Opening up a blog after years is a peculiar ride. Dozens of half-finished thoughts are moored in my Drafts – fiery flares of inspiration that have since faded to coals.
My draft post On jury duty was assuredly started after a particularly breathless day on the treadmill of judicial trauma, squatting to shoulder the weight of societal evils stacked on, one by countless one, day after countless day.
Drafted in April 2020, Movement is a fantastic privilege, revisited was spurred by the paralysis of the COVID-19 world and a deeper appreciation for just how much we had taken movement for granted. Reflections in the time of Corona was started the day before that, and while presumably meant to be some profound metaphor, is actually just a description of how I cluttered my parents’ home with books I’d squirreled away from the neighborhood’s Little Free Library.
Lame, duck was intended to be a reflection about leaving my job in study abroad – but who are we kidding, as I am both not lame and problematically incapable of half-assing my work at any point in my professional tenure.
Hanoi, Vietnam
in pursuit of awe
I revisited this plot of cyberland under the encouragement of my husband (I HAVE ONE OF THOSE NOW). I didn’t realize it, but he had not seen this little plot until after we got married, and was wildly fascinated at what I had planted here. At the same time, I had been grappling with a creeping suspicion that I was turning into a utilitarian bot bent on maximizing my efficiency in both work and in life. And while some things are meant to be efficient – for example, Honda Civics and Chick-fil-a drive thru lines – human beings are not. At least, not wholly.
Last year was tricked out out with milestones. I got a new job. Z and I got married. We dipped our toes in Southest Asia for the first time for our honeymoon in Vietnam. 2023 buoyed us with awe for this surprising world we live in: its indescribable beauties, its marvelous complexities, and its resilient kindnesses. It reminded us that in our world of awe, utility plays but a supporting role; it’s a means to a wide-eyed end.
So it’s time to become more intentional about tapping into everyday awe, and creativity, I feel, is one way to do so. Creativity is a human way of puzzling through sensations that don’t quite compute in a world of efficiency. So that’s why I’m plodding back here this year, to my creative cyberplot, striving to carve out time to be creative, in hopes that it will allow me to feel a similar sense of awe. But that’s not all.
Monte Albán, Oaxaca, Mexico
where awe will take us in 2024
Last month, taking advantage of our remote jobs and shallow roots, my husband and I said goodbye to our squirrel-infested apartment and are roaming North America for the bulk of the year. Though intimidating practicalities lurk in the years ahead, for now we’re embracing the chapter that’s upon us. Throughout 2024, we’ll be posting up in:
Mexico City + Oaxaca
South Carolina
New Mexico
Southern Utah
Montana
Idaho
Washington
Michigan’s Upper Peninsula
Vermont
Y’all. I can’t wait. Here’s to a year of awe ahead – may it be one of very many!
It was February, and I had left behind a Massachusetts in which every particle and every follicle was laced with frost, brimming with frost, encrusted with frost. But here I stood in Costa Rica with my friends, gawking at…frost.
I was not impressed.
But when you’re traveling in Costa Rica with Costa Ricans, frost has a novelty all of its own. You don’t expect a country 10 degrees north of the Equator to be reaching south of zero degrees in temperature. Which brings us back to why at 4am I was gathered with my friends around this mound of frosted moss, photographing it, posing with it, and squealing with glee about it.
Oh look, more…frost.
Lest you be concerned, seeing frost was not our primary mission (well, I’ll speak for myself). We were summiting Cerro Chirripó, the tallest peak in Costa Rica at 3,821 meters. The most popular trail, which begins in San Gerardo de Rivas, is well-marked, though steep and somewhat strenuous at parts. SINAC (National System of Conservation Areas, in English) limits the number of permits available to enter Chirripó National Park each day, so for much of the hike, we marched to the tune of our own haggard breathing. And the majority of those people we did encounter were ticos, which made my corazón happy. Having lived over two years in Costa Rica, hiking Chirripó had been fidgeting on my bucket list – and I had the most sublime time crossing it off.
Timetable
Chirripó National Park encompasses five ecosystems, and should be a multi-day experience for anyone who actually wants to enjoy it (biased opinion). Exhibit A: We met a deranged couple in San Gerardo who ascended and descended all in one day, but they candidly admitted they felt like they were dying. Here’s our timetable, which I’d recommend for maximum enjoyment of all there is to see at the top:
Day 1: Travel to San Gerardo.
Travel to San Gerardo de Rivas & check in with SINAC offices by 4pm. Night in San Gerardo de Rivas.
Day 2: Hike San Gerardo – Crestones Base Camp.
Begin climb at 3am from San Gerardo to Crestones Base Camp (we totaled 7.5 hours – average time is 8 hours). Night at Crestones.
Day 3: Summit Cerro Chirripó for the sunrise…
Begin ascent at 3am from Crestones Base Camp to see sunrise on Cerro Chirripo (approximately 2 hours hiking).
…& then hike to Los Crestones.
After sunrise, hike to Los Crestones, via Valle de los Conejos. Including the sunrise hike, a total of 8 hours hiking. Night at Crestones Base Camp.
Day 4: Descend from Crestones Base Camp – San Gerardo.
Descend from Crestones Base Camp to San Gerardo (~4.5 hours for our group).
Sights from the summit
Where to stay
San Gerardo de Rivas (night before ascent)
We stayed at Hotel Urán, which provided perfectly good, clean, basic accommodations. A private room with bunk beds and shared bathrooms cost us ~$21 each, and the hotel included breakfast – which they kindly packed and bagged for us the night before our ascent to eat along the way. The best thing about this hotel was definitely the location – the entrance to Parque Nacional Chirripó is maybe 1 minute walking up the road. Casa Mariposa, located right next door, also has a great location (though a bit pricier). If you’re staying elsewhere, remember to inquire about what transportation is available to get you to the trailhead (especially if you’re beginning your ascent early).
Crestones Base Camp
This’ll make it easy – this is your only lodging choice. Clean, simple, chilly. Rooms of two bunk beds apiece (hostel-style), shared bathrooms, and ICE COLD SHOWERS (<– yes.). Make sure you buy meals in advance. Hiking around Chirripó will take your butt and freeze it and if you do not sign up to eat hot meals I do not know how you think you’re going to thaw it. The meals are expensive…but remember that horses and humans lugged your uncooked calories up the mountain on their backs and then complain.
Tips
Start booking your spots 6 months in advance.The number of permits granted to enter Chirripo is very finite – and this is a good thing, as the park maintains its natural integrity and you don’t have to throw elbows. During the dry months, which will give you the best views, spots sell out almost the day they’re made available – which is six months in advance.
Make sure to arrive in San Gerardo to check in BEFORE 4:00 PM the day before you plan to ascend. You’ll receive tickets and passes, without which you won’t be allowed into the park early the next morning.
Begin your ascent early. For us, the first three kilometers were some of the most difficult – but would’ve been more difficult (mentally) if we’d been able to see them. By starting at 3:00 AM and lighting our way with flashlights, and walking while practically asleep, these kilometers faded away like a really strenuous dream.
See the sunrise on Cerro Chirripó. It’s truly, deeply, absolutely worth it. We left Crestones at 3:00 AM, and walking at a brisk clip, summited the final bit just as the sun started tinging the sky with light.
Y’all…it’s COLD. At Crestones, it was below freezing when we left for our sunrise hike. Bring those gloves. Those hats. Those layers. Do it. You’re welcome.
The air isthinner. My abode has me living right at sea level, so I felt the few thousand meters of elevation in my lungs; it felt like no breath was quite deep enough. For me, though, this passed after a day.
Don’t count on having wifi or service at Crestones. I didn’t manage to connect to the wifi even once over three days. Electricity is also limited – this is cut off at 8:00 PM every day.
Packing List
Flashlight/headlamp & batteries.
Gloves & hat.
Layers. I brought a thermal undershirt, 2 long-sleeved t-shirts, 1 short-sleeved t-shirt, 2 pairs of leggings, a zip-up hoodie, and a rain jacket. I needed everything. Sometimes I wished I had more. During the day, with the sun’s heat beating down, you’ll want the flexibility to peel off layers. And you’ll want dedicated clothing to bum around in/sleep in post-hike.
Socks. Bring a fresh pair for each day. You don’t want to reuse these.
Two pairs of shoes. One set for hiking, and a second set for bumming around the lodge.
Sunscreen & sunglasses. You’re near the Equator, and moving progressively towards the sun as you hike. Don’t mess, Icharus.
Pack of cards or other entertainment. After you’ve worn your body out hiking, there’s not a whole lot to do around the base camp other that hang out, eat, and sleep. Find yourself a nice game of rummy.
Towel & toiletries. Only soap is provided.
Snacks.
Water bottle(s).
Camera.
Portable charger. For after-hours charging.
Cleansing face wipes. Bring a lot if you aren’t into the idea of a polar plunge.
I have toodled and toddled around my fair share of places in Costa Rica, but Parque Nacional Chirripó was one of the most unique and stunning expanses of natural beauty I’ve ever seen. There were sweeping vistas, drippy slices of cloud forest, and glimmering glacial lakes. But nothing compares to the minutes we waited with raw, red faces at the summit just before dawn: the moon reigning high over a pasture of clouds, mountain peaks slicing through their soft knolls; the sun melting the sky into a gradient of purple, orange, and gold; and then rays plunging into the valley, warming every crag, crook, and cranny.
An unforgettable place with unforgettable people is a happy recipe for an unforgettable adventure.
If you’re venturing to Costa Rica, chances are your guidebook pointed you with flapping hands and flashing lights to the cool, verdant paradise known as Monteverde. I love me some Monteverde, but dipping off the beaten path into San Luis adds a whole new and beautiful dimension to a visit to the area. Having lived in this petite place for over two years, San Luis is so special to me that I’ve completely lost the ability to view it impartially. It’s colored by transformative experiences and beautiful relationships I’ve had here – but perhaps that’s not a bad thing. Who would want to visit a place that leaves you feeling indifferent?
My blatant partiality aside, they number few the people who have visited San Luis and not left impressed by its natural beauty, united community, and cultural warmth. Here’s why you should skip Monteverde proper and head to San Luis instead:
Authenticity. Though beautiful and hospitable, Monteverde has, under the boom of tourism, evolved into a bit of a more commercial destination. San Luis, separated from Monteverde by a 25-minute descent into the valley, combines Monteverde’s rugged, mountainous beauty with the tranquility, warmth, and humility of a town of 400 people, untouched by the fervor of commercialism.
Community. Spend time talking to anyone in San Luis, and you’ll find out that this community is extraordinarily well-organized. The San Luis Development Association helps coordinate everything from maintenance of the soccer field, cemetery, clinic, and roads, to a rural tourism organization that promotes local businesses.
Tranquility. San Luis is a town of 400 people. Everyone knows each other, so there’s not much traffic or noise to worry about, aside from a few stray motorcycles.
Accessibility. I’m not referring to the roads by any stretch of the imagination – buckle up, because San Luis has the same rocky roads that Monteverde is famous for. You’ll want a car here for sure. What I mean is that you can stay in San Luis and devote a day to head up the mountain and experience the highlights of Monteverde. Zipline, see the Monteverde Reserve – check ’em off your list. Then return to San Luis at the end of the day for a quiet, relaxing evening.
Do:
For the outdoor enthusiast, bird watcher, & nature lover:
This family-owned and operated farm boasts beautiful trails that wind through the property, taking you along the river, by pastures, and through thick forest. No stretch trail is the same as another; each twist and turn confronts you with a new lush view, each teeming with life. During the dry season (roughly January – April, inquire for availability), the family builds a swimming hole into the refreshingly cold Rio San Luis – the perfect way to end your hike on a hot day. A campground is also available.
Tip: This is the perfect destination for avid bird watchers. The property is nestled against the back of the Monteverde Reserve and Continental Divide, visitors have the unique opportunity to see both birds typically found on the Pacific Slope of Costa Rica, and birds not typically seen in Monteverde that have drifted over from the Caribbean side. As an added bonus, the Ornate hawk-eagle has been found nesting on the property for several years running.
Community hike on the Sendero Pacifico, organized by the San Luis Development Association
A fairly recent initiative, the Sendero Pacifico is a network of freely accessible hiking trails that aims to connect the Monteverde Reserve at the the top of the Bellbird Biological Corridor, to the Gulf of Nicoya at the bottom of the corridor. Currently, hikers can choose to complete a day hike in San Luis, or partake in an overnight trek to Guacimal. Whatever length of trail you choose, the views over the valley are stunning. Hikes should be completed with a guide.
The true value of staying at the UGA campus (see “Stay” section below) is the educational activities facilitated by a team of resident naturalists, and included in the nightly lodging rate. Bird-watching, cow-milking, a guided natural history hike, medicinal garden tour, and sustainable farm tour all keep you busy outside, while informational talks and workshops about birds, mammals, insects, plants, and reforestation mean that you’ll come away from your stay a pseudo-expert on the tropical cloud forest.
For the coffee drinker & purveyor of local goods:
Margarita, Monteverde Natural Cosmetics
Gilberth, Finca La Bella Sustainable Farm Tour
Victor Ramirez, El Cafetal Coffee Tour
El Cafetal Coffee Tour/Café San Luis. Victor Ramirez has worked in the coffee industry for over two decades, in every aspect from processing to tasting to now growing and roasting his own coffee. A tour through this family-owned farm paints a remarkably detailed picture of how coffee is grown, harvested, roasted, and tasted, and the challenges the crop and farmer face together. Victor’s passion and expertise shine through on this tour, which is perfect for coffee enthusiasts. Coffee available for purchase at the end of the tour.
Finca La Bella Coffee & Sustainable Farm Tour*. This tour starts at the homes of one of two small-scale family farmers in Finca La Bella. Visitors learn about both coffee and sugar cane cultivation, and lend their own hands to juicing sugar cane. After visiting the farmer, you continue down the road to Finca Bella Tica, where visitors learn about the roasting process and have the opportunity to buy locally-grown coffee. *This combination tour is arranged through UGA Costa Rica for its guests, though you can visit Finca Bella Tica independently.
Monteverde Natural Cosmetics. This is another truly family-run operation. The Vargas-Torres family produces a line of 100% natural soaps, lotions, and other beauty products, infused with elements found practically in their backyard (like the cascaras of coffee beans or orange peels). The business is run out of a small workshop to the side of the family house, but their products are sold all over Monteverde and Costa Rica at large, and have even found a steady market in China. The family offers tours of their production upon request, which I’d highly recommend if you get the chance. However, the family maintains a busy schedule, so tours are subject to availability. Guests of UGA Costa Rica can contact Reception to check availability.
Dine:
Rancho de Lelo. Located in Lower San Luis, Rancho de Lelo features tilapia ponds and a small farm from which they harvest their food. In additional to their famous fried tilapia, fished straight from the property’s ponds, friendly owners Lelo & Elvira offer chicken, smoked pork, and vegetarian dishes. Farm tour also available upon request.
Zelmi’s Pizza. Located on the grounds of Finca Ecológica San Luis, Zelmi’s Pizza is the perfect place to end your hike or swim on the farm. Aside from a variety of pizza offerings, as well as frescos squeezed from fruit grown on the property, a unique charm of the place is Zelmi’s beautiful paintings, which line the walls of the pizzeria.
Dinner or cooking class with a local family.* Organized for guests of Ecolodge San Luis/UGA Costa Rica Campus, eating dinner or going to a cooking class with a local family allows you to step into an authentic Costa Rican home and share in the food traditions of its inhabitants. *This tour is arranged through UGA Costa Rica for its guests
Stay:
University of Georgia-Costa Rica Campus (also known as Ecolodge San Luis). The University of Georgia’s satellite campus in San Luis welcomes visitors who are looking to have an enriching travel experience – travelers who want to connect to and learn from their environment, not just breeze through it. The campus also houses students and researchers, so you never know who you’ll sit next to on the porch or meet at mealtimes. One of the biggest advantages of staying here is the engaging activities that are included in the nightly rate (see “Do” section above), as well as three Costa-Rican style meals a day. Campus staff can help set up your itinerary and make some local reservations.
Tip: Don’t expect luxury accommodations; rooms are simple but clean. The cabinas are the most private rooms, with small, tranquil balconies with forest views. This will be your favorite spot to sit in the morning, watching troops of monkeys or coatis pass by.
Rent a house with AirBnb:
The Leitón’s House – Lovely two-bedroom cabin located in Upper San Luis, well-positioned for those who would like to take advantage of the rural tranquility of San Luis, but with Monteverde a short drive away.
Casa El Cafetal– As the name implies, this house is set on the grounds of a local coffee farm, owned and operated by the Ramirez family. Located in “middle” San Luis.
I’m usually morally opposed to taking pictures of my feet. My dad railed against this when I was growing up. “Another foot picture?” he’d exclaim to my younger sister, leafing through the photos on the family camera. Feet simply do not carry the same sentimental value as a face, or the same scope of a landscape.
On this occasion, though, I made an exception. My pruny, ghastly feet seemed all too representative of the journey I’d undertaken with this motley crew. Three Ticos, a flying Dutchman, and a miscellaneous gringa walk into the untamed Costa Rican frontier. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
I pictured the settlers of the Peñas Blancas Valley as the mountainous tropical version of Little House on the Prarie. The way settlers started moving into the valley – in search of their own homesteads and economic opportunity – reminded me of the U.S.’s westward migration and manifest destiny. Mining, though not for gold, even plays a role in the development of the valley. But you can forget taking conestoga wagons on these trails. Everything from sacks of flour to canisters of gas were brought into the valley by foot or hoof.
Development and migration into the Peñas Blancas Valley increased in the mid-20th century, as deforestation in Costa Rica reached its peak in the 1970-80s. In 1977, though, the government halted development on the land as part of an effort to protect the watershed of the newly dammed Lake Arenal – but they were slow to buy land from those in this zone who’d already settled it. This left the landowners in a quandary: unable to legally develop their land, but unable to sell it for the same reason.
Over a decade later, thanks to grassroots fundraising efforts abroad, the Monteverde Conservation League began to buy many of the landowners out, effectively halting much of the deforestation that threatened the biological diversity of the region. The result is the large swath of protected land called the Children’s Eternal Rainforest, which is Costa Rica’s largest private reserve at roughly 23,000 hectares. Together with neighboring reserves in the Monteverde-Arenal region, the amount of contiguous protected land comes to 60,000 hectares.
I couldn’t really tell you the purpose of this trip, because to this day I don’t know it. But it was no casual foray into the wilderness for any Bob on the street. Access to the protected lands of Peñas Blancas Valley in the Children’s Eternal Rainforest is a privilege open to few – principally park rangers and chaperoned students or researchers. Whatever the reason for our trip, I’m not in the habit of asking too many questions when it comes to an opportunity to explore a new place – especially a place as mythical as Peñas Blancas.
The journey began in the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve, where Lucas, the Dutchman & I met up with Juan & Alvaro, two rangers with the Centro Científico Tropical (the organization that manages the Monteverde Reserve). They came loaded with provisions and a sturdy horse to carry them. Their shoe of choice? The unforgiving, utilitarian rubber boot – perfect for fording rivers, but also perfect on for rubbing your feet into tatters. As we crossed through the Monteverde Reserve and descended into the portal of Peñas Blancas, the flying Dutchman was grounded before the journey even started. But start the journey did.
Refugio El Aleman, about 1.5 – 2 hours’ descent from the Monteverde Reserve into the Penas Blancas Valley. Though it’s nothing fancy to look at, the cabin’s dry wooden floors and sparsely equipped kitchen feel like a goldmine when you’re in need of a respite.
Café chorreado is a magical remedy for soggy feet.
Running is one of the best ways to see a new place, if for no other reason than for the sheer amount of ground you can cover. With organized races, though, you gain a new advantage: you, the runner, rule the roads cars once did.
Last month, I did some ruling of my own in the Vig-Bay Half-Marathon. This was my fourth half-marathon overall and my second one abroad. The first one, the Royal Parks Half-Marathon in London, England, left some big shoes to fill. It looped through Hyde Park, the banks of the Thames, and Trafalgar Square, to name a few of the sights. The Vig-Bay, located in Galicia and smaller in scale, was a different animal.
The race route connected Vigo to nearby Bayona, hugging the coast and including views of the gorgeous Islas Cíes. Though the weather was a half-hearted drizzle, it’s hard to complain when you’re running right next to the ocean. I was thoroughly distracted the entire time, gaping around every bend. There was even a Celtic band, complete with bagpipes, churning out just the screeching/heart-pumping tunes you need in a half-marathon.
As I have picked up on, though, running has not really taken off among the chicas here in Spain. The proportion of girls running was drastically lower than in any other race I’ve done – roughly ten percent of all participants (!). Let’s be real, though…that just made me feel like a badass. Especially when I made my personal best time (cue fist pump).
Noncommittally drizzly weather, true to Galician form
The petrified sponge-girl
Just you know, a castle at the finish
Runners soothed their muscles at the beach at the finish line (Baiona/Bayona)
Flan, the recovery food of champions (Restaurante O Peirao, Panxón)
As you know, Charleston left me in a bit of a food frenzy. But there are many other reasons I fell in love with this town, like the warmth of its people and the colorful facades of its houses.
Charleston has a LOT of Mini Coopers. This one was heading across the Cooper River Bridge.
And I will leave you with a classic: P.S. Condé Nast rated Charleston the friendliest city in America. Which is probably why no one tackled me when I planked on the pineapple fountain.
P.P.S. Check out Charleston photographer Olivia Rae James’ blog for more gorgeous shots.
During the first weekend of spring break back in March, eight of my friends and I drove up to South Carolina to explore Charleston. Nine girls in a one bedroom, one bathroom unit was quite the experience. But free accommodations in Charleston? On my college budget, I’d’ve take any inch of carpet I could get.
The inch of carpet I did get was in a condo right on the beach and a 20-minute drive from Charleston. The movie Dear John used the pier just outside our condo for filming. That’s right, plop a dollop of cool on top.
Speaking of dollops, let’s talk food. Let’s be real, eating is half the reason anyone travels. Charleston, however, is a food mecca. I would readily admit to eating my way through the city.
Five Loaves Cafe.
Pralines & truffles galore
Fives Loaves Cafe.
Five Loaves Cafe.
Lunch at Eli’s Table.
Evening Harris Teeter run.
Caramel apples.
Bottomless mimosas at Eli’s Table.
My favorite meal of the trip was at Five Loaves Cafe, a sandwich-soup restaurant with mason jars as glasses, baskets as lamp sconces, and food quotes pencilled on the table. And to top it off? Gluten-free bread for their scrumptious sandwiches. The menu was so gluten-free friendly that my stomach did a jig of joy.
Eli’s Tablein downtown Charleston ran a close second, first for its bottomless mimosas and second for indulging my inner history nerd. Their dishes are named after famous historical figures – my salad was the Martha Washington.
One delicacy that missed my camera (but not my mouth) was the famous Charleston shrimp and grits. You can find them at just about any restaurant in Charleston, but you must give them a shot when you’re in town – you will not regret it.
But enough about food. Just take a stroll through Charleston and you’ll see why it’s a must-visit city of the South.
Though we were only in Charleston for a weekend, I daresay it was a successful (and gluttonous) one!
One of the most useful lessons I learned from backpacking through Europe is that the best feast for the eyes, ears, mouth, and wallet is to be found in the marketplace. With that in mind, we headed to Ottawa’s Byward Market.
Since we arrived in Byward in the late afternoon, time was extremely limited. We ate at an open-air pub just off the square and, as we ate, were spoiled by the classical guitar stylings of Tom Ward on the street below. Though I had never heard Tom, as a semi-finalist in Australia’s Got Talent, he actually has a bit of fame to his name. I daresay he is one of the most talented musicians (and the most talent street musician) I have ever seen. The fact that his guitar was riddled with holes made his music all the more riveting.
Back on the street, we lost ourselves in Mr. Ward’s music for another twenty minutes before snapping to attention and exploring more of the market. The streets surrounding Byward have every type of store imaginable, including some excellent independent clothing and jewelry boutiques that my sisters and I dragged our parents to.
But when all was said and done, the clan just couldn’t stay away from food. We drifted back to the center of Byward Market as the produce vendors were starting to close up shop. Needless to say, we helped out by taking some berries off their hands.
A few steps away from that divine berry supply was Aux Delices Bakery, which caught our eye with three small words: “Gluten Free Cookies.” As a long-time gluten-free eater, I was ecstatic about being able to eat cookies and brownies from a legitimate bakery. Aux Delices Bakery bakes gluten-free goods first thing in the morning to minimize the possibility of contamination. It’s the little things, folks.
We were tipped off by our new amigo Karl (our favorite waiter at Chateau Laurier) that we could not leave Ottawa without trying their doughy specialty: the beavertail. Beavertails, essentially doughnuts in slab form, come in many varieties, including chocolate-banana, maple, and cinammon-sugar. Sibling Two flew cinnamon-sugar style. We passed back through Byward Market on our way out of Ottawa to try one.
With that, our car left Ottawa eighty pounds heavier.
Planning our visit to Ottawa’s Parliament Hill, there were two tasks on our list: (1) watch the changing of the guard, and (2) see how the inside of the Centre Block (above) stacked up against our own Capitol building.
Not on the list? Crashing Parliament Hill’s yoga hour. A little before noon, yoga enthusiasts meandered onto the lawn and rolled out their mats. A trickle of yoga-ites turned into a full-fledged river and before long it was Downward Dog, Ottawa style.
Definitely wish I had brought my yoga mat, but I think we got the best view as spectators, don’t you?
I never expected to be able to say that I’ve slept in a chateau, but that changed soon after visiting Ottawa, Canada’s capital city. The chateau in question, Chateau Laurier, opened in 1912 and was built to house railway travelers passing through Ottawa at Union Station across the street. The following were taken within a stone’s throw of the chateau.
And I will leave you with a classic:
Molly On the Move 