I’m not especially interested in “the must-see sights,” the perfect angle, or the places everyone agrees you’re supposed to love. I’m interested in why people end up where they do — what draws them there, what they’re running toward (or away from), and what a place reveals once you stay long enough to notice its contradictions.

That’s what A Broad Abroad is about.

It’s about the roads people don’t advertise, the hotels they whisper about, the destinations that feel different once the novelty wears off. It’s about chance encounters, quiet power, strange beauty, bad timing, good instincts — and the reality that travel is as much about mood and moment as it is about geography.

Some of what I’ll write about will be glamorous. Much of it won’t be. I’m drawn to places that feel slightly unresolved — cities in transition, resorts with secrets, corners of the world that don’t quite fit the narrative being sold about them.

You’ll read about where celebrities and power players go, yes — but more importantly, why they choose those places, and what that says about the world right now. You’ll read about destinations before they’re trending, and sometimes after they’ve been misunderstood. You’ll read about the details that don’t make it into a brochure: the silence, the discomfort, the odd rituals, the small moments that make a place stick with you.

This won’t be a guide on how to travel “better.”

It’s an invitation to travel more curiously.

Some weeks, I’ll be on the ground. Other weeks, I’ll be following the trail from afar. Always, I’ll be asking the same questions: Why here? Why now? And what does this place tell us that we’re not supposed to notice?

If you like your travel writing curious, a little restless, occasionally skeptical, and always observant — welcome.

We’ll wander from here.

— Paula

Like many Americans, by the time spring rolled around after a long, cold, lonely COVID winter, I was ready to get the hell out of dodge for sunnier climes where I could at least pretend life was normal.

But where to go? The pandemic still runs amok, and it seems that fewer people are taking it as seriously as they did last year. I desperately wanted to sit on a beach, swim in the ocean and relax — so, Florida? After all, much of New York seems to have moved there.

Then I saw reports of hordes roaming maskless in the streets, bars and restaurants. Miami Beach even sent SWAT teams out to enforce its emergency curfew, albeit it to little avail as spring-break partiers twerked the night away. And with the arrival of the Delta variant, hospital ICUs are full, and even vaccinated people are getting seriously ill. This was a non-option for me.

Fate intervened, however, when friends asked me to stay with them on Kamalame Cay, a private island in Andros, Bahamas. I had also heard about Baha Mar, the huge resort in Nassau, Bahamas, that launched a “travel with confidence” program in February: If a guest tests positive for COVID-19 while staying at Baha Mar, the hotel will put them up for 14 days in a suite or fly them privately to the US — for free.

COVID Taken seriously in the Bahamas

Still nervous, I did my research and found that the Bahamas — which has a population of less than 400,000 — had had only 9,460 cases of COVID with just 190 deaths from the virus since the start of the pandemic. That’s just over a 2 percent infection rate and just under a .05 death rate. Miami-Dade County’s 2.7 million population, meanwhile, has reported a 17 percent infection rate and a .22 death rate. So I decided to spend two days at Baha Mar before joining my friends on Kamalame.

The Bahamas’ low rates are mostly due to the island taking COVID so seriously. Anyone arriving in the country must obtain a negative COVID-19 RT-PCR (swab) test taken no more than five days prior to the date of arrival (this is not necessary if you are vaccinated).

Once you land, your health visa lasts for five days. As I had already spent three days on the island, I had to get another PCR test in Nassau before I was allowed to travel to Kamalame Cay in Andros.

“Tourism is our life here — we had no life for a year, and one bad apple can ruin it for all of us,” Wilda, a taxi driver told me. “We take this very seriously.”

And they do. Mask wearing is rigorously enforced inside buildings and in public areas. Sanitization stands are everywhere. Before you can officially check into Baha Mar, you are sent to see the doctor and then quarantined in your room until you get your test results (usually within 20 minutes). You’re then required to wear masks everywhere but the dining areas, pools, and beach.

Things were different at Kamalame Cay, a private island with just 27 beachfront bungalows and villas. In fact, it was almost as if COVID hadn’t happened at all. Thanks to regular testing, a plethora of open-air common buildings, and the fact that quite a few people on island haven’t left for months, masks are not worn at all.

All food comes from the small island’s farm or the sea, and people milled together for movie nights, barbecues and cocktail parties.

It turns out Bahamas was the ultimate luxury, not just because of where I stayed, but because it made me feel safe — and normal.

While Miami and Palm Beach might have been nice for a few hours, the worry of “Will I get COVID?” would have ruined any relaxation and kept me shut in my room. I can stay in New York for that.

*This story originally appeared in the New York Post.

The post Forget Florida – try the Bahamas where they take COVID seriously appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

At this point, most people know about drag queens — thanks, RuPaul! — but fewer are aware of drag kings: women who dress as men.

There are thriving drag-king scenes in London, New York, Paris, Los Angeles — and, most subversively, Brazzaville in the Republic of Congo, where these women are out-dancing, out-posing and out-dressing their peers. They are also fighting for female equality in a region decidedly not known for it.

Locally, the drag kings are known as Sapeuses, a branch of part of Le Sapeurs, aka the “Society of Elegant Persons of the Congo.” Formerly an all-male group, Sapeurs have been around since the beginning of the 20^th Century, when colonial “masters” would gift their old clothing to their slaves.

Soon, the slaves found a way of rebelling.

“Captivated by the snobbery and refined elegance of the Coast Men’s attire, Congolese houseboys spurned their masters’ secondhand clothes and became unremitting consumers and fervent connoisseurs, spending their meager wages extravagantly to acquire the latest fashions from Paris,” writes Didier Gondola in the essay “La Sape Exposed!: High Fashion Among Lower-Class Congolese.”

A way of life

“It’s not only about spending a lot of money on the clothes, but also the way they speak, the way they move,” Hector Mediavilla told NPR. “It’s a way of presenting their lives and being somebody in a society that doesn’t give you many opportunities.”

The pacifist Sapeur movement waxed and waned throughout the 20^th Century but was revived in the 1970s by musician Papa Wembe and again in 1999 after the vicious civil war in the Republic of Congo. However, it wasn’t until 10 years ago that women were formally allowed into the group.

Edith Loubaki, 49, was one of the first Sapeuses publicly accepted as a Sapeur, although she has been dressing in male drag since 1980.

“I started in 1980 when I was very young,” said the market saleswoman and hairdresser, who was wearing a pressed pink dress shirt and a purple French suit when I met her. “My first husband was a Sapeur. You always need to be clean; with the Sapeurs, you are in a clean place with clean people. And it gives an example to my children that you should always care about your appearance.”

Fashion influencers

Sapeurs have gained international notoriety in the last decade. They were cited as influencing fashion designer Junya Watanabe’s Fall 2015 collection and Paul Smith’s Spring/Summer 2010 collection, have been featured in a Guinness Beer advertisement and mini-documentary in 2014, and starred in Kendrick Lamar’s 2018 music video “All The Stars.”

In a similar vein to drag shows and competitions, different Sapeur communities compete against one another — mugging their way down an impromptu catwalk, flexing their muscles, puffing out their chests and popping colorful umbrellas.

“The main competition is the Festival of Sapeurs in September,” said Loubinzi, who attended a gathering with her young son. “Being a Sapeur is in the blood and so my son will be one! I am training him now.”

The rules of the Sapeurs are strict. You cannot wear more than three colors at a time. You can not enter a Sapeur clubhouse unless you are one. You must master basic footwork and dance moves. And you can only dress as a man.

Raised in the culture

Chantal Kourissa, 45, was raised in the culture. “I started when I was ten because my parents were Sapeurs,” said the police officer who is married with three children. “From a very young age, I have dressed as a man. I love it.”

Republic of Congo president Dennis Sassou Nguesso has raised the group’s profile from cult status to a “cultural heritage,” allowing them to participate in public events.

“They are hired for weddings and advertisements now,” Anuncia said.

Empowering women

And by allowing women to participate, it offers liberation and empowerment in a society where women are often seen as second-class citizens.

“We are celebrated here,” another female Sapeur told me.

No one I met would say they were anything but heterosexual, which is understandable in a country where members of the LGBTQ community suffer discrimination.

All Sapeurs, be they male or female, uphold the creed to “bring joy and happiness. To enjoy life and create a good atmosphere.”

As the narrator intoned in the 2014 Guinness commercial: “When there’s peace, there’s la Sape. When there’s peace, there’s life…These extraordinary [people] remind us that in life you can always choose who you are.”

Or, as RuPaul once said: “We’re all born naked. The rest is drag.”

This article originally appeared in the New York Post.

The post The Drag Kings of Africa appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

In the rainforests of the Congo, Cameroon and Central African Republic (CAR) lives an elusive mammal that looks like a cross between an anteater, an armadillo and a pinecone. And thanks to poachers, the pangolin is the most trafficked animal on earth.

In April 2019, Singapore seized a world record 25.6 tons of pangolin scales, worth $76.5 million, from an estimated 38,000 of the creatures. In December, scales from some 50,000 African pangolins were seized by Chinese authorities.

In all, it is estimated that more than 100,000 pangolins, mostly from Africa, were killed by traffickers last year — compared to 200 rhinos and 1,000 tigers.

“It’s because of this scale, this unique feature [that makes)] them a target,” said Tessa Ullman, a volunteer at the Sangha Pangolin Project, a preservation society. “The Pangolin burrow and create holes, so [the scales are] associated with circulation. It’s used as an ingredient in traditional Asian medicines … They’re used to help mothers for lactation, and for blood pressure. But none of this has been clinically proven.”

But that’s not stopping true believers.

According to the ASEAN Post, “Sunda pangolins in Indonesia are at risk of extinction [and the country] has already lost up to 10,000 a year to illegal trade.”

Due to demand from China and Vietnam, pangolins in South East Asia are almost extinct.

“What’s happening, basically, is that the four Asian species have been all but decimated because of the trade,” Ullman said. “So African pangolin species are now being targeted to feed the demand in Asia … It’s really the illegal trade in scales that’s threatening the species the most.”

Meeting the Pangolin

Last year, I had the opportunity to come face to face with the coveted animal during my stay at the Sangha Lodge near the Dzangha-Sangha National Park in the CAR, in the Tri-National Protected Area that abuts Cameroon and the Republic of Congo.

There, I met the founders and volunteers of the Sangha Pangolin Project. Rod Cassidy and his wife, Tamar, are South Africans who have been in the CAR since 2009 when they turned the former research lodge into a retreat for tourists as well as conservationists, who control and protect an area that is 725 square kilometers.

I saw a black-bellied pangolin, named Cookie, amongst the trees of the Sangha Lodge’s protection zone, as well as a baby white-bellied pangolin, Mata, who was being raised at the center after being rescued from a bushmeat market in Bangui, CAR.

“There’s a lot of bushmeat going from the countryside through to the cities, which is part of the bushmeat trade,” Rod said. “This baby was for sale and somebody bought it … so that we could raise it and release it into the wild, which is what we do. We are not into keeping any of the animals yet. They have to go back into the forest.”

Rod and Tamar have had success doing this with several other pangolins in the past. “We’ve released over 90 into the forest,” he added.

But while Mata was saved from being bushmeat, the real threat to her species remains the scale trade.

I saw it firsthand in 2014 when I visited the Farraday Market in Johannesburg, South Africa — a “Muthi” market specializing in traditional medicine. While many Muthi, or healers, use herbs and plants, others favor animals: That day, I saw chimpanzee hands, lion parts, a wide assortment of animal horns and three dead pangolins.

“Roadkill,” the vendor said when I asked him about the carcasses and scales.

Five years later, the problem has escalated.

Conservation

To protect the species, the Cassidys have hired more than 50 locals — most of them Ba’Aka hunters who subsistence hunt in the area, to run their hotels, track the pangolins in the wild, and help with construction. Much of their work includes research and education of locals.

“The locals might want to carry on eating . . .  But at the same time, we don’t want them to trade [scales],” Cassidy said. “We have to sensitize people and [encourage them to feel] ownership of this and not allow these animals to go extinct on their watch.

“[The problem] is exactly the same as rhino poaching syndicates, who set up shop in Lagos and put the messages out that they want scales. It’s big guys in the cities, little guys in the smaller towns and poachers in the villages.”

But Ullman is determined to call them out.

“It’s been almost a silent extinction because this is an animal that no one really knew about,” she said.

If you want to visit with the pangolin, contact The African Adventure Company.

This article originally appeared in the New York Post. 

The post The Pangolin: The most trafficked animal in the world appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

The Ba’Aka, rarely seen by Westerners, stand between four and five feet tall and live a semi-nomadic life in the impenetrable jungles of the Dzangha-Sangha National Park, located in the Tri-National Protected Area that abuts Cameroon and the Republic of Congo.

Last year, I had the opportunity to go hunting with members of the tribe.

The Ba’Aka are legendary trackers with an encyclopedic knowledge of the forest, which has safeguarded them for thousands of years.

“Their knowledge helped them escape slave traders and evade conflicts [in the past],” explained Alon Cassidy, whose family runs the nearby Sangha Lodge and the Sangha Pangolin Project, which works to save the world’s most trafficked animal — the pangolin, a type of anteater — from extinction. “When people would attack or invade, they would just disappear back into the forest.”

The competition to hunt with outsiders is fierce, as it not only provides the Ba’Aka a ride into the dense jungle but added resources as visitors pay a fee for the “cultural activity”.

Only 100 people visited Dzangha-Sangha Park in 2019. When the trucks holding me and four others pulled into the small town of Mossapula, the fighting was fierce to get picked: Within seconds, our trucks were swarmed with Ba’Aka, all armed with a machete and a hunting net.

Christion Bangala, a Bantu guide and interpreter, chose around 20 of the Ba’aka hunters — as many as could fit on the trucks, including men, women and children — and we set off down the main dirt road. The roads are basic to say the least, and it was post-rainy season. After a mile or two, the lead truck blew a tire. It was fixed, but a little later our path was blocked by a downed tree, forcing us to walk part of the way.

After about a mile, the leader picked a spot and we entered the bush, trying to follow the Ba’Aka who easily disappeared into the foliage. At some points, we could only follow them by sound as, unlike Western hunters, the Ba’Aka make as much noise as possible, singing songs as they wield machetes through the thick, confusing growth.

“It scares the animals into being still and trying to hide,” Bangala explained as we ran to catch up.

Once a suitable spot was chosen, the Ba’aka unfurled their nets and wandered into the center of the large trap, yelling, beating bushes and stomping to flush out any hiding animals.

After several tries, no animals were caught so the Ba’Aka decided to call it a day.

“They will go out again tomorrow,” Cassidy explained. “They will hunt several times a week as needs dictate, and sometimes leave for up to six months to collect meat to sell in the bush markets.”

For almost 4,000 years, the isolated Ba’Aka pygmy tribe has led an autonomous life hunting and gathering in this area known as the “Lungs of Africa.” For those lucky enough to come across them, they are instantly recognizable, not just for their short stature, but their physical appearance.

While both genders have tattoos, only women mark their face by slicing their flesh with sharp knives in and rubbing a certain forest leaf on it that turns the skin blue, black or green on contact.

The men and women carve their top teeth into sharp, shark-like points. The procedure, which usually takes place when at nine or 10 years of age, involves them biting down on a stick while their teeth are chiseled into shape by a rock or a machete.

“It’s very painful,” said Bangala, 46.  “When they are out hunting for long periods of time in the forest [the pointed teeth] help with biting into meat. It also is for beauty and it shows they can withstand great pain and are courageous. [Long ago,] if you didn’t have sharp teeth you couldn’t get married and were considered weak.”

The tribe subsists by hunting mostly small antelope called duiker and wild hogs but also small rodents, porcupines, birds, monkeys and almost anything that gets caught in their nets. But certain animals are more important than others.

“If you want to marry a girl, you have to bring her parents the meat of a red river hog,” Bangala said. “It is a delicacy.”

While some of the meat the Ba’Aka hunt is unpalatable to Western culture, “This type of hunting is sustainable.”

The tribe supplements their diet with honey, nuts, forest fruits and vegetables, and water found inside jungle vines that grow liberally in the forests.

These forests, full of old-growth, 1,000-year-old trees are now under threat due to illegal logging, meaning the Ba’Aka. way of life is also at risk. After the creation of the national park in 1990, many of them now live in semi-permanent homes along the road leading into the small town of Mossapula, albeit still in their traditional round, igloo-like huts made from twigs and leaves.

They have their own distinctive language, and their hypnotic polyphonic music has was recorded by the anthropologist Louis Sarno in the 2000 album “BOYOBI: Ritual Music of the Rainforest Pygmies.”

“Things are changing now,” Bangala said. “But for these people, like is almost the same as it has been for thousands of years, except they wear Western clothing instead of leaves and bark like they used to.”

While it might seem primitive, we could learn a lot from the Ba’Aka. In these times of #MeToo, the ancient Ba’Aka culture is one of the most gender-neutral cultures in the world, with almost no differentiation between male and female roles. Childcare is split almost evenly, with men feeding and watching young children as much as the women do. Men will often stay home with babies while women find work on nearby plantations.

Both sexes hunt, clean and gather necessities from the forest, and there is only one non-negotiable gender-specific task: house building.

“That is women’s work,” Bangala noted. “Men will not build the house.”

The Ba’Aka also have deep respect for their elders. “The family will all hunt together. If the children are school age, grandparents will take care of them while the parents hunt,” Bangala said.

“They are holding on to 70 to 80 percent of their culture right now,” he added. At least until the forest disappears.

If you want to hunt with the Ba’Aka, contact The African Adventure Company.

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In August, after climbing up the side of a vertical volcano for hours, past elephant tracks, golden monkeys and elusive buffalo, through thick bamboo and eucalyptus forests filled with red ants, stinging nettles and aggressive mosquitoes, I finally came face-to-face with Igisha family of mountain gorillas — the largest group of gorillas in Rwanda. They are 34 of the 1,004 mountain gorillas left on earth.

At first hidden in the brush, the family suddenly appeared, napping and lazing around after their morning meal.

Five mature male silverbacks sat separately, surrounded by their immediate clan of female gorillas, sub-adults (or teen gorillas) and babies. They barely acknowledged me and my fellow trekkers.

One mother nursed her 6-day-old child as four other babies — old enough to clamber around on their own — played in a nest constructed around her feet. An adult female gorilla sucked her thumb as she slept while others calmly plucked bugs out of each other’s backs. It was a quiet, almost pastoral scene that was earth-shattering to the humans watching.

Gorillas on the edge

Perhaps because just a few years ago, these animals, which share 98 percent of our DNA, were almost banished from the planet due to poaching, loss of habitat and human encroachment. In 2010, the population was classified as critically endangered with only 480 gorillas left. Today, after concerted conservation efforts, they have bounced back to over 1,000 and have been re-classified as endangered.

Dian Fossey, who dedicated her life to these gorillas, once said, “Conservation of any endangered species must begin with stringent efforts to protect its natural habitat by the enforcement of rigid legislation against human encroachment into parks and other game sanctuaries.”

Paula FroelichTrekking to see the mountain gorillas of Rwanda.

Nowhere is that more understood than in Rwanda, the central African country that has emerged like a phoenix from the ashes of a horrific civil war and genocide 25 years ago.

For more than a decade, the government has dedicated resources to buying back farmland in and around the park, training former poachers and farmers to work with the gorillas and building infrastructure to support the gorillas. Eco-tourism now accounts for 60 percent of Rwanda’s economy.

Conservation

The government has also partnered with eco-conscious companies like Singita, a conservation-based hospitality company which just opened Kwitonda Lodge and Kataza House near the town of Kinigi at the foot of the Volcanoes National Park. The property includes 178 acres that Singita purchased around the national park, and plans are in the works to buy more farms that encroach on the volcanoes.

“We’ve created this buffer zone,” said Brad Murray, who along with his wife Kate, is co-general manager of the property. “Our plan is to extend this, the National Park to us. That is our plan, to keep going, and to take farmlands and bring them back into wildlife habitat.”

He went on: “We have replanted 20,000 trees and are aiming for 250,000 — and we’ve already had gorillas coming onto the property. One day we had 400 workers on site and we were walking when everyone just stopped, put down their tools, and were just staring … a family of gorillas was walking across the buffer, just playing and rolling in the grass. So who knows? In two, three years when the reforestation program happens, we feel we could get a lot of gorillas down to the lodges.”

On the Trek

Until the day the gorillas come down from the mountain, visitors will continue to trek, an experience that costs $1,500 a day per person — but is worth every penny. The hike itself can take up to five hours, depending on where the family you are assigned to has moved. One minute you are caught in a chilly downpour. The next you’re slogging through a sunny and hot forest. Eight people are relegated to a group, which is assigned to visit a gorilla family for exactly one hour only. You’re led by a team that consists of professional guides, trackers and porters — many of them former poachers.

Part of the cost of the trek is dedicated to retraining locals to work with gorillas. This includes farmers, whose lands have been reclaimed, as well as poachers. On my hike my porter was a former poacher. Via our guide Charles, he explained, “It was a way to make money — but this is better. The work is regular and we make more.”

Once we reached the gorillas, Charles went through the basic rules. “You must always maintain a distance of three meters, and if they come towards you — move back,” he said. “Sometimes the babies or young adults will be curious and try and touch you, but do not touch back — just be still.”

And for an hour, my fellow trekkers and I witnessed some of the greatest beasts in the world.

The post Trekking with the Mountain Gorillas of Rwanda appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

As long as there have been people in Scotland, there has been Scotch whiskey, but it wasn’t big business until the 19th century when it became legal—and profitable. Today, there are over 120 distilleries across five regions (Campbeltown, Highland, Islay, the Lowlands and Speyside). And business is booming as a whiskey renaissance continues to take hold in America.

In recent years, whiskey-specific bars have opened their doors in cities like New York, Chicago and Los Angeles to millennials who pour in for a taste of the good stuff. The revival has led to travel demand to see how it’s made. According to the Scotch Whisky Association (SWA), a record 1.9 million tourists visited Scottish whiskey distilleries in 2018 (up from 1.6 million in 2017)—the majority of which came from Germany and the United States—and numbers for 2019 are expected to be even higher.

It’s such a big business that the liquor and spirits giant Diageo, which owns Lagavulin, said in 2018 that it would invest $190 million over the next three years to “transform” what it offers to Scotch-drinking tourists.

Of course, I had to check out this phenomenon for myself. Last May, I headed straight to Islay—the small, windswept island in the southern Hebrides, just off the west coast of Scotland and 25 miles north of Ireland.

In Search of Single-Malt

Islay is not only a wildly beautiful island with fields of bluebells, ancient forests and miles of virgin beaches—it is also home to nine of Scotland’s most famous distilleries, which make all of the country’s famed, and pricey, peated single-malt whisky.

I took a flight from Glasgow to the island, and upon arriving I went immediately to the modern home of craft whisky, the Bruichladdich distillery located on the western side of the island on the shores of Loch Indaal.

Bruichladdich has technically been around since 1881, but by the time it was purchased in 2001 by wine distributors Mark Reynier and Simon Coughlin, it had been shut down for over six years.

Wanting to keep production small, the historic Victorian equipment and warehouses were reassembled and refurbished. Reynier and Coughlin committed to handcrafted production with a twist—using an innovative range of barrels, especially wine casks from vineyards, to age their whiskey. (As opposed to ex-bourbon and sherry barrels more typically used in Scotch production.)
The venture was such a success that in 2012 it was sold to Remy Cointreau for about $74 million with the stipulation that the craft distilling process would continue.

Today, Bruichladdich is the second largest employer on the island, behind the local government, and attempts to use all local products, including spring water and barley from a local farmer, James Brown, or the “Godfather of Soil” as he is known.
Back to School

OK, sounds like a great visit, right? But what if the only thing you know about whiskey is that it’s brown and good? Might be a good idea to study up before you visit.

Me? I was schooled by the master distiller, Adam Hannett. Here’s what I learned.
For one thing: whiskey tasting is similar to wine tasting—but different! You can get obsessed with some of the same things like terroir, the ingredients, the process of turning fruit or grain into alcohol as well as the taste and flavors of the final product. But whiskey tasting isn’t the same. Wine, you spit. whisky you…swallow.

To be sure, it’s not like you end up sideways from single malt whiskey. Not that you can’t, of course, but Scotch isn’t supposed to be chugged or mixed, or drunk in a hurry. It is meant to be sipped and savored slowly as the flavors come alive on your tongue—and burn a smooth path down your throat. “A great whiskey will open slowly, and taste different on your palate from one second to the next,” Hannett told me.

And each brand of whiskey and each cask, same label or not, will have a distinct, singular flavor. “Islay has several micro-ecosystems,” Hannett said. “And because we do everything by hand—and not with preset ingredients and instructions—and because our ingredients are mostly from Islay, every batch will be different.”
He added: “There’s a connection there that feels right, that we took barley from that farm, we distilled it here, we aged it here, we bottled it here, and released it to the world.”

That day, I tried the company’s eponymous unpeated whiskey Bruichladdich, and the heavily peated Port Charlotte—both of which are fruitier, almost peachy; and Octomore, which they boast is the most heavily peated whiskey in the world. Although it has a calmer taste than I’d expected, the peat still smokes in the mouth, but it doesn’t punch you in the throat.

Road Warrior

The next day, I hitched a ride with the Godfather of Soil, Mr. Brown, to cut peat and draw water from the well, in between feeding his herds of long-haired Highland cows.

What is peat? As we drove into the bogs, Brown explained.

“Peat is the younger, wetter version of coal—it’s made up of decomposed trees, shrubs, everything all just compressed,” he explained. “Up until recently everyone on the island used it to heat their homes in the winter, make tea and smoke the whiskey.”

I learned that it’s messy hard work cutting bricks of peat out of the ground—and it can also be dangerous. The ground is spongy and unstable, and things left overnight can disappear into the quicksand-like bogs, never to be seen again.

Luckily, the Godfather knew his way around, and we came out of the excursion unscathed before visiting the underground spring that is the source for all Bruichladdich whiskey.

MY ADVICE

Places to Pass Out and where to go next

The next few days were spent driving between the other eight distilleries on the islands, sampling whiskeys, roaming the pristine beaches—and doing the famed whiskey walk. It starts in Port Charlotte and curves up the southeast coast through a moss-green forest and past a 13th-century castle, linking the three most famous distilleries: Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig.

In terms of planning a trip, there’s plenty of advice out there, but here are a few of my recommendations.

Where to Stay: Try Islay House, this hotel is a fully refurbished 18th century estate set in fields of bluebells with views of Loch Indaal, or the Machrie Hotel, a five-star hotel set in the dunes of Laggan Bay that also boasts a D.J. It is also worth noting that if you are coming in from Glasgow, you should stay at the elegant Blythswood Square Hotel – a destination in and of itself.

Getting There: Do not drive! Many travelers will be tempted to rent a car and drive from Glasgow. While the drive is indeed beautiful, it is a long and windy drive. Not to mention that driving and whiskey tasting don’t mix. Spend the night at the Kimpton Blythswood Square Hotel in Glasgow as I did, and take an early morning flight into Islay from Glasgow (or take a bus and a ferry) and hire a taxi. Many of the local drivers are available for the entire day and have lived on the island their whole lives so are full of good stories and are happy to drive you from distillery to distillery making scenic pit stops along the way.

More whisky: While Islay is the most easily identified Scotch-producing area, there are four other major whiskey-producing regions in Scotland. Campbeltown is right near Islay, and it’s Scotland’s smallest Scotch producing region with just three distilleries known for their malt: Springbank, Glen Scotia and Glengyle. Highland is the largest whiskey-producing region in the country. The rugged region in the north has 47 distilleries, including Dalmore, Glenmorangie and Brora. Lowland: Located in the southernmost part of Scotland, the whiskeys are light and sweet. Famed distillers include Auchentoshan, Rosebank and Glenkinchie. Speyside is sandwiched in between the wild Highlands and the farms of Aberdeenshire; the region takes its name from the River Spey. Set in one of the most beautiful regions of Scotland, Speyside is also home to the most famous distillers (Glenlivet, Glenfiddich and Macallan) as well as another whiskey walk, The Malt Whisky Trail.

The post Ambling Along the Ancient Whiskey Walk in Islay appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

It’s not every day that the president of a country comes to a hotel opening. Yet, on August 1, Paul Kagame, the President of Rwanda and his entourage drove the two and half hours up from Kigali to the new Singita Kwitonda Lodge and Kataza House in Kinigi, Rwanda, and did just that.

It was the culmination of a five-year friendship between the owners of Singita and the Rwandan Government – and the building of one of the most sustainable lodges in Africa that is committed to conservation. Set on 178 acres on the edge of Volcanoes National Park, Kwitonda Lodge boasts eight luxurious suites, while Kataza House, an exclusive-use villa, features four spacious suites – all made mostly with local materials and employing local vendors and townspeople.

The Singita Kwitonda Lodge sits at the foot of three volcanoes.Singita

Reforestation

The lodge has committed to extensive reforestation initiatives in Rwanda, helping to increase the range and numbers of endangered mountain gorillas in Volcanoes National Park. While 178 acres have already been purchased around the national park, plans are in the works to buy more farms that encroach on the volcanoes.

“We’ve created this buffer zone,” Brad Murray, who along with his wife Kate are co-general managers of the property, said. “Our plan is to extend this, the National Park to us. This buffer will eventually be treed like the National Park. That is our plan to keep going, and to take farmlands and bring them back into wildlife habitat.

Much of the land and foothills surrounding the Volcanoes National Park has been deforested and farmed. The Rwandan government and Singita are buying it back to enlarge the park and create a buffer zone between animals and humans. Singita

“We have replanted 20,000 trees and are aiming for 250,000 – and we’ve already had gorillas coming onto the property,” Murray said. “One day we had 400 workers on site and we were walking when everyone just stopped, put down their tools, and were just staring … a family of gorillas was walking across the buffer, just playing and rolling in the grass. So who knows? In two, three years when the reforestation program happens, we feel we could get a lot of gorillas down to the lodges.”

A mature silverback gorilla keeping a lookout. Paula Froelich

The opening of Singita Kwitonda Lodge and Kataza House also bring much-needed attention to the plight of the gorillas. While the mountain gorillas are an example of an extreme success story – they are still in need of protection. In 2010, the population was classified as critically endangered with just 480 gorillas left. Today, after concerted conservation efforts, they have bounced back to over 1,000 and are now classified as endangered.

And the Rwandan government has been a huge part of this conservation effort. Tourism now accounts for sixty percent of the country’s economy and the government is eager to expand tourism and the park by partnering with eco-conscious companies.

“The Rwandan government has made it quite clear that they are on a mission to increase the footprint of the National Park so the gorillas can increase their habitat,” Murray said.

There are gorillas in those mountains… Singita

Singita Founder and Executive Chairman, Luke Bailes said, “It’s an absolute dream to expand our conservation footprint in Rwanda – a beautiful country with a remarkable conservation success story. Contributing to the Government’s enormous efforts to protect the country’s wildlife is both a privilege and a serious responsibility. We’re thrilled with the elegant, exceptionally sustainable lodges we’ve created here. They allow guests to connect deeply with nature in the heart of Africa, after a humbling encounter with the gorillas.”

The Ultimate Luxury

But this isn’t any old eco-property. The Singita is a luxurious getaway fit for Presidents.

The sun sets behind Volcanoes National Park at Singita Kwitonda. Singita

Nestled at the foot of the Sabyinyo, Gahinga and Muhabura volcanoes, the property is an architectural feat that is the height of African sophistication. Guest suites boast cozy couches, indoor and outdoor fireplaces and heated plunge pools, and the delectable cuisine is farm-to-table. More than 500 local artisans and builders were involved in the project crafting volcanic walls, impressive woven ceilings and hand-fired terracotta brickwork, ensuring an authentic translation of local culture into key elements, adding a significant boost to local employment and businesses.

The bedrooms at the Kwitonda lodges also have reading nooks with mountain views. Singita

The overall effect is strong and captivating, yet soothing, enhancing the experience of encountering gorilla families in their natural habitat. Even better, the company offers trekking gear on-site – including waterproof jacket, pants, gators and even boots – so you can literally show up with a carry on and hike into the forest catching a glimpse of endangered Golden Monkeys, buffalo and elephants along the way.

In addition to the gorillas, the national park is full of buffalo, elephant and the endangered Golden Monkeys.Singita

“We are not a hospitality company – we are a conservation company,” Murray said. “We’re more interested about what we’re going to do in the protection of this National Park and the gorillas and the local fauna and flora, and the local communities than we are about purely putting bums in beds. So we need the bums and beds, we need you guys to come out and spend your money. And obviously the rates are not cheap, but we hope that the product that we put to you guys is of an acceptable standard and you’re getting good value for money for the product you’re getting in a far-flung country in the middle of Africa. I think it’s quite unique.”

And it is.

baby gorilla rwanda

A baby gorilla relaxes in his mother’s arms.

A baby gorilla relaxes in his mother’s arms.

The post Singita Opens New Eco-Lodge in Rwanda appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

It’s not often you meet someone who can turn garbage into gold. Yet in the small town of Mfuwe, just outside Zambia’s Luangwa National Park, an artist is performing just such alchemy.

Frederick Phiri is the junk-art king of central Africa: At just 22, he’s started to earn an international reputation for being able to make intricate and elegant sculptures from scrap metal found in his community. 

As it is with most of life, his talent was aided by good timing—and luck that came from tragedy.

Tragedy Strikes

“My father died when I was starting [primary] school,” Phiri tells Newsweek. “So my mother and sisters moved to Lusaka and I stayed behind with my grandfather.”

Phiri’s grandfather paid for his schooling through primary school but when he entered secondary school, he had to get odd jobs to pay for his fees. But even in school, “I was always drawing and making things in class,” Phiri says. 

After graduating, he did what he could to support himself in a country where the average annual salary is $1,500. He made animal sculptures from snare wires and sold them to tourists. His work was so popular, it caught the eye of Karen Beattie, director of Project Luangwa, a nonprofit dedicated to education and economic development in Mfuwe. 

 “I introduced him to a local welder as an apprentice,” Beattie told Newsweek. 

A Career Takes Off

In 2017, Phiri apprenticed with welder Moses Mbewe during the rainy season, helping to make an intricate set of doors for Project Luangwa. The piece sparked an idea in Beattie’s mind: “I handed him a bunch of metal scrap and said, ‘Make something with this.’ And he did. It was wonderful.”

Today, Phiri continues his art, using pieces of junk people bring him—keys, broken bike chains, old spark plugs and whatever scrap metal is lying around. (And there is a lot of it.)  He then turns the detritus into abstract animals—elephants, cranes, giraffes, chameleons—and sells them at Project Luangwa headquarters. The community has recognized his talents and his de-facto community clean-up project.

“My dream is to earn enough study art at the Evelyn Hone College in Lusaka and be able to make a living from it,” Phiri said. 

The post The Junk Artist of Zambia appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

“Do you have a death wish?” “Are you crazy?” “Did you make out your will?” These were all questions posed to me by friends, family, and neighbors when I told them I was off to South Luangwa National Park in Zambia to take a walking safari, where, instead of seeing wildlife from the relative safety confines of a tricked out Jeep, I would be traversing the grasslands on foot. Regular safaris – once you get past the initial excitement of seeing your first lion, zebra, leopard, rhino, or elephant in the wild – are safe (or at least safer as you are in the confines of a metal structure) but can be… challenging.

A normal day in a safari camp goes like this: Wake up at dawn, have breakfast, get in a truck and go find some animals for up to four hours. Return to camp, have lunch, take a siesta and go back out for an evening drive at around 4 p.m. During the evening drive, you will likely stop at some beautiful spot with expansive views of the sunset for a “Sundowner” – a drink next to the vehicle. This is usually the only point during the drive in which you are allowed out of the truck. After drinks are drunk and the sun has set, you re-enter the vehicle and try to spot night hunts, returning to camp around 8 p.m. for supper. Repeat this schedule for the next few days until you leave.

At first, it is exciting. Visitors get to see every animal they’ve ever heard of or spied on the small screen.

But by the third day, seven to eight hours in a vehicle can wear on one’s patience. And the unimaginable happens – what was initially so exciting becomes quickly mundane. Especially if you don’t come across a pride of lions or any actual action.

Having gone on several regular safaris in the past, my interest was piqued by the latest adventure trend of walking or in some cases, horseback riding, safaris. So, I booked a trip with Robin Pope Safaris at the Nkweli camp outside of Mfuwe, Zambia.

The camp lies on the Luangwa River – a wide body of water full of large crocodiles and raging hippos that is the natural border to the South Luangwa National Park. Several times a year, the company will do a multi-day walking safari, where guests walk from one end of the park to another and stay in temporarily erected tents. While that was not on offer during my stay – I could still walk through a lively part of the bush.

The first day I opted for a traditional Jeep safari – and became concerned about what would happen on foot when our car was surrounded by a pride of large, muscular lions.

“Does this happen when we walk through the bush?” I asked nervously.

Fred Phiri, 37, a manager and guide at Robin Pope Walking Safaris, has been doing walking tours almost every day for over a decade, said, “I have seen almost everything on foot – lions, leopards, angry elephants, and buffalo – but no one has ever been attacked. It’s all in the preparation and how we behave when we’re out there.”

“Good to know,” I said. Not fully convinced.

That being said, there are some precautions to take when strolling out into the bush for a walking safari:

1. Always start out early in the morning. In the mornings, the predators are presumable sated from catching and killing some prey the night before and trying to catch some sleep. Therefore, they are less likely to surround you and rip your throat out. This is a good thing.

2. You can walk for as long as you like but should stop around 3 p.m. when the predators wake up from long naps and start to realize they might be hungry again. I ended up walking for around four hours every day and was happy to head back once the midday sun went into full effect.

3. Wear muted colors

4. Walk in a single file line. At the head of the line will be a guard from the National Park services who carries a rifle (just in case). Behind him is the head guide, the visitors and finally, another guide.

5. Keep voices low. If you talk too loudly all the animals will run off.

6. If you should happen upon a pride of lions (and we did) – stop. Group together and follow the guide and guard’s suggestion (which usually means be quiet and move slowly out of the way).

7. Drink plenty of water. In the mornings it is cool but it heats up real quick! Dehydration is real and there’s nothing worse than being stuck out in the bush with dry mouth.

8. Avoid all bodies of water – they are likely full of crocodiles and hippos.

9. Be aware of what’s in the trees and the tall grass. Lions and leopards are masters at camouflage and often, unless you are a trained expert (which, thankfully, your guides are), you won’t notice them until you are literally on them. Or under them.

10. While big cats may be the scariest animals, elephants, buffalo, and hippos are just as – if not more- dangerous. Keep a good distance from them at all times.

11. Relax and have fun.

Safari Out in Wild

The first day on foot was relatively calm. Fred led me through the bush and from distances I spotted impala, puku and other antelope, but it was more about what Fred called “behind the scenes.” He taught me how to identify scat – important signs to know where animals have been, what they are eating and if they are healthy – different trees, ground plants and other parts of the ecosystem. We went through a vast area of dead trees and stumps left over from the poaching in the 1970s and 1980s.

“There used to be over 100,000 elephants and 4,000 black rhino in this park,” Fred said. “The elephants are very destructive. They will eat the bark of trees and rub against them until they fall down. However, through their scat, the trees get replanted. In less than ten years starting in 1976, 90 percent of the elephant population and 100 percent of the rhino population were wiped out but poaching and this area never recovered. It never got the chance to get replanted.”

Today, the elephant population is coming back – there are now over 26,000 elephants in the park and there is talk of bringing back the rhino, which is a contentious issue.

“If they bring rhino into the park, they will have to be under 24-hour guard and poachers will come back,” Fred explained. “Not everyone is okay with that.”

We Hit Paydirt

On the second day of walking, we hit paydirt. We followed a group of impala to a small herd of giraffe who allowed us to get relatively close. Suddenly, they galloped off and, in the distance, baboons started barking.

“Lions are near,” Fred said. Ahead of us, in tall grass, a pride of lions was lounging, camouflaging perfectly into their surroundings.

My heart was pumping. Our guard had his shotgun at the ready just in case, but it only had four bullets. There were five in the pride.

Following protocol, we silently grouped together, and slowly circumvented the pride.

It was thrilling. And fascinating. And as we made our way back to camp, we caught a herd of impala and zebra, walking single file, just like us, the other way.

It felt as if I had become part of the bush, part of the daily drama of life and death in the Luangwa crater. And that was worth it all.

The post How to Survive a Walking Safari in Africa appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

I’ve always said life is about timing and lighting — and you can only control one (which is why you will never catch me at a restaurant with fluorescent lighting and no dimmers).

This theory is true for most things, but even more so for lunar rainbows, or “moonbows”: rare, natural wonders that appear as if by magic during a full moon typically near waterfalls or after thunderstorms. It is also for many people, an awe-inspiring event that will happen maybe once in a lifetime — unless you are a guest at the Anantara Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia, where, every month after the rainy season, if the sky is clear, you can witness this ephemeral event. And you can do so comfortably ensconced under the ancient Mutondo tree on the hotel’s deck over the mighty Zambezi River listening to Victoria Falls roaring in the background.

I was one of the lucky few for whom timing and lighting came together for two nights in May during a trip to Livingstone, Zambia, where traffic stops for herds of elephants crossing the road and there is a jewel of a hotel perched on the lip of one of the natural wonders of the world.

Related: Taking a Microflight over Victoria Falls

Located inside the UNESCO wildlife park Mosi-Oa-Tunya, the Royal Livingstone is a haven from the outside world.

Arriving on a river boat as if out of a scene in the “African Queen,” you are greeted by Edward, the hotel’s cultural concierge and a huge rainbow which fills the sky over the nearby falls.

While the hotel was just built in 2001, it was done in such a way that it feels like a layover from a far gone era. The main building resembles an old hunting lodge, with old growth trees dotting the lawn and a pool where guests can swim and sunbathe in full view of the Falls. The hotel proudly touts its eco advantages, none of which are more enjoyable than the hotel’s famed herd of zebras, impalas, and four giraffes that act as reliable lawn mowers and tree trimmers.

During my stay I rode horseback through the Mosi-Oa-Tunya park, had a four-course, five-star meal on a historic restored steam train, which ferried us over the Victoria Falls Bridge and visited the nearby Mukuni village. My heart also stopped when I agreed to take a micro flight with Batoka Sky — where I flew over the falls, the gorges, and the Zambezi in what was basically a paraglider outfitted with a lawn mower engine. It’s safer than it sounds or looks. I swear.

And on the final night, I joined my friends for a river safari, an experience you read about and can’t believe it is a wondrous as it is — until you do it. While there are fancier options in larger boats with two decks, a full bar and hand carved wooden chairs, my friends and I opted for a smaller transport that seated just 10 so we could get up close and personal with the wildlife. And we were not disappointed.

Related: Travel Tips for Traveling to Africa with Paula and Elizabeth

During the hour long ride, we spotted huge crocodiles, flocks of colorful bee eater birds, river eagles, a pod of yawning hippos, and a herd of elephants with a baby splashing in the shallows. As the sun sank into the horizon setting fire to the sky and the Falls roared a kilometer downstream — my friend Elizabeth made a toast. “To a life changing experience,” she said, raising her gin and tonic.

I’ll cheers to that.

The post Catching a Moonbow Over Victoria Falls appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

“I just want to get away from it all and escape to a private island,” is a common refrain these days. It seems like now more than ever we all need a place to unwind, unplug and just … breathe. And there is no more perfect place in the world to do so in comfort than Medjumbe Island. Located off the northern coast of Mozambique, in the Quirimbas Archipelago, Medjumbe — a small, teardrop shaped island only 300 kilometers long — is home to the luxury Anantara Medjumbe Island Resort.

The exclusive getaway is comprised of just 12 eco-friendly oceanfront bungalows, each with their own plunge pool and outdoor showers.

I decided to visit the isle at the height of the shoulder season in May — in the midst of an anxiety attack that, for me, usually foreshadows the beginning of summer. Just two hours from Johannesburg, I boarded a private helicopter in Pembe, Mozambique, and, as the mainland floated away and we flew over tiny islands off the coast, my stomach began to unclench. By the time we touched down on Medjumbe, 30 minutes later, I was in awe. Medjumbe is everything you’ve ever imagined — or seen on Instagram — and more.

Every color of blue that ever existed swirls in the ocean and sky with just the sparkling white sandbars dotted with mangrove forest and lush tropical greenery in between. From the moment I disembarked the helicopter, time (and my blood pressure) seemed to slow.

“Karibu,” the Swahili word for welcome, was etched into the sand just outside my hut and it was an apt sentiment as the staff bent over backwards to accommodate any request and the whole of the hotel’s water sports facilities, gear and instructors were available at any time.

In the mornings before breakfast, I would hike around the island, visiting the old Portuguese lighthouse — an abandoned archeological remnant from the time of the slave trade — and walk out onto the ocean floor laid bare by the tide.

Later, I’d set sail for nearby uninhabited islands to fish or snorkel through the immaculate coral reefs, joined occasionally by dolphin pods. After an afternoon nap there were sundowner cocktails on the beach or on an ancient Arab dhow — powered only by the wind — before dining on freshly caught tuna, squid, shrimp and other seafood prepared by the in house chef.

All was a prelude to the real show as the Milky Way came into view and shooting stars blazed across the sky, seemingly so close, they were within reach of my outstretched hand — before being lulled to sleep by the high tide outside my door.

Clocks were not necessary, my phone was checked just once a day, paper books were actually read, and for the first time in years I felt like I was on an actual vacation. Far away from anyone I knew and everything I was overly familiar with, I had time to catch my breath and reflect.

On the final night, after lunch on a nearby island and a deep tissue massage, I and other guests were treated to a bonfire barbeque on the beach where we swapped stories of our lives and adventures.

The next day as I prepared to leave — and other lucky guests arrived — I realized that in just four days, my pre-summer anxiety attack had been washed away and my inner rhythm reset. And while I was sad to go, Medjumbe had healed me in a way I had not anticipated and I was prepared — mentally and physically — to go back and face the daily battles of New York City. And that, to me, was worth every penny.

The post Get Away From it all at Medjumbe, The Private Island Sanctuary in Mozambique appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

some seriously awesome pics from the flight in the gallery here:

The post Taking a Microflight Over Victoria Falls appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

Let me just say up front: I have never wanted to go to Abu Dhabi. Actually, to be completely correct, I’ve never been tempted to step out of the city-state’s airport during transit or transfer. There was no need for me to. It was a hastily constructed city built for business on a 1990’s vision of luxury — malls! Mega malls! Ferrariland! Luxury hotels found everywhere else in the world! – while razing to the ground almost any sense of history as the souqs were replaced with Chanel and other brand names that are easily accessible in the U.S.

But, as my mother used to say, “Never say never” – and I found myself booking a four-day stay in the Emirate this January, intrigued with the Louvre Abu Dhabi which opened its doors in November of last year. I’d been mildly obsessed with the new museum since reading The New York Times piece on it, in which Jean-François Charnier, the project’s chief curator and scientific director for Agence France-Museums, said, “What is the Louvre Abu Dhabi? It’s a narrative of humankind from the beginning of knowledge, using art as a witness of the times.”

I reserved two entire days for the museum, and two more for attempting to find archeological sites, cultural activities, and emirati food (a unique blend between Middle Eastern, Indian and African cuisines).

Built on a man-made peninsula, and open to the water on three sides, the museum is an awe-inspiring pan-national ode to globalization. A look at humanity and our history through the art and objects we have made. It is a maze-like walk through history in small interconnected square buildings and shows how, through trade, and growth, humans became inextricably interconnected. How cultures, religions, regions influenced education, science, and art. And how, even though early civilizations were thousands of miles apart, and had never been in contact, there were still striking thematic similarities in their art: maternity figures, the sun, death masks, utilitarian items like water ewers, a fixation on livestock and fertility (be it human or agricultural).

Throughout the galleries – separated into 12 “chapters” of humankind – you physically walk through the evolution of all of us, from the smaller civilizations to the city-states, as they become nations and influenced each other via land and sea trade routes. How our religions are connected and how one “pure” culture is really an amalgam of many.

For some, the museum may be too obvious – putting three similar objects from around the world, made in a similar time frame. Or it may seem that it openly celebrates Islamic art and Arab dominance of mathematics, seafaring and science during the 18th century — but why not? Not many global museums have done this. And frankly, subtlety just seems to confuse most people, especially in the West where many seem unaware of the influence of the Middle East in global culture.

The modern area of the museum was a delight. I laughed out loud at Rene Magritte’s “The Subjugated Reader,” was mesmerized by Osman Hamdy Bey’s “A Young Emir Studying,” and was taken aback by Omar Ba’s “Act 1- Repaire.” Outside is just as inspiring as the inside.

Jenny Holzer’s huge limestone reliefs of cuneiform tablets telling the story of creation set the background for Rodin (and many, many Instagrammers doing pensive or still walking shots). There is Giuseppe Penone’s three-part Germination installation, as well as other smaller, more hidden installations, all under Jean Nouvel’s nest-like dome which, through mathematical genius and trapezoidal shapes, filters the sunlight into a sort of starlight – ever-changing throughout the day. According to the museum’s information packet, it was inspired by the stars that guide the Bedouin in the desert and “pays homage to the vital importance shade in Arabia.”

The effect is akin to visual meditation. It was quiet – except for the sound of the water and birds and the over all effect was like walking through an open air place of worship. The overall effect is an epic experience that left me truly moved and optimistic.

It is an especially poignant and necessary museum, as in this age of cultural isolationism, refugees, wars and uncertainty, the Louvre Abu Dhabi physically shows how not only has this all happened many times over human history – but reassures us that our better instincts should and (hopefully) will prevail.

It aims to (and I believe it does) show how real growth, be it financial, spiritual or cultural, can come only through exchange – not isolationism.

Pity the poor Instagram-addicts (many of who arrive at the museum with assistants or parents in tow to capture their perfect picture) who run through the museum after a few “pensive” pics in front of the Manet, the Monet, or DaVinci (along with a selfie, natch) and then race through to line up for the perfect shots under the dome, usually perched on the edge of some wall to get the best “water-shot” – and miss the full beauty of the museum. I also felt bad for the tourists who were visiting off of the cruise ships or from the airport and had only a few hours to take it all in, often in the company of a large group.

Because this museum, like a good book, is meant to be mulled over, and revisited time and again.

It has accomplished more than what it set out to do. It has (along with the archeological sites by Al Ain, the fascinating Falcon Hospital) and the made Abu Dhabi – the pre-fab, Miami-esque shopping mecca – an actual destination. And given the world a reason to no longer treat it like a large airport good for a quick stopover.

The post The Louvre Abu Dhabi: More Than a Stopover appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

If you ever find yourself traveling to Africa and wondering, “Hmmm. what are some good travel tips I need to know?” Don’t worry, Elizabeth Kendig who runs Beauty Bets and I were just in Zambia and we got you covered!

Because let’s be honest – everyone needs to go to Africa at least ONCE in their life – to go on safari, see the great wildebeest migration, experience the vast cultures of the continent that started it all and possibly even take care of baby rhinos at a rhino orphanage… truly one of the most magical experiences EVER.

So get to going! and don’t forget to light some elephant poo if the mosquitos get too close (see video).

xoxo,

Pfro

The post #traveltips for Africa with Paula and Elizabeth appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

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In Canyon County, Idaho, just 27 miles west of the capital, Boise, is the town of Caldwell. Lying in a valley along the Snake River and settled directly below the monolithic Lizard Butte, Caldwell has always been known for its famed Night Rodeo.

But these days, oenophiles are taking a second look at the community, which has, in the last few years, started producing some of the most surprisingly tasty wines in the U.S.

And until recently, almost no one, outside of industry insiders and West Coast enthusiasts, had heard of it.

Related: Inside Ojai

“You’re going where? For wine?” my friend Josie Zeiger, a New York City-based wine distributor who runs the wine-centric instagram, @sipculture, asked when I told her I was going to do a wine-tasting tour in Caldwell, Idaho.

It was not an uncommon reaction — even from people in Idaho.

Amy Bitner, who co-owns Bitner Vineyards with her father Ron, laughed, “People in Nampa (just 13 miles away) don’t even know we’re here.”

But, thanks to a dedicated group of farmers, winemakers and dedicated fans that is starting to change.

In order to grow grapes successfully a perfect storm of natural events has to happen. You need the right soil and the right weather, all of which can be found in the Snake River Valley.

One of my first stops, after checking into my Airbnb house, was at Koenig Vineyards. Owned by architect and winemaker Greg Koenig and established in 1995, the wine tasting rooms, cellars and winemaking facilities are housed in a large Tuscan-esque villa surrounded by 14 acres of Cabernet Syrah, Syrah, Cabernet, Viognet, Riesling and Chardonnay grapes. Sitting in the tower of his Tuscan villa, Koenig, who makes many of the wines for the grape growers in the region, noted, “The soil is good – its sediment left over from when the entire area was covered by the Snake River (thousands of years ago) – totally different soil than what is in Boise, or even Nampa.”

The area lies along a stretch of extinct volcanoes and, due to the river and the valley, the area has a microclimate that is great for grapes: cold during the winter, hot and dry during the summer. Idaho also has the added benefit of not being as expensive as the coastal states, which has attracted non-traditional vineyard owners, or people who always dreamed of a vineyard in more expensive West Coast areas, but were priced out decades ago.

“The barrier to entry in the Idaho wine scene is quite low,” Koenig said. “The land is cheaper, it is cheaper to farm and word is getting out.”

Word reached people like Tim and Helen Harless, owners of the Hat Ranch Vineyard down the road from Koenig, who moved to the area from Texas in 2010 after he retired from the Air Force.

“The kids had graduated and we were thinking of what to do,” Tim said. “Helen used to write about wine and we were interested in owning and operating a vineyard — so we looked at doing a vineyard in California, Washington, and Oregon, and then found Idaho.”

By 2012 the couple debuted their first bottle of Chardonnay and they now produce 3,000 cases of multiple varieties a year. Last year the vineyard’s dry Muscato won a gold medal from the San Francisco Chronicle.

Not that that should be so surprising.

Hadley Robertson, who owns Zhoo Zhoo wines with her sisters — part of the Hells Canyon Winery owned by her parents, Steve and Leslie Robertson — said, “Idaho started at the same time as Washington and Oregon — they got larger quicker and caught on faster because of the population and those state’s larger cities. But our wine is just as good, if not better.”

It’s turning into big business: There are now 51 vineyards in the state and, according to the Idaho Wine Commission, the wine regions in the state have brought in $169.3 million and created over 1200 hundred jobs. Of the eight vineyards I visited, all were organic, sustainable family run and there was an average 20 percent year over year growth for the wineries. They all produced between 1,000-4,000 cases a year on average and sold out of product within six to eight months, mostly from local wine clubs.

“We sell off our back deck, mostly to our wine club members or people on wine tasting trips,” Ron Bitner said. It’s a booming business for everyone, with up to 100 visitors a day during the week and over 200 on the weekends.

As I sat on the back porch of my Airbnb on my final night in Caldwell watching the shooting stars put on a show and sampling the earthy floral, spicy and dynamic Cabernet Franc from Hells Canyon Vineyards, I felt like I’d been let in on a true secret. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

So grab some friends, book a rental, and sample the wines of the Snake River Valley. Sample the wines during the day and take in a rodeo in at night or just watch the stars — for a perfect trip into the heart of America’s secret wine valley.

(During my three day stay in the Valley, I fell in love with a lot of wines. But a special call out to the syrah from Williamson Orchards & Vineyards, the Tempranillo at Bitner, the Cabernet Franc from Hells Canyon and the rose at Indian Creek. I will dream of the Hat Ranch’s dry Moscato.)

Vineyards I visited:

Bitner Vineyards

16645 Plum Road, Caldwell, Idaho 83605

Koenig Vineyards

1452 Hoskins Rd, Caldwell, ID 83607

HAT Ranch Winery

15343 Plum Rd, Caldwell, ID 83607

Indian Creek Winery

1000 N. McDermott Rd., Kuna, ID

SCORIA Vineyards & Winery

12639 Walker Rd., Caldwell, Idaho

Hells Canyon Winery

18835 Symms Road, Caldwell, ID

Williamson Orchards & Vineyards

14807 Sunnyslope Road, Caldwell, ID

This article originally appeared in Travel + Leisure.

The post The Secret Idaho Wine Valley You’ve Never Heard Of appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

Imagine living in a city where it is the norm to work more than 100 hours of (unpaid) overtime a month. Where the cost of living is so high you have to live either in a tiny box apartment or miles away from your job. Where working yourself to death (via strokes, heart attacks or suicides) happens on such a regular basis that the government has declared it a national health crisis. And where this phenomenon is so common there is even a name for it: karoshi.

Welcome to Tokyo.

“There aren’t a lot of great jobs available,” my friend Tatsuro Nishimura, a Japanese photographer now lives in New Jersey, told me, adding employers have the upper hand. “When you sign the employment contract many of them will have 20 hours of overtime in the contract… but the reality is much more.”

The Japanese commitment to work (or the company) especially in Tokyo has been blamed for Japan’s staggeringly low marriage and birth rates – because how you gonna get married and have sex when you’re at the office all the time? – high suicide rates and death related to lack of sleep.

While the government is aware of the problems – in April it (unhelpfully) capped the legal overtime limit to 100 hours, has put suicide prevention bars along the subway stops and other measures that don’t actually address the root of the problem – the private sector has over the past decade, invested in capsule hotels, which offer Japanese businessmen and women coffin-like spaces to crash in at rock bottom, hourly  prices. These days they also attract the budget tourists – but the average customer is still an overworked, completely stressed out office worker.

Related: Disappearing Japan

To try and get some sleep (and not die), the Japanese have long turned to capsule hotels where stressed out workers can book a cubby hole to sleep in hourly, for up to eight hours.

I visited the Anshin Oyado hotel in Shinjuku, Tokyo’s busiest train station that has over 750,000 people passing through it each day. To combat sexual harassment, unwanted cubicle guests, prostitution and other issues that could conceivably come up with a room jam packed with hidey holes, the capsule hotels are almost all single sex – or have separate floors for men and women. The Anshin Oyado is a male hotel. But they let me in anyway. Which, I am aware, is not saying much for my feminine allure. We’ll move on.

Related: Japan: 13 Weird Things to Know Before You Go

Room rates were right up my cheap ass alley – around $110 a night and included (according to the website): “a ticket of a dance show by men, women and transwomen dancers at a theater restaurant ROPPONGI KINGYO… It will offer a superior performance consists of beautiful light and darkness! The special dancers and the stage move around (of course, dancers, and even the stage will be moving!) will give you great experience in Tokyo. You will see great performance themed everything called NEO KABUKI. After that, you can enjoy conversation with many fascinate actors.”

Sadly, I had a claustrophobia attack while having visions of being buried alive so… I missed the show due to an immediate check out. But I did get some footage before I left. Enjoy!

Note: On the bright side, it’s Japan so everything was clean, nothing smelled (except a faint hint of cigarettes, but again, this is Japan) and there were lots of amenities every where (yes, I took a plastic fold up hairbrush). So yeah, if you don’t mind the whole industrialization of humanity/harvesting/Matrix feel then you should TOTALLY go for it. I’m just not gonna go with you.

Post Script: If you have tattoos, you will not be welcome. It’s a cultural thing. In Japan, only criminals and members of the Yakuza Crime Syndicate have tattoos – and outside of “respectable establishments, you will find signs like these:

For the upcoming Olympics, the government has asked everyone to ease up on these rules due to foreign athlete’s love of tats, but regular rules still apply.

The post Inside Tokyo’s Disturbing Capsule Hotels appeared first on A Broad Abroad.

Iceland is all the rage these days. Thanks to a great marketing campaign (“FREE LAYOVER”!), TV shows like “Game of Thrones” and cheap airfares, the tiny Scandinavian island is on everyone’s travel list – as it should be. It’s stunningly beautiful with landscapes seen nowhere else on earth, the people are fascinating (they believe in elves!) and the food is fantastic. Even better, for East Coasters, it’s closer than Los Angeles.

But sometimes too much of a good thing is not great – especially on an island where the population (around 350,000) is dwarfed by the amount of tourists (over 1.7 million last year). This problem is exacerbated when the epicenter of the country’s tourism is disproportionately located in one area – the Golden Circle. Home of the black beaches, glaciers and plenty of turf houses dotting the idyllic landscape, this famed section in the South of the island is indeed beautiful – but it’s packed.

Related: Europe’s Prom Queen has a Headache – Iceland is Too Popular

So what’s a girl to do? How do you actually experience the magic of Iceland without having to crop fifty tour busses and throngs of tourists out of your photo? It’s easy: turn your GPS toward Iceland’s East and West coasts.

I recently went on a vintage air rally across the arctic that recreated (in reverse) the supply lines from America to Europe in World War II. As part of that rally, we stopped in Egilsstadir in the East of Iceland and Isafjorder in the West, and I was reminded that some of the best places in Iceland are the ones people don’t go to on a three day layover. So go to Iceland, but take a week and have yourself a magical experience – without the crowds.

Related: 15 Awesome Things to Do in Iceland

East Iceland

Egilsstadir, Iceland

Located on the banks of the Lagarflot River in East Iceland, Egilsstadir is the starting off point for anyone who wants to visit Mt. Snæfell, Mt. Dyrfjöll and the Hafrahvammar canyon. The people in the town are so friendly, if you forget some or all of your hiking gear and need to buy some (ahem), they will give you a discount – you just have to ask.

The drive (or hike) to nearby Reyðarfjörður, a small coastal fishing town of just over a thousand people, is one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced. Cliffs carved with innumerable waterfalls and moss covered volcanic rock fields line the road and puffin colonies hide in the hills by the sea. Even better, when you get to the smaller towns, there are innumerable clean hostels to stay in for a fraction of a hotel room – even in the busy summer.

After exploring the East Coast, drive or, if budget allows, take a helicopter to West Iceland or the Western Fjords region. The flight is spectacular and gives you a panoramic view over the frozen Jurassic scenery of azure blue glacier ice, snow capped volcanoes, and the tiny isolated red-roofed farms dotted in between.

The Western Fjords of Iceland are unlike any other part of the islands. There is Rauðasandur, the red sand beach, and the jagged inlets that finger out into the ocean rival any in Norway for their dramatic beauty. It is also one of the oldest human occupied regions in Iceland – where the Vikings lived and the traders built their ports – and steeped with history, culture and witchcraft.

Isafjordor, Iceland

Isafjorder is one of the larger towns in the fjords and has a small airport for helicopters and local Icelandair flights. Dating back to the 9^th century, the former whaling village is picturesque and fascinating – it was the scene of the infamous witch trials in the 1600’s, where (unlike Salem) witches weren’t burned at the stake, but banished to a nearby peninsula. (If you have time, check out the nearby town of Holmavik, home of the Icelandic Museum of Sorcery and Witchcraft, which has an actual pair of Nabrok – necropants made from actual human skin).

Related: Meet the Elf Whisperer of Iceland – She’s on the Government Payroll

Isafjorder is home to Iceland’s oldest house (built in 1734) and another of Iceland’s fiercely guarded secrets: The Tjoruhusid Restaurant.

Located in an old long house used for curing cod near the mouth of the fjord, the restaurant is reaching near mythic status in Iceland.

Established in 2004, the communal restaurant only serves what comes in on the fishing boats – it is seasonal and the menu changes every day. It is Icelandic fare at its best.

And it’s popular. Our plane got in late and we arrived 20 minutes after our original reservation to lines forming out the door despite the chilly weather.

“Sorry – we have no room,” you missed your time slot,” the hostess said.

But the promise of “the best seafood in Iceland” was too good to walk away from so we opted to eat outside in the frosty evening air – made comfortable with blankets and pillows provided by the staff.

The meal – at $50 a person for the all inclusive meal – started with a tomato cream based fish and langoustine soup that I will dream about for years to come..

Then came the feast. On offer that evening was Halibut in butter and capers, cod cheeks fried with lemon and garlic, salted cod with olives and sundried tomatoes, Pollack with blueberries, bacon, red onion and citrus, pan fried place with oil, lemon and cherry tomatoes, wallfish (“arctic catfish”) in a green peppercorn sauce, and spotted fatty wallfish in a cream sauce with mushrooms and capers.

“Do not eat too much of one dish because then you will not be able to try everything and you must try everything!” our waiter, Wolf, exhorted. He was right. Two and a half hours later my friends and I rolled back to the Hotel Isafjordor to dream of that meal.

Extra bonus: Children under 14 eat for free. Not kidding.

Flatey Island

After checking out Isafjordur and the Western Fjord towns, get off the ring road, leave the caravans behind and rent a home or a room in the one hotel on Flately Island – the summertime escape for (actual) Icelanders. Only two families live year round on the island (inhabited since 1182) but in the summer it comes to life with vacationing families. There is easy and inexpensive access to the island via a ferry that travels between Flatey and Stykkishólmur and Brjánslækur – both towns just south of Isafjordor. On the island itself, there is one road, two restaurants and several hiking paths – the perfect place to unwind and relax for a few days. But be warned: the island is also home to a colony of fierce arctic terns. Should you go for a walk on the cliff side, watch out for the nesting birds – these avian terrorists will appear out of nowhere and, like a scene from Hitchcock’s “Birds,” attack from the air screaming, pooping and poised to dive bomb your head – while trying to herd you away from the town and over a cliff. It’s terrifying. Trust.

This article first appeared in Adventure.com.

The post Alt Iceland: Far From the Maddening Crowds appeared first on A Broad Abroad.