Natural Beauty, Quirkiness and All Things Water

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Aquatic Adventures in Way Northern California

If you haven’t been to Stout Grove off Highway 199, you’re missing out on gargantuan redwood trees, some with hollowed out fairy nooks and a ferny understory with magical light shafts cutting through it all. No big. But what I didn’t realize is that this (free!) wonderland is also one of the gateways to the Smith River, in all of it’s Caribbean-esque glory.

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Cool Stuff To Do In Southern Oregon

So Oregon is already kick ass because you don’t have to pay sales tax or pump your own gas. (You literally can’t do it yourself, the law is you must be spoiled.) And there are hardly any cops in Oregon. And it’s full of cool shit. Here’s some of my favorites, the popular and the virtually unknown:

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Why I Adore Granada, Spain

So Granada is not really near anything. It’s closest neighbors are Malaga and Cordoba but they’re hardly close. Granada is not in the mountains and it’s not near the cost. But that’s why it’s not to be missed. Because the crowds of tourists are somewhere else.

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The Blue Grotto: The Path Less Traveled On the Road to Hana

On the road to Hana, I like the waterfalls without people. The kind where I can rock-hop naked and suck wild ginger and generally behave like a mad woman. How do you find one like that? By walking. Caveat: you might get muddy. You might get lost. Hell, you might find a waterfall I haven’t found yet. But it’s totally worth it.

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What the Hell Do You Do On Moloka’i? The Mellow Guide to Road Tripping and Some Cool Shit To Do You Will Never Find on the Internet

On an island of 8,000 people and no traffic lights…what do you DO on Moloka’i? Okay. Now first allow me to explain something. Maybe you’ve been to Hawaii- like Oahu, Maui or the Big Island. You know how people talk about “island time” being slow, where things happen at their own pace? What they’re talking about sounds really really fast on Moloka’i. Moloka’i is slow and that’s why we love it. Take a breather, turn off your phone, and talk to people. Ask questions. You’ll get way better answers than maps and GPS can offer.

Okay, so you wonder: where is this gorgeous picture? It’s the ocean view of Karen’s Yoga Retreat property. I’ll tell you about it.

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My Boyfriend’s Dad Buys an Island and We Inherit a Baby Sloth

Bocas del Toro, Panama is our home base. But beautiful Bocas is an island. Unless you fly straight in to the tiny “airport,” you have to pass through the last bastion of land. And that’s Almirante. You don’t want to linger here. It’s a port town, a hungry town, a wide eyed town. Where the turds from outhouses drop straight into the water.

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Where You Can Go Naked Surfing on Moloka’i

First order of business is the possibility of scoring a little freebie on your way to naked surfing beach, a.k.a Papohaku Beach: Pay attention to the available flight schedules on the smaller, inter-island airlines like Mokulele or Pacific Wings. They sometimes make quick stops in Kalaupapa to pick up mail or the occasional passenger, before continuing on to the main airport. The tiny outpost of Kalaupapa sits at the base of some of the tallest (2,000 feet) sea cliffs in the world, making it nearly inaccessible except by boat or plane. Its “airport” with a handful of chairs and one decrepit payphone against the backdrop of wild green feels like going back in time 100 years.  Very few people in the world get to see this piece of paradise, and you might just plop down here for a brief, free stop.

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The Deep South Tastes So Good: New Orleans, Baby!

The mardi gras beads were still dangling from giant oak trees when we arrived in New Orleans at the end of March. A local African American artist explains to me that as a kid on the streets during Mardi Gras, he’d shout, “over here! Hey mister throw some beads over here!” and glanced at the throngs of people catching fistfuls of the shiny necklaces and doubloons. He moved into the crowd of white people and crouched down.

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Auckland! K-Road, Street Art, Coffee & Comedy

When we get off the plane in Auckland at midnight, I am a little buzzed I admit. See, when I get up and headed to the bathroom a few hours into the flight, there was the whole crew of Maori dancers I saw file onto the plane. They’ve stuffed themselves into the flight attendant’s quarters near the loo, joking and bantering.

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Miami: A Boy, An Alligator and a $45 margarita

If I was going to do it, I was going to do it right. I book a room at the Posh Hostel in the heart of Miami Beach. Complete with glittering chandeliers, free wifi and a rooftop pool for $60. What more could I ask for?

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