With Gratitude +
Our Top 5 Moments of 2018
We enjoy this time of year when we are allowed to look back over the past 365 days. It serves as an opportunity to see what we've done right, what we've done wrong, and how we can improve as storytellers and travelers in the coming year.
These things we know for sure: we're not getting any younger; our bags are getting heavier; the list is getting longer; and the dreams aren't stopping. And with those realizations driving tomorrow, we figure, we need to get busy!
With that in mind, we are grateful for the pathways we have been able to walk this year. Both personal and professional milestones have been accomplished, ties have been cut and new partnerships built, and Len and I (in our own particular medium) feel we've grown as storytellers, photographers and human beings. We noticed a commonality between every destination whether it be far away or close to home; oddly enough, we didn't realize until this very moment when choosing our best. This year's adventures had more to do with us and our individual journeys than the places we visited. Whether it was the years of planning involved (NEVER GIVE UP on a lead), the endless research to find the perfect fit (RESEARCH trumps everything), the discovery of remembrances locked deep inside (NEVER FORGET), or the joy of realizing that truths comes in all forms (from PULPIT to ASHES), 2019 has opened our eyes to the wonders yet to uncover.
We thank you for traveling with us, and in the coming years, you'll remain close by our side. This is our BEST of 2018.
These things we know for sure: we're not getting any younger; our bags are getting heavier; the list is getting longer; and the dreams aren't stopping. And with those realizations driving tomorrow, we figure, we need to get busy!
With that in mind, we are grateful for the pathways we have been able to walk this year. Both personal and professional milestones have been accomplished, ties have been cut and new partnerships built, and Len and I (in our own particular medium) feel we've grown as storytellers, photographers and human beings. We noticed a commonality between every destination whether it be far away or close to home; oddly enough, we didn't realize until this very moment when choosing our best. This year's adventures had more to do with us and our individual journeys than the places we visited. Whether it was the years of planning involved (NEVER GIVE UP on a lead), the endless research to find the perfect fit (RESEARCH trumps everything), the discovery of remembrances locked deep inside (NEVER FORGET), or the joy of realizing that truths comes in all forms (from PULPIT to ASHES), 2019 has opened our eyes to the wonders yet to uncover.
We thank you for traveling with us, and in the coming years, you'll remain close by our side. This is our BEST of 2018.
5. A Snowball's Chance: Charlevoix, Quebec & Travel Classics
It was an outside the box experience. It was an outside our league experience.
Travel Classics has always been a dream. Meeting twice a year in a national and international location, it was an exclusive opportunity to meet the best editors from the most read publications in the world, a chance for a face-to-face that, hopefully, would create a long-term working relationship. The conference was the meat-and-potatoes; however, Montreal and Quebec were the icing on the cake.
We began our journey in Quebec City, immersing us in the flair for everything French. I quickly came to the conclusion that my high school French was gone. From there, we traveled to Charlevoix (our favorite hands down) where even in May, we reveled in the snow-covered landscape, making a Southern gal realize that the impossible is possible. We met the creator of the "crooked" meat pie (story to follow) on the I'Isle-aux-Courdes and allowed our taste buds to romp along the Quebec's Flavour Trail. We must confess our Tadoussac zodiac adventure (even in May) proved passengers need more than a head-to-toe covering to escape the rough and frigid waters of the St. Lawrence River; soon, the calm waters of the Saguenay Fjord allowed us to catch our breath. We readied the Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu for the Heads of State (who would be there within weeks) for the G7 Summit. Oh, how you will fall in love with this luxury. Food delighted us in Quebec; however, the contemporary tastes and talents proved challenging in Montreal. Felicia Corbeil-L'abbe presented her world with such charm that we planned prospective trips in our head.
Back to Montreal for our journey's purpose. We, being the wee tadpoles in the massive pond, waded through AARP, Private Clubs, BBC, Coastal Living, National Geographic, and more; to our amazement, editors were interested and follow-ups were in the works. As time passed, we realized that the face-to-face was the easy part, the meeting. The follow-up and the consistency proved difficult at best; zeroing in on the needs of publications often times depends on market fluctuations and editor's most-wanted list. Many times, our travels and their wants weren't the same. But, we keep and will keep pitching.
Our introduction to Montreal included amazing architecture, a melting pot of cultures, and Len's remembrance of Expo '67, Man and his World. Unlike the young ones, Len reigned as king of the Expo trivia questions. From a multitude of murals that serve as a city canvas to the diversity of foods and culture to the beauty of our second Fairmont experience, this UNESCO City of Design overflowed with opportunity.
This adventure tested our resolve to do what we thought could not be done, swim with the big fish. There's much more to learn in order to keep from drowning, but with one article down, we're counting this experience as a favorable beginning.
Travel Classics has always been a dream. Meeting twice a year in a national and international location, it was an exclusive opportunity to meet the best editors from the most read publications in the world, a chance for a face-to-face that, hopefully, would create a long-term working relationship. The conference was the meat-and-potatoes; however, Montreal and Quebec were the icing on the cake.
We began our journey in Quebec City, immersing us in the flair for everything French. I quickly came to the conclusion that my high school French was gone. From there, we traveled to Charlevoix (our favorite hands down) where even in May, we reveled in the snow-covered landscape, making a Southern gal realize that the impossible is possible. We met the creator of the "crooked" meat pie (story to follow) on the I'Isle-aux-Courdes and allowed our taste buds to romp along the Quebec's Flavour Trail. We must confess our Tadoussac zodiac adventure (even in May) proved passengers need more than a head-to-toe covering to escape the rough and frigid waters of the St. Lawrence River; soon, the calm waters of the Saguenay Fjord allowed us to catch our breath. We readied the Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu for the Heads of State (who would be there within weeks) for the G7 Summit. Oh, how you will fall in love with this luxury. Food delighted us in Quebec; however, the contemporary tastes and talents proved challenging in Montreal. Felicia Corbeil-L'abbe presented her world with such charm that we planned prospective trips in our head.
Back to Montreal for our journey's purpose. We, being the wee tadpoles in the massive pond, waded through AARP, Private Clubs, BBC, Coastal Living, National Geographic, and more; to our amazement, editors were interested and follow-ups were in the works. As time passed, we realized that the face-to-face was the easy part, the meeting. The follow-up and the consistency proved difficult at best; zeroing in on the needs of publications often times depends on market fluctuations and editor's most-wanted list. Many times, our travels and their wants weren't the same. But, we keep and will keep pitching.
Our introduction to Montreal included amazing architecture, a melting pot of cultures, and Len's remembrance of Expo '67, Man and his World. Unlike the young ones, Len reigned as king of the Expo trivia questions. From a multitude of murals that serve as a city canvas to the diversity of foods and culture to the beauty of our second Fairmont experience, this UNESCO City of Design overflowed with opportunity.
This adventure tested our resolve to do what we thought could not be done, swim with the big fish. There's much more to learn in order to keep from drowning, but with one article down, we're counting this experience as a favorable beginning.
4. A Life With Purpose: Jimmy Carter
He said quite adamantly as he leaned on the communion table for balance, "If you don't have a life with purpose, it's your own fault."
It was as if Jimmy Carter was channeling Juette Hill (aka mama). There's not much to be said about this generation other than they are usually right. They have seen things. They have heard things. And they will show and tell us if we're willing to listen.
Most of my life, I didn't listen. Today, I did.
On this August Sunday morning, I needed this message almost as much as I needed air to breathe.
Oddly enough, travel seizes upon moments and teaches lessons. Thank you, President Carter.
It was as if Jimmy Carter was channeling Juette Hill (aka mama). There's not much to be said about this generation other than they are usually right. They have seen things. They have heard things. And they will show and tell us if we're willing to listen.
Most of my life, I didn't listen. Today, I did.
On this August Sunday morning, I needed this message almost as much as I needed air to breathe.
Oddly enough, travel seizes upon moments and teaches lessons. Thank you, President Carter.
3. A Powerful Story: Donald Davis
I sat about mid-way underneath the massive tent. Storyteller Donald Davis took the stage as the headliner, and it was as if nothing else in the world existed. Eyes glued. Laughs erupted. Tears flowed. After about 45 minutes into his story, I knew he was near the end. All the elements of a story has been checked off, and the tale headed toward its climax. Sadly, there was only one ending possible to his love story, but the next thing, I didn't see coming.
When I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a little ribbon-tied cloth pouch, I gasped. No, it can't be, but it was. I examined the front for Len and found him, and then my tearful eyes returned to Davis. He lifted the small pouch chest-high, pulled apart the top, released its contents and flakes of ash floated to the ground. "Don't be afraid if she gets on you. She'd like that."
Davis told the beautiful love story of how he met his wife, swept her off her feet, and spent the decades traveling around the world telling stories until cancer had other plans. Only months before, he had said goodbye to the love of his life, and then he confessed she had never left, for when you love someone that much, she never leaves.
I lost it. And so did everyone in the crowd. At the end, I pushed forward and searched above the crowd until Len's face came into view. I moved directly toward him and fell into his arms. Simultaneously, tears flowed, and we said, "We want that."
As long as I live, I'll remember that moment when Donald Davis lovingly cascaded his wife's ashes into the crowd at the Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee, and I realized that's the way I want to go out!
When I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a little ribbon-tied cloth pouch, I gasped. No, it can't be, but it was. I examined the front for Len and found him, and then my tearful eyes returned to Davis. He lifted the small pouch chest-high, pulled apart the top, released its contents and flakes of ash floated to the ground. "Don't be afraid if she gets on you. She'd like that."
Davis told the beautiful love story of how he met his wife, swept her off her feet, and spent the decades traveling around the world telling stories until cancer had other plans. Only months before, he had said goodbye to the love of his life, and then he confessed she had never left, for when you love someone that much, she never leaves.
I lost it. And so did everyone in the crowd. At the end, I pushed forward and searched above the crowd until Len's face came into view. I moved directly toward him and fell into his arms. Simultaneously, tears flowed, and we said, "We want that."
As long as I live, I'll remember that moment when Donald Davis lovingly cascaded his wife's ashes into the crowd at the Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee, and I realized that's the way I want to go out!
2. Welcome to Christmas: Cologne, Germany
For two years, we had been anticipating those fabulous European Christmas markets during our Viking River Cruise. From Amsterdam to Basel, the cities energized us with the warmth of the holidays. Longing to unwrap Christmas once more, we ached for twinkling lights, strong mulled wine, the convergence of the entire community uniting over food and stuff, all in the name of joy and festivity.
And as life sometimes does, reality turns out rather differently than our expectations. The gloomy weather and misting rain floated down the Rhine River much like our ship. We were booked for a full day's tour of Strasbourg - our final day of the trip - to shop our hearts out at one of the best Christmas markets in Europe; instead, terrorists attacked and killed shoppers at the markets the day before our ship docked in Strasbourg. Understandably, we discovered Strasbourg through bus windows.
It wasn't until the end that we realized we might have missed our goal. We had missed Christmas.
And then, I remembered our brief stop in Cologne, Germany.
Days earlier, we had docked in Cologne a little before schedule and had a short time to walk into the city before our evening excursion. We bundled up and turned left along the river's edge, and then I heard Bing. "White Christmas" floated right up to me, immediately drawing tears to the surface. Whether it was my usual baffling demeanor of crying at the drop of a hat or the inexorable joy of those markets coming into view, I had found Christmas. Len and I weaved through the stalls, past the curling, around the ice-skating rink, and found our mulled wine. I walked right up to the man, and of the twenty different choices, I had no clue of the one I required. I went with the only English words I could read. "Mulled wine with rum."
Walking back to the ship with my emptied souvenir mulled wine mug (Len drank his portion; after a few sips, he downed mine, too), I realized that this would an acquired taste, and one that might take some time. Although our market experience was brief, I felt the magic, the pulsating rhythm of joy and wonder.
It would be my beginning of a lifetime love affair with Christmas in Europe.
And as life sometimes does, reality turns out rather differently than our expectations. The gloomy weather and misting rain floated down the Rhine River much like our ship. We were booked for a full day's tour of Strasbourg - our final day of the trip - to shop our hearts out at one of the best Christmas markets in Europe; instead, terrorists attacked and killed shoppers at the markets the day before our ship docked in Strasbourg. Understandably, we discovered Strasbourg through bus windows.
It wasn't until the end that we realized we might have missed our goal. We had missed Christmas.
And then, I remembered our brief stop in Cologne, Germany.
Days earlier, we had docked in Cologne a little before schedule and had a short time to walk into the city before our evening excursion. We bundled up and turned left along the river's edge, and then I heard Bing. "White Christmas" floated right up to me, immediately drawing tears to the surface. Whether it was my usual baffling demeanor of crying at the drop of a hat or the inexorable joy of those markets coming into view, I had found Christmas. Len and I weaved through the stalls, past the curling, around the ice-skating rink, and found our mulled wine. I walked right up to the man, and of the twenty different choices, I had no clue of the one I required. I went with the only English words I could read. "Mulled wine with rum."
Walking back to the ship with my emptied souvenir mulled wine mug (Len drank his portion; after a few sips, he downed mine, too), I realized that this would an acquired taste, and one that might take some time. Although our market experience was brief, I felt the magic, the pulsating rhythm of joy and wonder.
It would be my beginning of a lifetime love affair with Christmas in Europe.
1. Finding me: Costa Rica
How can a country save me? I wouldn't have believed it myself, but it did.
It was our second trip - an eventually, a third - to San Jose. Last year, the initial experience made our top five moments; as predicted, it did again, and this time, it's the pinnacle. No other time in my life have I ever had to exercise my faith to such extremes and walk by the unknown. Through research and faith - everything from the financial solutions to the pain and fear to the ignoring of the doubters - we explored a country, fell in love with a people, and expanded our family by adding many dentists!
Not only will Meza Dental always remain part of our world but also the Osa Peninsula. A three-day break, a hundred miles or so away from San Jose down a dusty road at the end of nowhere offered a solitary pilgrimage to discovery. Although I complained constantly about the 100-degree heat and incessant sweat dripping from every part of my body, I felt almost as if I were leaving something behind when I left. Truthfully, I'm not sure what that means, but I intend to find out. Those sandy graveled roads and forced singular existence was made bearable by great company and Netflix. There's no need for anything else. Travel light; clothing nor worries needed. It's just you, the Macaws, the pebbles and the forest. So when we return, you'll be the first to know our conclusion of Osa. And along the way, we'll be sure to stop at Martina's for a cold one pulled right from the freezer.
It was our second trip - an eventually, a third - to San Jose. Last year, the initial experience made our top five moments; as predicted, it did again, and this time, it's the pinnacle. No other time in my life have I ever had to exercise my faith to such extremes and walk by the unknown. Through research and faith - everything from the financial solutions to the pain and fear to the ignoring of the doubters - we explored a country, fell in love with a people, and expanded our family by adding many dentists!
Not only will Meza Dental always remain part of our world but also the Osa Peninsula. A three-day break, a hundred miles or so away from San Jose down a dusty road at the end of nowhere offered a solitary pilgrimage to discovery. Although I complained constantly about the 100-degree heat and incessant sweat dripping from every part of my body, I felt almost as if I were leaving something behind when I left. Truthfully, I'm not sure what that means, but I intend to find out. Those sandy graveled roads and forced singular existence was made bearable by great company and Netflix. There's no need for anything else. Travel light; clothing nor worries needed. It's just you, the Macaws, the pebbles and the forest. So when we return, you'll be the first to know our conclusion of Osa. And along the way, we'll be sure to stop at Martina's for a cold one pulled right from the freezer.
When we return home, we revel in what we have seen and almost immediately Len asks (and if he doesn't, I do), "Where to next?"
Thank you for coming along on so many of these journeys. We appreciate your support more than you'll ever know. Join us in 2019 as we return to a few loved places and carve out some new ones as well.
We might be staying a little closer to home this year since we've got a big project on the horizon.
However, Ireland for the holidays; what a beautiful thought!
Follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. We're a hoot!
With gratitude . . . L + J
Thank you for coming along on so many of these journeys. We appreciate your support more than you'll ever know. Join us in 2019 as we return to a few loved places and carve out some new ones as well.
We might be staying a little closer to home this year since we've got a big project on the horizon.
However, Ireland for the holidays; what a beautiful thought!
Follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. We're a hoot!
With gratitude . . . L + J