Though I am writing this on a Dominican Republic beach a couple of hours from Santo Domingo where I’ll return to work on Tuesday, I’m reliving the mountain escape I had while home for the holidays. I’m sorry I missed the snow in Tennessee that arrived just after I flew back to the Caribbean on Wednesday, but I am glad my son and I had clear roads for a trip to the Smoky Mountains while I was there. Cole moved to Knoxville last summer and with each visit I understand more why he likes the city where he chose to work. Nashville’s growth spurt since I’ve been gone has frustrated natives and longtime transplants with the high rise apartments and traffic chaos that came with it. Knoxville feels much like Nashville did before the boom and with the bonus of Gatlinburg one hour away and The Biltmore two (which we plan to see next summer when the gardens are in bloom), it’s a great destination for more than Vols fans.
View of Smokies in the Distance from my son’s area of Knoxville
Tennessee is a hiking and wildlife lover’s paradise. My first morning there while drinking coffee and looking out my son’s sliding doors I saw the usual–a cardinal, squirrels chasing each other–and then something moving in the brush behind his apartment that looked like a bobcat but larger. Then there were two of them. I grabbed my camera to zoom in and started snapping; while focusing and scanning the second creature disappeared.
Whether they were both coyotes (a growing problem in suburban Nashville as well), coywolves or one was a deer that took off like the roadrunner I am not sure, but one of these guys stayed and stared me down. The sighting seemed another sign that 2017 will be full of surprises.
Thrilled to be home for the holidays for the first time in two years, I had wanted to rent a cabin in the Smokies for our family, but with the recent fires we weren’t sure how much of the area had been destroyed and which roads would be closed. Instead we drove to Cade’s Cove and stopped for lunch at Applewood Farmhouse Restaurant, a hot spot for locals and tourists. We saw no fire damage and given the line of cars, neon lights, and ticket sales the Pigeon Forge “strip” was still going strong.
The good news about southern food is the comfort. The better news is there are gorgeous opportunities to hike it off. Living two years in the desert and the last six months in the tropics, I had so missed journeys amidst farmhouses hidden in hills; cows and horses in fields; and cold, crisp air on moss-covered banks beside mountain streams. My questions about the future, usually rushing like water over rocks, are hushed and stilled by a winter forest.
Applewoods was packed with people and home cooking. I couldn’t decide between fried chicken, chicken pot pie, and chicken and dumplings so had all three. The apple fritters with apple butter below…wow.
Beaver Dam
Later in the week Taylor drove up and joined us for some amazing Italian food and a day in downtown Knoxville at Market Square. I highly recommend Altruda’s for an authentic, family-owned atmosphere and The French Market for a quick trip to Paris.
Reviews raved about the family-sized salad and garlic rolls–well deserved praise.
The ziti is amazing.
So many choicesThe Crepe Suzette may have been my favourite treat over a holiday full of scrumptious food.Taylor liked the chocolate crepe and hot chocolate as well, but Cole waited for our next stop, brunch at Tupelo Honey’s.
Macarons to go
For the blueberry jam and biscuits (or the joy of being with my grown kids below)…no words are adequate.
We took a quick walk around Market Square where there are many Sunday brunch places, unique shops, an ice skating ring, and history.
It was New Year’s Eve day so most were indoors waiting for the big party that night.
As we took a shortcut to our car, we happened upon an alley of street art. Again, it seems, technicolor surprises are just around the corner this year.
We saw Arrival, nominated for 2 Golden Globes. Cole had already seen it and thought I’d like it. He was right. Among other vital truths, it stresses that we can’t survive without communication and global collaboration.
Knoxville sunset
As I felt when the holidays were over with my children in London and as most moms feel when the world goes back to work and “reality,” (and though I am forever grateful for the beauty and adventure of the time spent abroad), nothing brings me joy like relationship. Translated: quality time spent with my kids/family. I loved Marrakesh, but it was too far from them. The Dominican Republic, though many hours closer, is as well. They are grown and have lives of their own, but my heart longs to see them more often. We are bonded across miles by blood and years, vacation times spent together, technology and our love for one another. And we’ve learned, or at least I have, that home is what we are to each other–not one place. Good to know since Taylor is in Nashville and Cole is in Knoxville now. (Likewise, my sis is in Nashville but mom is in Kentucky.) And though I’ve learned “home” is wherever I am at peace with God, as a southerner I feel tied to place, to roots, to people–my people–my kids, family, and closest friends. And so my journey back has begun. I look forward this year to following the path God charts to my dream destination.
After a Domincan breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, beans and rice, papaya, mofongo we were back on the van following the blue bus above deep into the jungle. It is estimated the Dominican Republic has 1.5 billion USD in marble, most of it mined in the Samana province. When we explored Mina de Marmol I again wished my dad was with me. He’d worked in a rock quarry for years in Kentucky.
From there we headed to Boca Del Diablo, the Mouth of the Devil, a blowhole where the sea churns beneath and sounds like a dragon breathing until it spews water up and out the cliff’s surface above. I was so excited to get this on video that when I heard the ocean churning I took off too fast across an overgrown path and tripped on the jagged stones under the vegetation. Semi-dehydrated, when I was pulled to my feet and looked down upon a 2- inch strip of skin hanging like crepe paper from bloody gashes in my knee I almost fainted. Thankfully Steve and Sana took my camera and got the shots of the cliff below.
Though only my traveling companions spoke English, a kind lady on our van from Ecuador gave me some antibiotic cream and our guide brought a bottle of water from the cooler. Afraid I would vomit or faint, I poured the water over my head and felt better.
In the van as we headed to the beach, I thought about my first instinct after the shock of being bit by the devil’s mouth.
Blindsided by going down, I turned on myself: What are you thinking going on an adventure like this at your age? Living outside the US? This is all a bad idea.
As my friend, Kim, and I have discussed often, when blindsided we feel shocked and vulnerable as I did in an earthquake in Costa Rica or a van wreck in Morocco. The impact of being taken down unexpectedly shakes lose accumulated hurts and hard times bringing us to our knees literally.
Challenges with this move had been churning in me for awhile and, released by my fall, they blew inside my head. Once I could be as kind to myself as others were to me, I was back on track and headed to the next beach.The next day I’d get a stronger antibiotic
but at our next stop beauty would make me forget the pain and I’d plunge into the cleanest, most beautiful waters I’d ever seen. The salt began healing my body at the gorgeous Las Galeras and I was again so grateful for the chance to see all I’ve seen on this island. Here we played in the water and had delicious fish for lunch.
Pina Colada
The last stop of your beach hop was Cano Frio where the Atlantic creates a freshwater swimming area locals love.
While I enjoy solo travel, this weekend reminded me of the importance of friends wherever we live. Together we are stronger and can pull each other up when, far from home, we fall down.
Long before Pinterest prodded us to create virtual vision boards, Instagram insisted we share in-the-moment bliss, and Facebook fostered travel posts of happy places far, far away, I cut out and saved a magazine photo of a couple walking in the surf of the Caribbean Sea. I was single again, sad, but looked forward to a day I’d be that girl, her cocktail dress blowing in the breeze, as she laughed and leaned into her guy’s shoulder, one arm wrapped around his, the other hand holding a champagne flute. I longed to share such a celebratory moment in paradise… one day (sigh)… with The One who was meant to be—whoever, wherever he was.
Though I still wait in hope to meet him, I have learned to cherish the many people with whom THE One, God, has blessed my life. And over the last twenty years, I stopped waiting to be in a romantic relationship to see the world or show it to my children. Money I have spent on traveling with my family, friends, and students strengthened relationships, made priceless memories, and taught us all something. Likewise, I’ve learned to appreciate solo travel which has given me confidence, courage, and peace I never thought possible. A mentor told me years ago that giving ourselves what we need models self-care to our children and is healthier than waiting for someone else to fulfill us. Travel rejuvenates and like a class taken to improve mind, body, or spirit, it’s an investment in personal growth which positively impacts us and those around us. Yet, though I’d traveled from Moscow to Morocco to Malibu and now live in the Caribbean in Santo Domingo, something inside kept saving the fantasy island resort experience for a hoped-for honeymoon. Until recently…
Though Punta Cana is known for love connections– the 2014 season of The Bachelorette was filmed here– and this 5-star mega-complex in The Dominican Republic is popular for weddings, family vacations,
This family reminded me of Florida vacations with Taylor and Cole. I long for those days but in the words of Disney’s Dori, a family favorite, we have to keep swimming.
and bachelorette/bachelor getaways,
the Caribbean haven cradles single women travellers with comfort. For those of us with grown children on their own journeys, going solo can provide rejuvenation and even reinvention as we navigate this new season of life.
I was impressed by the 85-year history of the Barcelo Group, a family company founded by Simón Barceló in Felanitx (Mallorca, Spain) and later expanded internationally. After scanning The Dominican Republic by helicopter, owners chose Punta Cana–a then deserted stretch of beautiful jungle and beach. Because they bought wide rather than deep as many property owners have since, this resort stretches two kilometres along Bavaro Beach rather than behind a small oceanfront area. The company’s hotel division now has over 100 hotels in 19 countries and its travel division has 685 travel agencies in 22 countries. These figures position it as the third largest hotel chain in Spain, and the forty-second largest in the world.
2) REST AND REVIVE.
Choosing an all-inclusive resort is the best way to rest before and during your stay since everything–where to eat, drink, swim, sunbathe, shop, be entertained, be active, and find transport–is provided. While I enjoy researching and plotting my own travel adventures from restaurants to excursions, planning takes energy and time. For those worn out from home/work responsibilities and constantly making grown up decisions, going with the flow of resorts that offer everything from a bowling alley to a soccer field
to a casino
to live entertainment can be freeing. For those flying into the Punta Cana airport, transfer service to the resort can be arranged as can car rental. Currency exchange is available and stores carry items you may have forgotten, like sunscreen. Upon arrival at reception, get a map to see the lay of the land, and if not interested in the buffet, make reservations for some restaurants which require them and any special services–such as spa or tee times (though you can call from your room to set these up later). I traveled less than three hours from Santo Domingo but was tired and upon checkin rested awhile, then showered before dinner.
Relaxing shower and pampering products provided
Realize as the New Kid at Camp (seriously, the Barcelo complex feels like an amusement park/pleasure palace for adults), it’s normal to feel excited but also strange not having friends or family there to share the experience. A trip to the spa and Wellness Center with use of the private pool outside thanks to Premium Level (this upgrade also provides free internet and personal service in the Premium Level Lounge which serves food and champagne and early and late check-in/check-out when available),
Photos of me by Patirica Fuentes, Community Manager, Barceló Bávaro Grand Resort
a dip in one of the oceanfront pools,
an iced chocolate cappuccino in the coffee/cigar bar,
or room service, minibar, (courtesy of the Premium Club Suites)
In my room were local rums. Mamajuana is a spicy, peppery legend in the area.
and a movie –whatever you need to unwind–will help you relax, recharge and relish your evening and stay ahead.
3) BREATHE AND DWELL IN POSSIBILITY.
Before dinner at the seafood restaurant where I had lobster on the terrace (the Sante Fe Steak House also has seaside dining), I walked barefoot on sugar sand inhaling the sea air. I breathed…exhaled… under a full harvest moon. What would I reap on this trip? As always, I felt warm knowing those I loved to the moon and back were looking up, too. I thought of Van Morrison, Emily Dickinson, and the Creator of the most gorgeous clouds I’d ever seen. Truly, it was a soothing, surreal, “marvellous night for a moon dance,” a time to “dwell in possibility…the spreading wide (of) my narrow Hands To gather Paradise.”
Though the property is so huge shuttles connect its vast offerings, a solo woman traveler can feel safe walking alone at night.
4) EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY.
An all-inclusive (see under “Other Important Services”) vacation is NOT where we count calories. Healthy choices are always available, but dieting? No way. And since we first eat with our eyes… the ambience of open air tables set amidst lagoons, lakes, and gardens makes every meal a feast.
I slept later than usual thanks to the blackout curtains, had coffee on my patio where I was visited by a Moorhen, nicknamed the Chicken-foot Coot because its feet aren’t webbed and it steps high like a hen. Rested, I was ready to step out, too, so I headed to the nearest restaurant just around the corner for something I rarely get–a Southern-sized breakfast. The night before PGA golfers (The Dominican Republic is known for the best golfing in the Caribbean) gathered in the foyer bar –champagne, cocktails, beer and bachata music flowing. Now hushed except for the tin, hollow sound of clubs hitting golf balls, the course and sky met as a blue-and-green canvas for a new day.
From Dominican fare to all-you-can-eat buffets to a Buffett-worthy Cheeseburger in Paradise, culinary and beverage choices abound. My finest meal was at the French restaurant recommended by the concierge upon my arrival. I had to book for my second night because it was booked the night I arrived.
Warm Salad with Breaded Camembert and caviar (a first for me).Snails A’La BourguignonneThe Chateaubriand was rich and tender. Other choices included Beef Wellington, Pork Loin, Chicken Cordon Blue, and Duck Breast a l’Orange.Chocolate FondantBerries and cream
5) LET YOUR INNER CHILD PLAY.
Remember when you were little and you weren’t afraid to explore, concerned about “getting it right” or impressing others? An all-inclusive where you don’t know a soul allows you to follow Eleanor Roosevelt’s advice: “Do one thing everyday that scares you.” Of course, do what you love. For me, this was dancing bachata on the beach (Romeo Santos had recently done a concert in Punta Cana). Golf, tennis, volleyball, soccer, walking, swimming –do what makes you happy– but leave room to discover a new passion.
Zumba
Maybe learning to like alone time is what you need. Or maybe starting a conversation to make new friends and not just because paddle boats take teamwork.
I loved meeting Patricia who gave me a tour of the property on Saturday and took me out to sea on Sunday. She assists travel bloggers/media influencers, she’s from Spain, loves promoting community and all the Barcelo brand has to offer, and I liked her instantly.
And I finally tried kayaking. It was fun.
So was meeting Harry Lee and Livvy Turner, Brits below who had just arrived. They were in the Caribbean for the first time and were looking forward to ten days of bliss. Harry said they weren’t leaving the property, that he was exhausted by city life. “I am a broken man,” he quipped, “but will return to London with more energy.”
6) LET YOUR INNER CHILD NAP.
Count ships, not sheep, under rustling palm leaves shading you from the sun. And if you can’t sleep, as my mother used to say, rest your eyes and your mind.
In Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert writes:
“Il bel far niente means ‘the beauty of doing nothing’… [it] has always been a cherished Italian ideal. The beauty of doing nothing is the goal of all your work, the final accomplishment for which you are most highly congratulated. The more exquisitely and delightfully you can do nothing, the higher your life’s achievement. ”
Last spring break I’d planned to practice this skill on The Amalfi Coast. Of course, I planned to write and photograph Positano, but that isn’t work to me. Circumstances prevented that trip, but I’m trying to learn the same lesson in the DR. This weekend was a wonderful teacher.
My favorite–pink and blaring bachata.
7) LOOK BACK IN GRATITUDE.
Recall happy times in the past with thanksgiving. If I’ve learned one thing from many Dominicans it is to laugh and sing more.
Too often we’re too tired to remember what day it is, much less yesterday or yesteryear. As has happened a lot over the last two years of living abroad memories of family flood me. In Punta Cana I remembered other beach vacations with women who have strongly influenced my life. The summer in Hawaii with my mom, sister, cousin, and aunt. Another summer in Florida with Mom and her mother, Mama Sargeant–single women for many years like me. I toasted to them with a Pina Colada, the drink my grandmother enjoyed when she became ill and mom moved in with her until she passed. I thought of a month earlier when my daughter, Taylor, and I enjoyed another DR beach together.
8) LOOK FORWARD IN HOPE.
As gentle waves lap the shore the clear, calm waters of the Caribbean invite reflection. Remembering happy times, even hard times, reminds us of all we’ve overcome to get to this place which strengthens us to face, even greet what lies ahead.
Scan the horizon knowing that good is coming. In studying Spanish I realized this week the roots for esperanza, hope, and esperar, to wait or to expect, are the same. Faith says to wait, to expect with hope.
On this lake is the Barcelo chapel where some couples marry.
And on this pier, a group of friends waited for the bride and groom.
What are you waiting for? Some things we can make happen. Others we can’t, so we must trust, wait, and watch. Traveling solo helps us figure out what we want and how, if in our power, to get it. What to hold onto. What to let go of. The beauty of this gorgeous globe gives us peace in knowing the One who created it can work all things together for good.
9) SEIZE THE DAY AS THE BEST SOUVENIR.
We must live in the moment. I agree we can take so many photos trying to capture special times that they truly escape us. Too much staging can kill just being, breathing the experience. And yes, people may laugh at your selfies, but deep down most of us want to remember times we recognize as special pieces of eternity. Even if you don’t typically like to have your photo taken, you will want to remember that you were once in a beautiful place and felt more beautiful for it. I promise. Just as a mom says if the house were on fire and all people and pets were out safely she’d grab baby photos first, one day you’ll want to see yourself in a Caribbean paradise where you grew, changed–even use the photos as your screen saver–so you don’t forget how important it was–it is–to get away and enjoy gifts of beauty and adventure you’ve been given.
While in Punta Cana I read an article in More magazine called, When Looks Fade: An Exercise in Perspective by Christine Lennon who interviewed “The Professionally Beautiful,” asking them how to age with grace. Molly Sims, author of The Everyday Supermodel said:
“It’s funny how I used to look at a picture when it was taken and think, Ugh, I look awful. You look at that same picture five years later, and you think, Dang. I looked pretty good.”
A friend in her 40s recently had professional photos taken to remember this time in her life. My mom did the same in her mid-30s. I get it. Even if you shy from the camera, the best souvenirs of any vacation are photos which capture living -in- the- now forever. At a Caribbean resort photo opps are everywhere and you’ll see many taking advantage of it. Don’t be shy. Help a solo traveling sister out. Ask if she’d like you to take her picture and ask her to take yours. Hotel staff will kindly oblige as well.
Whatever your age or style–girly girl, Bohemian Babe, or mermaid, wear something–maybe a new frock found in shops on the complex– that makes you smile. Though I brought a tropical dress with me–a TJMAXX special–I was thrilled to see new styles of two brands I fell in love with in Spain (Mele Beach in Tarife and Desigual in Vigo) sold at the Barcelo Punta Cana complex.
The beach is your runway. Get creative. Take the plunge. You’ll be glad you did.
10) TAKE A PEACE OF PARADISE HOME WITH YOU.
Peace. Going solo to a Caribbean resort will convince you of what research shows. Though too few people take enough time off, those who do vacation return rejuvenated and more productive. No matter the age. For some of us, the prime time to go solo seems to be when we are trying to survive, even thrive after the nest empties. We are “tweeners”and if we can’t take a gap year, a gap week works, too. Soon–assuming we stay in good health–we may be needed to care for parents and grandchildren. Doing all we can to stay fit–physically, mentally, spiritually–is vital for the ones we love.
We are as young as we feel. I loved seeing women my mom’s age doing Zumba in their bathing suits on the beach. And about those photos and the freedom on your face they will reflect…
Christie Brinkley, 62 year-old author of Timeless Beauty and former Sports Illustrated swimsuit model said, “Aging needs a huge rebranding campaign. People still think of 60 and picture a granny with a shawl and bun. We need to stop lying about our ages. Go ahead and say your number; then you’ll reshape other people’s images of that number.”
Likewise, when people ask in disbelief, You traveled to the Caribbean alone? say, Yes and smile. They may need to be freed, too.
Special thanks to Barceló Bávaro Grand Resort for an amazing experience. As always, the opinions here are my own.
I was excited when my friends, Sana and Steve, invited me to join. Though newlyweds, their kindness and inclusiveness from the day we met blessed Taylor and me. Trusting them as history teachers and adventurers, I did no research but quickly scanned a few photos online and took off. As I’d been thrilled by Venice last January, I wanted Santo Domingo to share some of its secrets as well. I wanted to be surprised. I needed to feel wonder. For awhile I hadn’t had the energy or desire to explore, but last week I’d begin feeling like myself again.
Located just outside the city, Los Tres Ojos (The Three Eyes) costs a mere 100 Pesos/$2 and is open until 5:30 (though ticket sales end around 4:15).
As I journeyed into the dark bowels of the limestone labyrinth leading to underground lagoons, thoughts of spiders made me flinch at water drops from stalactites above. What other creatures might swim and slither within?
The three underground eyes are Lago de Azufre (Lake of Sulfer) discovered in 1916 , La Nevera (Known as “The Fridge” for its icy cold water) and El Lago de las Damas (“The Lake of the Ladies”) where Taino women–first inhabitants of the island of Hispaniola (now Haiti and the DR) — bathed their children.
The second lake was darker than I’d hoped, and Steve and I joked it was the stuff of the Sci-Fi Channel. I remembered a movie about a mutant shark grabbing a victim gazing into an underground river, so though I wanted to take the boat into even darker depths, I was nervous. Normally I’d take photos with flash, but as we crossed the water I was afraid of arousing bats hidden in holes overhead. My trypophobia was kicking in and I remembered, Katherine, my role model for adventure in The English Patient, had survived desert storms and a war but died in a cave.
On the other side, I crept off the boat, peering down into the dark at the slippery rock beneath my feet. Determined not to sink into the river we’d just crossed, I carefully groped my way around a corner of the cavern. Then, as in every miraculous moment of my life, I looked up and all changed.
My eyes filled with light. I hadn’t read that here was hidden the fourth lake–discovered after the park was named for the other three. But unlike the others, this lake opened fully to the sun. To the sky. To the heavens.
My eyes filled with wonder and recognition as another heart’s desire was fulfilled. As I’d dreamt as a girl of exotic Arabian gardens, then saw them come to life in Morocco, I stepped into another secret place I cherished as a child. I’d watched Tarzan movies my whole life–loving most the black and white Sunday morning Johnny Weissmuller films. But here in living technicolor, realtime, were vines hanging like party streamers beckoning Jane to swing. Turns out, this lake was a location for Tarzan films and Jurassic Park. Memories of dying Katherine vanished. Instead I was strong Kate on Lost and smiled remembering my kids’ groans as I’d drag them around Radnor Lake and tell them to pretend we were on the tv series island scouting for treasure. This island, too– just outside my new city– was mysterious, unearthly, ancient. And alive.
We boarded the boat, left that piece of paradise, and climbed up, then down to the third eye–the most most gorgeous blue water dappled with sunlight. On a walk around the perimeter of the park, I marvelled at this tree and its green bean pods fit for a giant.
The fourth lake, Zaramaguyones, was beautiful from above. But somehow, discovering it on the other side of a darkness and fear made it much more breathtaking.
For all my déjà vu movie moments, the expedition reminded me most of a cave of my childhood and its metaphor guiding my second-ever blogpost written so many years ago. It calls me back to my main mission for writing.
When I was a little girl in Kentucky, the Mother of All Field Trips was going to Mammoth Cave. While I was told not to fear the Natural Wonder, I wasn’t all that excited about going deep into the black unknown, feeling my way down damp, winding paths… The tour guide seemed so calm. She had a light to guide us but no map. She had obviously been in that cave before—many times–and was so familiar with it she could have led us through that vast cavern even if the batteries in her flashlight died.
The only good I can make of getting older is that I’ve lived long enough to have gone into some terrible darkness but emerged again into the light…
Though I have survived great losses, I rarely emerged from the black by way of a blowtorch or floodlight. God usually just gave me a candle—one that flickered—and He whispered He wouldn’t let go of my hand even if the flame went out. I still grope but know He’s there. Even if I can’t feel his fingers interlocked with mine. Even if I can’t feel his hand at all and seem to wander in the dark for days…or weeks….or years. I write to share my cave experiences—those I’ve emerged from blinking in the light as well as those I’m still mining through—looking for something of value as I wait and work and wait for release.
The last few weeks I’m often felt confused. Disoriented. Exhausted. I’ve had health issues and struggled at times to embrace all the changes that have flooded my life this year. Selling the home we loved, then transitioning from Marrakesh to Nashville to here has been fraught with questions about where I’ll ultimately put down roots again. Taylor moved back to Nashville and I couldn’t be happier for her as she goes after the life she wants there. As Paulo Coelho said, “Love never keeps a person from pursuing his or her destiny.” We agreed if living abroad wasn’t right for her–as it isn’t for many people–she could be proud of herself for taking this opportunity and return with no regrets. Though I’d hoped we’d have more time together, I’m so thankful for what we shared while she was here. Letting go again is so hard as all parents know no matter how many times the nest empties, but she and Cole are both in really good places and that soothes my soul. In a week he flies to Washington, DC to start his new job in Knoxville–something he’s waited a long time for. I love and miss them both madly.
So in this silent apartment I’ve been spending a lot of time lately with old friends– like Elizabeth Gilbert –who comforted me with these lines from Eat, Pray, Love:
In the end, I’ve come to believe in something I call ‘The Physics of the Quest.’ A force in nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity. The rule of Quest Physics goes something like this: If you’re brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.
As for this new relationship with the DR, I cling to the Message version of Matthew 6:22-23: “Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light.” I’ve experienced beauty, adventure, and relationship here. And caves. Big ones. Beyond my two human eyes is a third one of faith–the door to all things bright and beautiful. I remain thankful for the One who holds, now and always, my family, future, hand, and heart.
Leaving Marrakech was like leaving Oz — a technicolor, over-the-rainbow dream that brought together traveling companions from faraway places who became lifelong friends. Like me, Kate from Australia, Jasna from Canada, and Synovve from Norway discovered within us unexpected courage, wisdom, and heart. I learned so much from these single ladies about reinvention, growth, and joy. They are still in Marrakesh, and I miss them madly. I considered a hot air balloon ride as our final outing together which would have been more in keeping with L. Frank Baum’s classic. Thankfully, Kate suggested The Selman Sunday Brunch (my favorite meal out) which was truly the perfect choice for the end of an era.
Expat friends are for life. Synnove from Norway, Kate from Australia, Jasna from Canada, and I loved our brunch and pool day at Selman Marrakech. Expat friendsBeautiful horses at Selman Marrakech remind me of living on a Kentucky horse farm.A nutmeg-colored horse grazes at Selman while guests enjoy brunch.Arabian horses were brought to Morocco from Saudi Arabia in 700 AD. Selman Marrakech is named for the first horse on the property.
I had forgotten how much I love horses. In another life in the early 1980s, I lived as a newlywed on a Kentucky thoroughbred farm where I saw foals born, mares bred, yearlings sold, and champions raced at Keeneland. Later we moved to Tennessee Walking Horse Country where our children were born. Last Friday I smiled at the symmetry of watching my daughter say goodbye with love to Nashville from a horse-drawn carriage as we saw downtown Music City with the wonder of tourists. In August we move, two single Southern girls, to the Dominican Republic.
Selman is a destination for equestrians and sports travel enthusiasts.
Arabian horse show at Selman Marrakech
At Selman, a family owned and operated luxury property in the top tier of Marrakesh with La Mamounia (also designed by Jacques Garcia) and Royal Mansour, Sunday brunch guests can enjoy the “Horse Ballet.” Mr. Abdeslam Bennani Smires’s private collection of twelve horses, some international champions, graze as guests feed on the best brunch — actually, the best food in terms of quality and quantity I had in all of Morocco. He says of his showplace:
I wanted to create a unique hotel project that offered the traveler a strong portrayal of our culture. The horse, profoundly linked to our history, seemed to me to perfectly encapsulate the spirit. I’ve had the chance to visit the most beautiful stables in the world. And each time, it was an incredible experience. I wanted to be able to offer people the chance to gain access to and share in this otherwise closed equestrian world, to which access is normally only afforded by the invitation of horse owners. I want the guest to be able to enjoy the experience in all its glory. Through doing so, the guest experiences a sense of sharing which is a principle so dear to the Moroccan people.”
Though “thoroughbred” refers to any purebred horse, the Kentucky racehorse is an English breed developed in the 18th and 19th centuries derived from Arabian ancestors. Arabian horses originated in ancient Persia on the Arabian peninsula more than 4,500 years ago. Via trade and war dispatching the animals worldwide, the Arabian’s genetic code is found in almost every modern breed of riding horse. Developed by desert nomads who often kept them in tents forming a natural bond with humans, Arabians are intelligent, strong, fast, and eager to please owners. They are subject to more health issues than other breeds and, like Kentucky thoroughbreds, are considered hot-blooded. Because they are sensitive, spirited, and high-strung, they’re recommended for those with advanced equine experience.
Drama unfolded as Arabian horses made a grand entrance and walked to our tables to Sting’s “Desert Rose”.This magnificent creature reminds me of Anna Sewell’s childhood classic horse, Black Beauty.Perfection
The afternoon was relaxing. Horses made grand entrances from paddocks to Sting’s Desert Rose and performed. We feasted on a sumptuous buffet and enjoyed live Spanish music. After lunch, we wandered the gorgeous property and enjoyed a Sunday nap by the enormous pool and tranquil fountains.
Live Spanish music at Selman brunchBrunch is served on the patios between Arabian horse paddocks and peaceful waters at Selman.Sharing the shade of olive trees with Arabain horses at SelmanDesert rosesSurreal Selman Marrakech Dessert waits in the wings as you enjoy your main course.Steak and lobster is custom-grilled.The Paella is cooked poolside during brunch at Selman Marrakech. The seafood is fresh and delicious. Loved the grilled lobster and beef kabobs at Selman Marrakech BrunchMacaroons are one of many tasty desserts. Don’t miss the chocolate mouse at Selman Marrakech. We agreed it is the best we’ve ever had.Saphire glass, velvet amethyst seating, crystal chandeliers When newly married and living on a Lexington, Kentucky horse farm, we purchased our first piece of art — an equine print. At Selman Marrakech, suites are decorated with equine artwork throughout the hotel.
I was sad when this day ended and sadder still when I flew away. On the ride home, I saw Nicole Kidman in the film, Queen of the Desert, the true story of Gertrude Belle. Though it was set in the Middle East I recognized scene-by-scene shots done in Marrakesh. In a paddock, she talks to a man with an Arabian steed. It was filmed, of course, at Selman.
Desert Rose by Sting
I dream of rain, I dream of gardens in the desert sand I wake in pain I dream of love as time runs through my hand I dream of fire These dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire And in the flames Her shadows play in the shape of a man’s desire This desert rose Each of her veils, a secret promise This desert flower No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this And as she turns This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams This fire burns I realise that nothing’s as it seems…
The only lasting beauty is beauty of the heart. —Rumi
If I’m honest I have to tell you I still read fairy-tales and I like them best of all…For me the only things of interest are those linked to the heart. — Audrey Hepburn
When I moved to Morocco, Taj Palace (now Sahara Palace) where the movie, Sex and the City 2, was filmed, topped my Marrakesh Bucket List. I’d vowed to walk there in Carrie Bradshaw’s shoes, and as I crossed that splendid threshold, I echoed her sentiment: “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Expat friends who have lived in Australia, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, and the Americas agree that our host city offers more sumptuous, stunning respites than anywhere else in the world. As my time living here nears an end, Jasna, Ali, and I enter the gates of Palais Namaskar and another surreal experience.
We see no one, hear no one, so we follow the central walkway as long as the Yellow Brick Road toward a massive door in the distance. On the sprawling four-acre property we pass Oriental arches and epic waterways — backdrops for fashion models, blushing brides, and film stars. Is this The Emerald City or the ancient Arabia of my childhood dreams? I feel like a girl again, kick off my sandals, step off the path, and feel the grass beneath my feet. I’m no longer trying to channel Carrie Bradshaw or anyone else for that matter. After two years in Marrakesh, I’m more comfortable in my own shoes, skin, story than I’ve ever been.
We did a Palais Namaskar pool day on the recommendation of my friend, Julie. How fun it was to sashay across waterway walks, swing in a hammock, and played in the pool with friends. We climbed to the rooftop for sunset and had dinner lit by moonlight.
Inside we were greeted and shown a dressing room for changing clothes. The pool, grounds, and rooftop form a fluid sanctuary where the only sounds are lapping lakes, chirping birds in flight, and waiters scooping crushed ice from shiny silver buckets.
Thanks to Ali for the photos of me. Jasna, hiding from the camera as always, was thrilled to get a break. Love you Canadian girls!
The moon doth with delight /Look round her when the heavens are bare; /Waters on a starry night/Are beautiful and fair.–William Wordsworth
I leave knowing that beauty comes from where we choose to look — not into a mirror probing for wrinkles or blemishes nor through a magnifying glass scanning for defects in others. Wherever we are, we can find beauty, whether looking up at sunsets, down at cool waters, or around at new or familiar faces. Gazing on beauty makes us happy, and happiness makes us beautiful. Audrey Hepburn said, “Happy girls are the prettiest.”
We made memories caught on camera I’ll cherish forever. Proof I’ll show my older self that once- upon- a- time I lived in the magical Kingdom of Morocco.
For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others. For beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge you are never alone.–Audrey Hepburn
Joy is the best makeup.–Anne Lamott
Getting there: Book a stay at this 5-Star resort on their website or search for a deal here. Book a pool day which includes lunch here.
Before I moved abroad, my friend, Dana, told me how important — how vital — my ex-pat community would be. She and I were part of the same school family in the US, and she had a network of close friends at church. Still, having already taught in Morocco and having lived in France, she said the way friends live together, work together, do life together when family and old friends are so very far away is one of the blessings of living abroad. She was right. I was honored to celebrate a birthday with a family who now feels like my own. The Birthday Girl was given royal treatment Morocco-style: Lunch in a Berber home, a mule trek in the High Atlas Mountains, a toast at Sir Richard Branson’s Kasbah Tamadot, and a pool day at Beldi Country Club Marrakech.
I met Kate, my Australian friend and riad manager, a couple of months after moving to Marrakesh. She later moved to the apartment complex where I live with other teachers and locals. Moroccan sorority sisters, we have done meals on rooftops and by pools; walked the souks snapping photos and shopping; relaxed in riads and even a luxury tent. Baby Boomer moms, we have talked about leaving our empty nests to fly to Africa. About wanting and finding more. We talk about our greatest gifts — our children — and recently I met Amy, her youngest who visited Marrakesh a couple of weeks ago. They graciously invited me to join them on the Imlil trip and to celebrate Amy’s birthday at Beldi Country Club. Seeing the two of them together made me more excited than ever about the adventure ahead on the other side of the Atlantic for my daughter, Taylor, and me. More on that later.
On the way back from our lunch and mule tour in the Atlas Mountains, we stopped at Kasbah Tamadot, the luxury resort owned by British billionaire and philanthropist of the Virgin Empire, Sir Richard Branson. Two days ago he gave Sylvia Jeffreys of The Today Show a tour of Makepeace Island, his newest property called “the most beautiful spot in Australia.” Many would say his place here is the most stunning retreat in Morocco. (Update: Kasbah Tamadot was named #1 Resort Hotel in North Africa & the Middle East in the Travel + Leisure World’s Best Awards 2021.)
Kasbah Tamadot was named #1 Resort Hotel in North Africa & the Middle East in the Travel + Leisure World’s Best Awards 2021.The entrance of Kasbah Tamadot welcomes guests into an epic adventure.Kasbah Tamadot is owned by Sir Richard Branson.Kate and Amy have a birthday toast at Kasbah Tamadot after trekking in the Atlas Mountains.Roses in the Desert at Kasbah TamadotAny day spent at Kasbah Tamadot is a celebration.
The next day we were off to Beldi Country Club — a place I’d wanted to see since my former British colleagues, Louise and Richard, recommended it before moving to Abu Dhabi. They had celebrated a birthday there last year and said the bucolic setting was beautiful and relaxing. Indeed it was! Fields of poppies I saw last year in Spain … strawberry fields forever I heard about from the Beatles (natives of Louise’s hometown, Liverpool) … but seeing at Beldi fields of roses was breathtaking.
French owner Jean-Dominique Leymarie bought these fifteen acres in 2005 for a farm. After hosting a wedding party for his daughter, Géraldine, he received so many requests to use the property for weddings and events that he made it into a haven of several pools and gorgeous gardens where expats and tourists gather. Beldi means “traditional” in Arabic. A southern girl who grew up on big family dinners and visiting relatives in the country on lazy afternoons, I felt at home and happy until late afternoon shadows signalled the end of the weekend and time to go.
The gates swing open to a paradise of roses at Beldi Country Club.Birthday Girl Amy visiting from Australia to celebrate with Expat Mom Kate at Beldi Country Club.
There was also an abundance of Bougenvilla, my favorite native flower here which grows as wild as foxglove in England or as lavender in France.
Bougainvillea at Beldi Country ClubWe met a man with a huge bouquet on the way to the pool area.Beldi Country ClubService is premium at Beldi Marrakesh.Lunch by the pool under the olive treesOur server was fantastic.
I loved celebrating Amy with Kate.The grilled kabobs were delicious.Sweet celebrationBeautiful young family enjoying lunch at BeldiSwim time!Time to exploreGarden room at Beldi MarrakechGreenhouse Beldi MarrakeshIndoor beauty awaitsOutdoor living ideasSit a spell in rose fieldsChic loungerGorgeous water featureLily pondArt is life.My kind of potting shedPool time!Swim heaven
Last Monday, the temperature in Marrakech reached 108 Fahrenheit/42 Celsius making it the hottest day so far this year. Here pools can be enjoyed year-round, but in May when temps typically range in the 80s and low 90s, the burning question expats and tourists are asking is where to find a cool pool. A Mermaid in Marrakesh, I love doing this kind of research — especially at an iconic 5-star hotel. Four Seasons Marrakech offers a spa and pool pass for escape and self-care for a week or a day.
At the end of March, I returned to Morocco from spring break in Italy, packed away the down jacket I’d been wearing, and grabbed my bathing suit. Truly, the name of the world-revered brand couldn’t be truer than in the Red City. Here spring, summer, fall, and even most of winter, there’s nothing but blue skies, green gardens, and birdsongs. I relaxed by the Quiet Pool … a peaceful place for adults only.
Four Seasons Marrakech offers a safe haven and the best of all worlds… a place to gather with friends and family…a romantic retreat…a space of one’s own. The 5-star luxury resort is designed with the serene, palatial gardens of the Palmeraie yet is only minutes from the magical medina, Marrakech landmarks, and New City Gueliz. Here tourists — especially solo travelers — concerned about navigating a new city will feel secure and experience the exceptional service for which the brand is known.
True to Moroccan culture, Four Seasons Marrakech is family-friendly, so if you’re traveling with children ages 4 – 12, check out the Kids Club as well as activities for older children. Some of my best memories with my children happened while exploring the world. This is why I write guides for moms traveling with children. But I also appreciate that Four Seasons does the planning for moms and provides a family and an adult pool.
Still … Four Seasons is not only for family time, weddings, honeymoons, and anniversaries. It offers women a way to celebrate the sacred relationship we have with ourselves. I was forced to learn self-care twenty years ago when I became a single mom. It was a slow process. I started with going to movies alone, then restaurants, then a B and B annually in the Tennessee mountains. I eventually traveled solo to Costa Rica. After my children left the nest, I moved to Marrakech. Here I’ve found fulfillment in my work, new adventures, and kindred spirits. I’ve also found at Four Seasons a much-needed beauty break for the soul.
I love Veronica Shoffstall’s poem, “Comes the Dawn” (printed below). I would like to find a life partner, but I don’t wait for a honeymoon or a husband to enjoy beautiful escapes. Shoffstall writes, “Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” In Nashville, I once had a garden of fifty roses. Here, I enjoy them, too.
Enjoy the Quiet Pool for Adults Only on a Four Seasons Marrakech Spa and Pool Pass.Four Seasons Marrakech brims with bouquets of roses that make a woman feel special.The garedns of Four Seasons Marrakech as sunshine for the soul.Enjoy a drink and a book in the shade.Perfect DayMom and Daughter robes and roses in Four Seasons Marrakech SpaFour Seasons Marrakech SpaRead more →
Last Saturday I was home for my son’s graduation and my daughter’s birthday. We had lunch with family in the Tennessee hills and watched The Kentucky Derby, traditionally toasted with Mint Juleps.
This weekend I was back in Morocco where I had lunch with friends in the high Atlas Mountains and road mules to the Berber home where we were traditionally greeted with mint tea.
Last week I wished my dad could have seen his grandson graduate, and yesterday I wished he could have ridden with me in a land so rugged, so beautiful. Always interested in American Indian culture and nature, he would have appreciated the history of the Berbers, the indigenous people of the Atlas Mountains and Dades Valley—land like Colorado where he hunted and like Arizona where our favorite westerns were set. Seen from a saddle, the sweeping grandeur of Imlil made me feel like I was in a movie. No wonder. The village is where trekkers come to scale Jebel Toubkal, the highest peak in Northern Africa. Seven Years in Tibet was partially filmed here.
In Imlil, our host, Lahcen of Authentic Toubkal Lodge, met us with the muleteers at our car. He is a friend of Kate who had invited me to join her and her daughter, Amy, just arrived from Melbourne.
Photo by Kate Woods
Photo by Kate Woods
Mules carrying concrete blocks for a new mosque
I’d been in a few Berber villages—one where I entered a rug shop, another a girl’s school, and a couple I’d trekked through with two other hikers, but this was my first private home visit. Just as medina walls can hide secret gardens, village houses made of mud and concrete– seemingly hard and dark–can shelter cozy retreats. Such was the case here. Up the stairs, past a formal salon, then down a decorative hall a door led to a paradise of pure light. From the comfortable, colorful terrace we saw snow-peaked mountains and heard the mosque’s call to prayer.
Lachen made Amy the guest of honor, giving her Berber attire and the charge of making tea.
He explained the proper way to make Moroccan mint tea.
Large bricks of sugar are a must.
As is pouring the tea from the highest position possible.
Salad
Tagine
Photo by Kate Woods
Full and happy, we rested before taking a tour of the house and the village. The rooms’ design details and thoughtful touches–plush blankets, slippers, custom showers and tile — as well as the food, view, and hospitality have earned the home top ratings on Trip Advisor and Airbnb. Though grateful, Lahcen says he doesn’t display awards to persuade customers. Instead he preserves the authenticity of the home where he grew up and is confident “guests will come– inshallah.” He adds that while “money comes and goes” what matters is offering people the best of nature and making them feel at home.
Whether wanting to explore Spain (and other countries’ roads that lead there), pursue a personal dream, ponder in peace, practice wellness through hiking or yoga, learn language, hear stories from travelers around the world, Spanish Steps leads the way in offering options. I fell in love with Spain last year, and experiencing that gorgeous country with Spanish Steps is now high on my Bucket List.
After hiking with Mònica Fernàndez, a talented Spanish and English teacher, through her native region of Galicia, in Southern Spain, and in the Sahara, I am excited to learn she will co-lead tours below with other dedicated members of Owner Judy Colaneri’s Spanish Steps staff including co-guiding with her husband, Alessandro Martinez, October 12-19.
All Camino tour dates in Spain, France, and Italy can be found here. Tours fill up fast so if interested take the step that leads to more here.
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an iced chocolate cappuccino in the coffee/cigar bar,
