The following post is by Walker Lukens, my good friend who is now a contributing writer on Maiden Voyage. He is currently on a month-long trip in Africa. Read his last post here.

View from our Ngorongoro hotel. Thanks be to jetlag for this epic sunrise photo.

I wake up fully refreshed at 4:30 a.m. I don’t want to disturb my mom sleeping in the bed next to mine so I decide to go read on the porch. One step out and all the peaceful night time noises are now in my face, crawling down my legs and flying into my torso. I see twenty feet in front of me a large black mass turn it’s two-horned head toward me and snort. I stick my head in the door, tell my mom to come look but before she can make it over, the water buffalo runs off into the brush….

—–
8 a.m. Winding down the west side of the crater, all visible mountains are covered with green pasture. Maasai warriors are the only people in sight. The pastures are dotted with groups of their small huts—from far away they look like half-submerged balls of brown earth—surrounded by wooden wreaths. It’s tacky, I know, but I can’t stop myself from trying to sneak photos of them. Their robes, which I see now are intricately woven patterns similar to keffiyehs, and their black skin are gorgeous against the green and blue of the terrain. Muhammad can’t tell us why they wear red or blue except that they always have. The little children react to my camera and smiles by shouting phrases in English and waving. The adults look displeased, however, and Mohammad tells me they’re saying ‘pay me money for that’ in Kiswahili. Probably in a effort to stop me from taking photos and assuaged my curiosity, he suggests we go visit a village. We can pay a tribe $50 and they’ll give us a tour of their village and we can take all the pictures we want. I can’t figure out if this is some kind of special deal that he’s found, if there’s a particular village that does this, or if its going to be a sort of World’s Fair style exhibition.

West of Ngorongoro crater

We say yes and quickly find out that all Maasai villages do this. (We start to pass safari cars parked outside of many of them.) After leaving the mountain terrain, we pull into one of the villages. Mohammad exchanges a few words with the man who comes up to greet our car. Mom and I are uncomfortable at this point, not wanting to be spectators at an ancient and sacred ritual. Rough Guide to Tanzania says, “depending on your sensibilities, the experience can either be an enlightening and exciting glimpse into the ‘real’ Africa, or a rather disturbing and even depressing encounter with a people seemingly obliged to sell their culture in order to survive.” I only read this after. In the end it’s both.

A troop of Maasai men and woman walk out from the village twenty or thirty feet from our position. They’re divided by gender. The women are to our right and the men are about thirty feet to the left of the woman. Behind them unending sun-dried red dirt, the occasional acacia tree and further the barely-visible remainder of mountains. A boy, fourteen or fifteen years old, makes his way over to us. He introduces himself and explains that they are going to do a traditional welcome song and dance for us. Mom and I are at maximum discomfort level at this point but, once it begins, we see laughter, smiles, varying degrees of enthusiasm, eye rolling…. It’s clear that they’ve done this before and take it pretty lightly.

The male and female groups are each lead by one person. They begin a phrase and the group repeats. The male and female sections are not singing the same phrases. Rhythmically and melodically, they’re not in unison either (at least in any way akin to Western music.) The men sing rounds in low guttural tones. The women do the same in high shrill voices. The result is a sort of nebulous choir piece and the effect is hypnotic. (If I was a music journalist, I might call it cacophonous white spiritual.)

They finish and we’re led towards the village—two concentric circle fences with huts lining the outside one and a large tree at the center of the inner circle. Discomfort level is back up. We’re taken into the inner circle and told that we’ll hear another song. The singers, still divided by gender, are much closer to us now. Other, non-participating tribes men close us into the circle from behind. We’re in their home. We’re inside their private conversations and have no idea what they’re saying (is it us?) I feel their breath, smell their smell and hear their music. The same boy who took the money explains that they use the money to buy water and point to hundreds of plastic barrels. This song is even better than the last one—louder and more powerful since they’re closer. The men’s part is a shorter round and the vocal tone is closer to a growl. There’s still a leader but also someone jumping very high into the air at the end of each turn.

The second song from the Maasai

We go through the motions of being honored guests who deserve a welcoming song although neither host nor guest believes in it. In fact, we’re just paying customers at a poorly staged performance put on for non-native curiosos: no comfortable distance between spectator and performer, no seats, no beverages for sale and no playbill. Yet by failing to be a proper performance a more powerful and vertiginous outcome is achieved; two Americans in the middle of an alien ceremony, smack in the middle of a village and its people, in the middle of a country in the middle of a continent in a corner of the world that we poorly understand. The impulse is there to compare it, to tame it, to disconnect from it even, but for a moment there it’s just strange and frightening and beautiful.

Maasai men can jump (and sing.) The leader is the man closest to the camera on the left.

Then, the feeling’s over. I’m coaxed into doing the jump with the men’s group. (This being the volunteer-from-the-audience portion of the magic show.) Discomfort spreading to cheeks and dripping down my back. No surprise: this white man can’t jump either (I had to, sorry.) The song finishes and we’re taken outside of the inner circle and deposited in front of several tables full of jewelry and crafts.

While all of it is well-made and unique, none of it is something I’m looking for. We both buy some stuff out of guilt. Then our guide leads us into one of the huts. It’s eight or nine foot in diameter and I can only half stand-up. The frame of the hut is built out of branches and the walls are made of newspaper, cardboard, mud and animal hair. We learn this is the home of one of the chief’s wives and her children. He has ten wives and he spends each night with a different one of them. This tribe will live here for two or three months before they move in search of fresh pasture for their cattle and rebuild their entire village. I ask what will become of this village and he shrugs and says another group will probably take it. We find out that the hut is also constructed using manure and human urine, which are great adherents apparently. My mom, while maintaining her cool, goes a little pale realizing we’re surrounded by this.

Inside of a Maasai hut

It all could have ended here but we’re lead out to a school house behind the village where a class of adorable little children, four or five years old maybe, demonstrates their ABCs for us in English. Our guide asks us for the money and asks if we can give it to him in small bills. Half the money will go directly to the chief, he says. Turns out the chief is also the kindergarten teacher and I see our guide hand over the money to him. (I still wonder where that other half went.) He tells me that an NGO gave them this chalkboard and the chalk a few years ago. Then, he asks me how ‘we’ learn at our home. (Is the question a standard part of the tour?) I say that its similar—it is the same methodology—but the differences, my privilege, are too much to articulate.

Maasai school children. Notice the Barack and Michelle Obama on that little boy's t-shirt

I ask the guide where he learned English and he tells me that he went to primary school fourteen kilometers away. That means he walked to and from school seven plus miles every day. It also means that at his age he’s probably done with his education. Most of the other boys in his age group have already left the village. They’ve gone to look for work and, as I’ve seen since, are all over Tanzania working as security guards, taxi drivers, porters, waiters—almost always they are wearing their traditional garb.

The Maasai have not benefited from the westernization of Tanzania. Still nomadic today, they used to roam all over the Serengeti, Ngorongoro, up into Kenya and down into central Tanzania. However, their territory has been reduced dramatically over the last 100 years. First, by the Germans and British who kicked them out of the Serengeti and Central Tanzania, and then by the Tanzanian government who limited them to the Ngorongoro Conservation Area only. How do you incentivize a nomadic tribe to opt into your economy? One way is to force them by taking away their water. There was a time when you could see them in Ngorongoro Crater but since the seventies they have no water rights to the lake there and their cattle cannot stay over night. Their herds of cattle ate tons of grass and reduced the amount of wild herds e.g. wildebeest and zebras, which in turn reduced the predator population and therefore safari-goers, money, etc. Now, the Maasai have to pay for water—and, indeed, ‘sell their culture in order to survive.’

I learn later that we could have haggled and gotten a lower price. I met some folks who proudly told me that they got the same treatment for $12. Did we see a $50 show? No, but we did glimpse contemporary Tanzania at perhaps its most incongruous angle. A tribe largely uninterested in ‘Tanzania,’ the sovereign state, working increasingly mobile and curious tourists on as favorable terms as they can. “… [This is]…the irrationality of the various statehoods imposed on Africa…that, for example makes ‘Kenyans’ out of one half of the Masai [sic] and ‘Tanzanians’ out of the other,” writes Shiva Naipaul about 1970′s Africa. This morning, we were witness to this irrationality or, perhaps, absurdity as it exists in 2012. The absurdity of having to simplify your culture into some ‘authentic’ form for tourists hunting after mementos, anecdotes, and perspective—the irrationality of thinking you can know someone else after an hour.
—-
1 p.m. A friend once told me that he loved returning to his hometown in West Texas because the sky is so big and the land so flat that he remembers how unimportant he is in the scheme of things. Driving into the eastern Serengeti gave me a similar feeling. The gravel road cutting through the unnervingly flat green plain. Deep blue sky stacked on top. The occasional outcroppings of rock and trees (without which we can’t mark our progress.) The big rainy season-sized clouds (without which we wouldn’t feel the shape of the sky). And, of course, the animals. Far away pairs of ostriches. Giraffe families. Zebras herds. Gazelles. I don’t feel unimportant so much as I feel like one fast, armored animal among many different kinds—as entitled to this place as they are. (For shame, that we forget that.) We’re zipping along in a big car, the windows are down, my mom says she feels like she’s water skiing and its awesome.

Eastern Serengeti

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3 p.m. I was told before leaving that you know you’ve got a good guide when every time he passes another safari car, they stop and exchange information. Through this method, Mohammad learns that there’s a leopard in a tree. He’s experienced enough not to tell us and to just take us there (what if the leopard leaves?) but we’re driving with more intention now. The terrains has changed. Taller grass, subtle hills, scattered trees. The roof is up and my mom and I are standing on the seats with binoculars around our necks. Other safari cars are also there. Leopards are nocturnal and this guy is trying to nap. This is one of the moments on the trip where I wish I had splurged on a nice camera. From a glance, you can only distinguish the leopard from the tree branch by his paw hanging down. A harder look reveals that his tail flicks ever so often. When he takes a deep breaths, his body does a lazy shudder. Then he looks at us, stands up on the branch—the top of his torso barely visible between the leaves—and extends himself upward so his legs are at their full length. Every muscle is fully flexed. His sharp teeth glare out of his wide open mouth. He looks at us again. Sit back down now with his head resting in the other direction. He was just stretching.

The car next to us is full of Americans and they have all of the hallmarks of a study abroad group. There’s one guy and many girls. Some have taken to dressing like the Tanzanians. Everyone is terribly sunburned. The conversations shifts between ‘the leopard they saw yesterday,’ goading the boy into getting out of the car (which is illegal by the way), ethnocentrism, and various anecdotes from earlier in their Tanzanian adventure. At one point, one of the girls asks the guide if they will see any honey badgers on this trip. The guide looks confused. Here they are looking at a leopard! One of the big five! One of the fiercest animals on earth! Why does she want to see a honey badger, he asks politely. She declines to explain. He says that they are hard to see in the tall grass. (Honey badger definitely don’t give a fuck about your African adventure, girl.)
—–
5:00 p.m. The terrain continues to evolve, the trees getting denser, the grass becoming shorter again, and the hills more pronounced. The stark blue sky and pale green plain from before have been replaced by many shades of green. At times, the bush is so dense the yellow grass is fully blocked for hundreds of feet. Our gaze moves up and down the hillsides for animals.

We see three female lions sleeping fifty yards from the road. While every one of their movements is imbued with significance for us in reality they’re just stretching like the leopard. For the first time we see baboon families occupying huge swaths of land. Some lope across the grass, others groom each other, some climbs trees, all are cute.

We come across a broken down safari car on the side of the road. The driver is Muhammad’s friend so he stops to help him. The family is milling about the car and the driver is putting on the spare. The man has a discreet Americanness about him: Cargo pants, corporate tee shirt over his paunch, goatee, wavy hair slicked back from sweat under his safari hat. Restless, he walks over to offer his guide some help. Then, he walks back to talk to his daughter. Then, he pokes his head in the car to check on his son. His hands rest on his hips then move to his pockets.

I’m tired of driving and feeling social so I go over and ask how long they’ve been here. He says not too long. Our guides must know each other I say and he agrees. His guide seems to know everybody he adds. I ask where they’re from and he tells me that he’s ‘out of D.C. And she’s out of New York.’ We’re roughly the same age, the girl and I. I ask which part and she tells me the East Village. I live in Williamsburg. We smile and make eye contact for a second. We live across a river from each other but we’re meeting here in this nondescript part of the Serengeti. My mind’s trying to work out the logistics of how we both got here at the same time and yet have never seen and probably never will see each other at home. The world doesn’t feel small to me. It feels helplessly big and complex. When so many of the most important things come down to timing how is this improbable meeting so meaningless? The moment’s not magical. It’s solipsistic. I can account for myself but everything else—a dumbfounding ‘how.’

We leave the feeling hanging there. We never exchange names.

About the author: Walker Lukens is a musician and ESL teacher who, most recently, was living in New York, NY. He loves traveling and has been all over the US, Canada, the Caribbean and Western Europe. He has also spent time in Brazil, Israel/Palestine and Serbia. Find him at WalkerLukens.com or on Facebook.

One of the many historical jewels of Istanbul, Turkey is the Hagia Sophia (Ayasofya in Turkish), which sits directly across the street from the Blue Mosque. It is one of the oldest and most fascinating buildings I have ever explored. It originated as a Byzantine cathedral, was taken over and turned into a mosque, and is now a museum that shows both religions in a strange juxtaposition.

Above the main altar, there are massive black circles with Arabic writing in gold, but if you look up even higher, you’ll see painted angels on the ceiling. The exterior features magnificent minarets, but inside, you’ll find gilded Byzantine mosaics of Jesus that were once painted over but have since been restored.

First, a little history. The structure underwent several incarnations. According to Lonely Planet, “The first of these was a basilica with a timber roof completed in 360 by Constantine’s son and successor, Constantinius, and was burned down in a riot in 404; and the second was a building commissioned by Theodosius II in 415 and destroyed in the Nika riots of 532.” It was then rebuilt by Emperor Justinian and was completed in 537. It remained a church until 1453, during the Conquest of Constantinople in 1453, “when Mehmet the Conqueror took possession of it for Islam and immediately converted it into a mosque,” says Lonely Planet. Because it is significant to both religions, it was turned into a museum in 1934.

According to Let’s Go Istanbul, “Ayasofya is the forth biggest Cathedral in the world with its 56m high dome, after Saint Paul in London, Saint Peter in Rome and Duomo in Milan.” Below are a series of photos I took while exploring it. I apologize that some are blurry; it’s very dark inside.

The main altar

View from the interior balcony

Be sure to check out this photo of the inside of the Hagia Sophia by Gary of Everything Everywhere…it’s jaw-dropping (he is an HDR master).

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My first wedding anniversary was on March 26, so my husband and I decided to spend the weekend together in Fredericksburg, Texas to celebrate. It’s a historic town originally settled by German immigrants, and it’s just over 70 miles from both Austin and San Antonio.

I’ve lived in Texas my whole life, but had never been to Fredericksburg. I always had the impression it was a boring small town where grannies went to buy antiques. But I started to hear great things from friends who went there on day trips or for a weekend, and it’s been receiving acclaim for the flourishing Fredericksburg Wine Road 290 (a trail of 10 local wineries).

Fredericksburg for 20somethings

My friend Jeff Jung from Career Break Secrets grew up here, and he connected me with Mary Ann McClain, the Communications Manager at the Convention and Visitors Bureau. I told her about my apprehensions, and she assured me that Fredericksburg has plenty to offer 20somethings. “I think your earlier perception of Fredericksburg is what it once was,” she told me via email. “Today, people love to come because Fredericksburg has evolved into one of Texas’ top destinations through its location (gorgeous scenery), great shopping, romantic B&Bs/guesthouses/inns (over 370), through the quality of the 70+ restaurants here, from an explosion of wineries, and due to our emerging art scene.  There’s just a creative vibe here, drawing artists and enabling more galleries to display here. It’s also very relaxing and fun.”

She said there are also hundreds of festivals and events in Fredericksburg each year, plus outdoor activities and entertainment geared toward my age group. “Active 20somethings might enjoy hiking or rappelling Enchanted Rock, or perhaps cycling of scenic roadways. During the spring, these roadways and surrounding fields are sprinkled with color from wildflowers that grow rampantly here,” she says.  Additionally, “Luckenbach Texas is an eclectic place; it’s very laid back and there’s usually live music playing, and a chicken or two or four wandering around.  Speaking of live music, several places in town are great for that, including Ausländer Restaurant & Biergarten, Hondos on Main, Crossroads Steakhouse & Saloon, and Silver Creek Beer Garden & Grill.”

Now for our itinerary, which I highly recommend if you only have two nights and don’t want to be scrambling the whole time. We had a lovely time and definitely plan to go back!

Accommodations

We arrived in Fredericksburg at 3 p.m. on a Friday, which turned out to be perfect. We went straight to Absolute Charm, a company that handles reservations for hundreds of local lodgings (rather than having hotel chains, Fredericksburg has hundreds of independent B&Bs and inns–they have so much character!). We picked up the keys to our place–The Carriage House at Along Shady Creek. I chose it because it’s a few blocks from Main Street, but on a quiet residential street. It was also quite affordable (less than $200/night) and has great amenities.

We had the entire second floor of the carriage house, which is next to a residential home. The space is more like a vacation rental than a B&B, as it has a kitchenette, and they gave us a gift card for breakfast at a selection of local restaurants instead of serving any. It is cozy and very private. It has a Jacuzzi bath tub large enough for four people! I also loved that there was a spacious living room with a flat-screen TV, DVD player, and electric fireplace.

It backs up to a creek and is home to a colony of vocal ducks. We had a private patio overlooking the creek, and I loved sitting out there reading in the mornings while I waited for my husband to wake up. There was also some outdoor seating outside by the creek. They had recently added an outdoor hot tub, though we didn’t end up using it.

Our deck overlooking the creek

The resident ducks. That tall fellow was the ringleader, and he was LOUD.

Bryan wanted to pet a duck, but they were not having it.

Friday

Visitor Information Center

After checking in and putting our bags down, we went to the Visitor Information Center. They have really friendly staffers and endless stacks of maps and brochures about local attractions, events, and day trips. I highly recommend stopping by if you want to learn more about the town or get insider tips on what to do and where to eat. It’s in the center of town, just a block behind Main Street.

Pacific War Museum

Our first stop was the main building of the Pacific War Museum since it’s right down the street from the Visitor’s Center. You can see my husband standing in front of it below, where there is a full-sized ship protruding from the ground. The museum tells the full history of what led up to World War II with artifacts, written displays, timelines, and videos.

The place was a maze just teeming with information, and while I did start to get bored after about an hour, my history-obsessed husband was enthralled. Though I was captured by the Pearl Harbor exhibit, which puts you in a dark room with an submarine and eerie submarine sounds, and it plays a series of videos and audio that tell the gripping story of that day. The museum had several full-sized planes, tanks, and guns. Down the road is a reconstructed combat zone, which offers tours every hour. There’s another museum in the complex that is dedicated to the history of Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, who was from Fredericksburg. Your museum ticket gives you access to all of these.

An American military plane in the Pacific War Museum

A Japanese gun at the Pacific War Museum

A piece of the original USS Arizona from Pearl Harbor

Explore Main Street

Main Street is where most of the action happens in Fredericksburg. It has many restaurants (some serve German food) and shops. There’s also a pioneer museum and several venues that offer live music at night.

The town has over 150 shops, many of which are on this strip. I had the misconception before coming here that they would all be dusty antique shops or Western wear stores. While there were certainly some of those, I was happily surprised to find many chic clothing boutiques, fun candy stores, a modern pet accessory store (I wanted everything in there, including one of the employees’ puppy teacup chihuahua, who chills out there), cute wine tasting shops, and book stores.

We couldn’t get enough of Rustlin’ Robs, a shop with aisles and aisles of canned nut butters, salsas, peppers, jams, sauces, dressings, and other yummies. They had bowls of crackers and an open jar of just about everything in there, so you could stuff your face for free while exploring all of these amazing local offerings. I bought a jar of apple butter; it was my first time to try the stuff, and I’m in love.

Main Street

Chocolate-covered pickles, bacon, and jalapenos at Lone Star Candy Bar

Boots at Something for Men, a shop on Main Street

Peanut butters at Rustlin' Robs

Rows and rows of nut butters at Rustlin' Robs

Vinegars at Rustlin' Robs

Dinner at The Cabernet Grill

This restaurant came highly recommended to me by a seasoned Fredericksburg traveler, and it had excellent reviews online, so we gave it a try for dinner. The service was a wee bit slow, but it’s a small town, and oh boy, the food was amazing. The menu was diverse and infused with Texas flavor. It was also very reasonably priced for the quality and creativity. The wine list is enormous, with many wines from local vineyards.

Warm goat cheese with garlic and sun-dried tomatoes

Jalepeno-stuffed, bacon-wrapped quail with grits and green beans

Trout stuffed with asiago cheese and bacon with maple chipotle sweet potatoes and green beans

Saturday

The Sunset Grill

The next morning, we were slow to rise and stopped by The Sunset Grill for brunch at 11 since it was one of the places where our breakfast gift card could be redeemed. My husband had a regular ol’ omelet, but we were about to go wine tasting and I needed some real food in my stomach, so I had a colorful crab cake salad with mango vinaigrette. So fresh and tasty! Everything else we saw come out of the kitchen looked great. The restaurant is extremely casual and very affordable. Perfect for a quick breakfast or lunch.

Messina Hof Winery

From Fredericksburg, hop on Highway 290, also known as the Wine Road. There are 10 wineries just a short drive away. I’m not a big drinker, and I’ve never liked wine, but I decided to do some tastings and see if I could find one I fancied.

Messina Hof is a new winery in the Hill Country; their home base is in Bryan, Texas, but they opened this location last year as a tasting room. It’s housed in a gorgeous villa. The inside has two bars for tasting, plus an outdoor patio where you can enjoy a glass. It was recommended to me as a place to go since it’s less crowded than some of the larger vineyards (ie. Becker and Grape Greek).

Here’s how it works: You pay $10 and get a wine glass with their emblem on it that you get to keep, plus five wooden tokens. They give you a menu of their offerings and a chart that lets you rate the ones you try. You tell the bartender which one you want to sample, he pours it in your glass, and you drop a token in the jar. Each pour was enough for many sips, so my husband and I tried all of each others’ wines so that we could sample 10 total. I was shocked to discover that I liked the rosé and the sangria–they were very sweet, tasty, and easy to drink. I was so excited and bought a bottle of each. They were very reasonably priced (both less than $15).

Messina Hof Winery in Fredericksburg, TX

One section of the Messina Hof Winery tasting room

Becker Vineyards

While we were already out on the wine trail, we decided to go to a second vineyard. Becker Vineyards is in Stonewall, and it’s one of the largest wineries in the area. We were warned that it could get uncomfortably crowded, and packed it was. Inside, it was hard to get the attention of the bartenders, and some of the other patrons were pushy. But the outside area was beautiful; people were picnicking, napping on the grass, playing with dogs, and a band was playing live music. The vineyard did an event with free pasta earlier in the day; they often have cool events like that.

The tasting worked the same way here; $10 per person, and you keep the wine glass. You get six tastings here, and since we shared, we got to try a total of 12 wines. I wasn’t wild about any of them, but it was still a fun experience, and my husband really liked the pinot grigio and Riesling. By that point, I was a wee bit tipsy, so it was time to go back to our place and take it easy until dinner. Note that several companies offer winery tours that take you around in vans from place to place so you don’t have to drive after trying a few too many wines.

Becker Vineyards in Stonewall, Texas

Becker Vineyards tasting room

Movie and nap

We found a Redbox at the local HEB and indulged in a lazy afternoon until dinner. Hey, it’s vacation!

Dinner at Navajo Grill

I’m reluctant to mention this place. A foodie I respect recommended it, and it had very positive ratings on TripAdvisor and Yelp, so we gave it a try. While the food was delicious, the service was horrendous. Truly some of the worst customer service I’ve ever experienced at a restaurant. It was especially upsetting since the dishes were around $30 a plate. Based on all of the good reviews, I have to think that they were just very understaffed or having a very unusual night. The main thing I liked was that my salmon was served with seared pumpkin in a sweet honey balsamic sauce. I’ve never had pumpkin that way before, and it was very good.

Filet mignon with sweet potato and green beans

Salmon with honey balsalmic sauce and pumpkin

 Sunday

 Amish Market

We woke up late and had some time to kill before lunch. This store was on the quiet part of Main Street near where we were staying, and I wanted to go poke around. I was disappointed to learn from the shopkeeper that there are actually no Amish people in Fredericksburg; the store imports their Amish goods from places like Pennsylvania and Ohio. But the good news is that everything there is genuinely Amish. There were Amish cookbooks, noodles, wooden cooking utensils, syrups and molasses, candies, and knickknacks. We left with some tasty Amish cheese.

Amish furniture and buggy

Fredericksburg Brewery

Mary Ann said visiting this brewpub is a must, so we had lunch here on our final day. Texas alcohol laws are very strange; if you make beer, you can sell it locally through a distributor, but you can’t sell it from your own brewery. So what Fredericksburg Brewery does is sell the beer only on-site; this means they don’t have a distributor so you can’t buy it anywhere else, but you can enjoy the heck out of it while you’re there.

My husband ordered the beer flight, which gives you 4 ounces of each of their freshly-brewed beers. It’s served in order from light to dark, and while I’m not really a beer drinker, I enjoyed watching him taste and critique them. He fell in love with the Enchanted Rock red ale. If you like one, you can buy a big jug of it for $18 to take home (I can’t remember exactly how much it holds). The friendly waitress said if you come back and bring the jug with you, a refill is only $12. Amazing! The food was your average American fare–not spectacular, but certainly good. It was really neat to eat with the brewery tanks out in full view.

Beer flight at Fredericksberg Brewery

Bryan's philly sandwich with sweet potato fries at Fredericksburg Brewery

My beef fajita salad at Fredericksburg Brewery

Me with a jug of beer at Fredericksberg Brewery

Phew! We definitely plan to go back so we can visit some of the other wineries and try some of the other restaurants that were highly recommended. Have you ever been to Fredericksburg?

One of the many reasons why I love Europe so much is that I geek out over their history. It’s totally normal visit a castle in Scotland originally constructed in the 1100s, or to explore ruins in Italy that were built before Jesus existed. We just don’t have that type of documented history here in the U.S.

What I love about Boston is that it’s one of the oldest cities in the United States, so it scratches my itch for seeking out history when I travel. Due to the city’s long past, many of the old churches and buildings actually have a European feel (view my post on the Boston Public Library to see what I mean).

There are also several historic graveyards sprinkled throughout downtown that really show how old the city is. I love that downtown Boston is a lively urban hub that has these incredible little pieces of history wedged between it.

Boston Common, founded in 1634, is the country’s largest park, according to the City of Boston. It’s nearly 50 acres and has a central burying ground that is still preserved. When I was there a few years ago during a February (lesson learned, never go during that time of year), I explored it. It was so peaceful and quiet. Maybe it’s morbid, but I found these faded, disheveled gravestones fascinating. The names are so uncommon now. Some of the lives were so short. Who were they?

Here are some of my photos from the graveyard in Boston Common.

Have you ever been? Do you enjoy visiting old cemeteries, or does it creep you out?

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One of my favorite things about Italy is the magnificent architecture, especially of the churches and cathedrals. I’m not Christian, but I find their history and beauty fascinating. Other than The Vatican, the cathedral in Italy that enraptured me the most when I visited two years ago was the Basilica di Santa Croce in Florence. Besides having a commanding physical presence, it is home to the tombs of Michelangelo, Niccolò Machiavelli, and Galileo Galilei, and monument to the writer Dante. Here are some of my photos of the cathedral.

It’s the largest Franciscan church in the world. The original structure was built in the 1200s, with much of it later being added in the 1400s. The marble facade was added in the mid-1800s by a Jewish architect (which explains the prominent Star of David).

In addition to the famous tombs and monuments inside, the museum has many ornate frescoes and paintings, multiple chapels within the church, and a separate exhibit area.

Monument for Dante

Galileo's tomb

The tomb of a knight in the ground

Michelangelo's tomb

Old church music

Robe of St. Francis of Assisi

Have you ever been to the Basilica di Santa Croce?

Visiting museums is one of my favorite parts of travel, and the Seattle Art Museum was no exception. Seattle was full of incredible ones–I also loved the Experience Music Project and Olympic Sculpture Park.

The impressive art museum in downtown features modern art, Native American art, African art, Japanese art, Islamic art, American art, European art, and other works from all over the world. I also enjoyed an exhibit that talked about the truth and fiction behind the representation of Pacific Northwest Native Americans in the Twilight movies (yeah yeah, judge me all you want). Here were just a few of my favorite pieces.

An unusual installation at the entrance! Inopportune: Stage One, 2004, by Cai Guo-Qiang

"Heart Sutra, the shortest and most popular Buddhist text, is incised onto the surface"

Native American totem poles

The artist, Do Ho Suh, made this with dog tags with gibberish (see up-close below). Some/One, 2001.

This represents the opression the artist experienced in Eastern Europe

African tribal costumes

When my husband and I went to Seattle this summer, we stayed in Belltown, a hip neighborhood a few blocks north of downtown. We were only a few blocks from the Olympic Sculpture Park, so when the sun came out in full force one afternoon, we walked over to explore it. The modern art won’t appeal to everyone, but anyone can appreciate the gorgeous waterfront views.

The park opened in 2007 and is free and open year-round. The nine-acre, waterfront space was once an industrial park that now features green spaces and unique works of art. You navigate it through a Z-shaped path. According to the Seattle Art Museum, “Weiss/Manfredi Architects designed a continuous and constructed landscape for art. Their vision was to transport art outside the museum walls and bring the park into a landscape of the city.”

Schubert Sonata, 1992, Mark di Suvero

Me in front of The Eagle, 1971, Alexander Calder

Father and Son, 2005, Louise Bourgeois

Bunyon's Chess, 1965, Mark di Suvero

Love & Loss, 2005-2006, Roy McMakin

Split, 2003, Roxy Paine

On my August trip to Vancouver, one of the attractions I was most looking forward to was the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden in Chinatown. It was the first large-scale classical Chinese garden outside of China. It’s also a non-profit that aims to serve as a cultural exchange between Chinese and Western cultures. This stunning landscape opened in 1986, and it’s free to wander around the main area of the garden. We immediately knew we were in Chinatown when we saw this:

The garden is named after Dr. Sun Yat-Sen, shown in the bust below, who is recognized as a symbol of modern China. According to the garden’s website, he worked toward establishing democracy in China and helped lead a revolution in 1911 that overthrew the Qing dynasty. In 1912, he became the first president of the Republic of China, but quickly resigned in order to work toward the economic development of China instead.

The architecture brings together all of the elements of a traditional Chinese garden from the Ming dynasty: jade green water, weathered rocks, mystical plants, and beautiful buildings that appear to be floating.

The park is full of beautiful wildlife, including these critters:

The most amazing part was that this garden was set amongst urban Vancouver, as you can see from the condos and office buildings in the background, but it felt like you were in a quiet part of China.

The garden was a joint effort between the Canadian government, Chinese government, and private workers in both countries. They brought 52 master craftsmen all the way from Suzhou China, who worked with local Canadian to build this within one year.

The halls and walkways of the garden were built so precisely by the master craftsman that they didn’t use any nails, screws or glue.

The garden also had several indoor rooms that you could explore, many with traditional Chinese art, writing, and clothing. You have to pay a small fee to enter this area.

The garden was such a peaceful and quiet respite in the midst of a busy city. Have you ever been?

When I went to Greece two summers ago, I fell in love. After daydreaming about the country for years, that didn’t surprise me one bit. The white-washed buildings, sparkling sea, unusual geography, and extraordinary history swept me off my feet. My sister and I took a five-night cruise on Louis Hellenic Cruise Lines with Contiki, and it allowed us to explore several of Greece’s most incredible islands.

Here are some of my photos from several twilight hours we spent in Mykonos Town (aka Chora).

Octopus was on many menus here

Even this gay bar is white-washed!

That section of buildings on the water is called Little Venice

The windmills are no longer in use, but remain iconic here

Earlier this month, I went to Savannah, Georgia for the first time for a wedding. I live in Texas, and while people here definitely have Southern hospitality, we aren’t quite “the South.” New Orleans is the closest I’ve gotten to it, and both Savannah and New Orleans ended up really reminding me of each other. It had true Southern charm and made me wish we had more time to explore.

It was a pathetically quick two-night trip. We arrived late on a Friday night and flew out at the crack of dawn on a Sunday. But the wedding was on a Saturday night, giving us the afternoon to explore the city’s Historic District. We stayed at the Four Points by Sheraton at the edge of the Historic District; it was very affordable, very nice and clean, and a pretty short walk to great bars and restaurants. It wasn’t as central as some of the other hotels, but it was just fine.

I enjoyed Savannah’s ornate architecture and incredible American history. We kept stumbling upon plaques that told of the events that took place in the city. In certain areas, I felt like I was transported back in time. Many of the beautiful older homes are now B&Bs, and while I really wanted to stay at one, the group rate at the hotel was just too good. Next time, I definitely plan to stay in one of these historic inns.

I was told by several people before I went that Savannah was known for its wide streets shaded by large, mossy trees. It was more beautiful than I could have imagined:

I found out when I got there that the Historic District was filled with squares. Every few streets, there is a massive square that stretches several blocks. They all featured large, old trees and massive historic monuments.

I took this in Madison Square (named for the president), which has this beautiful monument to William Jasper, a man from Savannah who was a sergeant in the Revolutionary War:

The architecture of the homes in the Historic District was very regal and detailed, and reminded me a lot of New Orleans:

The couple we were there to see get married recommended checking out Forsyth Park, which has a famous fountain in the middle of it. If you keep going, you pass by acres of grassy lawns and more historical monuments. With its long walkways, shady trees, and massive fountain, the park looked like something from a love story. In fact, I took a photo for a couple who said they got engaged right there exactly five years ago! I couldn’t pass up getting a photo of me and my husband in front of the fountain:

I also saw some fun street art in the city:

And let’s not forget the Southern food. We were in Savannah so briefly that we hardly had any meals there, but we had a fabulous dinner at The Olde Pink House. It’s where the wedding reception was held, though several people on Twitter actually recommended it to me as a place to eat before they found out I was already going there for the wedding! It’s a gorgeous old mansion with a very elegant, stately feel, and massive amounts of history took place in it. The appetizers were mini crab cakes, beef tenderloin crostini, fried green tomatoes, and I think the last one was friend macaroni and cheese with jalepeno poppers. For my entree, I had a fabulously moist pork tenderloin with sweet potatoes and collard greens. My husband had one of the most famous Southern dishes around: shrimp and grits (pictured below). All of the staff there were so friendly and funny (we were at a table full of people from the Northeast, and they just couldn’t get over how hospitable people were in the South). They also served dessert to the guests instead of a wedding cake, and my chocolate torte with graham cracker crust was just sinful. We left blissfully stuffed.

When we went on our delayed honeymoon last month in the Pacific Northwest, one of the activities we really enjoyed in Seattle was a harbor cruise. It was a fun and relaxing way to see the area and learn more about it. When we moved on to Vancouver, Canada–another town on the water–we chose to do another harbor tour. We used the company Harbour Cruises, which sets sail down right next to the entrance to Stanley Park.

They have several departures throughout the day. We went in the early afternoon, when it was beautiful and sunny out. Our tour was on one of the smaller boats, and it was frustrating that the seating on the top deck was very limited. Our Seattle boat had a massive top level, so anyone who wanted to sit outside could. Here, it filled up quickly, leaving many people stuck inside. Other than that, it was very enjoyable. They serve drinks and snacks on-board and have bathrooms.

We passed by Stanley Park, two major bridges, downtown, BC Place, marinas, a sulfur plant, adorable seals (including a clumsy baby), and even a stunning bald eagle. Our guide taught us about all of the sites we passed by and gave us some insight into local history.  I definitely recommend it if you want to learn more about Vancouver. It was also a nice way to explore the outdoors while giving my legs a break from all of the miles of walking we did every day! Here are some of the photos I took on our hour-long journey:

Our boat, the Constitution

A floating gas station for boats!

A majestic bald eagle

The eco-friendly BC Place (the statue of the Orca was built to look pixilated)

The famous spikes of BC Place and a cruise ship docked there

We saw tons of puddle jumpers take off and land, many going to Victoria

Edge of Stanley Park

A sulfur plant we sailed by

I really enjoyed this harbor cruise tour. There are also many bus tours available in the Vancouver area if you prefer to see it that way.

I’ve played cello since fourth grade and have been obsessive about music practically from birth (thanks Dad!), so I was dying to visit Experience Music Project museum in Seattle when I went there last month. Art and history museums are great, but I loved the idea of a hip museum that celebrates rock ‘n roll and pop culture. The building, designed by Frank O. Gehry, is totally modern and beautifully bizarre. The museum opened in 2000. I enjoyed activities like visiting Pike Place Market, but visiting this museum was one of my favorite things we did.

They were hosting a new Nirvana exhibit called “Nirvana: Taking Punk to the Masses,” which had over 200 artifacts from the band and others in the Pacific Northwest music scene. Whether you like Nirvana or not, it truly was an innovative band at the time that kicked off a grunge movement with a punk vibe that spread nationwide. Even my husband, who hates their music, enjoyed exploring it. Their music truly resonated with me when I was in middle school and high school.

There was a small sound studio you could go into and record a video of yourself explaining how the band affected you, and then the recorded videos played on a screen that everyone could watch. They featured never-before-seen photos of the band, including many candid photos taken of them out having fun. They had video interviews from major musicians talking about Nirvana and how they were influenced by them. There was tons of interesting memorabilia, from record contracts to award statues to Kurt Cobain’s outfits to their instruments.

Jimi Hendrix, a native of the area, had a phenomenal exhibit there. It chronicled his life from beginning to end, and displayed some of his famous outfits, notorious smashed guitars, and memorabilia such as his personal journals. I am a huge fan of his and was obsessed with Woodstock ’69 in my major 1960s music phase in middle school, and seeing the actual guitar on which he played “Star Spangled Banner” made me weak in the knees. The exhibit had videos of the legend playing live shows and of musicians discussing his impact in the music scene.

There was a cool exhibit on guitars that showed the evolution of the instrument, with guitars from every era. I loved observing the evolution of this powerful instrument. The museum also had an interactive music section where you could play electronic drums, play on a keyboard, sing, mix songs, strum guitars, and more. It had an allotted amount of time for each activity so that others could participate, but each was occupied and there were lines, so I didn’t get to do any. The museum randomly doubles as a sci-fi museum, so I also saw a real-life prop from “Battlestar Galactica” on our way out. Here are some of my photos from my visit there:

Outside of Experience Music Project

View of the Space Needle from the outside entrance of EMP

Their massive theater plays music videos non-stop

This amazing pillar of instruments was two storeys tall

The guitar Jimi Hendrix played at Woodstock '69. O.M.G. I almost died on the spot.

A guitar Jimi Hendrix smashed

One of Jimi Hendrix's outfits

Another famous Jimi Hendrix outfit

Jimi Hendrix's journal

Prop from Nirvana's In Utero tour

One of Kurt Cobain's outfits and Nirvana's MTV award

Dave Grohl's drum kit

Nirvana's original record deal with Sub-Pop

Me in heaven

Battlestar Galactica props in the sci-fi part of the museum

When deciding what to do in Seattle, visiting this museum was a total no-brainer. I loved the city and all of the cultural things it had to offer. More west coast travel is definitely in my future.

Have you been to EMP? What did you think?