Road trip: sands, stalagmites and snow in New Mexico

June 07, 2020

New Mexico is the stuff that road trip dreams are made of. Long stretches of lunar-like landscapes with distant peaks that always feel slightly out of reach, the kind of warm heat that you want to sink into and stay in a while. It’s a place for the adventurous, yes, but also the laid-back. Perfect for a solitary long weekend or a weeklong trip with a friend or partner.

White Sands National Park visitor center

I started my trip in Albuquerque, which in pre-covid, fairytale times was serviced by daily nonstop flights on Jetblue from JFK. While the state has started opening up, not all parks are yet open, so be sure to check status before heading out. I drove south from Albuquerque, towards White Sands National Park, passing by the interestingly named town of Truth or Consequences, which is also home to a number of natural hot springs, followed by a classic breakfast of eggs, bacon, and French toast at Sugies Diner in Las Cruces. I arrived at White Sands National Park in the early afternoon and explored as the sky slowly turned from bright blue to deeper purple and pink as the evening crept in and the sun slowly began to set. It’s a place you’ll want to linger, yes, and plan your return.

The sands get their white colour from gypsum crystals - the largest such dunefield on earth. Formed 7,000-10,000 years ago from selenite crystals that over time eroded into gypsum, White Sands National Park is today occasionally subject to closure, as it’s completely surrounded by the White Sands Missile Range. It’s certainly one of the most alien landscapes I’ve ever seen, and it’s easy to park your car at one of many stopping points in the park and quickly get lost in the dunes (be sure to bring plenty of water and know how to make your way back to your car). The deep blue outline of the San Andres range contrasts with the stark white wind patterns etched into the dunes, broken every so often by the thin lines of a determined desert plant. I experienced several dune stages: an initial liberating exploration marked by the sheer pleasure of running fresh tracks and rolling in the sand to feel its warmth; a secondary, more productive phase that entailed resurrecting childhood gymnastics moves; finally, a contemplative phase during which I sat in place, jotting down stray thoughts and having deeper conversations with friends and family in faraway places over the phone.

I would happily have lingered longer, but I’d booked a motel just outside Carlsbad for the night, and a longer drive through the Lincoln National Forest (during which it snowed!) still awaited me. I’d recommend staying in the area if you’ve got more time, but I really enjoyed arriving to Carlsbad Caverns National Park the next morning just before opening, which allowed me to be the first person to enter that day. Combined with a New York City walking speed, this meant I had a good 15-20 minutes alone in the depths of the caverns before any other visitors caught up to interrupt the slow dripping sounds echoing within the cave system. Much of the system is inaccessible to visitors, and the open part unfortunately has ropes and clearly-marked walking paths, which take away from what otherwise might feel closer to nature. It’s still very much worth a visit, especially if you can get there before the crowds.

Stalagmites and stalactites at Carlsbad Caverns National Park

Driving north towards Santa Fe, I passed by Roswell, whose claim to fame is the “UFO” crash in 1947 (the UFO in question was actually a U.S. Air Force weather balloon), and which now houses a UFO museum and research center. As I approached Vaughn, the landscape became increasingly desolate, with an occasional shuttered gas station or motel that appeared to date back to the 1950s. It’s the kind of place where time has stopped, and most people simply pass through, but as I think back on my trip, those memories of the afternoon desert sun shining on a place fallen out of favour linger.

I reached Santa Fe in the early evening, checking in to the Drury Plaza Hotel, for which I’d found an amazing rate online. It was a bit too chilly to use the rooftop pool, but I happily settled by the roaring fireplace in the lounge with a complimentary gin & tonic and light bites from the hotel’s free daily happy hour. Afterwards, I strolled through town, stumbling upon some live music, and picking up snacks and wine at La Casa Sena wine shop. I also enjoyed sampling some of Gruet’s delicious sparkling wines at their Santa Fe tasting room, and for dessert, Kakawa Chocolate house is unbeatable. Their hot chocolate elixir is some of the best I’ve ever had, and it’s impossible to leave without sampling some of their handmade chocolates.

The following day, I set out early for the 2 hour drive to Taos for a day of skiing. The conditions at the mountain can be hit or miss depending on the snowfall, but the terrain is still exciting. After a few runs, I grew tired of the quaint, slow lift chairs that are in need of an upgrade - time truly does feel like it runs more slowly.

En route back to Santa Fe, I passed through a number of picturesque towns, including Arroyo Seco, which features a few small gift shops. Should you have more time, further west lies Carson National Forest, home to more stunning landscapes, including the area around Abiquiu, from where Georgia O’Keeffe drew inspiration. As mine was a shorter trip, I had to settle for checking out some of her art at the small but excellently curated Georgia O’Keeffe museum in downtown Santa Fe. The more I travel, the more I like to give myself a reason to go back to a place I really enjoyed to which I might not otherwise pay another visit. So, New Mexico, I’ll be back!

Where to eat & drink

Sugies Diner, Las Cruces

Gruet’s tasting room, Santa Fe

Kakawa Chocolate house, Santa Fe

La Casa Sena, Santa Fe

Where to stay

Drury Plaza Hotel, Santa Fe

Paintings at the Georgia O’Keeffe museum in Santa Fe

In Ian Fleming's footsteps

December 23, 2019

Perhaps best known as the creator of James Bond, Ian Fleming was an enigmatic character himself. Stationed on Jamaica during a stint in Britain’s naval intelligence service, Fleming fell in love with the island and vowed to return. He bought a plot of land on the island’s north coast, in the town of Oracabessa, where he built the villa that would be the birthplace of the fiction world’s most notorious spy. Today, the villa and a few dozen one-bedroom cottages form the Goldeneye resort (named after Fleming’s original mission).

We were greeted with a frozen rum & pineapple welcome drink at the resort’s bar, overlooking the rather wild and rocky coast. Our cottage was well-located between two of the resort’s beaches in the midst of tropical plants and singing birds, and there was a complimentary bottle of rum from Chris Blackwell, the current owner of Goldeneye and the founder of Island Records, which was instrumental in the commercial success of reggae music worldwide. On our first evening, the resort organised a happy hour with several complimentary rum-based cocktails that put everyone in the best of spirits.

Each morning, following 17F’s (Ian Fleming’s code name) favourite breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast accompanied by reggae music, we walked along the beach to the eponymous saltwater Goldeneye pool, open to the Caribbean splashing on the rocks and into the pool. Shaped as an eye, this quickly became my favourite spot, and I whiled away hours alternating between reading and gazing at the sea.

Kayaking and stand up paddleboarding are offered free of charge, and we took out a kayak to the nearby James Bond beach, where Dr. No with Sean Connery was filmed in 1962. The beach was full of locals barbecuing, teens posing for selfies, and children splashing in the shallows, and we felt right at home. We decided to forego the beach barbecue back at Goldeneye in favour of some local fare, so we drove into town. Chris’s in Oracabessa had just the ticket on the menu: fried chicken, which we enjoyed back on the beach while listening to the roar of the crashing waves.

Local posing for photos at James Bond beach

We also spent a couple of nights by the beach in Negril, in Jamaica’s western end, for comparison. The beach there is long, and unlike Jamaica’s north coast, there are no rocks or reefs as you enter the water, making for easy swimming well suited to families or young children. We picked up a Jamaican rum cake at the local supermarket and watched as the sun dipped into the water. Our best meal of the trip was to come later that evening at The Lodge restaurant at Tensing Pen, where we tried the Jamaican specialties of ackee (poisonous if not properly prepared!—quite the adventurous national dish) and jerk chicken, as well as crusted snapper. All were excellently prepared, but the snapper was the standout, gently cooked so that flakes peeled off as soon as it was touched.

Sunset, moon and planets from Rick’s Cafe, Negril

Another spot well worth a visit is Rick’s Cafe, further south along the coast. Go in the afternoon to test your appetite for risk at jumping points of different heights along the cliff, from which you plunge into the warm sea below. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to see resident ninja Spider, who regaled us with jumps from the highest platform that would not have been out of place at the Olympics. The place was packed on a late November afternoon, with a live band playing reggae classics and sungoers downing Rick’s punches as the sun went down. We stayed and danced until evening settled, and the cafe emptied out until the next day, when the same spectacle would repeat.

Unfortunately, many of Jamaica’s other natural wonders, such as YS Falls and Dunn’s Falls, are hidden behind $25 USD admission fees. That price begs a several hours-long commitment, so if you’re like me, and hoping to arrive early or late to avoid the crowds, you’re out of luck. Instead, en route back to Kingston to catch our flight, we stopped at the Strawberry Hill Resort to enjoy the spectacular views over a drink. The climate is notably cooler, and the rain-fed vegetation even more lush. Be warned that the road from Kingston is a narrow and curvy one (ignore Google Maps’ impassable recommended shortcut route and ensure you stay on the main road), made worse by the form of driving practiced in the country. It’s a free for all: cars drive at full speed in the middle of the road, and often it’s left up to you to get out of the way. At night, the majority of drivers leave their long beams on the entire time, blinding each other in a crazy game of chicken.

Perhaps, behind the wheel of James Bond’s Aston Martin DB5 from the film Goldeneye, I would not have minded in the least.

In search of rhythm in Cape Verde

October 30, 2019

“Where is Cape Verde?,” you might ask, and you would not be alone. Located a few hundred miles off the coast of Senegal, this set of volcanically formed islands is on few travellers’ radars. The country is also relatively hard to reach - direct flights run from either Lisbon or Ponta Delgada in the Azores, though fares are typically priced very reasonably. Geologically similar to the Azores, Cape Verde also has a Portuguese colonial history, achieving independence in 1975. Portuguese is spoken, as is Creole, with occasional English.

But this is a very different place than the Azores. You are no longer in Europe, but in Africa. Upon landing at Praia, I encountered a set of taxis waiting in front of the airport, charging a hefty 1,000 escudos ($10) for the 5-7 minute drive into the city. I declined, as I would have a night in Praia at the end of my trip, and opted to wait the four hours before my next internal flight at the airport cafe.

I was headed to São Vicente, the home of famed singer Cesária Évora, and the musical and cultural capital of the islands. Binter CV Airlines makes the trip, and on approach to São Vicente, a small church dramatically perched on rocky cliffs appears off the left side of the plane as you touch down 50 minutes later. I’d rented a car from Dyrk, and Emerson, the nephew of the owner, met me at the small airport. He was kind enough to stay with me as we sought to locate Georgette Guesthouse, on the fifth floor of a relatively modern apartment building overlooking the man-made but incredibly striking Laginha beach. The guesthouse’s stunning balcony, spacious rooms and hearty breakfast made it the perfect place to stay in Mindelo.

View of Laginha beach from Georgette’s guesthouse in Mindelo

After settling in, I went for a quick dip in the ocean, eyeing the island of Santo Antão in the distance, where I would head the following day. But first, food. I had a delicious octopus dish at Kalimba beach club, located directly on the beach, with incredibly friendly staff, followed by my first time trying percebes (goose neck barnacles, which are notoriously difficult and dangerous to gather) at Casa Cafe Mindelo. Percebes taste of the sea, with a texture similar to soft clams. Restaurants in Mindelo frequently feature live music from local bands and artists, and music videos of Cape Verdean artists looped for hours in the city’s cafes. The vibe is vibrant and energised in the most laid back way, so that time flows fluidly, and nothing is ever rushed. This is island life, after all.

The next morning, I took the ferry (along with my rental car) to Santo Antão, perhaps the most beautiful of the three islands I visited on this trip. The ferry arrives in Porto Novo, which is unremarkable except as a place to get supplies at a local mini-market, or for a fish dinner at the Italian-run Ristorante La Lampara. Take the interior road, a great source of pride for Cape Verdeans, which was hand-paved in granite stones several decades ago over the course of several years to reach Ponta do Sol at the other end. The vistas en route are simply otherworldly: fast-moving fog enveloping lush greenery, steep mountain passes, and locals going about their daily lives watching you as you drive by. I found myself gasping aloud in my car at the sheer beauty. There are also aluguers, or local collective minivans, that drive these routes, but I preferred to have my own car to maintain the freedom to stop when I wanted. As I encountered few other cars along the route, frequent stops for breathtaking views and photos were easy. On a couple occasions, locals approached me for a ride to the next village, and I happily obliged. Even as a solo female traveller, I never felt unsafe - ridesharing is simply a part of the culture, and it led to several interesting conversations and encounters. My Portuguese is basic, but I gave a ride to a papaya grower going to market who left me one as a gift, a schoolgirl who spoke fluent French and was curious about what I was doing in her country, and an elderly gentleman who was going to visit family in a neighbouring town. Yes, I did receive my fair share of stares most everywhere I went, but I ascribe that to the novelty of a solo female traveller in these parts.

View of Covo, the interior crater on Santo Antão

Once you reach Ponta do Sol, I highly recommend walking the road to Fontainhas (you reach it by heading left after the highest church in town; ask any of the locals), or driving if you’ve got a 4x4. The vistas are striking, and Fontainhas is something of its own world. I made the trek a couple of hours before sunset, and the colour palette was quite unlike anything I’d seen before. As with most places in Cape Verde, I encountered fewer than five other tourists en route.

I took the easier (and sometimes paved, thanks to a recent collaboration with an Italian construction company) coastal road to return to Porto Novo, spending the night en route at an Airbnb near Paul, in the village of Pombas. In the waning hours of the afternoon, I strolled by Senhor Ildo’s grog (a local sugarcane liquor) distillery to sample some of the local products and learn about how they are made. In the morning, a sausage and egg cachupa (the national dish, typically a slow-cooked stew of various meats and vegetables) took some time but was a tasty base for the day at Casa Maracuja.

A grog distillery near Paul, Santo Antão

Cachupa at Chez Loutcha, Mindelo, São Vicente

Upon my return to Sao Vicente, I decided to check out Salamansa, a small fishing village on the island’s north coast made famous by a Cesária Évora song by the same name. There’s a small creperie right on the beach, and you can hire kitesurfing equipment should you find yourself there in winter months with higher winds. Baia das Gatas was largely skippable, but driving further east, with dramatic views en route, you’ll reach the rockier stretches of Calhau, where the road ends. Further south lies the sprawling sandy expanse of São Pedro, perhaps the nicest beach on the island. Circle back to Mindelo for dinner at Chez Loutcha (be sure to try the cachupa and the canja de galinha, a hearty take on chicken soup) followed by a nightcap at the Clube Nautico.

The road between Salamansa and Calhau, São Vicente, Cape Verde

On my final day, after flying back to Praia, I chose to explore the capital on foot from my base at my Airbnb in Plateau. Plateau is pleasant enough, and you can walk through the local market as well as by the Presidential Palace. But I would not recommend walking on foot into the central part of town from here: this was the first and only time I felt unsafe in the country, as I encountered solo or pairs of males who made unpleasant comments as I passed, and the general state of affairs was very run-down. I made it on foot to the local monument to Pope John Paul II, who visited the country in 1990, and in whose honour there is both a cross and a statue that serves as something of a local gathering place for all. Although I am not personally religious, visiting this site was personally touching given the Pope was Polish, and I felt a common ground that unites people around the world, despite their many differences. Cape Verde is not an easy place to visit, but it is all the more rewarding for that very reason.

Packing list:

Hiking clothes & shoes
Rain jacket
Mosquito repellent
Bathing suit
Sunscreen

Where to stay:

Georgette Guesthouse, Mindelo, Sao Vicente

Paul Airbnb, Santo Antao

Praia Airbnb, Santiago

Where to eat and drink:

Kalimba beach club, Mindelo, Sao Vicente

Casa Cafe Mindelo, Mindelo, Sao Vicente

Chez Loutcha, Mindelo, Sao Vicente

Bar Creperie Chez Zoe, Salamansa, Sao Vicente

Ristorante La Lampara, Porto Novo, Santo Antao

Casa Maracuja, Paul, Santo Antao

Nice Kriola, Praia, Santiago

Haiti: escape into the past

September 12, 2019

I knew I would be met with more confused looks than usual when I told friends I was heading to Haiti, and I didn’t want my Mom to worry about the political situation, so I didn’t speak of the trip much at all until I was back. It was only four days, a quick getaway thanks to direct flights from NYC on Jetblue, and yet it felt like I’d been gone for well over a week. Haiti is so full of sensory experience that you feel overwhelmed until you’ve settled into the local rhythm.

Haiti’s mountainous interior further complicates driving in the country

Upon landing in Port-au-Prince, we headed to the rental car counter to pick up our car and meet our driver. I had a brief, in retrospect completely delusional, idea of driving in Haiti, but my research indicated this was a bad idea, and I’m glad reason prevailed. I’d driven in the Dominican Republic earlier this year, and that was a walk in the park compared to the roads in Haiti. The traffic jams in Port-au-Prince are some of the worst I’ve ever seen anywhere in the world, with complete chaos reigning as hundreds of cars attempted to go in multiple different directions. Tall piles of trash littered the streets, locals weaved between the cars selling snacks and drinks, and if not for the lack of animals wandering the streets, I might have thought I was in India.

But if travel to Haiti is considered more difficult relative to other countries, the reward is all the more compelling: we encountered nearly empty white sand beaches, spectacular if humid hiking, and friendly locals whose pace of life reminded us to slow down and appreciate each moment. There is also a small expat population, largely consisting of aid workers and artists, and these were pretty much the only other foreigners we encountered.

Once we left the traffic of Port-au-Prince, the main (and only) road south took us through numerous villages and small towns vibrant with life. After a total of seven hours, we reached Les Cayes, where a small boat awaited us for the crossing to our first destination, Île-à-Vache. Our small wooden hull was no match for the large waves that battered us from the south, and after an hour we reached the island completely soaked to the bone, laughing at the situation. We were met by three of the employees of Suites la Colline, who took us up the hill to the cool respite of the hotel. Run by a French Canadian, Lambert Farand, Suites la Colline incorporates local art with a modern, tiered construction that gives the feeling of a true escape. A short hike up from the hotel provides spectacular views of the beach and Abaka Bay resort below (where mounted photos show a visit by former U.S. president Bill Clinton), while a short hike down leads to the village of Cacor, where we spent an evening listening to locals playing voodoo music while dancing and drinking the local rum, pulling in passing villagers one by one until the party was 100 strong.

The view from just above Suites la Colline, Île-à-Vache, Haiti

Over drinks on the hotel terrace, Lambert told us that we were one of only three visits he has had from actual tourists in the ten years he has been running the hotel. The remainder have been from aid workers or Haitians living abroad returning on vacation. So if you’re looking for under the radar, and have a sense of adventure when inevitably things don’t go as planned (it took us 3 tries to find an ATM that was in working order, and time in general runs fluidly), Haiti is it.

From Suites la Colline, you can hike to completely deserted beaches, untouched by humans, and have the place all to yourself. One afternoon at Île-à-Vache we asked locals to take us on a boat ride around the island, and we stopped off at a stunning islet of sand, known as Île des Amoureux, where we swam while our boat driver went to purchase a lunch of freshly grilled fish, conch (“lambi”) and local beers. Our enjoyment turned to concern when our boat did not return after one hour, then two hours...until we finally saw it appear on the horizon. It’s generally advisable not to assume anything in Haiti, and to set clear expectations. Lambert recounted a multitude of stories about the construction of Suites la Colline and the importance of hiring strong local overseers and being fully present to have any hope of completing the project.

After returning to Les Cayes from Île-à-Vache, we continued on to Jacmel, known as Haiti’s cultural hub. We walked the colonial streets and met a couple of local artists before heading to our Airbnb about 30 minutes east of the city by car. Run by Janet, a Canadian who spent her career in developing countries in Africa before making her way to Haiti to serve as the country’s director of Save the Children, the standalone apartments are a short walk from an amazing outdoor shower and the main residence, an open air construction stylishly decorated with acquisitions from Janet’s travels. There are swinging beds and spots for relaxation galore, as well as a small plunge pool surrounded by tropical greenery. It’s a truly peaceful place, the kind of haven to which one might imagine retreating to work on a novel or other creative endeavour. Needless to say, we did not want to leave.

Packing list

Sun protection and hat (it gets quite hot, and the sun is very strong)
Bathing suit
Hiking shoes
Mosquito repellent

Where to stay

Suites la Colline

Janet’s Chic Chateau Airbnb near Jacmel (room 1, room 2)

Road trip: sands, stalagmites and snow in New Mexico

In Ian Fleming's footsteps

In search of rhythm in Cape Verde

Haiti: escape into the past

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