Allison A Janssen

Tag: travel

  • The love bubble. YTT in Koh Lanta, Thailand

    The love bubble. YTT in Koh Lanta, Thailand

    I can’t really remember when I began saying…’When I see myself as an old woman, I see me in a black swim suite top, a flowing green sarong, the curls in my hair have been let loose, and there is glowing energy around me. I think I am a yoga teacher, a writer. I bear age lines of laughter, worldly experiences and I seem really content with my life. I’ve obviously lived a full life-bearing witness to both beauty and harsh realities. My husband is there, and so are like 6 of our grandchildren. I can’t see them, but I hear them all giggling and playing around in the living room. I myself am by the kitchen sink, in front of a sun filled window, hand washing dishes and smiling with an ear towards the living room.’

    I guess I started picturing (manifesting) the older, wiser version of myself somewhere in college. Early twenties for sure.

    And this is where the power of thought, the power of our minds comes into play. Back when I was living in Geneva, had someone told me where my life would travel over the next five years, I would have probably said to them, ‘perfect, yay, how did I do it?’

    Even now, writer seems way far out there. Let’s be real. I blog. I journal. I write for companies. And luckily, I write for a newspaper. It does make me a writer, but not an author- at least not an author in the sense I hope to one day be.

    So this picture in my head. It’s there. I think about it. And maybe by doing so, I have created circumstances for myself that link, or follow on the same path to my picture. Moving to Geneva, meeting my soul mate-Rob-in the streets of Barcelona (of all places), moving to Thailand, moving back to Geneva, completing my MASTERS, moving to Holland to be with Rob, traveling to foreign lands together, moving back to the USA together, and when he leaves for Army basic training… there somehow being an open window to create something new for myself. To accomplish something my soul was seeking.

    It was late March. I officially had over a month left to go of no communication with Rob. The window was there. I had narrowed my choices down to either reaching for my Yoga Teacher 200hr certificate or volunteering in Costa Rica at a homestead. Both options were great, but there was only one real choice-Yoga Teacher Training. Of course, I wanted to learn more about living off the land; but, my heart was leading me to yoga. My self-practice was strong, my mind was ready and my soul was already waiting there.

    So, I spent the next four hours googling. (Don’t you freaking love google!) Google sent me so many directions. My window became the world and I could travel most anywhere and become a yoga teacher. And then it happened. I saw ‘YTT 200 Intensive, Koh Lanta Thailand’. 

    ‘Sold,’ I thought.

    I literally danced in the living room, yelling over to my Mom… ‘Mom, I am going back to Thailand’.

    A one month program, 200 hours of training in Koh Lanta. In two months, I would become a certified yoga teacher! Whoop whoop!

    My excitement must have lasted a whole of 4 minutes.

    Minute number five, I sat back down at my computer. Minute six, I saw the price. Minute 6.15 my internal excitement came to a screeching halt.

    How in the hell could I make such a big financial decision without talking to my husband. Yes, he gave me the green light before he left on any trips or any decision that would lighten the load of being left at home. To do something that I always wanted to do. But, still… to have to make this decision about spending so much of OUR money alone. It was difficult.

    I of course, went back to my Mom. Told her my thoughts and we talked through it all. (Mom’s are better than google). I will spare you the details, because I obviously made the decision to go.

    The flight was lengthy. First stop, Moscow. Second stop, Singapore. Third stop, Bangkok (where I got to hang out with two dear friends of mine).

    Last stop, Krabi.

    The love bubble began to grow.

    Our hosts, Kate and Farrah (owners of Oasis Yoga of Koh Lanta), told me via email that I would meet one other YTT participant at the airport and that together we would be taken by car to Koh Lanta. Norbert was sitting on the side of the airport, patiently waiting. As I walked out with my luggage, our driver signaled Norbert with one hand and waved his ‘Allison Janssen’ sign at me with the other.

    Our long ride to Koh Lanta, was mostly filled with silence. A big inward journey had just taken flight.

    Once we arrived, we checked into our rooms and were told that everyone would be meeting in just a few hours for dinner.

    I quickly settled in, washed up and anxiously waited for 6:00.

    I think it would take me a whole book to actually explain to you the depths of YTT and our experience as Jai Yoga Arts trainees/graduates. So, I won’t do that. This post is already long enough.

    But, what I do what to say, I guess, can be felt through the review I gave Ella, just a month after the completion of our training.

    It went something like this…

    “Every time I reflect upon my Jai YTT experience, my heart begins to swell with both love and gratitude. The entire month of Jai YTT was simply ethereal, beautiful in every possible way. Ella Luckett constructed a course so entirely practical, truthful, challenging and engaging, both physically and philosophically. She completely filled it with her heart and soul. In the first days of the course, one of the questions Ella asked us, was what did we hope to gain out of this training. In my reply, I answered that I was seeking a sense of quiet confidence, confidence in myself as a yoga teacher. If I walked away with anything, quiet confidence was what I really needed. Now, a month later, I can honestly say I gained that sense of quiet confidence that I was pursuing and so much more! I walked away with knowledge of my Self that I will carry with me for the rest of this life, I gained peace in who I am on my yoga journey and how I can best share my passion and purpose with others. I learned to better appreciate every moment, to more sincerely realize that yoga is a journey that requires patience, and the beautiful part of the journey is the small singular moments we each take as individuals in a cosmic whole. While I genuinely cherish every moment we all shared during our month long experience, the silent mornings hold a special place in my heart. Every morning, accompanied by silence, I could feel the energies of my comrades around me. Together we built a love bubble; moving, breathing and growing in silence. It was magical. I am incredibly thankful to Ella as my guru, for the inspiration she is, and to the other sixteen beautiful individuals, all who I now proudly call friends.”

    Last words:

    Our thoughts are powerful. See where you want to be. Place that picture of yourself in your head and hold onto it. Edit it if you need to. When you act, question if your actions are leading you towards that place. Watch your soul open windows for you and jump through. Don’t let fear stop you. Move forward with kindness, trust and love.

    I know I am no where near that picture of myself. There is a lot of time and experiences still to come. I trust there is. But, I know that image I have in my head is me. I know that laugh in the other room… it’s Rob’s. Those childish giggles, I have no clue who they are, but I know I will one day. I love my journey. I trust it, whatever comes. But mostly, I am so thrilled to experience every little unfolding, every manifestation come into existence.

     

  • Day 9: Lobuche to Gorak Shep

    Day 9: Lobuche to Gorak Shep

    Out of all the tea houses we stayed in, I hate to say it, but I think the one in Lobuche was my least favorite. The set-up was just odd. There were about 8 or so rooms on one cement hall, interconnected by a cemented bathroom to another cement hall with its own 8 rooms. It was all pink dark cement. Odd. To add, everything was wet and dingy. It was off-season, we get it. Anyways, when 6:30 wake up call came, I was ready to throw on my clothes and hit the trail. Before doing the grudge work of getting out of my sleeping bag, and packing everything up, I took a peek out the window of our small room. I could see that the clouds wanted to take a gander at what the ground felt like. Heavy rain swells lied within them, and it was almost certain to me that our morning hike would be a wet one. Rob took a look as well. In agreement, we slid on an external rain tight layer that we bought for under 30 Euros in Kathmandu. Apparently Northface. In a jiffy, we were headed to the breakfast table for, who would have guessed it, porridge and oats. Sustenance is sustenance eh?

    Roughly around 7:30, we walked out into the wet cloth of outside and headed for Gorak Shep. The air was really wet a thick, yet a deep inhale still filled my entirety with fresh mountain air. So entirely invigorating. Within the first 100 meters, we saw a helicopter landing pad made of green grass and yellow flowers and painted rocks which made the H with the circle around it. Being that my Gramma is a helicopter pilot, I automatically thought, how cool would it be for her to fly here right now and see us climbing this trail! Everest, I am sure, is out of the question. My next thought was, I am glad we have not had to fly a helicopter this trip. A helicopter flight would have meant a life threatening situation and at least $5,000. So, yes, glad no helicopters joined our adventure.

    Gorak Shep lies at 5184m. It was about a 3 hour walk from our tea house in Lobuche. For some reason, I had envisioned that the last stretch to the last tea house would be tough. But, it could quite possibly have been the easiest day, both physically and mentally. The streak from Lobuche to Gorak Shep is just a steady, constant incline. No major changes. Just steadiness. The trail climbs over rivers, valleys and makeshift bridges, but all with rather easy forward footing. Once the rain came, my initial reaction was a bit of dread, but after a couple of minutes and the realization that my rain gear worked, I was so happy it was raining! With strong legs, steady breath and a light heart, we treaded on! Life felt real, gritty and beautiful. And as we mounted the village of Gorak Shep, just a short three hours after departure, a beautiful white horse stood under the day’s last view of Everest. All I could do was smile with my heart.

  • Everest Base Camp Trek: “First we fly to Lukla”

    Everest Base Camp Trek: “First we fly to Lukla”

    In hindsight, the first step of our epic EBC trek was probably the most unnerving. Let me first set the scene. While in India, and staying with friends in Ahmedabad, we were surprised to hear that at the age of 14, our friend Kahan, trekked to EBC with his father. While he mentioned some “really?” kinds of things, on the lines of sanitation, water, and intensity, what frightened us the most was what he said of the first step of the EBC trek- The flight to Lukla. Kahan basically stated that if we made it through the flight, the trek to EBC, for us, would be cake. Of course this alarmed us, so we asked why? He said, one: the planes are rickety old things, flying at incredible altitudes in all sorts of weather changes; two: the landing pad is on the side of a mountain and is truly 1,500ft long and only 60ft wide, with a runway that ends in a blank mountain wall and has an uphill gradient of 12 percent.
    HOLY COW. (Should I say holy cow in India? Oh well). And the story kept going, I promise. So, now let me tell you ours. After two days wandering around Kathmandu, drinking Everest Beer, preparing for our trek and seeing the sublime earthyness of Nepal’s capital, (which I of course will tell you about at a later date, because it is incredible), we were ready. So, on the morning of July 4th, 2014, we set out for our individual independence, our freedom and our couple and self-exploration. Wake up call was about 4 am, with Rakesh our amazing guide, picking us up at about 5am. Once we arrived at the airport, we could even see HIS nerves about flying. And he has literally made the flight hundreds of times- and still nervous? Now that is frightening. But, okay, I said a little prayer and boarded the 12 person plane. We were given candy to eat and cotton balls for our ears, and told to hold tight. Lift off was forcible and I was not armed. But, once we were in the air, the biggest smile came across my face. I kept telling myself, if we WERE to die on this flight, it was meant to be- so enjoy the beauty. As I looked back at Rakesh and the other Nepali passengers, I don’t think they had quite the same thoughts. But, as the picture shows above, I felt like I was the closest to God I had ever been at that moment. Outside the small plane, was a sea of mountains, light clouds with sunlight simmering through. The ectasy of the moment made me feel light, like cuddling in a bed of covers on a cold winter’s night. Part of this ecatasy was also knowing the next terrifying moment was ahead. So, when the captain said, “preapre for landing, I took a big breath and smiled back at Rob- “here we go”. The landing required so much percision. I mean, I get a bit nerved when a normal plane lands and then is taxiing towards the airport. This time, 1,500 ft away, there is nothing but mountain. You get me? But, we landed safely. And at that same split second, my journey of thankfulness and appreciation for my life and our beautiful world began.

  • Pushkar, India

    Pushkar, India

    Sometimes, when I look at the adventures I have been on, the countries I have seen, the landscapes I have walked through, the cultures I have gotten the chance to swirl in, I am simply baffled and cannot help but feel incredibly blessed. Pushkar is a small city in the Indian state of Rajasthan, near India’s border with Pakistan. In some cases, even the most devout of Hindus wait their entire lives to make a pilgrimage to Pushkar, for the fact that it holds one of India’s few temples dedicated to Bramah; yet, miraculously, Rob and I made it there. Of course, when people ask you about India, it seems to be that the terrible instances get highlighted. Most often because people ask, “well, isn’t it dirty?” or “didn’t you get sick?” or “weren’t you uncomfortable as a western woman?” I guess it is also because the wonders of India are so very hard to explain. How can I rightly explain what it is like to watch the sunset over the Holy Lake of Pushkar, a lake infamously created by the tears Sati when her beloved husband Shiva passed away. How can I spell out the echoing song of the holy men, the soft tender cries of elderly beggars, the chatter of gypsy children pleading for a simple chapati, the call of street traders selling their catchpenny items. It seems close to impossible. Also, deeply personal. Somewhere inside, I constantly think to myself, why am I trying to explain the wonderment of India; unless a person is to experience it for themselves, they are never going to truly understand. But, of course I will keep on trying, muffling that small thought every now and again. So, yes, Pushkar is a facinating city; one that was truly worth the trip. Though it is very small in comparison to even Udaipur, a day can easily be filled by walking through the shops, trying to find ways to get around without walking near the entrance of the lake (where Sadhus time and time again ask you to come to the lake for prayer, which costs you-the tourist- as always- a pretty penny), eating vegetarian delights that you had no clue existed, watching the sun set over the lake from the many lakeside rooftops, counting cows, playing cards and drinking chai. Okay, it may not sound so facinating here, but its in these simple acts that you encounter so many things. For example, we wanted to send some dresses home to our nieces, so of course, we went to the post office. Well, what would take fifteen minutes in our western fast world, took half the day in Pushkar. It was actually fun though. We got to go inside the post office, spoke to the local postman who painstakingly took our dresses, wrapped old cloth around them and sewed up the sides for packaging. He spoke of the travelers he has met in his many years living in Pushkar, all while searching through piles and piles for a pen that could actually write on cloth. He was genuine, real and a delight to chat with. There were so many times that a normal task turned into an “experience”. This of course happened everyday on our travels, but in Pushkar there was something in the air that made every encounter heavier, more gritty and forever memorable.

  • Udaipur, India

    Udaipur, India

    Udaipur, India, in the state of Rajasthan. An incredible beauty. From Ahmedabad, we took a RedBus to Udaipur, which was about a 6 hour bus ride. Something like that. Udaipur is more of what I had always imagined India to be, in so far as Architecture and such, with the palaces, small streets, vendors gallore, a dirty lazy river and ghats rolling between where people swam, bathed, gathered for prayer, did the wash and even drank from. We stayed a total of 4 days in Udaipur, all which were filled with new sounds, colors, dirt, warmth, cow poop, trash and happiness. Freedom. Up to this point, I had vehementently refused to rent a scooter while in India. For me, the roads in India are a dangerous place for a foreigner to drive. I mean, Indians clamour about in old caddy cars, horse trailers, tractors, bicycles, elephants, donkeys- not to mention the Holy Cows wandering through the roads- and all without clear rules and regulations. Indians know this to be true, so I promise, I am not slandering here. But, Udaipur is so big, so if we were going to see its true sights, it seemed I needed to give in on the whole “renting a scooter thing”. So I did. Some parts were scary as hell, but we did it. One of the most beautiful sights for me was the Monsoon Palace of Udaipur, formerly known as the Sajjan Garh Palace. The Monsoon Palace was our first destination outside of the city that we wanted to go see, and with our scooter, it was now all possible. The palace itself overlooks Lake Fateh Sagar. It was built in 1884 by Maharana Sajjan Singh of the Mewar Dynasty. The palace itself is not that incredible, but the views you can see from it ARE. It offers a panoramic view of Udaipur and the Aravalli Hills. And by traveling there, you will gain new white and black, long tailed friends- monkeys. I think Macaws.

  • Calangute, Goa, India

    Calangute, Goa, India

    The Indian State of Goa; formerly a Portugese colony, equipped with such past remininces mixed together with all the spice of today’s India. We stayed in the town of Calagunte, famous for its proximity to gold beaches, the Old Portugese Fort and chill hippy feel. We arrived in Calagunte via RedBUS, which took us a total of 20 hours from Bangalore. Upon our arrival, we searched for a cheap taxi to take us into town. After about 20 minutes of bargaining, we were off no better than we started at $8 for a 20 minute cab ride. We stayed in Calagunte for six days, mostly chilling around town, eating wonderful food and taking our mo-ped to all the beaches and small towns in the area, constantly getting caught in torential rain.

    One day, I made an appointment at an Ayruvedic Clinic just outside of town. My appointment was from 11-12, so Rob came back to come pick me up at 12:00 sharp. On his ride to come in get me, the sky was clear, but literally 5 minutes into our ride home, nature starting spilling car-size droplets on our head. We could not see two feet in front of us, so we found a tree to which we thought would provide us with shelter until the rain lightened. But, the tree could not even help. There was nothing to do but laugh, dance in the rain and be so thankful for life. We waitied for around 25 minutes, just talking, shivering, dancing, and laughing (me doing most of that) and then the sun broke free of the rain’s chains and we quickly hopped back on the bike. Shortly after is when I snapped this picture above. I found it beautiful, just like Calagunte.

    The sights of everyday life always brighten my soul and during our time in Calagunte, an “everyday” included Monsoon Season life. With fewer tourists around, life in Calagunte during Monsoon season is slow, lazy and free; women walking in fields after hard rains, men in bars at 10 am sipping on cold beers, couples plowing their field with their faithful ox, children running and splashing in flooded soccer fields. Simple and beautiful.

  • Bangalore, India

    Bangalore, India

    Just a short flight away from Colombo, lies the Silicon Valley city of India: Bangalore. Truly, we did not know what to expect, for the reason for traveling to Bangalore was more that we could hangout for a couple of days with my old roomate and her husband (Priyal and Jamshed). Therefore, Bangalore took us by surprise. It is s seriously cool city.

    Formally known as Bengaluru, Banglore is the capital of the state Karnataka and is the third most populous city in India. Bangalore has a really comfortable climate, sitting at over 900 meters above sea level, and can therefore be enjoyed year-round. Out of all the cities we have visited thus far, we deemed Bangalore as the most livable. As a sprawling metropolis, every corner has something to offer, whether it is an old temple, a historic market, or a new modern cafe (such as The Smoke House or I and Monkey).

    The photograph taken above is from the front of the Krishnarajendra Market, which really was a whole city in itself. Every walk of life meets here to get their goods: clothing, food, utensils, spices, toys- just about anything. And as most bazaars, upon entry, you feel as if you are walking back in time. Thinking to yourself, “wow. this is what a supermarket use to look like.” Furthermore,  I am sure many Westerners would be set-aback by the hygienic state of the market, but that didn’t stop us. In fact, I think it spiked our curiosity even more. Walking between sacred cows and their poop, vegetables, clothes, sewage, monkeys, bare feet and piles of trash, our curiosity was rewarded by the new sights, sounds and smells. Our day was incredible, our stay was perfect and we hope to get back to Bangin in Bangalore some day in the future.:) Thanks again to our dear friends for letting us stay at their home: a home filled with a lot of love, beautiful people and ridiculously good food.

  • Koggala, Sri Lanka

    Koggala, Sri Lanka

    You know the moment you start planning a trip and you see tons of photos of your destination, and there are around 2 or 3 that you see and then tell yourself, “I have to see that”. Well the photo above, was exactly that for me. For almost a month, I spent my little spare time between work and life, researching what we should see in Sri Lanka; above all, I just had to see for myself Sinhalese men using their ancient fishing technique at the Indian ocean’s shore of Koggala. It was a must. And therefore, one afternoon, towards the end of our tour around Sri Lanka, we rented a scooter and skimmed the shoreline roads between Hikkaduwa and Koggala looking for my fisherman. And at just before sunset, we got to see them sitting on their sturdy sea-faring sticks, dipping their old cane poles and coming out with money in the form of little sardines. At this moment, I felt achievement, happiness, and curiosity for all the other sights we will soon see. It’s these moments that are the reward for pushing boundaries, for being a traveler, for being who I am.

  • A kind soul named John

    A kind soul named John

    In total, we stayed in Sri Lanka for close to a month. Our days were filled with so much natural beauty. Just as important, if not more, we also experienced so much kindness. Though we met so many nice people with friendly faces and hearts along the way, the caretaker of Dinaka Rest in Kataragama, MR. JOHN (the man on the right) was for me the kindest soul I had met in Sri Lanka. On the night of our arrival in Kataragama, traveling and experiencing new food and a new diet got the best of me. For a total of 12 hours, I basically puked my guts up. But, I couldn’t have been in better hands. Not, only did I have my husband by my side, who is always helpful and caring, I also had Mr. John. Being in just s small village, knowing where and what medicines to get was not easy for Rob. And therefore, with a caring hand, John did his best to help me in every which way, from going to get me medicine, to serving simple foods and honestly just being thoughtful. After 2 days of rest, I was finally better. As if he hadn’t already been so kind, John took care of us in so many other ways. John was like our Sinhalese grandfather, offering stories, simplicities, lessons, and standing up for us when our Safari driver did us wrong. He gave us a free night stay, saying we must stay more days since I was sick and did not get to see what we intended; he made delicious meals to both mine and Rob’s needs; he took us to the bus station, making sure we got on the right bus to Unawatuna, and even paid for the tickets. At every chance, we tried to interrupt, saying, “John, please, it’s too much. You don’t need to do that.” But, he was insistent, and all we could do was smile and feel blessed. Though sometimes the language barrier was present, the understanding between the three of us was so dear and something I will never forget. Thank you John and we hope to see you again some day. :)

  • Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka

    Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka

    After a 2 day stay in Negombo and another 2 days stay in Kalpitiya, Anuradhapura was the next stop. Anuradhapura is one of the ancient capitals of Sri Lanka, famous for its well-preserved ruins of ancient Sri Lankan civilization the preservation and continuation of Theraveda Buddhism. The ancient city, considered sacred to the Buddhist world, is today surrounded by monasteries covering an area of over sixteen square miles (40 km²).

    But again, being on a backpackers budget, we opted out for the UNESCO tickets and decided to find bird’s eyes views of the Dagobas inside the ancient city. So, with our backpack packed full of the tourist reg (water, camera, books and money) we headed to the watersheds (an impressive engineering feat themselves), which with their height above ground, we could use as a viewing point. From there, we traveled on to see the laying Buddha, Ruwanwelisseya Dagoba, the Rock Temple, and the sacred Bodhi Tree (where we recieved our first Buddhist Blessing of the trip). By this time, it was getting later in the day, but earlier, we had passed by a huge Buddha statue, which we thought would be worth a see. So, thinking it was our last stop, we headed for the statue, only to find ourselves in the middle of a monastery. And as we entered through the gates, we were waved over by a monk with a big smile, asking us to come into his classroom filled with his students. The kindness we experienced in the next two hours and again later in that evening is something we will never forget. We spent hours talkng about the English Language, Buddhism, the circle of life, finding faces whom you are sure you have met in another life, and visiting one of the monk’s temples late into the evening with a cup of soup, tea, and a big smile; feeling absolutely sure that at this moment in time our lives were blessed.

  • Istanbul, Turkey

    Istanbul, Turkey

    So, Istanbul, Turkey; the historical crossroads between Europe and Asia and the starting point of our big 4-6 month trip. The city holds 14.1 million people, stradling the Bospohorus , the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea. It’s well thought position or location has led it to prosper throughout history, with being the capital of four different empires. Today, it has become truly big and metropolitian, though old world Istanbul can still be found by seeking out religious monuments, bazaars, listening for the calls to prayer and tiny nooks and crannies holding colorful favorites, such as the Blue Eye.

    In total, we spent 9 days in Istanbul and found the city absolutely incredible. Almost every one of the 9 days, we spent walking somewhere between 10-30 miles; and the reward was the fact that we got to see so much of Istanbul. From Taksin square, to Kadikoy, to most every religious house of worship, we saw so much. The photograph above is of the inside of the Sutan Ahmed Mosque, more commonly known as the Blue Mosque. While, I would have loved to capture this moment at the time of prayer, it seemed a bit too invasive, so I opted for an off time. The Mosque itself is absolutly beautiful, with tiles and colors that keep your eyes amused.

    Istanbul is a truly captivating city where every one of your human senses is intrigued and then rewarded.

  • Erg Chebbi, Morocco

    Erg Chebbi, Morocco

    Stillness, peacefullness, and nothingness; the expanse of the Sahara is mind blowing. Many times, winding down long Texas highways, with only the occasional tumbleweed, I have often thought, “Wow, there is nothing here. I hope my car doesn’t break down.” But, after seeing the Sahara, Texas seems like a fountain of water. I mean, atleast you can find some bushes for shade or some small cavern of hope. In the Sahara, there is only sand and a glimpse at forever. However, this glimpse at forever is truly captivating. There is something about it that draws you in. You know you are about to embark upon a journey that will surely only unfold the same picture over and over again, in a monotony of sand, but yet the sense of curiosity- feeling forsure that there has to be something out there, draws you in. And then night falls and you find that exact change, that something you were looking for: the landscape of stars. As expansive as the desert itself, you feel such a sense of smallness in their presence; the wholesomeness of the world for those momentsand the fact that there is so much out there, brings a sense of peace to you and humanity. The same sense of hope that you feel at the embarkation of your journey catches you again. Hope and wonder are a powerful mixture.

  • De Ardenne, Belgium

    De Ardenne, Belgium

    Every now and again, we get the chance to do our favorite thing: be alone with just nature and the two of us. So after a tiny bit of planning, we packed our bags for a weekend camping in the Ardenne in November. Everyone told us not to go, that we were crazy; it’s too cold and too rainy they kept saying. But, with determination and desire, all things are possible. So, we headed out, train to bus to a good number of kilometers by foot, we finally found a trail to set out on. With all of the rain, we had to cross a good number of rivers; pants rolled up, tossing bags across with hope. Unfortunately, there are not many places to just set up camp. So, with night dwindling, we snuck into some large private property, and climbed into a hole in the deep woods. And putting about a half mile between us and the fence, the density of the forest became more sparse and we found our home for the night.

  • Kasteel de Haar, Utrecht

    Kasteel de Haar, Utrecht

    So, your line of thinking probably just went something like this… 1) Pretty Castle like thing, 2) Who is that man?, and 3) Oh, it’s slippery.

    Yes, it is a beautiful castle, Kasteel de Haar of Utrecht. The oldest historical record of the castle dates back to 1391 and was last restored in 1892. It has been passed through a number of royal Dutch families. In 2000, the Van Zuylen van Nyevelt famiy passed ownership to the Kasteel de Haar foundation. It can now be rented out for events, weddings and is just a really beautiful place to visit, rain or shine.

    To your second thought. That’s my uncle. Kent. He is an incredible person. He made this photo because, as I am soon about to share, he along with my Mother, Father, Sister, Grandfather and Gramma all came to the Netherlands to be part of mine and Rob’s small Dutch Wedding. In the days leading to our wedding, we all got to spend some time together. One of the things we did was to visit this beautiful castle and the city of Utrecht.

    And to your third though, yes, it was slippery. Good thing we are from Texas and always have sturdy boots on!

  • Climbing in the Italian Alps

    Climbing in the Italian Alps

    Fear is an interesting thing. I love being outdoors, and absolutely love long strenous hikes. And throughout the years, I have often talked about the hikes I have completed in terms of climbs. But, it was not until I went with the TuE outdoor group to the Italian Alps that I experienced what real climbing is; and for me, it was a tough, but enthralling adventure. I don’t even think this picture rightly places the difficultly of the climb we completed. It was forsure supposed to be for experienced climbers. But considering Rob and I were the only two unexperienced climbers, I guess you could call the group as a whole experienced. And though at times I was truly full of fear, the reward of reaching the top was truly an incredible gift that I gave to myself.

  • Argeles-sur-mer, France

    Argeles-sur-mer, France

    For around two weeks between late June and July, we spent sweltry sweet days in Argeles-sur-Mer with the Janssen side of our family. The days mostly encompassed retrieving the morning baguettes, preparing to go to the beach, down-time, sangria, soup, sweat, cards, cold showers, dinner, more sangria and loads of family laughs. I hope that every year, we get to join our family on the trip. The photo above was taken on a day around the area on motorbikes with Rob’s brothers and cousins. The Mediterranean never disappoints; especially for me. Just as the Caribbean feels like home, the Mediterranean sparks my inquisitiveness. The culture is a unique mix between a French breakfast and a Spanish dinner. It’s posh, yet quirky and when you add in the many Dutch campers who flock to these sites and sights during summer, opportunities for fun are endless.

  • Cherry Farm, Azle, Texas

    Cherry Farm, Azle, Texas

    Outside of Ft. Worth, Texas, there lies a little city called Azle. Azle might not seem so important to many people, but to me and my family it holds a piece of heaven; a piece of Cherry history. Now, my grandmother has done extensive research on our ancestry, but the intricacies are not needed here. What I want you to know that the Cherry Farm and family history could be a book in itself. It is laced with tales from our Cherokee ancestors, our dairy farming tradition, red neck living and a whole lot of loving kindess from our angel Mom Cherry (Lela Cherry). And this picture encapsulates the view from our little house on the hill, prarie if you will.

  • Playa del Secreto, Mexico

    Playa del Secreto, Mexico

    It seems that I refer to “Homes” quite often and again, I will do the same here. Another familiar place, a place I can also call home, is the Riviera Maya; more specifically, Hacienda del Secreto on the beach of Playa Secreto. I think I have already posted a pic or two of this location, but being that I am a frequent returner, I guess I can’t help it.

    So often, I find myself telling people how the beach and location of Playa Secreto is unparallelled. But, seriously, the more I travel, the more I do sincerely believe that the best beach in the world is Playa Secreto of the Caribbean Sea. I mean, say you go to Thailand.. from expereince, I know how incredibly beautiful the beaches are, but the kicker is that the water isn’t that refreshing; actually, quite often, it is warm. Or say you venture to the North Sea, or to the Atlantic or Pacific? From experience, I can also say that the sand is more rough, brown, and not as easy to lay on, not to mention getting in your “jores”. Plus, sharks… hello? But, yes, of course, this is my advantage.. that I know these things. That I have gotten the chance to experience all of this: it’s what this blog is all about. And when it comes to my sanity, nothing beats traveling. But, when it comes to what waters I want to soak in or what sand I don’t mind in my swimsuite bottoms.. Playa Secreto takes the cake.:)

  • The North Sea of the Netherlands

    The North Sea of the Netherlands

    In celebration of an incredible whirlwind of happiness, Rob and I took his old red car to the North Sea for the weekend. , We spent the afternoon to early evening at the sea and then the dunes. Just a short walk from our splendid little hotel, lied the dunes. Upon entering the dunes, a sense of utter tranquility arises. Rob explained to me why the dunes were made and how; also the importance of them in concerns to preservation of their land. For horseback riders, bikers and walkers alike, the dunes provide a shelter from the hard winds of the North Sea. In the dunes, birds sing their sweet melodies and work to interwine them with the rhythem the grass’ rustle makes. The whole scene is simple and beautiful. After a good long walk in the dunes, we met the sea. To be honest, while the looks of it is gorgeous, the harshness of the wind makes it hard to really enjoy it face first. We were there in May, so maybe that has something to do with it. So, instead of dipping our toes in the water and sitting on the Sea’s edge, we sought peace in a small dune on the soft cliff. We drank light wine, talked to seagulls and eachother and enjoyed the beautiful moment.

  • Tuscany, Italy

    Tuscany, Italy

    By motorcycle, we rolled through the sweeping hills of tuscany, relishing in the beauty of it all. In the area we drove around in, we could not find a soul who spoke English. But, as our hunger worsened, we ended up finding a restraunt where we just looked at a beautiful woman in her late fourties, maybe, pointed to our bellies and hoped she understood. She did. Thankfully. And around 10 minutes later came out with bread and a heaping pile of spaghetti.