In Autumn of 2018, I found myself in the Chalkida province of Greece, traveling alone for the first time in my life. I took the trip to expand my comfort zone and experience a part of the world completely foreign to me. And yeah, to enjoy the beautiful Mediterranean. Visiting Greece is not supposed to sound like a chore.
I spent the first two weeks of the volunteering at a refugee camp hosting refugees from the Middle East and Africa. The experience was eye-opening and more emotional than I thought it would be.
After two weeks at the camp, I started to feel worn out. I decided to book a train to Athens and meet my Dad who was coming to visit me. The trip did not get off to a fast start. First, I managed to board the wrong train and started heading in the opposite direction of Athens. That’s when my phone decided it would be a good time to run out of battery. In Athens, tourists can get by without speaking Greek, but this was not the case in Chalkida and I struggled to find someone who understood my situation. I felt alone even though I was surrounded by people.
Embarrassed, I fumbled around the train, trying to build up the courage to ask strangers for help. Eventually, I met a friendly Greek couple who helped me transfer trains at a nearby station. It was late when I finally got to the hotel and all I wanted to do was relax for the next few days. My father’s flight would be getting in later that evening and I was sure he would want to do the same thing, hopefully on his dime.
! His itinerary for the weekend included a guided bike tour of Greece. Our guides were experienced cyclists and were delighted to learn that we had never ridden road bikes before. They were pretty confident that the route my Dad booked would be too challenging. Truth be told, I really had no interest in biking 65km that day, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. Grudgingly I accepted that my relaxation would have to wait.
We then proceeded to ride from Athens to Corinth which was as beautiful as it was agonizing. True fatigue began to set in on the last 10km, we struggled big time. The desire to get off the bikes was strong enough to fuel us into Corinth. We disembarked and hobbled over to the canal, which is a marvel of 19th-century technology.
The Corinth Canal
I was ready to head back to the hotel when I saw someone jump off the bridge transpiring the canal walls. I had never seen a Bungee jump before, but fun was not exactly the first word that came to mind. Unfortunately for me, this trip was about leaving my comfort zone, and I couldn’t think of a better way of doing this than jumping off a bridge.
Two weeks at a refugee camp, the most stressful travel experience of my life, and a 65km bike ride had left me pretty tired. I had not planned on free-falling 45 feet when I woke up that morning. Yet, it just felt like the right thing to do. Sometimes the best adventures are unplanned, unexpected, and even undesired.
In 2017, I was given the opportunity to study classical singing with professors at the prestigious Eastman School of Music, in Rochester, New York. As a high schooler, getting one-on-one time with esteemed faculty from this famous university was very hard to come by, extremely exciting… and incredibly nerve wracking.
The program was a three hour’s plane ride away from my home in New Mexico. I’d be living with a roommate in a college dorm for a month. That would be the longest time I’d lived alone that far from my parents.
When my parents and I got into an Uber to head to campus, I remember looking out the window, surprised to see how small the city was. When I thought of ‘music’ and ‘New York’ put together, my mind went straight to bustling streets, skyscrapers, glitz, glamour and energy at every corner. But Rochester is in the Northern part of the state. Hours away from New York City.
The slightly unkempt streets of mid-town were lined with wall-to-wall faded pastel wood condos. I remember seeing two kids shooting hoops in their front yard and running into each other, seemingly because there was always less space to run around in than they’d hoped. The shopper’s buildings were short, flat roofed, made of brick or stone. I could tell when they were newly refurbished almost immediately, because there wasn’t paint chipping off the seams of each cemented rock.
All of this was in extreme contrast to Eastman campus.
The main auditorium at Eastman School of Music is made of glass, with a domed ceiling that towers over everything else on the block. When I walked up the stairs to the stage, the bamboo floors were freshly polished. I could see the grand piano’s reflection at my feet. A red velvet curtain cascaded down from the ceiling. I was in awe that I’d be performing here in a month.
For the first five days or so, I attended my classes quickly and quietly, did my homework in the lobby, and then would go back to my room and text friends back at home until dark. Sometimes until 3am since that was only midnight for them. I didn’t see my roommate much. She would spend a lot of the day out exploring. She’d sometimes invite me along, but I wasn’t really interested in exploring the city that kept me up at night with the sounds of sirens in the distance.
Then one night after rehearsal, a few girls invited me to go to grab pastries with them. I had been pretty recluse up to that point, so I was surprised they even knew my name. However, music theory homework was looking pretty daunting for that weekend, so I decided I was happy to have the distraction.
They took me about 3 blocks east of campus, and turned into a little blue door in the middle of the plaza. The sign hanging over it read “Java Café”. A bronze bell rang over our heads as it hit against the door frame. I was immediately greeted with a classic, vintage coffee bar. Hand-drawn chalkboard menu, copper espresso machine, tiered scone tray and all. The walls were painted cobalt blue, adorned with abstract paintings and distorted, modernist photos. The music was ambient and smooth. Almost as soothing as the smell of fresh cinnamon coffee cake, hot from the oven, being panned into the display case.
Walking around the corner I saw a mahogany staircase leading into a basement, coated in scarlet light. It was a bit steep, so I clung to the gothic black metal railing. The ambient music from above faded away as I descended, gradually being replaced in my ear by the sound of reggae. At the bottom, immediately to my right is a line of three pool tables, a bar at the far end. I immediately ask a hand for balls and cues, challenging one of my friends to a two out of three.
I went back upstairs and ordered an Aztec mocha (a mocha with a dash of red chili powder; a New Mexican staple, that apparently is also found in Rochester.) They served it to me downstairs, where I was already beating my friend at pool. Decisively.
After accepting defeat, the four of us went back upstairs and sat on the wood barstools in the breakfast nook. I ordered another mocha, iced this time. There were street performers playing the bongos and singing for a modest, but very engaged impromptu audience out in the plaza. They were only illuminated by the dim cream lights strung between lamp posts at either end of the lawn. Watching intently from the window, I sipped at my mocha and spiced dark chocolate filled every crevasse of my mouth. Its rich, decadent taste seemed to melt all my apprehension away. I fell into a daze, and the sounds of the room started to fade into the background. I hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks.
I might have remained like that for the whole evening, but I was snapped back to reality by a young man greeting us at our table. He introduced himself as a free-lance artist trying to make a name for himself. As we invited him to sit down, he pulled a small black folder out of his saddle bag and opened it to reveal four charcoal sketches. Portraits of each of us.
I took the aged piece of paper he’d drawn me on delicately from his charcoal blackened hands. I had a half smile on my face, eyes closed, taking a sip from my mocha. It looked like it belonged in a kooky Art Deco frame, posted on the wall with the rest of the art in this place. It almost seemed wrong to take the drawing out the door; it felt like I’d be ripping it from its home.
He asked us if we’d like to make a donation, and of course I accepted. I was captivated by the unique, quirky, animated style behind the piece. I found myself glancing at it and smiling for the rest of the night. I don’t think the frame I bought for it does it justice, but it is still hanging in my room to this day.
For the rest of that trip I couldn’t stop exploring the city. I visited the Java Café more times that I want to admit. (Let’s just say, by the end I’d reached first name basis with a few employees.) I started going to more concerts and sight singing parties with friends (these are where a bunch of singers come together to since a piece no one there has ever seen before. It doesn’t always sound great, but it sure is fun!) I contacted home less and less as I got more wrapped up in the city.
On the last weekend of the trip, I introduced everyone to a small underground karaoke bar I’d found one night, and we all surprised each other with songs to sing. I was given Sweet Child o’ Mine by Guns and Roses. Whenever I hear it I’m reminded of that trip, and the people I got to know over that month. A lot of them lived abroad, and I haven’t seen them in person since. But we’ll always have Rochester, Java, and Eastman School of Music.
I’m someone who never wants my knowledge of how people make their way through the world to stagnate. So I’ll keep studying psychology, philosophy, writing, and music, as my outlets to understand them better, and hopefully travel to get my chance to meet them. Then maybe, we might get to change just a little bit of each other’s lives.
In 2019, during my time studying abroad in Spain my junior year of college, a group of my close friends and I decided to book an Airbnb on the high cliffs of Atrani overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. I embarked on my trip to Italy with the hopes of eating amazing food, seeing beautiful sights, and relaxing on the beach. I first flew to Naples to meet my friends. From Naples we then took a van through the city of Pompeii, as well as the Italian countryside on our way to the coast. I will never forget sitting in the crowded van with my eyes glued to the window as we sped through the windy Italian roads.
Our Airbnb in Atrani, which was big enough to sleep 20, sat atop what appeared to be a never-ending system of stairs and walkways. After meandering our way up the mountainside, we finally made it to our house. Never in my life had I ever stayed in a place with such breathtaking views. We spent the first day on the beach, enjoying the crystal clear ocean water. The clarity of the water along the Amalfi Coast could rival any mountain spring creek in Colorado.
We soon realized, however, that the only open restaurant in the small town of Atrani was a rundown pizza and sandwich shop. And no, I am not talking about the pizza one might imagine finding in Italy. Immediately, I became horrified that I may not get to enjoy a true Italian feast during my visit. For anyone who has never been to the Amalfi coast, the landscape is rugged, and it is nearly impossible to move between towns without a motorized vehicle. That night, I ate my soggy pizza, praying that it would not be the only thing I ate for the next two days.
When I woke up the next day, I made it my mission to find a true authentic Italian restaurant that would be possible to walk to. This is easier said than done with minimal cell reception and no knowledge of the Italian language. While my friends spent the early afternoon enjoying drinks on the beach, I was asking around hoping to find someone who spoke enough English to tell me where to get a meal. I was fortunate enough to meet a local man who looked to be about my age who directed me to a tunnel which connects Atrani to the neighboring town, a very good resource to know about. From there he gave me directions to a very old restaurant whose name translates to Grandma Amelia’s. I knew in that moment that I had found what I was looking for.
This wonderful little restaurant by the sea was able to seat all 21 of us (at various tables) along the sea wall. When we arrived at the restaurant, my nose filled with the most incredible smell of fresh herbs and slow cooked meat. As I sat there drinking wine and enjoying the most incredible Bolognese ever crafted, I felt all my hopes and dreams for my Italian vacation coming true. We sat for hours eating, drinking, and doing our best to converse with the locals.
My state of bliss continued into the next day as we had rented two mini-yachts with crew to take us on a tour of the Amalfi Coast. Our crew showed us some amazing scenery and even took us to a place where we could cliff jump. For lunch we docked in the large town of Positano. There we were treated to another fantastic meal of fresh seafood and pasta. As I sat riding on the bow of the boat cruising through the emerald blue waters, I felt incredibly fortunate for the experiences I was having.
The next day as I packed my bags and boarded the van to take us back to Naples, I could not help but feel a bit sad. I loved my time interacting with locals, and Grandma Amelia’s homemade Bolognese is something I will surely never forget.
My mom, dad, and I at the Louvre, Labor Day weekend of 2002
In 2002 when I was 14 months old, my parents and I went to Germany to endure 2 weeks’ worth of hospital appointments when they were trying to diagnose me with what we now know as Spinal Muscular Atrophy. As a much-needed break, my parents decided we would spend Labor Day weekend in Paris, because why not?
I only know this based on stories they’ve told me, but the gist is that it was chaos from the beginning. Apparently, my dad booked the reservation at a hotel with an address of something like 1234 Paris St, Paris… spoiler alert: Paris St, Paris doesn’t actually exist and neither did that hotel. So, my poor parents were stuck walking around the streets of Paris with me, until they found an available hotel room.
The stroller they were borrowing from a friend fell apart within the first day we were there, so my parents had to take turns carrying me around the city. They set aside an entire day to visit the beautiful Louvre, but I guess I didn’t appreciate art back then, because I proceeded to scream at the top of my lungs while my parents rushed past the Mona Lisa and Venus di Milo to get me out of there.
Now, I’m 19 years old and I have regrets about how I spent my time abroad. Being physically disabled leads to some challenges in travelling across the country, and I can’t even imagine trying to go across seas. But now, with COVID-19, no one is travelling, and that has encouraged museums to go virtual – including the Louvre. So, I have taken full advantage of these resources being free at the moment, and decided to take a day to go “visit” some beautiful art.
***
I started my grand adventure with a simple Google search of “French cafes near me,” after all, I needed to get the full experience. I quickly found that La Belle Rosette was only a ten-minute walk from my dorm room, and I was off! I enjoyed their quaint little area that wasn’t too big, but I imagine it is nice and intimate when you can dine-in. I ordered the Rosaletta panini lunch combo, and my friend got the Mona Lisa panini combo – needless to say, we felt very French.
La Belle Rosette, taken on October 6th 2020
We carried our treats back to campus and ate outside the Beans café and enjoyed our delicious sandwiches. Then, the real adventure began. I easily found the Louvre’s website, and within a few clicks I had found their virtual galleries.
The galleries’ online experiences were all unique, some went full-on like a Google Earth street view, and some were simple panoramas that you could slide through. A lot of the pieces had zoom-in options and captions of what the name was, who created it, and brief descriptions of what the medium was and/or what they were symbolizing. The only unfortunate thing was that those captions were all in French for most pieces, so I would recommend having a translator at the ready.
A screenshot of the exhibit “The Body in Movement,” taken on October 11th 2020
You can view the art and filter search results by the room the art is in, or by the exhibit it is included in. I went by exhibit, since I didn’t have any art in mind, and I wanted to experience as much as possible.
There was an exhibit appropriately titled, “Founding Myths: From Hercules to Darth Vader,” that I instantly clicked to view more in-depth. It included sculptures and paintings depicting the Greek and Roman heroes and monsters, and more modern concepts. I couldn’t identify what in the exhibit had to do with Darth Vader or the Star Wars saga but I assumed they may have been mentioned in French or on a sign that was too small to view. I enjoyed the artwork nonetheless. There were even interactive pieces, which I found odd and exciting coming from this prestigious museum. The “What, Where, Who?” light game was really intriguing, as it invited guests to press buttons that controlled different lights to convey the power that color and shadow has on art. Unfortunately, that wasn’t part of the virtual experience, but there was a button explaining the concept.
As I clicked out of that section, I realized something; I apparently had seen the Mona Lisa when I was 14 months old, and I have no memory of it… I should look it up! Sounds simple, it’s bound to be in one of these exhibit links and I’ll be able to tell people, “Yeah, I’ve seen the Mona Lisa… virtually.”
I followed through the list of available virtual exhibits, including the “Remains of the Louvre’s Moat,” saw the Great Sphinx of Tanis and some animal mummies, glanced at some sculptures of Greek deities…
But there was no di Vinci!
I started overthinking it (as I’m prone to do) and convinced myself that maybe they exclude di Vinci’s work from the virtual tours, keeping them as a “hidden” gem only available in-person. Bummed, I started clicking random French buttons thinking I’d find the online giftshop so I could daydream about buying a t-shirt, and then I saw it. Clear as day, in an 8-point font at most, was a link titled, “Mona Lisa Beyond the Glass.” Huzzah! This whole “trip” was worth it!
I was soon enveloped in a 5-minute long video of the curators of the di Vinci exhibit explaining how they have created an exhibit exclusively for the Mona Lisa to be viewed on a virtual reality headset. They explained that every visitor wants to have their moment with the beautiful piece, but due to crowds, people only get an average of 30 seconds in front of her. So, they created a VR-experience that allows you to see the individual layers di Vinci had to use to create the depth and details. There’s even an app anyone can download on their smartphones (for free) that gives you the same exposure to the art. I didn’t install the app since the video was immersive, and instead I downloaded the free exhibit booklet, and learned that it took di Vinci from 1503-1519 to finish the masterpiece.
As a little treat, I perused the online giftshop, oohing and ahhing at all the pretty replicas that could be purchased at a range of €3.00 to €2,500! I considered purchasing a small notebook as a souvenir for this “once in a lifetime” experience, but after calculating shipping, I realized my small notebook was going to cost more than a new hardback novel from Barnes and Noble. So, I decided to simply bookmark the page to look back at and proceed to ooh and ahh at it.
My first and second visits to the Louvre were vastly different – for starters there were far less tears this time around! And even though this recent “trip” was quite unconventional to most, it was probably the best I am going to get, and I enjoyed it! Lately, a lot of people have been talking about what the “new normal” of the world is going to be, and I hope virtual tours are something that sticks around. Not only is it more physically accessible, but it allows people with economic issues to still experience the beauties of the world in an immersive way. After all, isn’t art one thing that everyone should have access to?
Hey! I’m Zoe, a second year English major with a concentration in creative writing. I love reading and writing (but I guess that’s probably a bit obvious, huh) and I enjoy watching Netflix and hanging out with my English Bulldog, Huggsy. I’m really excited to be a part of this class and I’m looking forward to working with all of you!
Hidden in the magical British Colombia rainforest, the Bowron Canoe Circuit has been providing paddlers with a tripping experience like no other. If diverse wildlife, stunning views, and unique campsites are what you are looking for, Bowron is a great next adventure.
Before you start packing, here are 7 Things to Know About Bowron Lakes.
Getting there
This is one of the best parts, especially if you like road trips. The canoe put-in is an eight-hour drive north from Vancouver. Luckily, the Sea to Sky corridor is the most scenic drive in Canada, passing through famous towns like Squamish, Whistler, and Lillooet. It is also possible to fly into Kamloops BC, which cuts the drive in half.
We choose to drive up from Whistler and stopped by several famous alpine lakes along the way!
2. Permits
Very important to reserve your permits and do it early!!! The beauty of the Bowron is a poorly kept secret and spots in the park are limited. Permits are $60 per person ($30 for the shortened circuit) and can be purchased here.
Once you’ve purchased your permit, you are required to report to the ranger station for a trip briefing and weigh in. The ranger station is located conveniently next to the start of the trip.
Late July to August is the peak season for the canoe circuit, I recommend securing permits at least two months in advance.
3. Outfitters
Northern B.C. does not have a lot of residents but it sure does have my favorite canoe outfitter in Canada. They’ll set you up with paddles, life jackets, packs, stoves, and most importantly canoes. They also rent canoe carts for the portages, which I recommend not renting if you are an experienced canoe tripper. Carrying the canoe is part of the experience!
Expect to pay $100-$300 depending on how much gear you need to rent.
You can park at the outfitters and they will shuttle you to the ranger station where you will begin the trip. Please note: they only have a small selection of food and camping items, so definitely pack these beforehand.
4. Trip Length
The record for the circuit is less than 24 hours, but since that is not recommended, plan for 5-10 days depending on your style. As experienced canoeists, we completed the circuit in six days at a relaxed pace.
Maps can be purchased from outfitters, online, or at the ranger station. They are helpful to identify campsites, wood caches, and portages. Navigation wise, the trip is quite straightforward as it follows a near-perfect parallelogram.
Portages (where you carry your canoe and gear overland between lakes) are well-maintained and moderate in length. There are also a few sections of moving water that can be easily paddled through if water levels are high enough.
5. What to pack
Food and Fuel
Pack extra days worth in case you get delayed.
Water purification system
Filters, chlorine tabs or boiling water are all safe options
Campsite supplies (Tent, sleeping bag, etc)
Bear Spray and Bear Bangers (Essential)
Know what to do in a Bear encounter
Warm clothes (non-cotton)
Cotton clothes will not dry, wool or synthetic material is recommended.
Wet clothes
The clothes you plan to wear throughout the day, they’re supposed to get dirty
Rainjacket (Essential)
Trash bags
Pack out your waste
Duct Tape
6. Food and Bears
Bears are common in the game preserve of Bowron and are closely monitored. Typically only Black Bears are spotted but Grizzly Bears sightings are not unheard of. Pack bear deterrents like mace for safety. Park Rangers will close campsites that have had bear sightings and will notify canoeists of updates. Bear caches are at every campsite and portage to keep food out of reach. Leave no food behind and do your best to leave a small scent trace. Luckily, these preventions and the number of travelers have kept bear encounters low.
7. Weather
Since Bowron is found in Canada’s only temperate rainforest, expect rain often. It can get quite cold during the early summer months, especially when combined with rain. Ensure you have proper rain gear and a good tent to keep you dry at night! On the other hand, Bowron is host to many bluebird sunny days that invite you to go swimming. A hat and sunglasses would not be the worst of ideas.
Lanzai Lake
There is beauty in the uncertainty of a canoe trip, and Bowron will certainly keep you on your toes. Enjoy the trip of a lifetime!
