
Time to go, after five years!
Time to go, after five years!
For the last five years, Mark needed to return to Massachusetts in January for doctor visits. Sometimes, I joined him. Not that I wanted to (who prefers to be in the Boston area in the middle of winter?) but because it was my only solution. Other times, I stayed at a house sit. This year, because of our lovely dog, there was no way out. Maya and I would remain in Zesty for those five days.
Mark and I have pretty much been together 24/7 since the day we became a couple in December 2004. Despite our compatibility, I’m quite independent and truly, utterly adore time alone. In the past, I treasured spurts of me-time on visits to Belgium (which didn’t happen in 2019), a few solo days in California, or evenings apart during Mark’s job at Amazon. Still, I’d never been alone in our camper van for more than 11 hours. So how did that work out last January?
Continue readingIf it wasn’t for an interesting job opportunity, Mark and I would never have considered visiting Kentucky. Yet, upon reading what the state has to offer and actually driving through its attractive countryside, we discovered beauty from rolling hills to majestic buildings and from famous events to dark, long caves. We are not alone in our positive findings; we kept hearing about surprising discoveries other campers and visitors made as well.
(Scroll over the image to read captions or click to enlarge.)
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, we thought we’d have time to explore the area during our seven-week job commitment, but the night schedule was too exhausting to venture far on our one full day off. That being said, we found a few fun hikes around lakes near Campbellsville and saved the other attractions until the Amazon job was finished. We actually planned to head south as quickly as possible, that December 25th, but unseasonably warm weather made these Kentucky stops possible.
Continue readingMark, Maya, and I had five weeks to explore the Canadian Maritimes, before my parents would arrive from Belgium. Time flies! Especially when all hiking and sightseeing is postponed on rainy days. We knew we couldn’t circumnavigate Nova Scotia in its entirety, due to long distances, expensive fuel, and time constraints.
Crossing New Brunswick took about a week, then we spent another one in the Halifax area, where we had to choose: travel about the southwest corner of the province or the northeastern part. We picked the latter and headed to Cape Breton Island, many hours and kilometers away.
We hit the Cabot Trail – a famous scenic drive – on the first day of September. Another traveler had recommended we’d drive counter clockwise to take in the dramatic vistas from the best angle, so we did. While pretty, it wasn’t as spectacular as we anticipated; the nicer parts reminded us somewhat of the Acadia National Park shoreline in Maine.
Continue reading“Will you try to go to The Wave when you’re there,” fellow travelers kept asking us as they learned about our plans to visit the Lake Powel area in Northern Arizona. Mark and I had never heard about it, so said, “Maybe.” We rarely plan and certainly not weeks ahead of time. We knew the surroundings of the lake were pretty from Ingrid’s blog and that was it.
When a “Good luck!” followed, we wondered why luck is involved to hike to a sandstone formation. Apparently, there is a lottery involved. “Over 100 people a day apply,” a new friend told us. Hard to believe and it was still too cold to head north, so we kept The Wave in the back of our mind. As more and more people either raved about this destination or wished they could have hiked there, it was time for a quick Google search.
When Mark and I crossed the border into Oregon mid-October, we were welcomed with blue skies and friendly smiles. A tad different from the Olympic Peninsula. An Indian summer had arrived and the outdoors was calling. Before heading into nature again, Mark and I stopped in Portland. We met up with a dear friend we had last seen in Luperon, Dominican Republic, ten years ago. It was another reunion that will make it into a separate blog. As a matter of fact, we reconnected with three sets of friends in this state. I ought to dedicate my next post to all the beautiful friendships we experienced while on the road these last four months.
Portland
The biggest, most vibrant city in Oregon is not its capital. That honor belongs to Salem, which we would visit with friends later on. In Portland, we succumbed to urban camping. We had read about a 24-hour parking lot in the funky Alberta neighborhood, NE of the city center, where one could “settle” for $1.50 a day. This small piece of land, the size of a parking spot, became our home for a couple of days.
Our home base for a couple of days
We explored the popular bar and restaurant scene of Alberta on foot.
We rode our bikes across the Willamette River into the city center to soak up the vibe along the waterfront park (with its many homeless people), downtown and in Washington park.
And then, we had three days left, before we would meet good friends in Monmouth, near Salem. The city life (and its noise) wasn’t very accommodating to our wallets and ears, so east we headed in our camper van, towards the town of Hood River.
The Columbia River Delta
When Mark and I were “done” with Vancouver Island in Canada, the beginning of October, we faced a dilemma: taking the ferry through the San Juan Islands and visit Seattle, or hop on the older alternative and discover the Olympic Peninsula. Since you read the title of this blog post, you know what we decided.
The Olympic Peninsula is a relatively large, remote and “forgotten” appendix in the Northwest of the state Washington. It’s well-known for its rain, rainforest, lush surroundings, and more rain. So, we knew what to expect, when we took Zesty for a spin through this fertile and moss-covered region. The highlight of the area is Olympic National Park, for which our annual national park pass came in handy again. There is a big circular route around this huge wilderness playground, but since we were heading south, we had to choose between the east or the west side. The western road offered more access roads into the park, but the eastern route offered a detour to Port Townsend, a town we’d heard nice things about. We doubted ever coming back this way, so found a solution.
Port Townsend
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