I love to hike. For me, hiking combines some of my greatest passions in life: Being outside and being active. Tucson is surrounded by mountains and offers ample opportunity to hike until your hearts desire. There are some peaks such as Mount Wrightson, that reach almost 10,000 feet and there are many national and state parks loaded with trails.
Every time I come to Tucson, I try to fit in some hikes. My parents live in the foothills and are close to several of my favorite trails and hiking spots such as the lovely Sabino Canyon (which has countless trails) and Ventana Canyon. Some of my favorite trails include the hike to Seven Falls which guides you along diverse desert landscape bringing you to a large canyon with seven waterfalls (this hike is exceptionally beautiful in March or April when the water has melted off Mount Lemmon above and creates huge, rushing falls and beautiful, fragrant desert flowers). I also love to hike the Phoneline trail that wraps around Sabino Canyon affording a spectacular view below. Finally, the Ventana Trailhead is another great hike which combines some steep, zigzag trails giving you a fabulous workout and a rewarding view at the top of Tucson valley. All three of these hikes can take anywhere from 3-4 hours depending on how fast you move and how few breaks you take. It is a perfect way to let off steam, burn some calories and enjoy the stunning fresh air and views of the Arizona desert.
Yesterday we opted to take a new trail and ventured over to Pima Canyon, about ten minutes away from my parents home. We chose a trail leading up along the Catalina Mountains which was uniquely beautiful and very peaceful. It was the first time for years that I hiked with my siblings as well as my father, so it was a great time with good company.
Here are some shots along the way.
My dad and sister setting off.
Going up…this hike had a lot of climb involved and was rocky so you had to keep your eyes in front of you! I was relieved that my dad went first. I always get paranoid of encountering a rattlesnake. I’ve seen them before in the distance but never (knock on wood) had one jump out in front of me before.
The trail system goes on forever, way up high into the mountains in the background. You can hike for days back in the wilderness as long as you bring a pack. There is also plenty of wildlife such as mountain lions, bighorn sheep, deer, ocelots and wildcats. Sadly a lot of their habitat has disappeared and these animals have come down to the foothills and valley in search of food and water only to be a nuisance to the human population below. I’ve seen an ocelot, javelina pigs, coyote and wildcat outside of my parents home. Not a good thing to see, though.
A skeleton of a saguaro cactus, Tucson’s most dominant variety of cacti.
The trail map…we took the Pontatoc Canyon Trail.
Photos of the many different varieties of cacti.
These are the notorious and deadly jumping cacti.
And the stunning view behind us…
Then we reached the top and took a sibling photo—-our first in years of the three of us.
And fabulous views of Finger Rock and the surrounding Pima Canyon.
Mount Wrightson beckons in the background….one of my most favorite hikes of all! It is a whole day affair that I’ll have to save for another day.
There is something divine about a good massage. As someone who has suffered a bad neck and upper back for over three-fourths of my life (see post: Dealing with Chronic Pain) you can imagine how much better an excellent massage is to my poor, sore muscles. I am like a new person after a massage. I don’t have a darting, throbbing pain in my neck and my soul seems to finally find some sort of peace.
Unfortunately, like most luxuries in life massages are not cheap. In fact, I find it difficult to find anywhere decent to get a massage for under $120 per hour. In my book, as a stay-at-home mom with no income to call my own, I just can’t stomach dishing out that kind of money, even if my back hurts like hell. Thus I end up getting probably only one to two massages a year, usually as a gift from my loving husband or understanding mother who also suffers chronic neck pain.
Before heading over to China, my neck and back were really causing me grief. After a ten-year hiatus, I had to start physical therapy sessions again to try to manage the pain and strengthen my back muscles. It found it so incredibly frustrating to have to deal with this “pain in the neck”. I am an incredibly active person who can’t let a persistent pesky pain stand in my way.
Looking back, I am convinced that my 20 mile plus bike rides over the summer pulling my four-year-old daughter were the main culprit in ruining my back again. (I suppose I can also add in “getting older” although I try not to dwell on it). Stress and spending more time at the computer were also causing problems (hmmm….could it be all that extra time I’ve been spending blogging?). I was determined to go on my trip and relax a bit, and pray my back wouldn’t go into complete spasms on the flight. Having a good seat helped significantly, but passing out after four glasses of wine and falling asleep at a strange angle did not help.
Needless to say, when I landed in Beijing after a fifteen hour flight I could barely turn my head. I knew that it wasn’t a good sign but I had hope. For I had heard about the art of the Chinese Massage and I knew that the price would be right.
Chinese medicine has been practiced for centuries. Per Massage Today:
Traditional Chinese medicine is one of the oldest continuous systems of medicine in history, with recorded instances dating as far back as two thousand years before the birth of Christ. This is in sharp contrast to American or Western forms of health care, which have been in existence for a much shorter time span.
Traditional Chinese medicine is based, at least in part, on the Daoist belief that we live in a universe in which everything is interconnected. What happens to one part of the body affects every other part of the body. The mind and body are not viewed separately, but as part of an energetic system. Similarly, organs and organ systems are viewed as interconnected structures that work together to keep the body functioning.
Massage known as “an mo” or “tui na” in Chinese and Acupuncture have been integral parts of Chinese medicine for thousands of years and has gained worldwide attention and practice for many years. Chinese doctors believe that a network in the human body called “‘jing luo” serves as a passageway for vital energy and blood to reach all the parts of the body. The use of acupuncture and massage on pressure points and injured muscles can greatly relieve pain and maintain overall health.
As soon as I landed, I could hardly wait to explore and experience the art of the Chinese massage. My body was desperately waiting and begging. Yet, unfortunately other things got in the way such as the more important excitement of exploring a new place. Who wants to waste two hours trying to get a massage when I can walk until I drop and see as much of Beijing as possible? I reasoned.
Stubborn, defiant me waited until the very last minute; until I was at the “point of no return” in level and severity of pain and discomfort. I had walked for over eight hours long on our first day in Beijing, on hard concrete, constantly stopping to rub my back or do a quick neck stretch. I even laid on my “tension release” racket balls for an hour, drank several glasses of wine, took a pain reliever…. yet there was no relief. It wasn’t looking good.
The climb up to the Great Wall was amazing while I was doing it. Exciting, fun and pure adventure. Yet when I woke up the next morning I had hell to pay. I was in dire straits. I could barely move my shoulders let alone turn my head from side to side (I cursed myself and wondered how I ever managed to hike over 100 miles last year in the Himalayas! Could my body really have aged that much in a single year?!).
It wasn’t the way I imagined my vacation, suffering and wallowing away in pain. I had to do something. It was time to discover the art of the Chinese Massage, and fortunately the best place in town was right outside my doorstep.
The Dragonfly Spa, located only four buildings down from my hotel, is known as one of the top spas in Beijing. Knowing that made me initially hesitate, thinking that it would be pricey and snooty. But silly old me forgot the number one thing about China: The low-cost of labor.
When I walked into the Spa to check out the prices, I was instantly drawn in. The entire waiting room and spa smelled of roses, real fresh, fragrant roses. Hundreds. Thousands. A room aloft in roses. It instantly put me in a trance. The friendly, pretty receptionist handed me over a neatly printed price list. I swallowed before opening it and then to my shock and disbelief, the prices were insanely cheap. An hour-long aromatherapy massage with hot oils was only $35. The lesser hour-long “Chinese Massage” was a mere $16. They even had a neck and shoulder massage for an hour for $15. I could not believe my eyes or my luck. I was in the perfect place! I was in Heaven!
I desperately asked the receptionist if it was possible to get a massage that moment. It didn’t look too busy. I was the only one there. But I wasn’t sure because at home you have to typically book a massage at least a week in advance.
The pretty, young receptionist smiled reassuringly and told me, “One moment, please“, in perfect, beautiful english. She picked up the phone, dialed, and spoke rapidly in Chinese to whoever answered. “Please have a seat“, she said kindly. Within five minutes a small, petite woman walked in, smiled at me and lead me back to Heaven.
As I left the pleasant waiting room and entered the spa, I was instantly greeted by the healing, peaceful smell of lavender. The entire room was dark except for little candles that lined the stairs leading up to the massage rooms. It was the most incredible, pleasing synthetic flowery smell I’d ever experienced. It was enough to make my knees weak.
I lied down on my stomach in almost complete darkness and silence and let each ache and pain in my poor, overworked body relax. Sometimes I think it is best if the masseuse does not speak english. I tend to talk too much, even during a massage. That makes it harder to relax and simply enjoy the experience. Since I didn’t know Chinese and my masseuse knew little english, there was no conversation whatsoever. Just silence and total relaxation; something I think everybody in this world needs.
For someone so small, I was amazed by the strength of her touch. The hot, scented oils melted into my skin and sunk into my rock-like muscles relieving the tension that had been stored up for months. I closed my eyes and relaxed, enjoying each and every moment of Heaven. I didn’t want it to ever end. It was so wonderful.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. The sixty minutes were up, and I could barely move. My body felt like butter and my muscles melted into the massage table. I took my time getting up and was sad to leave. But I knew that it would not be my last time at the Dragonfly. For how could I resist the art of the Chinese massage?
For the next day I was going to indulge in the $15 one-hour neck and shoulder massage. And, little did I know there was a Dragonfly in Shanghai too where I would get a send-off massage before leaving China. Heaven comes in threes.
Stay tuned…there are more China posts to come. Not sure yet if it will be the post on “The Curse of the Asian Toilet” or one on the fascinating Hutongs, or old alleyways of Beijing.
We arrived on top of the Great Wall of China at Jiankou, after two and a half hours of hard climbing up, to see one of the most impressive, spectacular man-made phenomenons I’d ever seen. I’d been to Machu Picchu, the ancient ruins of Rome and Ephesus in Turkey, and spent six months living in Paris. All were amazing. Yet for some reason, the shere magnitude and length of the wall just blew me away. It snaked up and down and around the ridge of the mountains for as far as the eye could see. For almost 4,000 miles in total, from east to west, across the Middle Kingdom. How the ancient Chinese indentured servants built this massive wall of rock and stone was a mystery to me. At first sight, it took my breath away.
After paying a few yuan to climb the last steps of a make-shift ladder, we finally stepped on the 2,000-year-old Wall. I took so many pictures it was impossible for me to edit them. So, I decided to put them all in the post. The good and the bad. Unfortunately the smog had not lifted and covered the Wall like a suffocating blanket. I wanted to cry at the “what if’s“. But I didn’t let myself go there for today was not the time to dwell on the poor visibility of the Wall. It was the time to cherish and marvel at one of mankind’s greatest creations.
After my first steps walking along the wall, I understood why it is called the “Great” Wall of China. It did not disappoint and proved my convictions that no matter how I felt about the rest of the trip, this one moment in time would make it all worth the journey.
Here are my photos, the good and the bad, as I entered and walked along the Wall. Come take a walk with me!
The end of the trail. Here is the last tower at Jiankou. You cannot go further in this direction past the tower as the trail is dangerous. (I am sure some adventurous souls do so, despite the absence of the Wall and a trail!).
The wall in the fog, headed towards Mutianyu, a fully restored and easily accessible part of the Wall.
Thirdeyemom (aka “me”) gets accosted by the Chinese paparazzi! These hikers nearly fell over when they saw me. A almost-forty-year-old-American-blue-eyed-blond! I couldn’t pass the hiking group and had to get my picture taken with at least ten people! It was hysterical! I realized that I would never ever want to be famous. What a drag!
I am laughing so much in this picture! As someone who is used to always “fitting” in, it felt strange to stand out in a crowd and capture so much attention.
This is inside one of many towers. The bottom level is where the military slept and the top level is where they kept lookout. It was cramped accommodations, as they had 20-30 men in each chamber. Luckily, the men would stay here for only a few months at a time and then return to the village for a month off while another group took over watch. This went on for many years.
My dad hiking the precarious unrestored section of the Wall.
View back towards the direction we came at Jiantou.
Our guide, Jackie, crossing over a bridge. The photo doesn’t do it justice. The Wall is relatively steep and high. The right side was for the invading Mongolians and the left side for the Chinese Empire. Per Jackie, one person died per meter of Wall built. The servants or slaves had to carry one of these large stones up hand by hand, the same route we came. Jackie told us that the first part of the Wall as built in only nine years time by over three million Chinese. It is an astounding 5,000 km long.
This cut-out was where the early Chinese militants would throw things at their prey. As time went by, they used guns to kill their enemies.
There are parts of the unrestored section that you have to get off the Wall and follow a trail. This picture was taken to show you the size of the stones that were carried on the servants backs to build the Wall, as well as the sheer size and height of the Wall. This goes for almost 4,000 miles!
The Jiantou section of the Wall has never been restored and dates back 600 years to the Ming Dynasty.
The Chinese had a rather intuitive system of alerts. They took advantage of the mountains and valleys that carried the sound. Thus, they used a call system to warn the army against a Mongolian invasion. During the daytime, they used smoke. At night, they used fire. During bad weather, they used sound. Per our guide extraordinaire, Jackie, here was the call system:
One stream of smoke meant 100 troops. Two streams of smoke meant 500 troops. Three meant 1000. Four meant 5,000. And, 5 meant 10,000+ troops or a massive invasion!
After walking across the unrestored section for a couple of hours, we finally entered the restored section of the Wall at Mutianyu. Mutianyu is a popular route for tourists as it has a gondola that whisks you up to the Wall. Clinton came here during his Presidency which the Chinese like to boast. Once on the Wall here, though, it is no walk in the park. It is still quite steep and at times, dangerously steep on the vertical stairwells leading up and down from the towers. Yet, the path is easier as you don’t have to manoeuver through shrubs and misplaced stones.
This section of the Wall is the restored area called Mutianyu. It is really too bad that the sun didn’t come up as I am certain the fall colors and the grandeur and scope of the Wall would have been sensational. Per Jackie, the Great Wall of China passes through nine provinces! If only I could see that far!
As we entered Mutianyu, along with the restored wall came more people. Obviously it is much easier to get here than at Jiantou! The crowds still dull in comparison to Badaling. Thank goodness I didn’t go there!
If only my pictures turned out and it was clear! You can vaguely see the lines of the Wall stretching up around the ridges of the mountains.
Along with the tourists, came the Chinese brides who took the gondola up dressed in white for their pre-wedding photos.
We Americans are superstitious and generally don’t get our photos until after the wedding. Normally it is considered bad luck to see the bride before you are married. I know this tradition is changing but I was pretty adamant on this tradition.
After five and a half long hours and aching knees along the Great Wall of China, it was time to be like a tourist and take the lazy way down. We rode the gondola and it was great!
As we left Mutianyu, we were swarmed by eager Chinese vendors trying to sell us a t-shirt or trinket for less than a dollar. It was three or four blocks of tourist hell. And this was Mutianyu! I can only imagine what the big touristy Badaling must be like! No wonder they call it the Badaling Blues!
We arrived in the car park at Mutianyu, thrilled to see our driver awaiting our weary feet. We were tired, dirty and hungry yet elated to have walked the Great Wall of China. It was the highlight of the trip and a day that I’ll never forget. For days like these are why I travel. To marvel and be amazed at our big, brilliant world!
Stay tuned…much more China to come, sprinkled in with some other interesting posts about life, culture and giving back! Thanks for reading!
Ok…these may not be the best videos but I thought they were worth sharing with you so you can get a sense of what the unrestored section of the Wall is like at Jiantou.
Here are two relatively short clips I recorded with my iPhone upon taking my first steps along the Great Wall of China at Jiantou. Sorry if they are rather unprofessional or my commentary is a bit silly! I decided to suck in my pride a bit and share the videos as it does give you a great sense of what the Wall is like. So please click on the links below and take a walk along the Wall with me! Enjoy!
(P.S….the first one goes sideways….still trying to figure out this new iPhone!).
Author’s note: This is part two of three posts on my visit to China’s Great Wall. To read my earlier post, click here.
The fog nestled tightly around the mountains above, giving off an eerie, surreal setting for undoubtably China’s most spectacular man-made wonder. I was perplexed and felt rather naive in my earlier belief that the Great Wall of China was built on flat land.
“You mean to tell me that the wall is way up there, built along the ridge of the mountains and lost somewhere in the clouds?” I asked Jackie, craning my neck upwards trying to find the hidden landmark.
Jackie, our 26-year-old Beijing guide (who seemed a little bit lost himself) just shook his head and said “yes” with a sigh. I wasn’t sure whether or not he understood how far and difficult the hike would be. His clothing (i.e. dress slacks, button-down pink shirt, light blue sweater vest and sneakers) seemed to give him away. He was not a hiker. He was not even the least bit athletic. But he was knowledgable and that was the most important thing of all. He knew his stuff like the back of his hand. Facts, figures and historical perspectives were easily given and recited to our thirsty ears.
Aboveis a picture of the second hill we had to cross in order to get to the main mountain leading up to the wall. I tried my best to take a good pictures of the steepness of the trail (it is in brown leading up the center of the “hill”) but I found it impossible to do in a short amount of time. We had a lot of work ahead of us so we had to keep moving! Plus it was so steep that there weren’t many opportunities to safely stop.
We reached the base of the second “hill” and began climbing up. From this point on, it was no longer a hike at all. Instead, it was going straight up using our fingers to grasp large rocks and tree branches to literally pull ourselves up. I could tell my dad was getting a little nervous at this point. Not at all for himself: He had already climbed more mountains than I can remember (and he is 69 years old!). He was worried about me and having to explain to my husband, children and mother how I fell and broke my back trying to climb up to the Great Wall. That wouldn’t do!
I could tell that Jackie was lagging behind yet he was desperately trying to be the good Chinese leader and guide that he aspired. His face was drenched in sweat, his pastel blue sweater vest was placed into his backpack after much convincing and he continually questioned our age. “You’re in your mid-twenties, right” he asked, almost desperately. He seemed completely mystified that my father at his age was having no problem at all climbing up the side of a dirty mountain. Jackie believed most Chinese men at his age would be withering away in bed!
“Ah, you Amercains are strong. So very strong!” he raved, encouragingly and slightly embarrassed by being passed by two people well over his age. “Us Chinese are not strong” he said, convinced in his belief that Chinese people are not athletes.
I found Jackie’s viewpoint and ongoing compliments to be hilarious! Weren’t it the Chinese people who made this very same wall by climbing up these very same steep paths over 2,000 years ago with stones on their back?! Perhaps it was just him who was out of shape!
Jackie in the lead, waiting up above as we pried our hands and fingers into the dirt and grabbed rocks to pull ourselves up the trail.
Looking down at my dad as he climbed up the trail. Now, who told us we were doing “rock” climbing? That definitely wasn’t in Lonely Planet’s description!!!!
Picture above of last hill leading up to the Great Wall.
We finally made it to the top of the second hill, feeling tired and a bit weary. It was extremely steep at the top with sheer cliffs tumbling down below. There was a wee bit of panic and emergency when I realized during our water break that we were surrounded by bees! I am somewhat fearful of bees because I am allergic and of course had no epi-pen with me! I had a brief dancing panic on the top of the mountain and my dad nearly had a heart attack that I would fall. We abruptly climbed down the peak and headed up the third, and last mountain to reach the wall. No wonder there was no one else on the trail! You would have to be crazy!
Here is my dad making it down a very steep part of the “trail”. Are we insane?
By the third hill, we were feeling relieved to be passed the worst, or so we’d hoped. We now had to climb down the valley between the two mountains and it was VERY steep. Even I was a little worried about breaking a leg. I’d broken my foot before it was the pits. (I was in a boot for five months and had a baby and a toddler to care for!).
It was getting close to noon and there was still no sign of the wall. The smog had not lifted as we had hoped. Jackie looked like he was going to pass out during the last thirty minutes of the hike. His face was the color of cotton candy and dripping with sweat while his breathing was like a smokers’. He was also still wearing that darn pink button-down shirt over a t-shirt! Why he didn’t take it off during one of his many breaks, I don’t understand.
Finally, my dad and I had to pass him by. We knew that the hike had taken a lot longer than we’d planned and if we wanted to have any time hiking on the wall itself, that there was no time to stop. Jackie haphazardly gave in to our pleas and followed slowly up behind us. The hike wasn’t really that challenging given other hikes we’d taken (such as our 100-mile hike last year in Nepal). But the conditions were prime for an accident.
We walked on for another ten minutes or so, feeling like we were on a path to nowhere, and then just like a dream, we finally saw it. There, laying precariously atop of the ridge of the mountain, was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen: The mighty, impressive Great Wall of China.
The Great Wall of China at Jiankou, one of the relatively unknown sections of the wall that is not frequently visited by tourists, mainly due to its isolated location. The only way to get there is to hike.
At Jiankou, there are three routes up to the wall and we took the longest and hardest route. Yet, once we arrived I realized with joy and elation that the best part of seeing the wall was the journey itself, climbing up just like the Chinese did thousands of years ago.
For as Chairman Mao said: “He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man” (or woman in my case!).
Me, taking the final steps up on the ladder to the wall. What a feeling of accomplishment to be here!
View on top the wall. It was so startling and impressive that I could hardly breathe. I only wished the clouds would have been gone. To see the wall snake around the mountain ridge until the eye can no longer see would have been sensational.
We did it! My dad and I on top the Wall!
Stay tuned…part III of “Fall on the Wall” will be up soon. I will show you favorite pictures from the wall as well as provide some insight into what I learned about its magical creation. Plus you’ll get a sneak preview of what it was like to be a “movie star” surrounded by Chinese paparazzi for my moment of fame and attention as a thirdeyemom blond on top the wall.
He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man. – Mao Zedong
Photo above of the Great Wall of China at Badaling, the most heavily visited and fully restored part of the wall. Photo credited to Wikipedia Commons (Free images).
As a diehard wanderlust whose main goal in life is to see the greatest and latest of this amazing world, I’d always set my sights on leaving my footprints across the Great Wall of China. Like Machu Picchu, Ancient Rome, the mighty Himalayas and the Great Barrier Reef, the Great Wall of China was something that could not be missed.
Seeing the wall was so important to me and my dad, that it was one of the main reasons why we both wanted to go to China. If there was nothing else we liked or enjoyed during the entire trip, we would be satisfied to have walked along the Great Wall, known as one of China’s greatest engineering triumphs and perhaps one of the most remarkable manmade structures in the world.
Given my unique, thirdeye perspective to traveling, our visit to the Great Wall would be anything but normal. Most tourists choose to sign up with a Chinese tour company, jump on a huge, overcrowded tour bus and take a long, annoying day-trip to the Badaling section of the wall (which is the most-photographed and most-visited “tourist” trap in China). Most tours to Badaling start at the crack of dawn, waking unsuspected tourists out of their warm, cozy beds to lead them on an eight-hour nightmare expedition to the Wall that includes multiple stops. Instead of spending the entire time at the wall, the tour herds the tourists off like a flock of sheep to the famous Ming Tombs (who really wants to see a bunch of boring tombs?) followed by several stops to nearby jade, silk and porcelain stores where everything is way over-priced and the sales people are totally in your face. In my opinion, a visit to Badaling sounded like going to Disneyland! Who wants to ride a bus up to the fully restored wall, walk along this magnificent piece of architecture to be surrounded by loads of tourists and ride a toboggan down? It sounded like a complete joke!
So, instead of doing what most or some would say “normal” tourists would do, I decided singlehandedly to do the complete opposite. I convinced my dad into booking our own tour guide and driver through our hotel, to visit a relatively unknown, unrestored section of the wall, called Jiankou (which of course I found out about through my beloved Lonely Planet guide.
Lonely Planet describes Jiankou as follows:
For stupefying gorgeous hikes along perhaps Beijing’s most incomparable section of wall, head to the rear section of the Jiankou Great Wall. It’s a 40-minute walk uphill from the drop-off at Xizhazi Village….Tantalizsing panoramic views spread out either direction as the brickwork meanders dramatically along a mountain ridge; the settings is truly magnificent.
After reading the inviting description, I was hooked. I just needed to pry my dad a little bit which was fairly easy after a few glasses of wine.
We woke up early Sunday morning, our second day in China, to have a full breakfast and prepare makeshift sandwiches at our hotel. We knew there would be no food options available and we were more than happy to use the hotel’s french baguette and cheese (a rare find in China!) for our meal.
By 8:30 am, we were introduced to “Jackie” (of course his western name), our twenty-six-year-old tour guide who was drastically inappropriately dressed for a hike. While we were wearing hiking shoes, pants and dri-fit shirts, Jackie was dressed in slacks, a pinkish colored button down shirt, a sweater vest and sneakers. He looked like he was off to teach Sunday school, not hike the Great Wall.
We met our driver, who did not speak any english, and climbed into our four-door sedan (with no seat belts) and headed off on our forty-five minute ride to the Jiankou section of the Great Wall. The drive was our first real experience outside of crazy, congested, polluted Beijing and I was pleasantly surprised to find the road conditions to be excellent. We passed through several suburbs, villages and farms, talking the entire way long about China.
I discovered that Jackie was a wealth of information (I took several pages of thorough notes that I will use on my upcoming posts) and highly educated. He is a first generation university graduate and comes from rural China. Both of his parents are farmers and are illiterate. He is one of two children and is hopeful about the future of China. Like most Chinese, Jackie is very proud of the enormous economic changes that China has made in his lifetime. Jackie’s parents grew up wearing only one of three colors: Blue, Black or Gray. And, they ate meat only once a month. Now, many urban Chinese proudly dress like most westerners and eat meat every day. In his eyes, this was a great leap forward. Jackie believed that China was a long way’s off having a democracy. As long as the average Chinese life is impoving, the rest can wait.
We arrived in Xizhazi Village around ten o’clock. There wasn’t much there as it is very small and quite rural however we did manage to find a squat toilet and a small farmer’s market where I found a supply of dried fruits. The most notable thing I saw in the village was this fish farm below as well as the bag of Chicken’s feet (see earlier post on Chinese Street Food):
After a few minutes of asking around, Jackie finally identified the unmarked trail leading up to the Great Wall. This should have been a sign but unfortunately it was ignored.
The trail was nothing special. Just gravel littered with trash (something I still will never understand: why people litter so much on hiking trails!). The day was unfortunately overcast and the mountains were covered in China’s telltale blanket of smog. My earlier elation at being here faded fast once I realized the smog was probably here to stay.
As we hiked up the slowly escalating path, Jackie filled us in on the main details and history behind the Great Wall. The Great Wall is not one continuous wall but a collection of walls that were built and rebuilt starting in the 5th century BC through the 16th century by various dynasties. The “original”, most famous part of the wall was first built between 220-206 BC years ago by the Qin dynasty, yet little of that wall remains. The majority of the existing wall was built during the Ming Dynasty (1368 to 1644) and that is what most tourists see today.
The wall was built to keep the Mongolian and other various nomadic tribes out of the Chinese Empire. As winter set in and food became scarce, the brutal Mongolian warriors headed south in search of food, and in the process terrorized the native Chinese. Thus the wall was built as a defending line from east to west to keep these northern invadors out. Unfortunately it didn’t always work.
The statistics behind the wall are mind-boggling yet inconclusive as nobody truly knows the exact length of the wall and most figures vary. Per Wikipedia, the wall itself is measured at 6,259.6 km (3,889.5 miles) and includes 359.7 km (223.5 miles) of trenches and 2,232.5 km (1,387.2 miles) of natural barriers.
Map of the Great Wall of China (Wikipedia Commons).
As we hiked, I became infatuated with the history of the wall and what it took to build it. Slaves, indentured servants and other poor souls from the lower peasant class were forced into constructing one of the largest, most impressive engineering projects in the world. Thousands of people died and it is said that their remains were mixed in and used as building materials in the construction of the wall. Each stone of the wall was carried by hand or on the backs of the workers over 2,000 years ago! It was hard to grasp.
Fall is the perfect time to visit China’s Great Wall. The crowds are less, the temperature is good and you have a 50% chance of a relatively clear day (unfortunately we were the other 50%). The fall foliage is also quite stunning. We were at the tail end of the colors yet it was still quite beautiful.
I became so enamoured in the historical significance of the wall, that I didn’t notice the lack of fellow hikers on the trail or the thick beads of sweat dripping down Jackie’s young face. I was still severely jet-lagged and had “Sichuan” pork stomach after the questionable hot ‘n spicy meal the night before. Perhaps that was why I was lagging behind? I was tired.
As we hiked away from the village we saw a few birds and could hear the echo of dogs barking from down below. We had hoped the smog would lift but unfortunately it was there to stay. What a pity!
As the time passed, and the forty minutes guaranteed that it would take to reach the wall per Lonely Planet, I begin to wonder where in the heck we were going. The mountains were still covered in smog and the wall was no where in sight. The trail kept heading up up up and into the mist. I was starting to sweat myself so I stripped down to a t-shirt and wished I had worn shorts. The exertion of the hike was getting to me as I realized that the lackadaisical trail was becoming more steep and more unkept.
After an hour of wondering where in the hell we were, we finally passed another small group of Chinese. The sun desperately tried to peek out of the clouds and then I saw it. The first of three large “hills”.
Where is the wall? I asked Jackie. “Up there?” I said and pointed at the first large, steep hill. “No” Jackie replied, short of breath. “It is there” he declared, pointing up behind the first hill. That was my first realization that we were in for a ride. This was no forty minute walk in the park. It was a hike from hell. A real live adventure. Was I ready for it? You bet!
Stay tuned….next post will be about our “climb” up to the Great Wall. Yes, we were actually using our hands to grasp rocks and tree limbs. If my mother would have known, she would have freaked. Would we make it to the top? You’ll have to wait and see!
Author’s note: I decided to break this post down into parts due to my high level of photos and commentary. I thought it would be easier and better to read. Stay posted.
Note: This post first appeared in the Elephant Journal. It is a cummulation of my story of how I became the thirdeyemom, why I started this blog, what inspired me to make a difference in my life and others and why I began fundraising for Nepal. The link to the original post is here: Nepal was utterly amazing. How it changed me forever.
I am also going to include a copy of the post here. My trip to Nepal and my recent efforts at fundraising have made a huge impact on my life. It is a way to change the dynamic of being a simple traveler to being a compassionate human being who gives back to the community visited. I strongly believe that travel is a gift. It is important to give in return. Without further delay, here is my story.
How Nepal Changed Me
By thirdeyemom
Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long. We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet. But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal.
Photo of my dad and me at 6:30 am summit of the highest point of our Annapurna trek, Thorong-La Pass at 17,769 feet.
“Coffee. Tea” the flight attendant asked wearily. “I’ll take a coffee with sugar, please” I responded half-awake yet with a smile. We were two hours short of our 15-hour non-stop flight from Chicago to Delhi and I could hardly believe we were almost there. I had seen the sun set and rise and set again all within that time and needless to say, my body was confused. I had no idea how I’d manage to go to bed that night. It was 8 PM in India but my body was still on Minneapolis time, a bright and early 8 AM. It was going to be interesting.
As we made our final descent through the thick, dark blanket of pollution that covered Delhi I couldn’t help but think about why I was here and where I was headed: To Nepal to hike the mighty Himalayas with my beloved dad. How on earth did I come so far with such a grandiose plan for a vacation? Even I, a stay-at-home mom of two young children, couldn’t believe it was real.
My father and I have been traveling partners all my life. What started out as numerous family vacations throughout my childhood lead to annual vacations with just my dad to destinations around the world. Over the past ten years, we hiked Machu Picchu in Peru, dived in Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, hiked in Patagonia twice, played golf in Ireland, went skiing in Italy and France, and went on a safari in South Africa. My friends thought I was crazy. But I felt invigorated and alive.
Nepal was one of those elusive, mystical places in the back of our minds that we had dreamed of visiting one day. It had everything we wanted in a travel destination: Majestic scenery, world-class hiking, unbelievable mountains, and a diverse and fascinating culture. Yet it was impossibly far away and would require a fair amount of time to see. We also had no idea how safe or doable it was to hike. When thinking about Nepal, my mind easily crept to those crazy, over the top athletes who climb Mount Everest. I thought there was probably more tame hiking adventures but didn’t truly know. Thus as an actual travel destination, Nepal remained a very distant possibility. Perhaps someday we would go there.
Little did I know it would be sooner than I ever imagined. My dad and I had just returned from a spectacular hiking trip in Patagonia, Argentina where we had first caught wind of the real possibility of trekking the Himalayas in Nepal. During our trip to Patagonia, we had met an exciting couple from England who were in their sixties and had just completed the world-famous Annapurna trek the year before. My father and I listened in awe and fascination as they explained their trip and we were instantly hooked. It sounded like the trip of a lifetime that we could easily accomplish physically. Yet we just had to figure out how we could manage such a long trip. My children were only three and five years old and we would need at least two to three weeks. I wasn’t sure my mother or husband would be willing to babysit the children for that long. Thus once again, the thought of going to Nepal was placed on the back burner.
Almost like a sign of fate, my dad happened to see an article in the New York Timeson March 10, 2010 called “Hiking the Annapurna Trek Before the Road Takes Over”. Basically what the article said was that this world-renowned hike was going to be ruined within a matter of years by the building of a dirty, dusty road that would tear through idyllic villages and pristine nature and open this once hidden, mystical land to jeep, car, and bus traffic. That was all we needed to hear and it was soon decided that the time to go was now. We gingerly presented our idea to both my husband and mom who surprisingly were in full support of our plan and gave us the green light to start planning. We were thrilled.
Me and my dad at the start of the trail.
The start of the Annapurna trail is gravel now. Yet not for much longer as a road is in the process of being built from the start of the trail all the way to Manang which currently takes eight days to reach by foot.
The New York Times article recommended two trekking companies. We sent query letters and received a reply almost immediately from Earthbound Expeditions, a locally owned and run outfitter in Nepal. We received a custom itinerary that perfectly met our needs and time constraints, and had amazingly prompt replies to all my crazy questions such as the safety records of internal flights in the mountains to the availability of calling home while on the trail. I was amazed and impressed by the high level of personal attention and service given by Earthbound’s owner, Rajan. This kind of service has long disappeared from most American travel companies. We booked the trip for the end of October 2010 for a 17-day journey that inspired and excited me beyond my expectations.
The desire to give something back
Before leaving for Nepal, I made a decision that I no longer wanted to be simply a tourist that visited a country, enriched myself in all its culture and beauty, and left nothing in return, no gift behind. My new way of thinking all began on a recent trip I made which was different from anything else I’d ever done: A volunteer trip to work in Costa Rica. Although I was only there for one week, the impact volunteering made on my life and the people I helped during that short time led me to believe strongly that we must give back. Travel is a gift and it is important to give in return.
I wracked my brain for different ways I could raise money. I knew that I wanted to donate money to a non-profit organization that focuses on education in Nepal. After reading several inspirational books on education in poverty-stricken lands, I knew that this was the area to attack. I searched Lonely Planet who has an excellent listing of non-profit organizations as well as volunteer opportunities, and found just the organization I was looking for: READ Nepal.
“READ Global pioneered the concept of sustainability as an international development organization dedicated to combining education and private enterprise to make rural communities viable places to learn, build, and prosper. READ partners with rural communities to create, sustain and grow projects in a manner that is politically and culturally appropriate. READ has helped establish forty nine Community Library and Resource Centers paired with for-profit enterprises throughout Nepal and India that serve over a half million people annually and has also recently opened up a center in Bhutan”.
Nepalese children dressed proudly in their school uniforms waved as we passed them by.
Finding the right organization was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out how a stay-at-home mom could raise the money. I didn’t want to ask for donations from friends and families. Instead, I wanted to earn the money and somehow involve my children in the process so they could learn the importance of giving back.
That was where creative thinking came into play. It was summer in Minnesota, a time to be outdoors, out of our long winter’s hibernation, and back into the world again enjoying our 10,000+ lakes, beautiful parks and nature. Initially, I set a small goal of raising a couple hundred dollars for my cause. But as time went by, I realized it was possible to do more. I just had to be creative! I set my first goal at $500 and used traditional American-style activities to raise the money. In June, I ran a co-op “babysitting fundraiser” at my house on Friday mornings. Each Friday I babysat up to ten kids in exchange for a small donation. Although it was incredibly exhausting, it was a terrific success. In July, my children and I ran a car wash and lemonade stand to raise money for Read Nepal. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by the generosity of my friends and neighbors who contributed donations. Finally, in early September my family and I held our first annual yard sale in the name of charity. Through these efforts, my initial goal of $500 suddenly amassed to $2,000 and I was ecstatic! The $2,000 raised was matched by my husband’s employer, bringing the total donation to READ Nepal up to $4,000. Just like that a small idea ended up being a big help. The funds were donated a week before I boarded the plane to Kathmandu.
READ Nepal was delighted with the donation and informed me that the money would be more than enough to open up an entire library and reading center in rural Nepal. They were beyond thrilled and continually showered me with compliments and called me “their little Angel”. I was so shocked to receive such immense gratitude for what I thought was a small amount in the grand scheme of things. Yet it made me realize how much ANYTHING can do to help, especially in this economic climate. It just goes to show how far your money can go in a third world country. The gift was given and I realized that it is the things you do for others in life that makes you feel the best.
Photo of three Nepali girls dressed in their finest clothing in honor of the Festival of Lights, one of the biggest holidays in Nepal. The girls went from table to table, singing and dancing and then asking for a small donation to help pay for school.
Why the third-eye?
As a world-traveler I was completely unprepared for what I would see in India. Complete and utter chaos, poverty and pollution beyond anything I’d ever seen before in any of my travels. My heart sank. The cultural shock of India hit me like a punch. I was blown away and honestly, a bit afraid.
View of one of many slums in Delhi.
Many unpaved streets
Women living on the streets outside the US Embassy
We arrived at our hotel, thankfully without hitting someone or something in the chaotic lines that made up the roads and I took a deep breath and sigh of relief. I had heard that India was a little chaotic yet what I had just seen stirred up some serious culture shock in my normally open mind. That was when I met the owner of the hotel and he told me the most important thing I’d ever learned about traveling and culture shock: The importance of having and maintaining the third eye.
In the Hindu and Buddhist religions, the third eye is a symbol of enlightenment and wisdom and is commonly seen in Indian and East Asian countries represented by a dot, eye or mark on the forehead of deities or “enlightened beings”.
I received my third eyein a timely manner. Right after we entered the hotel, we were welcomed with a traditional marigold necklace and the third eye dotted on our foreheads to remind us that we needed to see India with an open mind. This idea stuck with me throughout the trip and was probably the best advice I could have ever received. It was so powerful that I decided that it would become the name for my new blog as it incorporated all my ideas about how I wanted to see the world and how I wanted to communicate my travel experiences with others. For travel is definitely an enormous learning adventure and when visiting other cultures, especially ones that are so incredibly different than your own, you must keep a third eye. Otherwise you would miss out on seeing what travel is really about: seeing and learning how other people around the world live, thinking about what you’ve learned, formatting opinions on it, and most importantly, sharing this knowledge with others. If you don’t have a third eye, what could you possibly learn?
Me after I received my marigold necklace and the third eye.
The trip of a Lifetime
Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long. We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet. But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal. It is one of the world’s poorest countries in which over 80% of the population is rural and the majority of people survive on less than $2 a day, not even a cup of coffee in the US. Yet, the rich culture and traditions of the people rose above the impoverished conditions that most villagers live in.
Leaving Kathmandu and heading to the mountains.
The beautiful rice terraces and lush green Kathmandu Valley.
My first sight of a fresh coat of snow over the Annapurnas in Manang took my breath away.
Along the Annapurna trail, you walk through many villages and are greeted by the rural Nepalese, goat herders, chicken sellers, mule trains, and yaks.
The Buddhist influence greets you at each village as you pass by Buddhist prayer flags, temples, prayer wheels and the smell of burning juniper.
The Buddhist influence.
Being blessed by a 94-year-old monk who lives in a cave monastery at 13,000 feet near Manang.
After completing the trek, I realized why it is called one of the best treks in the world because no other trail has such magnificent scenery and fascinating culture. No other trek I’ve done has ever gone directly through villages and has allowed me to walk side by side villages doing their daily business. We passed goat herders, mule trains, men carrying 20 chickens on their backs in a wire cage doing his sales rounds, happy children dressed in their worn school uniforms, Buddhist temples, shrines and prayer wheels and prayer flags. It felt like being on another planet. And that is what brings me back to why Nepal changed my life.
It is possible to make a difference: Little things can have big results
As our jet plane took off for home and climbed five thousand, ten thousand and then eighteen thousand feet, I realized in awe that only a few days ago I had been at almost the same altitude as the plane. It was a wild thought; almost a little frightening.
Our porter Chhring, me, our guide Hari and my dad in Manang, where the road will end. We shared many wonderful days together talking, laughing and sharing our cultures.
Where it all began….
As I looked down, I was finally was able to conceptualize how high 18,000 feet truly is. The buildings became smaller and smaller, the cars like ants lining the roads. The vastness of the green, voluptuous rice fields stacked one on top of the other, bursting in color and life. Then, for the last time, I saw the godlike, mighty Himalayas, strikingly beautiful, like a mirage of flying towers soaring upwards into the heavens of the sky. I found it hard to believe that I was really here and had really been there. It was all like a dream.
Nepal was one of those eye-opening moments in my life in which I realized not only how blessed we are to live in a free, prosperous country (where we have the pleasure of the “western toilet, clean streets without piles of garbage, education, opportunity and space), but how important it is for us as privileged people to give back. Visiting Nepal struck a chord in my heart and made me realize how impoverished these wonderfully, peaceful and loving villagers are. Over 80% of Nepalese live in rural areas that have little or no access to education. I believe strongly that education is the key to a better future and a better life. From that trip on, I was determined to change my life and figure out a way to keep giving back.
This young Nepali girl made me smile.
Almost as if an act of fate, I somehow or another found a way to follow my dreams and continue my work fundraising for education in Nepal. As we were leaving Kathmandu, Rajan, the owner of Earthbound Expeditions, our trekking company, gave me his card and mentioned some of the social work he is involved with in Nepal. On the back of the card was the small, grass-roots NGO called HANDS in Nepal. As soon as I got home, I contacted them. It was the perfect fit and my charity work continued.
Over the last six months, I have raised money to help HANDS in Nepala small grass-roots organization created by a young American Danny Chaffin. HANDS in Nepal’s mission is to create educational opportunities and community development programs in rural Nepal by building schools, donating educational supplies, teacher’s salaries, and student scholarships. I have done most of my fundraising work through the sale of beautiful, homemade Nepali goods such as pashmina scarves, yak-hair blankets, and purses and bags. Since May, I’ve sold over $4,000 of my Nepali wares and over half of that profit goes back to HANDS in Nepal (after taking in account the cost of the products, shipping and customs). It has been a win-win opportunity as the sale of the products not only benefit HANDS in Nepal but also the rural, poor Nepalese people who are making and supplies these little treasures for me to sell.
I have also used my second annual yard sale as a way to raise money for HANDS in Nepal. After scraping together all my old clothing and miscellaneous items that we no longer need, I was able to raise $540 for HANDS in Nepal.
Perhaps $540 sounds like nothing. Yet, it does make a difference. What does $540 do in Nepal? This money can buy:
A composition notebook and pencil for 540 children.
-or-
Two school workbooks and a composition notebook for 108 children.
-or-
A school uniform and backpack for 54 children.
-or-
Chalkboard and teacher supplies for 10 classrooms.
-or-
A book set for 27 classrooms.
-or-
Bench seating and work tables for 27 classrooms (approximately 40 children per room)
-or-
Almost enough for one teacher’s salary for an entire year.
-or-
A combination of some of the above items.
In a country where 82% live in rural communities and have little or no access to education, and the average daily salary is less than $2 a day, this small amount of money goes a long way in fighting poverty and helping educate Nepal’s future generation. With a literacy rate of barely over 50%, there is a long way to go. However, it is my belief that every effort, no matter how small, can help make the world a better place.
There is something so special and magical about giving back that just makes me feel complete and my hope is that I can eventually reach the $8,000 mark to build a new school in rural Nepal and have a lasting impact on an entire village and generation of people. It will take time of course to raise the money but with the help of my friends, family and children as well I plan to achieve it!
Photo above of Jan and her son Danny along with the children of the new school made possible by HANDS in Nepal.
Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Lago Nahuel Huapi, Villa La Angostura or Narrow Village is named after its location on a narrow isthmus. It is a sleepy, quiet town which receives much less traffic and tourism than Bariloche. What a pity! For it is a secret treasure of beauty and serenity and there are few others there to share it.
Located about 50 miles/81 km north of Bariloche, this hidden jewel is an amazing place to spend the day or night or couple of nights (if you have the time). Like Bariloche, it is crammed with dramatic, spectacular scenery of the aquamarine Lago Nahuel Huapi juxtaposed against the craggy, snow-covered mountains in the background. Combine the heavenly landscape with fragrant hikes along the beech trees and alluring views, trout fishing galore and all the boating you could desire, Villa La Angostura rated on the top of my list for perfect undiscovered travel destinations.
Of course we couldn’t go there just to look around (you can do that but not my dad and I who are highly energetic and very active people). We had to find a hike! Fortunately Villa La Angostura is full of hikes with sensational views to make it worth your effort.
The main nature lover’s paradise in town is the fabulous Parque Nacional Bosque Arrayanes which is home to one of the only arrayanes forests in the world. Arrayanes are actually bushes not trees and can grow up to 66-feet high! The trail is flat but long. It takes 2-3 hours to walk and you can also do it by bike. Unfortunately we didn’t have enough time to do the entire thing, however, what we did do of the trek was highly worthwhile. The views along the way were absolutely stunning and perhaps some of the finest we had seen during our entire trip to Argentina.
Here they are….
Entering the small, quaint town. What a lovely place!
The main marina at the lake….I love the bird soaring high above and the mountains in the back…WOW!
The entrance to the hike. Note that my dad is wearing shorts. He always wears shorts, no matter what. Thus those earlier photos of him hiking in the snow in shorts, well that is a diehard Minnesotan for you!
Start of the hike….simply beautiful and inviting
My favorite picture from the trip…Springtime in Argentina!
Entering a wooded wonderland….
The gorgeous green-blue water as seen through the trees…..
Ahhhh….the Patagonian Lakes District in its finest! Incredibly beautiful!
thirdeyemom taking it all in and enjoying the view…..
Sadly all good trips must come to an end. This was our last day in Argentina. A beautiful, perfect day. We couldn’t ask for more. Just that we could come back again…which we did in 2008. Hope to see my beloved Argentina again soon!
Stay tuned….thirdeyemom is headed to her beloved Chicago this weekend to get together with an old friend and remember the years living there in the nineties as well as her big fat Chicago wedding in 2000! Thought it would be excellent blogging material! I love the windy city!
The Argentine lakes district is a tourism haven, stretching from Junin de los Andes in the north to the town of Esquel down south bordering Patagonia. It is beautiful territory awash with snow-capped jagged peaks, lush green forests, trout-filled rivers, and lots and lots of brilliantly blue lakes. One could spend a full week or two just in this area checking out the beautiful towns and villages surrounding the Chilean and Argentine Lakes District. It offers something for everyone year-round: From hiking, golfing, fishing, and sailing to skiing and of course, world-class dining. If you have the time, you can take a boat through the lakes region hitting towns in both Argentina and Chile.
We of course only had five full days to explore. We were traveling once again, “American-style” meaning trying to pack as much in as possible within a short time frame. Now this is not the recommended way to travel or the desired method either: It is the kind of travel you do when you either don’t have much vacation time (in my opinion, most Americans fit into this category) or have a wonderful mother who has offered to fly into town and watch my one-year-old and three-year-old children for me while my husband is slaving away all day at the office to pay the bills.
Bottom line: Beggars can’t be choosers. I felt rather fortunate to be going to Argentina while my other mom friends were busy changing diapers. It was a much-needed break from my day-to-day life of spending 24/7 taking care of two small children. I was going to enjoy every moment of it! Eating meals without scarfing it down in five minutes flat. Sleeping in past 5 am. Wait….sleeping all night long without being woken up by a crying child. Bonus! Taking a shower in peace. Reading a book. Talking to adults. Hmmm…there is a lot I hadn’t been doing recently that I realized I truly was missing in my life. Five days in San Carlos de Bariloche (or simply called Bariloche) was bound to save my withering, sleep-deprived, over-worked diaper-changing soul.
We arrived in Bariloche mid-afternoon after two hour flight from Buenos Aires. San Carlos de Bariloche is the second most visited place in Argentina mostly due to its gorgeous location surrounding the Nahuel Huapi National Park which provides a nature lover and outdoor adventurer’s paradise. It is not a large town yet has all the dining and adventures possible to keep the tourists and Argentine’s alike happy.
We took a cab the short ten-minute ride to town which is non-eventful except for its beautiful location next to stunning Nahuel Huapi lake, a gem in itself. We had booked a hotel at the Design Suites thanks to the recommendation of one of our friends. The hotel was a short distance from town yet the views of the lake and glistening snow-capped mountains was breathtaking and worth the walk.
Here is a picture looking out from our room at the dining and reception area of the Design Suites. Our suite had a balcony which was perfect for drinking a glass of wine. I could have stared at this sensational view all day long:
After checking into our hotel, we decided to check out the town and scope our dining selection for the night. For such a small city, Bariloche has surprisingly excellent restaurants. We ate to our hearts content each and every night of our stay.
The first night, we ate at a Swiss Fondue restaurant called Familia Weiss, a family owned restaurant that is known throughout the area for its delightful array of cheeses and smoked meats. The German Swiss decor reminded me of being right back in Switzerland and the food was unbelievably authentic. We ate the entire pot of cheese fondue stuffing ourselves silly while ignoring the tremendous amount of fat we had just put into our body. We were on vacation right? We’d work it off!
The next morning, feeling incredibly full from our highly saturated fatty meal, we rented a car to go do some hiking. The car was delivered right to our hotel but to our dismay it didn’t work! Luckily one of the friendly Design Suites staff was able to give us a jump-start and set us on our way. I’d noticed that Argentina has its far share of broken down cars that littered the streets everywhere. I didn’t want to become one of the numbers!
We headed north the short distance to the oldest and most popular national park in Argentina, Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi to do some day hiking. Per Frommers (2004):
“The park is known for the glacial-formed Lake Nahuel Huapi and its lovely forested peninsulas and waterways that often provoke comparison to the channels of southern Patagonia or the fjords of Norway”.
After visiting Chile’s world-famous Torres del Paine National Park in 2003, I couldn’t wait to see Nahuel Huapi for myself. Would it be as spectacular as Torres del Paine, a place that made me fall in love with Patagonia and dream of coming back?
It was indeed stunning and spectacularly beautiful yet nothing in comparison to the rugged, wild Patagonian Torres del Paine. I was disappointed for I was expecting Patagonia. Yet Bariloche still had its beauty and charm. Just a different kind of beauty that was more tranquil, serene and fresh. For those people who don’t want or have the energy to travel all the way south to Patagonia, Bariloche and the other towns of the Lakes District make a reasonable choice. The beauty will not disappoint, nor the amenities of having a town.
Here are some photos of our day hike in the Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi:
After our visit to the park, we drove to the finest five-star resort in Bariloche, the infamous Llao Llao (pronounced “jow jow”) hotel. It was stuffy yet spectacular in its own right with its wooden lodge styled resort and green golf courses. Worth a visit but not somewhere I’d want to stay.
We headed back to our lovely, hip hotel and had some Argentine Malbec before heading out to our next dining adventure at a trendy, small restaurant called Kandahar. We were the first to arrive at 8:30 pm to blaring Pink Floyd and a server who offered to pay for our $50 bottle of wine if we didn’t like it. He was that confident and that right. The food was outstanding, shocking me that such a small city could have such an amazing dining scene. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and even more so, tomorrow night’s meal!
Stay tuned…next post will document our attempt to really get some serious exercise and follow the Argentine’s at doing the major hike in town.
On Saturday, December 6th it was our third day in Sydney and my 32nd Birthday. It felt a little strange given the time change as it really wasn’t my birthday at home in the States. It was only December 5th. But in the land Down Under, today was the day so why not celebrate? (I was still at the age where I enjoyed my birthday and still felt relatively young…ha).
It was a free day ahead and I got to pick what to do. Of course I wanted to do something outdoors, athletic and meaningful. Thus we decided to take a train to the Blue Mountains, a place known for its spectacular scenery and fabulous hikes. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate my birthday than bushwalking (as the Aussies say). Hiking is one of my favorite sports.
The Blue Mountains are roughly 3,000 feet high and are considered a cool area rainforest. I had read that it is not only a mecca for Sydneysiders who love to do day trips to escape the heat and crowds, but it is also one of Australia’s best known playgrounds with tons of opportunities for adventures sports. The guide book recommended a couple of days. We only had an afternoon, so we decided to make the best of it.
We took the two-hour ride to the mountain town of Katoomba hoping that the unusual cloudy and cool weather would pass. We wanted to experience that fantastic perfect summer weather that Sydney is known for. All I had were shorts since I had expected it to be summery weather. Little did I know, it was going to be freezing as soon as we stepped off the train in the Blue Mountains. It was even colder there than the mere 60 degree weather in Sydney. Brutal.
We arrived at our stop at the town of Katoomba, freezing cold and hungry. It was perfect grazing weather so we decided to test out a couple of the delightful bakeries lining the street. After loading up on pastries and treats, we headed for the trails to do our bushwalk and work it off.
We tramped around the rainforest for awhile, marveling at all the beauty and sights. It was the perfect way to spend my birthday: Doing something I love and being with my dad.
After fully exhausting ourselves and using up all our sugary-induced energy, we headed back to Sydney for one last hurrah at the fabulous restaurant looking right out at the Opera House. We indulged in a huge, gourmet pig out with two bottles of wine and cake. It felt great to be 32. I was looking forward to the rest of the trip.
Here are some photos from the day:
The Blue Mountains were absolutely stunning even in the cloudy, cool weather. The hiking trails are awash with ferns and gorgeous trees. You pass many waterfalls and scenic viewpoints such as the one below.
Birthday girl in the Blue Mountains….if only I could be 32 again!
Bushwalking in the Blue Mountains with my dad:
Deeper into the rainforest it was as dark as night. There were also many waterfalls along the way plus loads of my beloved ferns.
A dinner to remember right next to the Opera House and a show at the Opera
Stay tuned…next post I’m off to the Great Barrier Reef for my first dive!
Yesterday was my last hike in the White Mountains of Arizona. It wasn’t the hike that I had imagined or wanted to do. Not the 16-miler haul to Mount Baldy. Instead, it was a much shorter hike to a different part of the White Mountains where perhaps we would be able to see some wildlife and scenic views.
We left early in the morning and unfortunately the monsoon clouds were already forming and turning black. It was not a good sign yet we were already in the car and on our way. Plus I’d been offered a free babysitting morning from my mother so I couldn’t pass that up.
My dad and I pulled into the trailhead for the Blue Ridge Trail around 9:30 am hoping it wouldn’t rain. We were mainly going on this hike to view wildlife as I still had not seen a thing since I’ve been here except for a giant bullfrog and a jackrabbit hare the size of a small dog.
The mountains of Arizona is known for a huge variety of both big and small mammals as well as a very diverse assortment of birds. I was hoping to avoid the big mammals such as the Black and Cinnamon (very rare) beers that range for 300 mile territories. I also had no desire to see a Mountain Lion, Coyote or Wolf lurking around. Yet I did want to see a Rocky Mountain Elk or a Mule Deer. That was the main reason why we selected this trail.
We set off walking against lingering clouds and stillness in the air. I also tend to talk a lot and walk with a nervous gait when I know there are bears around. I know they generally are more afraid of you yet I wouldn’t want to find out the hard way, especially if we surprised a mama bear with cubs.
We walked for an hour or so through the trail and saw absolutely no wildlife or views. We were quite disappointed. However, I did see something that was spectacular: The trees. The trail hosted the craziest, spookiest, and most beautiful trees I’d ever seen beside from the firs. Some looked like ghosts or monsters while others just looked plain old weird. I also thought that the alligator junipers with their scaly grey trunks were wild.
Here are some pictures of what I saw. Hope you enjoy!
Also, at the end are some photos taken to another short hike we did that day to a scenic view of the Mongollon Rim. The Mongollon Rim is the dividing line between the Colorado Plateau and the Gila-Salt River watersheds, and contains the largest grove of freestanding Ponderosa Pines in the world. It is quite a spectacular place.
Note to readers: I am here on vacation in the White Mountains of northeast Arizona, home to the largest freestanding Ponderosa Pine Trees in the world, thinking that I would be writing my next few posts on a past trip to Australia. Before leaving, I uploaded all my pictures from Australia and prepared some of the posts. Yet, when I arrived here in the small, hilltop town of Show Low, Arizona, I realized that I was missing the “third eye”. There is plenty of incredible awe-inspiring nature, beauty and culture here to write about. I just had to use that “third-eye” approach and get out there and find it. So instead of Australia, I’m going to write my next few posts on this relatively unknown area of the world: The White Mountains. I will write about the firs, the pines and the most beautiful monsoon clouds I’ve ever seen. Here is my first post in this series. Hope you enjoy! thirdeyemom
We rose early to the morning sun lighting up the pine tree tops lining the White Mountains. The morning sky was azure blue with not a single cloud in the sky. That would surely come later. For we are in the tail end of monsoon season in Arizona where the magical clouds slowly appear, form and become bigger, whiter, brighter and then darker before they release their angry water.
Three generations were going on a hike today. My father, myself and my six-and-a-half-year-old son. We were off to see the tallest mountain in this part of the state, the sacred Mount Baldy. At 11,4000 feet, Mount Baldy is home to some of the oldest, most beautiful Douglas Firs in the world. Some of them dated from 300-350 years old! We were going to find them.
We took the White Mountain Scenic Byway for a little over an hour, driving through some of the other small towns along the way. We passed through meadows, fields of wildflowers and lots and lots of Ponderosa Pines (some dating over 700 years old!). It was a beautiful ride that took us through some unbelievable scenery. I had to pinch myself to remember that we were in Arizona as we had left the desert and cactus long ago.
The last stop before entering Mount Baldy is the huge White Mountain Apache Indian Reservation. There is the usual casino followed by a stark poverty which is very sad. Even the casinos have not been enough to help them here, in this remote part of the country.
As we drive up to the start of the hike to Mount Baldy, we admire the gorgeous, fragrant pines that dot the landscape. These pines could have all been swallowed up in the most recent and largest wild fire in the state of Arizona. The May 2011 Wallow Fire which was started by some careless campers, engulfed 525,000 acres of ancient pines and took over six weeks to put out. It was stopped before reaching Mount Baldy. It would have been even more of a tragedy if these incredible trees were all destroyed.
Here we are at one of the entrances to the trail. Roundtrip the hike is 16 miles, way too much to do with my young son. So we would just hike an hour to the wall and back. We would be certain to find lots of nature and firs.
I had to take a picture of Dad’s notorious backpack with his Nepal patch that we got sewn in when we were there.
Picture of my son and I on our first hike together.
Grandpa and Max setting off..
Entering one of the trail heads to Mount Baldy.
The once cloudless sky is no longer as the monsoon glistening white clouds begin to form above the pines.
Entering the first part of the forest which is mostly pines. You can hear the distant woodpecker searching for food and the bees buzzing.
There are three meadows to pass through before we hit the deep woods. We don’t see any elk just lots of wildflowers.
More clouds are forming. We have until eleven to get off the mountain before the monsoon starts and lightning flashes.
Finally we are inside the fragrant, deep forest searching for 300-year-old Douglas Firs. We found one!
The size of these trees is unbelievable.
When you look at the bark, you can see years and years of fire damage. Yet, somehow these trees have managed to survive and even thrive.
Looking up to the Gods.
Our destination: The wall. Here is where you start heading up but for us it was the perfect lunch spot.
Grandpa and Max sharing a picnic.
After lunch, it was time to head back. The monsoon clouds were forming and getting darker and darker. Along the way, we saw lots of beautiful, special things in the forest. It was fun teaching Max about how things grow.
Here is how the Douglas Firs start….
And lots and lots of colorful mushrooms!
Me saying goodbye to this lovely tree.
The beautiful things I found in the forest…
Showing Max how to count the rings and age the tree:
As we leave, just on time, the clouds continue to form and develop into magical, white, marshmallows…
We are out just in the nick of time….for the clouds begin to darken and the unavoidable afternoon storm began…
