4 Days in Iceland

Iceland, July 26–29

Elf house

Summer in Iceland and the UK is so much better than summer in Texas. I packed up and left 110 degrees at the end of July and flew to Reykjavik, Iceland, where the high temperatures were predicted to be in the 50s. The boyfriend and I were going to his cousin’s wedding in England in August, so we tacked on an extra week to visit Iceland and Scotland first. Our Iceland plan included one day in Reykjavik, one day driving the Golden Circle with a night in Reykholt, one day between Vik and Reykholt, and one last day back in Reykjavik. Initially I wanted more time to see all of Iceland but in hindsight I think four days is just right. I feel guilty saying this, but I started to get bored in Iceland.

Day 1

We landed in Reykjavik at 6:30 on Thursday morning, both of us groggy and not well rested from the flight but determined to get adjusted to local time. We booked a rental car in advance, so we picked it up and drove the 45 minutes from the airport into town. (Unlike our previous trip to Cuba where we didn’t/couldn’t book much in advance, we HAD to book everything in advance for Iceland or we would have had nowhere to stay and no rental car.) Andrew had picked Braud and Co, a bakery with a cool mural in downtown, for us to have breakfast.

Braud and Co

The smell of fresh-baked bread in the crisp air was amazing and the pastries and coffee didn’t disappoint. After a quick bite and walk around a few compact downtown blocks, we jumped back in the car and drove an hour and a half to Glymur, a spot not near anything (because it’s Iceland). There were already a few cars parked at the trailhead but nothing crazy. We started on a beautiful hike, an hour out and an hour back with nice climbs, to see a stunning waterfall. We had to cross a river about 30 minutes into the hike, and the first half of it had nothing but a wire to hold onto.

Andrew

We just walked ankle/calf-deep into the rapids and carefully picked our way across slippery rocks until we got to the slippery log to finish the crossing. Exhilarating but freezing. By the time we got back to the river on our return, there were many more people on the trail and the crossing had a wait time.

Glymfur falls

We drove back into Reykjavik, stopped at a grocery store for some essentials (including skyr, the famous Icelandic yogurt that was going to be our breakfast tomorrow), and found our Airbnb just in time for check-in. We had a cute little studio in the back of someone’s main house. It was quiet and private with a little table outside in the yard. We cleaned up, took a tiny nap, and then got up for a cocktail at home before heading into downtown Reykjavik (we bought booze at the airport duty free based on a recommendation from a blog). We wandered the quiet, cute streets lined with simple, painted houses with nice gardens in the front. Reykjavik is a small city and it only took about ten minutes to get to the city center. Andrew had researched in advance and found a dive bar he wanted to check out, Micro Bar.

We stopped by for a beer flight and then kept walking to the restaurant I researched in advance, Grillmarkadurinn. We had to circle the block because we missed it the first time. It was tucked back behind the main row of shops and restaurants in a little courtyard. We didn’t have a reservation but they were able to seat us at the bar. The food was amazing (I had a trio of fish and Andrew had a single fish dish and we shared a side of roasted veggies), and I’d highly recommend anyone wanting a splurge dinner to go there.

My dinner

It was $180 for the two of us, with drinks, which is crazy by my normal standards but is pretty standard for a nice dinner in Reykjavik. You’ve heard it before, but I have to write it: everything in Iceland is expensive.

Clean plates at Grillmarkadurinn

We stopped at a cute café on the walk back for a nightcap but made it home and in bed at a decent hour. Our long day on a non-restful night meant we both knocked out pretty fast. It was still light outside (it’s light almost all night in the summer) but that didn’t keep us up. Unfortunately, the time change caught up to us both at 4:30 am and we were tossing and turning the rest of the morning.

Day 2

Pingvellir

We were up at 8:30 that morning and had our skyr for breakfast in the studio before hitting the road. (Our Airbnb host actually stocked the mini-fridge with skyr for us, but we decided to eat the ones we bought at the store.) We stopped at a gas station for surprisingly delicious coffee (with flavored syrups to choose from) and slowly made our way through the Golden Circle that day. The circle includes three stops at the most iconic Iceland tourist sights: Pingvellir, Geysir, and Gullfoss. Pingvellir is the site of Iceland’s first parliament (Alpingi, which first met in 930 AD) and where two tectonic plates meet (North American and Eurasian). Walking through the valley, we were literally crossing between the two plates. It’s also the site of the most expensive gift shop along the circle, where I made the mistake of shopping. Wait until you get to Gullfoss, where the exact same items are half the cost.

Geysir

Gullfoss

Next up was Geysir, an area of many hot springs and geysers. Geysir itself is one of the many geysers and the namesake of all other geysers, but it’s not active anymore. There’s another one in the area that goes off every 10 minutes, so we saw it and walked around the rest of the area before heading to Gullfoss, a giant, awesome waterfall. Pro tip: Don’t try to park in the lot down the hill (where the signs tell you to turn right), but instead stay on the main road to find a much larger parking lot (with the less expensive gift shop). After walking as close to the falls as we could get and me bugging Andrew to take a million photos because I forgot my phone in the car, we headed out. We were pretty close to our Airbnb but it was too early to check in, so we stopped at a café called Vid Faxa on the way. It was tucked away from the main tourist route so we were the only people there, but it had its own lovely waterfall. Andrew got a beer, I got a glass of wine, and we enjoyed the view and amazing weather without the hordes of tourists. A bride and groom drove up and started having wedding photos taken in front of the falls. Very picturesque.

Vid Faxa

After killing enough time in paradise, we headed to our Airbnb for the night, an actual B&B in the little town of Reykholt. We went in the White House Inn and saw our key waiting for us on the front table. The hotel owners were our running errands, so we went up to our room. We somehow scored the best room in the place, with its own huge bathroom across the hall and a private balcony off the bedroom.

White House

The inn had a patio downstairs with some lounge chairs, so Andrew and I decided to open a bottle of airport wine and read our books for a couple hours (one of my favorite vacation activities). It was sunny and warm, perfectly relaxing. When the owners showed up (a married couple with two kids), they chastised us and another couple staying there for parking so terribly and then offered a ton of suggestions for us. They said the weather was the best they’d had all summer, so we had to go out and do something. No staying in allowed. Unfortunately, doing pretty much anything in Iceland means driving, and Andrew and I had made our way through a significant amount of that wine, so we settled for walking through the little town to a recommended spot for dinner, Mika’s. It was a beautiful walk through rolling green hills and past greenhouses growing all sorts of summer veggies. The myth is that food in Iceland is so expensive because they have to import everything, but I don’t think that’s actually true. I read that most meat and fish is local, and they harness their ample geothermal energy sources to heat greenhouses and grown produce year-round.

Elf house

We made it the restaurant and saw people eating at tables in the backyard. I wanted to be there, but alas, no reservations again so we sat inside. My seafood pasta was generous but it couldn’t compete with Grillmarkadurinn. After a leisurely meal we slowly walked back to the Inn. I dragged Andrew off course so I could talk to some horses grazing in a field. Our plan was to go back on the patio and keep reading, chatting, and drinking when we got back, but the host family was having a cookout with friends and Andrew wasn’t comfortable crashing their party. It was still pretty early, though, and there wasn’t anything else to do. Looking back, this is when my Iceland boredom started to set in. It was still light outside and I wanted to do something…but we couldn’t drive anywhere and there was nothing to walk to. Andrew finally convinced me to read in bed and get a good night’s sleep.

Day 3

Skogafoss

The White House provided a full breakfast in the morning, and we were the first guests downstairs. There was coffee and tea, eggs, meat, cheese, pastries, toast, and skyr. We settled into our feast and the other guests trickled in. There was a Finnish couple, a Japanese and French couple, a Spanish couple, and two Austrian friends. We swapped Iceland stories and photos and listened to the Spanish couple describe spending ten days driving around the whole island, my original hope for our trip. They weren’t really selling it…. It sounded like more of the boredom I started experiencing the previous night. After breakfast we said goodbye to our fellow travelers and lovely hostess and headed to Skogafoss, a waterfall about an hour and a half away.

It started raining but we weren’t deterred. Neither were the droves of other tourists at Skogafoss. The waterfall was towering and impressive. There were hundreds of stairs on the side of the falls, so we got in line and climbed to the top to see the amazing view down the falls. 

Top of Skogafoss

There’s a 14-mile hiking trail leading away at the top of the falls, and this was supposed to be our big hike of the trip. We were going to go as far as we felt (the plan was about three hours out before turning around) and see dozens of other waterfalls along the trail, but unfortunately the rain ruined that. The trail is a grooved dirt path running up and down through the hills and the rain had turned it into a mudslide. We gave it our best shot, going almost an hour out, but when I had to butt-slide down a steep muddy hill, we decided it was time to turn back. I only fell once and butt-slid one more time and there were no injuries, so I’m calling it a success. And despite the rain, it was a gorgeous hike. The hills were an unbelievably vibrant green and we passed grazing sheep. The dark sky against the bright grass and the many waterfalls was dramatic and beautiful.

We made it to the shelter of the rental car and muddied it up with our shoes (and my butt). The rain was coming down hard but we stopped at the fish-and-chips food truck in the parking lot for lunch anyway. It’s a legend on the Iceland travel blogs so we wanted to check it out. I was happy that they offered flavored sea salts to put on the fish and chips (lava salt is the best) and we were cozy in the car scarfing down the food.

Black sand

Then we drove on to Vik, famous for its black-sand beach. It was still pouring when we got to town so we stopped for coffee and a little wool shopping (I found the cheapest item in the store, a hat on clearance for $40) in hopes that the rain would let up so we could go to the beach. But after an hour we had to admit defeat and drove to the beach in the rain. We walked along the black sand for a minute, took a couple rainy photos, and hopped back in the car. Andrew tried to find a geo-cache at a local church but the rain wasn’t helping with that either, so we finally called it quits on Vik and drove to our Airbnb about 45 minutes outside of town. This one was a big letdown. We waited too long to book (about 2 or 3 months before the trip) so there was nothing left in Vik and our place was the best we could find. It was a small hostel and we had a small room and shared a small bathroom with about 6 other people. Someone had showered recently and flooded the bathroom floor with water. It was just gross (and almost $200/night because it’s Iceland). This is when my real Iceland boredom set in. It kept raining all evening but we drove 15 minutes to the nearest restaurant, Grimsla Fjosio, which is part of a family-run cattle ranch. I got delicious mushroom soup with bread and butter and experienced the one good deal Iceland is known for: unlimited soup! It really is the most economical meal, if you’re trying to not spend all your savings. I got a second bowl and some more bread and butter and enjoyed the cozy warmth of the farmhouse restaurant while it kept pouring outside. But then…there was nothing else to do. We were literally at the only public place within 30 minutes of our hostel. I lobbied for driving back to Vik and checking out some tourist spots in town, but Andrew was sick of driving all over in the rain. Out of ideas, I agreed to go back to our gross little room and be bored for the rest of night.

Hallgrimskirkja

Reykjavik

The next morning, we woke up to no power in the hostel, which meant no hot water or coffee and so we packed up and bid good riddance to the place. The rain subsided to a drizzle as we drove back to Reykjavik for our last day in Iceland and I was looking forward to people and shops and things to do. The drive was a couple hours and we tried to stop at what looked like a big park on the way back for a walk, but it wasn’t really a thing, so we gave up and drove into Reykjavik. We parked near Hallgrimskirkja, the iconic church that looks very Scientology-esque to me, and walked in and around it for a bit before hitting up a coffee shop for much-needed caffeine. We spent the next few hours walking along the sea wall (which was much less picturesque than I expected, with industrial parks along it) and up and down the main shopping streets before having lunch at a place called Bastard’s. And then it was time for the Blue Lagoon!

Blue Lagoon

The Blue Lagoon is definitely a tourist trap, but it’s worth it. We reserved tickets online in advance and lined up at our allotted time with about a hundred other people and were efficiently shuffled through the process. We were given a towel and bracelet with a chip in it that allowed us to charge drinks at the bar or facials. Then Andrew and I split up to go through our separate changing rooms. They make you shower naked, then put on your bathing suit, and then shower again. They offer conditioner to put in your hair to protect it from the water, but I’d recommend keeping your head above water. Even with the conditioner, my hair was straw for the next week.

After the ritual baths, I emerged to a little lobby to find Andrew waiting. We headed outside and saw the lagoon. It was beautiful! Even with tourists everywhere the eye could see. The water was a milky blue and steam was rising off the surface. We waded into the warm water and headed right for the facial bar. Our entry tickets included the cost of a silica mask and one drink, so we slathered our faces with white gunk and then happily bobbed over to the booze bar to collect prosecco and beer. Then we bobbed out to the back side of the lagoon where we scored a sweet spot with room to sit away from other people. Even with the crowds, it was easy to find some space and quiet. We let the mask work its magic for the allotted ten minutes and then dunked under water to wash it off, emerging with shiny, happy faces. We hung out in the lagoon for about an hour and then I ran back to the locker room for my phone to take a few terrible photos, and then we drove back into town.

We checked back in to the same studio we stayed in our first night and I tried and failed to revive my hair with a week’s worth of condition before going to dinner at Snap’s, a French bistro about 30 minutes away by foot. It was a nice walk (the rain had cleared up) and dinner was lovely, but still didn’t compare to Grillmarkadurinn (seriously, eat there if you go). 

Micro Bar

After dinner we were out of sightseeing ideas again, but this time we had bars to go to. Hooray! We went back to Micro Bar because we decided it was our local and met a very friendly bartender. He kept taking breaks to hang out with us, and then one of his friends showed up and joined our table. I was being really superficial but couldn’t help loving that our new friend looked like a Viking with a giant red/blond beard and long, flowing hair. Plus his brother was a member of parliament. We had a great time learning about life in Iceland from locals and had to drag ourselves home after midnight (it was still light out). It was tough to leave, but we had an early flight to Glasgow in the morning.

Iceland Tips

• Book everything well in advance. Some of the Airbnbs we wanted were taken by the time we got around to booking. At the airport someone was trying to get a rental car onsite, but there were none available. Plan ahead to make sure you stay where you want and have what you need lined up when you get there.
• Buy wine or liquor at duty free on the flight in. Everything in Iceland is so expensive, and we were happy to have read this tip in advance. We bought a couple bottles of wine and were able to have “cocktail hour” at our Airbnbs before going out for dinners.
• Don’t bother getting cash. Everyone takes credit cards, but you need a PIN at gas stations. All of my credit cards told me I didn’t need to worry about setting up a PIN for European travel, which meant I couldn’t pay for gas with them. Luckily, I had my debit card with a PIN, so we used that for gas each time.
• Stay at the White House Inn if you're near Reykholt.
• Eat at Grillmarkadurinn and Braud & Co. Drink at Mirco Bar.
• Bring a deck of cards or small travel game so you have something to do when your boyfriend won’t chauffeur you around in the rain.

California, 2017

Vernal Falls

Another successful, semi-annual California summit of Sarah, Michele, and Laura is in the books! We spent 2.5 days in Yosemite hiking (including climbing Half Dome) and driving around the park, and 2.5 days in the Monterey area drinking wine, visiting the aquarium, and eating tons of delicious food. Here are a few highlights and photos.

Half Dome Village

View from Half Dome Village

On Tuesday, Sarah flew into LA from NY, where Michele picked her up and they drove 4.5ish hours to the Fresno airport, where I arrived. Then we drove a couple hours (but surprisingly few miles) to Yosemite National Park. We booked a tent with four cot-beds on a wooden floor, nestled in a colony of identical semi-permanent shelters in the Half Dome Village. We arrived a little before dinner time, so we dropped our bags and toured around our little colony. There were hundreds of tents next to a little center with a souvenir shop, grocery store, pizza place, buffet restaurant, and bar.

We had a quick dinner and got ready for an early bedtime. We were going to get up around 5 am for the Half Dome hike, estimating it would take us anywhere from 10 to 14 hours. We met a girl in the bathroom who did it in 10 hours, which instilled a tiny bit of optimism, but she also appeared to be in much better shape than us.

Wednesday morning the alarms were blaring, but we were moving pretty slowly. It was too early for the park shuttle (or breakfast, but Michele brought coffee), so we had to walk almost a mile from camp to the trail head. We started on the trail by 6:30, and it was gorgeous. Towering green trees (I can't tell tree species, sorry) soaring around us, soft dirt surrounding our paved path, a creek babbling by, little woodland creatures scurrying. But then it quickly became steep, and didn't stop for a couple hours. We passed two waterfalls and then slowly plateaued out. We had "lunch" at 9:30 in a nice meadow area by the river where people who don't bring enough water restock their camelbaks on the way down. (Tip if you want to hike Half Dome: I had a 3-liter generic camelbak and a 1-liter Nalgene, which was the exact amount of water one person needs. I also had hiking poles, gloves for the cables, a visor and sunscreen, and plenty of food.)

On the Mist Trail

Cables!

Shortly after lunch (PB&J and trail mix) we got to the second uphill push, which consisted of a bunch of switchbacks for about an hour. Then we came out to a nice, flat vista where we could see Half Dome, and people climbing up the terrifying cables strapped to the side of the rock face. It's way too steep to just hike up, so the park installed cable handrails that you use to pull yourself up the rock face for the final 400 or so feet. My palms started sweating looking at it.

Then we had a bit of gradual uphill before the "granite stairs," also known as the "sub-dome," which is the last uphill push before the cables. It was about 30 minutes of granite steps in switchbacks, and then an expanse of open dome face, but at a low enough grade that you just lean in and walk up it. There's no trail or anything, but the peak of Half Dome is right there, so you just aim for it.

Top of Half Dome

And then we got to a little dip in the terrain. We had completed the sub-dome and were staring at Half Dome. It was a flat reprieve, except that you were walking toward the cables, and you could see the people scurrying up them. All of my pores started sweating. I'm terrified of heights, and this was a doozy. But Michele and I charged forward valiantly (Sarah decided she had enough just before the end of the sub-dome), bracing for the inevitable. We already hiked straight up for almost 7 hours. Of course this shit was happening.

We both knew to bring gloves (anyone considering it: BRING GLOVES. There's a pile of gloves left by other hikers at the base of the cables, but I wouldn't depend on them), so we pulled them out and slid them on our hands like warriors of old preparing for battle. We left our hiking poles at the base of the cables but carried our backpacks with us for water.

Yosemite Falls

Mish and I conferred at the base of the cables and decided I would go first. I walked up, put one hand on each cable (imagine a narrow stairwell, where the railings are thin cables and the steps are wooden planks 10 feet apart and 10 feet straight up and everything else is a rock face steeply leading off to your death), and went for it. It wasn't difficult in the beginning because it wasn't too steep yet. Just step, step, cable, cable, and boom, you're at the first wooden plank. But then it got steeper, and we caught up to a girl having a panic attack on the way up who caused a traffic jam for people trying to go down (did I mention up and down traffic share the same narrow cable staircase?), and it got a little hairier. But I shocked myself by not freaking out about the heights. I was able to chill and look around at each wooden plank I had to stop at, while also encouraging the girl in front of me. It took us much longer than it should have to get to the top, but panic-attack girl made it too and I'm glad I didn't devolve into one of those assholes who yelled at her about keeping it moving so they could go. Slow and steady wins the race for everyone. 

We made it to the top, and stumbled our way toward the edge of Half Dome. As always with these sorts of things, it was anti-climatic. I never get a rush of satisfaction at reaching a peak. I never imagine ticker tape raining down upon me. It's a sweaty, exhausting, drained moment in which I say, "Cool. I'm here." I feel the satisfaction of a hike when I'm at the bottom, looking back up at where I've come from. So Michele and I drank some water, took some photos, and I headed back down as an unchanged human.

But here's the crazy thing. Going down the cables was AMAZING! It was so much fun. I felt like I was at an amusement park. It looked awful on the way up, but on the way down it was a ride. I held each cable in my corresponding hand and slid down Half Dome, stopping when I needed to let people going up pass. It was the best part of the hike, hands down. Super fun.

Fish Hopper on Cannery Row, Monterey

Then we got back to the sub-dome and we had 5+ hours of downhill until we were back at camp. I'll spare you the details because it's like every time I go downhill: awful, painful, grumpy, nothing worth reading about. We made it back to camp after 13 hours. Much worse than the super-fit, friendly girl in the bathroom, but much better than everyone who didn't make it to the top. Overall it was about 15 miles. We took the Mist Trail up (which is steeper but shorter and takes you closer to the waterfalls) and the Muir Trail down (which is longer but has less extreme downhills).

Monterey Aquarium

We were all hobbled and sore, but we made it to the village square for food and celebratory drinks. And then a loooong night of sleep.

I'm going to breeze through the rest of the trip, not because it was less interesting, but because the hike was the formative lynch pin of the trip. And because I got carsick and puked twice on the ride from Yosemite to Monterey and no one needs to read that.

The day after the Half Dome hike, Michele drove us around Yosemite. We saw Yosemite Falls and various other parts of the park. That night we had dinner at our village and took the shuttle to the fancy hotel for drinks.

Sunset, sisters, wine

Vineyards

Lover's Point, Monterey (great for reading)

Big Sur

Andrew Molera Park, Big Sur

The next day we headed out of the park (which always takes a long time) toward Monterey, arriving in time for dinner overlooking the water at what the hostess said was the best table in the restaurant (why she gave it to us will always be a mystery). We went back to our adorable AirBnB for wine and board games. The next day we did the 17-mile drive through Pebble Beach to Carmel, and hit up some wine-tasting rooms in Carmel. We drove out to the Carmel Valley to a couple of tasting rooms and then drove back to town (Mish was being a very good sport and being our driver). Then it was a sunset drink on the beach, another awesome seafood dinner, more board games, and bed. The next day we went to the aquarium, which is so much more expensive than I expected but I'm happy to pay it. Our rental house provided 2 free passes, but it was still $50 for the third admission. Worth it, because they do so much education and conservation work as well. Go to the aquarium!

Big Sur

Sarah and Mish drove out to more wineries that afternoon, but I wanted to walk to the beach with my book and relax. Everyone got what they wanted, and we met up for dinner later at the fantastic Red House. The next day we had breakfast at the Red House again because it was so good, dropped Sarah off at the airport, and Mish and I drove toward Big Sur. The town is still cutoff because of the mudslide, but we were able to do a little beach walk and see some beautiful sights before it was time for me to go to the tiny Monterey airport for my long flights home.

Bixby Creek Bridge, Big Sur

Colorado, May 2017

Continuing the mini-break trend this year, one month after going to West Texas, the boyfriend and I packed up for a long weekend in Colorado. One of his best friends from high school was getting married near Boulder, so we were going for his Saturday wedding and decided to make a long weekend of it. We flew to Denver on a Wednesday night after work, and flew back home on Sunday. Here are a few of the highlights and pictures.

Hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park! The weather was beautiful (sunny and cool); the trail was one of those magical ones where the ground is soft and muffles all the sound so you feel like you're communing with the trees; and there were waterfalls and snow on the ground in spots.

Rocky Mountain National Park

Stanley Hotel (aka The Shining hotel)

I have to include photos of myself
because A and I didn't take
real photos. :-(

Estes Park where we stayed for one night and wandered around the picturesque main street (and swung by the Stanley Hotel because it's obligatory).






Boulder: We rented bikes to cruise around the incredibly bike-friendly city. They even have a bicycle highway network! People can get around the whole town without having the constant threat of death by car that I experience regularly in Austin. First we biked up to Chautauqua Park, but the lack of immediate shade put a damper on my enthusiasm for exercise, so we turned around and headed into downtown. We hit the main shopping street before stopping by the Dushanbe Tea House (built in Tajikistan and shipped to Boulder!) for chai and snacks. And then it was time to try out a couple breweries. We went to Vision Quest where I had a tasty sour beer, and Sanitas where I think I had an IPA (but it wasn't super remarkable).

Dushanbe Tea House

Biking to the next brewery in Boulder

And the wedding, of course, which was beautiful AND included brunch (the best of all the meals). Par for the trip, I only took this photo at the wedding, which shows nothing about the lovely couple, venue, food, or ceremony.

Handsome introvert finds his beer

Thanks for treating me so well, Colorado! I've been stranded at the Denver airport twice, but this trip is a good start to redeeming yourself.

2017: The Year of Mini-Breaks

This guy is getting a lot play time in 2017.

This year I'm hoping to take a few short trips, as compared to my big trip in 2016 (Tanzania). So I'm calling 2017 the Year of Mini-Breaks. There will be one international trip at the end of the year (there has to be, per this blog!), but it won't be a budget-buster like last year, which gives me a little wiggle room for small trips scattered throughout the year. Which turns out to be excellent timing, since the boyfriend has a couple of out-of-state weddings to attend that I want to tag along for. And it allows me to take my semi-annual California trip with my best friend and my sister. Here's my anticipated line up for the year:

• Long weekend in NYC to see the sister: February, already happened
• West Texas with the boyfriend's family: April, already happened, post coming soon
• Colorado (near Boulder) for boyfriend's friend's wedding: May
• Nashville: June, this is a work trip, but I still count it because I'm going to try to find good places to eat (and food = travel)
• Maine (near Booth Bay) for boyfriend's step-brother's wedding: June
• California: August, hiking in Yosemite and lazing in Big Sur with Sarah and Michele
• Cuba (I hope!!): December, week trip with friends and boyfriend

Does anyone have recommendations for any of these spots? Especially food recommendations (vegetarian or pescatarian friendly), but anything that could fit into a long weekend is appreciated!

Tips to Reach Uhuru Peak, Kilimanjaro

Andrew and I successfully summited Mount Kilimanjaro, but it was much harder than I anticipated. Most of what I read in advance said Kili is a challenging hike but it doesn’t require special training or skills. I guess I would agree with that, but Andrew and I definitely did more training than I thought was necessary, and I’m glad we did. In addition, we picked up a couple tricks from our guide (that might have been mostly psychosomatic but either way I’m not complaining) and I brought a couple with me. For anyone embarking on the hike, I’d recommend all of the following.

Train More Than You Think You Should
A full nine months before we headed to Tanzania, Andrew had us on a training schedule. It consisted of one hike a week (on Saturday mornings for us), a weekly Body Pump class at the gym for general strength, swimming for cardio and lung capacity, yoga, and the stair climber at the gym. I thought he was going way overboard, but I’m so, so thankful he did, now that the climb is over.

Specifically, our weekly hikes were key. Three out of four Saturdays a month we’d do a random trail in Austin, but we ended up repeating River Place Nature Trail almost every week. It had the best ups and downs we found in town. The fourth Saturday we’d do the full, ten-mile loop around Lady Bird Lake to build up our stamina (we also biked there and back for some extra oomph). We carried daypacks with water on each hike, but the packs were much lighter than what we ended up climbing with. One thing I’d do differently is to add more weight to the pack to get used to it.

Rest Step
Dustin, our American guide, introduced us to the concept of rest step early in the hike. He said it’s something people do on much harder hikes (Mount Rainier all the way up to Everest), but that it would be helpful any time we were tired and going uphill. It was a little awkward to me, and it involved locking my knees, which I’m fundamentally opposed, but I gave it my best effort. You take a step uphill, plant your stepping foot, and then as your other leg follows, you lock out your standing knee. The idea is that your knee and hip in the standing leg take your body weight as your other leg steps so your muscles don’t tire as quickly. You don’t just do it once; you’re supposed to walk that way, on each leg with each step, for long uphill stretches. It felt really clunky and weird to me, but when Dustin would holler, “rest step!” I’d try my best to obey. I don’t know if it really helped me all that much, but knowing that a professional guide who has gotten people up much harder mountains than Kili believed in it was enough to keep me trying.

Pressure Breathing
This was the second trick Dustin introduced us to. Like rest step, he said people do it on harder hikes but that it would be valuable on Kilimanjaro when the altitude made breathing difficult. It’s really simple and easy to do, as long as you don’t mind looking and sounding like a lunatic around other hikers. You take in a deep breath and then exhale in at least three sharp, fast, audible breaths. It’s supposed to open up your lungs more and allow the bronchial tubes and lung surface to take in more oxygen. Andrew, Dustin, and I all randomly did it throughout the hike, and as soon as we heard one person exhaling loudly, we’d all join in. It was silly but also fortifying. I don’t know if it physically made much difference, but at 18,000 feet, it’s mostly a mental game anyway.

Meditation Tactics
Which brings me to a trick I brought with me to the mountain: meditation. I mentioned doing yoga as part of our routine training. Every Sunday we’d go to a yoga class at the gym and our instructor offered a short, guided meditation at the end of the hour session that people could stick around for it they were interested. I’ve always been curious about meditation, so I stayed every week she offered it. The most basic part I gleaned was to focus on my breathing, even to the point of thinking, “inhale, exhale” with every breath. She also gave us a little mantra to say to ourselves when our thoughts started wandering: “Not now, I’m breathing now.” Very basic stuff, but it got me up Kilimanjaro.

Around the second hour of summit day, I started hurting hardcore. I needed to focus on the basics to keep my mind off my misery, so I tied my breathing to my walking. One step with the right foot = one inhale. One step with the left foot = one exhale. (Yes, we really were walking that slowly!) And I actually thought to myself, “inhale, exhale,” with each step. When you’re making your brain say that, it can’t wander to other thoughts, like how cold it is or how much the mountain sucks or how you want to lay down and take a nap even if it means you’ll get hypothermia. Inhale, exhale. I literally thought that for hours on summit day. Hours. And when I couldn’t sustain that, I’d go to, “Not now, I’m walking now.” I’d feel exhausted and think of a nap, and I’d make myself say, “Not now, I’m walking now.” People would start singing loudly and I’d start to get angry but make myself say, “Not now, I’m walking now.” It all sounds very basic but fluffy at the same time, but if you actually commit your brain to the thoughts, it helps. At least it helped me.

Emergen-C (or any equivalent product)
I loved these little packets of magic on the trail. I was first introduced to them as a hiking aid on the Inca Trail, when one of my trail-mates gave me a packet to add to my water after I puked on the side of trail. When Andrew and I were planning for Kilimanjaro, we knew we would be using water-purifying tablets during the entire hike and that they would make our water taste funky. So I stocked up on packets of the pink-lemonade flavor to cover the taste. I also knew from the Inca Trail that altitude sickness is exponentially worse if you don’t drink enough water, so I didn’t want to give myself any reason to not stay hydrated. Toward the end of the hike I was sick of the packets and found the water tasted just fine without them, but they still got me through many days when I’m sure I wouldn’t have drank enough without them.

Diamox
Get altitude-sickness meds if you’re going hike Kilimanjaro! Just do it, even if you don’t think you’ll need them. It is so much better to have them and not use them then to get five days (and thousands of dollars) in and have to turn back because you’re ill. I started taking them on the second day at the lowest dose so I could add to it if necessary. And it was necessary. By the third day I was taking the lowest dose in the morning and again at night. Andrew stuck with the lowest dose once a day the entire time. Give yourself enough wiggle room to adjust for what your body needs. There’s no shame in taking it; altitude sickness is a beast. When we got back to our hotel in Moshi after the hike, we met a woman who had also just returned with her group. She told us that she made it to summit day, hiked about an hour, but then had to turn back because her altitude sickness was so bad that she was hallucinating trolls and other creatures on the trail. We commiserated and said we couldn’t have made it without our Diamox, to which she responded, “Oh, yeah, I had the pills with me but I didn’t want to take them.” What?? It seemed crazy to Andrew and me, but to each their own. (Except no, don’t be that lady.)

Vocabulary

Mysha morefi!

This section isn’t really going to help you get to Uhuru Peak, but I think it’s fun to learn some of the local language. I have not checked the spelling of any of these words (yes, I know Google is very user-friendly, hush). It’s more fun to see how my brain mishears things anyway, right? So, the limited Swahili I picked up:

Cabisa = all of it (“Laura, how much bread do you want?” “Cabisa.”)
Mogie moto = hot water
Ahsante (sana) = thank you (very much)
Jambo = hello
Zurie = good
Baya = bad
Karibu = welcome (to a place, food, etc.)/you’re welcome
Pole pole = slowly
Rafiki = friend
Lala salama = sleep well
Mysha morefi = long life (“cheers”)

Good luck to future trekkers!

Hiking in Tanzania

Day 1: 6,000 feet to 10,000 feet  

It begins.

We woke up in Moshi at 6:30, had breakfast in the hotel, and then weighed our bags again. Somehow my duffel bag got heavier over night so I had to move stuff over to my daypack, making it uncomfortable and giving me something to whine about immediately. By 8:30 we were loaded up in a van with our guides and cook, driving to the Machame Gate of Kilimanjaro National Park, which sits at an elevation of 6,000 feet. We parked and our Tanzanian guides (Lyimo was our lead guide, and Dao was our assistant guide) started jumping through the necessary hoops to get our hiking permits. Two short hours later, we were off! 

The refrain you’ll hear over and over if you hike Kilimanjaro is “pole pole” (pronounced “po-lay po-lay”). It means “slowly” in Swahili, and it’s essential when you reach the punishing altitudes of summit day. But in the earlier phases of hike, the pole-pole pace set by the guides seemed absurd; Andrew and I kept inadvertently walking too fast. Also part of the summit-day preparations was the schedule set by our guides: hike for an hour, rest for 15 minutes during which they make you eat a little and drink a lot. Again, these precautions are definitely not necessary during the early days, but they become essential on summit day and our guides were trying to establish good habits from the start.  

The first day was a really great hike. We gained a ton of elevation and climbed through two climate zones. We started in a rainforest, tropical sort of environment, complete with monkeys running around the ample tree cover. Then we passed into a more arid environment with craggy rocks and crazy-looking plants. We only hiked 5 hours but I was exhausted by the time we got to camp at 10,000 feet.  

Our porters had our tent set up and our duffel bags waiting for us. They took our water bottles to refill and, in the meantime, directed us to our dining tent, laid out with tea and popcorn. Andrew and I settled in for a nice little rehash of the day and were immediately joined by Dustin (who needs alone time?). Dinner was served at 6:30 by our waiter (who has a waiter on a mountain?!), Sumbi. Our cook, Mola, made vegetarian food for me at every meal, and Andrew and Dustin usually had a meat addition.  

That first night Andrew and I were reading in our sleeping bags by 7:30, and falling asleep by 8:30. 10,000 feet can really take it out of you! 

Day 2: 10,000 feet to 12,600 feet 

We were back up at 6:30 the next morning and I immediately took Diamox, the altitude-sickness pill. I knew from the Inca Trail that I was *probably* susceptible to altitude sickness (I still claim I had food poisoning but deep down I know that wasn’t it), so I wasn’t going to mess around on Kilimanjaro. Today we were going to climb to 12,600 feet, which is almost as high as the tallest point on the Inca Trail, so I figured it was a good time to start Diamox. 

Then we had breakfast in the dining tent (with Dustin) before packing our duffels and hitting the trail by 8:30. 

It was a dusty forest hike with steep ascents that turned into more high plains and desert terrain. The steep ascents continued and we had great views of the Kili summit and Mount Meru off to the west. Before I knew it, we were arriving at camp and I was shocked at how short and easy the day was. The ascents were challenging, but I had braced for worse. And it was only 1:00! 

 

Shira Camp, Night 2

Our tents were being set up and then we had our tea and popcorn again. Our porters also brought us a big bowl of hot water with a bar of soap, so Andrew and I took some basic tent baths. Then we rested in our tent for a couple of hours, me complaining about the amount of black snot I had (seriously, the dust on Kili is crazy) and my sore feet, Andrew suffering mild altitude sickness. Diamox was working great for me, but Andrew waited until that afternoon to take his and it hadn’t kicked in yet. It was affecting my ability to get a foot massage.  

We had dinner and an early night, but I woke up at 3:30 in the morning and had to run out to the toilet tent to pee. It was definitely freezing. My phone had lost almost 70% of its charge in a few hours because of the cold so I shoved it in my shirt when I went back to bed to preserve the battery. 

(Have I mentioned the toilet tent?! It was one of my favorite parts of the hike! It was just a little box on the ground with a toilet seat on top in a tall, skinny tent, but it was always clean. And since everyone else in our group canceled, the tent was only for me and Andrew!! Well, Dustin used it too. But I had anticipated the same nasty toilets I experienced on the Inca Trail, so the private tent was a massive upgrade.) 

Day 3: 12,600 feet to 15,400 feet to 12,500 feet 

We started with the same morning routine but it was definitely colder. We hiked uphill for about 4 hours, taking a 15-minute break every hour of hiking, as usual. It was a difficult slog and my backpack was killing me (we had extra layers because of the cold). At one point Dustin took a bunch of stuff out my pack for me, which was a huge help.  

Lyimo helping Andrew up the Lava Tower

We got to the Lava Tower, which is not technically part of the hike (I think you’re supposed to sign extra forms saying the tour company isn’t liable if you die on the Tower), but Dustin was excited to be with such a small group and that Andrew and I were both in decent shape, so he suggested we give it a shot. Aptly named, it’s a big tower of lava on the side of the Machame Route. Most people take a lunch break at the base of the tower and continue along the trail, but a few people decide to scale it for a little extra adrenaline. Andrew and I were going to be two of those people.  

View from the Lava Tower

I’m strictly a hiker, not a rock climber or boulderer, but the Lava Tower definitely required bouldering skills. Luckily, Dao was hanging out at the tower base with our bags, so we were unencumbered. Lyimo led the way and Dustin brought up the rear, and both guides earned their pay. At various points they each almost carried me and Andrew over crazy cliffs, boulders, and ledges. We made it to the top in about 20 minutes, basked in our pride for a few minutes, and then bouldered back down.  

After a quick boxed lunch we were back on the trail, which I described in my journal as a “shit slog downhill.” It was not enjoyable. My knees were killing me and I was exhausted. But I couldn’t argue with the logic: you’re supposed to hike to a certain height each day and then hike back down to a lower elevation to sleep. It helps people acclimate better and eases symptoms of AMS. Regardless, I hate hiking downhill and was in a foul mood. We had another early dinner at Barranco Camp and I was crawling into “bed” by 7:30. 

Day 4: 12,500 feet to 14,000 feet to 13,000 feet 

Barranco Wall bottleneck

We got to sleep in an extra hour this morning because it was a short day that starts with a trail bottleneck, and our guides thought most groups would be gone if we started later. We left Barranco Camp by 9:30 and before long we were scaling the Barranco Wall, with porters scrambling past us carrying all our gear on their backs and heads. It was a lot up, down, up, and shitty down. I fell. Then there was some more steep uphill and before I knew it we were at camp. Days 4 and 5 were both short because we chose the 7-day route. The people who do the Machame Route in 6 days have to cram in our Day 4 and Day 5 hikes into Day 4. Suckers. 

Typical trail lunch

The altitude was starting to get to me, despite the Diamox. I felt nauseous, food seemed gross, and water made me want to vomit. But I kept chugging the water and eating (I had to move to trail mix instead of the hot lunch Malo made for us that day), and I upped my Diamox dose that night before bed. 

Day 5: 13,000 feet to 15,000 feet 

Today was our “short” day but that’s open to interpretation. We were leaving Karanga Camp and heading to Barafu (High) Camp. It was only three hours that morning, but then we would start the summit at midnight the same day/night. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

My double dose of Diamox was working and I felt much better. It was still freezing at night but I was sleeping with my cell phone in my bra so I had enough battery for photos of the moon-like landscape we traversed that day. Again, it was short, but all uphill and difficult.  

Moonscape

We reached High Camp (which looks like a rock quarry) at noon, rested in the tent until lunch at 1:30, rested again, and packed for the summit (Dustin was making us bring literally every layer we had because it was going to be so cold. Makes sense, except my daypack was too heavy for this giant baby.), and then ate dinner at 6. Dustin gave us the rundown of summit day again and kept our hopes up. After dinner, we “slept” until 11, when we had to get back up. Sumbi brought us some cookies, candy bars, and coffee in the dining tent. And then we had to put our layers on and get going. 

Day 6: 15,000 feet to 19,300 to 15,000 to 10,000 feet

Our routine of hiking an hour and taking 15-minute breaks was all leading up to summit day. Also, just as Lyimo, Dao, and Dustin promised, our pole-pole pace felt too fast to sustain on summit day. It’s unbelievable how difficult it is do anything—walk, breathe, carry a backpack—at 16,000 feet. In addition, every person who was hiking the Machame Route with us was crammed into a small stretch of trail at the same time. There was a crowded line of headlamps stretching all the way up the mountain. One of the groups kept singing like a bachelor party stumbling out of bar at 2:00 am. And to top it all off, I had gallons of black snot dripping out of my nose constantly, but I had on thick gloves and was holding hiking poles so I couldn’t do anything about it. At Andrew’s suggestion, I started trying to shoot snot rockets, but I’d never practiced before and I wasn’t very good.  

At one point (I think it was only two hours in) Andrew asked Dustin to trade places. We had been in the following order: Lyimo, me, Andrew, Dustin, Dao. But Andrew said I had started dragging my right foot every time I took a step, and he was worried I was going to careen of the mountain (I didn’t even know I was dragging my foot). Andrew was having a hard enough time getting himself up the mountain; he certainly wasn’t in a position to save me if I started stroking out. Besides, we were paying Dustin; he might as well be the middle piece of bread in our guide sandwich and catch me if I fell. 

Another of my highlights came when I really needed one of those 15-minute breaks but knew we weren’t close. I asked Dustin how long we had been hiking since our last break and he said it had only been 30 minutes. He asked if I could make it another 15 minutes before our next break and I dispiritedly said okay. The next few minutes felt like hours. Lyimo navigated us off the trail so we could pass a giant group and I began to feel claustrophobic. The bachelor party started “Oy!, Oy!, Oy!ing” again and I had a mini-panic attack. It felt like this was going to be my life, forever, from here on out. I was never going to get off the trail, it was always going to be dark and cold and crowded with Australians yelling in the background and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I started crying and sat down on the nearest rock. Fuck it, it was break time. 

Dustin’s number-one rule for our summit-day breaks was to immediately put on our parkas as soon as we stopped walking to preserve body heat. It was freezing and moving was the only thing keeping us warm. But I was wearing so many top layers already (2 long-underwear shirts, 2 fleece jackets, and a rain jacket) that I couldn't move my shoulders enough to put on the parka. Dustin had to help me; that, combined with the snot all over my face and my spontaneous crying, made me feel like a toddler.. 

Before I was ready, Dustin made us get going again. We packed up our food and water, shoved our parkas in our packs, and hit the trail. But not before Lyimo insisted on taking my backpack for me, even though he was carrying one of his own. I think the guides consider crying to be a red flag. 

Summit Day

The early morning hours slowly dragged out in the same manner, but I managed not to break down again. We kept plodding and breaking and drinking water and apparently I kept dragging my right foot. The sun finally started peaking over the horizon (it boosted my mood significantly) and by the time we made it to Stella Point, it was fully out. Stella Point is right on the rim of the Kili volcano, and is only 500 feet from Uhuru Peak, but it takes almost an hour to walk those 500 feet along the rim to reach the highest point of Kilimanjaro.  

I'm barely moving.

Along the way, we passed a glacier and saw down into the crater. It was stunning but I was also barely able to move one foot in front of the other. I was exhausted and shuffling along miserably. We saw some people walking down the other way, clearly elated at having summited the mountain. I hated them. More comforting to me were the people having breakdowns on the side of trail and the ones being dragged up the trail by their guides.  

Then finally, amazingly, at 7:20 in the morning, we got to Uhuru Peak! There were people up there taking photos by the sign, and their guides were hanging out chatting with each other. I felt overwhelmed and not particularly happy (or sad for that matter, I had no idea how I was feeling), but I started crying again. I didn’t know why and Dao was confused too. He came over with a big smile and said, “You made it! You don’t have to cry anymore!” I nodded and if I could have talked I would have told him I didn’t even know why I was crying, but I also couldn’t stop.  

We stood in line to take our picture in front of the sign, me wiping my eyes and trying unsuccessfully to get it together, leaning on Andrew. He kept turning around to check on me, clearly as confused by my behavior as I was. Finally the group in front of us moved out of the way and we stumbled up to the sign. Andrew and I got a couple pictures of just the two of us and then Dustin and Dao joined us (Lyimo was waiting at Stella Point with my backpack). 

 

Can you see the tears?

After the photo op, I sat on a rock and ate my celebratory Snickers bar, and then we had to head back down. Uhuru Peak is so high that you’re not allowed to hang out up there for long. Heading down to Stella Point was amazing. I felt completely refreshed, and my body wasn’t struggling with each step anymore. I was one of those annoying, cheerful people heading back down and trying to encourage those struggling to make it up. I had been that person just 20 minutes ago, but now it was a whole new world. I could breathe better, I could actually look around at my surroundings as we walked, and I felt happy. 

Going Down 

The stretch of trail from Stella Point back to Barafu Camp was the best downhill I can remember ever doing, but also a little scary. Most of it was loose scree, so rather than actually walking down, we half-skied, half-ran, with a few butt-scoots thrown in for good measure. The few treacherous, rocky downhill parts were easy for me, too, because Dao had realized how much I suck going down and decided to hold my hand, literally, whenever we got to a hard part. It was about three hours to Barafu where we had lunch and packed up, and then we had to keep going down. The camp is too small for anyone to stay the night twice; people who were about to summit needed our spot.  

The rest of the day was more what I expect from descents: pain, misery, broken-knee sensations, and a very slow pace. We made it Mweka camp by 4:30 and I immediately crashed in the tent. I slept through tea and popcorn, dragged myself out for dinner at 6:30 but, with no appetite, I excused myself and went right back to sleep. Andrew and Dustin had a nice, quiet dinner together. 

Day 7: 10,000 feet to 6,000 feet

All done!

We were up at 5:45 the next morning (I think it was so early because Lyimo and Dao understood my pace was going to take longer than they were used to) to eat our last camp breakfast, pack up, and hit the trail by 7. It was another punishing day for me, 4.5 hours of straight descent, but we finally got to Mweka Gate at the exit of the park, passing more monkeys along the way. I decided they’re the Wal-Mart greeters of the Kilimanjaro National Park: they welcomed us on Day 1 and they said farewell on Day 7. 

Andrew and I took a happy photo at the park exit (the relief and joy on my face is genuine) and said goodbye to the mountain that had been our home for a week. It was an exhausting experience, definitely harder than I expected, but hugely satisfying to accomplish. Would I do it again? Nope, one time is plenty for me. But I am glad I did it once!