the road abroad.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

BANFF is for BAMFs!

BANFF, ALBERTA and JASPER, ALBERTA

I traded in my cowboy boots for runners (that’s Canadian for ‘sneakers’) and decided to take Sarah Butts/Booth’s bicycle down from the basement rafters. I followed the nice trails around their community to the interstate and then down along the pristine blue/green Bow River. It was one of few summer days in Calgary and I took full advantage by riding along the river until I reached the city center about 8 miles away. They talk in kilometers here but I will keep it American for you all. The parks were beautiful and surprisingly desolate except for the few lucky groups that were blowing up their inner tubes to float down the river on their day off. Does it get any better than river floating??

                I was riding along for about 4 miles when an old timer came up beside me and asked if my helmet was for biking or climbing. I had borrowed it from a friend so I didn’t know the answer. But the fact that he was questioning it tells me that I must have looked ridiculous. He was a retired teacher who now enjoyed singing to kids…and apparently serving as a self-proclaimed tour guide for the biking community. He was out to ride over 100kms that day and didn’t mind telling me about all the neat areas we passed throughout the outskirts of the city center. He took me to Prince’s Island Park and we listened to his friend play some guitar in the warm sun. They both gave me tips on some new music to download as well as where to visit during my next few stops- Banff, Jasper, and Vancouver.
                Sarah, Brent, Kurt and Cyndi took me out to a Mexican restaurant that night where I had a Mexican Bulldog, aka Beergarita, aka Margarita mixed with Corona. We shared some good stories amongst each other and I felt so lucky to have these 4 in my life. I had forgotten just how much they had seen me grow up. I've known them since I was 17- Sarah taught me how to drive a standard (and may still suffer from neck pain), Brent waited for me to come in from NYC via Fung Wah so we could drive up to Maine on weekends, and I’m pretty sure Kurt has picked and eaten my boogers on a couple occasions. Yeah, I’m pretty sure of that one. At dinner, Kurt asked me when I became so adventurous since, let’s face it, the Sanders clan is more on the conservative side of things. He remembers when fluff had a significant presence within my food pyramid and wanted to know when I deviated from my well-worn paths. It's funny when a basic question really gets you thinking...it must have been when I broke up with my boyfriend before my senior year of college. I felt much lighter in life and was suddenly able to explore unknown paths…one of which brought me to NYC. And then that evil empire basically served as sensory overload for the past 6 years. Ain't no stoppin' me now.
                The next day, Cyndi lent me her car and I headed an hour north to Banff National Park! I was heading toward Johnston Canyon when I spotted 2 enormous elk and my first black bear! The cute little cub caused a traffic jam as he meandered along the side of the road for his morning snack. I had a nice 3 hour hike to the Inkpots of Johnston Canyon where I put my hand into the coldest water I’ve ever felt in my life. At a chilling 32 degrees, the blue/green water was lined at the bottom with white bubbling quicksand. I grabbed a rock for my mom before heading to Banff RV park to meet up with Heinz Huester and his wife Teresa.
                Meeting Heniz and Teresa was freestyle tramping at its best. Upon receiving my mass email with all of my destinations, my dad’s cousin, Keith emailed me in efforts of hooking me up with his friends Heinz and Teresa who would be in the Calgary area around the same time. Heinz ignored the Canadian roaming charges and gave me a call to coordinate. Soon enough we were solving most of the world’s problems (pretty easy stuff overall) and enjoying some lime margaritas with the salmon that Heinz had caught a couple days earlier.
                At about 9:00pm I made a mad dash for Jasper National Park, which was about 3 hours away. I followed the sunset almost the entire way so I was still able to see the Canadian Rockies until about 11:30pm! I passed by Bow Lake and tears came to my eyes- I’d never seen such a beautiful lake in all of my life. The sunset had given the blue/green water a unique teal tint that popped against the mountain silhouettes. I had been the only person on the road for hours and was so happy to absorb that scenery in solitude.
                Besides one large black bear that sauntered across the highway, I was alone for the rest of the trip. No streetlights or headlights until I got to the hostel in Jasper that housed 18 people/room. Gross. I was low on every battery I possessed so I quickly charged up overnight in order to hike the Opal Hills around Maligne Lake the following day. On my way into town, I picked up two British girls who were walking from my hostel and had no idea just how long the walk would have taken them. We had breakfast and then I headed to Maligne Lake to hike the 5 miles up and around the Opal Hills. The trailhead had some pretty alarming warnings of Grizzly Bears in the area. My mind really took over from there and I imagined every possible way that I could be mauled by a bear. There was absolutely no one on the trail with me so there would be no chance of survival. Besides those masochistic mind games, it was a great hike! I had seen some tourists with "bear bells" attached to their shoes but thought I would rather get eaten by a bear than listen to those jingling bells throughout my hike.
                I made it back to Lake Louise for sunset and was again just floored by the beauty.   Only one hour away from Alberta’s largest city, the Canadian Rockies might as well have been Switzerland! I could only imagine how cool this town must be in the winter time when icicles hung from the colorful awnings and the smell of a wood stove filled the mountain air. Environmentalists know a good thing when they see one and have attempted to limit development (and therefore population) in the area over the past 10 years. If one wanted to live amongst the 8000 residents of Banff then one better bring some serious dough. Based on real estate prices, it was clear that Banff was definitely for BAMFS (Bad Ass Mo Fo's)! I’ll definitely make it back there for a winter visit even if I am penniless.

Biking along the Bow River in Calgary

BAMF!

Banff National Park

Quicksand in Inkpots in Banff

Banff Springs Hotel

Bearly scared of this cub

Opal Hills Trail

Snow atop Opal Trail

Medicine Lake

Jasper National Park!

Bow Lake in the rain

Lake Louise

Smooches in Jasper

Maligne Lake

"Imagine you're a deer..." - My Cousin Vinny

Saturday, July 23, 2011

It's Boots, It's Chaps, It's Cowboy Hats....IT'S STAMPEDE!!

CALGARY, AB CANADA

Greatest Outdoor Show in the World

Bareback riding!

Me with Brent Booth and Brent Williams- named the two hottest cowboys at Stampede

Cowboys- Kurt Goodjohn, Brent Booth and Brent Williams

Cowgirls- Sarah Booth, ?, Cyndi Goodjohn, ?

Wildhorse Beer tent

                Howdy, folks! Well I can’t think of a better place to kick start my next adventure than amongst the stirring hay and dirt of the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth- Calgary Stampede! This country-themed Mardi Gras was full of merriment and captured the spirit of the city. My brother Glenn’s friend (and my top pick if I were to have a third brother), Brent Booth, picked me up at the airport and made me feel quite at home in the NW quadrant of the city in his community of Tuscany. Brent and his wife Sarah lived with us in Saugus for a bit so it was such a treat to finally see their home out in the wild west!
                Although not the gambling type, I visited the casinos on an Indian Reservation that evening and got my first taste of Calgary. Luck was definitely on my side and it stayed there for the remainder of my trip in Alberta. The following morning, Brent was more than savvy when sneaking us into the Stampede grounds and Rodeo. It’s amazing how well ink will transfer from wrist to wrist. The grounds were bustling in the rare warm sun on day 7 of the 10 day celebration. Men, women, and children all tipped their hats to the rodeo cowboys and shouted out 'Yahoo' in praise of their gritty performances. There were carnival rides, ample food stands and expansive (and expensive) beer tents to mark the annual event that brought in over 350,000 visitors. We watched the bareback riding as well as the steer wrestling before the boys were itching to get their drink on in the tents before they filled up. The beer tent was rocking thanks to an impressive band playing country cover songs, just perfect for the cow boys and girls to line dance. In the few hours that followed, I met every coworker Brent has ever worked with and soon realized that there isn’t a whole a lot of work done during Stampede. Like any appealing event, corporations buy out blocks of seats for entertainment and pretend to talk shop while experiencing cool shows. Thank you, corporations. I really enjoyed the rodeo.
                On the way toward our final tent destination, Brent and my brother’s other friend named Brent, were corralled by a number of cougars. Apparently these ladies had been flirting their way through the day and snapping pictures with cute cowboys. I felt so lucky to be accompanied by what they called the two hottest cowboys of Stampede. I had to agree with these smart women. YAHOO!
                Gleaming with pride, we all made our way into the tent called Cowboys, which was known for its waitresses that possessed Barbie-like measurements. These girls undoubtedly used their tips for two things and I won’t say what they were.   The night filled up with lots of drinking, dancing, standing, sitting, people-watching, potty runs, and fake-boob spotting. Whoops, I said it after all. My favorite part of the night came around 12:00am when the dj stopped all music and encouraged the crowd to sing the Canadian National Anthem. Now it may have just been the Bud Light fueling their vocal pipes but I was really moved by their spirit. It’s always cool to be an innocent foreign bystander while a country comes together to show their pride.
                Brent’s mother hosted a delicious brunch the next morning to nurse all hangovers and I heard the term ‘I’m stampeded out’ by many people in the crowd. It looked like I would have to press on without the Booths and Goodjohns. I met up with the other Brent and many of his hockey friends for some VIP treatment at the Wildhorse beer tent.   They had all golfed 18 holes that day in honor of the shiny cup but no one seemed to miss a beat on the dance floor. The usual hockey bantering ensued throughout the night and I concluded the night by buttering up the security guard so I could get up on stage to make a special song request to the dj.
                The taxi driver, Abdul, saved my aching tootsies from my cowboy boots and insisted on calling me his ‘American friend’. He had lived in Pakistan, NYC and here but loved America most. Abdul was a very, very nice man and he insisted that he could find me a job in Calgary. Brent and I had created a fictitious story that I slightly regretted since Abdul turned out to be so helpful. As far as cabbies go, he was top notch.

The last day was filled with lactic acid instead of latigo. The Booths and I headed an hour away to the mountains where we did a modest but rewarding hike to the Grassi Lakes. It was their first hike in about 6 years! I couldn’t believe they hadn’t visited their own backyard in so long. It certainly didn’t show though- they were trekking along with no complaints. The surrounding mountains of Canmore National Park were beautifully carved out by the dazzling Bow River. Even though there is nothing at home that comes close to resembling the pristine glacial water out here, I was reminded that we all live somewhere with a sweet view nearby. Skip the asinine commitment you have this weekend and find that sweet view in your surrounding neighborhood! I know it’s there.

Sarah and Brent Booth in Cranmore NP

Grassi Lake in Canmore NP

Kerri and Brent Booth conquering mountains

Thursday, June 16, 2011

I hate goodbyes. Ta Australia.

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

I arrived in Sydney 13 hours later and felt like I was in NYC. Everyone looked sharp and I could hear the familiar clicking and clacking sound of heels hitting concrete. It was quite different from flip flops hitting sand. I checked into my FANCY YHA hostel and walked around the oldest part of Sydney called The Rocks. I walked across the Sydney Harbor Bridge where I got a great view of the city and the Opera House. The CBD (Central Business District) was bustling and it only reminded me of how remote my other destinations were on this trip. I was a million miles away from the sound of silence in Milford Sounds, NZ.

Before I left home, my former teacher and friend, Mike Bontempo and his wife, Karen, met me for brunch. Karen gave me a lady bug pin for good luck (and it sure worked!). Mr. Bontempo (it’s too weird to call him Mike) gave me a $50 bill and told me when I get some place really nice, order a drink on him, and say, “How the fck did I get here?!?” That night I fulfilled his request at a restaurant called Peter Doyle overlooking Sydney Harbor during their annual light festival. On my left side, I could watch the hourly fire show that was synchronized to music. On my right side, I could see the altering lighting schemes performed on the exterior of the Sydney Opera House and its surroundings. This was the perfect place to order a “Red Corvette” cocktail and reflect on my wonderful trip and beautiful life. Thanks, Mr. Bontempo.

Sydney Opera House

Night out at Peter Doyle

Sydney Light Show

The next morning I took my time getting to Manly Beach where I picked up some souvenirs for my nieces and nephews. I had a dream about them the night before and really missed them. I ended up running into Marc (German) from the Dolphins Hostel in Noosa so I spent the afternoon with him on Manly Beach watching the surfers and taking my best shot at the amateur sport of tight-rope walking. I headed to Newtown for dinner and was blown away by all the restaurant options. I settled into Newtown Thai and had a delicious plate of Pad Thai. I brought a newspaper with me since it’s boring to eat alone. I noticed that the news articles were pretty upbeat for a city paper- no murders to discuss. I also noticed that they referred to the US a lot! Besides all of the Hollywood gossip, all of their articles quoted studies that had been performed in the US. I took my time with the paper and left the restaurant without paying! I had forgotten that the servers don’t bring the check to the customer in OZ. The customer must come claim the check from the main booth. The server had to run me down in the street- Whoops. I almost chewed and screwed in Newtown.

On the way back home, I was bored and ducked into the YHA (that I was no longer staying at) to watch the feature movie. They had a brilliant movie theatre and no one seemed to notice that I didn’t belong when I was cozying up to an oversized beanbag chair. I watched “Into the Wild” and felt a deeper connection to it this time around since I was on my own adventure. One quote I enjoyed was when he said that tramping was too easy with all the money he got paid. He had more fun when he was penniless. I agreed with him. It’s very easy to travel when you have the means and everything is planned out for you. Everything is safe. The most fun I’ve had on this trip is when I took a chance on something or someone and had no idea how it would play out. There is a certain thrill about the unknown.

Manly Beach

Tight-rope walking on Manly Beach

I headed out to Bondi Beach the day for the eastern suburb coastal walk. It was a very windy day and the air was chilly. All of the beaches were beautiful even though it was too cold for me to even think about putting on my swimmers (bathing suit). I met two Boston College girls on the path and had a nice chat with them. The walk was much longer than I thought it would be. There were several beaches between Bondi and Coogee and many of them had man-made salt water swimming pools. They were so cool! They were built right on the ocean and the waves would crash over the sides every now and then.

Salt water swimming pools near Bondi Beach

I shopped a bit before heading to the Beach Road Hotel for some live music. Unfortunately the music didn’t start for 3 hours so I took an inconspicuous nap on their couches while watching the Red Sox/Yankees game. I couldn’t wait around for the local band to play though. I was so tired that I don’t even think I would have waited for Aerosmith. I got back to the hostel and organized my trip to the Blue Mountains for my final day in Australia. I was low on traveling energy and almost bailed on it. I’m so glad I didn’t.

Bondi Beach

Since I lost my cell phone when I arrived in Sydney, I was also missing an alarm clock. The friendly staff at the Easy Go Backpackers on George Street reassured me that they would wake me at 5:45am so I could catch my train. They didn’t. I woke up at 7 and got into Kaloomba around 10:30am. The Blue Mountains were gorgeous! I hiked the Prince Henry track to Echo Point and descended down the 900 steps of the Grand Staircase. I had Pinocchio legs when I finished. I walked the Federal Pass to Kuber’s steps and made my way back up to the Cliff walk before returning to Echo Point. I don’t want to climb another set of stairs for a week. Only elevators for me, thank-you-very-much.

Blue Mountains

Blue Mountains- The Three Sisters

Blue Mountains

I took advantage of the many bakeries in the town of Kaloomba before ducking into the Common Ground café. It was 5 degrees Celsius plus terrible wind chill so I needed a hot chocolate. It was a really neat café! It had a warm fire, beautiful wood finish throughout, and very cozy booths that put the finishing touches on this relaxing refuge. It turns out it was owned by the communal group called The Twelve Tribes. After speaking with a couple of the workers, I learned that everyone in the restaurant was a volunteer. No one got paid. They belonged to a messianic community, and by community they did not mean a town or locality. Nor did they mean a loose association of individuals living near one another. And they surely did not mean a religious organization centered around meeting in a building, otherwise called a Church. Community, as they used the term, meant those who love one another so greatly that they are of one heart and mind, holding all things as common property, living together, taking their meals together, devoted to one another because they’re devoted to the One who saved them from death and misery.

If you’ve been reading my blogs, this should sound familiar. I stayed with this kind of group in the Coromandel Peninsula in New Zealand. The Freedom Farmers had used a book of values but this group did not. I came back later that evening to hear more from a woman within the group and she spoke exactly like Carly from the Farm. These people can talk for hours. They use their hands to speak almost more than Italians and go around in love and happiness circles. They believe so deeply in the cause that the words just spill out of them effortlessly. They are very detached from the world. This woman had no idea what Wall Street was. She didn’t seem informed about anything more than her community’s path. These people were very interesting to me and shouldn’t be feared. They have nothing but good intentions and the world may be better if there were more of them out there. No, I am not a communist.

I froze all night and woke up every hour in fear that the alarm wouldn’t go off. I got on the train back to Sydney and was feeling very excited about going home. It was going to be a long haul- 15 hour plane ride on one of the new double decker jumbo jets! I was looking forward to spending my 5 hour lay-over in Dallas with a client/friend from Ameritrade, Bryan Bradford. And from there, about 4 hours to Boston. I was so excited to see my parents! This is the longest I have gone without them. I have to admit it’s been pretty easy with email and skype though. What a different world. I can’t imagine if we were only relying on postcards.

It’s been an amazing journey. I am so glad that I had the opportunity (and guts) to take this trip. No regrets. Interestingly enough, I just learned that I didn’t have healthcare over the past three months. I thought that I was fully insured by UBS but I had missed some paperwork and wasn’t covered. Haha. I took some pretty good chances on my life over the past couple months- hiking alone, jumping out of airplanes, swimming with sharks, peeing with Dingoes, patting Mama Kangaroos, and a bit of hitchhiking. I’m going to buy a lottery ticket when I step foot on American soil.

Thanks for following along! The road abroad has been life-changing. Now it's time to celebrate with family and friends at my brother's wedding in Lake Placid!! Congratulations to Glenn and Shanna!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Dedication to Kenneth Walker Sanders (October 8, 1920 - October 10, 2000)

LISMORE, AUSTRALIA

Throughout my trip, everyone has asked me which hot spots I plan on visiting and I have said Melbourne, Cairns, Airlie Beach, Fraser Island, Noosa, Byron, Lismore and Sydney. And I always get the same response: “Lismore?? Why do you want to go to Lismore?” Here’s the answer.

After my grandfather passed away in 2000, my Uncle Tom sought information and artifacts from my grandfather’s PT boat during World War II. He ended up tracking down a man who actually spent time on that boat with my grandfather and began email correspondences. In 2002, at the ripe age of 77, John Vaughn wrote the following note to my Uncle:

“....I heard a PT boat squadron in New Guinia needed a torpedo man and most of the 'troop' type ships were going back to the states from that area....sooooooo I just thought....I'll volunteer for PT's....Bad info....reported to Squadron 21 and go aboard PT 323....we were operating out of Finchhaven (?) New Guinia...go aboard and the first person to walk up to me and introduce himself...Hi I'm Kenny Sanders....well needless to say your dad was just that kind of fellow that became 'your best friend'....and now of course PT Squadron 21 wasn't naturally going back to the states....They were getting a R & R in Brisbane..."You got be kidding"..I just left there....sooooo Kenny and I fly to Brisbane on a DC3...since I knew the city from when we had a R &R aboard the 'Gato'...we would go to the town of Collangatto (?) about 75-100 miles south of Brisbane...right on the beach....weeelll after a few days...your dad and I hear about a town that NO US servicemen can visit...called Lismore....We had to take a bus, then a cab to get to the rown...there are NO American servicemen in town...look out...It was just by chance...your dad was an unbelievable gambler...at cards and dice (He said once to me...Never get in a game against me)...Five other sailors found this town...now there's seven of us...Your dad just by chance got into a card game with the owner of this hotel-pub we were staying at...It took approx 18 hours and with the backing of the other sailors...we owned all the beer, liquor, food, cigs and 'our' rooms!!!!! (a couple years after the war was over, Readers Digest had a long story about 7 sailors that owned a hotel in Australia!!!!!)....well, we gave it back to the 'owner' just before we left Lismore...we gave a party for the town...had a parade....horses, buggy and all the trimmings..Left town with a 'cloud' of glory...back to New Guinia. “

And that’s why I went to Lismore. I was able to correspond with John before I left for my trip but he couldn’t offer any other information. I had no pub name, no owner name, no Reader’s Digest article to reference. When I asked my great Uncle Willard if he thought this story was true, he said that my grandfather never really talked about the war. None of them did. So he hadn’t mentioned anything about it but it definitely sounded like something my grandfather would do!

I got a ride to Lismore from Kevin (the Canadian I was staying with), found the oldest bar in town, and enjoyed a nice pint in my grandfather’s honor. He was a very special man that I still have so much love and respect for. He is responsible for so much good in my life (and so many others’ lives). I’m so grateful that I was able to incorporate him into this trip and it’s amazing to think that I was walking the same roads, sailing the same seas and maybe even drinking the same beer that he drank….so far from home. I also bought a pack of orange gum in Lismore since it was my grandfather’s favorite. As a child, he would have us sit on his knee and would say ‘Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Where does the birdie lite?’ And, like all grandfathers that possess magical powers, he could make the orange piece of Trident gum appear out of thin air.

Thank you to Kevin for the ride. Thank you to John Vaughn for allowing the fantastic story to live on. Thank you to Grandpa for being an everlasting inspiration.

My grandfather aboard PT 323 (pictured on right)

Lismore 2011

So it turns out Canadians aren't so bad...

SURFER'S PARADISE and BYRON BAY, AUSTRALIA

Surfer's Paradise

An afternoon bus brought Lena and me through Brisbane and then to Surfer’s Paradise. I had heard that this town was total cheeseball and it was. In attempts to imitate Miami, the town had a flashy nightlife and high rises built on the shoreline. I think it more resembled the Jersey Shore. Lena and I took a walk down the beach and I realized where the Gold Coast gets its name. The water resembled champagne as it swept across the shoreline and left a gold sparkle as it receded back to the ocean. All beaches are made up of the same things so it shouldn’t have been so shocking…but somehow it was different here. It was stunning. Later we went to Burleigh Heads via bus and walked the nature path that overlooked the surfers. I only had one day to explore Surfer’s Paradise and I was satisfied overall.

I decided to part ways with Lena and head for Byron Bay. I had heard amazing things about this beachtown and was ready to explore it. I hired (rented) a bike from my hostel and pedaled up to the gorgeous lighthouse on the hill. There were spectacular lookouts over the town and ocean so I decided to hike them all. I spotted some dolphins in the water, which was really cool. It’s so much better when you can naturally spot wildlife and not go on a tour where the areas are baited and you're expecting to see them.

I went to the Beachie Hotel to watch the hockey game the next morning and was severely outnumbered. The Canadians were everywhere! The place erupted when the Cannucks scored with 18 seconds left. I wanted to crawl under the table. After the game ended, I started chatting with some of them and made friends! Paige (Vancouver), Mike (Vancouver), Kevin (Toronto and a Bruins fan), Alex (Montreal) and Blair (Vancouver) were all living in Byron Bay and had jobs in cafes and kitchens. Paige was incredibly nice and invited me to their place that night for some drinks.

We went to the Beachie hotel and then to some other surfer bar called Woody's that only played reggae. It's so awful to watch white people dance to reggae. We went back to the apartment for some late night homemade sushi and a jam session featuring Alex and Kevin. I went back to my hostel and realized I should take them up on their offer to stay with them for the rest of my time in Byron.

So I moved my stuff into their sunroom the next morning and Paige and I hit the beach for some surfing! Paige gave me a great surf lesson in the morning and then we headed to Blair and his wife Mari’s place for some afternoon sunbathing. Life in Byron is so much fun when you have friends.

When the sun went down and all the boys got back from surfing, the temperature really cooled off. Their English roommate Clint was in rotation for making dinner for the group that night and I was so excited to be a part of the fun. I think they inadvertently competed with each other on recipes and dishes since they were all chefs. Really good chefs too! I learned so much about cooking in just a few days with them.

I must go out of my way to tell you that all of them were funny. And it felt SO good to be around funny people again! My friend Petey Sansone may be the funniest person I have ever met but Paige’s boyfriend, Mike, was the funniest person I met in Australia. I can only imagine how excited he’ll be that I made this declaration on my blog. Now the whole world knows that there is at least one Canadian that is funny.

These Canadians were solely responsible for my good time in Byron! I had started to feel homesick and wasn’t enjoying myself for a couple days…and then they came along and completely revived me. We played a couple great rounds of King’s Cup, Asshole (so different with bogus Canadian rules) and Smoke or Fire. Other highlights of the trip include the Byron markets where I ate a kangaroo burger! Yup, me. A whole kangaroo burger. It was gamey but I still ate the whole thing. Oh and another highlight would be latenight mudcake from Woolworth’s! Canadians are full of good $5 ideas! :)