London was my first stop of my long-term travels in 2012. Somehow, I managed to skip a post-long-haul nap, have a reunion with a travel buddy I met in Croatia and spent a few days on Hvar with, and also reunited with a friend from Las Vegas.
I did a lot of exploring while I was in London, from Notting Hill to Big Ben to the quaint pubs with yummy British food (hello, Toad in the Hole deliciousness).
My favorite day was spent with my old friend from Vegas, as he, his girlfriend and another couple wandering through London.
Including a visit to one of London’s Royal Parks, Hyde Park. The park stretches 360 acres in the city and is absolutely spectacular to visit.
It’s a fiercely windy morning in the Inland Empire’s high desert. Desert sand crunches underfoot and the icy gusts ripping through the barren area make tears race down my cheeks. Nearby, shrubs polka-dot their way up the snow-covered Big Bear Mountain. Backed up against the cloudless blue sky, the scene unfolding is the perfect display of the sublime beauty of the Southwest desert.
For a Friday morning, there’s no action here. Nothing at all. Unless you count a student film project parked on an open expanse of land, getting ready to jerry-rig a camera to a motorcycle for something their group is working on.
“The winter is slow,” says Stacie Samuels, who owns Pioneertown Motel, along with her husband. Right now, it’s just my room being rented.
On this morning, slow is an understatement.
We’re the only ones here. And, the area we have come to tour, a Hollywood lot fashioned after a 1870s frontier town, Pioneertown, is closed.
A relic of the Wild West.
Ground first broke in late 1946 with Roy Rogers flinging the first shovel of desert sand. Dreamed up by Hollywood investors, Pioneertown is a lot like Bonnie Springs. It’s got gun fights. It’s got the old western motif. But, there’s more to it. There’s a history here that unites Hollywood and the magic of film with the desert.
Today, Pioneertown is more tourist attraction that movie set, although the soundstage still stands at the far end of the little town.
It’s had the likes of Roy Rogers crunch down the same desert sand road as I walk. It’s been the on-location spot for shows like “Cisco Kid.” Hundreds of films have used the old west façade as a backdrop for stories, along with a handful of television shows.
The beauty of Pioneertown isn’t just the recreation of an old west town – it’s the interaction people get in exchange for a four-mile, windy jaunt up a mountain road from Yucca Valley, California.
On weekends, especially from February through autumn, Pioneertown is alive. There are two groups that stage gun fights and old west re-enactments– the Pioneertown Posse and the Gunfighters for Hire.
But, there’s more. The buildings, which on other sets are merely facades, have meat to them. There’s a throw-back bowling alley, which, according to the Morongo Basin Historical Society, is the oldest in the state still in use. A general store. A pottery gallery and more.
“People that come here either get it … or they don’t,” remarks Samuels.
It’s easy to see what she means. Not everyone is impressed with an old west town that was a part of the Hollywood western film heyday. Or the rustic – and darling – inn Samuels operates.
Pioneertown Inn is old. About as old as the town itself. With 17 rooms, it’s not posh. Or luxurious. But, it is comfortable and homey.
One wing of the rustic Pioneertown Inn.
The rooms offer the basics – a little front patio, a country-quilt covered bed, bathroom (complete with books for reading materials), big closets, windows that let sun spill in and a wall with kitchen necessities that include a sink, stove and microwave. For the ones who believe, stay in room 13. Rumor has it, it’s haunted. Don’t worry — according to Samuels’ the ghost is reportedly friendly.
Travel Tip: While you’re there, be sure to swing by the famous Pappy & Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace, adjacent to the main drag of Pioneertown.
A band performs at Pappy & Harriet's.
Originally a cantina for the town, today, it’s a restaurant/bar/music venue that ropes in renowned musicians including Lucinda Williams and Robert Plant, celeb guests (Ryan Gosling has been counted among the crowd), and a general crowd of laid-back hipsters, marines and families.
Make sure you swing by the bar and then the restrooms.
The men's restroom at the popular venue.The women's restroom.
Zagreb, Croatia was my the first stop in my 30-th Birthday World Tour in September, 2009. It was also the city which reinvigorated my love of travel, re-introduced me to crazy backpacker antics courtesy of some Aussies, let me believe (for a moment) in Hollywood endings, and eventually, began this crazy journey I am on today.
My first day, I simply wandered with my camera, shooting photos of daily life in this mesmerizing city that blends old with new.
Here’s one: I love Las Vegas‘ sky. It’s so expressive. There are plenty of vantage points where you can see clear across the town. When it rains on the west side, you can see the clouds dropping to earth from the east.
There is that perfect moment during a storm sometimes — when the desert sand, put up against the harsh blue-gray sky is magnificent.
I’ve known the lovely and talented travel blogger Abby Tegnelia for years. Pre my long term travel. And pre her expat life. So, when she and I, along with another lovely and talented travel blogger, Kristin Luna, brought up a trip to Napa Valley, Calif. to get away for a weekend, there was no saying “no.”
At the time, Kristin was living in San Francisco, so Abby and I boarded a Virgin flight and met here there.
Our first night, we stayed at the lavish Fairmont, and hit up Off the Grid. Then, in the morning, we drove through the thick fog and inland to the lush Napa Valley region.
We didn’t really have a plan, other than a tasting set up in the late afternoon. So, we just drove around and picked places. One winery we stopped at was Peju. While the vineyard was barren, I still loved staring out into the fields.
It’s 3:14 a.m. I’m wide awake. My heart is racing. My stomach is turning.
I’ve been awake for an hour. Every time I close my eyes and try to sleep, my mind sets off on a wild tangent. It curses my body for not being able to fall asleep. It relives my time with the elephants, my time in Chiang Mai, Thailand. It runs and runs and runs.
This has been going on for four days. This … jet lag?
I’ve never experienced this before. Every other time I have returned from travel, I’ve been tired for a day or two, but have never felt so utterly exhausted. So starved. So … shitty.
And now, I’m awake and the sun isn’t even up.
I run over in my head the options for such an early start.
I live in Las Vegas, which means if I want to go across the street to the local bar, it is still open. If I want to go to the gym for a quick workout to see if that will finally give my body permission to sleep, I could.
But, want I want to do the most is force myself to eat breakfast, drink a cup of coffee to stay awake until mid-day, and write.
And, because this is Las Vegas, there are very few spots where I can actually do that.
Yes.
Free wi-fi in Las Vegas is hard to come by. In a 24-hour-town, the amount of wi-fi that operates 24-hours at no cost is few and far between.
Starbucks, Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, they all have it. Only, they aren’t open. For another three hours.
Awake early enough to see the full moon sinking ...
Instead, I open my laptop and prop myself up on pillows in bed.
At first, I attempt to write. But, my brain is mush from lack of sleep. So, instead, I edit photos.
Then, the sun is up and I am out of bed, headed to the coffee shop for a change of scenery.
Later in the day, at my job, I sit on the computer, trying to edit menus, only the words blur. My eyes grow heavy, heavy, heavy.
This is unbearable.
A message pops up on my screen from my co-worker in California:
“Are you overwhelmed?”
Why, yes. Yes, I am. I am sleep-deprived. I can’t focus on letters. I can’t eat. Yes. Overwhelmed. And miserable.
I hastily respond: “Yes.”
Two nights later, I’ve made it through the night, sound asleep (thanks to some Tylenol PM). Regardless, around 8 p.m. on a Friday night, I’m out for Girls Night at a local casino, checking out Kevin Devine play poolside. Snuggled up on a lounge chair, I fall asleep for 20 minutes as I listen to his acoustic guitar.
The next week, I’m all but entirely recovered. I can eat again. I can sleep. Then, it happens.
The owners of the company I work for have requested a private meeting with me. Sitting in the private dining room of one of the restaurants, we speak about my time in Thailand.
“It’s clear you have been struggling,” says one of my bosses.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect to have such jet lag. It’s never happened to me before.”
“Well, you need to understand something. It has come to my attention you’ve been overwhelmed lately … and … it’s because of this trip you took. You’re part-time. We let you go on this vacation. And, it isn’t going to happen again.”
I sit there.
Stunned.
Did I just hear correctly? Did my boss just tell me I can never travel again while I am in their employment?
In a flash, I’m not even thinking about my jet lag anymore. I’m thinking how the hell I am going to get out of Las Vegas.
Fate sealed.
You can’t tell a traveler she can no longer travel.
What was once a glorious staircase, lined with tea shops and vendors, today sits in ruins on a Sarajevo hillside.
An entire lifetime of pain, suffering and redemption plays out on these crumbling stairs which were a part of the 1984 Olympics. They’ve witnessed the town being surrounded, the horrors of genocide, the beauty of growth.
The City of Roses, despite its tragic history, has overcome so much.
Chiang Mai was my first experience in Southeast Asia, and one I will always remember for countless reasons.
It’s the city where Katie surprised me with an early visit, forcing me to power through my jet lag.
The city which was my home base after a week with the elephants at Elephant Nature Park.
And, the city I tried to fall in love with.
Somewhere, deep down, I knew Chiang Mai very well could end up being my home.
So, I did what anyone would do who is scouting their potential future city. I took photos. Lots and lots of them.
A barber shop in Chiang Mai. There are no doors or outside wall, just open air to the street.
I loved wandering around and just taking in the beauty of life on the side streets.
A tuk tuk driver awaits his next fare.Some street cats explore a motorbike.
For me, even with the mountains in the distance, with the humid weather and the tropical flowers, it was hard not to think I was living in a beach town.
New to me were the little “restaurants” on the side of the road, in places you wouldn’t imagine. Throw out some plastic chairs, a little table and assemble a mini-kitchen on the sidewalk, and you’ve got a bonafide place to enjoy some seriously good homemade Thai food.
A quaint and colorful street restaurant.Ingredients to prepare some fresh and amazing Pad Thai.A more formal restaurant.
And then, there’s life around the old city walls and moat. There were plenty of times I’d be walking near Thapae Gate and see random trucks decked out with colorful decorations.
The ancient wall around the city.Taking in the few minutes of no rain during the country's rainy season.
I loved the way the city looks entirely different at night. Even the side streets seem to have a different atmosphere, with paper lanterns lit.
And, of course, no visit to Chiang Mai (or Thailand) is complete without visiting the numerous wats. Within the old city walls, there are plenty of them.
The gold of the temple glows against the rain clouds.
A temple dog hangs out on the table.
Tip: When visiting Chiang Mai, be sure to head to the Mae Ping River for some riverside exploration and dining.
Where to stay: While I was there, I stayed in a dorm room at A Little Bird Guesthouse (four-room, mixed dorm, around $2.50 a night), and later, at Chiang Mai Thai House. Little Bird is in the old city; the guest house is just outside of ThaePae Gate. Bonus? It’s got a pool!
A private at the Chiang Mai Thai House? Oh, a cool $13.
The good news? By the time I was ready to leave and put aside my excuses, I was smitten with this tropical mountain town.
Turkey is known for many of its handcrafted items — rugs particularly. However, on this trip, I stopped at a factory that created ceramics. These intricately painted items are sold throughout the country and feature beautiful patterns and pictures.
Here, a girl painstakingly outlines the design of a plate in a factory just outside of Fethiye.
D Travels 'Round 