Category Archives: beaches

On Being Less “Numb”

The modern world is such a paradox. We are more prosperous, more secure and more comfortable than ever before. Yet, we also seem anxious, depressed and generally dissatisfied. What is going on? What are we missing?

There is something about the modern wold that, at times, can just feel lacking. Days without any meaning. Activities we don’t truly experience. Conversations where everyone’s not really interested and never lead to a true connections. Activities we barely even remember doing. On bad days, it can feel like we have all turned into robots just trying to achieve metrics, numb to all emotions.

Numbness has been attributed to lot of things. Drugs. Alcohol. Certain psychological disorders. Deciding to be constantly be busy. Engaging in only surface level interactions. And, finally, being in a constant state of distraction. The consequences are dire. When we chose to numb ourselves to avoid negative emotions, particularly discomfort, we also deny ourselves positive emotions. We lose the ability to enjoy life.

Over the past month, what I have experienced is most easily described as the opposite of numbness. First, right after Thanksgiving, I returned to the all inclusive resort in Cancun I visited six years earlier.

It was a similar experience. Warmth. Beautiful sunrises over the Atlantic Ocean.

Activities by the beach and pool. And, like last time, I made friends with both the other guests of the resort and the staff that coordinated the activities. It ended up being a very emotional experience. Every day I would go to Spanish lessons.

And, I would regularly try to conduct conversations with the staff in Spanish. After several days, those that I had spoken to most started telling me how much they appreciated our conversations. They said that only about 5% of the guests that come to this resort even try to speak to them in Spanish. One of the employees even wrote a heartfelt note.

It was quite emotional and made me sad to leave. I often don’t feel appreciated in normal day-to-day life. It often feels like people are trying to mold me to adapt a certain set of opinions or maximize my output. Here, I felt appreciated for being myself; goofy, curious and friendly. I felt like I was leaving part of my heart in Mexico.

Then, I spent a week with family, with Christmastime in full swing in the Chicago metropolitan area.

The setting couldn’t be more different. I went from vacation back to performing my remote job. I went from sunshine and 86°F (30°C) warmth to clouds and temperatures near 40°F (3°C).

The source of appreciation this time came from little children; my nephew and niece, ages 7 and 5. There were activities and just quality time spent with family. One of them, due to the lack of snow was baseball. My nephew drew me a picture commemorating a moment we had in a backyard baseball game when I hit a grand slam and we did a grand slam dance.

Leaving this place was emotional as well. It feels good to feel appreciated. I wonder why we are often so bad at showing appreciation. I wonder why I am so bad at it. I spent most of my travel time between all of these destinations wishing that showing appreciation was something that just came more naturally.

Also, neither of these experiences were completely free of all the mechanisms attributed to numbness. At an all inclusive resort, plenty of alcohol was consumed.

This did not stop me from truly experiencing both nature and human connection in Cancun.

Time spent with family raising children is always quite busy.

But that did not stop me from being truly immersed in the activities.

What was common to both weeks is that life felt “full”, like I was generally truly experiencing connections with other humans, activities and the world around me. Whatever numbness is common in standard day-to-day life in 2022 was just not there. If we all have a kind of metaphysical door that opens us up to emotion and experience, both good and bad, mine was clearly open and despite the heartache of leaving both places after the weeks were over, it felt so much better than having it closed.

So, how can we escape this numbness that leads to all this dissatisfaction with life? One commonality to these two weeks is that they both involved significantly less “screen time”. When factoring in computers, smart phones and television, the average American spends over 12 hours per day (84 hours per week) in front of screens. These two weeks my time in front of screens was 12 and 34 hours respectively. I was also generally free of anxiety, tight timelines and other forms of negative stress. Perhaps, it is these two factors, constantly being distracted by notifications from our smartphones and/or stressed out by drama and tight timelines that keeps us emotionally numb. Perhaps, as problematic as dugs, alcohol and being constantly busy can be, the stress and constant distraction that prevents us from being truly present is the bigger issue right now.

The Great Ocean Road Day 3: Final Day

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The iconic 12 apostles is not the only intriguing coastal rock structure in the Port Campbell area. Continuing westward along the Great Ocean Road for the next several kilometers, spectacular oceanic limestone rock structures continue to appear.

First there’s The Arch, the only place I have ever seen a mini waterfall in an ocean.

Then there is London Bridge. The name London Bridge was given to this structure back when it was attached to the mainland. In 2005, London Bridge literally fell down, due to waves and erosion.

The South Ocean is quite turbulent. Everywhere along the Great Ocean Road, particularly in winter, there is a steady barrage of strong waves. There is a reason so many shipwrecks occurred here. As a result, this section of the coast is in a constant state of change. Watching the waves come onshore inundating the limestone rock, gradually eroding it and paving the way for the next structural change, is like watching science in action.

At the grotto, visitors can walk down to an arch-like structure where waves periodically crash in.

Some of the larger waves can lead to mist on the other side of the arch.

After these structures, the Great Ocean Road once again ventures inland, transitioning to farmland.

It would make sense that the Allansford Cheese World is in an area surrounded by farms, right near the end point of The Great Ocean Road.

The Allansford Cheese World produces far more varieties of cheddar than I ever would have thought to be possible. I had always thought of cheddar as one of many types of cheese, which would include Swiss, Pepperjack, Havarti, etc. Visitors to the Allansford Cheese World can sample a dozen different types of cheddar, some of which are really innovative.

It was here I noticed myself slipping back into an American-like stand-offishness when it comes to dealing with people. For the entire trip, I felt Australians to be generally more friendly than Americans. In conversations with Australians, I did not experience the need for the conversation to provide some kind of value, or the assumption that everyone was in a rush to get to their next activity that is characteristic of many conversations I have with Americans. On my final day on the Great Ocean Road, as if trained by years of cultural experience I found myself starting to engage in conversation without being fully engaged, with the time and my next activity on my mind. I could not believe I was doing this.

Although the Great Ocean Road ends here, but most tourists continue on, at least to the town of Warrnambool, where visitors can supposedly see whales. A 30 minute visit to the pier, where one sign promised us “A Whale of a Time”, turned out to be a bust.

I guess there is a danger in trying to fit an activity like this, dependent on complicated natural forces and animal behavior, into any kind of schedule. However, I wanted to continue west, to the Tower Hill Nature preserve, a set of volcanic lakes where koalas often hang out. It would be a shame to visit Australia and not see at least one of those, and at this time of year daylight in Australia is limited.

I made a major mistake here as well. Based on our life experiences, we often internalize assumptions and operate based on them without thinking. Being from Colorado, I have a base assumption that all “hikes” involve a climb, to some sort of peak or cool looking overlook.

After two such hikes, in hopes of seeing koalas, an employee at the visitor information center informed us that koalas need trees with moisture and would likely be found down by the lakes. This walk needed to be flat, not up a big hill.

For some reason, despite their actual demeanor, koalas feel like a picture of innocence. A small, furry, cuddly creature constantly hanging onto a tree and sleeping 20 hours per day. I actually wanted to pet them.

Port Fairy would be our final destination.

We’d have one last adventure here, a short walk onto Griffiths Island.

Where we would have one final wildlife encounter, fairly up close with the wallabies!

A trip that many would consider “once in a lifetime” was coming to an end. I sat on a rock gazing out at the Ocean as the sun gradually faded behind me. It felt like a real life version of the fade outs often used at the end of movies and videos. Looking straight outward, I was amazed at how vast the Ocean is. I began to imagine what is on the other side, pondering more adventures. Uncertain as to the exact direction I was facing, I imagined multiple possibilities of what laid straight in front of me.

I imagined the jungles of Madagascar, with monkeys and other forms of wildlife roaming around in the trees and a lone explorer with a knife trying to trudge through the trees and mud.

I imagined the vast expansive ice sheets of Antarctica.

I imagined the far more nearby mountains of Tasmania, quiet for the winter season, but coming to life with young adult hikers and adventurers in the Springtime.

Despite the fact that my adventure would slowly be ending, the reflection of the orange light on the ocean surface felt like an invitation and promise of more to come.

Where New England Begins

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Everyone has this idea in their head of the ideal place to live. For some, it is right in the middle of something; the middle of the big city where everything is happening, the middle of the woods, or somewhere else one can truly immerse themselves in the kinds of activities they enjoy most. For others, it is places like this, places that are kind of on the edge of two worlds, that combine easy access to several types of amenities.

Greenwich, Connecticut is literally the first town across the border from New York State. Since the people of New York, and the people of New England have a mutual preference to not include New York in the region known as “New England”, this is the exact place where one enters New England.

But, how much does one really feel like they are in New England when here? The town is clearly a suburb of New York City. There is no unincorporated area that separates Greenwich from the adjacent suburbs that are part of New York State. With an express train, one can be at Grand Central Station in Midtown Manhattan in around 40 minutes.

The town does have a New England-like charm. One needs only travel, by foot, several minutes away from Greenwich Ave. (the town’s main street), and the train station, before they enter an area of windy roads, dense trees and quaint houses one often associates with New England.

It has a charming downtown, as well as a “Commons” outside their City Hall, which is something I have come to associate with New England, as I had not seen areas like this referred to as a “Commons” in other regions of the country.

Perhaps one of Greenwich’s greatest attributes is the beach in an area referred to as “Old Greenwich”.

One of the largest beaches in the area, and one of the few that permits dogs, it attracts a significant number of people, even on a dreary day in January.

Once again, here at the waterfront, one can see where this town sits geographically. Even on a cloudy day, at the end of the Peninsula that extends southward into the Long Island Sound, one can see both the rocky shores that pop up the along the shores of New England, extending all the way from here to Maine, but can also see the skyline of New York City.

Around town, I got that same hybrid-like vibe. The pace of life is definitely different from New York City. In New York City, people appear to have some kind of sense of urgency in everything they do. I tell people who have never lived in New York to imagine the second or third most stressful day of their past year and assume that every person around them is having that kind of day. In the short amount of time I spent in Greenwich, I did not sense nearly that level of urgency in the people around me.

Greenwich’s New York-like and New England-like characteristics are overshadowed by one characteristic that seems to define everything here; wealth!

Dealerships selling expensive cars, even Bentleys, line U.S. highway 1 coming into town. The beachfronts are lined with large, multi-million dollar homes, and downtown is lined with shops selling expensive designer brands.

Gucci, Louie, Michael Kors… I do not even know the name of all of them. Frankly, I do not even care. I can never picture, even if one day I become this wealthy, choosing to spend my money that way. The only reason I know the names I do know is that they pop up in popular song lyrics, particularly rap music. While sometimes I can get extremely annoyed by designer brands, particularly if I am EVER pressured into making a purchase, I cannot help but have some kind of odd admiration for the people that managed to market them, and, convince people to spend the amount of money they do on such products.

The people who create and market designer products have a keen understanding of human psychology (albeit, they could have used it for a better purpose). Anytime anyone spends money (and sometimes time) on something, they want to know what they are getting. It is the same dynamic that takes place when we ask our friend regarding their experience with a specific doctor, or a real estate agent. We do not know what we are getting. Through brands, we create trust. “I know Subarus won’t break down on me”. Or, “I trust the Cohen brothers to make a good film.” So, we buy the product. Those that created these designer brands managed to create a reputation so powerful that millions of people worldwide purchase this product when they could easily purchase something similar for a fraction of the price!

The two main things that stop people from living in that “ideal place” in their heads are job availability and money (which are closely related). The fact that people with this amount of additional money chose to live here speaks volumes to Greenwich’s appeal as a place that combines the best of both worlds. People who live here seem to have the best of both worlds; easy access to New York City, the city with more amenities than any other in the country, and fairly easy access to outdoor activities. Friends that moved here from Manhattan tell me that the move has reduced the travel time to nearly all outdoor activities (hiking, skiing, the beach) by 30-60 minutes. While it’s easy to come here and be envious of the fortunes here, it is also quite easy to see, even from someone who might have a different “ideal place” in mind, why people chose to live here.

Saint John; Virgin Islands

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Saint John Island is one of the most remote places within the United States. A part of the United States Virgin Islands territory, it’s year-round population is a meager 4200 people. It can only be accessed via ferry or boat. For mainlanders, Saint John can be accessed by a 20 minute ferry ride, after a half hour cab ride from the airport on nearby Saint Thomas. The flying time to Saint Thomas is listed as roughly three hours from the nearest major airport in the mainland; Miami, Florida. Therefore, the minimum travel time for any mainlander is four hours. For most, the journey is much longer.

I spent my time on Saint John primarily in two places; Cruz Bay, which is the main population center on the island, and Caneel Bay, a resort about ten minutes farther up the coast of the island.

Cruz Bay is where the ferry from Saint Thomas first arrives. It is the first place any visitor to this island sees. It is Saint John’s front door, it’s first impression. And it doesn’t disappoint. The ocean here is as stunning and picturesque as anywhere I could possibly imagine. In fact, even at some of the best kept lakes in the United States, I have never seen water this magically blue.

Upon arrival to Cruz Bay on the ferry, one immediately sees a plethora of tourist accommodations. To the left is the Virgin Islands National Park Visitor Center. In front are the beaches, boats and restaurants.

A tourist that walks up the road straight in front of them (road names are not obvious here) will encounter a road lined with bars and restaurants that obviously cater to those not from the Islands. Walking along this street in the evening, rather than traditional Caribbean music, one will hear the likes of Jimmy Buffet, modern American pop, and a surprising amount of Country-Western music. And, a vast majority of the proprietors and patrons of any of these restaurants are obviously tourists or those who moved here from the mainland to work tourism related jobs.

Most of the residents of this island are black (or Afro-Caribbean). Although this did not really surprise me, I still wonder how this came to be, as I had never really been taught about the history of the Caribbean Islands beyond the arrival of Christopher Columbus in 1492 and the subsequent voyages to the “New World” that the news of this voyage inspired.

However, when I look around me, and take a couple of trips to less touristy parts of the Island, where one can see a better representation of how those native to Saint John live, I can’t help but have the present rather than the past on my mind.

How do the lives of those that live here year round differ from our own?

How do they feel about being a part of the United States? And, more specifically, how do they feel about their status as a U.S. territory (and not a state)? We commonly hear about issues regarding Puerto Rico’s similar status, and the razor thin margin between those who support and those who oppose statehood. But, we never really hear much about the U.S. Virgin Islands’ status and how it impacts the people here.

Most importantly, how do they feel about us, and our presence here? Do they debate the economic impact of tourism vs. the cultural disruption that it causes? Do they ponder the fact that within the mainland part of the U.S., we have places like Catalina, Key West and South Padre, places where many of us could theoretically get a similar experience without invading their island?

Ultimately, are they fighting for their identities, their culture, or are they enjoying the economic benefit of our presence, as well as their association with the United States of America? When we think of the Caribbean, we often think of pop icons, including Bob Marley, but also more recent pop icons from the region, such as Daddy Yankee and Sean Kingston. The music produced by these artists take us to the pristine tropical oceans of the Caribbean, if nowhere else but in our minds.

However, it is these pop icons that appear to represent the dichotomy of the possible responses that seem plausible given the current situation of those that live in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Marley, from his lyrics, considered himself part of a struggle for the culture and identity of himself and his people. But modern pop stars like Kingston appear to be simply enjoying the economic benefit of their stardom, much of which comes from the U.S. and the western world that Marley rallies against.

Although there is a lot more to any one person’s life that what we witness through the media, Kingston and Co. do appear to be thoroughly enjoying their lives.

After multiple nights of partying, I lay exhausted on Scott Beach, the finest beach on Caneel Bay resort. I watch the boaters and snorkelers go by. Some even tell me that it was here, in the clear waters of the Caribbean, that they had one of the best snorkeling experiences of their lives. They did so by being willing to visit a place a little bit out of the way, a place where the people, the culture, and the way of life are different than their own.

That is when it occurred to me that the world is full of people who are different from me. The world is full of people who look different, act different, have different customs, beliefs, values, and different ways of understanding the world. We can either learn to live with different types of people, and try to relate to them as best as we can, or we can accept the limitations that go along with confining ourselves to people with sufficient similarities to ourselves.

In practice, we all implore somewhat of a combination of the two strategies; accepting some differences but trying to stay away from others. However, there are some that believe that in an increasingly connected world, the future belongs to those that can bridge the gap between different cultures. I am not sure if I inherently believe that the ability to bridge cultural gaps is a prerequisite for success in the 21st Century, as many people have built fortunes designing products that largely cater to one segment of society. However, when I watch people enjoy Saint John Island, and watch videos by Kingston and other similar artists, I see firsthand the benefits of being able to relate to those with different backgrounds and ways than my own.

Sort of Leaving the Country

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I never had any specific plans to visit the U.S. Virgin Islands. I had always been aware of their existence, and their Puerto Rico like murky status as part of the United States. And, every time I saw images like this one, showing the magnificently clear water of the Caribbean, the plethora of activities that are available, and the obviously phenomenal weather, it had always seemed like a magnificent place to go. However, for some reason, I just never made any specific plans to make a trip here. Maybe it was the knowledge that it would be a fairly expensive trip that kept me away. But, more likely, it was the plethora of other pursuits, other destinations, and other activities that are constantly circulating around my head.

This is why, when it comes to travel as well as general life activities, it is sometimes best to follow the lead of others. If I were to only take part in the activities that I had personally selected to be a part of, and only gone to the places I had decided on my own I wished to go, I would have missed out on hundreds of great experiences over the past couple of decades. I would never have learned activities like water skiing, or camping. I would have never discovered some of my favorite foods, like chicken wings, or Thai food. And, I would have never attended some interesting events, like rodeos, plays, and some interesting comedy shows. I would essentially be a completely different person than who I am today.

Following the lead of others, I was brought to the Virgin Islands to attend a destination wedding. After nearly an entire day of travel, I arrived at a destination that is not quite American, yet not quite foreign.

The U.S. Virgin Islands is considered a part of the United States. All of the signs read in English. There is no talk of any foreign currency. And, more than half of St. John Island is a part of a U.S. National Park. Yet, there are some major differences between how things work and operate in the U.S. Virgin Islands vs. the mainland. The first, most glaring difference that greets any tourist when they arrive on either of the Islands is the fact that cars drive on the left side of the road. For some reason, I figured this would be the case in the British Virgin Islands, but not the U.S. islands, as we drive on the right in our country.

Other major differences that become obvious right away include the taxis, which are sized and shaped quite differently than anywhere in the U.S., even tropical places like California or Florida. As opposed to basically being cars for hire, taxis here are high profile vans with several rows of seating, built to accommodate roughly a dozen people if need be. Their fare structure is also different. Most rides are a flat, destination dependent, per person fee, regardless of the size of the party. In the mainland, fees are mostly destination dependent, with the cost difference between transporting a single passenger, and several passengers differing by only a couple of dollars.

Also, a large majority of the streets here lack sidewalks, or any other type of pedestrian accommodation. Walking around Saint John Island, I mainly had to figure out a way to maneuver around structures, both natural and man-made, and live with the traffic being so close to me.

Walking in close proximity to vehicles driving on the opposite side of the road that one is accustomed to, along with significantly different mannerisms, and the extremely thick accents of the natives, would be enough to make an extremely sheltered person freaked out. For me, I felt only partially outside of my comfort zone. It was really unclassifiable. It was as if I was walking some kind of fine line, or living on the “edge”, as people used to say. I was neither completely out of my element, nor reverting to the familiar. I was neither “outside the box”, nor “inside the box”. Maybe I was on the top of the box?

Fittingly, my new activity for the weekend was snorkeling in the Caribbean. Like my experience in the U.S. Virgin Islands as a whole, this activity took me part of the way out of my comfort zone, but not completely. I have swam, water skied, and jet skied before. I have plenty of experience with water activities. The main challenge snorkeling presented to me, as a first timer, was mastering the breathing. I’d say it was also mastering the use of the flippers, but I most certainly did not master those. I still moved around quite inefficiently. However, once I was able to overcome my high elevation instincts to try to breath through my nose, and open my mouth wider to take in more oxygen while engaging in physical activity, I was able to breathe properly, and truly enjoy the activity.

It is said that the Caribbean is one of the best places to snorkel due to it’s clarity. I was able to see some coral reefs, and moving fish. Those the dove deeper down, either by scuba diving, or holding their breath, were able to see some turtles, a lobster, and view the coral much more closely. Although I chose not to go too far down, I still saw underneath the Ocean for the first time ever, and was glad that I went part of the way outside my comfort zone, in both visiting the Virgin Islands, and snorkeling in the Caribbean.

Pacific Beach San Diego

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I laid there for over an hour in the hot California sun. In fact, it was unusually hot for the oceanfront. While areas further inland regularly get significantly hotter, temperatures well into the 80s with insane humidity is quite rare for the beech. Despite the unusual conditions, I still captured this California experience. In fact, the entire time I felt as if I had stepped right into a Red Hot Chili Peppers song.

There is the ocean, the palm trees, the waves, and most importantly, the surfers. Boy were there a lot of surfers. I had never seen so many surf boards in my life. Even in my most vivid imagination of a California stereotype, there were not nearly as many surf boards in one place. On the way to and from the beach, a clear majority of vehicles had surf boards in them.

And I watched, gradually getting a nasty sunburn on my back. I watched people walk by. I saw a group of people play football in the water. I saw about a dozen “wind surfers”, and even got to witness the challenge involved in using the wind, a much more variant force than that of a boat (used for activities like water skiing), to get up onto the water. The most experienced wind surfers still appeared to require a few attempts to get up onto the water. By contrast, experienced water skiers seem to always get up on their first attempt.

Mostly, I observed the surfers catch wave after wave. I wondered if these waves were better or worse than a typical Saturday on Pacific Beach. I wondered how long it took the better surfers to achieve this level, and whether or not their form was truly as great as it appeared to an outsider like me.

Normally, my attention span would wane much sooner than this. But I was capturing the moment. And, also I was quite exhausted.

The previous afternoon, I had flown into San Diego and attended my friend’s bachelor party, which was mostly held in Downtown San Diego’s Gas Lamp Quarter. Similar to the French Quarter in New Orleans, or Midtown Manhattan, this district is touristy and quite expensive, but not overly cheesy. There are a few chain restaurants and bars, but many of the establishments are unique to San Diego. The nightlife here is not confined to one or two stretches of a road, as in places like the “Las Vegas Strip”. The entire square mile was majorly hopping, with restaurants, bars, loud music, dancing, and the sidewalks where quite full with patrons, most of whom likely spent upwards of $100 over the course of the night.

The main thing that set the “Gas Lamp Quarter” apart from similar districts in other large cities was how many times we were solicited, and how aggressively we were solicited, by wait staff at bars and restaurants while walking down the street. Someone from nearly every restaurant we walked by would talk to us, and tell us about their food and specials and such. The only other place I remember being solicited walking down the street was along Division Street in Chicago’s Gold Coast, and those conversations were always brief.

I only spent three days in San Diego, and a good chunk of it was tied up by the bachelor party, rehearsal, and the wedding itself. So, I did not get a chance to go to Sea World, or any of the standard San Diego tourist places. However, I did really appreciate where the wedding was held; At a resort called the Catamaran along San Diego’s Sail Bay.

At this location, I spent most of my time in the Pacific Beech (and Mission Beach) area. Aside from the standard boardwalk, the neighborhood has several active roads with lots of restaurants and bars, and is the kind of place where you can find almost anything within a short walk of each other, as well as the beech. Both during the day, and in the evening, streets like Mission, Grand, and Garnett were filled with people taking part in many different activities.

California is a unique place with a distinct culture, and although I was only here for three days, I did get to observe a lot of it for myself. People here really do drive everywhere! Even though Pacific Beech is a walkable area on a grid system, the type of area you would expect to be more pedestrian/transit oriented in another major city, almost everyone seemed to be arriving here by car. And this means that parking is hard to find in a lot of places. As we left the beech that day, we were asked by a car full of surfers coming to the beech where our car was, in hopes that they could take our parking spot.

While San Diego does have a transit system, almost all of the people I talked to basically did not consider it an option. I did ride on both a bus and the train. The bus driver told me there were no “transfers” (i.e. from one bus to another or from bus to train on one fare), making the system seem inconvineint for most.

The fish tacos here are truly amazing! And it really is the tortillas that make some fish tacos more amazing than others.

There are tons of other foods that are somewhat unique to the area, including a lot of foods with avocado and/or sprouts. I particularly enjoyed San Diego style fries, which include meat, cheese, avocado, and garlic.

Although Southern California is known to be less obsessed with football than the rest of the U.S., there are still tons of people who get really into football, both college and professional.

Bicycle riders are clearly divided into two types; One that rides hard core and comes out early in the day wearing full bike gear, and one that rides cruisers, goes about 10 mph, and only pedals when absolutely necessary. The later group does not wear helmets.

People here in general appear healthy- about as healthy as Denver, and far more healthy than the Midwest.

I really wish to return to San Diego, as I still feel there is much more to do that time allotted. In a future trip, I think it would be neat to actually take a lesson and learn to surf, spend some time in some of the other popular neighborhoods, and I would really like to have some sushi, as there is probably a lot of really good sushi here. And, I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing more scenes like this one.

The Action Story

Learning about the world and about ourselves through travel and experiences

Category Archives: beaches

The Great Ocean Road Day 3: Final Day

Where New England Begins

Saint John; Virgin Islands

Sort of Leaving the Country

Pacific Beach San Diego