Greece Week with Heritage Tours: A Stop in Spetses
The ferry ride from Piraeus to Spetses island is a little under 3 hours or you can take the long drive we did through the Peloponnese peninsula to reach the town of Kosta, then take a 10-minute boat ride over to the island. Either way, it’s worth your effort. On Spetses, time stands still, especially when we ran into a large group of bikers circling the island in Victorian garb for the annual Tweed Day celebration. A 26-kilometer loop circles the island past beaches and the rugged shoreline, ideal for bikers since Spetses is a car-free island. Soon we were back at the main square in town, dominated by the classic façade of the Poseidonion Grand Hotel. Kids were running while parents were buying fresh baked bread for a picnic. We dined on Greek salad, octopus, fish, and lamb, as the owner of the hotel explained why this low-key island is a favorite for folks looking for an authentic Greek experience that cherishes community and family. I would have happily spent the next 3 days here, but we were on a day tour of the Peloponnese and were off to the charming town of Nafplion next.
What a difference a year makes. Last winter I was driving around the entirety of New England researching a story on the best winter towns in the region for Yankee Magazine. The deluge of snow created a winter wonderland where I could truly appreciate everything New England has to offer during the cold weather months. This winter, I shoveled twice, saw very little snow, and it’s already March. I was fortunate to be writing about New England’s finest winter towns while they wearing a shiny white dress. That cover story for the Jan/Feb issue of Yankee Magazine is finally out on the web. 
Everyone seems to go to Africa on safari. And yes, after spending the past week finding lions poking their manes out of the bush, watching a leopard gnawing on a goat high up a tree, and seeing family after family of giraffes, elephants, and warthogs, I can attest to that exhilarating feeling of wild abandonment. But as cute as those animals are, you have very little connection. It’s the people who make Africa a special place, especially in Kenya. From the high-end safari owner who feels it’s her civic duty to provide a water well, schooling, library, and HIV prevention education to a large slum in Nairobi even though she already employs many Kenyans on her payroll. Or the Maasai villager on the Tanzanian border, who after performing a tribal dance in headgear and dress, asks me if I’m on Facebook. He’ll happily send me pictures of the lions, he notes. Or the insightful safari guide, who received his college education in the States after a California professor visited Kenya and was quickly enamored with his brilliance. I turned him on to the African dance tunes of Deep Forest. Or the General Manager of a resort in the shadows of Mount Kenya, who being from India, taught me a secret of dealing with travel dysentery. Always eat yoghurt the first day of visiting a country, especially in places like India or Mexico, known for their laundry list of stomach ailments. Most of all, there are those smiling faces of young children in Nairobi schools and the Maasai villages. The ones I love to pass out “heart” stickers to. These people are the reason I return to Africa. Sure, I love Simba and Pumba like the rest of us, but it’s to the Kenyan people that I say asante sana for a wonderful trip. Hope to see you again soon!
Paris’ art scene will get a breath of fresh air when 
All it takes is one ride along the Adriatic Sea to appreciate the splendor of Puglia, the region of southern Italy close to the heel of the boot. Last October, we biked up and down sweeping hills with the blue expanse of water always by our side. The sweet smell of honeysuckle the best form of aromatherapy as we cruised past seaside villages, peering down in awe at the greenish/blue waters hundreds of feet below. We stopped in Santa Maria di Leuca to gaze at the lighthouse, church, and large plaza before making our way back to the port of Tricase where a fresh seafood feast was waiting for us. According to my trusty Strava app, we had biked 43 miles with an elevation gain of over 3,000 feet, so I was definitely ready for a break and the chance to dig into fresh calamari, mussels, grilled aubergines, tomatoes, and the creamy burrata cheese the region is known for. We were on Day Two of a