Al Ain, located 160 kilometers east of Abu Dhabi on the Omani border, is known as the Garden City of the United Arab Emirates. Known for its low humidity and scenic surroundings, it is a popular destination for Emiratis and tourists alike. It is home to several luxury oasis hotels and Jebel Hafeet Mountain, a popular sunset viewpoint.

One of Al Ain’s more popular tourist experiences is the Al Ain Camel Market. Situated behind the Bawadi Mall on Mezyad Road, the Al Ain Camel Market is open daily during daylight hours and is a traditional livestock market in the Bedouin style. In addition to camels, there are goats, sheep and cattle offered for sale, as well as livestock and veterinary supplies. However, the camels are the main attraction, for buyers and tourists alike. Camels from as far away as Sudan and Pakistan are accompanied by their shepherds and offered for sale. Young camels, old camels, riding camels and meat camels are housed in pens while the sellers and buyers congregate outside.

Be prepared to be one of the only tourists at this market. Also be skeptical of shepherds escorting you into their camel pens to see the babies or sit on one of the adults. After the photos are taken, they will often demand payment. It is wise to agree on a price before entering the camel pens. In addition, this is first and foremost a livestock market, and while the camels and other animals appear to be treated well, it is not an animal park and there is obvious indication of that.

The camels and their handlers are a bit of Bedouin life in the heart of the fourth largest city in the United Arab Emirates. The animals are beautiful and the men charged with their care lend a very traditional feel to this market. An easy drive from both Dubai and Abu Dhabi, the Al Ain Camel Market is a great escape from the bustle of either city. Bring your cameras and sunscreen and enjoy this slice of traditional Arab life.

Machu Picchu conjures dreams. A lost Incan city nestled high in the Andes Mountains, it was virtually unknown outside of Peru until 1911, when American archaeologist and historian Hirum Bingham was taken there by local residents. Today, intrepid travelers by the hundreds of thousands make the journey to this Andean fortress each year.

Construction is believed to have begun around 1450 CE, at the height of the Inca Empire. It was abandoned 100 years later, during the time of the Spanish Conquest, however there is no record of the Spaniards ever having reached the site, almost 8000 feet above sea level. This fact alone renders Machu Picchu a very important and intact cultural site. Machu Picchu was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983 and was voted one of the New Seven Wonders of the World in 2007 via worldwide Internet poll.

My visit to Machu Picchu in November 2011 was the culmination of five months spent exploring Peru’s many other treasures. I had been amazed by the ancient ruins of the Moche people in the north of Peru, the headwaters of the Amazon river near Iquitos, and the vibrant city of Lima. I was unprepared for the magnitude of this Andean citadel.

We arrived shortly after sunrise, and the peaks were obscured by clouds, which is common. What is uncommon is that the clouds parted and burned off within an hour, displaying the ruins in unparalleled splendor. The verdant green of the terraces combined with the blue of the clear sky present a view that I feel to be unmatched in the world. Despite the thousands of people that poured onto the mountain, I was utterly and completely and joyously alone.

Machu Picchu can be accessed by the average traveler quite easily. Typically one travels by train from the city of Cusco to Aguas Calientes, and then by bus to the entrance of the site. Tickets cannot be purchased at the entrance, so it is mandatory that you purchase one in Aguas Calientes before boarding the bus, or in Cusco. Additionally, only 2,500 visitors are allowed to enter per day, so tickets may need to be purchased well in advance. Climbing Huayna Picchu, the iconic peak located within Machu Picchu itself, requires an additional purchase of a timed ticket, and only 400 of these are sold per day. Despite the seemingly strict rules regarding ticket purchases, I was able to purchase my ticket in Aguas Calientes the day before with no issue.

For the more adventurous traveler, a journey along the famed Inca Trail is an option. Only 500 people per day are admitted onto the trail, with over half of this number being guides and support staff. Advance booking is a must, and in some cases, such as the May to October peak season, a 12 month advance purchase may be necessary. Information regarding travel to Machu Picchu via the Inca Trail and regarding entrance ticket purchases can be found at the official Peru travel website, www.peru.travel

Traveling is an intensely personal experience, with destination selection reflecting the choices of the individual. That being said, Machu Picchu may not be on every traveler’s list. However, the relative ease with which one can journey to this iconic place and the reward for having done so is monumental.

When I learned that I was going to spend the next two years in the Middle East, I had visions of camels in the streets, sunsets over the dunes, and markets. Markets filled with the vibrant colors of spices in barrels, stacks of pashminas in rainbow hues, and piles of glinting gold and silver jewelry. Abu Dhabi is not like the Middle East of my vision in that regard. The traditional souk has largely been replaced by the shopping mall and spices are sold at the grocery in the neat little bottles imported from the United States. That’s not to say that souks don’t exist, but one does have to search a bit harder to find them.

My friend told me about a more traditional souk located in Sharjah, east of Dubai and about two hours from Abu Dhabi. We made a plan for a weekday road trip and drove over to the Sharjah Central Market, or The Blue Souk, as the locals call it, due to the hundreds of thousands of blue tiles that cover the building. The Blue Souk is open Saturday through Thursday from 10am onward, with a brief closure during the mid afternoon rest time. Also bear in mind that Sharjah is the most conservative of the emirates, and modest dress is a must here.

The main floors of the two buildings had me a bit disappointed at first glance. It seemed like all the other air-conditioned souk-malls that I had seen previously. The shops consisted mainly of traditional Arab clothing makers, jewelry shops selling very expensive gold items, and shops offering Western clothing, shoes and accessories. However, all one needs to do is head to the second floor where the aisles narrow dramatically, and the shopkeepers lurk by the doorways to hawk their wares. Here you will find carpets from Iran, lamps and glassware from Turkey, Bedouin jewelry, Indian pashminas, antiques and enough other items from around the region to satisfy any shopping addiction.

Of course, bargaining is the rule here and, while time consuming, it really is an experience to delight in. The main rule of thumb is to accept the tea, coffee or sweets you are offered, smile, and get down to business. After you select the items you are interested in, the proprietor will name a price, either verbally or via calculator. If you feel that the language barrier is indeed a barrier, then feel free to use the calculator to counter-offer. In either case, offer half of the asking price and negotiate from there. It always helps to have an idea of the price before you begin shopping, but I found the shopkeepers to be very willing to accept a very fair final price.

Ideally you should plan to spend at least a few hours here. It is incredibly easy to get lost in the piles of jewelry, the artifacts and the rolled carpets stacked to the ceilings. The shops specializing in the lamps from Turkey definitely require extra time, if only for the photography opportunities. There are several options for food and snacks located on the main floor and prayer rooms are located throughout the souk.

The Blue Souk certainly warrants a visit if you find yourself in Sharjah. If you’d like to decorate your UAE home with Middle Eastern treasures or want to purchase souvenir and gift items for your friends and family, you will easily find those things here. Simply be prepared to bargain, and your shopping experience is bound to be a delightful one.

We as travelers thrive on inspiration. Inspiration leads us to the next destination and prompts us to extend a stay in a particularly special place. Inspiration takes us to the places we might never have visited and along routes we may never have considered. Inspiration can come like a thump to the head but, more often than not, it manifests as that sweet little voice inside that whispers, “Go. Just try it. You’ll love it, and if you don’t, there will always be more.”

My own personal inspiration is also multi-faceted. I look, I listen, I smell, I taste and I am inspired. I watch the films and read the books and I am inspired. I talk with people and read their personal accounts and I am inspired. However, I have one incredible and seemingly endless source of inspiration and motivation, and that is my mother.

My mother was my introduction to the art of travel. Before I was born, she left her home in 1960’s America to study Spanish in Mexico City. After she married my father and took on the traditional roles the 1970’s asked for, travel was still an integral part of her, and thus my, life. Our bookshelves overflowed with issues of National Geographic. Large, heavy bound atlases begged for rainy day pore-overs. The framed bullfight poster hung on the wall, its colors and typeface simple and exotic.

Later, as my brother and I grew older, my mother eased herself back into the waters of travel. She worked a second job to buy her first ticket to the UK when I was about 8 years old. I remember those two weeks being endless, but she returned with stories and photos and strange “head collars” for our horses.

My mother soon decided to make travel her career, and became a travel agent. This lead to trips across the United States and more trips across the oceans. But there were always the postcards, the T-shirts, the photos and one very memorable ship-to-shore phone call (sorry Mom!) that continued to stoke the growing desire that I had to see the world and learn how vital my own place could be in it.

My mother has walked on the Great Wall of China. She has gone for a swim with stingrays in the Caribbean. She has lain on a bench to better appreciate the view of the Sistine Chapel. She has seen the whales from the coast of Maui. She has seen Edinburgh Castle, the Alhambra, the Forbidden City and the Eiffel Tower. She has ridden a camel at the Pyramids of Giza. On her travel bucket list are a balloon ride over the Serengeti, which will take place this fall, and a trip on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, scheduled for next year. As well traveled as I think myself to be, I have done two of those things.

When I asked my mother to tell me a bit about her thoughts on travel, one of her responses was, “How could you not travel? There are places to go, things to see and people to meet.” I wholeheartedly agree with that. If you want to travel, you will, and the people, places, and things become a part of your identity and the identity that you share with those around you.

I have realized that my mother and I share a similar world view. I had to come about mine on my own, but her experiences shaped my choices, which resulted in my own experiences. Would I have chosen my winding path has she not chosen hers? I don’t know, but, frankly, it doesn’t matter. I am grateful beyond description for the inspiration.

Last year, I had the opportunity to spend a very critical and important time with my mother. It was the time when I needed to say all the things I could, and I think I did, the most important being how thankful I am, and that I am doing all of this for the two of us. Just as, in some way, she has been doing the same for me all along.

As you may know from my previous posts or your own knowledge of Peruvian history, northern Peru is home to some of the finest and significant archaeological sites in the world. Recently we traveled north from Huanchaco to the city of Lambayeque, home to the ruins known as Sipán, another part of the ancient Moche culture.

In 1987, word began to spread among the locals of Northern Peru that treasure had been found. When archaeologists arrived several months later to investigate, what they found sent shockwaves through the archaeology community around the world. Several tombs had been unearthed, and resting in these tombs were the two Lords of Sipán, who had ruled within approximately 300 years of each other. While this alone is a major find, what these dead rulers had taken with them to the afterworld was even more incredible. Gold… lots and lots of gold.

These Lords of Sipán were buried in their finest gold headpieces, gold and turquoise earrings and nose rings, gold breastplates and cod pieces, and even gold sandals. They wore elaborate necklaces made of intricate shell beads and clothing of delicate, finely woven fabric. They also took to their graves an entourage consisting of guards, flag bearers, wives, children, concubines, dogs and llamas.

One of the more interesting aspects of this find is that the two Lords were buried in the same tomb, the elder beneath the younger. DNA testing was done on the bones to prove that they were indeed related, solidifying the idea that leadership was inherited. Also interesting was the fact that bone density testing performed on the younger Lord of Sipán indicated that he had advanced osteoporosis in his late thirties, most likely due to the fact the he was carried everywhere he went.

While the tombs themselves are fascinating, the crowning jewel of this experience was the Royal Tombs Museum of Sipán. This place is virtual fortress as it houses all of the gold, jewels and artifacts that were taken from the tombs and security is very tight. The design of the building and the layout and lighting of the artifacts is simply spectacular. As you wind your way from the top of the four floors to bottom, much as the layers in the actual tomb were constructed, the magnitude of the treasure becomes more and more incredible. This museum is truly one of the finest I have ever seen.

One of the more interesting facts about the discovery and recovery of these artifacts, aside from the fact that the Spanish never found it, is that the sites were looted. When archaeologists and the Peruvian government became aware of this, they persuaded the Lambayeque locals to return what they had taken, then employed them as guards, excavators and research assistants, thus providing employment for hundreds of people. Also, since 1988, many pieces have been recovered from the black market, seized at the Lima and Miami airports, found at auction at Sotheby’s, and were even part of an FBI sting operation in Philadelphia. Today, no foreigners are allowed to work in the tombs, however some pieces may be sent out of the country for restoration.

Visiting this wonderful place has been the highlight of my journey in Peru, even more so because it is not well known . As I become more and more aware of the history and culture of this amazing country, I am thrilled to be here, to see this, to marvel at the magnitude of the Moche culture and the impact it had on all of South America.

NOTE: The photos of the artifacts were taken at the Museo de Sito Sipán, which houses reproductions and lesser quality artifacts, and thus allows photography.

I realize that culture is objective, and I am not at liberty to judge a culture that is not my own. However, when I perceive animal abuse, I am quick to feel ill initially, and quick to judge after the fact.

Case in point… about a month ago, while we were walking down the street in Trujillo (going to but bullfight tickets, but that’s another story) a man passed us with a bag. A wailing bag. With a tail sticking out of it. He proceeded to whack the bag which elicited wails that could have been cat or monkey, but were nonetheless heart wrenching. I froze… at once prepared to accost the man and wrestle the bag and the animal away from him, and also because he was Peruvian, and who am I to judge what may be something cultural. And our bus was arriving.

That moment of that day has stuck with me ever since. Was it a cat? Was it a monkey? And why oh why would someone carry an animal around to just beat it with a stick? Well, the answer came to me today.

Today, I happened to mention to our Peruvian friend Choco what we had seen on that day a month ago. He burst into laughter. Apparently, that man with an animal in a bag is a whistle salesman. He carries a small pillow in a bag, with a fake tail, and keeps a whistle in his mouth that sounds like a cat in distress. When he encounters foreigners, he employs the beating of the bag and cat wail whistle, hence eliciting attention and sympathy from tourists.

So now, knowing that it’s all a ruse, I am so ready to meet this man and video the reaction that he gets from tourists. If my reaction is any indication, this should prove to be epic.

I am not here to condone or to condemn. I was simply witness, of my own accord, to the bullfights in Trujillo, Peru during Peru’s National Day on July 28. I can’t say that I enjoyed it, but I am very glad that I went. It’s a dying cultural spectacle and I think that in a few years people will be hard-pressed to find bullfights so accessible within a culture’s celebrations. They will most likely go underground, as have dog and cock fights.

I know that opinions run rampant on this subject so feel free to leave yours in the comments. I look forward to reading them.

Ahhhh, food, glorious food. There’s love, there’s hate, there’s desire bordering on the sexual, just for food. But how well do you know your food? Where does it come from? Whose hands have touched it? Or, for that matter, have hands touched it at all? Perhaps it’s only been machines and chemicals that have provided that package of food you take from the supermarket.

I have been very happy to see that farmers’ markets are flourishing across the US, and people are taking a more active interest in the quality, safety and growing methods associated with the food they choose. However, outside the US, farmers’ markets have been the primary source of food for many, many years.

Here in Huanchaco, El Mercado is a daily event. The building opens at 7am, with most of the vendors set up and ready an hour later. You can truly purchase almost anything there. Meat, fish, eggs, milk, cheese, bread, honey, homemade sauces and more types of vegetables and fruits than I can name or even recognize. Brooms, dog food, hula hoops, a cup of coffee, fresh juice, trash bags and toys.

It’s a warren of rows and stalls, crowded with adults, children, dogs and flies. The vendors arrange their vegetable wares in attractive rows, bunches, and bundles and the colors are exquisite. The meat hangs on hooks, some easily identifiable, like chicken, but other cuts are a mystery. Beef, pork, goat? All that really matters is that the animal was alive earlier this morning, having lived its life in a field, eating a natural diet, and slaughtered, most likely, by hand.

Markets like this exist around the world. It’s the place people go to earn money, spend money, socialize, and nourish themselves, their families, and their communities. I feel so lucky to have El Mercado right down the street.

I wrote this poem for a class a few years ago…. it ended up being a “down to the wire” kind of assignment, as I sat down to write the night before the assignment was due. It came to me in what I can only refer to as a miracle, as I don’t know that I’ve written anything as good since. I hope you like it.

Mae Hong Song Loop

Teak forests rarely offer directions.
Neither do terraced rice paddies
Gleaming an impossibly brilliant green,
And roadside Buddha shrines are often silent.
Children appear from nowhere, everywhere.
We play basketball with them.
They mimic our curses at missed shots
Relishing the American-ness of our words.
The old men don’t speak,
Pacing broken roads that lead to Burma
And caves inhabited by holy carp.
Opium pipes and Bic lighters,
Cradled in weathered palms.
The poppies thrive beneath tarps
On hillsides and in yards.
Kilometers, liters and a pieced together motorcycle
Take us through the Golden Triangle.
Where tiny towns beckon with glass bottles of Coke
And forbidden jungle curry
Served by breathtakingly lovely young girls.
Embarrassed by me or for me I can’t tell.
I speak no Thai.

Everything comes with a price, does it not? Here I am, living what is certainly an enviable life, on the beach in Huanchaco, Peru and I am homesick. The problem with this problem is where am I homesick for? Where my friends are… all over the world. Where my family is…. the United States. Where my things are… Hawaii.

I woke up this morning lonely. I’ve been in Peru nearly a month and have met some wonderful people, but I miss my friends. My Hawaii friends, my Taiwan friends, my Utah friends, my Oklahoma friends. Despite what might seem a glamorous life of travel and adventure, there are definite and very strong moments of longing and loneliness. I try to see myself as adaptable and capable, and I am to a certain extent, but when that need, that compulsion, for someone or something familiar hits the front of your brain, there’s not a lot you can do about it. It’s there… needling and poking and in my case, making me cry.

Don’t get me wrong. I have chosen this life and I love it. I revel in it every day and never for an instant regret my decisions. But I miss my mom, I miss my Hannah, I miss my Lana, I miss my Sandi and I miss so much  more  that would take pages to list.

But I also know that, when I leave Peru, I will cry about that as well.