Lima

Lima is the capital city of Peru and home to 11 million people. You wouldn’t know it from all of the beautiful flowers and green parks, but Lima is a desert, getting only nine millimeters of rain a year. (That’s about the width of your index finger!)

Our time in Lima is short, so we made the most of our day and let our feet show us around. Where was our first destination? Well, if you know either of us well, you’d easily be able to guess. Kennedy Park is a lovely park in central Miraflores (one of the distracts of Lima). Flowers are in full bloom despite it being autumn. But it wasn’t the blossoms that brought us here. It was the cats. No one seems to know why, but the park has become a haven for homeless cats. They are fed, healthy and cared for in their little kingdom, and these cat lovers loved spotting them amongst the flowers.

Our wandering took us to the Pacific Ocean and the walkway at the top of the cliff that overlooks the high waves below. The city has done a great job of embracing the beauty of the view with a mall, parks and sidewalks along the way, including the Park of Love, which supposedly started after a local writer mentioned how many statues there were for war, while there are none for love.

A local artist made this statue, “The Kiss.” It is designed after himself and his true love (his fourth wife).

We ate lunch at a fishmonger, ordering the dish we’ve heard as the must while we are here, ceviche, and well, it did not disappoint.

In the afternoon, we took a tour around several districts including Miraflores, San Isidro, and Barranco. As usual, I enjoyed learning the history and interesting facts along the way, but my favorite thing about talking to strangers is hearing the ins and outs of living in a different place. Lucas told us about the upcoming mayoral elections. He said voting here is mandatory, and you are fined if you do not participate. He also said that there are eighteen different political parties, but there is so much corruption, that few people truly trust the government. 

As teachers, we asked about the schools. Most elementary kids go to school in the morning, and then the school transforms to a secondary school in the afternoons. There are public schools and private ones at a variety of costs. The teacher’s union of public schools is strong, and so public schools are often closed for protests. School runs from March to December. This March was the first time they opened in person schools since the start of the pandemic.

Lucas also told us a lot about the ocean, as it is a central provider for livelihood and food in the area. While the summers are hot here, the water never warms because a strong current moves along the continent and helps to irrigate the ocean. The cold temperatures mean there is more oxygen in the water which means there is more growing in the water which feeds the small fish, which in turn feeds the big fish.

Our tour took us by a huge pyramid around two thousand years old, that for years was just believed to be a hill in the city. They are excavating it and are amazed at the construction they are finding which has withstood centuries of earthquakes.

San Isidro is a lovely part of town with a huge park full of olive trees. In 1625, two hundred olive trees were shipped from Europe, but only three survived. From those three, over sixteen hundred olive trees now flourish in this area. They are harvested in May and June. Last year’s harvest produced over five tons of olives! After being processed, local residents receive small bottles of olive oil and pickled olives from the collection.

Our last stop was the artsy district of Barranco. It felt more Bohemian, full of romance, talent and appreciation of art. Murals filled open walls and the historic church, which failed two rebuildings, is now overrun with vultures. (I realize this is more spooky than romantic, but somehow it, too, was fitting.)

Look for the lines of vultures across the top!




She is made of cardboard!

Delicious food, stunning views of the Pacific Ocean, cats and tours of a new city? Who could ask for a better first day?

Travels

I’ve heard nightmares about travel lately, whether on the news or through friends who are getting back out there and traveling again. As most things in the world, air travel has changed since COVID and hasn’t fully recovered. I hadn’t been on a plane since the fall of 2019. While I wasn’t nervous about the flight itself, I was certainly anxious about all the flights working out.

The Birmingham airport is a dream. It’s so small, and yet typically operates so smoothly. There were practically no lines anywhere (except Chik-Fil-A which has a line no matter what time of day). But my flight was delayed by 50 minutes. This meant that I would be landing in Dallas about the time that our flight to Lima (Jess and I met in Dallas) was supposed to start boarding.

My nerves grew as the time ticked closer to our departure time and yet no plane was at our gate. At fourteen minutes to our new departure time, a plane finally arrived. I was no where near the only passenger anxious about making a connecting flight. Our pilot took off about 20 minutes after our delayed scheduled time, but it was smooth sailing and we made it to Dallas a little faster than scheduled. But of course, a gate was not yet ready for us, so I was eagerly texting with Jess going through our plan of how she was to delay the plane. Should she lay down in hysterics at the gate? Make an anonymous call that there was something wrong with the plane?

Finally, our plane arrived at a gate, and the handy American Airlines app gave me walking directions to get to the next gate. With a combination of speed walking and running, I was able to reunite with Jess just minutes before the plane started boarding. At this point, we were both relieved and decided that was going to be as stressful as our travel would get on this trip (stay tuned with your fingers crossed).

We arrived at the Lima airport at 12:30am and were greeted by kind, helpful airport staff and immigration officers. Outside, our scheduled taxi was no where to be found, but we found a friendly driver who quoted us a similar price and so we got into his car and were quickly introduced to the driving customs of a new country. (Note to self: ask what currency the quote is as we ended up paying an enormous amount, but we were delivered safely, nonetheless).

We were able to get a few hours of good sleep and are now waking up to the morning sounds of a brand new city. 

I read an article in the New York Times on Sunday that  reminded of one of the reasons we travel. It was about talking to strangers.  “Far from random human inconveniences, strangers are actually one of the richest and most important resources we have. They connect us to the community, teach us empathy, build civility and are full of surprise and potentially wonder.” I must admit that every one of my interactions yesterday, even the stressful ones were positive. From the friendly x-ray machine operator at TSA; to the plane full of people that stayed seated and let those of us with connecting flights run off; to the friendly couple I ran with who bragged about seeing their grandson playing in the new USFL league in Birmingham; to the friendly taxi driver (who yes, cheated us foreigners a bit), and the eager bell hop who welcomed us to a new city. I can’t wait to get out and meet more strangers!

Getting Out

Like the rest of the world, I've felt a bit confined over the past two years.  Yes, I was fortunate to get out and explore some of my own country that I had not yet seen, but I have been itching for a reason to use my passport.  I am not oblivious to the fact that COVID still exists, but as I'm vaccinated, and boosted, I feel it is now something I must just come to terms with as a part of life.  And so, I am eager to get out and explore the world once again.

So, where to?  My travel partner, Jessica (whom I'm beyond grateful for), and I discussed some possibilities in the late fall as we began to think about the summer.  We could throw a dart at the globe and be excited about that destination, so, we decided to choose two very different places in the world, research them, and then, come spring, look at the state of the world and choose which place would be best.  We chose to research Scandinavia and South America (a broad spectrum, I realize).  

I purchased two travel books and began planning.  Rick Steves is an idol of mine.  If you've not yet had the pleasure of reading a Rick Steves travel book from cover to cover, you are missing out.  His writing is full of whit, history, humor and delectable details.  Since he only writes about Europe, naturally, I started with his book.  I feel in love with tiny islands in Denmark where bikes are the only transportation.  There were cliffs that needed climbing in Norway, a squatterville in Copenhagen, fjords to cruise down, and lovely fishing villages in Sweden.  I was set, and my mind was made up that this was to be our next adventure.

Then, I picked up the book on South America.  The book, although it is full of information, is no where near as lyrical nor enjoyable to read as Rick Steves, but the wonder of the places quickly overwhelmed me.  Although I have a great desire to get to Chile and Argentina, our summer is a less than ideal time to visit.  Brazil was high on our list, but the vast expanse of the country meant having to narrow down exactly what we wanted to see.  Plus, travel from place to place, as we learned was not easy.  So, we began putting more and more research into Peru and Bolivia.  I read about the Salt Flats where flamingos prance about, Lake Titicaca where the Incan believe the sun was born, the jungles of southern Peru where jaguars live and colorful birds fill the trees, and climbing the Incan Trail to Machu Picchu.

So, I called Jess and told her I was leaning toward South America.  She knew that was coming, she had heard it in my voice as I had told her about new things I had learned.  I told her that I had no idea where life would take us in the next few years.  It seemed equally likely that either of us could be raising a young one or dealing with a broken hip, so we might as well take the more adventurous trip while we could.  Thankfully, Jess is always up for an adventure!

So, next Monday, we leave for Peru and Bolivia, the countries that will hopefully become #42 and #43 on my quest to 50 countries by the time I'm 50.  This also is a whole new continent for us both, and we couldn't be more thrilled to experience something so new and different (and add some more color to our scratch off maps).

As with anything new and different, there is always a sense of excitement mixed with anxious uncertainty.  But, having pushed the limits of my comfort levels before, I know that these often turn into the most rewarding experiences.  If nothing else, they turn into fantastic stories.

Thank you for reading along.  I hope I can share some of these great stories with you in the coming weeks.  And also, if you need any travel tips for Scandinavia, I've got a great list for you! :)

Packing

I am NOT a light packer. For evidence, check last summer’s blog where I filled a minivan to road trip around the country. So this summer’s goal to squeeze everything into a backpack was a daunting task.

Why not just pack in a rolling bag? Well, there’s the trek through the jungle, the multi-day tour across the salt flats in an SUV, and the Island of the Sun where, if we are lucky, a donkey may help us carry our belongings up the mountain to our hotel.

The challenge is compounded by weather. It is winter there, so clothes I’ll wear are thicker. Most days look like they’ll be in the high 50s and low 60s with night time temperatures in the high 30s. There are our days in the jungle where it will feel closer to the Alabama summers I’m accustomed to and nights on the salt flats that could dip below 0.

It is amazing how packing concerns have changed as I have aged. Sure, clothes have always been essential. As a child, Polly Pockets took up the rest of the room. CDs took up most of my extra space as a teenager. In my 20s, I feel it was things to entertain me like games and detailed coloring books. Now, my main concern beyond clothes is medications and chargers. I know, this not only shows my age but also how much fun I am!

There was lots of organizing, carefully planned layers, trips around town looking for the tiniest serving of the item I needed and lots of squishing, but it worked. Now, should I find lots of treasures along the way, I’m not opposed to shipping a box home, and I go knowing that this is a very real possibility.

So, with all of that being said, when all of my photos have me in the same outfit, don’t judge me. And be thankful you can’t smell photos!

Tale of Two Sand Dunes

We were very fortunate with our weather on Mackinac Island for the rain began to move in just as we left and seemed to stay for a while, even creating some major flooding in southern Michigan.  After leaving Mackinac, we had about 30 hours before we would picking up one of our friends in Chicago, so, we headed south down "the mitten" with plans of seeing some special spots along the way.

Several people along our journey had told us about how much they loved Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.  As it was sort of on our route, we decided to stop and see whatever we could see during some breaks in the clouds.  It was easy to see why people from the area loved this unique landscape.  There were great campgrounds that would provide easy access to beaches, bicycle paths, hikes through woods or over sand dunes, and dramatic scenery to take in.  

As this was only a quick stop for us, we didn't take in any of the trails, but we were able to drive the scenic road and stop at multiple pull-offs.  The first couple were high up and provided views of lakes, harbors and densely-green hills.  One stop showed the sand dunes, that, I must admit were a bit underwhelming.  They appeared much like the edge of a desert area might with small hills of sand covered in scattered grasses and sparse trees. 

But then, our next pull-off was a weak-in-the-knees sort of overwhelming spot.  I do not have a fear of heights, but what I've noticed is that I seem to have a fear of steepness.  Odd, I realize, but we don't choose our fears, do we?  The sand dunes at this spot plunged over four hundred feet at a near ninety-degree angle down to Lake Michigan.  A sign at the entrance stated that a rescue from the bottom cost $3,000.  Not that I needed a deterrent to keep me at the top, but that helped.  Some people took it as a challenge though, and we saw them as mere dots down in the water or struggling slowly to climb back up the ladder of sand.

Those "dots" near the bottom of the dune are people!

We drove south along the coast of Lake Michigan, only sometimes spotting the shore, but frequently spotting towns that took advantage of having a beach.

Spending the night in Northern Indiana ensured a true stop in the state as did a visit to the Indiana Dunes National Park the next morning.  Rain continued to dampen our time in the area, but thankfully, it stopped just long enough for us to enjoy a short walk along the beach.  We did not see the tall sand dunes in the park, nor did we get to enjoy the interesting marsh walk possibilities, but we did truly enjoy a stroll along the sandy beach.  While much of the beach was sandy, the water line was covered in rocks of every color made smooth by their time in the water.  One could spend hours searching through the rocks and noting their unique differences.

Before heading on to Chicago, we made one quick stop in Gary, Indiana where we saw the childhood home of the Jackson 5.  You cannot go inside it, but the tiny house is well-maintained and cared for.  In the middle of the street in front of the home, a performer, with multiple outfit changes enjoyed showing off some of his own Michael Jackson moves.  Based on what a neighbor said, no matter what time of day you stop by, you'll always be treated to someone putting on a show!

Somewhere in Time

Stepping onto Mackinac (pronounced MackinAW) Island is like stepping back in time.  No wonder the 1980 time traveling love story, Somewhere in Time was shot on this little island.  A short, 20-minute ferry ride from mainland Michigan takes you to an island with an 8-mile circumference where life is slower-paced and time seems to have stopped many years ago.  No cars are allowed on Mackinac and the buildings on main street are somewhere between the saloon days and classy early-twentieth century.  They are colorful, tightly-packed and intricately decorated.  Horse-drawn carriages make all the deliveries necessary whether trash pick up, Amazon deliveries or a taxi-ride from the tiny airport.  Bicycles are everywhere, and watching hotel-workers carry large amounts of luggage on their handlebars was incredibly impressive.

Mackinac was reminiscent of Martha's Vineyard, where established wealth thrives and tourists jump at the opportunity to enjoy it for just a few moments.  It is certainly a bit of a tourist trap, and things are a bit overpriced, but it is also adorable and endearing.  Almost everyone we met there had been coming to the island since they were a kid, the summer getaway for all Michiganers.  One of the Yoopers we had met told us of his time in the Boy Scouts when he got to spend a week on the island raising and lowering flags and giving short tours.

Main Street, about five blocks long was seemingly where 70% of those on the island were at any given time.  Go about two blocks in any direction from main street, and you'd find another 20%.  The street teemed with people, especially during the heart of the day after day-trippers arrived and before they returned to their mainland beds.  The store fronts could be split into four categories: restaurants, souvenir shops, fudge shops and everything else.  Another Yooper had told us that Mackinac had a particular scent.  When we stepped off the boat, it hit us immediately: a combination of horse and fudge.  While it may sound unpleasant, it became part of the endearing charm of the island.

I am unclear as to why, but Mackinac is known for their fudge.  I believe there were only about eight fudge companies (remember, I said it was about five blocks long), but some of those shops had two or three store fronts on the same street!  Walking by some shops gave me a sugar high just from the wafts that came out the front door.  The art of fudge making was on full display with large marble slabs in the store windows where talented artisans mixed and shaped fudge.  It is said that if you got just one sample from each store, you'd get two pounds of fudge.  I'm not sure we made it quite that far, but I made sure I was never in want of something sweet.  Truly a treat!

We stayed in the Murray Hotel, a historic hotel dating back to the late 1800s.  As an old hotel, the rooms were near closet size, but the decor was truly perfect for the setting and just as gaudy and tacky as one would hope.  The wallpaper was covered in brightly colored birds and framed on the wall were artificial flowers.  In order to open the door to the hallway, we had to closer the cabinet where the TV slid in and out of (the TV had an entire channel dedicated to Somewhere in Time), and for the first time in our travels, we carried around a real key.  A perfect place for the setting of this historic little island.

Making the 8-mile loop around the island was high on our list, but bikes were not cheap to rent, and Jessica is very patient with my lack of comfortableness on a bike.  So, our first trip around was on foot, and we were one of the very few doing that!  The road/sidewalk goes all the way around the outside of the island.  It is flat, and often just inches from the crystal-blue-clear waters of Lake Huron.  Much of the island is a state park, and so, while main street is crowded, much of the island is forested land with little signs of humans.  Part of the road was closed off for construction, but thankfully, a cut-through path allowed us to continue and see almost all of the circumference.  Later in the afternoon, when the crowds had died down a little bit, and I was sure of our flat path, we did rent bicycles and do the loop once more because, well, that seemed like what you were supposed to do.  It was lovely - simple joys on an island that allows you to slow down and enjoy them.

I went for a walk one morning and ventured a bit more inland rather than just the coastal path.  It is nice walking on paths that are close to road width without any fear of a car running you over.  (Of course, a horse and carriage would be a horrible ending...).  There were clutters of small homes and apartments where people who work on the island live, but the big glorious homes seemed harder to find (perhaps it is like this was by design...).  Some people do live on the island year-round.  The K-12 school there usually houses about 90 students, but many of the residents of the island are there from May - September, working hard to satisfy tourists.

The Grand Hotel is stunning and of an era where big, fancy hotels were retreats of the elites.  It boosts having one of the longest porches in America, but the joys of sitting in one of the rocking chairs costs you a fee unless you are a guest of the hotel.  Outside the hotel, a sign describes the attire one needs to enter the hotel.

It is this old-world charm, this "of a different era", this "of simpler times" that makes Mackinac a true gem.  It is all of this that makes it a repeat destination for locals summer after summer, to taste the fudge, glide on a bicycle and step back a bit to somewhere else in time.

Yooper

Researching this part of our great country, visiting Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, or the UP, was a definite. Many others wanted to escape the cities this year, so our camp sites were a bit limited, but I’m so thankful we made the plans we did.

The Upper Peninsula borders several of the Great Lakes, but we spent our time on the northern shore on Lake Superior, which for all purposes looks like an ocean minus the salt.

Our first camp site was in a large state park, the Porcupine Mountains. While where our tent was located was in close proximity to others, the camp grounds themselves had rocky shores where we spent many hours on the warm rocks, dipping our toes in chilly water, reading while listening to the waves gently crash on the burgundy rocks.

The park was about as different from our first camping experience on this trip as it could be. It was a dense forest with thick green undergrowth and ferns galore. While in North Dakota we saw abundant wildlife, here we only saw chipmunks and birds, and one terribly curious and adorable creature, who after extensive internet searching, I believe is a marten.

Our first day, we hiked along a ridge overlooking the Lake of the Clouds, a narrow lake about a mile long, but only 15 feet deep. The hike provided sweeping views of the distant landscape, full of green until it met the blue up above. I can only imagine how these thick maple and oak forests look in autumn. The weather could not have been more glorious. While most of our walk was under the shade of large oaks, moments on the edge of the ridge opened up and greeted us with delightful breezes. The rock overlooks provided a perfect place for a picnic lunch and enjoyable pauses along our trek.

The next day, we hiked the Summit Peak Loop.  After the young ranger mentioned the name of the hike, I joked with her about what an intense climb it must be.  Even though the hike includes the highest peak in the park, the parking lot for the hike is about at the level of the highest peak.  The forest was beautiful: dense, lush ferns, and small swampy areas with cattails and irises.  Unfortunately, we didn't stop to take a lot of time to look at the forest because those lovely swampy areas provided the perfect breeding ground for one of my least favorite blood-sucking creatures.  So, it was a fast-paced hike with lots of slapping, but lovely views of the UP anyway.

We took another short hike, mosquito-free, by a narrow wandering river.  Along the way were short informational signs that talked about the area's history in mining, although little evidence of those mines from the mid-1800s still exist.

Our evenings were spent looking out over Lake Superior, playing cards, struggling to start a fire with few trees around to drop little limbs, and listening to conversations of those around us.  One thing I had not anticipated was the difference in accents and words used in this part of the country.  I love hearing the soft, kind words and the simple add-ons of phrases, and the drawn-out Os.  One local told me it probably wasn't too different from my own southern heritage.  I told him I felt the sentiment and mannerisms were very similar, but the language was vastly different.

Our next camp site was in a big campground and our tent site was on the beach, overlooking Lake Superior.  We dreamed of watching the sunset and sunrise over the water through the open door of our tent.  But then, weather happened.  The forecast predicted rain for a solid 24-hours including when we would be setting up our tent.  Not only that, but there was a gale warning for a full day in the area with threats of wind gusts of 30+mph and possible wave swells of up to 11 feet.  Then, our kayaking tour that swore they didn't cancel until the day of canceled well over 24-hours in advance.  Oh, and did I mention the high for these days was about 50?  So, we wimped out and booked a hotel in the area that had a hot tub.  While sipping our wine in the hot tub, we laughed at our circumstances.  Yes, waking up on the beach sounded lovely, but not in the conditions we were given, so once again, we made the most of our time, but just adjusted our plans a bit.

These changes once again provided us with a little more free time, so we enjoyed some stops along the three hour drive between Porcupine Mountains and Pictured Rocks.  First, we stopped in the small town of Marquette, a shipping town with history of railroads bringing iron ore out to big ships that then dispersed it around the world.  A local told us that in the winter the whole harbor freezes over and they all enjoy using it as a skating rink.

Ore Dock

We pulled over to a roadside attraction, a sculpture garden created by one man. Lakenenland was started by a man, who self admits that he had a drinking problem and so he chose to spend his time instead creating works of art and placing them around a 37-acre park he purchased and now allows people to drive or walk through free of charge. The metal sculptures varied from alligators to rock bands to supporting labor unions to purple elephants. There was also a bog walk with hidden animal sculptures. A truly fascinating roadside attraction, and if you want to hear this glorious accent, you can listen to the creator of this unusual place.

Munising (with a long U) is a teeny-tiny town that averages about 200 inches of snow each year. Many road signs include instructions for snowmobiles as well. There is a lot of fishing (whitefish) and a fair amount of tourism for the Pictured Rocks. On our one full day in the town, the wind was powerful, and my weather app said that the windchill was in the upper 30s. The sun did come out in the afternoon, but it was still fairly brutal, so we did a very short hike to see one of the many area waterfalls, went to several scenic overlooks to see the stunning rock cliffs and then went in a couple of the few shops in town. One of which had a wine tasting of local wines. They were all fairly sweet, but it certainly wasn’t a bad place to enjoy part of a frigid day, sipping local specialties.

For dinner, we stopping by the local establishment, the Barge Inn, and soon found ourselves engrossed in conversation with fellow tourists and locals alike. I loved learning some of the local lingo, especially the term “trolls,” a derogatory term used to describe those people who live “under the bridge,” also known as main land Michigan.  We also learned about the famous food, pasties.  The area, known for mining had once been full of expert miners from Cornwall, and so the Cornish pasties, very similar to meat pies became common.  The Yoopers (U-Pers) are a proud people. It is mostly hard-working folks in the mining, shipping or lumber industries. It is rural, small towns scattered between National Forests even a National Wildlife Refuge. It is heavily wooded with a few scattered fields, but very little appears to be farmed. There are some rolling hills, but the southeastern part is very flat and even marsh-like.

The Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore is a truly stunning lakeshore along Superior with rock formations and rock cliffs right up against the water.  As they are right up against the water, the best way to see them is from the water.  We had signed up for a 6-hour kayak sunset tour of the rocks, but the weather changed that into a 3-hour morning kayaking tour.  I would love to come back and go further along the lakeshore while the afternoon sun hits it, but we enjoyed rowing up the colorful rock formations that are millions of years old, going into small caves and watching young seagulls huddle on the rock faces.

There is said to be lots of wildlife in the UP: black bears, moose, wolves, bobcats, fishers, porcupines, etc.  We were unlucky with mammals, unfortunately.  We did see sandhill cranes that winter in Florida and enjoy spring and summer months up here.  We only saw them along the roadside, enjoying marshy areas.  Their large brown bodies often stood out from a long distance, but it wasn't until we were upon them that we could truly tell what they were.  We were most excited to see a porcupine.  Many of the locals were surprised that we hadn't seen one at all, especially along the roadside.  It was near the end of our UP journey that we finally saw them.  Although we were disappointed that they were much flatter than we hoped, technically, we did see a porcupine!

Despite some uncertain weather, I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the UP, enjoying beautiful scenery, a slower pace of life, and friendly Yoopers!