Globe Trotting

Living by the words of Henry Miller, “One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things,” I continue to seek for new journeys and places to find new perspectives on life.

San Blas Islands | Travel Back to Panama Past

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
San-Blas-Islands-Panama
San Blas Islands, Panama

Juxtaposition can be quite humbling. I was slightly surprised by our half day stop in the San Blas Islands, located just a few miles off of the Caribbean cost of Panama, since it wasn’t on my radar originally. The day started a bit slow, and I was resting in the room when my new ship friends, Steve and Traci, called to tell me to take a look out my window. When I did, I saw two wooden canoes with little boys in each one, begging for money then diving into the water after coins that fellow shipmates tossed overboard. It was a sight unlike any I have ever seen before.

Kuna Indians Diving for Dollars

Kuna Indians Diving for Dollars

We went to the top of the ship to see more of the surrounding scenery and found the number of native boats multiplied and the families that were in them were all calling out “mOney, mOney” from below us. The backdrop had pieces of land sprouting up from the water, most of which could not have been more than a mile long. From afar I would not have guessed that people lived on these small islands, but I soon found out that they were in fact the home of the Kuna Indians.

The tenures took us to one of the small floating masses and as we approached I realized that there were small huts with walls made from sticks and roofs of brown palms. Some were covered by scrap metal and others had simple cloth material for walls. We stepped off of the boat and instantly walked through an isle of children and families calling out the familiar “dOllar, dOllar” in hopes to sell various hand crafted goods. Everything they could offer was presented, from hand carved toy boats, to coloring pages held by toddlers, and most prominently, an array of brightly sewn tapestries called Molas, which the tribe is famed for.

Young Kuna Indian Girl

Young Kuna Indian Girl

The entire island was a marketplace offering variations of the same products. Children held tropical birds on their heads asking for “dOllar for picture,” and an old women held a monkey for the same sell (which of course I caved to). Steve, Traci and I walked up and down each hut crevice in the village and found a native man who was happy to take us on a tour of his home. I did not see a single bed, only hammocks hanging from walls, and what he called the kitchen was nothing more than a three walled cabin filled with sticks and hanging laundry. The women wore bright colored wraps and some withered faces were ornamented with piercings and paint.

Our Local Tour Guide

Our Local Tour Guide

The floors were either covered in dirt or simply made of it, both inside and outside the homes. “Ocean front” property became a whole new concept, shorelines littered with trash and debris. The only signs of modern technology were the oddly placed bright red satellite dishes that were mounted between huts. You almost wonder if it is more of a spectacle than a way of living, but I know that is not the case, just a few minor luxuries in an otherwise primitive world. The Kuna Indians have survived in these islands for hundreds of years and have had only glimpses of our comparatively wealthy lifestyle through often ignorant tourists. It is a blessing to be welcomed into their wold, for as strange as it may be, these seemingly far off tribes are in fact our not so distant worldly neighbors.

Reroute & Adapt | Santa Marta Colombia

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
Santa-Marta-Colombia
Santa Marta, Colombia

One of my favorite parts of traveling abroad is simply taking in the culture of the land. My trip to Colombia was an adventure that revolved around the country’s people. I have experienced various standards of living on a fair spectrum, from the shanties of the third world to the wealth and prosperity of some of the top nations, including my own. Santa Marta falls in the mid to low range, but has a unique beauty that any traveler can appreciate.

Colombia-Homes

Homes and Train Tracks

We set off in the morning with the intent on visiting Tayrona National Park. Excitement brewed for a day of hiking and exploring in hopes to capture snapshots of the famed wildlife and scenic views. We drove past a substantial cluster of impoverished homes, some made of scrap metal and sheets, while others had worn down concrete walls. There were piles of trash along the road and men riding in carts pulled by donkeys for transit. A young man in a soccer shirt casually stood in the window of a home with a bicycle  a few feet over resting against the colorful deteriorating walls of a neighboring house. Some may feel sorrow looking at this sight but for me there was an odd beauty to it. Although this may be seemingly unlivable to most, I admire these people that continue to build their lives and raise their families among what some may call rubble.

We drove through the city to reach the highway to take us to the park, yet were halted and were refused to advance any further. The guide informed us that there was a protest in the city and that the road was blocked with people and police force brought in to manage the crowd. I never was able to uncover the reason for the conflict, but gathered a minimal explanation that the people living in the Colombian hills outside of the main city called upon the mayor for not addressing expressed concerns. The politics are much different, just as the lifestyle is from my own, but the experience and perspective is valued.

Colombian Dancer Performing

Colombian Dancer Performing

Reroute and adapt. We took an immersion lesson by driving into the heart of the city where out our windows we saw a somewhat familiar view of vendors of all kinds selling their goods on the streets. In a general sense of comparison it reminded me slightly of the border town of Tijuana, Mexico, mixed with the familiar Los Angeles fashion district. We passed by a soccer stadium with a large commemorative statue that clearly showed the passion that lives in the hearts of fans that follow the popular sport. We were able to make a quick stop in a commercial square where the Basilica Santa Marta stood proudly with its bright white facade nearly shining against the colors of the surrounding buildings. The interior was very traditional with white marble and carved statues standing tall which gave me a comfortable, peaceful feeling. Outside the architecture of a few structures seemed to be influenced by its European roots which gave the city a blended personality that nearly transported my memories back to my time in Spain.

We traveled on through the hills, down to a resort area that served as our consolation for missing the original excursion destination. The mountains seemed to be made of emeralds for as far as you could see and I found it particularly fascinating to see cacti spurting up from the ground. I never imagined I would find a plant that I have only seen in arid climates nestled in such a tropical setting. They covered the slopes for as far as the vista reached.

We spent the remainder of our time at the Irotama Hotel where we watched a folkloric show featuring traditional dancers and musicians.Whether it was fabricated or true to the country’s culture, the women’s costumes were bright and full, and the steps themselves were smooth and elegant. There were a few startled faces among the older onlookers when the women did hand stands as they straddled the guys who drummed on their buts, but of course I just sat back, laughed and enjoyed the show. Walking around the grounds, mom enjoyed the pool while I sat on a lounge chair noticing how unreal the experience turned out to be. I felt like I was being sheltered by a popular time share in our local Hawaiian Islands, not in an exotic land that I would most likely never return to again.

Colombia-Shore

Walking in Colombian Waters

We took moments to walk along the beach and dipped our feet into the warm murky water of the coast. I was surprised by the zero percent clarity, with the small waves that crashed on the shore resembling thick mud crashing to the ground, and the freight ships that littered the horizon gave it a very serious demeanor. We weren’t permitted to explore past the hotel boundaries, but of course the rebel that I am, I had to try. I casually walked toward town, hoping that I could sneak past without any guards stopping me. It soon became clear that there was no passing the invisible line when I came face-to-face with a fully armed man equipped with what looked to be a pretty heavy duty gun that I would only know to compare to an AK-47. You didn’t need to know the native language to get the hint.

Driving back to the ship, the guide pointed out a few significant landmarks and spoke of the strong military presence that seemed to be a constant in the port city. Although it was a scenic drive through the hillsides, I couldn’t help but feel constricted in some way during the experience. Colombia has its own charm that is unique to its strong willed residents. This particular portion of the trip reminds me that plans may change, roads may be detoured by when you open your eyes, the benefits of adapting can serve as a powerful point of view.

Half Moon Cay | Touring The Private Getaway In The Bahamas

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
Half-Moon-Cay-Bahamas
Half Moon Cay, Bahamas (Photo Cred: Stephen Brown)

A true vacation is a retreat. A period of sustained isolation from the madness of life. It is my first time in almost two years that I have ventured beyond national borders, far too long to be separated from my love of world exploration.

We departed Fort Lauderdale’s Everglades Port on the Rotterdam Ship of Holland America Cruise lines in the evening. I could not help but think of my father who grew up in the Dutch down that the vessel commemorates. Bad wife and daughter! We left him not only for the all-American holiday of Thanksgiving as well as his birthday. We will miss him greatly, and I know he shares my dream of visiting Machu Picchu in the mountains of Peru, a destination that will serve as our grand finale.

Our first stop was Half Moon Cay, although the familiarized seem to pronounce it “key,” which is a private resort owned by the cruise line on Little San Salvador Island. It is located less than 100 miles southeast of the popular city of Nassau, between Cat Island and Eleuthera. I found that it looked almost exactly like the hundreds of pictures of the Bahamas. It was as if I landed in the middle of a Corona commercial when I saw the powder white sands and turquoise blue water, our country’s staple image of paradise. The island itself was tiny, yet ideal for our one day excursion ashore. Small enough to feel secluded, while not giving off the sometimes overwhelming feeling of rushing to see everything possible in a limited time frame.

Horseback Riding in Half Moon Cay

Horseback Riding in Half Moon Cay

One of my goals for the trip was fulfilled early when I visited the stables to go horseback riding by land and sea. My land horse was named Mutt, he was a beautifully gentle, dark brown steed that seemed to like his hooves in the water as we rode along the shore. We trotted to the highest point on the island, which could not have been more than 50 feet or so, that gave us a nice view of the resort. After changing our horses for a water adventure, we galloped through the crystal ocean so that only the arch of their back and heads were above water. I was immersed from the waist down as we splashed along in unison, with the lush tropics of palms on one side and the ocean as far as you could see on the other.

We had two land events booked but unfortunately the second, snorkeling by boat, was cancelled because the tide was a bit rough to manage. You could not tell by the weather though, it was everything you would imagine for a trip to the isles, around 75 degrees, clear blue skies with the fluffy accent of a few scattered clouds on the horizon. Our ship was a perfect backdrop to the scenery, sitting like an ornament on the sea. Although it would have been great to explore beneath the surface, I was not all that upset since I got my ride in, rested on the beach, swam in the gorgeous water and truly spent my time exactly as I had imagined it, retreating from the world.

Destination Reflection: New Mexico

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
New Mexico, National Parks (Photos By Lindsay Amanda)

Symbols of the Southwest are draped all around the state of New Mexico. To me, it was a frontier, barely explored in my worldly explorations. We landed in Albuquerque, a city that did not leave any lasting impressions. It was a basic driving day with the big event of passing through Roswell, giving me the opportunity to visit the famed International UFO Museum and Research Center. As much as I adored the TV show in junior high, I never imagined I would ever see it live! It was definitely a novelty to check mark off the list.

The next two days fulfilled a few destination dreams of mine. We stayed the night in Carlsbad in anticipation of a long day underground at daybreak. I had always wanted to see the caverns to pay tribute to my grandpa who helped build the roads for visitors like me to walk in the crevices and spacious rooms. He created the pathways when he was very young as a member of the Civilian Conservation Corps. They are the same foot trails that I walk on nearly a century later.

Because I love history and knowing that I am a legacy of a great worker, I want to take a break from this story to mention a little about the CCC. It was introduced by President Teddy Roosevelt and was one of the most popular programs of his New Deal in attempts to revive America from the Great Depression. The Corps enlisted single men, ages 17-25, and paid them a mere $30 a month, $25 of which would go to ensuring their parents survival during the difficult time. I am proud to know that my grandpa’s contributions to the world, both in his natural efforts as well as in his national services in WWII.

The Carlsbad Caverns was a new territory that I ventured into with open eyes and an open heart. We decided the large natural entrance was the way to go as we ventured into the depths of the cave. There were large fixtures scattered throughout the early steps that were grandiose, but not particularly extravagant. It was not until we reached the bottom that the ornaments blanketed the ceiling, floors and walls. From the finest soda straws and detailed fields of popcorn rock to the pure clarity of the mineral pools and the towering columns they stream from, it was a blessing to experience the raw, constant evolution in it all. It is a special thought to know that my lineage was represented in its presence and rugged beauty.

When I was in college, I took a class on National Parks and Monuments that showed me how “Magnificent” the world can be. Here is where I learned about a place of fantasy where bright white sand stretched for miles, restlessly sitting in the foothills of the San Andres Mountains. When I learned of the gypsum dunes, White Sands National Monument became such a romantic scene in my mind that I just had to find a way there one day. I finally did on my trip to New Mexico and I can say that it was spectacular. It looked like freshly fallen snow but was as dry as the desert where it lay. The day we arrived, there were wispy clouds on the horizon of a blue sky and it was hard to see where the textured landscape ended and the sky began. There were sporadically placed plants springing up and thriving in the desolate terrain, standing like beacons in the continuously transforming landscape.

Back on the road again, we sketched our map as we trucked on. In a quick decision we landed in a small antique town called Silver City, which was as close as we could get to the Gila Cliff Dwellings. We rested in a charming historic hotel before rising with the mission of reaching the ruins. We started to climb through the Gila Forest, but were stopped shortly up the narrow highway and were advise to turn back after a light snow gained momentum. I could not remember the last time I was caught in a comparable flurry of powdery dust.

That day continued on with further road trip challenges. We set forth to Santa Fe, our final tourist destination on the trip, and found ourselves again in a light blizzard as we drove up and over a different portion of the forest. Slowly but surely, and with the help of a few friendly snowplows, we made it through the danger. As frightening as it was at times to see the ice on the frozen pavement ahead and a sheer cliff to the side of us, it was a road less traveled and more rewarding than the longer, more mundane option of winding around the mountain. It was a memory made.

After the rocky road terrain, we finally made it to the icy, yet iconic, Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was told it was an artsy town and I found it to have an old American feeling that epitomized the southwest region. In almost every storefront bushels of chili peppers were found hanging from simple adobe facades. The colors of sand and crisp blue sky were both contrasting and complementing in the day, transforming in the night into a golden glow with fiery illuminations lighting up the darkness. The layers of white snow that sat on the ledges only enhanced city’s canvas by adding a touch of elegance.

Historic churches built the culture as they stood tall throughout the city. Their spirit flowed into Santa Fe’s inspirational air. It was the perfect place to ring in the New Year. We walked just a few blocks, what seemed to me a mile in -1 degree weather, from our quaint B&B to an American Indian owned restaurant that had a special meal bursting with flavors. We passed a few other withered towns that seemed to be out of an old cowboy movie on our way back to Albuquerque to close out the trip. After hundreds of miles of driving, the flight home was short and sweet, and I was quickly reminded me how diverse and simply pleasant the world outside of the OC can really be.

Destination Relfection: New Orleans

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
New Orleans (Photos by Lindsay Amanda)

New Orleans is one of the most culture-rich cities I have been to in a most unique way. The first thought that comes to mind of course is Mardi Gras, a lively, colorful, and to be quite honest, intoxicated scenes that many of us wish we could experience just once out of pure novelty. Despite only visiting this city on what some may call its “off season,” it definitely proved its spirit nonetheless.

My visit was a jet setter weekend trip of just three days. After a very long travel day I arrived at my hotel in the heart of the city in the wee hours of the morning the next day. As the financially conscious traveler that I am, of course I took the best route, a shuttle shared with the high tech college pack of our day, arriving for the same reason that I was privileged to be there, the 2010 Super Computing Conference. My dad’s company, Cenic, helped build the infrastructure for the event.

As my mom and I took advantage of the opportunity to visit this iconic destination, our first stop was a classic Louisiana swamp tour. It sure was far from anything I have ever seen before. Our guide was born and bred “No’lands” and lived in the swamp all of his life, “huntin gators,” and dually holding an endearing love for all of the animals that called the habitat “home.” We saw an array of its natural inhabitants, including alligators, one of the largest breeds of rodents in the world, raccoons and birds. The Spanish moss hung from the trees where the deepest corners of the swamp were lush with bright green duckweed coating the surface of the water. It was a peaceful and flourishing spectacle.

The following day I set off on my own, as I love to do when I travel, for a brief expedition before our next scheduled tour. No matter where I am in the world, I absolutely love to visit churches, and on my short three-day trip, I had the privilege of attending mass the Saint Louis Cathedral at the oldest Catholic cathedral in North America, overlooking Jackson Square. It was beautiful.

The homily had a funny start. I remember the priest welcome the church’s common visitors, then comment on how lovely it was to see such a great attendance, appreciated by the fact that the defending Super Bowl champs had a bye week that Sunday. As a devoted football fan, I had to take humor in the opening line. Although I was far from home, I found comfort knowing that I was part of a bigger family in my religious community. I must say it was a plus to have so many parts of my heart in one place, as it was also emblematic of the land’s previous Spanish rulers.

After thanking God for the opportunity to visit this enchanted city, I ran off to catch my next tour – the plantation homes of the Deep South. It was a day trip that took us an hour or so outside the city. Our first stop was the Laura Creole Plantation. It was quaint and spacious at the same time, holding an incredible amount of history that you could feel as you walked its grounds. It held centuries old artifacts that endured the most severe conditions. The house endured “hell and high water,” quite literally, after being renovated from a destructive fire some items lasted even through the harsh reality of hurricane Katrina. We saw the slave quarters, and the bell that beckoned their families from as far out as three miles away from the main home for simple daily meals. The fact that surprised me the most was that the shacks held families as recent as the 1970’s, far past the time when their freedom was given. It was truly incredible.

Our next plantation home was Oak Alley. Its main attraction for visitors was the majestic tunnel of live oak trees that framed the estate’s main entrance. In the past, the original owners could see the Mississippi river from their dining room in the forefront of their home. Since then, a levy has been built to block the rising water. Although less impressive for the amount of original pieces from its heyday that are still present, its charm is undeniable.

I am not your average tourist, who lives for the standardized itinerary, but I can say that I enjoyed the cliche historical routes on such fly-by trips. I did not neglect one of the main must-dos of New Orleans, I did walk the infamous Bourbon Street. I even had the famous hurricane at its origin, Pat O’Brein’s, it’s good thing I love whiskey! I strolled through the French Quarter both full nights of my trip, and can officially say that I have seen one of the most famed party capitals of the world. And yes, although I declined, I was asked to show my goodies for a string of cheap beads. I can officially check that one of my list.

The last day of my short adventure was spent cruising the Garden District and relishing in the Antebellum homes that lined the streets. We visited an old cemetery that was reminiscent of La Recoleta from my travels in Argentina. The crypts were less ornate and weathered more severely than those neighboring Evita’s grave, which made it was eerie yet peaceful in a strange way.

New Orleans has a spirit unlike many other cities that I’ve ventured into. Louisiana is the Deep South at its best, and the culture caries its heritage proudly. I am blessed to have experienced its mysticism and bright personality even for a short while.

Texas Travel | Austin and the Alamo

Posted on by Lindsay Racen
Austin, Texas, The Oasis at Lake Travis, The Alamo (Photos by Lindsay Amanda)


Many people know Austin, Texas as the city as “The Live Music Capital of the World.” As many may or may not know, I am a travel enthusiast and whether the experience is mainstream or happening on the outskirts of common expectations, I often find beauty in the simplest of moments.

 
I have been to significant landmarks and cities throughout the great state of Texas. I have family in Sugar Land, Dallas-Forth Worth, College Station, and have traveled to San Antonio when I was in high school for a national dance competition. It is fair to say I have a solid base knowledge of the land. Well I have never been to suburban Austin until this past visit.
 
I again visited San Antonio while my gracious hosts gave us a calming tourist walk through the historic little town. Quite honestly, I forgot what to expect from my first visit, so I took the trip as a brand new adventure. The Alamo is the sun of the city’s system. It holds the history and heritage of a proud southern, yet modern town. The River Walk is a colorful economic and social parade. The river had always been there, even in the times of the Alamo battle, but the citizens of San Antonio simply enhanced the geography with commerce. Preserving the natural lands and incorporating it into expansion is often the fundamental principle of residency to a land.
 
Some say they expected more when they visited, expected it to be grand, but let’s face it, we did ultimately lose the battle. Remembrance of the lost is one thing; nothing grand has ever come from forgetting the lessons of the past. However, moving forward is what our civilization does best, why not preserve what still stands while continuing on? The Alamo still stands, and no other building is permitted to cast a shadow on its grounds. That is the essence of remembrance, respect and renowned perseverance.
 
I adore being a quiet tourist, one that takes in the scenes and lifestyles of diverse locations. Becoming part of the flow, rather than standing out in the crowd. This particular trip it was easy to do because I was visiting a loved one’s dear family while finding my place in a new destination.
 
Sports to the south are like air to most of us, or at least they often are in Texas. They are integrated into the purpose of growing and living life. I was given the opportunity to be a part of this perspective, although if you know me at all, you know it is not hard for me to love being a spectator and fan. It is officially baseball season. A sport I had to learn to appreciate as my passion for athletics matured and continue to expand.
 
The tournaments I attended were not my brother’s common Little League games, but rather what we call “club teams” in Cali or “travel teams” rather. I was proud to be part of the cheering supporters of the Rough Riders at the ballpark scenery. I remember it being a bit different than when I was dragged to the Mission Viejo lake fields as a kid. I honestly don’t remember being this content and enjoying it as much as I did this time around. Possibly because you often take your family for granted, yet when you are welcomed into another’s, it is a uniquely special feeling.
 
We did of course have one more major regional experience that both native and touring visitors should never pass on the chance to see. We had dinner at The Oasis on the cliffs of Lake Travis. Originally set as a standard burger joint, this place has evolved into an elegant setting flared with fine Mexican cuisine. The grounds have become so popular that expanding renovations have already begun. Local artists come to share their goods, and the creative knick-knacks that decorate the grounds give the well-known restaurant a welcoming home.
 
One of my traveling tendencies is to veer toward water or living springs of one form or another. Watching daylight pass into dusk at the beautiful Oasis gave me, and I’m sure all in attendance, a sense of peace and romance. It is a substantially large restaurant with 3 plus levels of tables and entertainment. It is the stage setting of a great time, but in the perfect form of company it is truly priceless.
 
Another love affair I am guilty of is the appreciation of bold brick buildings. I have seen homes and places of business built with this rustic yet colorful design in such states as Colorado, Indiana, Washington D.C. and of course Texas. It is hard to explain why I find this architectural design to be so special to me, but it may have something to do with tradition and history.
 
If I could be so liberal as to imagine a Utopian and wholesome home village, it would be filled with the oranges and reds of a brick foundation, pinks and blues of blossoms, and softly lit oil lamps illuminating the streets. I have been told residents of these native brick towns find stucco to be a fascinating decor, but I find it boring and drab, which is of course another example of how we take what is given to us for granted. For those who haven’t experienced the wonders of the lone star state I wish you all the best memories yet to come!