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Bobbing Like Apples in Cappadocia with @RoyalBalloon

Bethany — Mon, 21 May 2012 09:53:27 +0000

Story by Randy Kalp | Photos by Bethany Salvon

The balloons were ready at dawn as were the passengers. We came from all over the globe, uniting for an ascent above the ancient landscape of Cappadocia, Turkey.

After being treated to one of the finest breakfasts we had on The Hazy Shade of Autumn Tour at the Royal Balloon headquarters, Beth and I, along with the other riders, were shuttled to the launch area, where fiery bursts transformed the sheets strewn across the desert floor into colorful flying machines.

Just as the rays of the new day began trickling through the fairy chimneys, our balloon was bulbous and ready for flight, and that was about the time we met our extraordinary pilot, Suat Ulusoy. Armed with a smile and half-cocked ball cap, Suat welcomed us aboard, explained the takeoff procedure and then, with a smooth tug, ignited an unforgettable adventure over terrain that is one part Dakatoa Badlands and 15 parts otherworldly.

Formed out of intense volcanic activity, Cappadocia’s harmony of colors and shapes are the direct result of a list of natural forces too long to list. Once home to the Persian and Roman empires, modern day Cappadocia is a magnetic region in eastern Turkey ripe for exploration and adventure.

As we left the ground and floated up above Cappadoica’s diverse landscape, at times just several feet from surrealistic rock formations, I became in awe of Suat’s skills, realizing at that moment how spectacular it is to not only fly a hot air balloon, but to do it with such precision, grace and style.

The only way I can possibly describe his talent is to say that seeing Suat in action is like witnessing Michael Jordan in the NBA Finals, in other words, he’s money.

Luckily, our flight was 90 minutes, so after a bit I was able to shake myself back to the reality at hand— flying thousands of feet above a fantastic landscape with only a wooden basket separating me from the earth. As I watched the natural wonders unfold around us, I was thankful to have Beth beside me photographing the journey, because I knew that any string of adjectives I’d put together could never fully capture the moments– from takeoff to the traditional champagne toast afterwards–the way these photos do.

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Our wonderful pilot Suat:

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The champagne toast was such a special treat after the ride:

The Royal Balloon crew – what a great group!

Our flight with Royal Balloon was hands down the most remarkable activity we did on our trip in Europe. If you’re in Cappadocia and you want to experience an incredible adventure we highly recommend booking a hot air balloon ride with Royal Balloon. Suat’s piloting skills & ballooning knowledge are unmatched and their safety record is second to none. Plus the views are out of this world!

*While our journey with Royal Balloon was complimentary, our thoughts and opinions, including our belief that Royal Balloon offers the best hot air balloon tours in Cappadocia, are entirely our own.

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*Please remember all photos on this website, unless otherwise noted, are copyrighted and property of Beers and Beans Travel Website, Nariko’ s Nest Weddings & Bethany Salvon. Please do not use them without my permission. If you do want to use one of them please contact me first because I do love to share and I would be flattered. Thanks!

Nice: Hostel Meyerbeer Review | Hangin’ with @HostelBookers

Randy — Thu, 10 May 2012 19:41:22 +0000

Article by Randy Kalp & photos by Bethany Salvon. -

Editors Note: This is the eighth review in an ongoing series that will highlight each property–hostel and hotel–we stayed at during The Hazy Shade of Autumn Tour as part of our partnership with the good folks at HostelBookers.com, who have some fantastic deals on cheap Nice hotels.

The color of the water in Nice is unbelievable. One walk to the beach and you can see why the south of France is so popular. This beach is about a 5 minute walk from the hostel:

All signs pointed to neon sex as we exited Gare de Nice Ville. Night arrivals have a way of messing with my senses, and Nice, France, was no different.

As a rule of thumb, I’ve learned I can’t properly gauge my surroundings until dawn, and Nice—with its day-glow love—really caught me off guard. Had the train pulled into Amsterdam, Tijuana or San Francisco, I wouldn’t have blinked at the sexy fluorescent hue that punctured the warm winter’s wind, but this was Southern France, home of Johnny Depp and the Monte Carlo, and I never saw it coming.

Walking past the glowing XXXs, we made our way down the sidewalk slant to the sea and Hostel Meyerbeer. It’s funny looking back on that night—considering how much we loved Nice—and how, like in most aspects of life, first impressions can be wrong.

Checking into the recently renovated Hostel Meyerbeer was a breeze, as the front desk attendant was very polite and attentive. I immediately liked Meyerbeer’s intimate open floor plan, which reminded me of a hotel from the Beat Generation era–except for the free modern computers, HDTV and Playstation 3, of course –when hotels were more like small apartment buildings in mixed-use spaces where writers and artists took up residence for weeks and months on end.

The beach and the entrance to the hostel:

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The front desk, computer nook, TV area, kitchen & dining area:

But it was our room that really sealed the deal for me. Decked out with a comfortable queen, ensuite bathroom, flat-screen, mini-fridge, hardwood floors, a table and stool near the tall French windows and a strong WiFi signal, I felt that this was the kind of place that I could take up residence to paint my watercolor masterpiece. That feeling continued to grow stronger every day we were in Nice, as I fell deeper in love with what I consider the world’s biggest little city (Sorry Reno, you are no Nice).

Our clean and comfortable bedroom with beautiful French window and flowers Randy got me at the market because I was under the weather:

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Situated in the heart of Nice, just a block from the Mediterranean and the main sea drag—Promendade des Anglais—staying at Hostel Meyerbeer means you won’t have to worry about transportation fees because everything is within walking distance, including the historic section. Additionally, Cannes, Antibes, Monte Carlo and Monaco are only 30 minutes away by train, so the hostel works as a great home base to explore the entire Saint Tropez region. Better yet, there is a grocery store located right next to the hostel, which has a nice selection of wine, beer and can be a real budget saver when coupled with the hostel’s kitchen, which is also home to a nice European continental breakfast each morning.

During our stay, we had a chance to speak with the hostel’s co-owner, Sophia Kapsorova, about her future plans for Hostel Meyerbeer, and I got to say I’m really impressed with her vision for the hostel, which includes adding an additional floor (under construction during our visit) of rooms that, like everything else in Meyerbeer, have more in common with a boutique hotel than backpacker’s hostel. For me, it was really exciting to meet and see firsthand the desire and passion Sophia had for redefining the hosteling experience.

Room and bed rates vary by season. Currently, rates range from $36.57 for a bed in a six-person dorm to $99.26 for a deluxe private single. All rooms, including the the dorms, have a private bathroom.

Our private bathroom and a view of our room window from the exterior:

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*While our stay was complimentary, our thoughts and opinions are entirely our own.

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Flights of Fancy – A photographic journey through the skies of Cappadocia with @RoyalBalloon

Bethany — Wed, 09 May 2012 22:52:33 +0000

Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

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The one thing I always liked about flying in planes was the feeling of being above it all. All my problems and worries have no place in a plane – all I needed was to look down and see how far away I was from them. Whatever issue that was ailing me became minute. In fact, it became so tiny that when I looked out the window I couldn’t even see them. Flying above the world makes you realize just how small we are and how minuscule our problems really are.

But hot air balloon rides aren’t planes. They’re far more special and magical. They don’t just remove you from your worries, they transport you to another place.

I always romanticized about taking a hot air balloon ride. Over time I had reserved a special, hidden region of my brain solely for this ride, accompanied with the fantasy and endless possibilities that go along with images of vintage hot air balloons and their fantastically wild & imaginative pilots. Pilots who dared to believe in boundless creativity and endless possibilities. I imagined how incredible it must be to be captivated by life while bobbing and sailing effortless among the clouds.

Was I really here at last? Floating along the skies in of all places, Cappadocia? Could I truly be that fortunate?

Whimsy. Wonderland. Wanderlust. Imagination.

I’ve been trying to come up with the words that can come close to how I felt when we took our hot air balloon ride with Royal Balloon and those words keep popping up over and over again. The truth is that buoyantly drifting through the world in the basket of a hot air balloon was wildly beyond my greatest imagination. It’s hard for me to put it into words.

It immediately brought me to a state of awe. As an adult, it’s not everyday we get to experience such grand feelings of curiosity and wonderment. I’m pretty sure that most people who love to travel (whether it’s for a day or a year), do so because they like to be captivated & enchanted by new places. There is nothing quite like arriving in a new town. Even though you’ll do some of the same things that you’ll do on any other normal day (eat, sleep, figure out public transport) there is something special about that moment. The moment you arrive – step off the train, the bus, the plane or out of the cab – and look at the world around you for the first time.

In that moment anything is possible. Anything.

The hot air balloon ride was like that – an overwhelmingly childlike feeling where everything old was new again. A feeling that anything is possible.

The 90 minute balloon ride was perfect in every conceivable way. Desperately I tried to etch every moment of it in my brain and place in a folder reserved for curious wonder and wild imaginings. In the folder where upon entrance I hear the swing & sleaze of Paris cabaret songs circa 1930. A folder where the impossible doesn’t exist. A folder filed under three simple words – “Anything Is Possible”.

Discard the daily routine for a few minutes, let your mind wander and enjoy a flight of fancy with impossible possibilities.

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I hope you enjoyed this photo essay from our hot air balloon ride in Cappadocia.

If you get the chance to go on a hot air ballon ride – GO! You won’t be disappointed.

We have another photo essay coming out next week from the same flight with a write up from Randy that includes all the technical details about the flight and about our time with Royal Balloon. We had such a fantastic time with them that we can’t recommend them enough. If you are in Cappadocia and planning on taking to the skies make them your go-to hot air balloon specialists. They take care of everything so that you can just enjoy the ride – think gorgeous breakfast buffet, bubbly champagne & some of the most amazing moments you’ll experience in your life. In other words, Royal Balloon will treat you like royalty.

The world would be quite boring without imagination. If you’ve got a favorite photo or feel inspired to imagine ridiculous things please let me know in the comments. I love ridiculous!

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Flights of Fancy in Cappadocia, Turkey – Somewhere In Time Weekly Travel Photo

Bethany — Thu, 03 May 2012 10:33:08 +0000

Somewhere In Time is a weekly travel photo from around the world. Enjoy!

Hot Air Balloon. Hot Air Balloooooooooon…

Just saying the words conjures up notions of faraway exotic illusions. What is it about this magical mystery flying machine that turns me into mush?

Hot + Air + Balloon = Imaginative Thoughts of Wanderlust.

There is nothing else in the world that can bring the same amount of whimsy & travel fascination as a hot air balloon. Sure, planes are cool but they come with TSA & screaming kids; trains are decidedly romantic but no, even they still don’t entrance the way a hot air balloon can. Could a submarine steal the show? For some maybe but no, still not the same. Plus they come with that whole water pressure issue.

I just can’t think of anything else in the world that lights my fancy like the image of a hot air balloon floating effortlessly around the world. It makes my thoughts dance.

It’s my little travel pie in the sky, if you will.

I always dreamed of taking a hot air balloon ride but I never had the chance to make it a reality. Until we went to Turkey.

When we headed to Cappadocia on the 12 hour overnight bus I had a pretty strong gut feeling that we were in for something special. I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect – maybe some hiking, some late night photo walks and plates of delicious Turkish yogurt.

I can’t explain it fully – but you know when you get a feeling about a place? You can’t describe it, you can’t put your finger on it but somewhere deep inside there is something brewing – a rumbling, a magnetic force, a calling. Sometimes that one indescribable feeling is all you need to get you going or keep you going.

I had this feeling about Cappadocia. It captured me, enraptured me, kept me dreaming & wanting to walk down the next, dusty alleyway.

Then one morning I saw the hot air balloons floating over the Tim Burton-esque landscape and I knew of all places – this should be it. This should be the place I do mental cartwheels among the clouds and effortlessly skip hand-in-hand with the delicate wind.

It was on a wing and a prayer that I sent an email to Royal Balloon asking if they might like a review of their balloon ride in exchange for a couple seats on their flying fantasy machine known as the hot air balloon. I pushed send, crossed my fingers and then tried not to check my email every 5 minutes.

A few hours later we were booked in for a 5am flight the next day!

I will never forget the feeling – sitting in our little cave hotel room, listening to the call to prayer and realizing that I was going up in a hot air balloon the next day – in Cappadocia, Turkey, no less! It was surreal.

Talk about a dream come true – it was unbelievable. Better than I ever could have imagined. The hot air balloon was the perfect vessel for true escape – letting go of everything yet still being awed at the same time.

In the space of a couple hours I saw Cappadocia in a completely different light and grew more enchanted with it as each minute that passed. I now can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if we didn’t go.

Although the last few weeks have been some of the hardest for my family I’ve been daydreaming back to that day when we floated along the Turkish skies like spellbound children reading their favorite fairytale.

Even on land the memory is still a great escape. The people at Royal Balloon were equally fantastic, especially our pilot Suat, who was beyond compare – knowledgeable, confident & funny.

Behind the scenes I’ve been editing a lot of photos from our hot air balloon ride for 2 upcoming photo essays. This one is a favorite of mine which is why I decided to feature it in the Somewhere In Time series. Please be sure to stay tuned because there are a LOT more hot air balloon photos to come along with some great write ups by Randy.

Until then, I hope you enjoy my little flight of fancy.

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Traveling through Literary Britain

Bethany — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 11:56:02 +0000

This is a guest post from Jessica Minier Mabe. She is not only one of our readers but also the owner of Distant Mountain Trips which orchestrates intimate & unique tours across Europe. As a former English teacher one of her favorite tours is ‘Literary Britain’. Reading her post below it is clear she has a passion not only for quality, well thought out travel but also for diving behind the scenes of literary classics. Please be sure to read her bio below and check out her website, Distant Mountain Trips, for more information about her personal & passionately led tours.

I have read Pride and Prejudice at least a dozen times, and taught it to high school students. Back when I was still in high school myself, I bought a 1914 “travel” edition, complete with charming illustrations and a thin gold ribbon bookmark, which I carried with me around the world, like a one-book Kindle. Whenever I was bored, lonely, or lovelorn in a place far from home, out came my traveling “P&P” to comfort me with the familiar story of Lizzie and Mr. Darcy. Later I carried copies of Jane Eyre, or A Room with a View, Vanity Fair or Kim… whichever work of classic fiction I found most relevant, most familiar, and yet most fresh when I returned to it. These books were my traveling talismans, able to magically transport me to their worlds and therefore, somehow, back home.

When I created my first “literary” tour of Britain, I sought out the familiar haunts of my favorite authors. It was wonderful to discover how much I could learn about Jane Austen, for example, just from standing in the rooms where she once stood. The knowledgeable tour guides at each home taught me fascinating new trivia. The guides walk through these houses every day: this is their specialty, and often their passion. At Jane’s house we learned that machine-made laces quickly turned the status symbol of lace gowns into a mark of the nouveau riche. An admiring comment about a woman’s lacey dress in Pride and Prejudice morphs a few years later into the snide comments of a status-obsessed character in Emma, who cannot understand why Emma’s wedding has so few “lace veils,” unaware that this fashion has already passed her by. In all the times I read these familiar stories, I never realized that someone’s understanding of lace (or the lack of it) could tell me all about their position in society. It was amazing to catch this little extra jab, as if Jane were elbowing me in the ribs across 200 years and whispering: “Get it? That snob doesn’t even know that lace veils are sooo last year!”

Visiting Charlotte Bronte’s house for the first time, I better understood her novel’s melancholy, yet sweeping tone. The Bronte parsonage is situated above a small cemetery at the top of a steep hill in Haworth. The country is wilder than Austen’s gentle farmland, and feels far more remote. As I walked among the mossy headstones in the graveyard, I was struck by the idea that Charlotte must have stood there on quiet afternoons as well, reading the same names, wondering as I did about the stories of those buried there. Did they inspire one of her fantastical miniature books? In the dining room of the parsonage, I walked around the table slowly. Charlotte and her family often walked there after dinner, round and round in pairs with their arms linked, talking and laughing. After the deaths of her sisters in close succession, her friend Mrs. Gaskell remembered sitting in the room below, listening as Charlotte’s lonely footsteps circled the table for hours. It meant something to walk around that table – to feel, if only for a moment, the isolation of her pitiful journey.

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The sense of a book being both familiar and surprising has always been at the heart of my love for great literature. The best books provide continuous rediscoveries as we, their loving readers, grow to understand new facets of the characters and situations that come to reflect our own lives. When I was young, I wanted to be the characters in the stories. I wanted to be romanced by the arrogant Mr. Darcy, and adored by him once he’d reformed. I wanted to feel the same bitter longing that Jane has for Mr. Rochester, and then to embrace him with the same knowing fondness. I ached to love the way they did, but was convinced that too great a distance separated us. How could a modern girl be swept away on passions as grand as those conceived in Jane’s and Charlotte’s imaginations? Now that I am older, I can see so many places where our lives converged. I can place next to their adventures the lessons learned from my own experiences, and that brings a new richness to stories I thought I already knew.

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I love running trips to Literary Britain, taking small groups of fans on tours of their favorite authors’ haunts, and to the places where great literature still lives and breathes. Each time I step into the houses of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Charlotte Bront?, or William Wordsworth, I find myself even more connected to the works I love, and to the very real people who wrote them. It is truly the best form of time travel. This summer, I’ll be bundling up my travel P&P, and heading out again to rediscover that same world in a whole new light.

Jessica Minier Mabe is a former English teacher and owner of Distant Mountain Trips. This year’s trips to “Literary Britain” run in both June and October. Visit Distant Mountain Trips and sign up to find your own connection to your favorite authors’ lives.

*All photos in this post provided by Jessica Minier Mabe.

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Barcelona: Casa Gracia Review | Hangin’ With @HostelBookers

Randy — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 10:33:49 +0000

Editors Note: This is the seventh review in an ongoing series that will highlight each property–hostel and hotel–we stayed at during The Hazy Shade of Autumn Tour as part of our partnership with the good folks at HostelBookers.com.

Despite several years of Spanish language classes, I never had a strong desire to visit Spain, especially Barcelona. I’m not sure why really; it just never called to me like France and Italy.

So it’s no surprise (especially for anyone that has visited this fantastic country) that I was fool. After spending nearly a week in the country, I can honestly say that I love Spain, especially Barcelona, which conjured up the best of California for me: San Diego and San Francisco. And, in my opinion, no neighborhood better represented this blend of Europe meets California than Gracia in the north end of Barcelona.

With its narrow streets, stylish boutiques and paperback booksellers, Gracia is a hip section of Barcelona where locals and tourists come together to feast on the excellent collection of restaurants, cafés, and bars. We got the lowdown on the neighborhood from the excellent staff at the charmingly cool Casa Gracia Barcelona Hostel.

Located at the intersection of Paseo de Gracia and Diagonal, the hostel does a fantastic job of mixing modern aesthetics with classical Spanish architecture. Stepping into Casa Gracia feels more akin to a classic European hotel than a backpacker’s hostel. That’s not to say, Casa Gracia is stuffy and boring. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. With a mix of families, backpackers, couples and groups, the hostel does sociability with quiet when it counts very well.

The front desk, dining area, hallways & living room:

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Beth and I had the opportunity to stay in both a private room on the second floor as well as four-person dorm on the first floor near the common area and kitchen, and at no time did we ever have any trouble sleeping at night. Each floor has plenty of bathrooms, neither of our rooms had an en-suite bathroom; however, both did have a sink and mirror.(The hostel also has rooms available with private bathrooms). The dorm rooms featured hardwood floor and nice dimming lights (a great feature for late night or early morning arrivals) as well as an ample storage locker under the bunks that could be locked with your lock.

Our private room on the second floor featured French doors that overlooked an old stone patio. The room was bright and stylish, melding modern and classical decor perfectly. On one hand it felt very hip, while on the other, the room (and hostel overall) gave off a great early 20^th century vibe.

If there’s one thing I love it’s attention to detail. The bold wallpaper, tiled sink back splash & wooden hangers gave this room a very intimate feel:

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Both rooms were extremely clean and that goes for the bathrooms and common areas in the hostel as well. Casa Gracia’s breakfast was an excellent European continental affair with meats, cheeses, yogurt, breads and cereal as well as fresh coffee and juice. And the hostel also features a nice large kitchen for guests to use and to store their food.

The kitchen, dining area, bathroom, patio & views off our balcony:

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As I said earlier, the staff was superb. The reception desk was extremely helpful and polite. They have maps on hand and are quick to tell you their favorite spots around Barcelona. Additionally, they also plan nightly pub crawls and other activities, like organizing trips to FC Barcelona games.

Another plus to staying at Casa Gracia is its location. Our first several days in Barcelona were right in the heart of Las Ramblas, so we weren’t too sure how Casa Gracia would compare. However, we found it to be just as good, especially if you more interested in seeing a more local side of Barcelona while still being in the heart of the city. Not only is Casa Gracia within walking distance of Catalunya Square and Casa Batlló of Gaudi, it’s also only a block from the nearest metro stop. The location really offers up the best of Barcelona for travelers who like the main attractions as much as the local spots.

The first photo was taken right outside the hostel entrance. The second photo features jewelery for sale at a pop up market we stumbled upon in the neighborhood one day.

Room rates vary at Casa Gracia depending on low, mid and high season. When we stayed at the hostel in December, it was the low season so the rates are as follows. The dorm room was 19 euros per night (per person) and the private twin was 54 euros per night (per room), which from our research seems to be on par with cheap hotels in Barcelona, if not a little better, especially when you consider the breakfast and location.

*While our stay was complimentary, our thoughts and opinions are entirely our own.

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First Impressions: Cortanovci and the Things I Learned with WWOOF Serbia

Randy — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 10:58:23 +0000

Standing in a darkened train compartment waving goodbye to Katarina Milenkovic, co-founder of WWOOF Serbia, at the Belgrade Station, I had the electric nervousness I often get when visiting a foreign place I know little about.

As the old, reliable Soviet-era train rattled into the dark countryside, Beth and I sat silent, desperately grasping to the pronunciation of our stop: Cortanovci. I must have repeated the name fifty times in my head, but when the young man next to us asked where we were going all I could come up with was ChorTonaSki (emphasizing the capital letters in my best Russian accent). He looked at me blankly and I tried again, this time butchering the village’s name into something I didn’t even recognize. Finally, Beth pulled out her journal and in the dim light of a fading station he said, “Oh, Cortanovci!”

For the next 40 minutes, we traded stories with our new friend about 21^st century Serbia, America and his time as waiter on Martha’s Vineyard. As we neared our stop, he gave us the heads up and without this notice we surely would have missed the stop.

Stepping down from the train onto the chunky gravel tracks, we could see two people standing in the dim orange hue that enveloped the station’s platform: a female conductor flagging the engineer with a flashlight and another gentleman in shorts with a white poodle sitting by his side—our WWOOF host, Dragan Crnomarkovic and his dog, Filip.

Started in 1971 by a London secretary who wanted to support organic farms in the English countryside, WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) now operates in more than 50 countries. The organization gives volunteers the chance to work and to learn about biodynamic farming from hosts who produce a variety of organic products, including wine, cheese and jam. In return, hosts provide them with free room and board and pass on their knowledge about their respective farming practices.

The road to Dragan’s house cuts through a row of dimly-lit houses that are like caricatures of the 1960s-era ranch homes so prevalent in San Diego’s East County. Turning onto a dirt road, large trees loom overhead and scant houselights dot our way. I wasn’t sure what to expect of the WWOOF farm, so as we stop in front of Dragan’s house I’m surprised to see it is a chalet-style home and not some large farm, like I had imagined.

In the morning, we meet Dragan in the kitchen preparing a red pepper dish (his wife, Olivera Rosic, was out of town for a few days) and after a light breakfast, he gives us a tour of their property and explains their goals—wine making and raw food preparation. The couple’s house fits their needs perfectly; it’s a nice, multifamily home–which affords them ample space to host volunteers while pursuing their agricultural passions–with some organic grape vines and vegetable plants. `

For the first couple days, we help Dragan prep his garage for an incoming grape shipment and prepare vegetables from their gardens for winter. In our down time, Dragan encourages us to explore Cortanovci, which is a small two-bar village with a quiet, slow paced mountain charm. When Olivera returns, Beth starts helping her prepare for her upcoming raw food seminars, and Dragan and I begin hauling up the dozens of wooden crates of grapes from his neighbor’s house that we would later destem and store for fermentation.

Spending time with Dragan and Olivera was a really special experience for me, because there lifestyle reminded me of my great grandmother’s, who used to make wine and grow her own fruits and vegetables at her small home in western Pennsylvania. That’s not to say the couple’s lifestyle is dated; instead, I found it refreshingly modern. In fact, what Dragan and Olivera are doing in Cortanovci seems to be a growing trend in America, so getting to experience their sustainable lifestyle firsthand, while delving into Serbia’s amazing culture was what made our first Serbian WWOOF farm so memorable.

Volunteering with Olivera and Dragan was also a great reminder that WWOOFing isn’t just limited to large organic farms, like the one we worked on in Pontassieve, Italy. Each WWOOF chapter encompasses a large network of diverse farms–large and small–that bring together people from all walks of life who are interested in promoting organic farming practices and lifestyles.

Just in case you need a few more reasons to volunteer in Serbia, here are three of my favorite things about WWOOFing in Serbia.

Editors Note: In the upcoming months we’ll have a lot of photos of Serbia coming out. I took all them with my trusty Nikon D300s and if you’re shopping for a new camera you can visit Argos for a great selection of Nikon DSLR Cameras.

During the next week or so, we will be publishing more from our time WWOOFing in Serbia, but if you can’t wait for our updates, I highly recommend checking out wwoofserbia.org or following them on Facebook and/or Twitter.

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Amsterdam, I Can’t Find You – On The Road Journal Entries

Bethany — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 10:24:58 +0000

There is nothing better than having paper & pen with you in a new place. When we travel, I always try to write my own personal reflections down about each country we visit in my trusty travel notebooks, which is lovingly supplied by my sister Bridgette at Earmark Social Paper Goods.

Amsterdam was our first stop in Europe and I definitely didn’t fall in love with city the way most people do. However, after a few days and too many ‘coffees’ later, I had changed my tune slightly. While it’s not on my list of places to return to quickly, I hope that one day I’ll get to go back and find what I must have missed this time around. Plus, I have to admit that the bikes scattered around the city are pretty darn cute.

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Without further ado here are my two in-the-moment personal journal entries about Amsterdam.

Journal Entry #1:

Open letter to the city of Amsterdam – Sept. 29, 2011

For the city of Amsterdam I have many questions:

1. Where are you going?

London has nothing on you. Never in my life have I seen so many people going so many places on so many types of vehicles at the speed of light. I have been almost hit by a car, a moped, a multitude of bikes and even people on foot. Crossing the road takes skill. But really it’s not just the speed at which you move, it’s the purpose you carry with you as you go. With a look of stern dedication to a place unknown to me you barrel down the streets at the highest of speeds, god have mercy on anyone in your path because they are going down. Down like Chinatown. I have to know Amsterdam where are you going? Are all your houses burning? Maybe it’s time to get a bigger bong – just a thought.

2. What does pot mean to you?

In America it means slow pace, snacks of all types, and lazy antics. My mind is boggled thinking that pot is legal here. Is this what happens when you take away the taboo? All the lazy potheads become people with purpose that have the highest metabolisms on earth? If we legalize pot in the U.S. does that mean I will lose like 20 lbs overnight, have fashion that rivals the French and have what looks like endless ambition? Will I also have the sudden ability to ride my bike so fast I might actually take off? BTW, how is it OK that you allow the music of Nsync in your coffee shops? “Baby Bye, Bye, Bye” – this is bizarre pot smoking music. Just sayin’.

3. Energy Bills that high?

Electricity is a friend to all. I know this isn’t your problem but I need not only WiFi to do my job I also need access to electricity. So why give up the WiFi without the juice? It is impossible to find both of these luxurious delights anywhere in your maze. I want to spend my time enjoying your museums & coffee shops, not hunting down an elusive outlet.

4. The Floating Flower Market – Really?

In my eyes a floating flower market doesn’t count as floating if the shops are on concrete ‘barges’ (and I use that term loosely) and are permanently affixed to the street. That makes it just a regular flower market that sells overpriced flowers and happens to be positioned on a canal. I’m sorry but it’s lame. Also, why are your flower sellers so cranky? I’ve made my way all the way out to your insulting tourist trap of a market – don’t you think you can at least let me take a photo? Do you have a copyright on the tulip?

5. Where’s your heart?

You’ve been called the “Venice of the North”. Yes, there are canals that add some allure to your city but I’m sorry Amsterdam you are no Venice. All of your canals combined don’t have the charm, beauty or intrigue that Venice has in one small dimly lit alley. However, the real difference sadly lies in the cold shoulders of your citizens. Yes, Italians can be hot headed but they are also full of love and not afraid to show it. The borderline rudeness of your residents means shows me you will never carry the innate warmth of the Venetians. I do appreciate the fact that you have houseboats on your canals and I think that is pretty freaking awesome but it can’t compensate for the chill that emanates from your city streets. It makes me sad and Amsterdam, I have to ask – where’s your heart? Why don’t you let the love in, or out? Why have you’ve built the great wall around you?

6. Why do women have to hold their pee but men don’t?

Open Air Urination Station

I’ll admit it was something of a treat to walk down the street and see men peeing with absolutely no regard to anything going on around them. After the initial shock, it took me a moment to realize that you have actually sanctioned these unique items on your city streets. I don’t know what you call them but I’ve coined the name “Open Air Urination Stations” which I think fits pretty well. Hands down, it is totally gross but I can get over that. What I can’t get over is the fact you have no Open Air Urination Stations for women. You display your nearly naked women in store front windows so why can’t a sister get her pee on in the street mid-day as well? Why is one entire gender forced to hold their pee as they walk amongst the your streets? Not cool Amsterdam.

7. When are you going to show yourself to me?

I want to find you Amsterdam. I love your Dutch painters and I know somewhere inside your walls there is city I just might fall for. Could you be like the heavy metal rock star that writes devoted, cliche love songs in their dark & secluded bedroom – so tough on the exterior yet so fragile & full of love on the inside? I know you must have something lovely hidden, I just haven’t discovered it yet. The question is – will I ever?

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Journal Entry #2 written two days later:

Amsterdam/The Streets of Speed – Oct. 1, 2011

Earlier today I hated you. I thought your people were rude and too fast paced. I found the floating flower market a farce – a tourist trap that doesn’t float. I almost got hit by 500 bikes and I hated the light – flat & boring – yawn. But then somehow between your not-that-tasty pancakes and sumptuous & questionable red light district you started to grow on me like a fine mold. Now I find myself looking for a petri dish so I can keep your spores. I think it’s possible that someday I might just like you.

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Amsterdam After Dark – Photo Essay

Bethany — Mon, 19 Mar 2012 10:33:31 +0000

Amsterdam was the very first stop on our European journey. I hate to say it but I just didn’t love Amsterdam the way I thought I would. I think it was a case of having high expectations – which is never a good thing. Amsterdam is iconic – everyone knows someone that has been there and it’s been featured in a million movies. All the people I know that have visited the city have told me over and over again about how fantastic it is and how much I would love it.

I definitely had high expectations of Amsterdam, I expected it to be utterly impressive, hedonistic and unlike anywhere else I had ever been. While it was a pretty cool city it just didn’t grab me the way other places have. It’s an extremely fast moving city and it easily tops the list as one of the most expensive European cities. I just didn’t feel any real kinship to Amsterdam and because we were only there for three days there just wasn’t a lot of time to search out the missing connection.

While I was there I decided to take some photos of Amsterdam at night. Looking at them makes me think there must be more to the city than what I initially felt. Hopefully in the future I’ll get the chance to go back and give it another go. I really like these photos and I hope you like them too!

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Barcelona: Las Ramblas Apartments | Hangin’ With @Hostelbookers

Randy — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 10:33:11 +0000

Editors Note: This is the sixth review in an ongoing series that will highlight each property–hostel and hotel–we stayed at during The Hazy Shade of Autumn Tour as part of our partnership with the good folks at HostelBookers.com.

The infamous La Rambla – steps from the apartment.

It’s funny the things that make you realize you are getting older. I look in the mirror and I am still the same 23-year-old kid. But I know my habits and tolerances have changed, including sharing rooms in hostels.

Part of this has to do with the fact that we work on the road when we travel. Because of this we are in constant need of electronic outlets when we do sit down to work, plus I prefer working the in the privacy of our own room, especially early in the morning or late at night, instead of in the common area. Additionally, we travel with a lot more electronics than we used to, so it’s just nice to have that extra bit of security when we go out.

Fortunately, on The Hazy Shade of Autumn Tour, we had the opportunity to partner up with Shing and the great folks at Hostelbookers for some of our stays and they hooked us up with private rooms whenever they could. I’m not going to lie, it was fantastic! You got all the perks that make hostels so great—breakfast, social atmosphere, activities and good WiFi—with all the comforts and privacy of a hotel.

But in one instance, we discovered something that we had no idea even existed on HostelBookers.com, a short-term apartment rental. Well, it turns out that not only does HostelBookers do hostels, you can also book short-term apartment rentals and hotels through the site too.

The Barcelona studio at Las Ramblas Apartments, which we found on hostelbookers, was on the 5^th floor (the building had an elevator, thank god) and overlooked La Rambla— the tree-lined street of central Barcelona. Oh man, I can’t tell you how excited we were when we met the host at the buildings front door and he proceeded to show us this incredible place. It was stylish, modern and comfortable, in other words, the apartment was the kind of place I see in a magazine or visit for a dinner party and I know I could be happy there for a long time.

But the interior of the studio wasn’t even the best part, because it also features an incredible roof balcony right off the living room that overlooks La Rambla, which is nearly as big as the apartment itself. Additionally, the roof-top patio had a table and chairs as well as drying rack for clothes. La Rambla is the heart & soul of central Barcelona and a top tourist attraction so being based right in the middle of it was a real treat – being able to watch it from above was spectacular. And don’t even get me started on the views of La Rambla at night, especially during the Christmas season when twinkling lights fill the trees and hang over the streets.

And while the place maybe a little costly for a solo traveler, for couples or a group of three or four the place is perfect, especially when you consider its location to one of the city’s most famous food markets La Boqueria and a nearby grocery store. Toss in that the metro is less than a block away and you have one of the choicest spots in Barcelona for your holiday stay.

The fantastic open lay out of the apartment (the bed is on the other side of that white wall near the stairs) which also features a fully equipped kitchen:

The colorful bathroom is cleverly tucked behind two disappearing doors with a separate shower on the right:

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The Living/Dining Room has stairs that lead right out onto the roof deck:

The spacious balcony and large sliding glass doors into the apartment:

Unique tree top views from the balcony. This is the perfect place for breakfast & lunch or to practice yoga:

The view of La Rambla from the roof deck:

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La Boqueria Market – this famous market is just down the street and the perfect place to buy fresh veggies & fruit:

The location of this apartment is KILLER. Everything you need is at your doorstep. Here are more views of the surrounding streets & La Rambla:

Now I know for some, a holiday isn’t a holiday if they’re not staying in a hotel, and for those folks, I still recommend checking out HostelBookers’ listings for cheap central Barcelona hotels for your Spain vacation.

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