Intense, Monochromatic, Otherworldly

At 5:30am in Reykjavik, Iceland, my dad, desperately tried to see through battering sleet and foggy windows as he wound our tiny budget rental car in and out of traffic circles. Our destination was a 9am Glacier tour outside of Vik, a collection of small buildings on the southern coast labeled a town. But as we swung around our third and final traffic circle before hitting route 1 (aptly named as the one and only road leaving Rekjavik), we found our exit blocked by a gate and a police car. I rolled down my window, and was immediately confronted with a face full of freezing rain.

“Is there another way to Vik?” I asked.

“You can try the route to the South,” he suggested. My brother quickly consulted Google and learned that would add more than 90 minutes to our trip, “Or come back at 8am to see if this has opened.”

He shrugged. I thanked him and we left.

It was 5 hours to sunrise, we had pumped ourselves full of caffeine and adrenaline, and we had no way to get where we were going.

Established, romantic, hectic

On my first visit overseas at 14 years old, Rome was the first city I went to (or rather, was brought to by my dad). At 14, I was obsessed with the idea of being swept away into a glamorous European experience, my adolescent mind spinning complex narratives in which my eyes would meet a stranger’s across a charming piazza or in an austere gallery, and the rest of my life would consist of a montage of travel with an beautiful accented man who adored my adventurous spirit. Almost 15 years later I still find myself caught up in the magic that is Rome (and I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that the fantasy still holds appeal). To me, Rome will always exist as that ideal, enigmatic destination that feels simultaneously perfect and elusive.

Eclectic, Enchanting, Wild

I once had a tour guide tell me, “don’t think of New Orleans as Southern America, think of it as Northern Caribbean.” It is a perspective that has stuck with me during subsequent visits to The Big Easy – but I don’t think it captures the whole picture. The city feels utterly separate from anywhere else I have been, within the United States or otherwise. New Orleans is an amalgamation of every culture to ever reside there, and having only existed for the last few centuries, it is an amalgamation that developed rapidly and is still in flux. I have been to New Orleans a few times, but during my most recent visit this past weekend I found myself mesmerized by mix of cultures, socioeconomics, and personalities.

Charming, Secretive, Indulgent

Whenever I visit a new place I try to find a book that is set in that location. Whether it is fiction or nonfiction, poetry or prose, I find that experiencing a city vicariously through the characters in a book enhances my  experience once I am actually there myself. As the backdrop for whatever story I find myself engrossed in, otherwise non-descript streets, parks, and buildings become exciting landmarks for me. I inevitably find myself excitedly explaining the plot to whomever I am traveling with.

Despite taking this unique approach to building a reading list, I do no think that the stories I read have ever significantly influenced my own impressions of a city. That is, until Savannah. The same day that I texted a friend “Want to spontaneously road trip to Savannah this weekend?” I downloaded Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. This book, which I was only partially finished with by the time we rolled into the historic district, had me completely enthralled. I would love to say that the following three words are based on experience alone, but I would be lying. Berendt has had just as much influence on me as the city of Savannah itself - my time there serving more as confirmation of pre-formed impressions rather than inspiration for them. So what follows are my completely biased, heavily influenced, but ultimately still true, thoughts on Savannah.

Refreshing, Rustic, Familiar

“Ten cuidado,” an old Ecuadorian man offered in a hoarse whisper, his eyes widening as my two friends and I approached the pool he was seated in. It was about 10pm, we were adorned in bathing suits, already wet from the required pre-shower, and had ridiculous swim caps covering our hair. The three of us stood on the steps to the small, round pool, hesitating, and slightly shivering in the cool mountain air. The second my foot made contact with the water a different shiver ran through my body – the water was near scalding. I had never felt anything like it. The pain was sharp and annoying, and I was struck with the uncomfortable notion that I was about to be cooked. Still, we persevered, lowering slowly into the volcanic spring water, wincing and whining, and over-all making a spectacle of ourselves.

That same old man made eye contact with us again and pointed at a sign hanging up on the pool deck that read “un maximo de cinco minutos”. We nodded in understanding, doubting we would even make it that long. “I think we just earned some ‘gringa-points’,” announced my friend from college, a gigantic grin plastered on her face as we looked around and realized that all of the other tourists were exploring the less-intense pools.

We had arrived in Baños earlier that day, and spent the afternoon careening through the Amazon jungle on zip-lines. Now we were taking after the locals and easing our sore muscles with a dip in the hot springs. As I sat back in the intimate little spa pool, developing a disturbing empathetic connection with a boiled lobster, I realized that Baños already had me completely mesmerized.

Shady, Creative, Promising

I have always believed that if you have friends in interesting locations – you are obligated to go visit them. One week ago, that belief led to me jumping into the driver’s seat of my tiny hatchback and spending an entire evening on the road – destination, Atlanta. A friend from my time in California had recently made the move back east, and considering that I had never spent any time in the Big Peach, I could not pass up the opportunity to explore what is quickly becoming “The Hollywood of the South”.

Due to production incentives in the form of transferable tax credits, Georgia has made it economically responsible for large productions to move their filming locations from the notorious Southern California to the up-and-coming “new” south. The entire Hunger Games trilogy was filmed in Atlanta, along with Oscar nominee Hidden Figures and the last two Fast & The Furious movies. I was personally thrilled that my close friend (who is a brilliant actress herself) had felt the magnetic pull of ATL’s potential, and was now within driving distance of me. I spent 4 days in Virginia Highlands (a trendy Atlanta neighborhood), experiencing everything this city had to offer, and I must admit that I loved every second of it.

Cozy, Hectic, Magical

I will never forget the bizarre sense of unease I felt during my first hour in Hanoi. I stepped out of the airport into a fog-covered taxi-bay, lit blue from the multitude of identical Samsung ads displayed on towering screens. I had arranged a pick-up with the hostel I was staying in, and despite the fact that there was a well dressed man holding a sign that said my name, he seemed unsure of the arrangements. After leaving us in the mysterious taxi-bay for close to a half an hour, he loaded my travel-mates and me into an SUV driven by another well-dressed man. About five minutes into our journey the driver pulled over, and the man with the sign jumped out and disappeared. It was close to midnight, we were tired, and the entire experience didn’t feel quite above-board.

All of that changed when we made it to the Old Quarter. After getting lost, circling the winding streets, and eventually making it to the lobby of the backpacker’s hostel, my friends and I breathed a sigh of relief and set out to explore late-night Hanoi. What we discovered completely shattered my preconceived notions – within moments I was absolutely smitten with this city I had been nervous about just moments before.

Passionate, Expressive, Hot

“The story goes that when designer Philippe Starck was a child, he would play under the dinner table at his grandmother’s house, and that’s where we are now…” our tour guide trailed off as I looked around the sinfully stylish lobby of the Delano hotel on South Beach. The lofty space adorned with floor to ceiling white curtains and towering columns did indeed look like the underside of a gigantic dining room table, and suddenly the space felt much more personal, even intimate. Just by standing in the lobby I got a sense of what the designer was like, what he valued, and how he felt about it. I had arrived in Miami barely an hour prior, and had been thrust into the world of high-end hospitality. A friend from college who now works as an event planner in Manhattan invited me along on this business trip, and I was gate crashing his tour of the iconic boutique hotel.

As we explored the guest rooms, restaurant, beach and conference space I listened to the philosophy behind each stunning piece of art. It was more museum than hotel – and I was happy to find throughout my weekend in The Magic City that this entire southern party mecca was, much like the lobby at The Delano, more than I anticipated it would be. 

Unadulterated, Intimidating, Magnificent

“You know what this looks like?!” I shouted in excitement from the backseat of our SUV, “Splash Mountain!”. We were driving from the northern end of Zion National Park to the visitor center on the south end, and from there, to any of the dozen trailheads the park had to offer. I was elated at the realization that I had finally placed this familiar looking territory in my mind. But while the classic Disney World ride, Splash Mountain, is constructed of plexiglas and plastic, the mountains flying by outside of my window were very, very real.

Having grown up in Upstate NY, I was used to hills, forests, and the state park system, but this was the first time I had ventured west into a national park. I spent three days completely in awe, surrounded by landscapes I had only seen in movies, Ansel Adams photography, and of course, Splash Mountain.

Overwhelming, Electric, Filthy

A simple mention of the city “Bangkok” can elicit extreme reactions in people. I myself have witnessed cultural excitement, knowing smiles, and dirty puns at the mention of the name. By the time my plane touched down at BKK, I had heard enough ladyboy jokes to expect a wild time. Even though I was seeking mango sticky rice instead of sex, I am happy to report that the ‘kok did not disappoint.

Hidden, Inviting, Spectacular

As I ascended the hundred some-odd stairs that separated the The Praia don Ana beach from my rental car, I paused to allow a photographer to line up and snap a shot. Her subjects were an elated bride and groom, stopped on the stairs in order to take one of the most epic wedding pictures I had ever seen. With the sunny sky, turquoise water and dramatic rock faces serving as their background, I couldn’t help but hope that their lives together would always be so picturesque. I had watched them marry not thirty minutes prior, along with a few other dozen sunbathers on the beach. It was late afternoon, and as the sun dipped in the sky, extending the shadows on the beautiful beach, we quietly watched a woman in white walk down the stairs to the sand, where a handful of her loved ones were waiting for her. When they groom kissed his bride, the entire beach applauded.

The Prai don Ana beach sits just minutes outside of Lagos, Portugal, but you need to know it is there in order to find it. There are no directions, no signs…nothing that says “warning, you are about to see the most beautiful beach you have ever seen, prepare yourself”. In fact, all of Lagos feels that way. Which is why I’ve chosen the following three words to describe this Southern Portuguese town.

Authentic, Untouched, Crumbling

“This does not look the way I expected it to,” said my mother, her voice tinged with nerves, as our uber rolled passed ugly dilapidated concrete buildings.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her, “the area around any airport is always a little weird.” I had booked our air bnb, so I knew that the neighborhood we were headed towards was historic and charming, and hopefully stood in sharp contrast to the slightly depressing area we were in at that moment. I had never been to Portugal before, despite having lived within hours of the border during my semester abroad years before. I was expecting the costal country’s capital to feel like Southern Spain, but thus far, it did not. In fact, I couldn’t quite put my finger on the impression I was forming. It took me days to be able to describe this city in a way that felt accurate. I chose the following three words with care and consideration.