As you have probably gathered from my last few posts, I did something very special over the last few days. Me, my father and my five-year-old daughter Sophia took a three-generational ski trip to Taos, New Mexico. It was the first time (except when Sophia was a meager four-months old) that I had ever truly traveled alone with my daughter and it also was the first time the three generations got together for a weekend away. My son and husband were off on their own adventure thus it was just me and Sophia this time.
We picked Taos for many reasons. First, it is relatively easy for us to access. It is a non-stop flight from Tucson where my father lives as well as from Minneapolis (where I live). Second, it is really a cool little trendy ski town. Nothing at all like the big ski resorts in Colorado or even Utah. Taos is tiny, tough and has a unique southwestern style and flair that quite honestly can’t compare. Finally, for some reason New Mexico is the only place in the country this winter that actually has good snow. Colorado, Utah and Northern California are struggling with terrible snow. Meanwhile relatively untouristy, trendy Taos has plenty of snow. That fluffy, powdery, heavenly snow that skiers dream and drool about having.
It’s something of a paradox. The more untamed, untrampled a place, the more it seems to soothe the soul. Even as it races the heart. – Advertisement of skiing the Ridge in the Taos Visitor Guide.
Taos Ski Valley view from Kachina Peak at the Ridge. A ski purist heaven that only recently opened its doors to snowboarding two years back.
Today I became an official “Ridgehead”. I climbed and skied the Ridge, a no man’s land of off piste skiing located at the top of Kachina Peak at 12,481 feet. It was an exhausting endeavor which quite frankly I had no business doing. Yet, did I enjoy it and was it worth the effort and the pain? Yes! It was an adventure that I had not yet accomplished in skiing and even if I was breathing heavy and my legs burned each and every step of the way, it was so incredibly worth the view and the accomplishment.
To access the ridge is half the battle. You take the last chair lift up to the top at 11,819 feet, take off your skies and carry them on your shoulder in heavy snow for an hour and fifteen minutes up to 12,481 feet. The walk up is arduous and exhausting. You gain over 600 feet in elevation and are doing it wearing uncomfortable ski boats and lugging your skies and poles up each breathless step of the way.
Yesterday my five-year-old daughter Sophia and I left for our first three-generational ski trip. My father, me and Sophia headed west to test out the slopes in Taos, New Mexico.
The last time I’d been to Taos was at least fifteen years ago, when my family and I took the ten-hour drive from Tucson to Taos in the “purple people-eater” minivan. (Don’t have any idea where the name came from but it stuck). Over the years, Taos has become quite an interesting albeit historic town known for its flavorful mix of art culture, gay community and Bohemianism. If that isn’t enough to bring you there, Taos’ world class skiing should (without the insane crowds as trendy venues like Vail and Telluride). When my dad proposed taking our annual weekend ski trip out west, Taos instantly came to mind as a place to revisit.
Getting to Taos is pretty much equivalent to going to Colorado as it requires a two and a half hour flight followed by a two to three-hour drive. But the main difference between the two is size. Colorado ski areas are huge and Taos is just one little resort tucked away and isolated in the mountains. Continue reading →
“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins
Around five o’clock we boarded our ship for the night, the lovely Milford Manner and sailed off into the sparkling blue depths of the world famous Milford Sound. We felt quite lucky to have such amazing weather and no rain in sight in a place that normally receives rain an average 330 days per year.
View from our ship, the Milford Manor, of the Milford Sound in all her splendor.
Another small ship paved the way ahead but besides this other ship, we were the only ones around.
The Milford Sound travels for ten miles/sixteen kilometers before the fiord meets the Tasman Sea. It is one of the most remote areas of New Zealand in which most of it is impenetrable except the fiord itself and the 34 mile/55 km track which is considered one of the top treks in the world.
After traveling to the world-famous fiords of Norway and being blown away by their sensational beauty, I knew that Paul and I would have to make time for a trip down south to New Zealand’s Fiordland National Park.
Fiordland National Park is located on the Southwestern part of New Zealand’s South Island and is the country’s largest park with over 21,000 square km/8,100 square miles of pristine forests, mountains and lakes. The region is composed of over 14 fiords and five major lakes that are flanked by steep, jagged mountains coated in rainforest making this part of the world virtually impenetrable except along the 310 miles of tracks (hiking trails) or by boat. I had heard that Fiordland offered some of the best scenery in all of New Zealand and after the sheer, pure beauty we had seen so far, I couldn’t imagine that we would see anything finer.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain
The New Zealand Silver Fern, the symbol of purity and beauty.
The Routeburn Track in the South Island of New Zealand is perhaps one of the finest hikes in the world. It rates up there with neighboring Milford Track as well as the world-famous Annapurna Trek in Nepal.
The 24 mile/29 kilometer Routeburn Track generally takes three days and climbs up to some of the most spectacular, pristine temperate rain forest and alpine scenery in the world. Unfortunately my husband and I only had one day allocated to a tramp (what the Kiwi’s call hiking) along the Routeburn Track, and we were going to make the most of it. Given what we had already seen of Queenstown and the surrounding area, we knew that our visit to Routeburn would be one of the best parts of the trip and we weren’t at all disappointed.
Below is a panoramic shot of the view at the top of the Routeburn Track….a view that we didn’t get to see. This means we’ll have to someday go back and do the whole thing! (Photo credit Wikipedia Commons).
Photo above taken just outside of Queenstown, New Zealand.
The drive from Christchurch southbound to Queenstown was perhaps the most spectacular, awe-inspiring drive of my life. It rated up there with the scenic, mountainous drives on the tops of the Austrian and Swiss Alps, two drives I have done back in my Euro-craze days (I was obsessed with Europe in my twenties and have been there over a dozen times, constantly exploring as many places as I could cram in).
After a few hours of intense motion sickness, I accepted my fate and cursed myself for over-indulging the day before on the Waipara Valley Wine Tour. Oh well. The handful of mouth-watering, lip-puckering NZ Sav Blanc’s certainly tasted delightful at the time!
Around three o’clock, exhausted of driving along the serpentine, rolling roads of Southern New Zealand, we saw signs that we were nearing Queenstown, the adventure tourism capital of New Zealand. The verdant fields of white fluffy sheep slowly disipated while signs of life and civilization appeared. About a half hour or so out of town we saw our first sign of New Zealand’s Adventure Playground for adults: The first ever real, live bungee jump!
Bungee jumping hit the world stage in 1986 by New Zealand’s very own A J Hackett, who fearlessly dived from the top of the Eiffel Tower with nothing but a rubber cord attached to his ankles. The craze caught on and there was no better place to offer this kind of adrenaline-pumping extreme “sport” than in the adventure paradise and capital, Queenstown.
New Zealand is one of the most isolated countries in the world. Made up of two, vastly unique large islands known as the North and the South Islands and a number of smaller ones, New Zealand lies about 990 miles/1,600 km east of Australia in the South Pacific Ocean. Comparable in size to Japan or the British Isles but without an enormous population (only 4.4 million people total), New Zealand is one of the best kept secret treasures for adventurous travelers. Its pure beauty, ease of travel and endless things to do make it one of the best tourist destinations in the world, and a place I could only someday dream of living in.
What makes New Zealand so incredibly fascinating is its diverse landscape. While the North Island is filled with volcanoes, rugged mountains, and thermal areas, the South Island is completely different and accounts for only 25 percent of New Zealand’s entire population (as of 2011 there are roughly 1 million inhabitants in the entire South Island as compared to over 3 million in the North Island). The South Island is dominated by the Southern Alps mountain chain which runs along almost the entire length of the island and is blessed with over 223 named peaks. The eastern side of the alps is dry and largely non-forested, while the west side has much more rainfall lending to magnificent rainforests, lakes, mountains and glaciers. The lack of inhabitants combined with the utterly spectacular landscape in the South Island make it a traveler’s paradise and I couldn’t think of a better way to see it than by taking a 6 hour car ride down south.
We landed on the emerald-green South Island of New Zealand into sheets of rain. After three flights and twenty plus hours of flying, we had finally made to Christchurch, New Zealand. Middle Earth as it is known in the fictitious, yet sensational Lord of the Rings.
The initial relief and excitement of finally arriving in New Zealand after months and months of planning and anticipation, was instantly flattened like a popped balloon as the all too familiar disappointment and letdown set in. I honestly have no idea why I experience this kind of traveler’s schizophrenia. But it always happens and always on the first day of arrival. Perhaps it is the fact that I typically spend months planning a trip, dreaming about it and getting my emotions all worked up. Then when I finally get to that place I’d been dreaming about forever (in this case, over a year of planning was involved), my emotions collapse. Or else it could be the complete exhaustion and jet lag of traveling across 19 time zones. Seeing the sun set, and set, and rise once more.
It didn’t help that the weather was dreadful. Here we were in the midst of springtime in New Zealand and the weather was equally as bad if not worse than the gray, cold November days we were trying desperately to escape in Minnesota. It was a meager forty degrees farenheit and the rain was unending, bitter and cold. I felt my spirits dwindling down like the pouring rain. But I knew only too well that I couldn’t let poor weather spoil my fun. My husband and I had waited over a year for this trip and we intended to have an unforgettable time.
Me, before being a thirdeyemom, on the South Island of New Zealand, with Mount Cook across the aquamarine lake.
I always find it hard starting a new series of posts. I find myself delaying that first step and sitting at my computer with that dreaded writer’s block trying to conjure up the enthusiasm for beginning anew.
My China posts were so easy and a pleasure to write for several reasons. First of all, the trip was recent and fresh in my mind. Second of all, I took over 800 pictures and kept meticulous pages of notes. And last of all, I traveled with a blogger’s mindset and in particular, my “third-eye” approach. I used my “third eye” to expand my horizon and search out things I wouldn’t normally see. Thus, my trip to China was by far one of the most enriching trips I’ve taken and wound up being a pleasure to write about.
I thought long and hard about whether or not I could write a series of posts on a place I visited over ten years ago. New Zealand. It was a road trip my husband and I took in November 2002. I don’t have 800 pictures. The photos all had to be scanned. And, it was a long time ago. Hmmm…..would it possible?
Yes, I decided. Why not?
What I do have is one ten-year-old handwritten journal, a photo album filled of memories and a passion for sharing my travels around the world, especially with my most favorite places like New Zealand. So why not? I am going to give it a whirl and tell you about my two weeks of heaven in Middle Earth, the land of The Lord of the Rings. A place that captured my heart and soul and ranked one of the top trips of all time.
After reading this series of posts you will agree that New Zealand is one of the loveliest places on earth. And I can’t wait to share it with you!
Yesterday was a gorgeous winter day here in Minneapolis. The sun was shining brightly, launching its powerful, magical rays across the glittering white snow-packed ground. The birds were chirping cheerfully and it was unseasonably warm. Almost 40 degrees F which is considered balmy in Minnesota (if it is above 20 in January or February, we are considered lucky). It was the first morning in a long time that I woke up and literally sprang out of bed to the call of my children greeting me “Mama. Mama. Maaaaaaa-maaaa!” I instantly opened their bedroom shades and jumped with joy. Yeah! The sun is here! I was so happy to see my long lost friend.
My kids thought I was a bit crazy but they don’t understand my need for sunshine and vitamin D. It is said that most people living in northern climates are highly insufficient of vitamin D in the winter months. This can lead to intense fatigue (check), lethargic behavior (check) and sometimes depression (hmm….I have been feeling a bit blue). In winter months, our days are short and the nights are long. Although it can be quite sunny in the winter, the sunshine often brings bitter cold forcing you to hibernate and be trapped inside your home staring longingly outside your window wishing for spring.
Yesterday was different. Not only was the sun shining brightly, but our typical January thaw had arrived! For a few days we would get this nice warm weather (you know I’m from Minnesota when I’m calling 40 warm!). Thus, I decided to take advantage of the day and spend as much time outside as possible. The morning started with a run around the lake and in the afternoon, I took my daughter snowshoeing by the Minnehaha Falls.
Here are some pictures of what we saw at the falls which freezes into a magical display of ice during the winter.
Author’s note: This is the last art on a three post series on my trip to a Chinese Water Village.
After a fascinating two-hour speed tour through lovely Zhouzhuang, it was time to head out and catch our ride back into Shanghai before the horrendous weekend traffic arrived. Our tour guide Gloria told us that traffic in urban cities was particularly bad on Fridays because many of the migrant factory workers returned home to their villages. It was nearing two pm and we were getting close to hitting the danger zone when it comes to weekend traffic. Yet, we had to do at least a little shopping!
As with any tourist destination, Zhouzhuang has its specialties and we were ready to discover them in breakneck speed.
This is the entrance to Zhouzhuang before the actual water village starts. As you can imagine, it is stocked full with Chinese shops selling silk, art, tea and other local goodies. Gloria warned us to not buy any silk because oftentimes it is not real 100% silk as the label claims. She said that it is usually fake here unless you buy it at the source, a silk factory.
As you enter town, you see storefronts full of these tasty local treats….pork feet including toes, snouts and whatever other part of a pig available, is dipped and baked in this bean sauce…a messy, local specialty that you can get to go. I can’t imagine how messy it would be eating on the go! Yet of course I saw plenty of people doing it.
Another local treasure is crayfish like these. They were of course alive and I’m not sure how they are eaten. Since I’m not keen on this kind of gourmet indulgence, I passed. I am sure they are good and not as crazy as eating a scorpion. Yet, they did not look that appetizing to me.
The Hairy Crab is the local delicacy of Zhouzhuang as it is caught right outside the water village in the connecting lakes. Gloria informed us that tourists from all around the world come to the village just to eat these treasures and they are in season in late Fall.
This crab is saying hello to me!
This is the lake surrounding the village where the crabs are caught and that takes the fisherman all the way to Shanghai.
Zhouzhuang is also known for its spectacular fresh water pearls and delicious oyster. There were plenty of pearl shops in town and Gloria brought us to her favorite one to browse the pearls.
They were beautiful and beyond cheap.
My dad bought my mother a fresh-water pearl necklace. It was a very good deal to say the least.
While I purchased myself a pair of $3 (no joke) pearl earrings for myself and another pair for my sister. I wear them all the time and adore them. You could never find a pair of pearl earrings for $3 in the States.
As we left the water village, Gloria pointed out the hairy crabs boats and companies where the fisherman set off to capture them.
As we left Zhouzhuang, Gloria opened up more about her life. She is a mother of one child and her family owns their own apartment, a huge deal, outside of Pudong. She commutes an hour to and from work each day via bus. She is quite proud to have a college degree as her parents were part of the Cultural Revolution thus were shipped off to work in the countryside and never were able to go to university.
Gloria is very proud of China and where it is headed. We talked about the huge raise in the standard of living and the mass exodus of peasants leaving the countryside and coming into the big cities to work in factories. Many of these families leave their children behind to be raised by their grandparents and see them only on weekends. It is a tough life yet the pay in a factory is much more than in rural China. Thus despite the hardships and long hours, they are happier earning more money and hopefully giving their children a brighter future.
What I found most interesting about my conversation with Gloria was her beliefs on the three forbidden “T”‘s: Tibet, Tiananmen Square and Taiwan. I am not sure if what she told me was the “standard party line” that she had to say since she is a tour guide or if in her heart she actually believes what she is saying. Her beliefs on Tibet is that it was “rescued by the Chinese from savagery and barbarians” and that basically the Tibetans were treated like “slaves”. On Tiananmen Square, she stated that the military had to attack the people to save them from the “gangs” that were destroying the city. Finally, Taiwan was more or less the same kind of rationale. Like Tibet, Taiwan has always belonged to the Chinese and so forth.
I found her beliefs bewildering and somewhat disconcerting for these “truths” do not truly represent reality and it was coming from the young, college-educated generation. It made me wonder what truly most Chinese really believe happened and what they truly think about the Communist Regime. Perhaps we will never know the truth.
