All in Travel

Coming Home

Was my bed always this comfortable?  I sink back into the feathery plush and stretch my extremities as far as they can extend as if I’m desperately trying to reach something on the top shelf at the market.  My cool feet burrow into the heavy duvet.  The Columbus streets below are quiet and dark and I graciously welcome sleep.

But there is much that I already miss. 

I Chase Waterfalls for My Health

The car slows as its tires slowly crunch over the gravel.  After hours of driving the winding black ribbons of roads in the Westfjords of Iceland, we come across a tall precipice overlooking toy cars below, signaling that we must be close.

Doors slamming closed and its strength already radiates within your bones.  Thunderous by name, Dynjandi is the most powerful waterfall in the fjords. A series of seven waterfalls in all, stretching to a height of 100 meters.

The Art of Slow Travel

It takes approximately six hours to fly from New York to Ireland.

But seven days sounded more appealing.

Few societies move as quickly as Americans do.  We have allowed ourselves to be bogged down by technology.  Faster always somehow translates to better.  Yet we are physically tired. Emotionally tired.  Sleepy eyes staring at screens.

But there’s an interesting shift that has begun and continues to manifest within our communities. Many are seeking more alternative routes - turning towards yoga, meditation, and mindfulness in order to decompress and reduce the risk of burnout.

How Did I Get Here?

I could not fully wake myself up that morning. 

There was a mesmerizing monotony of the boat swaying with each cut through the dark black waves.  I was told beforehand that there is essentially zero visibility when it comes to Loch Ness.  Why I initially questioned the factuality of this remark, I do not know – for it was immediately clear that the old man was right.  It seemed strange that fresh water could present itself so ominously. The water spilled like ink away from the power of the boat with a gold tinge to the broken waves.  The normal white crest of a wave has no place in Loch Ness.