Lately, I’ve been quite nostalgic about my travels, reminiscing as smells, sights, and sounds transport me back to a situation and place I experienced months or years ago.
It’s no enigma as to why my nostalgic mind is on overload (more than usual, I mean). Myself and so many others are nostalgic, grieving, for the way things once were in the pre-pandemic world. Memories, too, can be an escape from the grueling monotony of our current state.
And so it is that I find myself trailing off in thought on more frequent occasions when a sniff of the humid, post-rain morning triggers my memory of early wake up calls in the Amazon. One odorous recollection that leads to another: the fetid whiff of ocelot pee every time I neared their enclosure; the mildewy scent of a book that arrived like-new and left in the damp form of fragile, decaying pages; the musky, lactonic smell of gruel for the baby hormiguero.
Driving down the narrow, windy roads of the Taconic, I forget that I am headed toward upstate New York. Advertisement billboards are absent along this scenic drive, and the rolling hills lush with emergent emeralds resemble the passing jungle canopy of El Yunque National Rainforest. For a minute or two, I am remembering a jump into the waterfall that is hidden among the crowded trees. I am remembering the people I met only the day before at a hostel dinner gathering, the people that have become my traveling companions for the next 24 hours. I smile, and then a Nissan cuts me off and I remember it is just me in this car and my destination is not a Puerto Rican landmark.
Running through the hilly section of town I just recently discovered, broken-down houses sit nestled together. I pass their beaten doors and feel like I’m remembering something from somewhere from sometime. Did I write about these doors? The front door of one home beckons so close to the tapered sidewalk that the barking Yorkie inside sounds like he is right next to me. And then I hear the knob turn, hear a happy family now behind me as I continue my jog. They are speaking in a foreign tongue, and I remember. I remember now.
I am back in Portugal, lost but not worried as I meander, solo and map-less, a section of Porto that resembles my present running route. I am making assumptions; I am imagining; and I am surprised by what lies behind such battered doors.
I am nostalgic for my vagabond lifestyle, my nomadic wanderings, that–like so many things for all of us–have been squandered by a virus and its subsequent fallout. Cancelled trips only increase my yearning for adventure and exploration. I am–we are–trapped by a microscopic monster that is defining our now and shaping our future. But, I remind myself that, just like the sickening in my stomach when I first set foot on uncharted territory alone, this, too, won’t last forever.
A visit to Scotland will surely include a trip to a castle, or perhaps many castles. Scotland is home to hundreds of medieval structures, some still inhabited and maintained by generational families, others lying in ruins overlooking the colorful Highlands. Only a handful of castles are famous. Those are of course worth visiting, but trips to the lesser-known, hidden and hard-to-get-to castles can be equally, if not more, intriguing. Perhaps it’s the concealed location of the former that adds to their mysterious nature.
If you find yourself planning a trip to Scotland but want to stay off the tourist trail, don’t skip castles. Plenty of isolated architectural gems exist that will keep you free of the crowds.
Some of the castles can only be toured from the outside, while others offer guided, audio-assisted and self-led tours. Don’t forget to check out the gardens and trails! Spoil yourself with a cup of tea and a cranberry goat cheese sandwich in one of the castle cafes.
For those of you doing a fair amount of sight-seeing throughout Scotland’s historic districts, I recommend purchasing an Explorer Pass. You can choose one of two types depending on the length of your stay. It ended up saving me some pounds!
Edinburgh Castle
Undoubtedly the most famous castle in Scotland, this ancient landmark also lies in the capital. It is remarkable even from a distance, perched like a butterfly overlooking the city. Many of Edinburgh’s attractions are dog-eared as World Heritage sites and, not surprisingly, Edinburgh Castle is included in this list.
Craigievar Castle
Inland to the west of Aberdeen city, Craigievar Castle lies in Alford within Aberdeenshire. The 17th-century pink turreted castle with Baronial architecture is reminiscent of fairytales. Rumor has it the castle is the inspiration for the famed Disney castle.
Dunnottar Castle
Balancing in partial ruins atop a cliff on the North Sea, Dunnottar Castle is a gorgeous juxtaposition of an ancient man-made edifice and Mother Nature. Manicured gardens comb the crumbled stone structures. If you’re patient, you might be lucky enough to spot seals in the waters below. You can even follow a steep and rickety path to the shore for a closer, sea level glimpse. This 13th-century building sits on the Stonehaven peninsula.
Crathes Castle
With shapely topiary and popping colors, the gardens of Crathes Castle transport you into the story of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Another turreted castle, this 16th-century construction lies nearby the River Dee outside of Banchory, Aberdeenshire.
Drum Castle
In Drumoark near Banchory in Aberdeenshire, the inside of Drum Castle is exquisitely decorated along with a garden storage room showing the servants’ quarters. Original parts of the castle date back to the 13th century. Woodland trails surround the property for visitors to enjoy. When the garden is in bloom, it embraces a bright rainbow of colors including a section of historic roses.
Scotland is a beautiful country–one of my favorite destinations so far. Not only is the archictecture impressive but so is the landscape; add to that the delicious food and the friendly people and you can’t not fall in love with Scotland.
Making spätzle, or spaetzle in English, has become a Christmas tradition with the Venzel sisters due to our growing family with an Austrian brother-in-law. The dish is so special that you have to own a spaetzle maker to properly cook it. You can purchase one that resembles a cheese grater with a sliding attachment or you can go all out with the antique, ready-for-a-feast model like ours that transports you back to the old days of churning butter.
The classic spaetzle-maker cooking device. It fits nicely into a large pot!
This recipe is not vegan-friendly (it’s not even healthy, I won’t lie), so I have not been able to partake in the spaetzle consumption of late, but at least I can enjoy the festive, cultural cooking that surrounds the ordeal. And, apparently, vegan spaetzle recipes do exist, so fear thee not if you have a soft spot for German food but are committed to veganism.
In my cheese aficionado family, we sprinkle an assortment of grated cheeses (from parmesan to mozzarella) on top, maybe with a dash of parsley, and then put it in the smoker for added flavuh flav. It does kick butt this way, so if you have access to a smoker, go the whole ten yards.
Ingredients:
1 c all-purpose flour, 1/4 c milk, 2 eggs, 1/2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg, 2 Tbsp butter or vegan substitute, dash of pepper
Serves: 5 people
Directions:
Boil about 1 gallon of water in the biggest pot you can find.
Mix all the dough ingredients together.
For the cheese grater looking spaetzle maker: slide the dough through the slots over the boiling water, letting them plop right in. For the butter churning looking spaetzle maker: ladle one scoop of dough at a time into the spaetzle maker, turning quickly and rapidly. If you don’t move quickly, the dough will clump in the holes and clog your process. This spaetzle maker should fit comfortably over your large pot.
Using a spoon with a drain, scoop out the dumplings after the one ladle-full of dough has been pushed through the holes into the pot of boiling water. They should solidify almost instantly, and you should scoop them out quickly so they don’t overcook. You have to work fast here, people! It keeps things lively!
Transfer the dumplings to a large baking or serving dish.
Add toppings and maybe stick in the smoker for a couple hours.
Serve, eat, enjoy!
This recipe was modified from homemade concoctions and allrecipes.com.
Visiting Burggrabenklamm, Salzburg in the winter. A short but treacherous hike that has been made more accessible as of Spring 2015.
The next time you find yourself frolicking the Austrian countryside, come summer or winter, be sure to make a stop at the many natural gorges meandering through the country. “Klamms,” the German word for gorges, can be found in abundance in the nine states of Austria. Some are more popular, like the Kaiserklamm and Tiefenbachklamm in Tirol (also spelled Tyrol), while others are lesser known and more difficult to find or access, such as the Burggrabenklamm at the base of the Alps in Salzburg.
Hiking Tiefenbachklamm and enjoying the fresh, cold mountain water during the Austrian summer. Photos by B. Venzel.
With winter temperatures in Austria hovering around freezing, gorge trekking can be a frigid affair. But the entire hike through the canyon is filled with glistening sheets of ice and long, pointed icicles frozen in time.
In the summer, the air climbs to 80 degrees Fahrenheit, ideal for jumping into the rushing river gorge to cool off after a hike. Be sure to bring a sack lunch, too, as you’ll want to stay with your feet dipped in the water for more than just a brief moment.
Gluhwein, or its virgin cousin wassail, is a warm and citrusy holiday drink hailing from German-speaking countries.
A mulled wine, glühwein—spelled out gluvine for Americans—is a warm treat in Germany and Austria, commonly guzzled on the slopes post-skiing. Whereas Americans typically grab beers at the ski lodge, Europeans sit back with some body-warming glühwein in the Alps.
Family skiing in the Austrian Alps (plus brother-in-law’s sister)!
My family first discovered this treat on our vacation in Austria one Christmas. (This trip was also my downhill skiing debut where I fell off the T-bar and followed that up with a humorous attempt to right myself… But the Alps aren’t a bad place for the first-timer experience!)
This is typical of my skiing skills.
The cold doesn’t keep Austrians from enjoying the beauty of their country, and, in fact, they make the most of the natural landscape and culture come snow or sun. I discovered this on my return to Austria two summers ago when my sister married an Austrian in a small, meaningful, picturesque wedding.
The sisters reunited in Alpach, Austria in the summer of 2014 for the older sister’s (middle) wedding to our Austrian brother-in-law.
This winter, the sisters continued with a new family Christmas tradition, reuniting in the cold weather (Salt Lake City last year, Seattle this year). We carried on some Austrian traditions inspired by our entertaining Austrian brother-in-law, making glühwein and spätzle. (Look for a spätzle recipe coming soon!)
The three sisters along Wolfgangsee Lake during the Austrian winter, circa 2007-08.
(Unabashed Disclaimer: Admittedly, I’ve never had this German drink because I don’t consume alcohol, but I have had its virgin counterpart, wassail, made with apple cider instead of wine. And the wassail, I indulge in cupfuls. I will attest to the delicious smell that wafts through the kitchen when we make glühwein, so it must be good. Drink responsibly, friends.)
Ingredients:
1 bottle red wine,* 1 orange, 3/4 c sugar, 3/4 c water, 1 cinnamon stick, 10 cloves
Serves: 2-4ish?
Directions:
Boil the water, sugar and cinnamon in a saucepan then reduce heat to a simmer.
Cut the orange in half and squeeze juice into water. Now poke the cloves into the orange peel and place the halves into the saucepan with the liquid. (This keeps the cloves from disintegrating and you having to drain the liquid with a cheesecloth. Hurray for efficiency!)
Simmer for about 30 minutes until the liquid is thick and syrup-like.
Pour in the bottle of wine* and heat on low until just before simmer.
Remove the orange halves.
Pour, drink, enjoy!**
*Replace with apple cider if making non-alcoholic wassail. (“Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green!” Yes, those are the original words. The more you know…)
**Serve in mugs. Cold glass will break! This ain’t your regular wine-tasting rodeo.
The Paris attacks have left people questioning if we are on the brink of WWIII. Attacks like these leave civilians wanting to scream and shout, “Why can’t we all just get along?”
On my 2010 backpacking trip through Europe, I came across an impressive Holocaust memorial next to the Brandenburg Gate (see video above). Visitors to the monument are left to make their own conclusions as to the architect’s intent. As I walked among the concrete columns of varying sizes, I felt like I was in a mass grave. The memorial transported me back to a time, a tragedy, that occurred before my existence, but a world event that should never be forgotten.
We all wish for world peace. It is my wish that one day our world no longer experiences “events that should never be forgotten.”
Avid travelers see landscapes by foot, train and bus far more often than by air or sea. But maybe we should rethink that. Scenic boat rides and bird’s eye views really put the world in perspective.
My instructor prepares me for our tandem take-off paragliding in Bilbao, Spain.
In Peru this past May, my sister treated me to a birthday paragliding trip over a small mountain range south of Lima. This was my second time paragliding after a peaceful jump of a cliff face in the Bilbao region of Spain back in 2010. Both times were humbling—though my instructor did some acrobatics in Peru that left my stomach turning! In Spain, we paralleled the dynamic line of land and sea, dually unnerving and thrilling knowing you have nothing but the wind preventing you from dropping hundreds of feet into the cold dark waters below. A hawk joined us in flight over Bilbao while a pair of caracaras danced on their wings through the sky in Peru.
For another birthday a couple years ago, my best friend from the Florida Keys and I enjoyed a birthday parasailing trip out of Key West. This was another mix of tranquility and adrenaline rushes as we soared above greens and blues and dropped for quick dips into the chop below.
Parasailing over the Florida Keys is as beautiful as it is fun!
All of these experiences offered me a unique look at my surroundings. Completely immersed in nature, I was at one with the birds in the sky, towering over the foreboding ocean and steep, rocky terrain. If you have the opportunity to take in your travels from a different vantage point, I say do it. It’s one thing I’ve never regretted shelling out money for. You’ll undoubtedly test your courage, have some fun and, hopefully, encounter a fleeting, memorable state of nirvana.
The trip that made me reflect on how I travel was the exploration of my roots in Eastern Europe. Here I am learning about my ancestry in Budapest, Hungary.
For years, one goal has been on repeat in the back of my mind, an endless playlist of only one song: 30 under 30. I have had a goal to visit 30 countries by the time I turn 30. That gives me two-and-a-half years from today to hit 11 more foreign locales.
There is one big problem with this objective. It can be a hindrance to my adventures; it has made me want to pack up and move on to the next stop so I can put another mark on my checklist. What I need to do is rip out the earbuds to my internal iPod so I can live in the moment.
Many with a case of the wanderlust might disagree. Isn’t that the very definition of wanderlust, always wanting to be going places, always searching for new things? When has anyone every complained about setting a goal?
Traveling is a time for growth, a time when we get to know ourselves on the inside and out. Since I first stepped foot in an exotic land eight years ago, I’ve learned a great deal about why I travel: I travel for me and no one else.
Of course travel entails viewing impressive landscapes, eating questionable food and making new friends. But for me, the biggest draw of travel is culture. I am on a circuit of the unfamiliar, immersing myself in foreign languages and customs, undiscovered faces and societies. I am uncomfortable, and it isn’t until I achieve a level of comfort that I feel like I can leave a place behind. Travel is about more than just going somewhere; it is about learning and then doing.
I only recently came to the realization that traveling slowly is the right fit for me. I remember when it happened, popping into my head like a swift kick from a horse, snapping me off my conveyor belt and rooting me in the here and now. I was in Hungary, the beginning of a two-week vacation from work, and I was intent on exploring my ancestry. My father is straight up Hungarian while my mother’s side is a mix of the dissolved ethnicities of Yugoslavia and Bohemia. I only had fourteen days and a few hundred bucks to discover where I came from.
Time and a budget constrained me. Though these are not normally welcomed with open arms by the average wayfarer, they made me take pause.
Two weeks, I said aloud sitting on the bed of a hostel in Budapest. Remember your budget, I repeated as I scanned restaurant menus for authentic cuisine. It’s not enough, I heard myself saying while I learned about the war-ravaged history of this forgiving nation on a walking tour. It simply wasn’t enough.
And so instead of cramming the exploration of my ancestry—Hungary, the Czech Republic (ancient Bohemia) and all six present-day countries that make up historic Yugoslavia—into one limited trip, I said, Next time.
See, that’s the thing about wanderlust. There’s always a next time.
I’ve been to Europe three times now. Why can’t I make it once more?
The search is always on for that vegan escape. As a potato lover, I ate to my belly’s content at Hatunpa restaurant in Peru. I was greeted by this potato lady proudly displaying the types of potatoes served there.
Any vegan knows how difficult it can be to find a restaurant with both animal-friendly and delicious entrees. When traveling, it’s ten times harder. Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and eat the one salad option that doesn’t charge $20 for a bed of lettuce topped with the meat you won’t eat. Sometimes you really have to specify what vegan means. In Latin America, it goes something like this:
You: “What vegan or vegetarian options do you have?”
Waiter: “No meat? Ah, okay we have chicken.”
You: “No chicken, no animals.”
Waiter: “Ah, well we have shrimp and fish!”
Nevertheless, you’ll be surprised nowadays at the vegan/vegetarian/organic spread abroad. That being said, dining out can eat up your funds when you’re a budget traveler, especially at the health food cafes. On the road, I manage to cook when I can, splurge occasionally, and otherwise just find restaurants that give me more than one option for a meal or can prepare a dish up to my specifications. Don’t be afraid to tell the waiter you have dietary restrictions. You’ll be surprised how many chefs are willing to swap out butter with olive oil.
Without further ado, I present to you a list of some of my favorite restaurants I’ve encountered while being sedentary or off gallivanting. Have you eaten at any of these places? Safeguard this list; you never know where life will take you, and knowing where you can find a good meal in a foreign land is always comforting. We all love food, especially when it’s made right.
A quaint local brunch place in a quaint country town. I went here with my wildlife rehab gang on weekend mornings when I lived in the Texas Hill Country. Vegetarian at the time, I drooled over their Pear & Blue Cheese Salad. (Fun fact: The café is right across from the courthouse building where a scene from True Grit was filmed.)
An award-winning breakfast place, the menu is loaded with vegan and gluten-free options. It’s always busy so call ahead the day before if you’re more than one person! Smoothies and the Huevo Nuevo breakfast taco are favorites.
I just… I can’t even… I wanted to eat the whole menu. So creative, so many vegan options. Some suggestions: Vegan Tacos, Yam Fries, Soup of the Day. I made inappropriate noises throughout the entire meal.
Greek food at its finest in the cute historic downtown strip. Okay, so it’s my hometown, but I’m allowed to have a love affair with a hometown restaurant, am I not? (Fun fact: My dad’s office is just down the street. Do give him a hug from me if you’re in the area.)
My Greek food addiction was beyond satisfied when I discovered this local joint. I can’t say enough good things about it. There are so many restaurants in the Keys, but this one lets you escape from the tourist crowd. I went at least once a week when I lived in the Florida Keys. The staff is unbelievably personable; the owner chats with you like you’re longtime friends (which we basically were after I became a regular). They will give you samples of new concoctions just because, and they’ll cook your order just the way you like it. The classic Greek Lemon Potatoes and Greek Salad (with Grape Leaves!!!) are a must.
A vegetarian’s dream in a city with enough restaurants to dine at every day of the year. It’s tucked away on a side street but easy enough to find. You really can’t go wrong with anything on the menu; the cuisine is all over the board. I recommend the Classic Sprouthead or the Baked Brown Sugar Acorn Squash. Enjoy the hippie vibe with local artwork and a broad color pallet.
This place is just too cute. Their batidos (fruit shakes) are scrumptious. The place was recommended to me by the hostel I stayed at when I went into town once a week during my summer in the Amazon, and I subsequently became a weekly breakfast regular. (Check back in the guest book from 2009!) Great place to meet backpackers; mentioned in Lonely Planet!
Everything on this menu is delicious and fresh and vegan, but I recommend the menu del dia. You are served an appetizer, entrée, dessert and drink for the equivalent of $5. Seriously can’t beat that. Also, you’ll think you’re lost when you follow a map to this place but just stick with it. It’s in an alley off an alley off another alley.
Basque country inspired plates are served to you by a couple who relocated to South America. The food is always fresh and the menus del dia unique, often with a vegetarian option.
A potato lover’s paradise. If you’re in Arequipa, this is the perfect opportunity to have the “potato experience” in a country home to more than 4,000 species of potatoes. This restaurant’s potato dishes offer you a handful of these species—even purple potatoes! Lonely Planet gives it a shout out, too.
This local tapas bar was a favorite for my sister, and when I kicked off my 2010 solo summer travels in Europe, it started off my mornings right. I was first introduced to the simple yet delicious Latin American Pan con Tomate here, and I make it for breakfast every now and then just to transport me back in time.
Located on a canal in the trendy district of London, this ‘vegan restaurant of the year’ was the first to open my eyes to the magical culinary combinations of vegan cuisine. Fresh-tasting and unique dishes in a hip atmosphere.
A feisty French Canadian chef who now calls this “out” island home has brought a taste of fresh, authentic French cuisine to the Bahamas. His cuisine is ranked in the top 10 in all of the Bahamas. You just have to get used to his quirky personality. He is tolerant of vegan, gluten-free diets and will do his best to accommodate. The Pesto Salad is to die for. Reservations are a must!
Stacey Venzel 