Ever since my best friend Erin left the Midwest for the vibrant West coast, I was dying to visit her new hometown Portland, Oregon. So one quick five hour flight and 2 Bloody Mary’s later, I found myself reunited with my gal in a rental car headed for the city center. It was a rainy evening true Portland-style… and a few cold brews at a local hole in the wall where I met some soon-to-be friends and embarrassing performances in pinball capped the night. We had an early morning to follow. Erin and I gassed up our new wheels (creatively named “black car”) and set out for our 5+ hour road trip to Crater Lake 230 miles due South. A Lion King soundtrack kept the ride smooth, along with the ever-changing scenery and countless rainbows guiding our way. When we arrived to our adorable one-room cabin tucked beneath towering trees in the middle of nowhere, I knew we were in for an adventure. We had traveled from a bustling city to a snowy escape, and I couldn’t have been happier. We decided to check out the Crater Lake National Park itself, thinking the brief appearance of sun would last us the afternoon. False. After driving a mere ten minutes deeper into the woods, the sun turned into a full-out whiteout of blizzard. ‘Black car’ did its best to navigate us through evergreens resembling giants from a Dr. Seuss book and snow banks at least 15 feet high. Wow.. There was obviously nothing to see once we reached the park, so we planned for our snow-shoe the next day and began the drive back towards our cabin with the gas tank reading Empty. Woops. I am happy to report we survived the return trip by turning our car into a luge and skidding down the mountain on Neutral. (Great job, Erin). Since we still had a few hours until darkness trapped us in our cabin for the night, we decided to rent some cheap snow shoes and gear up for a lovely hike in the nearby trails. The shoes were a fail (not enough snow) but the trek was gorgeous and caught us by surprise. We trekked a few hours without another sole in sight and discovered cascading waterfalls, rocky gorges, moss-covered trees, and fresh piles of glittering snow. We warmed our toes and snow gear by the fire while we made fresh salad and sipped red wine to conclude our adventurous day in the wilderness. The cabin was cozy and warm; we were only slightly nervous about being killed by an axe-murderer in the night. The next morning we filled up on Cheerios and headed back towards Crater Lake. I was less-than-optimistic we would see the beautiful lake itself (it is the United States’ deepest lake at 594 meters; and the ninth deepest in the world) which is a striking deep blue abyss surrounded by the sharp caldera. We knew we had to hike over six miles uphill to get to the top and see the lake, and we knew there was a blizzard and about 3 feet of snow every step of the way. Our creaky snow-shoes and willingness to prevail carried us step by strenuous step up the mountain, winding back and forth and switching off who led the footprints for the other. We were dying of exhaustion after about 3 hours straight, and were unsure of how close we had come to the top (note: bring a map if you do this). Running low on water and blood circulation, we knew we had reached the top, but had to descend before waiting out the storm to try to catch a view of the lake. Oh well, I guess we’ll have to return in a different season. I swear this was one of the hardest workouts of my life, so when we made it down alive and saw another human, we were more than proud of ourselves and our glorious feat. Our time in Crater Lake was short and sweet. We drove back to Portland that night and were congratulated on our journey with more stunning views and rainbows decorating the sky. For the Photos from this Crater Lake trip, visit the Photos Page and click "Oregon".
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"India is one of the best travel experiences of my life thus far. This place opens the mind and enriches the soul."For Christmas of 2010 I decided to surprise my boyfriend Tom with a vacation to the Bahamas! I found a great deal and booked without hesitation – this was going to be epic… our first “real” vacation (no raccoons here!) and Tom’s first time out of the country. So we got him a passport before celebrating Christmas, brought in the New Year (2011) – and off we were! The quick flight brought us to Miami, Florida for the night– where we paid a ridiculous $50 on a taxi to our budget/dump hotel in the ghetto. (South Beach is for celebrities… not us.) We dressed up and got the hell out of our dumpy room for the night, crossing into the star-studded South Beach for an evening to remember. The strip was fantastic – Gucci-wearing jetsetters browsing boutiques lining the cobblestone walkways – Italian lights on palm trees swaying above countless outdoor eateries… we weren’t in the ghetto anymore. After exploring a bit we decided on a mid-priced restaurant where we imbibed on cocktails and enjoyed homemade shrimp pasta over candlelight. After dinner I convinced Tom to sit at one of the ritzy hookah lounges calling our names where we enjoyed some apple hookah straight from the pipe. The night wasn’t over as we had to explore the famed clubs! The strip of bars lining the beach was impressive… the over-served patrons were not. We settled at “Clevelanders”, a bar complete with a dance floor over a pool which winds through the entire outdoor establishment. Pretty cool to say the least. After deciding we had spent enough money for one night, we took the pricey taxi back to our side of town. The next morning we hauled our luggage back to the strip where we grabbed cheap bagels and spent the morning at Miami Beach. The water was blue, the sun was shining, and our whole Cruise was ahead of us! After a while it was time to get on the ship: “Majesty of the Seas”. We checked in, reluctantly participated in the mandatory safety run, and sipped some mojitos to celebrate our departure. The ship was stacked with two large pools, hot tubs, a club, piano bar, casino, theatre, dining rooms, and Johnny Rockets. The food was endless and the drinks kept coming. We entered heaven for the next 4 days. Bob Marley rang through the speakers as we waved goodbye to the Miami skyline setting in the sun. A fancy dinner was to follow where we ordered the cheapest bottle of red and couldn’t decide between entrees so ordered two each. (This repeated every evening… fat.) That night we gambled in the casino, watched the live pianist, and danced in the club. Not too shabby. The next morning we awoke to all-you-can-eat breakfast and the Florida Keys! We ferried over to Key West and explored the tiny town for the day. I loved the vibe here – pastel summer homes lined the streets where fresh flowers were blooming and adorable shops sold trinkets and takeaways. There were an odd number of Key Lime Pie shops, and plenty of beer gardens where it is perfectly legal to walk the town with cold brews. We of course did. We made it to Ernest Hemingway’s house, the beach, and the Southernmost Point of the continental US… just 90 miles to Cuba. Back on the ship hours later we relaxed in the hot tub before Tom decided to join the main event… the Belly Flop contest. My man placed second with the whole ship watching… We just had to indulge in Johnny Rockets burgers and milkshakes with a view of pure ocean… only to dress up for another extravagant dinner just a few hours later. Fat. We later caught a show in the theatre with live singing and dancing, followed by some time in the piano bar where I spontaneously joined the pianist with some singing of my own. Ah… there is nothing like a morning at sea. To sunbathe on the ship deck and see nothing but cobalt blue waves in the distance is pure serenity. To add a bucket cheap Fosters beers is ideal. We could have done this all day, but as we saw the Atlantis resort freshly painted corral and beaming in the distance, we were immediately anxious to explore Nassau... Now I must admit – my obsession with the Mary-Kate and Ashley flick “Holiday In The Sun” took large part in my excitement to see the famed Atlantis resort in my pre-teen years… I had been dreaming of coming here since I was a skinny fourteen year old twin wannabe. So as Tom and I ferried over to the strip of white sand claimed by the massive resort, I cared less about the celebrity homes our driver was pointing out and more about the destination. Once we arrived, the place was as magical as I’d imagined. Perfectly groomed beaches and lush gardens were met with unbelievable aquariums housing dancing fish of every color. Every once and a while a massive manta ray would swim by, or a dolphin, or shark. WOW. Tom and I refused to fork over $60 each to simply swim there for the day, so after getting frustrated with what the over-priced packages had to offer, we forfeited and found the only free public beach to rest our towels. Cabbage beach was no eyesore with its pure blue waters, crashing waves, and silky soft sand. As the sun set we decided to walk towards the Atlantis just to see how close we could get to the beach without being thrown out. Turns out we could walk right in from the back without being spotted by security! It was surreal. We were walking the entirety of the grounds at sunset, without a sole in site. We went to every lagoon, beach, and fountain. We even went inside and enjoyed the free aquarium exhibit where we held starfish and saw alien-like underwater creatures that blew our minds. We enjoyed cocktails (we snuck them from our room on the cruise ship) on the beach alone at dawn. After getting our fill of Atlantis, we just had to stop at the Senor Frog’s – Nassau edition. We shared a couple of Coronas in the raging bar held on stilts above the ocean before making our way back to the ship. We somehow drunkenly dressed up for another fancy dinner/theatre combo that evening, followed by a dance party on the top deck where I had dance-offs with the ship’s professional dancers courtesy of some liquid courage. Our last day full day on the ship was sad. We forced away our hangovers to be the first to meet Coco Cay Island… we were also the last to leave. This place was euphoric. Sure it was fake and all man-made, but who cares? What Coco Cay lacked in authenticity it made up for in beauty. Tom napped on our slice of paradise while I swam and held my own self-timer photo shoot. We walked the perimeter of the island and decided to rent a paddle boat and float out to sea. We could see the corral right through the clear water, and even ran into a large-scale stingray. This day was my favorite – it was painful to leave. I knew we had full-time desk jobs and a nasty winter ahead of us back home. Couldn’t we just hide in a palm tree and leave on the next ship over? Tom and I both agreed we could live here at least for a few months. Our last night was one of decadence with a fancy seafood dinner, a comedy show, and the final onstage performance by the Cruise line entertainers. We stayed up on the ship deck looking at the stars until our eyes wouldn’t stay open. It was back to reality tomorrow. Snowy Chicago was calling our names… While some travelers frown upon package vacations or Cruises in general, I for one am I fan. Is it true adventure? No. But that makes it no less enjoyable for me. After Tom’s first cruise he confidently decided he was sold, and dubbed himself a “cruise guy”… so I am sure this will not be our last.
As though our taller-than-average, more obnoxious-than-average family does not have enough going on, we used to try to squeeze in a family trip on our 2 and a half bedroom boat each year… exploring the coast of Lake Michigan along the way. The summer of 2010 was no different as we took a quick jaunt to South Haven, Michigan for a long weekend trip. (If interested for some reason, click here for tales of the first boat trip I posted about). So after the speedy trip across the lake and over to the tiny beach town of South Haven, we plopped our boat in the marine for a few nights of fun. The first day began with sunbathing on the local beach where some harmless banter turned into a full-fledged wrestling match in the sand. It was truly outrageous yet somehow entertaining. We washed off in the waves and took turns flipping on the beach. I impressed with my one-handed cartwheel while not spilling the beer in my other hand. My sister Ashley soon repeated the trick must to my dismay. I drowned my sorrows in a gluttonous amount of BBQ ribs before finishing the night with strong long island iced teas at The Idler, the ship-turned-bar… and some raging karaoke. The next day was the annual dog show – and as my family and I are self-proclaimed creepy canine lovers, we joined right in. After a biased vote, we decided our dogs Lucy and Ethel were much cuter than any other dogs so we left and got ice cream in town. We spent the next 20 hours of our lives playing Trivial Pursuit. I prevailed as the smartest of the Szofers. (Dad must not have been participating). We dolled up that evening to enjoy a fancy dinner in celebration of my brother Zach’s twentieth birthday in town complete with smoky steaks and tasty red wine. The next day was another lazy one spent lounging on the beach. This was followed by a beautiful sunset with even more beautiful alcohol at The Idler. The End. For Photos from this trip, see Michigan in the Photos page or click here.
Since my brother Zach was still a student at NYU and the weather was warming up, Tom and I decided to take advantage and head out for a long weekend in the Big Apple. It was our first flight together (4/8/2010) and Tom, without many flight tickets to his name thus far, stared out the plane window practically the whole time. We arrived to a gorgeous sunny day in Manhattan and watched passerbys as we waited for Zach to greet us in Union Park. The buzz of artsy college hipsters vying for places in the spotlight was ever so present… the city of lights where dreams come true. After a quick tour of my brother’s typical dorm room (a 4 by 4 room with posters taped lazily to the tired walls) we were off on the subway to enjoy the day. We refused to use a cab the entire weekend and succeeded. Our first stop: Times Square. This was not my first time in NYC – my dad took me for my sixteenth birthday – so a lot of my enjoyment came from seeing Tom experience the metropolis for the first time. Honestly, Times Square was just as overwhelming on my second visit with the over-the-top ads, lights, shops, and mass of tourists. Tom and I took some photos, explored Toys’R’Us complete with a full sized ferris wheel inside, passed the famous Radio City music hall and NBC studios, and made our way to Rockefeller Center. We watched some ice skaters and tried to envision the countless concerts and memorable shows which have taken place at that very spot. Next it was time to see the skyline from a higher perspective… 104 floors up to be exact. Elevator after elevator transported us up to the top of the Rockefeller building where we were free to roam around outside and take in the insurmountable views. The picture perfect sights of gaping Central Park on the north and the Empire State Building on the south were enough to keep us up there for over an hour taking it all in. Afterwards we made our way back to ground level where we walked 5th Avenue and met Tom’s good buddy Steve Valenta (living and working in NY post-college) for some fun. We reunited at a local pub where Steve’s company was hosting a free (yes, free!) happy hour of delicious bar food and bottomless kegs. A few hours and few too many beers later, we made it back to the NYU dorm where we met Zach’s roommates, fancied up, and made our way back downtown to Zach’s theatre production dubbed ‘Rehearsal!’… a small yet entertaining compilation of amateur writing and hilarious scenarios. My brother of course played the over-the-top buffoon which he does so well. After the play Tom and I tried out Zach’s motorized scooter and had a few dark beers before meeting back up with Steve and Tom’s other friend Mike Anello who was visiting for the weekend as well. It was a night to remember with people we rarely get to see. The slight hangover and overcast skies failed to damper our moods as we set out early the next morning to explore more of this enchanting town. We happily left the air mattress on the less-than-sanitized dorm floor, grabbed a traditional street vendor hotdog, and were off to Battery Park on the southern tip of Manhattan. We were both pleased to buy some knockoff illegal goodies by haggling street sellers while we waited in line for our ferry ride to Ellis Island. As we sailed closer to the monumental Statue of Liberty, I tried to picture myself as an immigrant years ago who saw the torch-holding lady as their ticket to freedom. The Statue is remarkable from every angle, and absolutely massive from below! (I had never been to see it before, so this was a treat for both of us). We explored the disappointing Ellis Island Immigrant Museum next, and once back on land made our way to the financial district and the unnerving spot where the Twin Towers once stood. This was before the memorials were constructed and the emptiness brought chills to my spine. It was time for some R & R so we found the oldest pub in NYC, McSorley’s, on behalf of my parents’ wonderful suggestion. We were so happy to enjoy this gem of the city! The place has not been vacuumed since its erection in 1854, so the ambiance is that of faded newspaper clippings covering the walls, spider webs and dust hanging from the age-old light fixtures, and tiny mugs of beer served four at a time which come in just two options: light or dark. Yum! We ended up staying longer than planned as we wet our whistles on tiny mug after mug of light brew, bringing us back in time. There was no time to freshen up for our romantic night on the town so we headed straight for Chinatown and then made our way to our destination: Little Italy. Benvenuto! Ciao Bella! We were yelled at in Italian from all sides of the street – the chefs competing for us to enter their restaurant and try their homemade pastas. The smell of tomato sauce and fresh garlic envelopes the quaint cobblestone street decorated in Italian lights hanging overhead. It was as perfect as I’d imagined…which made choosing a place to open our wallets quite the challenge. Though we were starving, we made our way up and down the entirety of the street to experience the little pleasures and finally chose ‘Pellegrino’s’ where we enjoyed mouth-watering homemade pastas and a bottle of red wine amongst fellow patrons of New York. It is still one of our favorite dates we’ve had. A quick change at Zach’s dorm and we were hauling our bags to Steve’s chic and impressive apartment where we were met with a pregame party of over 30 guests. Steve and his gang brought us to their favorite New York hotspot – home to flat screens lining the bar which played 80’s music videos the whole night. A drunken dance party of course ensued. Rise and shine for our last day in NYC – the city that literally never sleeps! Steve joined Tom and I on a walk through SoHo where I taught them how to haggle for stolen merchandise and cheap knockoff watches and sunglasses. We followed with brunch in Madison Square Park, saw the famous flatiron building, and took a brief pit stop in the Museum of Sex where Tom and I were sporadically interviewed by the Dr. Oz show. Yes, we made it on the show; no, the dirty stuff did not. Phew. A relaxing and picturesque afternoon in Central Park was to follow. Tom and I climbed around like kids, duplicated a photo my parents took when they were dating, and laid on the grass among blooming Spring trees. Zach met us with some grade-A grass which led me to puke in the middle of the day in Central Park. Guess I can cross that off my bucket list. Our threesome enjoyed the sunset before Tom and I parted for Times Square again where we spontaneously bought cheap tickets to a live stand-up comedy show. We later changed at Steve’s apartment and tried to make it out before basically falling asleep at the bar. It is safe to say we packed it all in… We left the next morning with “New York, New York” playing in our heads. Our traveling foursome touched down to a friendly welcome by Alli’s local friend Leon who greeted us with an impressively constructed pickup sign and a free ride from the airport into Melbourne. Once in a quiet neighborhood, we each tried our hand at driving a car on the other side of the road. This was a first for me – it was odd to say the least. After some cheap pizza, gelato, and meeting Alli’s Aussie boyfriend Josh, we settled in for our first low-key evening in the comfort of a home. The next day we set out energized and excited to explore the trendy “second city” of Australia. We found Melbourne to have a lot of character – which we gladly met with a lot of shopping! After really splurging on some much-needed Aussie fashion, we walked the many alleys of Melbourne – a staple of the city. The alleys are more like works of art, each colorfully painted with both amateur and professional graffiti-style work. The walls are a symphony of rainbows which embody this eclectic city – they wind all throughout the city and lead to new streets with hidden cafes and boutiques. I couldn’t get enough! We spent the day exploring these bustling alleyways, making our way to the city center and famous square – home to the Finder’s Street Station and river walk where we took in the views of the unique skyline dotted with edifices both old and new. We slugged down some crisp pear cider beers on the river, ate at the chic restaurant where Alli worked, and spontaneously decided to take advantage of a deal at a training beauty salon – getting our hair done for just twenty bucks a piece. Score! Brooke, Meg, and I left undoubtedly jealous of Alli’s perfectly curled tresses. The drinking festivities began early with a get together at Alli’s house where Americans joined Aussies in a traditional pre-game party complete with card games and chugging contests. We wearily tasted the Australian staple “Vegemite” to our surprising delight, then hit the streets for some local hotspots. Most memorable was a hidden club in an alleyway which used to be an insane asylum. Good times. We went bar hopping, made our way through Chinatown, and ended the night at a London-style pub. The following day we rallied to explore more of this vivacious metropolis. After indulging at a Pancake Parlor and watching some live street performers, we ventured a bit outside the city to one of the weekend markets, where among the maxi dresses and wax candles we were suddenly met with a deathly hailstorm. The tin roofs of the market shook as the clouds chucked golf ball-sized hail at to the earth. Water rushed through the ground causing mini rivers standing as obstacles in our way to find Alli and Josh who we, of course, had lost. Among the chaos and frenzied shop owners, we managed to score a few free candles out of the ordeal– and ultimately found our lost twosome after about an hour of absurdity. Now there’s an adventure… After drying off back at the house, we enjoyed pregame party number two with new Aussie pals Leon, Ned, Ben, Alex, and Nick, and Josh. Our last night in Australia was spent bar hopping, watching a live band, and downing greasy fast food in the middle of the night. The next rainy morning we took the train around town for the last time and I tried a traditional Australian meat pie before packing up and heading to the airport. We said our goodbyes to Alli and nearly missed our flight to Sydney which would have meant no USA for us. Thank goodness Meg had her running shoes on as she sprinted to the foreign terminal to beg for a last-minute flight change – which the airline graciously granted after seeing her distraught American frown. We cozily settled in for our 20-plus hour flight to Chicago, exhausted from our jam-packed journey. It had been the trip of a lifetime indeed. Maybe someday I will return to this world away from home, but for now, “Good day, Mate”. For Photos from Australia, visit the Photos Page or click here!
Spotting the aqua blue water from the plane window made it real… I was heading to paradise. Brooke, Meg, Alli and I landed safely at the tiny airport in the middle of the rainforest. We grabbed our luggage off a rusty cart before cabbing it in the rain to Airlie Beach about an hour away, taking in views of green shrubbery and rainclouds hovering above volcanic mountains along the way. Upon arrival at the hostel, we didn’t know if we had entered a backpackers’ haven or summer camp. Rows of colorfully painted log cabins wound through the jungle – ours tucked deep into the trees boasting about eight bunks. We quickly met some international friends sharing our bungalow and headed off (after a much-needed shower) to explore the tiny beach town. Airlie Beach is basically a resting point for backpackers about to sail the tropics and dive the famed Great Barrier Reef. It has all the essentials – lagoons and pools at which to chill during the day, restaurants and cheap bars, and some gorgeous views of the ocean. We explored, swam, laid out, met some friends, and booked our three day sailing trip which would commence the next day. We enjoyed some surprisingly yummy Chinese food at a rooftop restaurant, followed by some surprisingly disgusting wine spoiled by the sun. That night, many pitchers of Snakebites later, (delicious red mix of lager and cider), we were teaching foreigners drinking games parked on a picnic bench in a packed backpacker bar. The night concluded at a club Mama Africa where we sipped fruity cocktails and showed off our moves on the zebra-striped dance floor. The next morning Meg, Brooke and I, still not quite used to the time difference, woke at 7am and decided to go for a walk along the beach. We were disappointed by some heavy rain, and prayed to the Aussie gods that this go away before our sailboat departed the harbor. Alli met up with us for some indulgence in a calorie-packed breakfast before some pool time/packing up for our trip and stocking up on cheap beer. 60 beers and some hard liquor should do the trick right? Little did we know we’d have to take the shoelace express all the way to the harbor on the other side of town. (Lugging the many cases of beer in the hot sun is not my fondest memory of Airlie Beach.) There were no complaints, however, as the sun had finally made its entrance – and at the perfect time. Satisfying our inner wanderlust, we anxiously boarded our 83-foot vessel dubbed “The British Defender” where we would live the next few days. We and about 25 other backpackers from around the globe would embark on this sailing trip around the eighty-plus Whitsunday Islands. We made new friends from Ireland, England, France, Sweden, Scotland, Denmark, Australia, New Zealand, Brazil, and more… and made particularly close ties with UK mates Tom, Ryan, and Neil who would keep us laughing the whole trip. The crew of three wasted no time leaving the harbor and setting sail towards, for me, the unknown. Our eclectic gang was instructed to sit port side, feet dangling off the edge just inches from the blue water as we glided through the waves and passed gorgeous island after island. The jutting islands were endless… I could look at that view forever. We celebrated with some cold beers and even got a chance to help by raising the main sail and directed the schooner. After a few hours and about 50 photos, the sun began to drop and the sky began to change accordingly as though it were a choreographed performance. Our crew nestled itself amidst a cove of picturesque islands and dropped anchor for the night. That evening under the stars is one I will never forget. We took turns playing our I-Pods and dancing to songs from everyone’s countries, and stayed up drinking and partying until our sleepy eyes forced us in the cabin to our pint-sized beds. Waking the next morning to a sunrise on the Great Barrier Reef was definitively my favorite moment in Australia. I brushed my teeth with a water bottle and washed it down with a coffee. We were all peacefully euphoric as we ate our gourmet breakfasts, (all of our delicious meals were cooked in the cabin by crew member, the fabulous Lou), and freed the anchor to explore some beaches. First we sailed to the famed Whitehaven Beach, home of secluded white sand beach and amazing views. It is rated one of the top beaches in the world, and for good reason. Our crew were the only people on the beach that day, which made it feel like we were the only people in the world – in our very own slice of paradise. We took some of my all-time favorite photos, explored the long beach, and swam in the shallow blue waters in our embarrassing yet buoyant full-body wetsuits, (to protect from jellyfish season). After a few hours and a short dingy ride back to the British Defender, we set sail for a scenic cove boasting lively coral home to thousands of colorful fish… making it a perfect place to snorkel. Snorkel we did – and I couldn’t get enough! I followed around a giant Maori-head fish (named “Elvis”) that was honestly larger than the size of my body… and found myself venturing further and further from the crowd – in a moment of pure serenity in this amazing underwater world. I peeked my head up once to get my bearings and noted two things: 1) I was the only person still in the water; 2) my sailboat was much tinier than I had remembered. Shit. Thank goodness my crew didn’t forget me, so I paddled my way back to the boat to the laughs of my sun-bathing friends. Another tasty dinner, impressive sunset, and drunken party night later, we sailed back towards land mid-day much to our dismay. After seriously considering quitting our jobs in America and becoming professional beach bums, we reluctantly bid adieu to our crew and had a last ocean side supper with our three English shipmates. Though we were less-than-thrilled to be leaving the tropics, our trip was not over. We headed to the airport to fly south into Queensland, home of the exciting city… Melbourne. I had been counting down the days for months. It was the most expensive thing I had ever bought ($1,350.00 round trip flight) and the farthest I would ever have traveled from my hometown. In February of 2010, it was time for one of my greatest adventures yet… Australia! My friend Alli had moved there for a year starting that August, the ‘free bird’ she is, which gave pals Meghan, Brooke, and I the perfect excuse to loosen the purse straps and embark on the trip of a lifetime. Four best friends exploring the Land Down Under? We couldn’t wait. So we left snowy Chicago one early morning in February to board our first flight which would travel 5 hours to San Francisco, then another 15 hours to our destination across the globe. One panicked moment of confusion with the visas and an easy flight to California later, we were half-awake at 1am sprinting through the massive airport terminals of the San Francisco airport… trying desperately to catch our pricey flight, the wheels eager to take off. About a mile of sprinting later, we made our flight by just minutes. Sigh. Water, please? The flight itself was smooth and painless. Us three slept as though we were drugged, and when I caught my first glimpse of the Australian coast out the foggy window, my heart skipped a beat… we had arrived! We anxiously hauled our ridiculously over-sized suitcases to the train, exchanged our currency for the rainbow money the Aussies use, and stepped outside 45 minutes later to a sunny morning in the heart of Sydney. We could not contain our excitement when we saw the famed Sydney Bridge, standing tall in its glory signifying we had traveled to the other side of the world. We waited around with no cell service until finally we saw Alli running towards us… it had been months! Our obnoxious reunion ended after several minutes of screaming and jumping, and we bused it down to the legendary Bondi Beach where we would stay for the night. We wasted no time in checking in to our dorm-style beach bungalow, changing into swimsuits, and hitting the famous beach in epic weather. Bondi Beach seems to have two rules: 1) you cannot be any older than twenty-eight; 2) your swimsuit bottoms must be up your ass. We rented surfboards and posed as local trendy Aussies. My surfing was not as spectacular as I had dreamed, (a bit scary in fact) – but I rode a few waves on my knee and stood up a couple of times. Good enough for me, so I guess my “Blue Crush” on Kate Bosworth in the splendid film was… ‘crushed’. Brooke unfortunately faired the worst. After mere moments in the salty ocean and one board-to-the-face later, she was back on land holding her lip together amidst gushing blood. (Let’s say it was a shark bite to add an excitement factor to this story). Alli played nurse as she and Brooke found a local hospital for stiches while Meg and I laid out in the hot sun. We are such great friends… Our newly tanned foursome later enjoyed the amazing rooftop views from our hostel, then showered up for a night downtown. We enjoyed a stylish dinner and burgers the size of our heads… then made our way to the streets. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by drunk teens and raging party goers – crowded beyond belief amidst sparkles, rainbows, and nakedness. It was “Mardi Gras” that evening – which is the gay pride parade of Sydney – and we abidingly joined right in. We passed lines of people standing on milk cartons to watch the outrageous parade going on throughout the city – complete with S&M shows and topless performers. We finally found a less festive bar dubbed ‘Mr. Pong’ where I brought some American talent rivaling locals in ping pong games. It wasn’t too much longer before our jet lag forced us back to the hostel for our first night of sleep in Australia. We woke early the next morning to relocate to a second hostel in The Rocks area on the other side of town. I tried some traditional Aussie “brekkie” similar to that in London, (I noted many similarities between the UK and Australia when there – due to obvious reasons), and got psyched for what I had been waiting for… the Sydney Bridge Climb! Call it a bit touristy or over-price, but I will vehemently disagree. We struggled with the idea of forking over the big bucks to embark on the climb, but in the end are so pleased we experienced this moment of a lifetime. We succumbed to the undeniably dorky jumpsuits they made us wear, and were breathalyzed for high alcohol levels. Then we entered the practice gym where we rehearsed how to maneuver the contraption each of us sported on our belts which you drag along the bridge railings the whole way up. After getting an A+ in training, we were off! Each of us got headphones which our guide spoke in to most of the way up, telling the history of the bridge and city itself. Meanwhile, we would follow each other through dark tunnels and up and down steep ladders just to reach the bridge entrance. We walked carefully up the MANY stairs on the top of the bridge, looking down at the cars zooming by beneath our feet. Besides our little belts holding us on, we were completely exposed to the elements. Just us, the wind, and the beautiful cityscape. The final climb up the everlasting stairs was a surprisingly intense workout – and boy were we rewarded at the top. I will always remember standing at the very peak of the bridge, proudly out of breath from the two hour trek, gazing out at the stunning metropolis and eminent Sydney Opera House below. The guide snapped some photos, gave us some time to take it all in, and dragged us away to begin our descent on wobbly legs. We showered off the sweat at our nearby hostel to prepare for some sightseeing. A ferry ride down the river proved to be the best way to see the Sydney Opera House, Bridge, Luna Park, and views of the city. We ate at a trendy restaurant along the river – and then were disappointed (Brooke was particularly distraught) to see the Zoo had closed before letting us play with kangaroos and koalas. Bummer. We walked to the Opera House, the structure of which is so unique. The shapes of the roof, if all put together, would form a perfect sphere. We sipped cappuccinos and watched the sun set over the bridge we had conquered just hours before. After a memorable pregame on our hostel rooftop, we let loose and went bar-hopping. At World Bar, we took rounds of shots out of teapots– and we concluded the night dancing at a packed nightclub to Australian tunes which would become famous in America months later. We woke early the next morning to soak up the last of Sydney. We explored the business district and some city parks before parking on a bench with coffees and fruit in front of a pretty cathedral. There was no time to waste as we made our way to the airport for our short flight north to Airlie Beach on the East coast. We couldn’t contain our excitement for what lay ahead; it was tropical time… To see more pictures from Australia, go to the Photos Page or click here!
Two nights in a hotel, unlimited beer, a couple of meals, all-day ski pass, ski rentals... all for $125 bucks? It was decided… Cascade Mountain, Wisconsin here we come! I had been to this ski spot (just a 3 ½ hour drive due north of Chicago) many times before. I went four seasons in a row with pals from high school, so it was good to go back. Tom’s four siblings and their friends, plus our friends Joe and Molly soon met up in the tiny town of America’s Dairyland. Is it the best skiing? Far from it. But with the right people, a small adventure can be great fun. Our first night was spent chugging beers in the hotel event room. We unfortunately dried all of the kegs with our ravenous thirst that first night, finally calling it quits at 4am. Tom was the first to wake the gang way too early for comfort with a typical “Yes you can” motivational speech to rid our minds of the pressing hangovers. We obediently geared up and hit the slopes. We had great fun with the many runs, jumps, and moguls. At one point some of our fellow skiers (not to be named) reluctantly snapped off their skis to walk down the moguls run rather than brave the scary humps. We laughed it off with some beers in the lounge. After a few more hours conquering the fun runs and stomach-turning jumps, Tom and I became bored of the short runs and bravely opted to trade our four skis for two boards… There we were, two amateurs desperately teaching ourselves to snowboard. Being it was my second time trying to surf on snow I faired surprisingly mediocre, hitting the main runs and keeping up with friends. Tom had no such fate. Some bad wipeouts and a pretty severe concussion later, we were spent. We got back to the hotel, checked Tom’s pupils for signs of brain damage, and recovered with a few early beers. Later we joined Joe and Molly in the hotel hot tub for some R & R. It was a short but sweet trip with great friends… it had been another skiing success!
The six hour drive is not stopping us… me, my sister Ashley, brother Zach, and mom Diane piled into a spacious SUV on our journey to the familiar Boyne City, at the northern tip of Michigan, to ski Boyne Mountain – arguably the best skiing without having to board a plane. Boyne Mountain is like a hidden gem to my family and I. The large amount of long ski runs, consistently ridiculous amount of fresh snow, off-roading tree runs, icy Black Diamonds, and tasty white bean chili have us coming back for more year after year. Our trip there was not without some drama as Diane forgot a key aspect of a roadtrip…. Gas. The fuel tank soon went from “E” to zero, leaving our foursome stranded on a desolate road in 3 feet of snow. Zach tried to emulate a“man’s man” by trekking to a local gas station and filling up a gallon, only to realize his lack in car expertise as he could not figure out how to dispense the fuel into our thirsty tank. Thank goodness for a friendly lumberjack who towed our car and helped get us back in business. A few hours later we had arrived at the adorable ski town. We wasted no time in strapping on some rental boots and hitting the slopes for our first nighttime ski. We skied in between beers at the bar “Eagle’s Nest” perched atop the slopes, and later thawed out by the fire with a cozy game of Scrabble. The next day was all about the skiing! We found some amazing trails hidden in the back slopes behind the chair lifts… the snow was untouched and the trees whipped by as we cut in between obstacles left and right. After some quick hot cocoa and white bean chili at our favorite pub in town, we were off again until the sun slipped away. Diane, the good sport she is, was challenged to some steep icy edges in the pitch black (clearly we weren’t skiing where anyone could find us), and our spills kept on coming. Eventually we tired and turned to the comfort of pizzas, pitchers of brew, and an intense game of Monopoly. We were having so much fun we failed to nightski, knowing we had another long day on the slopes ahead. Our last day was spent conquering new runs and enjoying laugh after laugh. Our gang can get pretty silly, especially when purposely avoiding the rules of the road. Sometimes we think we are expert skiers that can handle towering moguls on Black Diamond runs, only to make our way down having a contest of who will fall the least. Were we exhausted and soaked in melted snow? Absolutely. But our stomachs were as sore as our legs after a weekend of laughs. |
AuthorTorrey-Paige Szofer Archives
March 2016
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