We clustered on the ship's bow to watch the Ocean Diamond thread its way through the thickening maze of icebergs. There were so many that the Captain had been up most of the night making sure we didn't have a Titanic moment. Now we were stopped by chunks of ice the size of small mountains, and plenty of smaller ones that might offend the ship's hull.
To read more about this Antarctic Expedition, please visit: https://vagabond-adventure.com/vagabond-journal/category/Antarctica
I’m a shy man. I could spend days
happily alone, in a monk-like stupor. It’s very likely one of the reasons I’m a
writer rather than an actor or circus performer. If I had to be either
Siegfried or Roy I’d probably fail at both. No, for me a good day is hunkering
down with my keyboard to tap out words, preferably in an order that makes some
sense to others. Occasionally I succeed. But I also have this taste for novelty
and travel because, after all, arent novelty and new places two peas in a pod?
Now and then, though, my curiosity leads to more than I bargained for … like my first Hammam.
A
Brief History of Hammams
Hammams are a unique feature in
the muslim world. They go back to its very earliest days. The first of them
emerged in the palaces and desert castles of Damascus in the late 600s (AD)
thanks to Mu’awiya, a cleric who founded the Umayyad Caliphate in Syria. If you
look hard, you can still find ancient Hammam ruins in places like Qusayr 'Amra and Hammam al-Sarah. It didn’t take long for Mu’awiya’s idea to catch
on. Hammams soon became a key part of Muslim culture from Mesopotamia and India
clear across the Middle East and North Africa to Morocco and into Europe and
Iberian Andalusia.
Youssef was one of the guides who
helped us navigate Morocco and he says all sorts of variations of Hammams have
evolved, but the basic idea, whether you are in Turkey or southern Spain, goes
more or less like this: first you undress and spend some time in a cooling
area. After that comes a warming area with steam and then finally a hotter
section before being thoroughly scrubbed with a kessa glove — a stiff mitten
made of tree fiber specifically designed to thoroughly exfoliate your skin.
Next up, a special mud (usually loaded with magnesium and other minerals) is
applied before you are drenched again with warm water. As a bonus you can also
enjoy a kind of Swedish style massage and relax with some hot mint tea (if you
happen to be in Morocco).
The first Hammams emerged from
Greek and Roman baths, or thermae, which prospered during the heyday of both of
those empires. Cyndy and I visited a bath in Volubilis, Morocco, a Roman city built when Christ
was growing up. The baths weren’t working very well when we saw them, but
apparently they were when Isidris I, the founder of Moroccan Islam, later converted
it to a Hammam in the 8th century around the time he set up his first capital
city there.
Why, you may wonder, all of these
ablutions? For practicing Muslims, a Hammam serves both religious and civic
purposes. It provides for the Islamic
cleansing rituals (wadu and ghusi) required each week, while ensuring everyone
gets a serious personal scrubbing. (This was more of an issue in ancient times
than nowadays.) And it’s flat out
relaxing.
I first came across Hammams when
Cyndy and I were exploring Istanbul a few years back. But we were pressed for
time on that trip and I failed to try one out. So when Rayna, a tall dark young
woman who worked at Riad Kalaa where we were bedded down in Rabat, Morocco said
they had a Hammam right there on the premises, I wanted to know more.
“Let
me show you,” she said.
Descent
into the Hammam
I followed her through a narrow
archway and down steep stone steps into the riad’s bowels. We were way down
there. Inside I found three dark rooms, one with a tub (too small for a human),
the other two with large tables — one stone and one wooden. The whole scene
looked like a great place to hold the Spanish Inquisition. The rooms were
pristine, but I wondered if Riad Kalaa had always been a Hammam. It was built
in the 1600s. Maybe it used to serve as a medieval dungeon. Rayna chuckled and
said she didn’t know, but explained that the Hammam ritual was routine for
Moroccan muslims. Then she shot me a look as if to say, “Really, you’re gonna
like it.” I checked for chains and manacles anyway.
Despite my imaginary misgivings,
I could tell the place was the real thing, even if I didn’t know what kind of
real thing. But then, you know … novelty. I asked Rayna if she could arrange an
appointment for later that day — both the Hammam and a full massage. Why not.
We had covered a lot of ground. The old body was feeling the wear and tear.
“Yes,
of course,” said Rayna. “I’ll set it up for 4 pm.”
Back
in our room I asked Cyn if she wanted in.
“Ah
… no,” she said with military finality.
I was wary of the rituals of
Hammam because they seemed fairly elaborate. And I was clueless about how to
behave. It fell into that comfortable/uncomfortable space in the mind where
both “interesting” and abject fear reside, like bungee jumping or free
climbing. And the whole process appeared pretty damned intimate. What sort of
person would be drenching me? A large Arab from some bad movie involving Bruce
Willis? A saucy Mata Hari? Would I be alone or surrounded by other people? How
would I be clothed? How long would be Hammaming? Stop it, I said. You’re being
a wimp! Shut up and enjoy the ride! Millions upon millions of people have
partaken in these rites for 1400 years, and survived. Pretty sure you can too.
The
second descent into the Hammam. (Photo - Chip Walter)
Off
With Your Clothes
At 4 pm I headed down, down into
the dungeon’s ancient steps, the slap of my sandals echoing against the
sandstone rock. When i walked into the dressing room (or undressing room as it turned out), my
experiment immediately began to get interesting. Standing before me was a buxom
middle aged woman with short, tightly curled black hair. Her face was strong
and handsome. She smiled and showed me a row of gleaming white teeth, but said
nothing. She wore a kind of black bathing suit and longish shorts. I smiled and
gave her a hearty hello which I immediately realized was entirely out of place.
Her name, I learned later, was Najeera. She might have been Libyan or Moroccan,
Sicilian, Italian or Andalusian; maybe some combination of all of them. I only
knew that in those dark eyes lay a kind of smoldering, no-nonsense gypsy look.
She quickly disappeared into the
room next door and I heard a faucet being turned on. She moved silently and
with commanding speed, grace and calm while I stood in my pants, t-shirt and
sandals looking thoroughly like a white man from the USA entirely out of his
element. Steam soon emanated from the nearby room. After a minute or so she
returned and seemed surprised and a little annoyed to find me still standing
unmoved. With a quick sweep of her hand she motioned for me to take off my
clothes and then turned back to her duties.
Really? Weren’t we in a Muslim
country? Wasn’t scanty clothing usually looked down upon in these parts?
Especially when it involved people of the opposite sex? Was I really to
entirely disrobe in front of this woman? I swiveled my head, looking for cover
because surely there was some other scrap of clothing I was to wear, a loin
clothe maybe? Behind me I found two robes. While Najeera had her back to me, I
slipped off my pants and shirt and threw on the robe. She returned and looked at me again and rolled
her gypsy eyes. What was this guy’s problem? She stood, silent for a moment,
then held her hands and arms out with palms flat against one another, almost
prayer-like, before suddenly whipping them open like a door, clearly telling me
to get the robe off!
“Everything?”
I gulped.
A
vigorous nod, and then a gesture to enter the steaming room.
Chip
sans shirt takes a selfie in the mirror
Everything??!The appalling image
that Najeera faced once she commanded I disrobe. Took this picture later to
illustrate, more or less, what she saw … except in this case I’m wearing pants.
I dropped the robe, now nekked as
Jesus on Christmas morn, and shuffled into the room. It was me and Najeera, and
not another soul.
I was to lay down on my stomach.
Thank, God, I thought. I obediently scrambled onto one of the marble slabs
which had been topped with a neoprene mat, and waited. Water and steam had been
running into the little tub I had seen on my first visit and was rising and filling
the room. I lay, awaiting what? Then, gently Najeera began to douse me with a
large ladle filled with hot water. It was just the perfect temperature and I
felt suddenly calm.
“Ca
Va?” She asked to check if the water was too hot. Her first words.
“Ca
va.” I croaked.
Now she stroked my body with a
soft cloth, sweeping the water across my back and legs and everything in
between. I was getting a very thorough and intimate cleansing. This went on for
several minutes before my boss directed me to roll over.
What?!
Here in a blink we went all my
old Catholic upbringing out the window, all remnants of the Victorian Age not
to mention American proprieties about lying naked in front of total stranger.
What would the nuns at St. Germaine’s think? How would I control my you know …
well, you know … the part of me that often seems to have no control?
Maintaining
Control
I rolled onto my back thinking
deeply about the geometry problems that plagued me in high school while Najeera
performed the same ablutions on my front as she had on my backside. Gentle
hands, gallons of hot water, careful attention to each detail. The steam roiled
and the water, which had long ago spilled out of the nearby tub, now ran
everywhere on the floor. I closed my eyes and shifted my thoughts to chess
gambits.
This went on for several more
minutes until Najeera asked me to roll back onto my stomach and now with her
kessa, undertook to separate every inch of my epidermis from the rest of me.
Truthfully, this process isn’t as painful as it sounds. You aren’t flayed,
precisely. It only assures that the days of whatever dead skin happen to be
clinging to your epidermis are now and forever thoroughly numbered, which is,
of course, the idea behind Islamic purity of mind and body. I was feeling
simultaneously relaxed and invigorated.
I could hear Najeera breathing
hard in the steam as she worked to scrub my neck and back, my bottom, thighs,
calves, feet and toes, the whole magilla. Next I was flipped onto my back
again. By this time I had moved onto exploring prime numbers, and then I gave
up. Go with it, I thought. Let John Thomas have his way. Enjoy the moment, the
steam, the soothing douses of warm water, the invigorating scrubs. Najeera has
probably seen more naked men and their nether regions than your average nurse
in her lifetime, and could care less. She was simply doing her job. Yes, there
was something erotic about this, and parts of my body were more than … touched,
but this was not about sex. It was part of a long and ancient ritual that was different
from anything I had ever experienced before. So like the Brooklyn cabbie says,
“Fugettabaht it!”
The scrubbing took a good 15
minutes assuming I didn’t fall asleep. I may have, I was enjoying it that much.
I gave my self over entirely to Najeera.
My skin felt alive, renewed, fresh. When I was done, my epidermis would
have sung a Meghan Trainor song if it could have. Skin is the body’s largest
organ and deserves more tender loving care than at least I’ve given it in my
life. Waking it up, cleansing it, releasing the oils and detritus we and the
world slap on it could not possibly be anything but a gift. Scrub, scrub. Every
now and again I found myself mumbling a grateful, “Trés bien“ which did nothing
like justice to the pleasure I was experiencing.
Scraped clean, Najeera rinsed me
with more warm water. After that she lathered me top to bottom with a bar of
black soap. Then more ladling before commanding me to sit up cross legged to
drench me again. Imagine that image. Or maybe not. I flashed back to the days
when I was five and my mother would put me in the basement washing tub because
after a summer’s day of exploring the woods, ponds and creeks, I was filthy.
“Come here, you little raggamuffin,” she would say, lifting me into the tub.
Here I was again, a raggamuffin in a Moroccan Hammam 40 feet below ground with
a dark haired gypsy. That, I thought, is what travel is all about, the
broadening of personal experience in the most unexpected and exuberant ways.
Now came a final bathing: the
mineral rich mud which Najeera slathered on me forehead to toes. This did not
dry in the moist heat of the room, but I could feel my skin absorbing it before
I was ladled with more of the warm and relaxing water. I was now cleaner than I think I may have
ever been in my life.
But
she wasn’t done yet.
Even though I was feeling more
like a boiled pasta noodle than a human being, Najeera managed to sit me up,
wrap me in a towel and march me 10 feet to the wooden massage table around the
corner. Off came the towel with a flourish and I was laid face down for a fine
rubbing with oils unknown to me. Again, Najeera worked with thoroughness and
care, front and back. I’m sure I dozed even as I tried to enjoy the relaxing
touch of every muscle. This woman had the hands of a stevedore yet massaged me
with a strength and gentility that unknotted every muscle (except one) for a
good hour. I could hear her breathing hard and sometimes watched her wiped the
sweat from her dark brow, as she kneaded me like a bundle of bread dough. She may
have had the hands of a longshoreman, but I had begun to realize she also had a
sweetness that belied her nun-like commands.
In time we were done. I opened my
eyes. Najeera flashed her white teeth. I could only muster another lethargic,
“Tres bien. Merci beaucoup! Merci! Merci!” And a stupid grin.
I rose and it was work to pull on
my clothes. Najeera simply stood
nonchalantly by. She could care less.
I asked her name. She told me.
I gave her mine. She daintily
held out her strong right hand. “Enchanté,” she said.
“Enchante,” I replied, and
reflexively closed my hands in a prayer, bowed and sputtered out another merci.
Finally she smiled and daintily tilted her head.
When I indicated payment, she
waved a finger and said, almost crossly. “No. Upstairs.” Meaning I should pay
at the office. We will not taint this ancient ritual with something as lowly as
money. Once again, a kid being reprimanded by the nuns at St. Germaine’s.
I thanked her one last time and
ascended the steep steps. I felt like a new man. No wonder, I thought, that the
people of Morocco seem so open and warm. How could they not be if they do this
every week.
This is Dispatch XXXVI in a
series about a Vagabond’s Adventures - journalist and National Geographic
Explorer Chip Walter and his wife Cyndy’s effort to capture their experience
exploring all seven continents, all seven seas and 100+ countries, never
traveling by jet.
If you’ve enjoyed this dispatch,
please take a look at Chip’s other adventures (and misadventures) … and don’t forget to check the Vagabond Journal and our Travel Recommendations to help you plan YOUR next
adventure.
Sign up here to get our newsletters delivered to your email
along with news and special offers in the Vagabond
Adventure Store
Resource: https://vagabond-adventure.com/library/visiting-a-moroccan-hammam-in-rabat
A Complete Guide
Overview
Patagonia covers more than
1,000,000 square kilometers. That’s larger than Ontario, larger than Egypt, and
twice as large as Spain or California.
So getting around can require some planning.
There are plenty of ways to go.
Author and novelist Bruce Chatwin famously spent six months hiking and thumbing
his way southbound from Lima, Peru. The British explorer and writer Lady
Florence Dixiesrated in Ushuaia (Before it was known as Ushuaia) and headed
northeast. I spent four weeks traveling
from Puerto Montt to Ushuaia by way of Tierra del Fuego and Cape Horn. If
you’re planing to explore, you probably need a good three weeks to really do
the trip justice, and buy some time to relax.
If you’re arriving from outside
South America, the most common entry to the continent into Ushuaia by air via
Buenos Aires. That’s the southern route. Arrival in Santiago, Chile is also a
good option. From there you come into Patagonia from the North by way of Puerto
Montt or San Carlos de Barioloche, regarded as the gateway to Patagonia.
Once in Puerto Montt, you can
journey by sea (including the Navimag
ferry — recommended) or by land (car or bus). Train service in Chilean
Patagonia is essentially non-existent. The options are not much better in
Argentinian Patagonia, where only the Tren
Patagónico operates, serving a small region in the north from Viedma to
Bariloche - a route with hours long views of endless steppes. Fans of Paul
Theroux will recognize this route in The
Old Patagonian Express. In
Argentina, long distance commuter service arrives courtesy of the many buses
which are generally fast and affordable. We recommend Andes Mar in Chile or check Busbud.com for a selection in both
countries.
The best option might be a car
rental, except car rental agencies in Chile and Argentina don’t play nice and
charge high fees for crossing the two countries. Drop off fees are prohibitive
or non-existent. Just do your homework. If you drive within either of the two
countries, the highway systems are extensive and generally well maintained,
except in rural areas. Adventurers should select an unlimited mileage plan and
make sure you have contact info in case a car breaks down. Mine came to a dead
stop outside of Torres del Paine when we found the rattling from the ruts had
decoupled our battery cable. (Details
of that misadventure here.)
A
Patagonian Itinerary
Day
0. Arrive in
South America via Santiago.
Day
1 - 2. Arrive in
Puerto Montt. Fly to Puerto Montt from Santiago. Enjoy a day in Puerto Montt.
Days
3 - 6. Ride the
Navimag to Puerto Natales. The
ferry carries you through hundreds of miles of the most remote territory in
the world, offering remarkable views of Patagonia’s stunning archipelagos.
Day
7. Enjoy a day
in Puerto Natales. Natales still has a frontier feel, but constantly upgrading
as the tourist industry prospers. Take a hike
above the Laguna Sofia Patagon and visit the Milodon
cave.
Day
8. Drive to
Cerro Castillo. Cerro Castillo mostly operates as a border crossing for
Argentina and a gateway to Torres del Paine, but if your timing is right, you
can catch one of the great
horse festivals, called “Jineteadas,” presented one weekend per month
through the summer. Flexible itineraries might consider a diversion across the
border to see Glaciar Perito Moreno in Los Glaciares National Park. Budget 2-3
extra days.
Day
9 - 11. Visit
Torres del Paine. Depending on how much time you have and how inspired you are,
Torres can be a couple days or a couple weeks, or months! There are opportunities
for hiking, horseback riding, kayaking, and more.
Days
12 - 13. Visit
Punta Arenas, the capital of Chile’s Magallanes region and the most populous
city in Southern Chile. You can get there by bus or car within a couple of
hours. Take a
walk through the city and visit the Cementerio Municipal, Nao Victoria
Museo, and Parque del Estrecho de Magallanes. There is also a massive casino.
Days
14 - 18. Explore
Tierra del Fuego on Australis Cruise. Sail
through the channels beginning in Punta Arenas among the islands on the way
to Cape Horn, the southernmost land not in Antarctica. Enjoy hiking, incredible
glaciers, and waterfalls that thunder into the sea. This is the land that made
names like Magellan, Fitzroy and Darwin famous.
Days
19 - 20. Explore
Ushuaia. The Australis expedition stops in Ushuaia, the final stop on this
adventure. The southernmost
city in the world is a fine place to reflect on an epic three week
adventure. Plan some time for Tierra del Fuego National Park and take the End
of the World train. Tickets available in the center of town.
Day
21. Fly to
Santiago. Depart South America with
memories of a lifetime.
Bonus. Travelers who can’t get
enough and want to sneak in a couple of extra days might think about exploring
San Carlos de Bariloche and the surrounding areas on their way out. Bariloche
is the main tourist region of Argentinian Patagonia. Catch a flight from
Ushuaia to enjoy the mountains, rivers, and the endless hikes. Take a side trip
by car to Butch Cassidy’s ranch in Cholila. Read how I
found the famous outlaw’s ranch here.
Itinerary
Map
.jpg "Itinerary Map")
The recommended itinerary, by day
and location. Transit route between locations is approximate. Day counts are
estimated. Stay flexible to accommodate unexpected events.
Read more about great locations,
travel planning and expeditions throughout Patagonia in our article in 10
Great Ways to Experience Patagonia.
Travel
Planning and Logistics
When
to Travel
In Southern Patagonia, the
temperatures can reach as high as a crisp 45°F in the summer. Although, there
is a winter culture to enjoy, most visitors prefer the summer months. The
tourist season begins in the late October spring and extends through the
summer, ending around March. You can avoid what crowds there are by traveling
“on the shoulder” during spring or fall, but the weather will be less
predictable.
Choosing
a Guide or Travel Service
Adept travelers can do well
managing by themselves, but guide can really help, especially if you don’t
speak much Spanish. They can also help arrange visits to remote locations, or
hiking/outdoor excursions, kayaking, horseback riding etc. There are not many
guides. I worked with Luciano
Galvez Martinez. He is local,
extremely knowledgeable, speaks multiple languages fluently and in my
experience absolutely honest.
Expenses
Thanks to its remote location and
its popularity as a destination, Patagonia can be more expensive than most
other places in South America, but that doesn’t necessarily mean costs are
outrageous. Lodging and food come in at about the same cost as you would find
in the United States. Budget carefully for transportation. The Australis
(Ventus) voyage is not cheap, but it is exceptional. Navimag costs about the
same as a hotel with food for four nights would cost. That’s quite reasonable
considering the experience you get in return. Rental vehicles are another option
for travel through this part of the region, but schedule ahead because cars can
be hard to find and, therefore, expensive. The cost for excursions will vary
depending on visitor preferences. Fortunately, scenery is free. We recommend
these, or working with Luciano.
Gratuities? In Patagonia, 10%
will suffice for a job well done.
Communicating
Non-spanish speakers might have
some trouble in rural and out of the way areas, but should have little trouble
managing in the bigger cities, popular tourist areas or the various cruises
where english is widely spoken. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to buff up on your
basic exchanges for transactions and transportation.
Telecommunications
Cell service is sometimes very
slow or nonexistent. Don’t expect service in the remote areas. Internet
services will be acceptable, but generally slower than the United States, in
the good hotels.
The Patagonian Winds
With hardly any land mass in the southern hemisphere, there is little buttress against the stiff westerlies that ransack the bottom of the world. These winds are omnipresent and relentless. They can, and will, blow you over at sea level and elevation. These are the winds that saw Magellan and his peers cross vast stretches of ocean on either side of the continent. As with any expedition, dress carefully. Pack for the wind, and heed the warning signs:
precaucion zona de fuertes
vientos!
… If you get the chance, and need
further evidence of the role played by Zephyros, visit the Monument to the Wind
in Puerto Natales (above)
Places
to Lodge
Capturing Patagonia is an active
affair. Comfort while immersing in Patagonian delights is critical to a
memorable adventure. Here are just a few suggestions to relieve the stress at
the end of a long day. Find many
more recommendations here.
Hotel Cabaña del Lago Puerto Varas
- Puerto Montt. This full service spa and lakefront hotel is a great upscale
lodging option, particularly for those travelers about to spend the next
several days on Navimag heading into the heart of Patagonia. Located in Puerto
Varas, 10 miles from Puerto Montt.
Kau
Lodge - Puerto Natales. This charming little hotel sits right on the water,
but easily within walking distance of town. This is a great place if you want
to be in the mountains with great views of the day and night skies. It’s worth
putting up with the trickling water.
Hotel
Lago Gray - Torres del Paine. Great service and stunning views make this
4-star lodge a winner. From the hotel you can catch the views of the great
spires of Torres del Paine, Gray Lake and Gray Glacier. The restaurant is first
class.
Hosteria
del Torres - Torres del Paine. This hosteria comes with all inclusive
options. They offer horseback riding, vehicles, and guides. The restaurant is
quite good!
Hosteria
Restaurante America - Ushuaia. Located near the geographic center of
Ushuaia, the Hosteria offers clean, mid-line service and is near the airport.
The meals are excellent and if you chat up the chef just right, you might get a
little extra with your meal. (He made me popcorn because he know I have an
addiction.)
Hotel
Albatros - Ushuaia. The Albatros is a great stop, located in front of the
Beagle channel and ships heading to Antarctica. The hotel has a spa, concierge
services, and an excellent restaurant.
Dining
Along with its breathtaking
natural wonders, the food is good, sometimes spectacular. Here is a small
selection of some additional recommendations based on personal experience. For
even more, visit
our Patagonian recommendations. We’re always updating.
Kau
Lodge - Puerto Natales. A good
lodging option as mentioned above. Comes with a top notch service and a cozy
coffee-shop/restaurant to fuel up in the morning. The breakfasts are excellent.
.jpg "The Wake Up Cafe in Punta Arenas")
Wake Up Cafe - Punta Arenas. A top-notch, quirky eatery, excellent for breakfasts and their delicious pastries.
Okusa
Restaurant and Emporio - Punta
Arenas. Rustic charm and delicious Chilean food. Okusa looks like a cross between
a London pub and local bodega. Offers a local menu and a wide selection of
wine.
Mesita
Grande - Punta Arenas. An Italian-Patagonian fusion specializing in pizza.
The guanaco with arugula is a treat that visitors might find intriguing.
La
Parrilla Restaurant - Ushuaia. This big, vaulted eatery is famous for its
lamb, the torsos of which are stretched like textiles over metal grids that
stand beside the open fire in the front window. Rated one of the best Argentine
restaurants in the city.
Kalma
Restaurante - Ushuaia. High end dining with an eclectic and
creative menu that seems to change daily. Kalma applies the concept of
environmental cuisine where the ingredients are the product of Tierra del
Fuego. Reservations recommended.
cover of 'Twas the Night Before
Christmas So beautiful it deserved to
be resurrected. A classic edition of Clement Clarke Moore’s famous poem,
celebrating its 200th anniversary this year. Digital edition on sale - only
$2.99 'Twas the Night Before Christmas - 1912 Classic Edition.
Explore
Further
Read about the extensive travels
of my Vagabond-Adventure
through Patagonia in the Vagabond Journal then follow our journey around
the world traveling all seven continents.
For more suggestions, including
additional information about the services and experiences throughout Patagonia,
visit
our Patagonian Recommendations. Recommendations are updated frequently.
Leave any questions in the comments below or contact the Vagabond-Adventure
to learn more.
Bottom
Line
Patagonia is a land that
inspires, revitalizes, and leaves an indelible mark on anyone who ventures
there. Its charm lies in its raw, untamed beauty and its ability to awaken a
sense of wonder within each visitor. So pack your bags, leave the world’s noise
behind, and head to Patagonia. You won’t regret it. While you’re on your way,
enjoy these two inspiring books about the region: Bruce
Chatwin’s In Patagonia and Paul
Theroux’s The Old Patagonian Express.
Resource: https://vagabond-adventure.com/library/a-perfect-patagonian-itinerary
If you love adventure, are looking to explore the most interesting places in the world and want great travel advice, then you’re in the right place.
See more: https://vagabond-adventure.com/
It
the Valentine Time of the Year - Perfect for a Surprise Getaway to those
Out-of-the-Way Places With the One You Love
Designing a surprise trip for
your loved one is an exhilarating challenge, filled with opportunities to
create lasting memories. It’s not just about picking a destination but about
weaving an experience that resonates deeply with your partner’s preferences and
dreams. This comprehensive guide from A
Vagabond’s Adventure
will provide you with vital insights to meticulously plan a trip that not only
surprises but profoundly delights your beloved.
Tailoring
to Your Partner’s Taste
Understanding your partner's travel interests is the cornerstone of planning a
successful surprise trip. Whether they revel in the thrill of adventure or bask
in the tranquility of nature, pinpointing their preferences is essential. Do
they want to really get away and try something off the beaten path like Morocco or Patagonia, or are they more interested in
exploring a week in Baja California or the American West? This insight ensures the
destination and activities align perfectly with their tastes, setting the stage
for an experience that feels personally crafted and deeply thoughtful.
Harmonizing
With Their Schedule
A seamless surprise trip requires
meticulous alignment with your partner’s schedule. The art lies in discreetly
ensuring their availability without giving away the surprise. This careful planning avoids potential conflicts,
ensuring that your well-crafted surprise unfolds smoothly and is met with
unbridled enthusiasm and availability.
Crafting
a Heartfelt Invitation
Creating a personalized
invitation injects a unique spark of excitement into your surprise getaway.
Employing a free invitation maker, which allows your creativity to stand out,
to design an invitation that beautifully reflects your partner's personal style
not only heightens the anticipation but also infuses the surprise with a
heartfelt touch. This considerate act, blending creativity with affection, significantly
enriches the overall experience, conveying to your partner how deeply cherished
and valued they are. Moreover, the use of a free invitation maker to stand out offers a cost-effective yet
impressive way to add a professional flair to your thoughtful surprise.
Having
Financial Foresight
Strategic budgeting is crucial in
orchestrating a surprise trip that is both remarkable and financially
responsible. Planning a budget that encompasses all aspects of
the trip, from travel to leisure, ensures a delightful experience without the
stress of overspending. This allows for a journey that’s enjoyable, not only in
the moment but also in reflection, free from financial worries.
Finding
Walkable Accommodations
Choosing accommodations that
support a healthy lifestyle can significantly enhance your travel experience.
Opting for a hotel or vacation home located in an area with a high Walk Score of 70 or above can make the trip a lot less
stressful because it make its easy to reach plenty of destination with a
minimum of hassle. No cabs or buses or vans to worry about. And walking to
shops, restaurants, and attractions, puts some exercise into your daily
itinerary. Such a choice not only contributes to your physical well-being, but
also offers a unique and immersive way to explore your surroundings, making
your trip both enjoyable and health-conscious. A Vagaboind-Advenure we walk
everywhere and have plenty of examples of wonderful locations we’ve explored by foot from Maine
to Western Europe to Norway.
Integrating
Sentimental Elements
Incorporating sentimental
elements into your trip can transform it from a simple getaway to an
unforgettable journey. Whether it’s visiting a place with special memories or
including favorite activities, these personal touches infuse the trip with emotional
significance. Such thoughtful planning deepens your bond and makes the trip
uniquely meaningful.
Prioritizing
Health and Comfort
Ensuring your partner’s
well-being during the trip is paramount. Choosing accommodations with wellness
facilities, planning health-conscious activities, and maintaining a balanced
diet underscores your care for their comfort and health. This thoughtful
consideration not only enhances the enjoyment of the trip but also reflects
your deep understanding and care for your partner’s preferences and needs.
If
Your Traveling Overseas
Overseas trips require a little
extra effort, especially when you’re planning trip for two. Make sure you both
have your passports up-to-date (most countries require that your passport be
good for at least 90 days in advance of your arrival at the country you’re
visiting). Check with the United States State Department for info. Depending on the
places you plan to visit, also check to make sure if you require visits or
vaccinations too. The State Department cam also helps guide you on these
issues.
Engineering
an Unforgettable Reveal
The reveal of the surprise trip
is as crucial as the trip itself. Crafting a unique and memorable way to unveil the surprise, whether
it’s an ingenious scavenger hunt or a heartfelt note, sets the tone for the
entire journey. This moment, filled with joy and surprise, becomes a cherished
memory that enhances the entire travel experience.
Masterfully planning a surprise
getaway for your partner is an art that involves more than just selecting a
destination. It’s about understanding their desires, aligning with their life,
and adding personal touches that speak volumes of your love and care. By
following these insights, you can craft an extraordinary experience that not
only surprises but also deeply resonates with your partner, strengthening your
bond and creating unforgettable memories.
Be sure to join us on a Vagabond
Adventure to
explore the world's most interesting places, cultures, and stories, one epic
journey at a time.
Resource: https://vagabond-adventure.com/library/the-art-of-a-suprise-getaway
Haparanda,
Sweden
Day
638 — From Sweden to Finland
The morning was bright and sunny when we awoke in Boden, Sweden, even if it was below freezing. The previous evening we had arrived at the town’s tiny train station and hauled our bags to the Quality Bøden Hotel for the night. This morning our plan was to return through the town’s quiet streets to board our 11:51 train to Haparanda on the Swedish border, from whence we would cross into Tornio, Finland, and strike north to Arctic Circle and Lapland, where, I was told, I shared some genes on my mother’s side of the family. Solid plan, except …
The
train was canceled.
But no worries. A bus would come at 12:22 and drive us instead to the same town. At least that’s what the little rambling message that crawled along the lighted sign above the door told us, assuming we had deciphered the Swedish messaging correctly. Nei for no; tåg for train; bussima for bus at 12.22.
We passed the time reviewing the
denizens of the Boden train station. Foremost among them, were four young men
lying on wooden benches absolutely zonked. Their snoring gave no indication of
their origins, but when they woke, chattering in Arabic, I guessed Middle
Eastern. Nothing gets by me.
Then across from our bench, sat an elderly couple, clearly deeply in love. The little woman wearing her white tossel cap joked with her big husband, kissing and hugging him as often as she could. He caught my eye and smiled a little sheepishly between snatched kisses. Nearby a stocky man with short hair sat beside his quiet young wife. Both expressionless, waiting.
After awhile I noticed the
sleeping men coming out of there tupor. They gazed around the room, utterly
lost, and began scrambling left and right like four Keystone Cops. Their heads
of hair were wild and thick from sleep. Rapid discussions ensued, then all four
grabbed their gear, stood before the train schedule’s rambling message and
simply blinked. What could all of these symbols mean? The messaging confused us, and that was only
because everything was written in Swedish. To these men, the words crawling in
lights above the door were as foreign and meaningless as Chinese or Cyrillic
Russian. I wanted to help but wasn’t sure these men were even bound for the
same train - I mean bus - and the best Arabic I could resurrect was salaam
(hello) or shokran (thank you), or maybe an inshallah (God willing), and none
of those were going to be very useful.
Now the four scrambled in a
cluster to the platform outside, then back inside to the station entrance, and
then outside again to the other side. For a time there was silence. At one
point, the stocky man, noticed a phone on one of the benches. He had just
picked it up when one of the four skidded into the station searching furiously.
The stocky man handed the boy his phone. Visible relief. Then the other three
returned, one by one, all still flummoxed. It really was quite a show.
By this time the bus had arrived, and so we boarded. The elderly driver revved the engine and prepared to pull away when the four burst together out of the station. One of them said something I couldn’t hear through the window to the bus driver.
“Haparanda, ya!“ Called the
driver of the bus. “Haparanda!” and he waved them all in as if they were a
flock of ducklings. The men it turned
out, were, like us, headed to the Finnish border. Why or how they had found
themselves in the North of Sweden was beyond our comprehension, but they
probably couldn’t fathom why a couple of around-the-block Americans like us
were on the same bus either.
Meanwhile, another little mystery
was unfolding. The cute, elderly couple, the one where the woman was hugging
and kissing the gentleman in the train station so publicly, had boarded the
same bus that we had, except now she was alone. Where did the loving hubby go?
Cyn and I joked that they probably weren’t happily married for 55 years like we
had thought, with seven children scattered happily throughout Europe, but had
in fact hooked up on Tinder and just
passed the weekend at one of the local hotels banging the headboards! She was
smiling a lot.
Once she was in her seat, her partner in crime waved to her at the window, and was gone faster than the Road Runner in a Wiley Coyote cartoon. Late for his next tête-à-tête, no doubt.
The bus was soon rolling into the
wilds of Sweden along a two-lane highway through some of the most beautiful and
pristine winter landscape we had ever seen. On either side of us for the next
several hours we passed nothing but dense woods, deep snow, and ice-encased
trees stripped to their branches.
Haparanda
At 2:30 PM our bus pulled up at
the train station where we hoped we could catch a train across the border. Our
affectionate woman had already arranged
to be dropped somewhere in the heart of the town, and for all I knew she’d be
hooking up with the bus driver later as a way of saying thanks! I mean … it is
Sweden.
At the town’s edge, everyone
piled off at the train station — the Middle Eastern Four, the man and his wife
who had found the lost phone, and us. As we were about to debark, I mentioned
to the bus driver that we intended to cross the border to Haparanda’s sister
city, Tornio, in Finland.
“Stay,” he said, holding up his hands, “we go to the Shell gas station.” When the Middle Eastern boys heard this, they stopped. They too were headed to Torino. The old bus driver waved everyone who had gotten off back on.
Five minutes down the road we
were at the Shell station. We and the boys found a small mall near a giant IKEA
store. It was bitter cold: 19°. We dropped our bags inside wondering how we
might grab a cab or bus across the border, but when I consulted our Apple Map I
found that our hotel in Torino was a mere 18 minute walk from where we stood!
“Want to walk across the Finnish
border?” I asked.
“We walked into Mexico,” said
Cyn. “I guess we can walk into Finland.” (You gotta love her her!)
Finland
Out we went into the cold. Soon
the early winter sun would disappear. It wouldn't be getting any warmer. We
followed the path over the hard crunching snow. It took us through a tunnel
under a highway and there stood the sign telling us we were at the border. Cyn
stood with her bags, and several hundred yards away we could make out the
northernmost edge of the huge Bothnia Sea that separates Norway and Sweden from
the rest of Northern Europe. Nearby sat a cluster of buildings, and, we hoped,
our home for the night.
Fifteen minutes more hauling our
rollers through the snow, fingers growing numb, we made it to the Olof Hôtel,
where, we were very happy to see, the owners had gingerbread biscuits and hot
free tea.
This is Dispatch XXXV in a series
about a Vagabond’s Adventures - journalist and National Geographic Explorer
Chip Walter and his wife Cyndy’s effort to capture their experience exploring
all seven continents, all seven seas and 100+ countries, never traveling by
jet.
If you’ve enjoyed this dispatch,
please take a look at Chip’s other adventures (and
misadventures) … and don’t forget to check the Vagabond Journal and our Travel Recommendations
to help you plan YOUR next adventure.
Sign up here to get our
newsletters delivered to your email along with news and special offers in the Vagabond Adventure Store.
Scandinavian
Recommendations
If you’re heading to Scandinavia
or you’re shopping for ideas for your next excursion, we wanted to share our
recommendations. Feel free to leave your own suggestions too in the comments
below! We want the thousands of other vagabonds who have joined us to know
about the places you’ve explored and about your own experiences in Scandinavia
(or anywhere in the world, for that matter). Here are a few suggestions. Visit
our Recommendations
page to get ideas and suggestions from around the world!
Resource: https://vagabond-adventure.com/library/walking-from-hapranda-sweden-to-tornio-finland
