Author: Gracefully Global travels

Gracefully Global travels

Gracefully Global travels

Assisi, Italy Travel, Travel Opinion

Assisi, Italy: A place to find your inspiration.

by Gracefully Global travels •
Assisi, Italy

I came to Assisi as a solo traveler after several weeks of intense work in Rome, to celebrate my birthday.  It was a fitting way to celebrate a day for me, as part of my identity relates to Saint Francis, who was born in Assisi and founded the Franciscan religious order here in 1208.  Many years ago, before I gave up my home to travel, I was a foster mom to dogs, cats, and a hamster, and Saint Francis is, perhaps, the ultimate animal lover.

I took a train from Rome to Assisi, an insightful trip into why Assisi’s region of Umbria is affectionately known as Italy’s “Green Heart.” So many lush valleys framed by beautiful mountains.  I was caught by surprise, upon arriving at the train station, that there was a steep climb up Mount Subasio still required of my journey to my Airbnb.  My taxi driver was a local and laughed at my Italian slang as he sped up the winding road, up the mountain, as the streets got narrower, and the traffic got sparser.

Assisi, Italy


My Airbnb and my host were both lovely.  It was early March and there was a chill in the air, and a quiteness about the evening.  I stepped outside in search of food, but truly in pursuit of curiosity.  I was ready to finally orient myself to this town I’d been imagining for years.

Assisi, Italy


Assisi is a UNESCO World Heritage site.  I didn’t know that at the time, I don’t believe, but it wouldn’t have come as a surprise.  Dusk on the side of this mountain, winding through Assisi’s expertly preserved medieval streets, with the town spreading down into the sprawling valley ahead with twinkling lights and the occasional sihlohette of a tower, couldn’t have felt more special.

Assisi, Italy


The next morning I set out with a minimal agenda.  I didn’t have a name for it then, but I realize now that I practice slow traveling.  I read up on thoroughly on my destination before I arrive, and then I just go with the flow based on how my days go, and with the aid of locals and Google Maps.  It was a typical windy, March day, and there were very few tourists this chilly morning.  I wandered around, taken with the sincerity of the spirituality of the area, with each passing sign and religious icon.  In addition to St. Francis, St. Clare and St. Gabriel were born here.

Assisi, Italy


I eventually made my way to the major attraction of Assisi: the basilica ordered by the pope to be built for Saint Francis after he died.  The picture at the top of this post is one of the first glimpses I had of the basilica.  I sent it to my mother, and she responded, asking me if my photo was a postcard.   I watched the giant white puffy clouds moving around it, as if by design.

Basilica of San Francesco d'Assisi

As I walked toward the basilica, I came across an opening in the long stone fence that lined the upper piazza.  The door seemed to call to my name, and after walking through it and down a short, dirt path, there was a small tourist office taking donations for the nature trail.  It somehow felt like the perfect activity for the day, my birthday.  There was something enchanting about this place, and it felt like it needed exploring.

Bosco di San Francesco trail outside of Assisi

The trail was easy, and had much informative signage along the way.  I busied myself taking photos of views and plants along the way, until the trail approached a Benedictine complex of Santa Croce, a former home to Benedictine nuns.  I was charmed again by the small garden in honor of the nuns’ garden which was maintained by FAI, the widespread Italian environmental organization that had restored the trails and ran a visitor center out of the complex.  They were running a composting class that day.  I listened in as I explored the chapel that shared a wall, Chiesa Santa Croce.

Chiesa Santa Croce in the Bosco di San Francesco

I continued along the trail which now paralleled a small river, and watched across the river as locals enjoyed the day with their children and pets.  I eventually ran into Torre Annamaria, which looked out over a land art project explained by signage called “Terzo Paradiso” (Third Heaven) by Michelangelo Pistoletto.  I walked along the circular paths lined by 121 olive trees, the beautiful sun shining through the olive branches, contemplating the artist’s third heaven.  There wasn’t another soul in sight.  It was an unexpected and not unwelcome spiritual experience.

Olive trees in Bosco di San Francesco

I emerged from the olive trees and decided it was time to make my way back.  It didn’t take me long to walk back to the basilica, which I explored.  The basilica is actually two churches stacked on top of each other.  I couldn’t recommend them more, no matter what religion or spirituality you identify with.  The church on top tells important stories through the images on the walls, and is really like visiting an art museum, as you walk along the walls and take in the information the images are conveying.  The church on bottom feels like the heart of Saint Francis.  It has a very low-key, welcoming and deep spirituality about it.  I just stood there and took it all in, breathing a long, relaxing breath.

Assisi, Italy

When I finally left the basilica, no tourists were in sight, only priests.  Assisi is one of those towns that most people just see as a day trip, so at night, it feels as if I have the town to myself. The region of Umbria is known for its simple, delicious cuisine, so your dinner is sure to be as soul-nourishing as your day’s adventures. 

Assisi, Italy dining
Trattoria Degli Umbri

Assisi has inspired some very inspirational people.  I hope you’ll visit Assisi and find your own inspiration.

Mexicali, Travel Opinion

An Ode to Street Photography and How it Has Made Me a Better Traveler

by Gracefully Global travels • • 5 Comments

My mother gave me perhaps the best photography advice I’ve ever received: “When you see everyone taking a photo in one direction, turn around and shoot in the opposite direction.”  She gave me that advice for a wedding I was about to photograph.  But my mother had become my photography teacher long before when we first started wandering the streets of Mexicali, Mexico together in the 1980s.

Peggy in the backyard in Bloomington, Indiana
My mom took this photo of me in our backyard in Bloomington, Indiana, when she was pursuing her master’s in photography.

We had fairly recently relocated to El Centro, California by way of Bloomington, Indiana, where my mother had gotten her master’s in photography. She was eager to keep practicing her craft, and the urban capital of Baja California, Mexico, just a few miles away across the border, was the perfect opportunity. It was an ideal setting for her to work on her hip shot photography, a technique in street photography where you “shoot from the hip” instead of putting the camera to your eye and alerting your subjects that you are taking a photo. Many of the famous street photographers at the time were known for their work in urban areas of the United States and Europe, but not so much in Mexico.

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El Centro, California and neighboring Mexicali, Mexico may be neighbors, but are very different places. Mexicali has a population of 690,000 and El Centro has a population around 44,000.

I was very young at the time, around six, and neither my mother nor I spoke any Spanish. We would wander the streets of Mexicali in the daytime, me eying the many window displays we passed, hoping my mom would buy me a little gift in exchange for cooperating with our long walks, and my mother busily focusing on the often chaotic environment around us as she took her photos covertly. We crossed back and forth over the border on foot, lucky to have the privilege of our United States citizenship to cross with relative ease, and the assumed lack of threat or culpability of a young white American mother and her child were also on our side.

Mexicali, Mexico hip shots
This is one of my mother’s hip shots that she took in Mexicali. Click the photo to view the album.

It was meant to be that we were able to cross so easily into this city that was so close yet so different, because the work my mother did was very unusual at the time – and is now unusual again for different reasons – telling stories of the lives of citizens of Mexicali that had not often been told to a U.S. audience. Some days she’d also lug her large format camera across the border and wander into neighborhoods where my mother would charm her way into people’s homes and take their portraits. I would wait for her outside, and the children would try to talk to me, and then tease me when they realized I didn’t speak Spanish.

Simultaneous Moments
These are my mother’s large format photos. Click the photo to view the album.

When I look back on our mother-daughter adventures with ten years of solo travel under my belt, it dawns on me that those formative trips to Mexicali have probably affected my approach and passion for travel and photography more than I ever realized. Following in the spirit of my mother and her hip shot photography, my camera amplifies my curiosity about my environment, encouraging me to be content wandering a city instead of checking off a bucket list, and being drawn in not only by the buildings, art, and views that I pass, but also by the people around them and how they are interacting with each other in these spaces. I am so grateful to have had this rare opportunity as an American to acclimate to being comfortable outside of the U.S. at a young age, a gift that has supported me time and time again.

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My mom and I just a few years ago on a trip to Mexicali just for dinner – no long walks this time.

A great benefit of these uncertain times, where travel and exploration are indefinitely on hold, is the opportunity for artists to work on their craft and organize previous works.  My mother has happily embraced new technologies, and you can view her work on Flickr by clicking here or on the images above.  I’ve embraced a platform that is photographer-friendly called Steller, and have recently put together a collection of some of my favorite street photos in Italy.

Couple on the beach in Cervia, Italy
This is a photo I took on the beach in Cervia, Italy. Click on the photo to see the rest of the collection in my Steller story.

But my love of street photography isn’t just limited to my own work – I take great joy in taking in an exhibit or a book of street photography. Unlike other forms of art where composition can be a dominant element of the work, street photography’s dominant element is often storytelling. I love seeing a street photographer’s photo for the first time that appears, at first glance, forgettable, which is an alert for me that there’s a really good story there for the finding. And then I take the time to figure out what story the photographer found in this photo, and what story it is telling me. They often aren’t the same story, which is beautiful. Some of the most memorable street photography exhibitions I’ve seen have been at Fotografiska (The Swedish Museum of Photography), in Stockholm. But there is also a wonderful photography museum in my home base, the Museum of Photographic Arts, in San Diego, that exhibits incredible work.

One of my favorite street captures: A pair of girls on their way home from school, sharing gossip in front of the Ferragamo headquarters in Florence.

I wrote this article this week because the art of street photography is partially supported by the belief that everyone has a story to tell, so there are infinite quantities of stories to be found in every person we see when we are walking on the street. In this period of tumultuousness and disconnectedness, embracing an art like street photography and the idea that strangers, friends, and perceived enemies alike have an important story to tell, is a way that art can help bring us back together. I hope you’ll take some time to give some street photos a longer look. And maybe even give it a try yourself, when the time is right. Sometimes, shooting from the hip can be a good thing!

Bologna, Life in Bologna, Travel Opinion

Take a Chance on Bologna

by Gracefully Global travels • • 18 Comments
Bologna_Italy

A typical vacation in Italy is usually dominated by stops in Rome and Florence, and possibly Venice and the Amalfi Coast.  But Rick Steves offered some wise advice that inspired me to write this for you: if you only visit a country’s major (and popular) cities, you’ll miss a glimpse of what the culture of that country is truly like.  If I can convince you to amend your Italy travel plans to include at least one city that is not mentioned above, my work here is done.  And my first suggestion is Bologna.

Bologna_Italy

I’m slightly biased because Bologna was my home for nearly five years.  When my master’s program at Carnegie Mellon University offered me a chance at a second degree at the University of Bologna – touted as the oldest university in the world, but I’ve heard rumors that it is the second oldest – I jumped at it, which would mark the first time I was in Italy as an adult.

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As an American, it was hard for me to grasp the size of Italy until I lived there.  Smaller than my home state of California, Italy’s geographic accessibility makes frequent travel very doable, especially because Bologna is in the north central part of the country, making it a major travel hub for accessing the east and west coasts, and for traveling north by train or bus into other European countries.  My numerous weekend trips exposed me to the striking diversity of culture and cuisine within the relatively small geographic area, a reminder of the youth of the nation, unified in 1861.  It was my travels to the towns, cities, and countryside of Italy that helped me understand what made Bologna so unique.

Bologna_Italy

Boasting the world’s oldest university means Bologna is the world’s oldest college town, and if you’ve ever visited a college town, you know they often have a sort of different feel.  The university has affected Bologna more than we’ll ever know, from the arcades you walk under that were added to support the expansion of the upper levels of buildings toward the streets to provide more housing for the students, to the graffiti you see on the walls; so many of Bologna’s signature characteristics are byproducts of the college influence. 

Bologna_Italy

Bologna is known to Italians as the city of “la dotta, la grassa, e la rossa,” which translates to “the learned, the fat, and the red.” The politics stemming from the professors and students making up much of Bologna – “the learned” – differ from most of Italy, resisting fascism and supporting communism for many years.  This is where “the red” comes into play, but some believe “the red” also signifies the beautiful tone of the architecture of the city, which shines red if you ever look at photos taken from high above the city from one of its signature towers.  And “the fat” predictably signifies Bologna’s famous rich cuisine.

As a vegetarian and not so inclined to Bologna’s typical meat-centric dishes, my favorite food memory in the city of “la grassa” is sitting outside on a sidewalk patio of the famous Tamburini along one of the tiny streets in the historic center on a Sunday, and enjoying people-watching, medieval architecture, a bottle of Lambrusco or Pignoletto, and a platter of regional cheeses (and cured meats and mortadella for my non-vegetarian friends), accompanied by tigelle, which are unique circle-shaped flat rolls typical to the region. 

Tigelle and meat on a platter, typical of Bologna cuisine.
My friend’s portion of tigelle and local cured meats and mortadella.

After dinner, there is no shortage of bars and clubs to fill up your night and into the wee hours of the morning if you so choose, as the large student population has also influenced nightlife, making Bologna known as the city of the night.  You can also just grab a bottle of wine or beer at a small market and join the students sitting and socializing in the gorgeous piazzas.

Bologna_Italy

Ultimately, it is Bologna’s environment that won my heart over.  Bologna’s architecture is among the most beautiful I’ve experienced in Europe.  After living in Florence for a year and returning to Bologna, I found myself treasuring the portico (arcade) lined streets even more, marveling at the different styles of porticos. 

Bologna_Italy

And even though I’ve passed them hundreds of times, I will still take the time to admire Bologna’s towers caught in perfect light. 

Bologna_Italy

Some of the towers are open to the public, which give you a chance to catch a view of “la rossa” from high above the city. And the beautiful environment doesn’t stop at the city’s architecture.

Bologna_Italy

Enjoying the famous hilled countryside is as easy as making the popular five-kilometer walk from the historic center on the winding, portico-lined sidewalk to the Santuario della Madonna di San Luca – an icon of the city of Bologna – where you can pay a small fee to enjoy the lookout from the back of the church over the stunning countryside.

I hope this small introduction to Bologna will inspire you to pay a visit to this beautiful city, easily reached by plane, train, bus, or car.  If you are interested in learning more about specific destinations and activities to pursue in Bologna, try visiting the hyperlinks in the article to reach my Instagram and blog posts with more detailed descriptions, or visit one of my other posts linked below.

Cork, Elsewhere, Travel: My stories

How to Kiss the Blarney Stone

by Gracefully Global travels • • 9 Comments

It is a curious practice we have of kissing a 330 million-year-old dirty limestone. Legend has it that those who kiss the Blarney Stone are given the “gift of gab.” What is gab, anyway?  And more importantly, why do we want it?  Being a “talker” isn’t usually the most desirable trait — am I wrong?
Shockingly, kissing the Blarney Stone was not on my shortlist of priorities during my month-long tour of the Irish coast, inspired by Rick Steves.  The city of Cork was on my shortlist, however, a gorgeous city well-worth a visit in southern Ireland, just a two-and-a-half hour train ride from Dublin.  Blarney Castle, where you find the Blarney Stone, is a short trip outside of Cork.
When I arrived in Cork I didn’t have much of an itinerary planned, which is how I like to travel.  My Irish-American father reminded me of the once-in-a-lifetime Ireland trip my great aunts made many decades ago, which had included a trip to kiss the Blarney Stone.  So I thought, sigh, OK.  Twist my arm. Why not?
I started hinting to new Irish friends that I was considering kissing the Blarney Stone, and they were mostly all disgusted with me – in the most positive of ways, of course.  I have become accustomed to being balked at by locals for my tourist activities, as this kind of reaction was akin to what I experienced in Austria when I told people I went to Salzburg partly to visit The Sound of Music locations. And could I really blame the Irish for judging me for deciding to willingly risk infection from swapping spit with strangers for the chance at acquiring the gift of gab?
My Irish friends were more than a few steps ahead of me in understanding this endeavor, as I was starting to realize I had no idea what I was getting into.  My first clue should have been when our tour bus driver included a disclaimer about being afraid of heights before we set off to the Blarney Castle from Cork. Strange, I thought, having imagined the stone fixed in the middle of a glorious garden with a sword sticking out of it.
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I soon discovered my childhood fantasies weren’t anything close to reality.  Shocker.
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After entering the gorgeous-beyond-your-wildest-expectations grounds of the Blarney Castle via a Disneyland-esque entrance, it took me a while to recover from my shock at the beauty of my surroundings and make my way toward the Blarney Castle, where we were told we would find the stone.
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Inside the castle itself there isn’t much to see above what you would expect from an old castle.  You know, the typical dungeon down below and a dusty “kitchen” that looks more like a few piles of old rubble.
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Having been built many hundreds of years before people considered the handicapped in their architecture, the claustrophobic, winding staircase that was the only way to get to the Blarney Stone – which was apparently on the roof – left much to be desired.  It was not my first medieval staircase but it was definitely the most memorable.
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Grateful to see the light of day again on the roof of the Blarney Castle, I took a moment to catch my breath but promptly lost it again when I had a moment to take in the view of the immense and lush grounds from above.  I busied myself taking photos of the view while I worked up the nerve for what came next, which I had by this time understood that this kissing the Blarney Stone business was somehow designed more for gymnasts than your average tourist, requiring you to lay on your back and lean off the edge of the roof and kiss the stone upside down.  Being there early in the day meant no line and not very ample opportunity to fester in my surprise and back out of the whole endeavor.  The dramatic American women who arrived just behind me didn’t calm my apprehension with their loud proclamations of “barely” making it up the staircase, and one woman’s tearful protest and insistence on leaving.
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I also considered sneaking down the exit staircase, but was heartened by the piles of anti-bacterial spray and paper towels sitting by the stone’s setup, and was spurred along by the ladies that had eventually decided to go for it.
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“Your turn” the jolly Irish Blarney Castle worker yelled at me, and the photographer asked me if I wanted a photo.
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I was too busy fending the two off to think much about what was going on, which was that I suddenly found myself hanging backwards, upside-down, to kiss the Blarney Stone.  It was cold, and hard. And dry, thankfully.  The jolly Irish gentleman helped me up, and it was all over before I knew it.
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It took about three minutes to recover from the whole ordeal.  At which time I don’t know that I was overwhelmed with a gift of gab so much as a feeling of relief and – ok, yes, accomplishment – for this small yet important task I had, surprisingly, completed.  While the tradition wasn’t so revered by the local Irish, my experience kissing the Blarney Stone made me feel closer to my aunts that had done the same thing so many years ago, probably as a nod to the heritage that their parents brought with them when they came to the U.S.
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The trip down the staircase was notably easier than going up.  And I spent the remaining time we had allotted by the tour company exploring the grounds of the castle.
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The size and scope of the property and the imagination and meticulousness with which it was tended made me feel like I was winding my way through a living museum of Irish history.
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I could have spent days there learning from the stories that the plants and architecture were telling.
I always say my first visit to a country or city, and even an attraction, is my “throw-away” trip, where I learn what I like and don’t like, and if I want to return, what I would do to make my second visit as perfect as it could be. The Blarney Castle is absolutely a place I will return, and give myself plenty of time to get lost in the gardens. The gift of gab, though, I have plenty of. So next time around, the smooching of the Blarney Stone I’ll leave to my tourist friends.
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Florence, Illustrious Instants, Italy Travel, Travel Opinion

It Even Snows in Florence

by Gracefully Global travels •

Today, on the first day of spring, Florence got its snow.

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Tuscany is not a region of Italy where snow falls very often, so the flurry of white flakes has brought a bit of uncertainty and a lot of joy to all of us.  Without much means for cleaning up after the snow, roads and sidewalks were slippery, and subsequently, schools and some public offices were closed.

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Walking through the city, it felt like a Saturday, when families and couples take the time to enjoy the day together.

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Children and dogs alike rejoiced in the snow;

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and parents offered their creative solutions for making the most of their children’s fun in the snow.

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Today was a long workday for me and my work partner,

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so we took advantage of being out and about

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and dodging snowballs

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on this special day in Florence, that gave us a new perspective on the sites we’ve become so accustomed to looking the same nearly every day.

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The winter wonderland was fleeting, nearly all but disappearing before the sun went down.

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But the memories, and lots of photos, will last forever.

Photo Tours, San Diego, CA

A Halloween walking tour through a San Diego historic neighborhood

by Gracefully Global travels •


San Diego’s North Park neighborhood piqued my interest many years ago when a tiny street called Ray Street dotted with artist studios started welcoming the public to their studios every month.  Prior, I had only thought of North Park as a fairly crime-stricken region of San Diego that was best to avoid.  Fast-forward a decade, and the neighborhood is booming with businesses and new residents, but most artists can’t afford to be there anymore.  A downside of neighborhood redevelopment.  Fortunately, the upsides are numerous, including the creation of the North Park Historical Society in 2007, which is the local group behind the official designation of the North Park Dryden Historic District, which boasts several blocks of California bungalows and Spanish colonial revival homes.  I watch the changing of the seasons jogging the streets of this gorgeous neighborhood as homeowners enthusiastically decorate their already eye-catching homes.

I pass this house every day but just noticed its incredible tree because of all the jolly pumpkins hanging from the branches.

And my favorite season of all to enjoy this neighborhood is – you guessed it – Halloween.  These homeowners are so creative and artistically inclined with their spooky decor.

One of my favorite bungalows in North Park’s historic district dressed up for Halloween.

If you are visiting San Diego or live here, pay a visit and take a nice long stroll at dusk along 28th and Pershing Streets, bordered to the north by Landis Street and to the south by Upas Street, and everything around and between.

Skeletons dancing on doors…

Enjoy a trip back in time, a lesson in California architecture, and a good laugh at these Halloween decorations with a sense of humor.

This home alone is worth the trip. This is just a portion of their extensive decorations.

And the best part is no costume is required.


Although, if you are so inclined, your costume will be admired by the neighborhood joggers, like me, and, no doubt, the homeowners too!

Not so easy to see the black crows in the dark, but they are surrounding this mannequin in this homeowner’s take on Hitchcock’s Birds.

More crows make a theme of scary bird decorations!

A typical North Park streetscape with a pumpkin peeking out from the bushes. 

I didn’t notice this guy climbing out of his grave until I peeked through the fence to take a pic of this darling home.

Black flamingo = genius.

Another great bungalow joining in on the Halloween spirit.

If you’re interested in seeing some fascinating historical photos of the neighborhood and learning more about its history, this PDF by the Save Our Heritage Organisation is a great read.

Dublin, Travel Opinion, Video Guides

Vlog: Gracefully Global Goes to Ireland – A celebration of music on the Emerald Isle

by Gracefully Global travels •

My time in Ireland this year developed in me a love for the Irish that will never go away. Of the many qualities I fell in love with about the Irish is their love of music, poetry, and performance.  This was the connection to my family heritage that I subconsciously sought after.  My grandpa was a first-generation Irish-American and a paid actor in FDR’s Works Progress Administration.  This video prompted my dad to tell me for the first time that my grandpa had also been a singing waiter in Brooklyn.  The pieces of family history are slowly but surely coming together, and I thank my time in Ireland for a lot of that.

Since leaving Ireland, I’ve told so many stories of the special nights in the Irish pubs with locals singing and dancing, that I drove up a bit of demand for sharing the beautiful music and performance that I experienced. So, I decided to make my next vlog be a focus on the music I experienced during my trip.  This is my edit of the sounds from a few of my favorite performances I witnessed, which I paired with video I took on my phone of some of Ireland’s beautiful landscapes. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you make it to Ireland soon.

Oh, and don’t forget to turn your sound up!   🙂

Dad's Guest Blog, Imperial County, CA

The Sonny Bono Salton Sea National Wildlife Refuge

by Gracefully Global travels •

Editor’s note: This column is written by my father, Rich Ryan, who I’ve invited to be a frequent contributor to Gracefully Global as “Dad’s Guest Blog,” as he calls it.  He’s a retired professor, and he keeps himself busy with frequent traveling and writing a column in the local newspaper of my hometown, the Imperial Valley Press.  This particular adventure we shared together along with my stepmom, Estela.  This is the second post in the series, and the first post was written about Salvation Mountain, which you can read by clicking here.  The photos are by me.

To the southwest of Niland’s Salvation Mountain is the Sonny Bono Salton Sea National Wildlife Refuge.  Entry is free. 

The Salton Sea which straddles northern Imperial County and southern Riverside County is an inland saltwater lake that is a stopover for seasonal bird migrations.  The Refuge, a sanctuary and breeding ground for birds, is over 37,000 acres.  The area is huge.

The Sonny Bono visitors’ center is easily accessible from California Highway 111.  It is approximately a twenty-minute drive from Salvation Mountain to the Wildlife Refuge and less than two hours from Palm Springs.  Driving south on  California Highway 111, turn west on Sinclair Road which will bring you directly to the center’s entrance. 

You will pass a series of huge geothermal plants that run along both sides of Sinclair.  Signage is minimal so be alert.  The visitors’ center is not fancy but possesses the basics:  parking, a gift shop, informed docents, restrooms, and shaded picnic tables. 

Next to the center is a large, unshaded viewing platform from which to observe flocks of migrating birds such as white phase snow geese feeding in an irrigated field.  Bring binoculars.  Migrating is the key word.  These birds are not permanent residents so check the website for migrating bird information. 

Why should you visit the Refuge?  The Refuge is situated within the Pacific Flyway.  If you enjoy the outdoors and watching wildlife in their natural state, this is the place to be. 

Birds from all over the western states, northern Mexico and Canada winter over here.  Even during a brief visit, we saw dozens of pelican formations flying over and landing on the artificial islands established in the Refuge’s lakes. 

Thousands of shore birds line the Salton Sea which is about a half mile walk from the visitor’s center.  I was lucky on my first visit to startle a blue heron as I approached on a canal bank road.  A great blue heron taking off is a majestic sight.

Do be weather-wise when visiting Imperial Valley.  This is low desert, and from late spring to early fall temperatures will usually exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  It’s best to visit during the mild winter, late fall, or early spring.  A sun hat and water are must haves.  Enjoy your visit.

– Richard Ryan, Guest contributor
   Instagram: @desert_rich

Italy Travel, Travel Opinion

My first backdoor experience at the Colosseum

by Gracefully Global travels •

I must admit, as far as travel experiences go, visiting the Colosseum never ranked highly on my list of favorites.   Until recently, that is.  The mass confusion entering the Colosseum and the stress of dealing with their stringent yet non-communicative ticket office, followed by feeling pretty much like one of a million sheep, and not much to do once inside other than take selfies or watch other people take selfies really downgraded the experience for me.

When my extended family came to visit Rome and asked me to help them organize their trip, I was struggling my way through the Colosseum website and thought, “There must be a better way.”  And entered, The Roman Guy.  But more on that later.

Normally, Colosseum ticketing options are not ideal.  I’ve had first-hand experience through my work managing on-site logistics for groups of American and Australian university students with CISabroad.  Often we opt to pay the reserved group entry (which is an additional cost on top of the ticket to enter).  The group entry has its own entrance a bit closer to the metro stop than the single ticket entrance, but, ironically, there is always a line at the reserved group entry, and eventually, this “special” entrance converges with the non-reserved single ticket entry line.

A small part of the line to get into the Colosseum.

Being fairly disillusioned with the group entry options, I eventually decided to try arriving early with one of my groups and give the unreserved entry line a go, only to find out after waiting a half hour that I was prohibited from purchasing more than 12 tickets at a time.  I’m not sure how I would have known this rule in advance, but whatever the case, now I finally understood the need for reserving the otherwise unhelpful group entry in advance.

The final solution for entry into the Colosseum is to purchase your single tickets online in advance and print them out at home.  Then when you arrive at the single ticket entry line, you have access to a special line for people who purchased online, which moves a bit faster.

All that to say, there isn’t really an ideal solution.  Until I finally rolled up my sleeves and was determined to find a better way.  That’s when The Roman Guy came in.  The Roman Guy sounds like one guy, but it is actually a robust Italian tour company based in Rome.  They have a lot of different tour options for exploring the Colosseum with a guide such as Colosseum underground and floor tours.\

The idea of having someone else manage the craziness of getting us into the Colosseum was reason enough for me to book, but the tour also resolved my other primary disappointment with visiting the Colosseum: the lack of information about Colosseum history available to visitors.  Having a trained guide would really open up the experience for us, giving us the narrative that would make the place come alive.
The day of our tour arrived, we met our Roman Guy guide, and everything started out smoothly and normally.  But then everything was suddenly different.

The backdoor entry to the Colosseum was empty other than us.

We passed the mobs of people waiting in the three lines I had mentioned, kept walking around to the back of the Colosseum, and stopped in front of a back gate.  I was flabbergasted.  There was no one at this back gate.  Our guide simply called the name of the guard, he came over, opened the door for us, and we walked into the Colosseum.


Instead of the typical mixture of stress, anxiety, and annoyance that I carry with me after finally getting through all of the hurdles to enter the Colosseum, we merely just walked in.  I was in heaven

We then proceeded to walk onto a deck perched just above the floor of the Colosseum.  Every trip I’d made here, I’d seen people on this deck from the other side, and always wondered what this magic place was that was not accessible to us.  Well, now I finally understood.

The view I usually have, without a guided tour, of the exclusive access area to the Colosseum.

This area was regulated by Colosseum staff, and only a certain amount of visitors can be there for a given amount of time (20 minutes or so, maybe a half hour), meaning there was plenty of space to move around and take pictures.  Since The Roman Guy is registered with the Colosseum, they can reserve this special entrance onto the Colosseum floor (and other restricted access areas), and bring people in through the back entrance.

I was such a happy camper that I took a rare selfie.
My stepbrother with his wife, his brother-in-law, and his parents-in-law.

We had plenty of time (and space) to take photos, and then our sweet Roman Guy guide, an archaeologist, started explaining the highlights of the Colosseum’s history.

Our sweet and knowledgeable guide had great visuals to accompany her talks.

We walked around nearly the whole Colosseum together, up to the second level, then ducked here and there, finding shade, water, and places to rest, as she explained fun facts.  My favorite trivia was about the female gladiators.  I had no idea they existed!  We also learned that the ruins across the street were ruins of a gladiator training school.  So cool.

We had a lot of fun.

The second part of our tour took place across from the Colosseum at the Forum and Palatine Hill, where we learned about the fascinating Virgin Vessels, and our guide showed us where Caesar was cremated.  I’d been to the Forum many times but had never noticed the tiny sign that points out this incredible history of the temple, now partly in ruins.

The Roman Forum is so incredible it doesn’t seem real, but there are no historical explanations so we were so glad to have a guide.

I had a few favorite moments, including when she pointed out a piece of what would have been a massive statue, and now all that remains is a foot.  I wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise, and it is rumored to be good luck to touch the pinky so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

Touching the toe for good luck.

The tour finally wound down, and our guide shared one last insight with us.  “Rome is like lasagna,” she said. “It is full of many layers, all of them worth discovering and savoring.”


I loved that moment, as it really made me think, and appreciate all the insight that this lovely archeologist guide brought to our experience that we would have missed if we had done it alone.  It is an experience that I won’t soon forget.

 
 
 

Italy Travel, Travel Tips

How I pick my guides: Enjoying cocktails and sunset with The Roman Guy

by Gracefully Global travels •

Big cities can be quite a puzzle to get to know, and Rome is no exception.  Even tougher still, Rome’s huge tourism economy makes it tricky to discover how to deviate from the beaten path.  I’ve been to Rome about ten times, and I still don’t feel like I could confidently recommend a restaurant for dinner, for example.

When my extended family called me in Bologna a few months ago and told me they’d be in Rome and wanted me to show them around, I knew it was definitely time to brush up on those dinner recommendations, among other things.  It was time to work on my Roman game.  

It was a huge relief when they told me they were willing to spend a bit of money for the experience they wanted to have.  Having a fantastic time in Rome is totally possible without spending much money.  The catch is that it takes quite a bit of advance planning and research, which they didn’t have, and neither did I, really.

I immediately thought of finding them a high-quality walking tour of Rome.  In my work managing logistics for CISabroad, I’ve come to really respect a good city guide.  That being said, not all guides are created equal, as the job requires a curious combination of social aptitude, knowledge, and passion for their city.  If you manage to find a good guide, what they offer is invaluable: a personalized, in-depth local’s perspective on the city you’re visiting. Which is kind of the ideal offering when visiting a new place.

Once I find a guide I really like, and the company they work for is easy to work with, I find I usually like all the guides from that company, and can explore other tours they offer.  But finding that company can be tricky.  For my family’s trip, I was searching for a great guide and a unique tour that didn’t focus too much on history or culture, as my family is more of the sporty type.  So when I stumbled upon The Roman Guy’s Cocktail bars in Rome: Evening Walking Tour, it seemed to be the perfect solution and I booked it immediately.  Let me tell you, my family really appreciates a good cocktail.  The Roman Guy is a big operation, offering many different types of tours, and lots of guides.  They pretty much bent over backward to get my family set up with three tours, with just a couple of days notice.

Piazza Colonna, Rome.

We met our The Roman Guy guide, Fiona, in Piazza Colonna.  She immediately endeared herself to us, admitting she was thrilled to lead our private tour, as she needed to get away from her half-Italian, half-Australian teenage son who had just started his summer break.  “Our apartment is feeling smaller and smaller these days,” she chuckled.  She is the kind of person you hope to meet at a cocktail bar for some fun small-talk with someone other than your family members, who you’ve been talking to 24/7 since your vacation started.

We wove our way to the first bar, and Fiona casually introduced my family to the important landmarks along the way, like the Tempio di Adriano, which was in the neighborhood of the first bar we visited, sporting elegant cocktails and the coolest Jell-O Gin shots set in lemon skins I’ve ever had (ok, admittedly, the only Jell-O Gin shots in lemon skins I’ve ever had).

Lemon wedges with jello Gin shots.

Next stop was the Pantheon, where Fiona explained its intriguing history to my family, filling in the blanks of my less-than-adequate description from when we had been by the Pantheon earlier that day.  What can I say?  My forte is logistics and not history.  I can’t do it all, sigh.

Our guide, Fiona, explains the Pantheon.

With my family sufficiently briefed on the Pantheon, we headed to the next bar, and within a five-minute walk, we found ourselves in a sea of fun and chic bars and restaurants that were anything but tourist traps.  I’ve been in the area of the Pantheon umpteen times, and I never knew it took so little effort to get away from the touristy cafes.  Our destination was Bar del Fico, where Fiona helped me improve my Italian by explaining the origin of their name.  I’d always known that “fico” in Italian was a similar slang word to our version of “cool,” but I had never known that outside the slang, the real definition of the word “fico” was “fig.” 

We loved our cocktails at Bar del Fico.

The bar was named after a beautiful fig tree standing proudly out front, under which crowds of men were hunched over chess boards, playing to their heart’s content amidst the bustling little square full of action and life.  I loved this place, such a great find, feeling so far away from the typical tourist destination, yet actually, just a five-minute walk away.

Playing chess under the fico tree.

Next, Fiona diverted our tour to the French church, San Luigi dei Francesi, to see a Caravaggio painting.  This diversion was a personal passion she wanted to share with us, as she loves art and is fascinated with the life that the painter Caravaggio, a feisty character, led in Rome. 

I love photographing in Rome. There’s beauty around every corner.

As we sauntered to the next bar, she shared stories about Caravaggio’s antics in Rome in the 1600s and pointed out places where he had lived and frequented.  She also stopped to show us how to properly get water from the famous Roman drinking fountains.

Fiona showed us how to properly use a Roman fountain.

Now was the moment I had anticipated: crossing the Ponte Sisto bridge into Trastevere, and enjoying this lovely, spirited neighborhood on a Friday night.  My family would have never gone to this area of Rome if it weren’t for the tour, and were grateful to take in the sunset over the River Tiber from the bridge, and the fabulous vibe of couples and families hanging out, playing music, and taking in the beautiful scene. 

Sunset on the River Tiber.

The next bar was just a short walk from the bridge at the edge of Trastevere, famous for having one of the best cocktail-makers in the city, and a fabulous aperitivo.  My family hadn’t yet learned about the fantastic world of aperitivo, where a drink purchase buys you access to a free, endless buffet. 

The aperitivo buffet!

I, on the other hand, lived on aperitivo when I was a poor student in Bologna.  We fondly call the act of eating aperitivo for dinner “apericena,” meaning, “aperitivo” plus “cena” (dinner).  We apericena-ed happily this evening, enjoying the rambunctious crowd on the patio.

By the end of our cocktails, my family was admittedly exhausted.  It had already been a full evening, and were feeling the jet lag.  Nonetheless, we couldn’t finish the tour without stepping into the famously windy streets of Trastevere, and also not without a bit of dessert.  Fiona had just the place, and we soon found ourselves standing outside of a little bar, Vendita Libri, Cioccolate e Vino, that only offered chocolate shots with raunchy names.  We were thrilled. 

Selecting our chocolate shots.

We all selected our shot, blushed a little when we ordered it, and watched the bartender combine all of the delicious components into little chocolate cups topped with whipped cream. 

The catch was, we were firmly instructed by the bartender that we must insert the entire shot into our mouth, which we all laughed our way through, some of us with more successful outcomes than others.

We ended our evening with a walk to the taxi stand a few blocks away.  My sleepy family got in a taxi and were off.  Fiona and I exchanged a hug and a goodbye, and I walked back to my Airbnb in Trastevere.  To me, that’s the mark of a good tour guide…someone you’d like to stay in touch with.  I hope to see Fiona again on another tour or just around town.  And despite the jet-lag, my family considers this evening on The Roman Guy’s cocktail tour the highlight of their trip to Rome.