?

Oh, and a staff of 18.

Villa 20—an Aman within an Aman. How meta.

Amanzoe Facts aside

Six days isn’t enough time to become an expert on Amanzoe, or on anything, for that matter. Nonetheless, six days was enough time to learn a few noteworthy aspects of the property. As well as the people who keep it running seamlessly. Not to mention the Argolis peninsula, which is ever so gracefully situated between the Saronic and Argolic Gulfs.

Amanzoe, First impressions count

We arrived at Amanzoe at 4pm, after three flights, two layovers, and a scenic 30-minute helicopter ride. Any signs of fatigue evaporated the moment we walked through the monumental entrance. Greek in design, glossy, and white. The scent of jasmine filled the air. I turned my head left and noticed the tell-tale, star-shaped flowers, en masse.

Looking ahead, a wide, elongated reflecting pool drew my eye toward the centerpiece of Amanzoe. An enormous circular marble platform hovered above the Aegean Sea. When I use the term jaw-dropping, it is not metaphorically.

Olive trees with their chalky green leaves, and age-revealing gnarled trunks, dot the Amanzoe property. Some, are crooked and wrinkled (the elders), others skinny and lanky, (the teenagers), and all the life stages in between.

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Amanzoe, Sunset commentary

In May, the sun starts to set well after 8pm. That gave us plenty of time to settle into our villa and return to the platform for cocktails. Later, we would witness the nightly ritual of ‘sunset commentary’.

We overheard guests compare the sky to the one of the previous night—were the streaks more tangerine or pumpkin-colored? Those purples, would you say plum or eggplant?

I wondered if the staff ever tired of the setting sun, or the running commentary. I imagine they don’t since each night was similar in terms of sheer beauty but quite different in the details.

The shifting rays made the marble glow and forced deep shadows from the olive trees. Mother Nature must live here, I thought.

To add an unnecessary, yet ethereal touch of theater to the scene, a fire table was ignited each evening. A gesture of solidarity with the sun’s disappearance.

Amanzoe, Greece: Questions, Answered

Paul Linder is the master of ceremonies (aka General Manager) at Amanzoe, Greece. He floats breezily among the guests, speaking en français to the French, and en español to the Spanish. All the while looking like he stepped out of Italian Vogue. And ever-smiling—Paul is in his element.

“What don’t people know about Amanzoe?” I asked, “because it seems as if it’s all been said.” Paul paused. Then he told me that the area where Amanzoe resides, Porto Heli, is considered “the Hamptons of Greece”. That, I didn’t know.

Kings, former kings, celebrities, former celebrities, shipping, and business tycoons come here to not be seen. The entire peninsula has a distinguished air of privacy. Their mega-villas dot the landscape. And their bespoke super-yachts peek out from secluded coves and pop from the sapphire blue waters.

Paul went on to speak of the architectural elements that make up Amanzoe itself: stone, glass, marble, and wood. He spoke of the natural elements, the flora, and fauna, all native to Greece.

Each olive tree at Amanzoe had been artfully placed or replaced—some of which are up to 600 years old. Ed Tuttle, the creative genius behind Amanzoe, as well as over 30 other Aman properties, sadly died last year. But his work lives on, and what an awe-inspiring body of work it is.

If you build it

The palette of the Peloponnese Peninsula, and Amanzoe, is subtle shades of yellow, green, and purple. Wispy grasses, Mediterranean herbs, and slender emerald-colored cypress trees thrive. Bursts of fuchsia breakthrough in the form of a single flower. Or, a cluster of berries and a wave of bougainvillea. Lavender abounds.

Perhaps, the most interesting thing Paul remarked upon, was how the setting of Amanzoe was purposely built and designed. The grandiose main pavilion was created to represent the Acropolis. The villas below symbolize the city of Athens. How clever.

An intentional nod to ancient times. Amanzoe even replicated the famous theatre from nearby Epidaurus (in miniature, thankfully) on the property. Guests can reserve the amphitheater in advance, and dine privately among a hundred ambient lanterns. Mr. Tuttle, I stand in awe.

This intriguing mini-city design is certainly one way that Amanzoe stands out among its peers. Which prevents it from ever feeling crowded, even at capacity. If I had Villa 20, I would never leave it. In fact, I doubt I could even find my way out.

Amanzoe’s Villa 31

Villa 31 has the distinction of being the only one-bedroom villa at Amanzoe. There are many freestanding one-bedroom pavilions. However, Villa 31 is one-of-a-kind, perched on the far western tip of the property. It quietly overlooks the untamed landscape and the Aegean Sea.

Towards late afternoon, the mountains across the gulf start to lose detail and their sharp edges. The layers of blue melt into one another, creating a panoramic watercolor.

Mediterranean gardens surround the villa and the 25-meter infinity-edged pool. Bees feast on lavender. Amanzoe’s Villa 31 is made of stone and possesses a rustic, farmhouse feeling, unlike the other villas.

The interior is as serene and inviting as the exterior. Nearly every window and door open to the pool and sea.

A shaded terrace with cushy seating and a small reflecting pool form a separate structure from the villa. This is where our inventive chef, Stelios, created our in-villa meals.

Irina, our lovely dedicated host, helped organize everything from bicycles and golf carts to picnics, and afternoon cocktails. The staff is so warm, knowledgeable, and friendly. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t come home with a few new people to follow on Instagram.

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Plain Sky, at Amanzoe

The most unusual aspect of Villa 31 is its immersive art installation created by the acclaimed artist, James Turrell. The only one of Turrell’s permanent works found in the Mediterranean.

“Sky Plain” is a subterranean room accessed by a hidden staircase on the side of the villa. The perimeter of the 20 x 20-foot space is lined with built-in cushioned benches. The walls and floor are comprised of streaky, glossy black marble.

A square opening, in what looks like a paper-thin ceiling, appears cut with a razor. It established a one-dimensional color-blocking effect as we looked toward the sky. This flattened effect, we were soon to discover, was an essential component of the display.

In the span of about twenty minutes, colored lights in the room slowly changed, and so seemingly did the sky. It was an illusion. The sky was not gray, green, or dark blue.

In fact, it was sunset. (Or sunrise, which is the two times of day the exhibit is displayed.) The sky was pure cerulean blue. Believe me, we checked.

Only guests of Villa 31 have access to Mr. Turrell’s perception-defying installation, which made us feel like total Amanzoe VIPs.

Daytrippin’ from Amanzoe

One of the many things Aman does extraordinarily well is excursions. Amanzoe has more ways to explore the Peloponnese than we had time. We chose carefully, knowing how hard it would be to leave the villa.

At 9am, we boarded the Amanzoe One, a Wally powerboat, with a bottle of wine and a picnic lunch.

We sped past the islands of Spetses and Dokos on our way to Hydra. Hydra, we were told, is an island where time has stood still for over 200 years.

Hydra, Idra, Ydra

There are no motorized vehicles on Hydra (aside from the local ambulance). Horses, donkeys, and mules roam the streets as they had done in centuries past. They carry packaged goods, produce, and sometimes people, from the port into the town. Water taxis bob in the marina to take residents and tourists to the mainland.

Hydra isn’t only a picturesque town, with a central clock tower, and lemon and orange trees growing in abundance. It’s also an appealingly quiet one. The clip-clop of hooves was a welcome change from engines.

The slick stone steps led us high above the port, from where we could see daily life unfolding below. I got lost in a daydream of living on Hydra, with its simplicity, calm, and natural beauty.

Where wellness began

It can appear that ‘wellness’ is a new phenomenon, as it’s so trendy and newsworthy these days. The ancient town of Epidaurus, however, was at one time considered the healing and wellness center of the universe.

Sick people traveled by boat, and then walked for miles, to cure their ailments here as early as the 6th century B.C. As the fame of the region grew, so did its prosperity, which enabled an enormous stone amphitheater to be built.

When completed, it seated 14,000 people. To this day, while in partial ruins, even a lowered voice still carries to the uppermost rows. In fact, a yearly music festival returns to the stage each June. Mark your calendars.

Epidaurus also includes the ruins of a sanctuary, a hospital, temples, and a posh hotel. In 1988, it was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Since Greece had just re-opened its doors to tourism, we were nearly alone at this ancient spiritual site.

Lunch Detour

We took an alternate route back to Amanzoe via the enchanting seaport town of Nafplio. Nafplio is a popular weekend destination for Athenians, the authenticity of the old town was palpable. There we shared a traditional Greek lobster and pasta lunch. To say we overindulged is an understatement.

Tourism is the primary source of revenue in Nafplio. Yet, it didn’t feel overly touristy. I noticed how everyone seemed to know one another along the waterfront promenade of local restaurants. After a few hours of wandering, we headed back to the resort. We were eager to sit poolside and dream about our next meal.

Amanzoe’s 24-hour menu

Excellent food and wine are to be expected at Amanzoe. That again is nothing Google can’t tell you. No guest will go hungry between the two open-air Greek/Mediterranean restaurants, and Nama, the Japanese-inspired restaurant off the main pool.

Thankfully, we discovered the 24-hour menu on our first day. No, not the room service menu, but a list of special dishes that need extra preparation time. The choices were abundant, and I wished I had another week to try them all.

We opted for Lamb ‘Kleftiko’ the following evening. It was presented in a traditional rustic dutch oven overflowing with aromatic scents. Like, rosemary, cinnamon, honey, and lemon. The 12-hour slow-baked lamb fell off the bone and soaked up the juices below. Potatoes and cubes of melting ‘Kefalotyri’ cheese completed the dish. It was divine.

Our personable waiter, Adam, revealed the origin of ‘Kleftiko’, which means ‘stolen’. During the Greek revolution, the guerrillas, called Klephts, survived by stealing lamb or goats from the hillside. Who needs Google when you have Adam?

Amanzoe’s Sustainability Sidebar

The Aman brand has a strong commitment to sustainability, environmental protection, and local culture. As an example, the food at the resort was both seasonal, as well as ethically-sourced.

Wine, From the Fire

The ‘Greek Hellfires’ ravaged 670,000 acres of land in 2007. Thousands of fires scorched the hillsides, and many vineyards didn’t survive, including the Brintziki Vineyard outside of Olympia. However, almost miraculously, their grapes did. From those unscathed grapes, left to struggle in extreme conditions, came wine. They named it ‘Dia Pyros’—‘from the fire’.

There are only 2300 bottles of this celebrated wine, each bottle numbered and signed by the vintner and the oenologist. Our waiter offered us a glimpse of this rare vintage, paired with the story of its endurance.

Peaceful Life found, at Amanzoe

What’s left to know? What parting words can complete our extraordinary experience? Perhaps this—in Sanskrit, ‘Amanzoe’ means ‘peaceful life”, a fitting name if there ever was one. But, maybe you already knew that.

Go ahead, Google it. I’ll wait.

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May 30, 2021
Uganda, what to see beyond the famous silverback gorillas

What to see, where to stay, and what to do, in Uganda / The famous silverback gorillas are certainly what put Uganda on the map for tourism. And rightly so, as it is the only part of the world where one can see these peaceful, majestic primates. There are none in captivity, so in order to spend any time with them, one must be prepared to travel far. And travel far I did, for a fleeting two hours observing them that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Yes, two hours. Each gorilla permit afforded me exactly sixty minutes with the silverbacks. So, what is there to do with the other 23 hours of the day? A lot, it turns out. Uganda has much more to offer tourists than the mighty silverbacks.

But there is far more to see in Uganda beyond the silverback gorillas. There are traditional safaris to admire the famous climbing lions of Ishasha, for example. Or, sighting the elusive shoebill in the Mabamba Swamp. A boat ride to an island of rehabilitated chimpanzees in Lake Victoria.

What to do in Uganda: A Wild Frontiers Safari

Wild Frontiers was our tour operator, the frontrunner for gorilla tracking and safaris in Uganda. They helped us come up with a bespoke itinerary, secured our coveted gorilla tracking permits, and allowed for some flexibility on the ground. Flights, logistics, and accommodations were well organized and generally worked like clockwork. This is Africa, after all.

Our guides, lovely, warm-hearted locals, had studied for years to be able to tell the difference between the sound of a great blue turaco and a green-breasted pitta. Or, to be able to spot an African fish eagle from a kilometer away. They could drive for hours on end and still have the energy the next morning to prepare a pop-up omelet station on the plains.

We were in constant awe of the Ugandan guides and their wealth of knowledge about the wildlife, flora, and fauna, of their country.

What to see in Uganda: Equatorial Entebbe

Uganda is a landlocked country in eastern Africa. The small city of Entebbe, about 20 miles from the bustling capital of Kampala, is where Uganda’s only international airport resides. Entebbe sits on a peninsula on the northern shore of Uganda’s largest lake, Lake Victoria.

We crossed the lake, and directly through the equator, within three hours of arrival, on the way to visit the Ngamba Island Chimpanzee Sanctuary. The lake seemed angry, and our little boat was tossed around violently for nearly an hour. Spray came at us from every angle, the boat pounded the waves. My eyes remained firmly shut to keep nausea at bay. Uganda—unpredictable from the start.

What to see in Uganda: Hungry, howling chimps

We arrived at the sanctuary, bedraggled, and soaking wet, and set off to see the 49 orphaned chimpanzees who roam the 40-acre island. That’s in comparison to the single acre allotted to the humans who work there and rehabilitate them. The chimps come to the barrier four times a day for food, and then slowly slink back into the overgrowth until the next feeding.

Although the feeding ritual was exciting, we were glad we didn’t plan it after our gorilla tracking later that week, as it seemed a much more commercial endeavor. We were happy to see that the orphaned chimps were well cared for, in a safe environment, and had access to medical attention should they need it.

Where to stay in Uganda: Hotel No. 5

Our boutique hotel, called No. 5, was hidden in a local neighborhood less than a ten-minute drive from the airport. Here, I was to spend two nights before heading off on my own to Queen Elizabeth National Park. From there, I was to meet up with my friend at our lodging in the Bwindi Impenetrable National Park to start tracking the gorillas.

Each of the ten rooms at No. 5 faced a lush, intimate, courtyard, with overgrown tropical trees and plants. There was a charming pool set below the veranda where we would have meals and pre-dinner drinks while listening to the ongoing birdsong.

The rooms were modest, clean, and airy—the gauzy mosquito netting over the beds seemed more for show than necessity but did look quite pretty. Small balconies were a nice touch, a place to sit and listen to the hum of the surroundings. In the early morning, I heard the daily call to prayer as I drifted dreamily in and out of sleep.

Although the menus and meals were very nice at No. 5, they were surprisingly formal, a bit too heavy, and geared toward foreigners. This became a slightly disappointing theme at the various lodges we stayed at, and if I were to do it again, I would ask for more local Ugandan preparations as menu options.

What to see in Uganda: The Mabamba Swamp

While my friend worked for the few days we were in Entebbe, I took advantage of being alone with a guide and my camera. Wild Frontiers helped organize a boat trip through the wetlands of Mabamba. There, I spontaneously turned into a full-fledged bird geek. Don’t judge.

I saw statuesque egrets, metallic blue malachite kingfishers, and weightless African jacanas, to name a few aviary stand-outs.

The jacanas are often referred to as Jesus birds for the way they appear to walk on water. They have a uniquely evolved prenatal care system, and can often carry multiple babies under their wings at once. I was lucky enough to capture this maternal moment in real-time.

What to see in Uganda: The most famous bird you’ve never heard of

The prehistoric-looking shoebill, named for its big, clunky bill, is endangered, and numbers only twelve total across the entire 2500-hectare swamp.

Having never heard of the shoebill, I wasn’t too bothered about finding it, but as beginners luck would have it, we saw one within the first ten minutes of the four-hour boat ride. Even my guide was thrilled to see this elusive and reclusive specimen and reached for his own camera to capture it among the reedy, wetland grasses. I was told it is one of the top five most sought-after birds to spot in Africa. Bucket list bird: check.

The Prettiest, Ugly Bird

A few fun facts about a bird you also may have never heard of: shoebills can grow as tall as four or five feet when fully grown; they lay only two eggs, and after a year, kill the weaker one; they can remain motionless for extended periods of time stalking their prey. The idiom, ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ came to mind as I thought it was, perhaps, the prettiest, ugly bird I had ever seen.

What to do in Uganda: Get local

Instead of driving back to Entebbe from the wetlands, my guide suggested we take a car ferry across Lake Victoria. Flashbacks to yesterday’s tumultuous journey stirred in my mind, but in the name of adventure, I decided to go for it. Lake Victoria, thankfully, was much calmer, and I was able to cross with my internal organs completely intact.

On the way to the ferry, I caught glimpses of rural Ugandan life: little girls danced in open wooden doorframes flaked with colorful paint; women peeled green bananas for makote (cooked plantains), toddlers shaved sugar cane with pangas (machetes). Mopeds kicked up clouds of red dust along the unpaved roads. Vegetable stands, roaming goats, pigs on leashes, women with bushels of fruit on their heads—an evolving portrait of village life.

While waiting at the Nakiwogo ferry dock, I was swarmed by fresh-faced and bright-eyed Ugandan kids. We took a few selfies, and they laughed at seeing themselves on screen. Teens played soccer with empty soda cans, dogs chased their own tails, and mothers fed infants while chatting with friends. That time was a gift. Quietly, I observed the villagers and thought to myself how I’d forgotten how often the simplest things in life are the best.

Where to eat in Uganda: Two Friends

Local knowledge, as they say, trumps all, which is how we found Two Friends, a restaurant situated squarely on the banks of Lake Victoria. With a convivial, remote, rustic island vibe, dangling strings of twinkling tea lights, and a menu of freshly caught Lake Victorian fish, Two Friends was a hidden gem.

Our fish came baked in green banana leaves, served in tin foil, with all of the savory juices to mop up with the rice and veggies. The meal for three, (actually four, as we sent our idling taxi driver his meal, too) and a bottle of wine came to the economical total of $60 USD. It was one of the best meals of the trip, made most memorable by its laid-back and carefree atmosphere.

Solo travels

The next morning, I boarded a bush plane at Entebbe Airport and flew two hours to the Kihihi Airstrip located just outside of Queen Elizabeth National Park. Having never traveled solo before, I was both exhilarated and anxious. Moments after touching down, I met my guide Echy, and any fears I had dissipated. I was reminded of a Ted Talk by Ken Robinson, who advised, ‘Walk towards things that worry you.’ I started to walk.

The safari begins

On our first game drive, late that afternoon, Echy discovered a tree with a flock of gray-crowned cranes perched upon it. One by one, these magnificent birds flew effortlessly across the savannah, over the acacia and fig trees, and towards the descending sun.

Also known as the crested crane, it is the national bird of Uganda, and its likeness sits proudly on its flag. Due, in part, to poaching, it is now sadly on the endangered species list and numbers less than 20,000 in the country.

This majestic bird is distinguished by its head of rigid, golden feathers that look like the crown for which it is named. A large, fire-engine red throat pouch makes it especially easy to recognize.

Where to stay in Uganda: Ishasha Wilderness Camp

Remembering how much I had loved tent life while in Botswana a few years ago, I was excited to get to Ishasha Wilderness Camp, which is located inside Queen Elizabeth National Park, along the Ntungwe River.

The ten permanent canvas tents are rustic, yet have everything needed to enjoy wilderness life. Each tent had a wide, stone, porch with two chairs facing the lazy river.

The porch felt like a front-row IMAX theater seat for BBC’s Blue Planet. A few meandering and thirsty elephants drank from the river just a few hundred yards away. A troop of cheeky vervet monkeys ran circles around my tent, both skittish and curious at the same time, scooping up their rebellious babies in an all too human-like way.

The large, thatched-roof common area was ambient, and open-air, to the river. Here, even more, elephants came to share an afternoon sundowner with us.

It was also where we had our meals. Being solo, I was paired with another lone traveler named Matthew—a charming headmaster from Botswana and an avid birder. Matthew became my safari partner-in-exploration for the following two days.

‘You won’t believe what I saw!’

One of the best parts of being on safari is coming back to the lodge after a game drive to compare sightings and photos with other guests.

Our camp had a magnetic board so we could place markers where we had seen various wildlife each day. Depending upon who you were comparing notes with that evening, the stories sometimes became a game of oneupmanship.

What to see in Uganda: Ishasha

At Ishasha Wilderness Camp, as opposed to No. 5, the mosquito netting was less for show, and more out of need. Yet, as a point of comparison, I have been bitten by more mosquitos while walking my dogs in DC than in my entire ten days in Uganda.

As is typical at safari camps, I was not allowed to wander back to my tent unsupervised, as the animals roam freely. No argument here. But the loveliest sounds were at night when the animals were awake, and I was tucked warmly under the covers listening to the chorus of wildlife. It was truly a shame when I finally dozed off, as hard as I tried not to, leaving the animal world behind until the morning.

What to see in Uganda: Tree-Climbing lions

Queen Elizabeth National Park’s claim to fame is the tree-climbing lion. They are an unusual phenomenon, as lions are not adapted evolutionarily to scale trees, like leopards, for instance. Queen Elizabeth National Park is one of only two places in the world where these rare lions can be found, the other being southern Tanzania. It is widely thought that the reason for their climbing is to escape not only the pesky flies but the severe temperatures.

While lucky enough to spot a few of the beautiful lions, they simply refused to do any of their famed climbing. Content, we watched them lazing on the ground. The male lions of Ishasha are notably dark-maned, making them look even more magnificent and regal.

What to do in Uganda: Sundowner on the plains

There is nothing quite like sunset drinks on safari. After hours of being in a vehicle, bumping along dirt paths, it is a chance to embrace stillness and absorb the surrounding sounds. We spent an hour on the edge of a steep rift, overlooking the lush yellow and green valley below. Gin and tonic in hand, I was in my happy place.

In the distance, elephants roamed, their trunks raised to grab leaves from the trees. Kobs glistened, golden and glorious, in the light. The sun tightened its grip on the landscape, wringing out the last rays of light, and casting vivid colors across the valley.

As if on cue, the sun hovered behind a spindly tree, which created an eerie, stark silhouette against the blood-red sky.

Always expect the unexpected

Every game drive is unique, which is likely why guides never get bored with their jobs. The morning I was to leave Ishasha to meet my friend in Bwindi, was one of those unexpected experiences I should have expected.

The drive was two hours, including 45 minutes to exit the boundary of Queen Elizabeth National Park. Five minutes or so into our journey, Echy jerked the jeep to a screeching halt. I did a quick scan, there was nothing to see, no animals, no movement.

He reversed five yards, and off to the right of the jeep, camouflaged in the tall wispy grass, was a martial eagle sitting on the ground, completely still. Echy whispered to us that the eagle was strangling its prey.

We sat silently. The eagle’s intense, beady, yellow eyes pierced through us like daggers. He was certainly not going to give up his catch on our part. A few minutes later, he flew off to a nearby dead tree to keep watch and protect his kill.

A dead baby kob, (antelope), curled up in a fetal position, lay in his wake. The kob had likely been sleeping while its mom went out to find food, but was discovered by the hungry eagle. A sad, yet realistic portrait, of the animal kingdom. How Echy spotted the eagle while cruising along at 30 mph mystifies me to this day.

Final Notes

I was giddy from the sighting, my first ever real-time kill, so I didn’t notice Echy speaking to the driver of a passing jeep. The other driver mentioned seeing two hyenas out hunting but had unfortunately lost the trail.

Using what can only be described as ‘Spidey-sense’, Echy looked to the distant sky, saw vultures circling, and had a hunch. He threw the jeep into gear, and lo and behold, quickly found the two hyenas devouring their freshly caught prey—another poor kob.

The scene was spellbinding; the light, luminous, and the pond, seafoam blue. The kob was bloody and torn to shreds. We listened to the sound of bones being crushed by the hyena’s unyielding jaws. The vultures tried to close in but were steadily kept at bay. When the hyenas were finished, they knew all too well there would be nothing left.

There is a world of adventure beyond the silverbacks in Uganda. Thank you, Echy, for showing it to me.

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May 7, 2021
The Mighty Silverbacks of Uganda: How To Find Them

Last January, I received a text from a friend of a friend: ‘Happy New Year! Would you like to go gorilla tracking with me in Uganda?’ I stared at the screen for a nanosecond and wrote back, ‘Yes!’

A nanosecond later, I wrote, ‘Wait… what?’

So began nine months of planning that would eventually take us to see the indigenous Batwa Pygmies, through dusty local villages, over the golden savannah of Ishasha, into the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, and ultimately, to the magical moment of finding our first family of silverback mountain gorillas.

Sabotage

Even a few weeks before our trip, I still couldn’t believe that I was going to Uganda. Sabotage seemed to follow from the start. In March, the plane on which we were supposed to be flying, the Boeing MAX 737, was grounded after mechanical failures led it to crash.

In April, a solo female traveler and her guide were kidnapped in Queen Elizabeth National Park, held for ransom, then released. As if that weren’t enough, the tour operator connected to the unfortunate kidnapping issue was, you got it, the one we had hired.

Nevertheless, we remained on track, convinced that we would make it home with a few wild stories to tell. My husband started saving ransom money—just in case.

Finding the silverbacks

Nine months of planning had led up to these next few days, the inspiration and impetus for the trip—tracking the silverback gorillas. In the two-hour drive from Ishasha, (where I had spent the previous three nights) to Bwindi, the landscape shifted so dramatically that I could have been in an entirely different country.

The Bwindi Impenetrable National Park and its surroundings are a never-ending panorama of steep, rounded hillsides, interlocking and overlapping in muted shades of green. Dense foliage replaced the vast golden savannah of Ishasha. Clusters of trees and steep, verdant tea fields took the place of flat, open vistas.

A heavy mist enshrouded the landscape, and then suddenly the sun would break through. The rainforest did not disappoint.

Bwindi is accessible only by foot, and is home to nearly 400 silverback mountain gorillas over 124 square miles. It is protected and owned by the Uganda Wildlife Authority and is a World Heritage Site. An impressive resume, indeed.

Family vibes

Echy, my Ishasha guide, delivered me to Buhoma Lodge, which immediately felt like a home away from home. Not fancy or modern, it nailed the unassuming, homespun vibe I was hoping for during our few days of gorilla tracking. Buhoma Lodge and Sanctuary Gorilla Forest Camp are the only two lodges located within the park boundaries. My friend and I decided to spend two nights at each.

Four nights, two camps

Although Buhoma Lodge and Sanctuary Gorilla Forest Camp are right beside one another in proximity, they are quite different in many ways.

The rooms at Buhoma ratchet up a steep hillside and required an amount of stair climbing that I hadn’t encountered since the Eiffel Tower. The views of the rainforest from our balcony made the climb worthwhile, and my aching quads eventually forgave me. Good practice for the gorilla tracking ahead.

Gorilla Forest Camp

This differed greatly from GFC, whose eight tents are much lower to the ground, nestled, and virtually secluded in the foliage, and had a much more private, romantic feeling.

Buhoma Lodge

Buhoma’s effervescent staff acted like extended family, always with a warm smile and polite conversation. My favorite time of day was when everyone would come together after the day’s trek and swap stories like old friends.

GFC’s staff was a touch more formal and allowed the guests to mingle among themselves. The managers of both lodges were as lovely and warm as the rainforest air and made many daily appearances to catch up with us.

At both lodges, wine was ever-flowing. At Buhoma, hors d’oeuvres were passed and a hanging iron fire pit completed the convivial scene.

GFC had an inviting nightly bonfire surrounded by a circle of chairs where we would curl up with a blanket, and watch the flames with a glass of wine in hand. An occasional storm would pass by, thunder and lightning in the distance. I felt like we were as far off the beaten path as the world would allow.

Thoughtful touches appeared at both lodges; at Buhoma, a hot water bottle on the bed at night. At GFC, toasty electric blankets and a large soaking tub.

Each lodge had convenient charging stations in the common areas so that one would never be caught with a dead battery. GFC offered coffee, tea, and wine service in your tent, and Buhoma’s open-air areas were piled high with coffee table photo books about Ugandan wildlife.

Both/And When Searching for the Silverbacks

GFC was a more modern and upscale lodge, overall. The parent company, Sanctuary, is steeped in philanthropy all over Africa, and in Uganda especially. A few of their impressive philanthropic efforts include supporting the Bwindi Community Hospital (which we visited), The Ebenezer Nursery and Primary School, as well as the Bwindi Women Bicycle Enterprise.

In all of our lodges, we discovered the Ugandan effort to reduce plastic waste. We were encouraged to use reusable water bottles and had access to water stations to refill them.

While both lodges exceeded expectations, I’ll admit, that if I were to go back with friends, I would opt for the more rustic Buhoma Lodge due to its more relaxed vibe. Alternatively, GFC would be my choice if I wanted a more romantic atmosphere.

Ham, our all-knowing guide, and the Silverbacks

Our new guide was named Ham, who I immediately adored. Guiding since 1999, he had gentle, soulful eyes, and an understated demeanor. Ham was filled with local knowledge and stories from growing up in western Uganda. He told us that he didn’t get his first pair of shoes until he was twelve years old. I tucked that piece of info away in my head to pass on to my kids as soon as I got home.

The Silverbacks

The draw of this tiny patch of the globe, where Uganda, Rwanda, and The Democratic Republic of the Congo meet, is the endangered silverback mountain gorillas. There are none in captivity, and only about 1000 are left in the world, all found in this one remote spot. In order to see these noble animals, who, as an aside, share 98 percent of our DNA, I knew I had to be prepared to travel far, hike treacherous terrain, and have oodles of patience.

As you may have guessed, the silverbacks get their name from the saddle of silver hair that develops on their backs as they age. Only the males, who can grow to nearly 500 lbs have this defining feature.

We had permits for two separate treks. Since we had booked this trip late (by African standards), we could only get permits for the Ruhija park entrance, which was two bumpy, pre-dawn hours away from our lodge. At first, this seemed like a setback, and we tried to change the permits, to no avail. In hindsight, it was a blessing.

While the early morning wake-up was painful, the drive to the Ruhija entrance was breathtaking. We were able to watch the sunrise over the hilly tea fields, the sky changing from night to day before our sleepy eyes. We passed women carrying plastic water jugs to the communal wells, farmers tending the land, and the barefoot freedom of kids. All this would have been missed if our permits were at the Buhoma entrance. A serendipitous gift.

Off the beaten path, literally

Advance trackers go out in the early morning hours to help locate the meandering gorilla families. They then radio ahead to the main trackers, so that visitors can find them. Even though their whereabouts are generally known each morning, getting to them is still no easy feat.

Gorillas, unfortunately, do not stick to the paths. They roam. Hiking to them required climbing over thick undergrowth, up and around cumbersome tree roots, and dodging biting safari ants, with the help of machetes to carve the way.

Navigating Silverback Terrain

Vegetation nearly swallowed me whole, and I lost my footing countless times. Safari ants somehow got to places that defied gravity, despite my pants being tucked firmly into my socks. For $20 USD, I hired a porter to carry my backpack. Money well spent, I thought, as she crushed a few safari ants on my back while I navigated the steep and unsteady terrain.

There are about 13 habituated silverback families in Bwindi, and strict rules govern their viewing. Once we found our family, which took nearly two hours on our second trek, we had one hour to observe and photograph them. ‘Habituated’ refers to the fact that the gorilla family has been exposed to humans for enough time that they react normally in their presence.

Silverbacks—The Bitukura Family

The moment I saw my first silverback will be forever etched in my mind, no photo necessary. We were tracking the Bitukura group that morning, and came upon the mighty dominant male silverback, Mugisha, sitting on the ground eating shoots and leaves.

The rest of his family, 12 in total, were mostly arboreal, swinging from the leafy canopy. The juveniles beat their chests (isn’t that a myth?) enjoying forest life. Barely noticing our existence, we were able to get as close as five feet away.

Jungle Love

A dense, deep quiet enveloped me and warmed me from the inside out. The only sounds are the rustling of branches, the low guttural grunts of the silverbacks, and the click click click of eight SLRs shooting simultaneously. Our group sat in relative silence, in mutual awe of the experience.

At times, we jostled for better positioning, and the trackers used their pangas to help us get a clearer view, effortlessly chopping down anything that was in our way.

And then, just like that, it was over. Our time was up. Who knew an hour could go by that quickly? We reluctantly made our way back to the lodge, thankful we had another day of gorilla tracking ahead.

Silverbacks—The Muzika Family

Our second trek managed to outdo our first, in the sense that most of the family was on the ground, and in a group, versus leaping from the treetops. The Muzika group was lively and rambunctious that morning, and after two arduous hours of trekking, we were ready to sit and watch the primate show.

The highlight of that day was when the enormous silverback, Muzika, walked right past me, so close that if I had moved my arm at all, I would have felt his bristly hair on my skin. As per our guide’s instructions, I stayed frozen, allowing him to pass.

Under the dense canopy of the Bwindi forest, the world dimmed. Every so often, a streak of sunlight found its way to the understory, illuminating the foliage, or, if we were lucky, the profile of a gorilla’s face. As much as I wanted to stop taking photos and purely observe, it was a challenging task. The silverbacks are natural models and the clock was ticking.

Family Life in the Jungle

Being such familial animals, I witnessed intimate moments between the silverbacks and their young that felt all too human. Mothers cuddling babies up to their faces, juveniles pushing each other around, and human-like grooming, not unlike the Lice Patrol in the DC School System, I thought.

Silverbacks are distinguished by their nose prints, much in the way we are identified by our fingerprints. Apparently, no two are alike. Even after just an hour with the Muzika family, I could see how the trackers could begin to know one gorilla from another, both through their features, as well as their personalities. And then again, time ran out, and we began our long exit from the forest, happy and sad all at once.

Homeward-bound

Fast forward to three flights and 7,000 Ethiopian Airlines miles. I’m at home, curled up on my couch, searching Verizon FIOS for Gorillas in the Mist. The silverbacks, I imagine, are peacefully roaming the forest, thirty lucky visitors on deck to watch them. Looking back, I am grateful to my friend for sending the text that set this entire experience into motion. Time to look ahead.

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Take on the Medina, and more in Marrakech.
Sail Croatia and the Adriatic Sea on a beautiful chartered gulet.
Spend a few nights on a 15th c. village island in Montenegro.

March 19, 2021
Reykjavík, Iceland: ‘Should I go to the Blue Lagoon?’

The first question anyone would ask when I spoke of our upcoming trip to Reykjavík, Iceland was: ‘Are you going to the Blue Lagoon?’

It would lead one to think that it is the only place worth seeing in the entire country. The Blue Lagoon had not originally been on our hit list, as I thought it would be overcrowded and gimmicky. As it turned out, we ended up arranging it at the last minute, just 12 hours before boarding our flight home to DC.

‘Was it worth the hype?’, everyone asked later.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Capital charm

Let me back up a few large, Icelandic, steps. Reykjavík, the funky, charming capital city of Iceland (and about 30 miles away from the Blue Lagoon, as is worth noting), was not our ultimate destination. We were headed north, via another flight, to Deplar Farm for a week on the Troll Peninsula.

We decided to spend two nights on the back end of our trip to get under the surface of ‘the world’s northernmost capital city.’ Reykjavík, Iceland is a small city, such that it can be explored in just a few days. But exploring, and genuinely getting under the surface are two different things, and I would have loved a little more time given the chance.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Small-town vibes

Reykjavík has the appeal of a small town, with its cluster of trendy and interesting neighborhoods. It felt like a movie set, with a lively cast of characters milling about. Colorful, pitched rooftops, edgy mural-covered storefronts, and brightly painted houses provided an endless visual panorama as we roamed around.

This is a city that is certainly not afraid to express itself, and what it lacked in size, it made up for in energy. Locals passed one another with a wave or a smile, everyone seemed to know each other. With a population of only about 128,000, perhaps they did.

Reykjavík, Iceland: The Alda

City trips tend to overwhelm me, even though I have lived in big cities my entire adult life. I am often racing to get out of the city and into the countryside when on vacation. Reykjavík, Iceland defied this anti-city mentality, and I found myself daydreaming about living there.

Given we only had two days, we chose a hotel from which we could access the main sights on foot. This turned out to be just about every hotel in Reykjavík. The Alda Hotel is on Laugavegur, the main shopping street. Boutique in style and size, the Alda was simple and modern and had views of the rooftops across the low-lying city. Each room provided guests with a complimentary Android phone to be used throughout their stay, which was a nice touch.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Three Barbers

My favorite part of the hotel, by far, was the on-demand barber shop that faced the street and could also be accessed through the lobby. Situated next to Alda’s bar/restaurant, you are welcome to have a beer or cocktail while getting cut and shaved. The Barber website sums it up well, “three guys with a passion for cutting hair, shaving beards, and partying.” Quite a mission statement. The retro red and white frosted glass and old-fashioned barber chairs were insta-ready. Large street-facing windows gave passers-by a chance to watch the barbers in action. Another mini-movie set in this mini-city.

Apparently, these partying barbers have won ‘Best Barber in Reykjavík’ twice. I signed up my son for his back-to-school haircut (via text-only, so as to only minimally disrupt the party, I imagined), whether he wanted it or not. No joke, it was the best cut he’d ever had, and I wondered how I could get him back there every six weeks.

Reykjavík, Iceland: City Essentials

Every city should have a strong caffeine game, in my opinion. This is because there is nothing I enjoy more than sitting at an outdoor cafe with a cappuccino, watching the world go by. I especially love this in a foreign city, where I get to charge up and absorb the culture at the same time.

Cue Reykjavík Roasters, a hipster coffee joint if there ever was one. The design ethos is ‘great-grandma’s house chic’. With mismatched, upholstered furniture, vintage coffee accessories, and an old turntable with oldies to turn, Reykjavík Roasters, is ever-so-slightly full of itself. However, the coffee is really, really good, so I guess they can get away with it.

Their coffee is meticulously sourced from Central and South America, Kenya, and Ethiopia. The cherry on top (or perhaps I should say, the crema on the espresso), is that one of their locations is just a few steps away from the most divine pastries I’ve ever tasted.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Braud & Co.

I was told that if I didn’t arrive early enough, I could miss out on the melt-in-your-mouth cinnamon buns from Braud & Co., the uber-popular Reykjavík pastry shop. I took this as a personal challenge, and despite the fact that I don’t even eat cinnamon buns, it became an immediate priority.

I couldn’t pronounce most of the items on display; kanilbollur, Bláberja & Lakkrís, Danskt súrdeigsrúgbrauð, and Rabbarbarastykki, Brunsviger, prove my point. So I did what any desperate sweet tooth (or greedy four-year-old) would do and just pointed to everything I wanted. We paid, took our treasures and coffees up the street, and sat outside to feast.

It is just as well that I don’t make a living as a food blogger, as I am usually about halfway through any meal before I remember to snap a pic. That said, even a half-eaten rabbarbarastykki from Braud & Co. looked heavenly.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Eat, walk, eat, repeat

I’ve always had a soft spot for a good food hall. Borough Market, in London; Union Market, in Washington DC; and the Shibuya Food Hall, in Tokyo are a few notable faves. I love being able to sample lots of flavors and unusual cuisines in one handy place.

Reykjavík has a surprising number of food halls. At the recommendation of one of our fearless guides from Deplar Farm, we headed towards Grandi Mathöll, aka old harbor, passing fishing vessels hauling in the daily catch. The day was brisk but sunny. A row of warehouses lined the marina, which is where we finally found Grandi Mathöll, the cavernous, savory-scented food hall.

Rustic-chic picnic tables filled the space. Transitional square paneled floor-to-ceiling windows let in oodles of natural light and offered sweeping maritime views. Was I in the mood for kimchi, Icelandic lamb, or Cuban jalapeño poppers? Maybe pizza with a ketonic crust, or deep-fried fish and chips? Grandi Mathöll kicked each of our individual tastebuds into overdrive.

Gastro-what?

Be that as it may, my husband and I had one thing on our minds, the crispy, spicy, chicken burger from the mobile Gastro Truck. Another instagrammable moment, The Gastro Truck had a cool, matte black finish with unique wooden details. It prides itself on the idea of elevated street food. Whatever they want to call it, it was worth every crispy, spicy calorie.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Wandering

In August, the sun didn’t set until almost 11pm, which elongated our outdoor wanderings and allowed us to sleep late each morning. There was never a need to rush (cinnamon buns aside) and our two days felt especially leisurely.

We ducked in and out of boutiques, the interiors just as interesting and decorative as the exteriors, due to the wealth of intricate murals, and richly-colored painted shops.

Progressive Reykjavík, Iceland

According to the Social Progress Index, Iceland is one of the most socially progressive countries in the world. It also blazes a fiery trail in gender equality, and has been cited by The Guardian as, ‘one of the best places in the world to be a woman.’ This all adds up to an open-minded, laid-back, and refreshingly forward-thinking culture.

All along the main and back streets of the city were hidden gems; restaurants, bars, homeware, and design shops, and art galleries. Every so often, we’d pass a tourist kiosk that promoted various adventures easily accessed from Reykjavík. Having just spent an adrenaline-induced week of adventure on the Troll Peninsula, we opted to stay in town.

Off the ground

Keen to see the country from a different angle, I stopped at one of the kiosks in search of a possible helicopter excursion. It took less than five minutes to organize a 90-minute helicopter ride for the following day. My husband and son politely opted out, which left my fearless daughter and I to catch a glimpse of Iceland from above.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Wheels up

The next morning, a driver from Reykjavík Helicopters arrived at the hotel entrance and drove us ten minutes to the tiny Reykjavík Domestic Airport. Within minutes of arriving, we were wheels up with Thor, the pilot with whom we would put our trust for the next few hours.

Experienced and knowledgable, Thor confidently swept us north, away from the city, over majestic waterfalls, and then eventually to a massive glacier.

At 640ft, Glymur holds the title of the tallest waterfall in Iceland. Glymur’s gangly shape looked like a long, towering trickle from overhead. Thor circled to get a closer peek, and my stomach lurched as we dipped directly over the top of the waterfall. My daughter was in her element, thrilled yet relaxed, a huge smile across her face. Mother/daughter bonding at its best.

Thor had told us there was no guarantee we would be able to land on Langjökull Glacier “long glacier”, as it was weather permitting. While it was cloudy and overcast in the city, by the time we got to the glacier, blue skies prevailed. Thor prepared to descend.

Reykjavík, Iceland: Glacial landing

I stepped out of the helicopter as if I was Neil Armstrong landing on the moon, each step tentative, my eyes wide in awe. Arctic nothingness in every direction. Langjökull glacier, at 30 miles long, is the second largest ice cap in Iceland. And at 1,900 ft thick, I had little fear of falling through the ice. But, we stayed close to the helicopter, as instructed, taking a few selfies and videos as proof of this magical tableau in the clouds.

There are at least two active volcanic systems beneath Langjökull, and we saw one caldera, called Hveravellir, in the distance. The silence was deafening and ethereal. The air was completely still. My daughter and I savored the vistas until Thor said it was time to go.

On the way back to the airport, we straddled North America and Europe from above, observing the continental drift between them. The rift of the tectonic plates was clearly visible from the air.

The largest natural lake in Iceland came into view, glassy and reflective, as we ended the tour. We reluctantly said goodbye to Thor, both thinking he had the coolest job in the world.

Reykjavík, Iceland: The Adventure capital

Extreme adventure opportunities in Iceland are endless. With 10,000 waterfalls, 125 volcanoes, and 269 known glaciers, one could spend a lifetime exploring the natural elements alone. The land of fire and ice is no joke.

Yet, there is a time for adventure and a time to chill (no pun intended). With that said, I’ll go back to the Blue Lagoon, was it worth the hype?

As I mentioned earlier, the Blue Lagoon was not part of our itinerary. Only when I serendipitously discovered A.) it was halfway to the airport from our hotel, B.) our flight wasn’t until 6pm, and C.) the overpopulated lagoon had a separate, more private area, called The Retreat, did I pick up the phone and book.

The Blue Lagoon, or Disney?

Calling the Blue Lagoon a tourist trap is the ultimate understatement. According to Lonely Planet Guidebooks, the Blue Lagoon is the Disneyland of hot springs. It is unclear whether the writer thought that was a good thing or a bad thing. I know what I thought.

The area where the Blue Lagoon was built is a UNESCO Global Geopark, which sounds quite industrial. I imagine the bold and daring juxtaposition of the natural and the man-made defines its intrigue and captivates so many tourists each year.

Reykjavík, Iceland: The Retreat

The addition of The Retreat Hotel was finished in 2014. With its own entrance, spa, restaurant, and lagoons, we had the experience of the geothermal spa without the crowds. Basalt, the architecture firm that built it, cleverly incorporated natural elements, (wood and lava) with raw concrete to design a low-impact and modern structure that maximized the unique landscape, and complimented its natural beauty.

There was a viewing deck to look out over the main lagoon, and visually it was quite spectacular. A masse of people waded around the pools with the industrial geothermal plant smoking in the distance. The entire adventure was so unique, I would be hard-pressed to tell anyone to skip it, as we nearly did.

The area surrounding the Blue Lagoon was unlike any of the other places we visited in Iceland. Low, lava-crusted fields seemed to sprawl out for miles. The color of the milky blue water against the porous black lava was extraordinary and added to the otherworldly aura.

At The Retreat, different levels of warm pools snaked around bridges and pathways. The soft mud that forms at the base of the pools is created by the high silica content, which gives it the iconic turquoise color. Unfortunately, photos at The Retreat are forbidden, but I took my fair share from the viewing deck into the main lagoon to capture the scene.

The water temps hovered around 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and the combination of sulfur, silica, salt, and algae, felt soothing to the touch. I think I now know why slime was so popular with my kids. Having the lagoons pretty much to ourselves, it again felt like a movie set, although this time an alien sci-fi genre.

The geothermal waters are supposedly beneficial for the skin, and we spent four hours pre-flight, in and out of the water, applying various mask treatments to ourselves while in the dark, subterranean spa. There were meditation rooms and swinging basket chairs to curl up with a book. Our kids got lost for a while, but thankfully we found them in time to head to the airport.

Hype? believe it.

It was only a 4 1/2-hour flight home, but it felt like we had come from another planet. As I write this post, it’s nearly December. The daylight in Reykjavík is as limited now as it was in excess in August (sunrise: 10:29am, sunset: 3:58pm). A mere 5 1/2 hours of light, and lessening each day. Winter—an entirely different way to experience Iceland. Northern Lights? I’m all in!

Where will you find yourself next? Just Click.

Cape Town is a city where you can have it all; sun, beach, hikes, museums, not to mention world-class food and wine.

Tack on a few days or more at intimate Deplar Farm. It is the ultimate family adventure in Iceland.

Take to the sea—the Adriatic Sea—on a privately chartered sailboat for a week around the islands of Croatia.

November 25, 2019
Cumbria. Many Lakes. One Star.

The Lake District may be England’s best kept secret.

The Lake District, England /

Dungeon Ghyll, Crinkle Crags and Harrison Stickle. No, these aren’t characters from a Harry Potter novel, they are the illustrious names for ravines and peaks in the majestic Lake District of England. Where, if you are American, you won’t see a fellow countryman for days and wonder why this place has seemingly escaped our radar. It is a mere four hour drive from London, which by US standards, is a typical Sunday outing. Some might say, well we have Vermont, or the Finger Lakes, and while those are truly gorgeous lake areas in the US, what we don’t possess are the fairytale hamlets, the tall, spired edifices and the Hobbitt-like thatched rooftop villages that accompany the lakes of Cumbria. Rolling hills, a patched quilt of vivid yellows and lush greens, ancient slate, hand-built stone walls that act as property dividers weaving like a thread throughout the landscape. It is a scene from another era.



Living the fairytale

Our first day in Cumbria started with a leisurely drive to the village of Grasmere, where we lined up for freshly baked squares of gingerbread in the very place that gingerbread was invented back in 1854 by Sarah Nelson. We were far from the only ones waiting patiently at the old stone house where she perfected her recipe (and later kept handwritten in a bank vault) and the spicy sweet combination did not disappoint! The streets we walked were long and winding, the stream banks lined with sheep. We ambled past the eroding tombstone of William Wordsworth and the very daffodil fields that inspired his famous poem.

The remainder of the day was spent driving up and around roads (a generous term!) that are supposed to accommodate two cars but can barely fit one, a virtual game of shark as we held our breath around each curve, praying no one was coming from the other direction. There is no shoulder, no give—in fact only stone walls, so that if you do come face to face with another car, (and you will) someone has to back up indefinitely in order to let the other pass. And here I thought the hiking was going to be the most treacherous part of the trip!

Meandering our way around the snake-like roads that hug the lakes, trying to find the elusive, and unfortunately for us, closed in June, car ferry to take us back to our hotel, we stumbled upon Wray Castle. Best seen from the outside than in, it is a Gothic Revival castle that was built in 1840. The grounds and exterior are beautiful but the inside was never restored to it’s 19c glory and is disappointingly used mainly as an exhibition space and for kid’s events.

The peaks of Cumbria

We were told that there are maybe fifteen days a year of cloudless skies in the Lake District, and we were lucky enough to get them, especially since we had a few days of strenuous hiking ahead. Our past track records for hiking having not been so fortunate, hiking three plus hours to the summit only to see a lovely view of drizzle and fog. My husband told me after our trip that at least three people and a dog were blown to their death off Helvellyn last year due to weather conditions. I’m relieved not to have known that sobering fact earlier. But in our case, the UK weather reported, “another glorious day with spells of unbroken sunshine.” British weather reports are truly inspired.

Orrest Head was a warm-up hike the day before our trek up to Helvellyn, which is the third tallest peak in England. There we saw panoramic views of Windermere Lake and various peaks in the distance. We could just make out a string of sailboats in the distance as we took a seat on a wooden bench and admired the hushed landscape, the immense sky swallowing the sun, the birdsong in the foreground and the baa-ing of sheep in the background. The well-known British fellwalker (well-known mainly in the UK, I’m guessing), Alfred Wainwright, wrote of Orrest Head, ‘…quite suddenly, we emerged from the shadow of the trees and were on a bare headland, and, as though a curtain had dramatically been torn aside, beheld a truly magnificent view…”

Spending time in Crook

We checked into our room at our hotel, The Gilpin, which is located in the fantastically named village of Crook in County Cumbria. The Gilpin is a place of opposites. At first a lovely old historic inn with 26 rooms and a Michelin-starred restaurant, and second, a modern feat of architecture, with separate unique, geometric stand alone rooms made of wood and glass, cedar hot tubs and modern amenities, somehow living together in harmony in this bucolic part of the country. It has been family run for 100 years, and you immediately feel as if you are part of their family.



The communal sitting areas, complete with coffee tables and books, comfy chairs and sofas on which to nap, make you feel as if you are in your own home. There is an inviting and elegant bar, wine room, and a gorgeous garden patio to have pre-dinner drinks and canapés. The owners are always wandering around and happy to chat about your day. The atmosphere is as warm and inviting as you could possibly want.

Our room had a spacious outdoor patio and a two-person round cedar hot tub that was sunken into the deck and somehow always at the perfect temperature. Bamboo and other wildflowers dotted the property, the air was dry and sunny, and it was nearly impossible to drag ourselves to the 60 second walk to dinner that evening.

A star among the lakes

Part of the allure of Gilpin, other than it’s lovely location nestled in the heart of the lakes, was the on-site restaurant HRiSHi, which boasts a Michelin star, among other awards, for it’s executive chef Hrishikesh Desai. Never ones to pass on a chef’s tasting menu (wine-paired!), we put ourselves in the chef’s hands for the night.



As a true nod to the chef’s talent, it was the first time we have ever chosen a vegetarian tasting menu. It was just too good to pass up, even for a carnivore like me. So we split the difference, my husband ordering the Signature Tasting Menu and me ordering the vegetarian option. Highlights were many, too many to count, but if I had to pick, the Lemon Gnocchi with marinated halloumi and wild mushrooms over cépe foam, paired with a delicate Albarino from Rias Baixas, Spain was an instant favorite. That, as well as the Wye Valley Asparagus, with pickled mushrooms and saffron aioli, on toasted almond cream, paired with a lovely white from Puglia, Italy. Each course more decadent and artfully designed than the last. Two plus hours later we trekked the 60 second uphill back to our room, wondering how we were going to manage in the morning.

Tackling Helvellyn

The next day started off with a lovely breakfast in a sun-lit room in the main house before we drove to the base of Helvellyn in Ambleside. I overheard a grandmother, who sounded eerily like Maggie Smith, explaining to her granddaughter, the game of cricket, “Nothing much happens. And it takes about three days to do it. “



It was a gorgeous day and once at the top, we were assured we’d be able to see as far as the Irish Sea. We reached the trailhead via Kirkstone Pass, which was a road with one of the most dramatic views of the Lake District. At that time of day, it was just us and the cyclists, which made the drive even more serene, the lakes seemingly frozen in time and the reflections razor sharp. We parked, and then began our trek along the Hobbit-like countryside, passing wildflowers, sheep, lambs, waterfalls and streams, stone walls that curled along the route like a miniature Great Wall of China, watching the villages recede further into the distance as we gained altitude and took in the drama of it all. Two and half hours of uphill later, we found ourselves scrambling over the jagged rocks and tricky knife edge ridge known on the map as Striding Edge, the place where some have met an untimely death. ‘Striding’ seemed a bit too ambitious a term, as I was on all fours, refusing to look any way but dead ahead, and cursing my husband underneath my breath.

Thankfully there was no wind and conditions were in our favor, but admittedly it was the most exhilarating part of the hike, every sense on high alert to make it at last to the summit at 3,120 feet, passing high above the Red Tarn and looking down into the valleys. Truth be told, the views were worth every gray hair I earned that day. The way down, the hike making a natural loop, was a little more leisurely, apart from the scramble along Swirral Edge, and filled with the most verdant of landscapes. Foxgloves popped out like hot purple pokers from in and around the ancient stone walls. The villages materialized, and civilization and a cold beer were in our immediate sights.

world cup: England v. Belgium

The last night of our time in the Lake District was spent at the casual restaurant at Gilpin, The Spice House, watching England lose to Belgium in a group match during the World Cup. I was assured this loss didn’t matter, which was confirmed as no one seemed particularly upset by it. The Indian menu was a nice contrast to our previous meals and the atmosphere relaxed and casual. We ordered a bottle of Grüner Veltliner and settled in for the match. Being as far north as we were, it amazed me to see light still clinging to the sky at nearly 11pm.

The next day was an early rise and on to the next stop of our European journey. In some ways, I felt like the sole American discoverer of the glorious Lake District. I would encourage anyone to add it to their bucket list of travels while in the UK, as it is a fairy-tale inspired moment in time you will not easily forget. As we headed out of town, one last moment of being wonderstruck by the rolling hills, mountains, valleys, hamlets and mirror-calm lakes, I saw a sign for The Sun Inn and smiled. Maybe I was in a Harry Potter novel after all.

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Five Reasons to get lost:

• Spending time pre-dinner on the patio at the Gilpin and watching mama birds feed their babies under the eaves.
• The hair-raising drives around the lakes, wanting to watch the view but needing to watch the roads!
• Making it to the summit of Helvellyn on a rare sunny day and popping open a well-deserved can of Coke.
• Having warm gingerbread at the birthplace of gingerbread, then roaming the very streets that Wordsworth and Beatrix Potter once walked.
• Hearing phrases like ‘dilly-dally’ and ‘higgledy-piggledy’ used in every day conversation.

Where will you find yourself next?

Consider a short flight from London to Milan and head to Lake Como for a few days.

Live in an ancient 15th c. village in Montenegro while overlooking the Adriatic Sea.

Take on the Medina, and more, in Marrakech.

July 15, 2018

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