• Home
  • Accidental Birder
  • Accidental Traveler
    • Trips
  • A Travel Love Story
    • Rendezvous Journal
  • About

The baby aspirin years

~ Ms. Boice falls in love, travels and eats her way through life in the post-40 years.

The baby aspirin years

Tag Archives: travel

Lessons from a Grand Canyon Helicopter Ride

28 Friday Mar 2014

Posted by Ms. Boice in Trips

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Arizona, Diet, Fear, Grand Canyon, Helicopter, Las Vegas, nature, Nevada, travel, weight loss

Grand Canyon 2I’ve never wanted to get into a helicopter because there’s this thing about the helicopter people needing to know how much I weigh. Something about making sure the weight is distributed evenly in the helicopter. That, or just the plain joy they must get in humiliating people.

Oh, and there’s also that thing about helicopter crashes.

People don’t talk much about the helicopter crashes, but I know about them because on some Saturdays I might get sucked into some cable channel TV show about helicopter crashes in between binging on episodes of “Locked up Abroad,” which, to be honest, freaks me out just a little bit more than hearing about helicopter crashes.

But when husband, Steve, suggested we take a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon during our weekend stay in Las Vegas part of me thought it was cool and the other part of me was frightened to death—mostly about the being weighed thing. You see, I adore my husband and he can suggest pretty much anything and I’ll go for it. After nearly six years of marriage I’m still like the smitten gal he first met who wanted to impress the socks off of him.

Yet, there was no way I was going to discuss my weight with him or anyone else. I don’t care how official they were and how it impacted a helicopter ride.

Shhh. Don’t tell anyone.

All the way to the little helicopter airport, I went over in my head how I was going to address the weight issue. It’s not like my driver license where the weight listed there is a complete lie. You see, I wrote that down years ago and never really corrected it. But to tell someone at the little helicopter airport? Out loud? If I lied about my weight, I’m certain the airport person would survey me up and down with her eyes and I’d get that “oh, you’ve got to be kidding” look. I couldn’t face that.

I was wringing my hands in the airport in Boulder City, Nevada—which was smaller than my local DMV—and I was still trying to plot out this whole thing. If I just said it super speedy, maybe husband and others would never hear how much I weigh. Or I could write it down on a Post-it Note and give it to the gal behind the counter after I folded it up into a tiny piece the size of a dime. Yeah, that’s what I would do.

Astonishingly, I didn’t have to do any of that. I didn’t have to lean over the check-in counter at the little airport and whisper my weight into the ear of the lady. No, I just had to stand on the magic tile on the floor in front of the counter—a tile that looked like all the other tiles on the floor—and it weighed me and secretly put my weight number into her computer. Not on a big, flashing display for all to see, or shouted out to the whole airport, like I feared. My weight number just magically slipped through some tiny wire or cable into the lady’s computer. It’s like I didn’t weigh anything AT ALL. The number was imaginary. I could pretend I was 30 pounds lighter if I wished. And the lady didn’t look at me in a judgy way either.

It was our secret.

It’s actually possible to feel lighter than air

Riding in a helicopter

When it was our time to go, we loaded into the helicopter by assigned seats, which I’m told had something to do with our weight. I couldn’t figure out the rhyme or reason as to who sat where and the math of it. I was just happy they didn’t make me wear my weight number around my neck or on a shirt. After a brief instruction and snapping into the seat belts, the helicopter lifted straight up as if we were pulled by a string. No barreling forward at high speeds like a jet to race up to the sky. Some skilled (and giant) puppeteer had us by a string and was taking us for a ride on a beautiful day with cyan skies above the reddish-brown landscape. I felt light! I was up in the sky and apparently wasn’t so heavy that I kept the helicopter from rising.

I followed our helicopter’s shadow over the dusty desert of Nevada as we headed toward Arizona. This desolate area was free from the shiny, glittery loud Las Vegas we just left. In the headphones our pilot narrated where we were, but mostly I heard the whirring engine of the helicopter and felt like a baby who was comforted by the vibrations of a car. The only reason I wasn’t lulled to sleep was I couldn’t keep from looking out the window at the tiny rocks, mountains that looked more like hills, and itty bitty cars on what few roads there were.

Of course, I’d been in a gazaillion airplanes and have looked out the window at tiny Monopoly-sized homes and streets and baseball diamonds, but being in a helicopter provides a certain intimacy with the ground. Airplanes are so high maintenance and complicated to get up off the ground and back onto it. Helicopters, on the other hand could take off and land in a jiffy. No matter how much I weigh. (Actually, that’s not true. I’m sure there are limits.)

We hovered over the Hoover Dam and took a peak at the wall of concrete with its arms wrapped around it’s little section of the great Lake Mead reservoir. Having just stumbled upon birding over the last seven years, I wondered if this was what it was like to be a bird, soaring over the earth. I know being in a helicopter is not exactly soaring, but it’s not a jetliner either. To be above the earth and feeling weightless was startling to me. Startling that I ever cared about the weight thing.

The 30-minute highlight

picnic at Grand Canyon

After a 40-minute flight, we landed at a part of the Grand Canyon, not in the National Park area, but at an Indian Reservation. This was supposed to be the highlight of the trip, according the tour’s brochure. We had 30 minutes on the ground at the bottom of the canyon, so we snapped a few photos, had a picnic lunch of a sandwich, Lays potato chips and a little brownie bite in a plastic cup. Not the meal of a dieter and certainly no one was weighing us to get back on the helicopter, so I didn’t care.

Our time at the bottom of the canyon felt cut short. We couldn’t hike and explore. Being in the air was what took my breath away. Peering into the canyon from the South Rim a few years earlier was heart stopping. However, being on the floor of the Grand Canyon was more about looking up and around. There just wasn’t enough time to absorb it. No time to stoop on a rock and rest my chin on my fist and do some contemplating. None of that. Just time to gobble down the cute little picnic and look quickly at my surroundings.

Grand Canyon 1

 

Grand Canyon 4

Lessons learned from helicopters.

Our pilot called for us to get back to the helicopter and the propellers began to spin and we were lifted up in the air again. We didn’t take the same route back over the Hoover Dam, but headed straight toward Boulder City. I peered down at the ground, looking for Mule Deer or Mountain Sheep, but they were out of site. Unlike dramatic Saturday television shows, we didn’t crash our helicopter and, really, no one cares how much I weigh except for me. It made me think of how many other things I’ve avoided because of what I feared and that maybe I cared too much about what people might think of me or how I look or how much I might weigh. I mean, really—no one cares.

None of that matters, of course. None of it, except this:

Grand Canyon 3

 

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

On being a writer at the 2002 Winter Olympics

08 Saturday Feb 2014

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

2002, 2002 Winter Olympics, Olympics, Salt Lake City, sports, the Olympics, travel, Utah, Winter

When I moved to Salt Lake City in 1996 I had one thing in mind: Be part of the 2002 Winter Olympics. Look, I’m not a skier. In fact, I kind of hate winter, but when I watched on TV the Olympics in Albertville, France and then Lillehammer, Norway I fell in love with the Winter Games, even more so than the Summer Games. Perhaps it’s the cozy scenes they show with the snow flakes falling as if choreographed, or the layers of furry clothes everyone is wearing. Might even be the nordic sweaters, because I think they’re kind of cool. Or maybe it’s because I love what I can’t do. It’s rather dreamy to watch people do something you can’t possibly do yourself, like ice dancing swizzles, or zig zagging down a mountain on skis, or sporting a speed skating unitard. Nope, can’t do that one at all.

But I can write. So when a friend told me about a job opening for the Main Operations Center as a writer I couldn’t pass it up. It was a part-time contract position and something I could do just during the few weeks of the Olympics. That meant I still had my day job, which required leaving the office around 4:00, catching the light rail to the Olympics Headquarters and working a night shift. (Two shifts were actually all-night shifts.)

Skier, I am not. Writer, yes.

But I wasn’t going to limit myself to just working behind the scenes. I already had purchased tickets a year in advance, so I needed to squeeze in being a spectator as well as meet up with out-of-town friends. It’s no surprise that I got very little sleep for the two weeks I was working.

Like any writer, I kept a journal during my two weeks and as the Sochi Olympics are just getting started, I’ve been going down memory lane. Here are excerpts from my experience:

February 10, 2002

I’m really enjoying my gig with Olympic Radio.  I’m working in what’s called the MOC (Main Operations Center) in the headquarters downtown and it is definitely the nerve center of everything that’s going on.  Of course, you know I’m eating that up, as I like to know EVERYthing that’s going on and always want to be one of the first to know.

Also eating up all the Krispy Kreme donuts they keep bringing in for us. Someone please put a stop to that. Please

Warming up with friends on  Main Street in Park City at the 2002 Olympics.

Warming up with friends on Main Street in Park City at the 2002 Olympics.

February 10, 2002

Oh, my favorite thing to do is to talk to people who are visiting.  This is very exciting for a lot of people.  They’ve been saving their money a long time to come and visit.  For some reason, wearing the uniform makes me more gregarious and makes me want to talk to our guests.  I truly feel like I’m a hostess and this is my dinner party and I want to make sure everyone has a great time.

Look at me! I'm doing the Skeleton!

Look at me! I’m doing the Skeleton! Not really. Right outside the Main Operations Center was a business that photoshops your face on an athlete. So yes, now I’m a winter sports athlete. Ha!

February 12

Okay, the hot thing in town is the USA Team’s blue beret.  I have been on a mad search for it and people are cleaning it off the shelves.  Went to the SLOS (Salt Lake Olympic Square) Superstore on my lunch today and the berets were nowhere to be found. Then I found the store, Roots (the Canadian manufacturer of the USA Team uniforms), and there was a run on them there too.  They said they can’t keep them on their shelves.

Not yet giving up.

Look! We got our berets!

Look! We got our berets!

February 14

I finished my first all-night shift.  Not too bad.  I came home from work yesterday and took a 2-hr. nap.  Was hoping it would end up longer, but that didn’t happen.  But I felt refreshed nonetheless.  I then went to work at the MOC at 11pm and finished 5 a.m. this morning.  I then went straight to the gym and made the 6 a.m. yoga class after about 10 mins. on the treadmill.  Now I’m ready to eat a little breakfast and then go to bed.  I have the day off.

February 25

It’s odd that it’s all over now.  I mean, I’ve been waiting for the Olympics to happen before I even moved here.  I think SLC really surprised itself that it could be pulled off.  And I think people on the outside were really surprised too.  Hopefully a lot of people’s misconceptions have been corrected.  I’ve heard nothing but positive things about the party we put on.  Sure there were judging scandals, and countries getting their feelings hurt, and people having medals yanked for doping, but I think we can all feel a little relieved that the guests enjoyed themselves in SLC.

So I proved that I can still write with only 3 hours of sleep a night. Would I do it again? Even with the lack of sleep? Yes, without hesitation. I may not be athletic but I can spit out words for spectators like no one’s business. And hey, maybe I will have another chance at it, as I believe Salt Lake is bidding again.

I'm all ready for the 2014 games with my new Team USA hat. Go team!

I’m all ready for the 2014 games with my new Team USA hat. Go team!

0.000000 0.000000

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

When the clouds parted

31 Friday Jan 2014

Posted by Ms. Boice in Rendezvous Journal, Trips

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

dating, memoir, Narrows, nature, photography, relationships, travel, Utah, Zion National Park

Zion National Park Rendezvous

You would have never known that 24 hours earlier you couldn’t see but five feet in front of you. But that was Bryce Canyon National Park the day before and this day we were at Zion National Park and it was a bright, warm October day.

Uh, yes.  That's me in front of Bryce Canyon

The day before. What do you mean you can’t see Bryce Canyon?

And the next day there were clear skies.

The next day: Zion National Park’s clear skies show no hint of the neighboring fog.

This was day two of my third rendezvous with Steve. To recap, just six months earlier we met in Scotland, then met up again three months later in London and Bath, England, and three months after that we were rendezvousing in my home state of Utah, discovering National Parks just four hours sound of where I live.

And things were going very well.

So well that I took the clouds parting as a sign. A sign that I was officially in a long-distance relationship, which was something I swore I would never do.

I swore I would never do a lot of things.

Like date online.

Fly across the ocean to another country to meet a guy.

And, yeah, find myself in a long-distance relationship.

A long-distance affair.

A long-distance affair.

Walking the trail, hand in hand with Steve, I couldn’t feel more lucky to have ignored all my “rules.” This is perfect. Absolutely perfect. The trail ended oddly at the bank of a shallow river and as I began to turn around to walk back to the trail head I was being pulled in the opposite direction into the river.

“Wait! We’re going into the water!” I felt the water up to my calves.

“Of course,” Steve said. “Let’s hike it.”

“No we can’t,” I insisted. He still was pulling me along. Do I stop him? Do I follow him? I don’t want him to think I’m not fun.

“Sure we can. Everyone else is,” he assured me.

And that’s when I noticed that there were others hiking the river. (I later learned that this was called “Hiking the Narrows.”

Trying to look cool as I hike the Narrows.

Trying to look cool as I hike the Narrows.

The water was cold but after a few minutes I didn’t notice it any more. The bottom of the river was full of pebbles and rocks and I might as well had been walking on marbles. Everyone else made it look so easy. I was desperate not to look stupid. I wanted Steve to think this was no big deal, like I do it all the time.

Posing in a kettle during our hike.

Posing in a kettle during our hike.

After awhile I began to get the hang of it. Just walk slow and steady. Keep your balance, I kept telling myself. Just pretend you do this all the time. Because normally I would never do something like this. I never thought of myself as an adventurous person.

But getting on a plane to rendezvous with a stranger in Scotland was adventurous.

And so was repeating that in Bath, England.

Plus that whole long-distance relationship thing.

Sometimes people drag you into the river to go on an adventure and experience something new on a warm October day with cobalt blue skies.

Steve takes a break on a rock in the Narrows.

Sure, I’d follow this guy into a river. Anytime.

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

Jamming Sydney into five days

03 Sunday Nov 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Australia, Blue Mountains, Darling Harbour, Manly Beach, photography, Queen Victoria Building, shopping, Sydney, travel, vacation, Wildlife

I only had five days for a trip to Australia.  I know, crazy right? But it’s all the vacation time I had stored up at work. Plus, it makes me sound so spontaneous, which I’m totally not.

After recovering from my stupidity in not knowing one needed a travel visa to get to Australia, and watching all sorts of Australia-related movies on my flight over (including Cry in the Dark a.k.a THE DINGO ATE MY BAAHHBEE!) I met my mother at the Sydney airport where we caught our taxi to our hotel in The Rocks neighborhood in Sydney.

Day 1: Hanging out at The Rocks

Surprisingly, the Holiday Inn at The Rocks is a fantastic find. You get these views from the rooftop:

Sydney Harbor Bridge as seen from the rooftop of the Holiday Inn.

Sydney Harbour Bridge as seen from the rooftop of the Holiday Inn.

Sydney Opera House gives crazy poses in the morning from the Holiday Inn rooftop.

Sydney Opera House gives crazy poses in the morning from the Holiday Inn rooftop.

The hotel is also nearby this great aptly-named restaurant, which we visited more than once:

The Rocks Cafe in The Rocks 'hood in Sydney.

The Rocks Cafe in The Rocks ‘hood in Sydney.

But it was mostly so we could eat this chocolate merengue thing. (Confession: on more than one night.)

This chocolate merengue torte from The Rocks Cafe has some sort of addicted substance in it, I'm certain.

This chocolate merengue torte from The Rocks Cafe has some sort of addicted substance in it, I’m certain.

From our pad in The Rocks we also could spot people who were actually climbing on top of the Harbour Bridge. Mom and I tossed around the idea of doing the Harbour Bridge walk/climb thing and it boiled down to the fact that the idea of it freaked out both of us. It was less dangerous to go back the The Rocks Cafe and eat more of that chocolate merengue thing. Totally safe.

Walking on the Sydney Harbour Bridge

Really? Walking over the bridge? Who does that?

 

Day 2: Don’t judge me

Now before you get all judgey about Double Decker busses let me remind you that the best travel advice anyone has ever given me (which, of course, does not include that valuable piece of information about getting a travel visa to Australia), has been to take the Double Decker bus when visiting a city. Your tickets are generally good for 48 hours and you can get on and off at your leisure. Mostly, though, it gives you a good overview of the city, which is terrific news to me because I suck at reading a map.

Yes. I have no pride. I'm aboard the Double Decker bus in Sydney.

Yes. I have no pride. I’m aboard the Double Decker bus in Sydney.

Had we not taken the Double Decker bus we wouldn’t have stumbled upon the most gorgeous shopping mall on the planet: The Queen Victoria Building, a.k.a. QVB. (Why? Because clearly I hadn’t read my travel guide before I went and would have missed it altogether.) So here we hopped off the bus.

Besides the idea of shopping, I was drooling over the Victorian Romanesque style and all the stained glass windows and the light, bright interior. Didn’t buy anything, though. I mean, look at me in the picture above. I didn’t look so approachable. I looked more like I was getting ready to go camping, so I kept a low profile. Everyone else seemed much more fancy than I, which is generally the case when I travel. I’m not a fancy traveler.

The beautiful glass dome at the Queen Victoria Building. I think I hurt my neck because I was looking up at it so much.

The beautiful glass dome at the Queen Victoria Building. I think I hurt my neck because I was looking up at it so much.

The QVB otally looks like a museum and not a shopping mall.

The QVB totally looks like a museum and not a shopping mall.

Shops at the QVB. See, kinda fancy.

Shops at the QVB. See, kinda fancy.

I also noticed the signs around Sydney. Some had a certain poetic wit about them…

I love rhymes.

I love rhymes.

While others seemed just a bit judgey…

What did heels and stilettos ever do to them?

What did heels and stilettos ever do to them?

 

Day 3: Manly and Darling

Since I was reading my guide as we go I noticed there were several mentions of Manly Beach, so we took the ferry, which was so convenient since the ferries were only a short walk from where we were staying. (See? Our lodging location at The Rocks was totally the best place to stay.)

I loved Manly Beach. Having grown up in Oregon my family always took trips to the beach and I fell in love with the constant rhythm of the waves coming in. So here I was in the Southern Hemisphere and the waves were doing the same thing. There were also new birds for me to see and I knew husband, Steve, would be envious.

Yeah, I could totally do that. Show off.

Yeah, I could totally do that. Show off.

Mom totally chilling at Manly Beach.

Mom totally chilling at Manly Beach.

After our jaunt to Manly Beach we headed over to Darling Harbour and watched the Hubble movie in 3D on the IMAX screen, wandered around the shops, loaded up on chocolates at the Lindt chocolate store (natch) and had a very nice dinner at a lovely restaurant called Ice Cube, though they brought the shrimp out with eyes and everything. New country, new experiences, no?

Now I know why it's nice to have your shrimp all prepped for you before they bring it out to your table. It was a teaching moment.

Now I know why it’s nice to have your shrimp all prepped for you before they bring it out to your table. It was a teaching moment.

Trying to darling.

Trying to look darling. (Oh yeah, and see that bag of Lindt chocolates? Not sure how many actually made it home.)

 Day 4: Field trip

Any number of tour companies will offer you a day trip to the Blue Mountains. We chose basically by looking at brochures to see which one didn’t make us get up too crazy early and would get us back in time so we could visit The Rocks Cafe and stuff more of the chocolate merengue torte into our mouths.

On the way to the mountains we stopped at a zoo and saw Australian wildlife, including this cute fella:

Koala Bear

Awfully cute, but I think those claws of his are kind of scary.

And then we stopped at some random park where a fella attempted to teach us how to throw a boomerang, but neither my mom nor I could do it. It’s actually harder than you think, and since neither of us are very athletic we completely failed at it. There was a nine-year-old who did it, though. Show off.

Aww, a rainbow at Wentworth Falls in the Blue Mountains.

Aww, a rainbow at Wentworth Falls in the Blue Mountains.

 

Day 5: Zoo

Last day and we actually had no idea what to do. Yeah, really. We’re in Sydney and mom isn’t really much of a museum person and I wasn’t really wanting to make this a shopping vacation, so we got on a ferry and headed over to the Taronga Zoo.

Aww, how cute! Giraffes with Sydney skyline in the background.

Aww, how cute! Giraffes with Sydney skyline in the background. (Yeah, I know. Giraffes aren’t Australian.)

There's nothing Australian here. Just a couple of cute Meerkats.

There’s nothing Australian here. Just a couple of cute Meerkats.

The best view of the Sydney skyline is from Taronga Zoo. Totally.

The best view of the Sydney skyline is from Taronga Zoo. Totally.

And then when we got back to The Rocks neighborhood that evening we had some more of that chocolate merengue torte. Duh.

Don't judge.

Chocolate merengue crack.

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

That time when everyone else but me knew that you need a travel visa for Australia

27 Sunday Oct 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Trips

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Australia, travel, travel visa, vacation

“You have a visa, right?” the Delta ticket counter lady asked me.

“Like in the credit card?” I thought that was weird because I had already paid for my ticket. “Is there another fee?”

“No,” she said, realizing I was confused. “A travel visa.”

Her words punched me in the stomach and I couldn’t breathe and I know my eyes got big as I started to say, “I need a travel visa to go to…?” Ticket counter lady cut me off and explained, “You can get one right now. You’re lucky because Australia is the only country where you can get a visa within minutes and on the Internet.”

“But my plane leaves in two hours. No one told me I needed a visa.”

Clearly I hadn’t been listening to what she was telling me, so she repeated herself. “Really, all you need is the Internet and you can get a visa and then you give me the number. You have plenty of time.” She wrote down the web address on a little square paper and then I dragged my bags and myself away from the counter, crestfallen with tears welling up in my eyes, and plopped myself down on a bench near the window. I called Steve who had just dropped me off at the airport and told him of my stupidity and asked him if he could hurry up and get home and log on to the computer to help me out. He would be there in about 20 minutes.

Look, I’m a pretty savvy traveler. I’m not new to this, but how could I miss such a vital piece of information? I guess I thought because I was visiting a country under the British Crown that it would be like the others I’ve been to—namely Canada and the U.K.—where, I might point out, I didn’t need a travel visa. Those countries never wanted to strip search me to get into their country. Why is Australia being so fussy? (I’d also like to blame all others who have been to Australia before who I talked to prior to my trip and never thought to mention this pretty important piece of intel.) It didn’t matter what I thought. I was the travel dork here.

Stupidity notwithstanding, I was a bit panicked. I was meeting my mom in Sydney and our flights were arriving around the same time. She had spent the last 18 months in Melbourne on a volunteer mission for our church and she didn’t have a cell phone. There would be no way to reach her to tell her I wasn’t coming and I was imagining her wandering around the airport in Sydney for hours trying to find me and then having to get to a phone somehow to call back to the U.S. to find out what in Sam Hill happened. I sat there and stewed for about 2 minutes, feeling sorry for myself, worried that I wouldn’t be able to pull this rabbit out of a hat, despite what the confident ticket counter lady told me. But then it hit me—I have an iPhone! I found the web address on my phone, tapped in my personal information in the little boxes, paid only $20 with a credit card, and voila! I had a travel visa!

Because why not? People can become a wedding officiant by clicking a few boxes and putting in their personal info on the Internet, so why wouldn’t one be able to get a travel visa too? Yeah, makes total sense.

I walked over to the ticket counter again and showed the ticket lady my phone with the visa number and she punched the numbers into her computer and, just like that, I was on my way to Australia.

Now I’m feeling like a super hero because it was so easy peasy. Really, what’s the point? If getting a visa is that easy, why require it at all? But hey, I was just glad that I had a smart phone with me and I was certainly glad Australia let me into their country.

I called Steve, overjoyed not only by my new visa to Australia, but by my cleverness in doing it all on my iPhone. I checked my travel guide when I settled in my seat on the plane and it seems as though it did say something in there about getting a travel visa.

Next time I’ll read the travel guide more closely before I leave on my trip.

Lisa at the Sydney Opera House

Hey look, guys! I made it!

0.000000 0.000000

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

How to learn about your husband

22 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Trips

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Ashbury College, Canada, Gatineau Park, Kingston, Ontario, Ottawa, Parliament, RMC, Royal Military College, Toronto, travel

Flipping back the pages in the Book of Steve is fascinating.

We had this epic long distance courtship for two years and while we spent that time trying to really get to know each other (mostly finding out that he hates crowds, is not a picky eater, doesn’t stress out over things he can’t control and, of course, is a avid birder), I really didn’t know that much about where he grew up. Sure, I met his family a couple of times while we dated, but that didn’t reveal too much to me. You see, I grew up a West Coast gal and Steve grew up on the East Coast. Not only that, he’s Canadian and I’m from the U.S.

See? Way different. So, when I learned I had a conference in Toronto Steve suggested we visit places in Ontario so he could show me around, which was a great idea because who was this guy I’d been married to for five years?

Let’s start with church

Now, I always love visiting the Anglican Church he attended when he was a child. (It makes my mother-in-law very happy too, when we visit.) Steve gave me his own tour of the Forest Hill neighborhood church and showed me the places where he would hide and eventually get into trouble. What I learned about my husband: He was a normal mischievous boy.

Grace Church-on-the-Hill Forest Hill neighborhood in Toronto. Founded 1874.

Grace Church-on-the-Hill Forest Hill neighborhood in Toronto. Founded 1874. Instagram

Now let’s get political

For anyone getting an immersion into their husband’s Canadian life, head to the nation’s capital, which is what we did. We toured the Parliament buildings and even listened in on a session of Parliament, which aside from the occasional French, seemed awfully like a session of congress in the U.S. in that the left was arguing in favor of taxes on businesses and the right was vehemently opposed. What I learned about my husband was this: He likes to listen to the French interpretation on the headphones.

Parliament. Ottawa, Ontario Canada

Parliament. Ottawa, Ontario Canada Instagram

Time to eat

This part isn’t new. Both Steve and I love to eat. Ottawa is packed full of lots of fantastic restaurants and our first night there we stopped by an Ethiopian restaurant, which was highly recommended by our bed and breakfast hosts.  To be honest, I’ve always found the idea of Ethiopian restaurants odd because all during college all I heard about Ethiopia was that the people were starving. This can’t bode well for a restaurant idea, I thought.

But an Ethiopian restaurant fit perfectly with the theme of this trip: Steve is going to teach me something new. Even if it means eating with your hands. (I had to check around in the restaurant to make sure that everyone else was eating with their hands because, yes, it wouldn’t surprise me if Steve just made that whole thing up about how to eat Ethiopian food.)

And no, we didn’t starve here. The food was pretty fantastic and there was plenty of it. What I learned about Steve: He can’t complain anymore if there isn’t a clean utensil in the house.

Steve demonstrates with great effectiveness on how to eat Ethiopian food.

Steve demonstrates with great effectiveness on how to eat Ethiopian food. Instagram

My husband got sent to Boarding School

When I first met Steve he told me about how he went to boarding school when he was a kid. “Were you bad?” I asked.

“No, why do you ask that?” He really was puzzled.

“Because in the movies when the kids are bad they are always threatened by some adult that they’ll be sent to boarding school.” I explained. “Have you never seen The Sound of Music?”

Turns out Steve loved going to boarding school. Essentially they’re prep schools for über smart kids. What I learned about Steve: He’s über smart. (Okay, I already knew that.)

Ashbury College Ottawa

Ashbury College Ottawa

This is a really old boarding school. And as you can see, hockey has been around for awhile.

This is a really old boarding school. And as you can see, hockey has been around for awhile.

There’s a family cottage, natch.

Not only is there a family cottage but it’s in Gatineau Park and not in Ontario but (gasp) Quebec. I think. I couldn’t tell when we actually were in Quebec or in Ontario. I mean, there were French signs everywhere, but I never was clear on where the actual cottage was, except it looked like this:

View from the cottage at Gatineau Park.

View from the cottage at Gatineau Park.

The lake right outside the cottage.

The lake right outside the cottage.

So does it really matter which province? I didn’t think so either. What I learned about my husband here: He comes from a family of cottage owners so I need to stay on the good side of everyone.

Why I will always get the Royal Treatment

There’s a reason why Steve makes the bed with hospital corners, why he likes a list of things to do (he actually loves the Honey-do list, guys), and why he likes to watch war movies. It’s all because he went to the Royal Military College. That’s why he wore this uniform to our wedding:

Steve sports his RMC uniform at our wedding.

Doesn’t he look dapper? (It’s all so Downton Abby, doncha think?) He nearly upstaged me. Nearly.

Touring the campus of the Royal Military College in Kingston, Ontario was a real treat. We met up with his old college buddy who took us around some of the buildings. But most of all I remember the story he told about how the Canadian flag came about, which is not completely recorded on the plaque below and apparently involved a great deal of liquor. But don’t quote me on that. I’m not Canadian and I probably shouldn’t know that little bit of info.

IMG_3533

Part of the story about the Canadian flag.

Royal Military College, Kingston Ontario

Royal Military College, Kingston Ontario Instagram

Steve finds two great uncles listed on the Memorial Arch at RMC.

Steve finds two great uncles listed on the Memorial Arch at RMC. Instagram

What I learned about Steve here: This stop explained a lot about my husband. His long family legacy in the military and his love of country. Plus, he looks so damn good in that uniform for our wedding.

There’s no way to rewind a movie and playback all the events in Steve’s life, but walking in the shadows of where he once walked enables me to understand him a little bit more. It has given me perspective and understanding that no amount of conversation would have opened up for me.

And we’re going to be eating with our hands from now on. In uniform. In a cottage on a lake somewhere. Speaking French.

43.689388 -79.410390

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

See, taste and experience Otavalo Market

17 Saturday Aug 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

Cotacachi, Ecuador, Food, Otavalo Market, panama hats, photography, Quito, textiles, travel, vacation

Mom and baby at Otavalo

Though our trip to Ecuador was all about birding, every guide book (yes, I still read those) and online resource indicated that the Otavalo Market in the indigenous town of Otavalo was a must-see. So after two weeks of chasing birds it was time to relax (birding is exhausting!) and just take in some of the culture. And do some shopping (natch). It’s only a two-hour drive from Quito and if you drive 15 minutes further you can also visit the town of Cotacachi, which is famous for its leather goods.

What you will see

You will see Panama hats. “What?” you ask. “In Ecuador?” Yep. In fact, they are made in Ecuador, not Panama. So now that you know, this little piece of knowledge could potentially make you the smartest person at a dinner party should the subject of Panama hats come up. (Oh, and by the way, Cuenca, I hear is the best place to find the finest made. More bonus points for dinner party conversation.)

IMG_3330

They’re made in Ecuador. Now you know.

You will see electric colors all around you. Expect happy, happy colors on all of the tables. How can you not be happy? They are woven in the wool cloth, strung as beads and painted as smiling masks all laid out on a table as though a crowd of jesters are laughing along with you. If you have the time, make sure you do a quick walk-through of the tables first before you begin buying/negotiating. There is a lot to see and happening upon all that color is a lot to take in at first. You might miss something the first time around.

Alone, each might be a little scary, but all together it's like a friendly choir. Almost.

Alone, each might be a little scary, but all together it’s like a friendly choir. Almost.

I'll take one of each, please.

I’ll take one of each, please.

DSC_0363

The indigenous women of Otavalo wear these beads–one for every child they have. Young girls wear the tiny beads you see in the back.

What the Otavalo people are known for: their beautiful, bright woven woolen fabric.

What the Otavalo people are known for: their beautiful, bright woven woolen fabric.

What you can taste

You should eat. Really. Because there’s a lot of food. If you’re not in the mood to buy a Panama hat or buy something colorful you definitely should try the food. You can either hand-pick fruits and vegetables from the tables for purchase or buy a quick meal.

DSC_0369

Panella, a type of brown sugar (In Asia it’s also known as jagery)

DSC_0373

Penino dulce, which is a sweet cucumber

DSC_0372

Achotillo or Lychee

DSC_0368

I also had never seen so many grains and flours before.

You will likely run into my all-time favorite tomato on the planet. My favorite is the Tomates del arbol, also known as sweet tomatoes. It’s what we had as juice on our first morning in Ecuador, served as a salsa over chicken at a restaurant and when we were Tandayapa Lodge, the cook served it as dessert–baked with a sugar sauce. I think I’ve dreamed every night of that dessert since I’ve been back.

DSC_0371

Tomates del arbol–one of my favorite discoveries in Ecuador

You will be able to try a traditional Ecuadorian dish. Best of all, is the Hornado and Llapingachos, a traditional Ecuadorian dish in this region. The aroma of this dish is what makes the market so wonderful. I didn’t get dizzy from all the colors, but from the food.

The meat the lady has in her hands in the hornado (roasted pork). The small yellow balls are mashed potatoes that are the Llapingachos.

The meat the lady has in her hands in the hornado (roasted pork). The small yellow balls are mashed potatoes that are the Llapingachos.

If you don’t believe me that this dish is important, here’s proof. In a nearby town there’s a monument in honor of the dish.

A monument celebrating food. I tell ya, there's not enough of them.

A monument celebrating food. I tell ya, there’s not enough of them.

What you will experience

Yes, there’s colorful things to buy. Yes, there’s loads of food to taste. But even if you do none of those (buy, eat), go to Otavalo market just for the experience and for the people watching.

You can practice your negotiation skills. Steve, who was being a great husband by coming along (did he have a choice?) hates shopping and browsing. Plus, too much stimuli makes him dizzy, but he was a trooper and even though he swore he wasn’t going to buy anything, an enterprising man with leather belts was persistent with Steve. Enterprising man won and Steve walked away with a new belt. (Can a man have too many belts? I say no. It’s my same argument with shoes.)

DSC_0388

I think Steve is trying to get him down to $8.

You can also join a local game of…I don’t know what. We happened to see a group of men huddled over and yelling and cheering. I got a look at what they were doing and a man said, “Casino! Want to play?” I thanked him kindly for his offer. I so would lose my shirt.

Casino!

Casino!

A tip you should know

When I had booked our Andes birding adventure with Tropical Birding I asked them if they could also arrange for us a guide for Otavalo Market, and they hooked us up with the most delightful woman, Desiree, from their office who was full of so much history and knowledge about the area. Most people don’t think to ask the tour company to arrange other activities for them, but you should.  Of course, you can easily get to Otavalo on your own. Even though it’s only a two-hour drive from Quito, we like private guides who give us so much more information about the area. Besides, Desiree was so completely wonderful and engaging I can’t imagine having done the trip without her.

Tropical Birding not only helped us arrange our guide, Desiree, but also arranged a private guide for us when we had a day in Quito and also helped us book our week at Sacha Lodge. It was so much easier working with boots-on-the-ground people in the country who know much more about who to contact and how to make the arrangements, because my Spanish is crummy and if I tried to do it myself I’m certain we’d end up in some other country.

Otavalo Market

I have not been paid or compensated for anything on this trip. My gushing is authentic and genuine and on my own dime.

0.233333 -78.266667

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

Pressures of Ecuador

12 Monday Aug 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Amazon, Andes, birding, birds, Ecuador, hiking, Napo River, nature, outdoors, South America, travel, vacation, Wildlife

The following post is from my other blog The Accidental Birder. I finally gathered enough courage to write it. I’ve included the intro here and to continue reading it, jump over to the Accidental Birder blog by clicking “read the whole story” at the end of the intro.

Act 1: The pressure to keep up

Muddy boots in Ecuador

It was 5:00 a.m. and the rain, warm as bathwater, was coming down hard and in giant drops. Thud, thud, thud, on my head, my shoulders, my arms, my back. The drops looked huge in the light emanating from my headlamp. Our group, in single file, walked on the slippery boardwalk over the swamp—a swamp full of anaconda, caiman and piranha.

The unimaginable entered my mind: Right now I’d rather be back at the office doing Powerpoint. No, it didn’t enter my mind. I heard the words come out of my mouth. 

Right now I’d rather be back at the office doing Powerpoint.

Who says that? Like, ever?

The rush was necessary but I was failing everyone around me, making the awful journey slower and more arduous than it needed to be. This death march over the swamp would lead us to a boat ramp. We would take a motorized canoe on the Napo River to clay licks where we would see possibly hundreds of parrots and parakeets. But we had to hurry. Parrots and parakeets wouldn’t wait for slow pokes.

Read the whole story.

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

A July wrap up.

31 Wednesday Jul 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Alberta, blogging, Calgary, dinosaur museum in drumheller, injury, Multnomah Falls, Oregon, road trip, rotator cuff, royal tyrell, travel, Utah

Aaaaaaand, I’m back.

Yeah, it’s been a month since you’ve heard from me. So sorry about that. But I have a great reason. This:

Bad shoulder.

I injured my rotator cuff as a result of going to the gym. See? Nothing good can come from being fit. Anyway, I had to cool it on the blogging at night. The only typing on my laptop I managed to do was for my day job. The rest of the time? I was doing physical therapy. And traveling for work. And spending long days in meetings.

But I did manage to get out. For instance, I traveled to Orlando for work and stayed at the Peabody Hotel where they have resident ducks, which is cool because you know I love ducks. Birders like ducks and it’s even better when they are at your hotel walking on a red carpet.

Peabody Ducks Orlando

And they’re carved out of soap.

Peabody ducks soap

But more impressive than the ducks was the super cool television in the bathroom mirror.

TV in mirror

Yes, I’m also charitable. Really.

My monthly rendezvous with Steve was in Calgary where I was convinced I could stay away from Tim Hortons this time, but when I saw that they were selling charity doughnuts (all proceeds going to help Calgary flood victims), the benevolent side of me said I had to help out. It’s for chaaarity, guys!Alberta Rose Donut

After our extraordinary charitable efforts we geeked out at the Royal Tyrell Dinosaur Museum in Drumheller, Alberta, which is kind of in the middle of nowhere.

Royal Tyrell Museum in Drumheller, AB

And then there was a road trip

Once upon a time, right before I got married my mom lived with me for a couple of years. She’s a pretty good roommate and she’s fun to go to movies with. Plus, she generally has a stash of candy somewhere in the house and I always find out where it is. Since Steve lives in another country and I have no candy around I thought it would be a good idea to invite mom to come back to be my roommate. So, I flew to Portland and she picked me up at the airport and we drove to Utah in two days, stopping at Multnomah Falls and as we entered Utah I learned that Utah really is Life Elevated. Or at least the sign is.

Multnomah Falls IMG_3747

Looking to August

After my month-long sabbatical from blogging (combined with some grueling physical therapy) I’m ready to get back on the wagon with the blogging and I have another couple of adventures in Calgary planned. And in September you can look forward to my mom and I tearing it up in Las Vegas.

40.760780 -111.891050

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...

Letter to my readers: Some people at TBEX taught me about writing. The good kind.

16 Sunday Jun 2013

Posted by Ms. Boice in Uncategorized

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

birding, birds, blogging, global birding, TBEX, Toronto, travel, writing

There's not room for two big egos in this photo.

There’s not room for two big egos in this photo. (Instagram)

Dear Readers,

I started this blog almost two years ago because I wanted to practice writing and get good at it. I didn’t mean for it to turn into a travel/food/my falling in love with my long-distance suitor stories/sometimes rant blog. Some of you are my family and friends and even coworkers who either felt pressured to subscribe or had a real sincere desire to find out what makes me tick. Some of you also follow my other blog The Accidental Birder because, frankly, you probably got tired of my pestering you to follow my badass birding adventures around the globe. To you, I apologize for the abhorrent writing you’ve had to face and the random and inconsistent posts.

Sometimes I vomit out too many adverbs on a page. And other times, I’ve hit “publish” and then gone back three times (at least) to clean up the mess. I know that, and the first step in overcoming any problem is admitting it. The second step, I’m certain, is to go to a conference for bloggers to get some rehab, which happened to be TBEX (Travel Bloggers Exchange).

When people and speakers think you’re weird. And that’s okay.

I was over the moon on my first day at TBEX. It began wonderfully with the writing workshop, led by Pam Mandel, Andy Murdock and David Farley. We broke into small groups of about 12 people and I got a chance to read part of one of my Accidental Birder posts. The look on David Farley’s face when I explained that I’m a global birder was priceless. You know that look someone gives you when they’re not sure you said what you said? Like you were speaking in tongues? I got that look. Turns out I got a lot of those weird looks all weekend. Yes, y’all. Looking at birds around the world. It’s a thing.

Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.

Pam Mandel, David Farley and Andy Murdock help us not suck as much at writing.

Pam Mandel, David Farley and Andy Murdock help us not suck at writing.

My second small group session during the workshop was with Pam Mandel and we didn’t really workshop anyone’s writing, but rather workshopped ideas and challenges. I received sage advice on how I might tackle my latest adventure in Ecuador where it didn’t exactly turn out so awesome. You, my dear reader, don’t know that yet—the part about Ecuador not being so awesome—because I haven’t had the nerve to write it. I’ve only shown you super fun stuff like the custom-made red boots I got in Quito.

If there was one thing that impressed me most, it was the genuine advice and feedback I received at this workshop and in their follow ups with me. These are the connections that are the most meaningful at a conference like TBEX. I only wish this could have been an all-day workshop.

When people are surprised you don’t make money at this. That’s okay too.

The other workshop I attended was the Instagram walking tour with Katja Presnal. As we were walking around Toronto in the crazy heat and humidity I was having a nice chat with a woman about my Accidental Birder blog when she asked, “So how do you make money at that?”

“Uh, I don’t.”

I thought everyone did this for the love of writing and have regular careers and never have a tidy home.

It wouldn’t be the last time someone would ask me about the business side of my blog. And guess what—there is no business side of either of my blogs.

So, it turns out there were Monetizing sessions at TBEX. I thought that was another conference. (No, not really, but it kinda felt like it.)

Meanwhile, back on the walking tour….

Apparently, reading small print like, “It’s a walking tour so wear comfortable shoes,” got lost on me. Also, rules like “keep up with the group” seem to be important. I got turned around and separated from the group so I walked back to the hotel and noticed that the CN Tower had been stalking me.

IMG_3569

CN Tower is totally stalking me. [Enter creepy music.]

This is how old people party. Or not.

So readers, I hate to report that I didn’t go to any of the parties. Instead I spent the evenings with Steve, the husband, because we’re that weird couple where each lives in a different country. Toronto was a rendezvous point and to be honest, I’m just kind of too old for those parties. But I heard they were really fun.

Did someone lose her shoe? That must have been some party the night before.

Parties so fun that someone lost her shoe. That must have been some party! (Instagram)

I should have been tormenting you differently

Back at the Toronto convention center ranch of 1300 bloggers I stuck to the content track at TBEX, which gave me really good tips and direction to improve my writing, photography, content development, and to be quite honest, make it easier for you to follow along. I even learned, ala Mike Sowden, how to torment you and make you want to read my blogs to the end. I have no idea if you finish reading any of what I’m posting. I’m lucky if I get three comments and I’m assuming those people have read to the end. I think I’ve been tormenting you all along, but not in the way Mike suggests. Sorry about all the bad writing tormenting. (<–See? even this sentence is bad. Ugh.)

See anything good?

I also met some lovely people, one of whom happened to be another birder, Laura Kammermeier of Nature Travel Network. On the first day we had lunch with my husband (the real birder) where we shared stories and adventures. Laura’s insights on the difficulty in networking were spot on when she said:

I don’t know how to break into this group here at TBEX. In the birder world you just go up and say, ‘See anything good?’ and that starts the conversation. Here? I don’t know.

Yeah, I couldn’t figure it out either. Gosh, 1300 attendees is a lot of people and kind of difficult to connect. But there was a really cool sculpture of birds right outside the convention center. Thanks Toronto, that was a swell welcome for us two birders. Made us feel kind of special. And smart because everyone else was calling them just woodpeckers. But we birders were geeking out about it and, of course. knew what species they really were.

In case you didn't know, that there is a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

In case you didn’t know, that there is a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (the other one was the Pileated Woodpecker). You totally want to party with me, right?

IMG_3615

By the way, there was a GOB of construction going on in Toronto. (Instagram)

A cheap date. (Not in the sense that she’s a trashy girl.)

Did TBEX meet all my expectations? Kind of. But it was sort of a cheap date and I got what I paid for. I bought my conference ticket ûber early and paid under $100 for it. I maybe passed out seven of my cards with my blog info because they were people I genuinely wanted to connect with. I didn’t speed date. I don’t even know what the Marketplace thing was. And as I mentioned above, I didn’t do the parties. Or the after parties. I just stayed the course with the content track and felt like I took advantage of 1/5 of the conference, which was okay. TBEX was a cheap date and that’s fine. If I want more out of a conference I will need to invest a little more for that. I don’t need all the other stuff the sponsors were paying for—the parties and the monetization breakouts. Not saying they’re bad, but it just wasn’t my focus.

I took pages and pages of notes, so I know I learned a great deal. Most importantly, I learned to not just slap up crap on my blog just to stay consistent. It’s more important to really work through a piece, edit, sleep on it, and edit some more. So that means I may not post something weekly. It just might even be once a month. I don’t know yet. I liked working in a rhythm, but I was only making incremental improvements in writing, not monumental steps.

You see, it’s about you, not me. That’s a tough thing to learn and rather counterintuitive to personal blogging if you think about it. Blogging started about me, but if this is going to be about engagement I have to respect your time as well and give you something for your time, like something interesting to read. Or something you learn. Or at least one embarrassing photo of me.

And then I’m sure you’ll always finish my posts to the end.

Warmest regards,

Lisa

Share this:

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Reddit
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Print

Like this:

Like Loading...
← Older posts
Newer posts →

You give me your email address and I send you an email when there's a new post. Easy peasy.

Join 1,308 other subscribers

The Accidental Birder

Follow my birding-around-the-world adventures on The Accidental Birder blog

My most recent stuff

  • When in Isla Contadora
  • I turned 50 and this is how it went
  • Keeping Big Bend a secret
  • What Marfa can teach us
  • Confronting the enemy
  • Purging time capsules
  • The technicolor world of Bisbee, Arizona
  • Thank you, Utah.

Accidental Tweeter

  • A chorus of chainsaws this morning. #texasicestorm #icestorm 3 days ago
  • As I hear all the tree branches breaking off on our property, this little Orange-crowned Warbler cheered me up. We… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 4 days ago
  • The shepherd’s hook holding the bird feeder took quite a hit. #TexasFreeze #icestorm https://t.co/NZfHItELh4 4 days ago
Follow @MsBoice

Older stuff (archives)

Ms. Boice

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • The baby aspirin years
    • Join 619 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • The baby aspirin years
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d bloggers like this: