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Travel

The Top Ten Towns of Colorado

Mountain Village

Today, I take you to Colorado, a state I have visited multiple times. That’s why instead of a simple journal on our latest and fondest experiences in the state this past August, I want to take a step back and name the top ten towns of Colorado you must experience in order from ten to one, one being the best. I base their rank on charm, their pedestrian friendliness, activities, and natural beauty. It was a hard list to make. Sadly, I couldn’t fit Montrose with the Black Canyon and the Curecanti National Recreation Area on the list. But it’s worth a mention.

10. Grand Lake

Of all the towns surrounding the Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park is probably made famous by the movie shining and its proximity to the attractions inside the National Park itself. But I had to pick Grand Lake because of its sheer beauty. The small town, located on a beautiful lake tucked to the west side of the park, offers cute shops and restaurants without tearing you from nature. That’s why it made my pick of the number ten.


9. Aspen

Aspen made the top ten list because not only is the route to the town breathtaking, it offers a bustling downtown, nature hikes, and mountain bike competitions. Not our fondest memory, but we inadvertently got stuck in Aspen because of the ongoing bike tournament when we were there. While in Aspen, take the Silver Queen Gondola up to the Aspen Mountain, where you can enjoy a meal and a view.

8. Keystone

If possible, stay on Lake Keystone and relive the glittering lights I saw around the shimmering waters at night and its sleepy wakefulness in the morning. Five minutes away is the pedestrian River Run Village, where you can enjoy the gushes of Snake River, or take a Gondola up, or eat breakfast at Inxpot, or tread the brick-laced paths. No matter what you choose, the River Run Village in the Keystone area will bring Europe to you. Drive on the road up to Mount Evans while you are there for breathtaking views of the area studded with lakes.

7. Salida

A town snuggled into the heart of Colorado, away from the popular tourist destinations, has a lot to offer to my fond surprise. Take the spiral drive up to view the city and Arkansas River from S Mountain. You can walk along or kayak on the river in the valley town. The downtown will not disappoint either, but that’s not all. Residing on the famous Route 50 of Colorado, each direction on Highway 50 offers a scenic attraction. About twenty minutes west, you will find the Monarch Scenic Tramway with the gift shop that gives free popcorns to all taking the tram, including the woolens you might need in the middle of summer.

So don’t overlook Salida next time you are in Colorado. It’s also close to the Great Sand Dunes National Park.

6. Cortez/Dolores

Removed from the big urban centers, seven hours from Denver, almost six hours from Salt Lake City, eight hours from Las Vegas, and four hours from Albuquerque, NM, you will realize Cortez’s first benefit right away. Cortez is a cross-section in the road, and what you pick can land you in a widely different state, different scenery altogether.

Now consider this: Cortez is fifteen minutes from Mesa Verde National Park, two hours from Monument Valley, Forest Gump Point, three hours from Horseshoe Bend in Arizona, ten minutes from the intersection of four states, home to the sleeping Ute Mountain, minutes from the foothills of San Juan Mountain (home to the top four towns of Colorado on my list), and has several maintained Native Americans cliff dwellings besides Mesa Verde (Escalante Pueblo being my favorite). To top it, Cortez Cultural Center is the epicenter of traditions, dances, stories, and history.

Cortez is the unsung hero of Colorado. Grab breakfast from SilverBean while you are there.

Cortez Cultural Center
Escalante Pueblo
Monument Valley
Sleeping Ute (in our backyard)
Cortez/Dolores

5. Vail

Vail was Colorado’s first pedestrian town I had visited in 2013. My daughter was only eleven weeks old. Without fail, this town will reflect Switzerland in its floral displays, cobbled paths, quaint alleyways, restaurants, shops, big public restrooms in every block. Like Aspen, this, too, is a ski town centrally located in Colorado.

4. Telluride/Mountain Village

Situated in the heart of the San Juan Mountains, two towns connected by free-of-charge gondolas, one pedestrian, both breathtaking, Telluride and Mountain Village is a combo designed in heaven. We visited Telluride this past summer. Telluride has lots of hiking trails, and the one I recommend for families is the Cornett Creek Falls along the brick-colored mountain and a stream to a spectacular end of the waterfall. It provides just enough adventure yet isn’t too taxing.

Parking by the gondolas took a while. You can get out of the gondola at the first stop atop the mountain to hike to views, but we carried on to the Mountain Village: stop number two. Additional gondolas take you to more destinations. The best parts of the Mountain Village were the plazas uniquely named like the sunset, reflection, heritage, etc. We grabbed food from one of the restaurants open for lunch (most open for dinner) and grabbed a stationary, standalone gondola for our very own private cocoons lunch at the Heritage Plaza.

This area is a little away from the other towns in the San Juan Mountains, but that’s its strength. Check out the bookshop and café in Telluride—a great bookstore. But don’t miss my favorite lake of the region, accessible from the road with a maintained parking lot, the Trout Lake, south of Telluride.

Mountain Village
Cornett Falls
Trout Lake

3. Ouray

They call Ouray, hidden in the heart of the Million Dollar Highway, the Switzerland of America. Waterfalls slam down its rocky and muddy cliffs. Flowers flutter through the pots lining the windows. Restaurants are abundant. Coffee shops, too. Must-see attractions include Cascade Falls and the Box Canon.

Follow roadside signs for Box Canon instead of google. Otherwise, you will find yourself on a gravel road with no entry visible into the park. The correct entrance is east of the river beginning at a well-maintained parking lot with a ticket entrance. So if you don’t see that, turn around. Box Canon will offer two hikes. Take both. You can finish here in an hour or two max. One path leads down to the roaring canyon with a waterfall on the inside of the mountain. Brilliant. Up the stairs, the second path leads to a bridge overlooking 360-degree views and a tunnel.

A roadside waterfall worth stopping thunders down the mountain as you leave Ouray going south. While in Ouray, stop at the Otis Hot Spring north of here, noting it’s “clothes optional.” That posed a dilemma for us because we have three little children. But, gladly, we did go, and people, naked or not, minded their own business. It was pristine, and the staff was friendly.

Ouray
Box Canon
Million Dollar Hwy

2. Silverton

Masked with mud roads, laced with its notorious history, and studded with out-of-this-world coffee, ice cream, and funnel cake shops, that’s Silverton. Blair Street flaunts a jail amongst other ancient displays. The animus river here is thundering and roaring. Surrounded by the Molas Lake and Molas Pass, this town is where the Million Dollar Highway begins, leading you to the narrow, high Uncompahgre Gorge with nothing between you and the cliff but a twenty-five-mile speed limit.

1. Durango

Durango is the biggest town in Southwest Colorado, boasting an endless stream of activities and an eclectic array of restaurants. Rafting. Ziplining. Biking along the Animus River. Or sitting down. Historic parks lining the river. Downtown. James Ranch Grill for an organic, pure lunch and farm. The Pinkerton Hot Springs. And when you tire from that, Durango is near Pagosa Springs, Mesa Verde, Cortez, and the San Juan Mountains themselves. It’s the well-rounded offerings that firmly put Durango on the number one spot.

Pinkerton Hot Springs
James Ranch (for lunch)
Bike path is amazing!

There you have it, my top ten Colorado towns. Until next time, it’s me bidding goodbye. Here’s to a more peaceful and safer world.

Mars D. Gill is the author of House of Milk and Cheese and Letters from the Queen. If you are following the release of her third book and life, www.bookofdreams.us is her landing page, the best place to subscribe. If you are already here, you need to do nothing else.

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Travel

When in Montgomery, Alabama, You Must See This

Books. Mars D. Gill

The National Memorial of Peace and Justice. Civil Rights Memorial and vicinity. Riverwalk

Montgomery. A town easy to love, remember, and admire. This capital town has a charm like no other. History rains down its streets like a black and white film. Here is my list of what you must see when you are here.

1. The National Memorial of Peace and Justice

It is free with informative guides to help you around. Carved into its walls is poetry, arisen from the ashes underground are sculptures, or so it seems.

Days earlier, we had read names of soldiers at USS Alabama and Fort Gaines who served during World War II and the civil war. We had wondered if their descendants proudly visited to see the names shining through the plaques. When the thought about family seeing their relatives’ initials at this memorial crossed my mind, sadness boomed. Broken by state and country, engraved in columns are four thousand and four hundred names of those lynched. As you walk amongst the amber metal columns, regret folds and unfolds: why were there so many names? Why did justice take so long?

  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery

2. Downtown Montgomery

Take the easy stroll through downtown Montgomery next. We parked by the Civil Rights Memorial, our first stop. The cherry blossoms swayed overhead as we walked to the first White House of the Confederacy across from their state building. The trek to the Court Square Fountain with sculptures and quotes from Rosa Parks also fits a meal like lunch in one of the many restaurants here like the Irish Pub.

Two blocks away, the Rosa Parks Museum offers tours ranging from forty-five minutes and more with a movie. We bought Rosa Parks biography book for the family and a picture book for my youngest. We then lumbered to Hank Williams Statue leading the footpath under the railway tracks to the Riverfront Park.

  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery
  • Montgomery
    Rosa Parks’ Spirit lives on

3. Riverfront Park

Lastly, to soak in the historic tale of events that shaped America, ponder over the sacrifices of Rosa Parks, who had to eventually move out of Montgomery to Detroit to find a job because she sparked and led revolutionary marches, I simmered under its weight at the riverside park.

Montgomery
Riverfront Park with a Open Concert Stage, Ship, and passing trains

We spent our day well and headed back to Dauphin Island, where we had rented a beach house, just in time for another spectacular sunset. Montgomery shed light on how small I was despite having written HOUSE OF MILK AND CHEESE on the state of race relations in America. My accomplishment was nothing compared to the true heroes, who had to move, die, lose income to bring about equality. We have ways to go, but we are here because of them. Montgomery, well spent!

Announcement: HOUSE OF MILK AND CHEESE is launching early, this weekend, Mother’s Day Weekend, May 8, 2021. Catch me LIVE on YouTube and/or Facebook. If you join, comment to let me know, and you can win a FREE AUTOGRAPHED copy.

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Travel

Seven Reasons Why You Must Visit Dauphin Island Now

Historic Town. Secluded White Sand Beaches. Bellingrath Gardens.

Affectionately called the unluckiest island in America, compared to Earth’s other endangered spaces like the Glacier National Park, Dauphin Island hides its secrets close to its chest. When you step into the island, your imagination can smell the gunpowder from the civil war, feel it in the swells of the air that this place has seen and endured. An island unlike any other we had been to before, here is why you, too, should experience its uniqueness:

1. History and Fort Gaines
“Damn the Torpedoes” are the famous words sculpted into the walls of Fort Gaines. French Louisiana Territory’s capital, ruled by so many nations: French, British, Spanish, the island has seen the vessels of slaves docking at its harbors, the US navy winning the civil war against the confederate ships at sea, the soldiers treading its cobbled paths during World War II. Repeatedly battered by hurricanes that have threatened its existence, stories ring from its shores. Hurricane Katrina destroyed 450 of the 500 homes of the west end sixteen years after hurricane Frederic destroyed the bridge connecting it to the mainland. Now with a fancy rebuilt bridge and new homes, the island symbolizes resilience. Our newly built, modern rental had the fresh wood smell intact, overlooking the bridge and quieter northern side of the island. Away from the strip, an elementary school slows the traffic, the vegetation thickens. Giant trees sprawl the landscape, rekindling the memory of greenery known to Hawaii. For Fort Gaines, reserve an hour. Ferries run between Fort Gaines and Fort Morgan on the other side of the bay.


2. Wildlife and Audubon Bird Sanctuary
Dauphin Island provides the first rest stop for birds crossing the oceans, why it has so many bird sanctuaries. On one evening, rain and wind slapped both shores, sealing us at home over a Kahoot game and lavish dinner when the pelicans swooped and sailed over the turbulent sea. They seemed so comfortable in the arms of the storm.
Audubon Bird Sanctuary: We visited the Audubon Bird Sanctuary on another evening to gain more steps. A rooster greeted us at the well-shaded parking lot and trail. Though we didn’t catch an alligator, we spotted bright lemony birds and countless turtles in the lake. The prevalent serenity grows a prayer in your heart and calms your spirit. The trail leads to a south-facing beach where my children’s unfettered enthusiasm broke into high jumps, tall sandy mounds, deep canyons, and endless giggles. And I discovered my second book’s title as my fingers bowed to the evening sun and wrote House of Milk and Cheese on the sand.
You can walk across the trails in a half-hour, but I recommend an hour to two here to relax. I understand now why the residents and the mayor is protective of this oasis. We, too, can protect Dauphin Island’s vulnerable shores by reducing our footprint on the environment and slowing the raging oceans.

3. Origin and Indian Shell Mound Park
Did you know that Dauphin Island was once called the Massacre Island? When the founder of French Louisiana Territory first discovered the island, he stumbled across skeletons and named it the Massacre Island. But not a blood bath a Mississippian burial mound had broken open from a hurricane. So they rightly renamed the island to Dauphin, which not only rhymes with Dolphin, it means Dolphin in French though the namesake is after Louis XIV’s descendant.
Nonetheless, the Native American burial ground remains on the island. I didn’t see any Teepees or graves, but the park provided another shady, pristine fifteen minute walk through the woods.

4. Escape and the Pristine White Sands
To sink your feet into powdery white sand and leave an imprint, to walk solo uninterrupted for miles, to not slink shoulders, or deflect smoke from a crowd partying on a beach leaves you with a strange sense of ownership. It’s like you own the sand beneath your feet, the breeze on your face, the trees, the pelicans swooping on the water, and the cargo ships sailing into the horizon. The solitude at an island where you can see both sides of the ocean can tear into a spirit, weigh you down with a deep sense of loneliness, and leave you with hours to dwell on life. Experience it, and you will meet yourself on the other side.

5. Flowers and the Bellingrath Gardens
While Dauphin Island provides relaxation from the burnt-out, overworked existence I and my husband lead, the gardens at the mouth of the island sprinkle a dash of sweetness. On the first day, we checked out Fort Gaines in the morning, followed by this stop. I learned that Bellingrath was the first Coco-Cola bottler in the area. He has left behind his mansion featuring fancy china that we didn’t see from the inside. But the gardens delight with the Fowl River, Bamboo trees, lakes, and endless sprays of color. Two hours fit neatly here though you can spend the entire day. The leisure stroll will make you hungry, so plan accordingly.

6. Food and Mobile, Alabama
You can’t miss Mobile if visiting Dauphin. USS Alabama, the plazas for Spain, UK, Dauphin Street, Church Street, the fountains, and emerald parks are a hallmark of Mobile. It’s possible to see this in one day. USS Alabama stop, which features the warship and the submarine, requires at least 2-3 hours. When at Dauphin street, try the cappuccino and Mango smoothie from Serda Coffee and Blackened Chicken Alfredo from Wintzells Oyster House. Food options are endless in Mobile. If in the mood for Indian, Biriyani Pot didn’t disappoint. Their daal and biriyani were good.

7. Location. Location. Location.
 Dauphin Island’s location is an ideal distance away from Mobile, Bamahenge, and surrounding sculptures, Montgomery, and New Orleans to plan day trips. The island runs east to west, which allows for laidback sunset and sunrise, lining each side of the day.

So visit this gem. I leave with a few tips if you make it here. A gas station and series of restaurants are present on the island. But check their hours as the island exudes a laidback culture. You can find simple items like pizza and black coffee in the evening, but the breakfast places with specialty warm beverages shut early. Before taking the ferry, please check their Facebook page. They can quite frequently cancel rides owing to weather or inspections. But we made it on our third attempt after confirming online. The ferry accommodates about eighteen cars on a first-come-first-served basis. Arrive twenty to thirty minutes early at a minimum. That’s all I have on Dauphin Island. Next time, we travel to Montgomery.

House of Milk and Cheese is coming out on May 22nd. I hope you can join the launch and win the raffle.

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Travel

Southwest Pennsylvania: The Colors of Life and Fall

We experienced southwest Pennsylvania in the middle of October 2020 at the peak of Fall.

Like cotton candy, the trees had ballooned in rainbow colors, blanketing the mountains and the valleys. I and my family were traversing the COVID-19 year, where our travel and social life had catapulted into an unrecognizable, indefinite end. And our blessings, being the five of us together, propelled us on the road. Our destination was a rural town named Somerset, Pennsylvania. Besides the Fall colors, jutted from the street sides and homes signs of political affiliations—heavily leaning on one side. For days of us roaming the streets, every dwelling, every shop flew Trump flags, building covers, yard signs, some mocking the President’s challenger with eye-popping insults. Loud honking processions cut off roads and changed our plans in an ostentatious display of allegiance.

Frankly, we weren’t here to observe and report on politics. We expect the same from any getaway—to forget our ailments and embrace the novelty of new scenes, new people, and local food—even in election year.

Luckily, the natural beauty delivered on its promise.

With the vibrant colors, we drifted to the Rock City, where we crawled deep into the hilly crevices; a carpet of leaves painted our paths orange, and red, yellow, green, brown covered our heads—our favorite hike in Cooper’s Rock State Park of West Virginia.

Our second favorite was the hike from the parking lot to the falls in McConnells Mill State Park in Pennsylvania. There’s something peaceful about sitting next to a whispering river reflecting yellow leaves, with tree droppings floating by.

A vast majority of our time, we spent quarantining in our beautiful rental home atop the Hidden Valley. Children played with new toys. Their excitement showed they were just like adults—excited about novelty.

After four days of Fall photography and rest, we returned home to an uncertain future. I was editing Land of Dreams, readying it for a final beta review. The precarious future didn’t fool us this time into thinking things would get better. A month later, though, it got better—about 156 million people voted. Both sides showed up. And democracy worked. Life’s seldom about winning. It’s about getting your voice heard and feel like you matter. The election is over. Life carries on. And there is the hope of the next vacation, next outlet.

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#7. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. The Way Home

Home was twenty-two hours East of Montana.

At six in the morning, we pulled out of our condo that had sheltered us for five nights. Dawn fulfilled its promise of vibrant colors through the drive out of Anaconda to Butte where we stopped for coffee and breakfast.

Dawn

We drove under floating hot air balloons, by the babbling Yellowstone River to our unscheduled bathroom stop at a Rest Area which turned out to be a humble dose of history on Bozeman Trail where local tribes killed a traveling father and son while they camped.

As we left Montana and ventured deeper into the Northern Cheyenne reservation, fast moving motorcycles appeared. They stayed with us to the suburb of Rapid City where we refueled, wondering where the motorcycles were headed. That night as we called it a night at Chamberlain, SD, overlooking the Missouri River from our hotel on a hill, the motorcyclists, more than 400, 000 of them, converged in Sturgis, SD, a city we had crossed on the way. Later, on September 2, 2020, first Covid-19 death was reported from that event. At least 260 cases (those who agreed to testing) countrywide contracted covid from here. It was surreal to realize how close we had gotten ourselves to them. Not that we are the types to ignore medical professionals. But we were on the road. To be free, you must be alive, a concept lost to some.

We had stopped in the evening at the Chapel in the Hills located in Rapid City, not too far from Sturgis.

  • Missouri River view from hotel
  • Chapel in the Hill
Dusk

Next morning, with breakfast to go, we set our eyes on our home and drove east. Our pit stop today was at the Sioux Falls, SD.

  • Whatever entertains
  • Dawn

We made it home in daylight. I wish I remembered what I felt, what we spoke about, but all I knew was we were home. We were lucky. We were blessed. Thank you, God, for giving me a perspective to see so much beauty and live this life.

This marks the final blog in the “Chasing Memories” series to Montana. If you like this, please subscribe (click on follow button in lower right corner) with your email here at www.bookofdreams.us. You will automatically enter a RAFFLE to win my upcoming book, Land of Dreams.

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#6. From Dawn to Dusk: Chasing Memories. Gates of Mountains

The last full day in Montana descended upon us.

  • what a view to wake up to
Dawn

Today, we drove north via Helena to Canyon Ferry Lake where children played on its rocky shores. When I spotted a golden snake behind a boulder while trying to find a place to sit, the children unwilling to leave hopped back into the car. Unintended catalyst but intended outcome.

Canyon Ferry Lake

Our last Lewis and Clark spot involved the Gates of Mountains where boat tours left at the top of the hour, none carrying us, only fifty other brave souls. Since no private tours were offered, we snapped a photo and left. Gates of the Mountains marks the place where the Lewis and Clark journey, sailing west on Missouri River, ended when they hit the Rockies. They termed the range as Gates of Mountains to signify their impenetrable force.

  • Gates of Mountains
  • McDonald Pass

We returned to our rental well in time today via McDonald Pass where the thunderous new look of the Georgetown Lake graced us. We packed and loaded our car, and I buried myself reading two books: Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine and Sin and Syntax.

  • Dinner

All journeys end. Last year we had ended our diverse vacation to UK (England, Wales, Scotland) and Iceland. Despite it being one of our best trips, we were ready to return from it. Montana felt short—too short. I wanted to linger in its valleys. It had slipped between my fingers like a movie that ended prematurely.  And the future was as precarious as ever. But I’d to return to nipping and budding of my forthcoming book: Land of Dreams. And this writer had refilled her chest of imagination, inspiration, thanks to the big sky country of Montana.

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#1. From Dusk to Dawn: Chasing Memories. To Wyoming.

One could argue, it began when we harnessed our suitcases to our minivan’s roof, or you could argue, it sprang in the mind when we fueled our unrest and decided to brave Covid-19, embarking on a road trip unlike any we had undertaken before. Not the original trip we had planned earlier, much shorter, we aimed to drive a thousand miles through the night, cutting west in our minivan. A wild experiment.

First oddity, we couldn’t nap at will before our evening departure. Second, we pulled over twice in our first hour itself because the carrier flaps kept banging on the roof. Coffee in hand, I drove the first shift. Sunset blasted colors onto the open sky. My youngest confirmed multiple times if the Sun would indeed set. And when darkness shrouded our surroundings, he attempted to measure how much time the Sun would take to paint the sky blue again. Luckily, he slept along with the other two.

  • On the way . . .
  • Chasing the Sun into the night
Dusk

I found driving on the dark freeway easier than expected, but the heaviness of fatigue, the tightness of the neck muscles, the tingling of the heart manifested reminding us rudely we’d aged—no longer the crazy college graduates who could mimic machines and drive like that, we were gracing the forties. We switched driving around midnight. But when sleep reeled me in, rain pounded on the windscreen. At first, its drum roll comforted me, but soon, another sound mixed in, a crunching, cracking disturbance, anything but a pitter-patter lullaby known to rain. Not a shard of sleep graced my eyes during my “sleep shift” as midnight blended into two in the morning. That’s when we pulled over into a rest area. Our carrier had ripped. While the rain had ceased for good, water seeped inside, and cramped space inside the car offered few opportunities. So I blamed the carrier for my night-driving experiment to bomb.

At the ungodly hour, no stores had doors opened to exchange the broken carrier. Allowed to park for three hours at the rest stop, we could have slept, sure the mountain time zone would grant us an additional hour, and we would reach Badlands at dawn’s first glimmer. But when worry grips the heart, sleep flees. So the second shift driver, aka my husband, pulled out of the rest area without a drop of rest, the carrier still broken, its rip enlarging and its sound menacing. When Sun cut through the horizon, children awoke and fatigue now had crunched my every fiber, every molecule. A yawn, too, couldn’t help. We switched driving at a gas station, and the brilliant, Godly moment of five-forty brought us to Badlands. As the “Orange Sun,” as my youngest terms it, reared its head above Badland’s jagged, rugged, and dusty terrain, my children bubbled with excitement. I learned that despite them, too, realizing we had loathed driving through the night, children adapted to hardships and changes with a flick of an eye.

  • The Sun found us
Dawn

We folded a seat under in our Pacifica and hauled the overhead luggage into the car cramping my daughter, the rearmost passenger. Through stiffness, we exited badlands. When I pulled into a coffee Kiosk in Rapid City, Alaska’s sweet memory enlightened my heart—the pristine place that had first introduced us to the cute, mini coffee drive-through huts. That cup of coffee, my friends, enabled me to drive my shift without incident to Mount Rushmore (from the outside) and Custer State Park’s Needle Tunnel. When we were there, coincidently, we also heard the news our president dreamed they carved his face next to the current four presidents on Mt. Rushmore, and I thought about Crazy Horse, the Native American hero (from Black Hills,) his monument, still incomplete due to no funding.

So our wakeful night driving on I-90 West had passed. When my husband began driving the last shift, the car’s hum resembled an airplane’s growl as though carrying me across the globe to India. As South Dakota’s Black Hills receded and Wyoming’s dull desert loomed, the temperature hit late nineties, and the air conditioner fell short of comfort. Long sighs, whines from children, and my straight face carried us to our hotel at two o’clock of the afternoon at Buffalo, Wyoming. Our duration of being on the road lasted from 5:15 p.m. the previous evening to 2:45 p.m. CST that Saturday. We thanked our stars for the early check in, disinfected the room, stripped their comforters (we brought our own), showered, and crashed like no tomorrow existed. We awoke to eat our preordered pizza—a faint memory—because we slept right afterward, only a fresh sunrise awakened us the next morning.

Trivia:

Buffalo, Wyoming. Population ~ 9000 (Similar to our tiny Chicago Suburb but a fraction of neighboring suburbs like Palatine, Schaumburg, IL.)

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non-fiction Travel

Iceland Chronicles #2 – Sleeping in Wilderness – Final Chapter

Day 3 of Iceland

Today was the last day of Northern Iceland. We bid goodbye to Akyrurei and Dettifoss Waterfall, the most powerful waterfall in Europe, accessible by the two-mile walk in the barren, rocky surroundings of the canyon, was our first stop of many. For lunch, we took a detour to the only cafe in a hundred miles of drive west, delivering to us a rustic, photogenic recluse from the maddening crowd. Light lunch and coffee became secondary to imbibing the region’s remoteness.
Midway, the children slept, and the mountains adorned cascading steps, tumbling into lakes and oceans. The camera failed to capture the enigma. At 6 p.m., dinner again proved to be too expensive at Hofn. After the last meal of the day, we stopped at the Hoffesjokul glacier. God blessed us with solitude and the ability to lose the overflowing tourists of Iceland. Only two other couples accompanied our sunset stop.
We scheduled our night at the Brunnsholl Guesthouse, right at the foothill of the glacier. Our entry into the hotel was blocked by cows being ushered into the adjoining field as though foreshadowing our slow descent into a deeper solitude. There’s something about time spent with animals, glaciers, mountains, and the ocean—an unspoken, wordless enigma. Tonight, we left the drapes open. We were tourists, doing things we normally didn’t. Removing the night patches and the darkness of our rooms, we welcomed the sunshine of an Arctic nation with time on vacation slipping from beneath our fingers. It wasn’t so much the destination, we were sad to leave, but each other’s company, a joy of being with people we loved, lacking the stress and strife of a corporate world we worked at.

Day 4 of Iceland

On the second to last day in Iceland, we drove southeast from Hofn that was studded by one glacier after another. After Jokulsaren, the hike to the Skaftafell glacier was little over a mile. Our hard work was rewared by the meeting of a lagoon, river, and a glacier.
We posed under rainbows under the Skogafoss waterfall before hitting the Black Beach for whale watching and dinner. This night was a first. The cows at Hofn had forewarned us that deeper rural experience was coming up. Tonight, we slept in the open country in a tent with heated blankets. Meays of sheep were audible through out the night, and the pitter-patter of rain over our tent sang a sweet lullaby. I woke up early to rush my littlest across the tents to the bathroom, worried not having a bathroom would regress his potty training. It all worked out. We checked camping off our list. Furnished camping but camping, nonetheless.


Day 5 of Iceland

Although I was tired having to sleep in one position to stay warm, it was a new day, and novel experiences awaited us. First stop was Seljalandsfoss Waterfall where all went behind the waterfall (except me). After Kerid Crater we ate at another farm and returned to the secret Iceland hot springs hot bath. For dinner we ate at an Indian restaurant in Reykjavik–but coming from India, food wasn’t authentic Indian. Their photos were nice, but they too had been purchased, showing strangers.

Day 6 – Fly Back Day

Last day was upon us, and we were hungry for home. We drove out west today to kill a few hours. Looking homeward, it’s impossible to wander forever. At some point, the lost find meaning and return. So, here we were richer in experience, meaning, and bringing home gifts no one could see but our hearts.

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non-fiction Travel

Iceland Chronicles #1 – The Limit of Remoteness

From the plane

On the way back from UK, we made a pit stop at Iceland. Okay, it wasn’t a pit stop, more like six days.

Day 1

The first full day in Iceland, we set off toward Akuryeri. Gulfoss Falls was the highlight today, its thunder only stolen by packed crowd and the shocking chilliness of Iceland summer. We had to stock up on winter gear for an eye-popping amount. Iceland was a wallet-emptying at a super-sonic rate type of a vacation, not something I can afford again. So, everything I saw, I took it in like it was last time I was seeing it. Here are the photos from the first day in remote Iceland.

  • From the plane
  • A brief history (airport)
  • Geyser
  • Gullfoss
  • Akyureri

Day 2

Second day delivered diversity. We started with Godafoss Falls – Waterfall of God where we spent a half hour. To learn about viking history, we visited the Laufas Museum where we saw an ancient Viking home featuring a bride’s room, a weaving room, and a study room where they met with the priest. With a dose of nature and ancient civilization, we ate a nice lunch at the Vogafjos Farm to prep for the upcoming hike. Sitting next to pregnant cows in cells eating was not refreshing, but children were entertained and questioned their love of beef burger over a lunch of beef burgers. Next, we were off trekking atop a crater in drizzle. Undeterred, Mir and I counted to keep walking and not give up. Atop, under my umbrella, we sat overlooking the crater. This followed by Dimmuborgir where we saw troll caves and lava formations, followed by Lake Viti in Krafla, my favorite stop. It was raining now, and Mir was sleeping, so we took turns here and at the Hot Sulpher pool and Namajfell which is volcanic hot pools and geysir. At 4:30 p.m., no longer able to kill time, we made it early for our most important appointment of the day – Myvatn (pronounced MeeVath) Nature Baths. Rain fell on the hot pool, turning into steam. The floor of the pool was slippery with Silica. After splurging beyond toleration, unsure if we were any younger looking, for sure I was totally dehydrated. Scrumptous Pizza at Daddi’s pizza wrapped our day. Both nights we stayed at Rjupa’s (pronounced Ryupa’s) guest house where Agnes Thorun (pronounced Ukhnes) took care of my children and gave me tips to stay safe and away from the F roads.

  • No better way to end a day
  • Laufas Museum
  • Godafoss
  • Lake Viti

Stay tuned for more Iceland adventures

Categories
non-fiction Travel

UK Chronicles – Scotland

Day 6 – Scotland Highlands

Day 6 of being away from home with just the five of us was in full swing which meant that we were getting a lot of time together–children had fights, resolved fights, had new ones, and above everything else invented new games to play together. A vacation is the ultimate bonding experience. And no bonding is complete without colliding first. Getting to know one another again breathing the moist Scottish air was recharging.

This morning, my three-year-old wanted to climb another mountain. I delivered. Conic Hill in the Loch Lomond and the Trossachs national park. Besides the vertical nature of the climb we were accompanied by the Meays of cows and on occasion, its cousin–smell of animal poop. In Scotland if you smell it, know you are in good company of lots and lots of sheep, cows, and horses. Atop our viewpoint, we had to tread carefully too. Oh the joys of traveling.
Lunch and icecream were at a riverside town called Callander. We undertook the journey to Loch Veil’s mirror sculpture with one aim – to skip the touristy lochs for quieter retreat. It was a quiet retreat.
The drive to our hotel (separated from us by a ferry) was spectacular featuring viaducts, the Ranooch Moor (Harry Potter movie location)…We wanted to be where we were longer instead of some place else so we skipped Hagrids hut altogether. Here are photo memories of Scottish Highlands on day 6.

  • Loch Lomond atop Conic Hill
  • By the Mirror Sculpture
  • What a view from the room!
  • Our landing place, accessible only through Ferry
  • Oh, the Scottish Lochs!

Day 7 – The Yellow Warning Day

Rain drenched Scotland was as riveting as the sunny one. Today we chose a back country road to the Glenfinnian Viaduct lookout and the monument (Harry Potter stops continue). Rain ceased during our hike. On yet another ferry we made it to the Isle of Skye in pouring rain. It took us entire day to take it all in–wet while going, sunnier and drier on the way back.

Day 8 – Through Urqhuart and Cairngorms back to the lowlands

Again, we woke before the town, spent time in their library/recreation room, ate breakfast, and headed out the door taking ferry away from the Inn at Ardgour for the last time, leaving sweet memories behind.
Today, we drove north to Loch Ness where my children disbelieved the Nessie monster legend. I couldn’t use it as a discipline stick. Too bad. But the presentation and the castle itself was awesome. I was saddened by its brutal history, the sheer number of attacks and the change of inhabitants. Truth is stranger than fiction. Later, we drove through Inverness, the capital of the highlands, and the Cairngorms National Park.

Before Glasgow we made a pit stop at Falkirk Park with sculptures and playgrounds for children, thanks to the expert tip from Ilene, my writer friend.

Day 9 and 10 – The City Life

Glasgow – the party town.
We rented a three bedroom unit in the heart of Glasgow. Being mentally ready and being thoroughly exhausted combined with drinking a glass of pink wine helped me sleep through the night in Glasgow where people screamed, cheered, and laughed into the night. Hey, call me boring–I need my good night sleep. I’m not a good person at 3 a.m. And we are early risers.
At 8 am, next morning, Glasgow was unrecognizable. It was a ghost town. We couldn’t find one open restaurant that could fill our empty bellies and settled for Costa coffee and buns.
An hour’s drive away, Edinburgh was truly and madly washed out. Pics here are of the castle, the royal mile (some of it), the garden clock and the restaurant we ate at with soaking wet feet and shoes.
We called it a night and next morning enjoyed the Buchanan street and Enoch Square before flying out to Iceland. We did miss the traditional dance and dresses of Scotland but took what ever it gave to us.

Pictures below are in random order from Falkirk, Edinburgh, and Glasgow.

One thing the trip gave my children was a sense of responsibility. Dua lined our shoes along the wall; she helped clean the apartment and Sahir the rental car before returning. And for that intrinsic motivation, I am thankful for this experience. Goodbye Scotland. Goodbye UK. So long.

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