10 Lively Things to Do in Livingstone, Zambia

August 29, 2021February 16, 2017 by Allison Green

Let’s take a break from our regularly scheduled program to hear from a travel blogger friend of mine in my new guest post series, “Offbeat Travel” – highlighting lesser known destinations that I’ve yet to visit. Here’s Nicole of Travelgal Nicole, a whirlwind of a world traveler who has visited over 90 countries to date, including some of the least visited – or even heard of – countries like Micronesia. Yes, that’s actually a country, and not just a joke from Zoolander! She’s even been to Nauru, which sees only 200 visitors per year! So, without further ado, here’s Nicole telling you all about Livingstone, Zambia – things to do, what to see, and more!

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Livingstone is located in the southwestern part of Zambia and is the tourist capital of Victoria Falls. Livingstone is a historic British colonial city and is named after David Livingstone, who first explored the area. It’s a great place to base yourself while taking day trips to do other things from there. Here are some of the best things to do in Livingstone, Zambia and the surrounding areas:

1. Visit the Victoria Falls, or Mosi oa Tunya (“The Smoke that Thunders”)

Victoria Falls is a UNESCO World Heritage site in Zambia. While it is not the tallest waterfall at 108 meters or the widest at 1708 meters, it is classified as the largest waterfall in the world for the combination of both. You can actually hear the waterfall in the surrounding area, which is why the locals have named it Mosi oa Tunya, “the smoke that thunders.” At times there is so much spray from the waterfall that you can’t actually see the water itself, but only the “smoke” surrounding it. The “smoke” from the waterfall can be seen up to 30 miles away! This is definitely number one of all the things to do in Livingstone.

2. Visit Victoria Falls from Zimbabwe (90% of the falls are on the Zimbabwean side)

Which side to see the falls from? I say both! We walked about half an hour from the Zambia side to the Zimbabwe side of the falls (you can also take a bike ride tour). 90% of Victoria Falls is located on the Zimbabwean side. They have turned the area into a park with walkways and cafes. We started at the beginning of the trail, where we saw a rainbow over the falls. As I was there in the dry season, the Zimbabwean side was much more impressive.

3. Take a helicopter ride over the falls

I took a 30-minute flight over the falls in a helicopter. This was my first time in a helicopter, and I was sitting shotgun with the pilot. It’s a totally different experience being in a helicopter! In a plane, you move side to side, whereas in a helicopter, you move nose to tail. It gets a bit windy up there. The flight itself is stunning: we flew over the falls and through the “smoke.” The visibility was really good on the day we went and we were able to see elephants and giraffes from the helicopter as well. You can also go on a micro flight over the falls – another one of the great things to do in Livingstone, Zambia!

4. Have High Tea at the Royal Livingstone Victoria Falls Hotel

Sometimes you just need to treat yourself. I think high tea at a five-star resort is up there with treating yourself to a little bit of luxury! This hotel has everything you need after an adventurous day out enjoying all the things to do in Livingstone. We chilled on the deck overlooking the Zambezi, having a glass of wine and watching the hippos. Then we had some visitors to the gardens – zebras! I wasn’t expecting them to show up as guests to our lunch date, but we were cool with that. Between the wildlife, the views, the cakes and teas, this hotel is definitely worth checking out. We even saw giraffes on the way in.

5. Go swimming in the Devil’s Pool

Yes, you really can go into the waterfalls! In the dry season, the Zambezi River level drops quite a lot, and it is possible to walk in the river to the Devil’s Pool where you can look over the side and swim in the pool — with a guide of course. It is only available from the Zambian side. There is nothing quite like looking over the falls to an almost 1 kilometer drop below as the water is rolling over the side! The Devil’s Pool is a real adrenaline rush for anyone who has done it, and probably the scariest of all things to do in Zambia.

6. Take a Sunset Cruise down the Zambezi River

When it comes to exploring the river, a Zambezi sunset cruise is a must. Most of these turn into a bit of a booze cruise, but we had a really cool group of volunteers on our cruise and we ended up talking travel the entire time. We spent about two hours on the river meandering through the islands and enjoying the abundant wildlife along the banks of the Zambezi River. It was great to experience the serenity of the river while spotting elephants along the banks and more hippos and crocodiles than you can imagine.

7. Visit the Big Cat Rehab Center

One of the highlights of my time in Livingstone was spending the day at a Big Cat Center where they take in orphaned lions and cheetahs. This is a volunteer facility that is working with the community to increase the numbers of big cats in Zambia. My experience with the cheetahs will always be one of my top wildlife experiences. My cheetah’s name was Susan, and even though she was the fastest runner of the group, she was the slowest walker. That was okay because we really just ended up hanging out under the shade of a tree for most of our time together. I spent an hour petting her and listening to her purr. You can also interact with the lions here and go for a walk through the bush.

8. Eat like a local at the Café Zambezi

I heard about this place from some of the locals. It’s a nice, clean café with huge portions and good service. Café Zambezi is on the main strip in Livingstone and serves some local delicacies such as crocodile ribs, mshina (local maize dish), kudu stew, impala stew – it’s good food with an African vibe. It’s a bit touristy but worth the hype to try dishes from this area.

9. Visit a local village nearby

I visited the Mukuni village just outside Livingstone. This was the first settlement Livingstone found when he stood at Victoria Falls and was looking for people around the falls. We spent three hours in the village learning about the culture and origins of this Zambian village. The village has over 5,000 people who live there, and they have been living there for generations. We toured their homes and saw how they lived and also checked out their arts and crafts for sale.

10. Visit Chobe National Park in nearby Botswana

Chobe National Park is located in the northern part of Botswana, along the border of Zambia and Namibia, and is another one of the more popular things to do in Livingston, Zambia. We drove from Livingstone to the ferry (approximately one hour) and took a 15-minute ferry ride across to Botswana – but guided tours are also available for those without cars.
Our safari guides picked us up at the ferry and we had a quick 10-minute drive to the park. The day safari that I booked was a morning boat ride through the park, then lunch, and then back out again for an afternoon safari in an open top safari truck. The highlight of the trip for me was the morning boat ride. Chobe has approximately 120,000 elephants in the park and in the morning all the animals come to the river to bathe. This was the first time I had seen elephants swimming and playing in the water. I also saw a baby elephant that was only two weeks old. So cute!

Where to Stay in Livingstone, Zambia

Budget: There aren’t that many hostels in Livingstone, but of the ones there are, two are widely considered to be the best — Jollyboys and Fawlty Towers, both of which have dorms with air conditioned rooms and pools.

Midrange: There are lots of mid-range options between about $40-80 per night which offer no-frills private rooms. Tabonina Guesthouse is a well-rated favorite with breakfast included and simple private rooms. ZigZag Town Lodge is a bit more pricy but has more modern design and a pool.

Luxury: There’s no shortage of luxury digs in Livingstone. The River Club is the nicest hotel in town, with riverside rooms that overlook the Zambezi below where pods of hippos roam free, fine dining, and stunning decor — at a price. The Royal Livingstone Hotel by Anantara is another great luxury option, with free roaming zebras on the grounds. If you want luxury on a budget, AVANI will give you the best bang for your buck — plus they also have a live-in zebra and giraffe on property!!

About Travelgal Nicole

Nicole LaBarge got her first taste for travel when she was 16 years old. Ever since then, she has been hooked and calls herself a travel-holic. She believes you can travel and have a career and she is halfway to her goal of visiting every country in the world. She is a serial expat who has lived in five different countries to date and is currently based in Wellington, New Zealand. She loves traveling and is currently planning a trip to visit all 12 countries in South America. You can follow her adventures on Instagram.

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Allison Green

Allison Green is a former teacher who has been travel blogging since 2016. She has a Masters in Teaching and a B.A. in English and Creative Writing. Her blog posts merge her background as an educator with her experience traveling to 70+ countries to encourage ethical, meaningful travel. She has been a speaker at the World Travel Writers Conference and her writing, photography, and podcasting work has appeared in National Geographic, CNN Arabic, CBC Canada, and Forbes, amongst others. Now a full-time traveler, she has lived in Prague, Sofia, New York City, and the San Francisco Bay Area.

eternalarrival.com

Paradise in Little Corn: Yemaya Island Hideaway Review

September 12, 2023February 15, 2017 by Allison Green

Allison Green lounging in a cabana in little corn island

Little Corn Island is a special place, unlike any other place I’ve been to before.

On a tiny island of fewer than 2,000 people, it doesn’t take long to start feeling at home. Nearly 50 miles from the Nicaraguan mainland, without a single car, you’ll breathe air so fresh and see water so blue the world feels like a dream you’re lucky to have.

And that dream gets taken up a notch at the most luxurious lodging on Little Corn – Yemaya Island Hideaway.

Rooms

My cabana at Yemaya was spacious and airy, with a gorgeous seafront view. The decor was peaceful yet understated – with that sea view, there’s no need for flashiness!

Each cabana has a terrace with amazing views of the blue, blue sea. I couldn’t help but spend hours relaxing there and reading eBooks each day. Any guide to the Corn Islands will mention this famous strip of beach — it’s the place to be during the day on Little Corn.

As someone who tries to travel more sustainably, I really appreciated the steps Yemaya is making to reducing waste. Hotels are often big offenders when it comes to single-use plastic waste — but not Yemaya.

Rather than offering plastic water bottles, they had reusable glass bottles of ice cold filtered water available in the mini-fridge. There were no plastic bottles for the complimentary toiletries, either – they came in refillable ceramic containers.

And we need to talk about this bathroom! The shower had the perfect water pressure and actually having reliable hot water again was a revelation. Maybe those sound like they should be a given at such a nice hotel, but after weeks of cold trickles masquerading as showers, I was in absolute heaven. The plants and the skylight streaming in natural light were lovely touches as well.

Check prices, availability, and room details here.

Grounds

Yemaya has an on-site spa offering a variety of facials, massages, and other treatments. I didn’t partake, but I’m sure it’d be a heavenly experience if your budget affords it. I did, however, take full advantage of their jungle yoga studio!

They have mats, blankets, blocks, and other yoga accessories available for free use. You can also request classes taught by certified yoga teachers if you’d rather practice with an instructor’s guidance.

The restaurant is open for breakfast and dinner, and the beach bar is available for lunch. The breakfasts I ate at Yemaya were some of the best I’ve had in Nicaragua, and reasonably priced at about $8-10. They offer a much better value than the dinner, which was delicious but on the expensive side, with limited options.

The beach bar, on the other hand… now I could (and did) eat those lobster tacos every day!

Activities

Yemaya offers complimentary stand-up paddleboard rental and kayaks for rent from the beach bar, and snorkel gear is available to borrow from the reception. I tried to paddleboard for the first time, but the waves were a bit much that day so it ended up being more of a sit-down paddleboard than stand-up. Still quite fun, though!

The snorkeling, on the other hand, was much more successful. Just off the beach, there are some amazing coral reefs with colorful fish swimming everywhere!

If you’re looking for a more adventurous day out, Yemaya also offers snorkeling trips further out from the beach on their sailboat, deep sea fishing, and trips to the Pearl Keys. They can also arrange diving with one of the local dive shops.

Final Thoughts

What impressed me most of all about Yemaya was not just their beautiful grounds or the comfortable rooms, but the staff’s helpfulness and generosity.

When I spilled a drink on my laptop and it shut down completely, the staff brought me a container with what must have been ten pounds of rice to save it (and save it they did!). They also prepared me some ginger tea in advance of my boat trip back to Big Corn as I get seasick, which was a huge help.

Yemaya is definitely not a budget stay, but it offers excellent value to those who want a unique luxury experience.

In short, there’s really no place quite like Little Corn, and Yemaya’s beaches are the best on the island.

For those who’d like a taste of luxury but can’t afford the cost of renting a cabana, I highly recommend making a day trip to Yemaya and eating breakfast or lunch there to have a taste of their hospitality and their delicious food!

Click here to check out prices, availability, photos, and more details.

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Note: I was provided with two nights of accommodations at Yemaya Island Hideaway in order to review it. All opinions shared are honest and sincere.

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

13 Sustainable Travel Hacks For a Greener World

August 29, 2021February 10, 2017 by Allison Green

I know we all want to see the world – but in order for there to be a world to see, we have to keep thinking about our impact on the planet.

While there are some things we simply can’t avoid, like carbon emissions from air and bus travel (though you can buy carbon offsets), there are other sustainable travel choices we can make that dramatically reduce our impact on the globe.

Fly less

Yeah, I know that EasyJet or RyanAir flight is cheap, but for the love of God’s green (for so long) earth, don’t zigzag your way through Europe by plane.

Planes are great if you have a short amount of time and need to get from point A to point B. But once you’ve flown somewhere, try to rely on ground transport as much as possible.

Check out BlaBlaCar if in Western Europe, trains and buses in Eastern Europe, and buses and minibuses in Southeast Asia, Central and South America. You’ll be helping make sustainable travel a reality and you’ll also be seeing the world the way the locals do.

Travel slower

Beyond taking fewer fights, slow travel is sustainable travel. It will help save you a bundle and save the earth some massive carbon output.

You’ll also get the benefit of knowing a place more intimately beyond just the tourist hot spots.

Slow travel can mean just taking in fewer destinations, but it can also mean taking longer to travel between destinations, such as cycle touring — when the journey becomes part of the destination.

Take a SteriPen or filtered water bottle with you

This can save tons and tons of plastic from landfill. I was carrying a Steripen, which I loved, until I left it behind in a hostel… whoops. I’ll replace it when I get back to the U.S. For now, I buy a larger water bottle (about 1 liter) and refill it at various hostels or restaurants.

I replace it about once a week to prevent bacterial growth. It’s not perfect, but it wastes way less than buying brand new bottles for the 2 to 3 liters of water I drink daily. This is one of the easiest changes you can make to make sustainable travel happen on a daily basis.

However, you can also use a water bottle with a filter like GRAYL or Lifestraw, or something with UV light like the Steripen which filters undrinkable tap water.

Take shorter, cooler showers

I’ve always been a bit of a cold water shower wuss but here in Nicaragua hot water is pretty rare and reserved for the upper echelon of travelers, namely: not me.

Since I squeal like bacon in a frying pan when the water hits me, I take short, quick showers when I only have access to cold water, and I’ve taken that lesson with me to try to take shorter showers at home, too.

While I miss luxuriating in a warm shower, remember that about 90% of energy use in all water-based appliances like showers, dishwashers, and washing machines comes from heating the water. Plus you already know that saving water is dope!

Bring a small, packable tote bag or two

Keep one in each of the bags that you’re likely to use and use it whenever you’re at a grocery store or market. You may get a couple of weird looks as this isn’t exactly common worldwide yet, but it’s worth it.

Plastic grocery bags are some of the worst offenders when it comes to polluting our streets and oceans, and their impact on marine wildlife is horrible.

It’s really quite a simple sustainable travel alternative to bring a small reusable tote bag. They also make a great day bag when you want to carry around a little more stuff with you

Use your grocery bags for good

If you’ve forgotten your packable tote bag (it’s okay! It happens to me) or a stern Albanian cashier wouldn’t let you leave without a bag (it’s okay! It happens to me), you’ll end up with plastic grocery bags.

Don’t just throw them out, where they’ll likely blow into the wind and into an ocean. Use them to:

protect dirty shoes from the rest of your luggage
stash dirty clothes in until laundry day
keep in your bag and pick up some extra litter the next time you’re seeing somewhere you wish was a little more pristine, like a beach or a hike

Make the plunge (I promise this isn’t a gross pun — no wait it is) into a menstrual cup

I wouldn’t blame you if you stopped reading now…. but in case I haven’t lost you, let me rhapsodize about how amazing the menstrual cup is for female travelers.

You basically never have to worry about leaking. If you’re the lucky owner of a uterus, I’m sure you’ve felt that moment of panic at some point or another when you wonder if your tampon isn’t about to betray you and make you have a Carrie moment.

As an added bonus, it keeps tampons and pads out of landfill. The average woman uses almost 250 tampons per year – that’s a whole hell of a lot of landfill. The impact is worse if you consider the plastic applicators that popular brands like Tampax Pearl often use.

Pack with care

Don’t pack more than you need, as trust me, you’ll likely get frustrated and throw it out when trying to Tetris-cram your backpack the morning before a bus ride. Bring less than you think you’ll need.

If you really miss something, there’s a really good chance you’ll be able to find it somewhere out there in the world. Yay globalization?

Embrace toiletries with less packaging

One of my favorite toiletries brands is LUSH because of their commitment to reducing waste and swearing off testing on animals. Their solid shampoo is a great purchase as it’s completely plastic free!

Just buy one reusable metal tin and the shampoo bar of your choice (I’m obsessed with Seanik for my fine, limp hair). Their conditioner, moisturizer, soap, and body wash all also come in packaging-free options for the sustainable traveler.

There are several reasons to go for solid toiletries – reducing plastic use, freeing up room in your liquid allotment if traveling carry-on only, and also just reducing the chances of leaks and spills along the way.

Bring a foldable Tupperware

This is great at reducing food waste, whether you eat out at restaurants or prefer to cook in the hostel.

Many restaurants use non-eco-friendly means of packaging up leftover food, such as aluminum foil, Styrofoam, or plastic containers — none of which you’ll likely ever use again.

A foldable silicone Tupperware won’t take up much space when not in use, and it’s great for saving extra food.

Bring a sustainable travel cutlery set set

Skip the plastic forks and sporks and bring your own travel cutlery set with you. I got this tip from Legal Nomads‘ advice on how to eat street food more safely, but it also has the added benefit of reducing plastic waste.

Buy secondhand or higher quality firsthand clothing

Thrift stores aren’t always easy to find overseas, but when they are and you need to replenish your wardrobe, consider perusing these stores rather than buying cheap clothing.

Everything you buy from a cheap street vendor means they’ll order a replacement, increasing the demand for crappily made mass-produced clothing that’s often made by people living in horrific conditions.

If I buy something firsthand, I usually pay a little extra for something well-made that I think will last longer.

Buy fewer souvenirs

I truly believe photos are the best souvenirs of a trip. But if you absolutely must buy souvenirs or risk the eternal disappointment of your grandmother, try to find ones made of naturally renewable, local resources.

Local ceramics and jewelry are far better choices than Made in China products. Also consider buying edible souvenirs, like chocolates or coffee!

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

The Glutton’s Guide to the 9 Best Cuisines in the World

August 29, 2021January 23, 2017 by Allison Green

When my friend asked me “if you could only eat one cuisine for the rest of your life, what would it be?,” I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean to send me into an existential tailspin. Buuut she did, and this is my way of recovering. I give you the result of much late-night contemplation brought on by acute psychological trauma.

So, I present you the best cuisines in the world (according to me)

KOREAN

Truth: I spent my 27th birthday at an all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ in Oakland and I cried tears of joy (and smoke irritation). And while Korea is rightfully famous for its BBQ, I love it all.

From the haemul pajeon (seafood pancake) to the kimchi jjigae (kimchi stew with tofu and pork) to the endless variety of ban chan (sweet, spicy, and pickled side dishes), Korean food just may be my #1. But don’t make me commit to it unless you want to see me meltdown. If you like spicy food, Korean is a definite contender for one of the best cuisines in the world.

ETHIOPIAN

Two point for food I can eat with my hands. Ten points for being able to eat the plate. For the uninitiated, Ethiopian food is eaten with injera, a spongy fermented flatbread (I know I don’t make that sound good, but I swear it is!).

Various stews of the vegan and carnivorous varieties are ladled atop the injera, spices and flavors soaking into it. You eat using only your hands, picking up bites of the stews with bits of fresh injera on the side. Faves? Kitfo (spicy beef tartar), awaze tibs (lamb stew), doro wat (chicken and egg curry), and misr wat (spicy red lentil stew).

BURMESE

Four words: fermented tea leaf salad. Actually, five words: FERMENTED TEA LEAF SALAD NOW. I had no idea it was possible to be this in love with a salad, especially since I will unabashedly admit that french fries are my favorite food, but dang. The way I feel when I look at a tea leaf salad is pretty much the way moms look at their newborn babies, #allthefeels.

Burmese food doesn’t end at just salads (though it could and I’d be happy, and I’m not normally an eating-salad-while-laughing kind of girl, probably because I’m not a stock photography model). Their curries are also excellent, though they tend to be on the oily side, and Shan noodles are ridiculously amazing as well. Ah, to be back in Burma!

SICHUAN

Sichuan food is easily a contender for the top best cuisine in the world — but I’m obsessed with spicy food. A peppercorn that literally numbs your mouth so you can eat spicier food than you normally would? Yes, yes, yes. I take it back, French fries — la zi ji, aka Chongqing chicken is my favorite food on Earth. GAUNTLET THROWN.

Picking through an almost-literal minefield of chilis to excavate pepper-coated nuggets of deep-fried chickeny goodness? Let me stop before this gets sexual. Dan dan mien (spicy noodles topped with rice vinegar, peppercorns, and ground pork), mapo tofu (soft tofu with a spicy sauce and minced pork), hui guo rou (spicy smoky pork belly and leeks)…. okay, this definitely got sexual.

VIETNAMESE

I’ve considering writing down pho as my primary care doctor because I see it basically every time anything in my body goes wrong. But when I went to Vietnam in 2015, I learned that there was so much more to Vietnamese food than pho. Bun bo hue is pho’s bigger, more badass cousin. Like, if soup could ride a motorcycle while wearing Wayfarers, that’d basically be bun bo hue: spicy beef broth, brisket, pork, vermicelli, all the herbs, and (if you don’t look too white), a congealed blood cake.

I did a street food tour in Hanoi and it was the best $20 I’ve ever spent. Unfortunately, I stuffed my face too fast and had no premonitions of my future career as a travel blogger so I didn’t photograph any of it, but my buddy Janet took the same street food tour and was far more diligent! Oh man, do I love Vietnamese street snacks, like banh cuon (steamed rice paper filled with pork and mushrooms), banh xeo (a turmeric-colored rice crepe stuffed with bean sprouts and pork and served with all the herbs and a dipping sauce), cha gio (spring rolls)…. Vietnam, take me back!

JAPANESE

Yes, sushi is incredible, and in Japan you can have the most melt-in-your-mouth sushi cut to perfection for 100 yen apiece (86 cents). Sorry, I’ll wait until you get back from booking your ticket…… Ok, cool, welcome back. As ridiculously fresh and delicious as Japanese sushi is, there’s so much more to Japanese cuisine than just that. The Japanese take doing things to perfection so seriously that there’s actually a word for it, shokunin. We translate it to mean “master” or “artisan,” but in reality, it’s more complex:

The shokunin has a social obligation to work his/her best for the general welfare of the people. This obligation is both spiritual and material, in that no matter what it is, the shokunin’s responsibility is to fulfill the requirement.” -Tasio Odate

The foodie result of this is that even the simplest dishes, like zaru soba (cold soba noodles with a simple dashi broth) are revelatory. Other favorites include curry tonkatsu (fried pork cutlet with curry and rice), snack food in Osaka like okonomiyaki (cabbage and everything but the kitchen sink served in pancake form, then topped with enough condiments to embarrass even an American) and takoyaki (fried balls of octopus and batter topped with all the condiments and bonito flakes), shoyu ramen (you better recognize), and karaage (Japanese fried chicken).

THAI

Forget yellow chicken curry. I got no time for #basicbitchnonsense when it comes to Thai food. Let’s get down to the real deal, my two favorite kinds of Thai food, Northern and Isaan, both very different. Isaan Thai food may very well be the spiciest food on Earth. Som tam, a shredded green papaya salad, is so good and often so hot it makes even my tongue of steel weep.

Laab moo (spicy diced pork salad with tons of herbs) is equally unforgiving — I may or may not have been openly weeping at Somtum Der in NYC while still shoveling bites of it in my mouth — and equally delicious. Northern Thai is less spicy but no less flavorful. Khao soi (a Burmese-influenced curry soup with noodles, chicken, crunchy shallots, pickled mustard greens, and all the aromatics) and sai oua (lemongrass flavored pork sausages) are two loves. With such regional diversity, Thai food is certainly one of the world’s best cuisines!

SOUTH INDIAN

Image credit to Steve, WikiMedia Commons

Now, I’m not only saying South Indian because one of my most treasured and longest-lasting friendship hinges on it. I’m also absolutely obsessed with the cuisine, one of the world’s most delicious. Y’know how Catholics think that Jesus like, turned himself into a wafer cracker? Well, they were close: he’s actually a dosa.

A paper-thin, physics-defyingly large fermented rice crepe stuffed with masala-spiced potatoes or other goodies. South Indian food is almost exclusively vegetarian but you’ll never miss the meat with goodies like sambar (lentil stew used for dipping), idly (steamed savory rice cakes), vada (lentil fritters), uttapam (like a thicker dosa), and the ubiquitous coconut chutney.

MEXICAN

Image credit William Neuheisel, Wikimedia Commons.

I know after listing all these exotic, highly specific cuisines you may be thinking, really? The inspiration behind Chipotle, the fast food chain that seems to have the single-handed mission of spreading E. coli throughout America? But guys, Mexican food is so much more than burritos. In fact, you’ll be hard pressed to find a burrito anywhere in Mexico.

Mexico is about tacos al pastor (pork cooked on a spit similar to gyros flavored with pineapple and achiote and smothered in cilantro and onions). Mexico is about Oaxacan mole negro, a dish so complex and flavorful that it often involves over 20 ingredients and 24 hours to make. Mexico is about cochinita pibil, possibly the greatest pork dish of all time (spoken by someone who’s eaten enough pork that I could quite possibly burst into flames if I ever stepped foot into a synagogue or mosque).

Note: All rights to photos belong to their respective owners and are used via a Creative Commons license.

What’s your favorite cuisine of all time?

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

Backpacking and the Art of Losing

August 29, 2021January 9, 2017 by Allison Green

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

When my entire life fits into a backpack, I notice everything that disappears. A phone charger left behind one hungover morning, a razor left in a hostel shower, a favorite pair of headphones tucked between the seats of a bus and forgotten in a hurry. Each loss is acutely felt. At first, I get annoyed with myself, cursing myself for another five or ten unnecessary dollars spent, thinking of how that could buy me another beachside beer or roadside dinner. Then I give in and accept the transitory nature of things. After all, the audacity of thinking we can own things is the root of all suffering.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Soon, I accept the transitory nature of time, too. I get hopelessly lost and amble through a city with no street signs, backpack straps cutting into my shoulders. I wait at a bus station that I’m not sure is a bus station but I’m told is a bus station. One time I find myself on a bus stopped on a Montenegrin highway for five hours for no discernible reason. At times like these, I feel a flash of anger materialize as a red flush in my cheeks. And then I breathe out, cool and blue.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

Half the names I’m told leave my mind before I’ve even had a chance to make an effort to remember them. People’s stories will run together: this one (what’s Canada’s name again?) quit their job to work on an organic farm in Thailand, or was it become a yoga teacher in India, or an English teacher in Korea? I answer the same three questions over and over again. I recite the list of places I’ve been over and over again. I have no idea where I’m going, over and over again. I’m from California, over and over again. Next. Each time, the conversation means a little less than before. But I still feel a wash of warmth come over me each time, the pleasant buzz of a temporary connection.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

But eventually all the losing gets to me. I miss the most mundane of things: the way my own duvet feels against bare skin, how easily my stove lights, how easy it is to buy groceries in my own language. Sometimes I find myself standing outside of a KFC staring in, basking in the red glow, imagining ordering a bucket of chicken thighs. I haven’t eaten there in five or maybe ten years but it still feels so damn familiar, like a distant relative’s home.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

Then there’s the gut punch feeling when you leave a place or a person you weren’t ready to leave. Even though I have no onward ticket, no external thing pushing me forward, my own feet move me forward, often in spite of myself. After all, what if the next place is better? I can always go back.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

And then there’s the suspicion you begin to have that home is wherever you aren’t. There’s the paradox that even though you’re seeing more of the world than any sane person can ever hope to see, you’re still acutely aware of how much you’ll never experience. There’s the realization that even though you may tell yourself — “I can always go back” — you can’t always do that. Because your obsession with not losing this one chance you have to live will once again draw you inexorably towards the unseen.

Note: Poem by Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

101 Simple Ways to Save Money for Travel

October 11, 2023December 8, 2016 by Allison Green

I’m gonna be brutally honest: it’s like some bloggers who publish guides on how to save money for travel aren’t even trying.

They tell you to cancel your landline as if that’s even a thing these days. They say, “stop ordering $5 coffees every day!” as if that’s something everyone does on the regular and that’s the only thing holding you back from travel. “5 x 365 is almost $2,000, enough to travel for four months in Vietnam!”

They parrot some ridiculously blown-up figure at you, assuming it’s a necessary expense that every “real person” faces, when in reality, only a small percentage of people spend that amount on coffee to begin with. And, let’s be real — those people aren’t the kind of people who really need to scrimp and save money to travel to begin with.

Well, guess what? I saved up enough money to quit my job to travel the world for the next four years or so, and I didn’t give up coffee or my social life to do it. I wasn’t an investment banker. No rich relative died and left me a fortune (though I’m candid that I’ve been afforded plenty of opportunity and privilege).

Nope. I was just a public school teacher. What did I do? I tracked my income and spendings, prioritized my spendings, identified non-negotiables and things I could do without, developed alternate income streams, and was a little bit creative when it came to planning things with my friends.

And the fact I’m most proud of? I did this all while living, traveling as much as I could, and working full-time as a teacher living in one of the most expensive cities in the world: NYC.

Not including my untapped retirement fund, I was able to save money for travel — approximately $50,000 over the course of five somewhat frugal years — while still affording to travel to 17 countries in that time alone! Here’s how:

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

Solo Traveling with Depression: Learning When to Say “Enough”

August 29, 2021November 17, 2016 by Allison Green

I have a theory that solo travel accelerates everything. Without other human constants to stabilize you, you experience everything more starkly: both more harshly and more beautifully. Your challenges are more Sisyphean; your successes, more revelatory. For someone like me, who has long battled mental illness, traveling with depression makes this even more true.

My four and a half months of constant travel – three of them solo – accelerated the pace of my life on an epic scale. I did things I’d never dreamed I’d do. I climbed the highest mountain in Montenegro, rode camels through the Sahara Desert, hitchhiked through Albania, and had conversations in six different languages with varying degrees of success.

Years ago, If you told me I'd have summitted a mountain, I'd have laughed in your face. — Years ago, if you told me I’d have summited a 8,000 foot mountain, I’d have laughed in your face.

I met people from all walks of life. From the happiest octogenarian in Trebinje, Bosnia who poured rakija after rakija for me to the lady in Berat, Albania who led me hand-in-hand up a cliff’s edge to the castle, I had so many touching moments with incredible, unforgettable people.

Even the shitty people I met along the way taught me something about myself: about my resilience and stubbornness, about my dogged belief that despite the bad apples, the world is still filled with good people, and that it’s worth fighting for.

I’ve always been a fairly resilient person, but after months of non-stop travel, my resilience began to flag as the familiar dark cloud of depression has appeared on the horizon. There were days in Rome where, after hours of motivating myself, I left the hostel only to walk around in a daze, feeling like I might fall asleep on my own two feet just while navigating the city.

I stayed up until 5 am, slept until 1, then berated myself for having wasted the day as the sun loomed low on the horizon just as I was leaving for the first time that day. I burst into tears when I accidentally skipped someone in line at an Indonesian takeaway restaurant in Amsterdam. When Trump was elected, I couldn’t even leave the Copenhagen apartment I was staying in, because I was sobbing for hours.

On my last day of my trip, I couldn't even go out and explore Copenhagen. — On my last day of my trip, I couldn’t even go out and explore this gorgeous city.

But here, to speak of my present, I need to go back to my past.

I was first put on antidepressants at age 18, after a nervous breakdown in my first year of college that nearly ended in me dropping out of NYU and moving home. I’d alternate between nights so full of anxiety it felt like my bed was full of needles and I couldn’t sleep, and depression so gripping that even getting juice from the bodega 30 meters from my apartment felt impossible.

After seeking treatment, life started to get better. Once my antidepressant began working, anxiety seemed to be my main challenge. It’s such a physical, visceral sensation: that choking feeling, the coiling stomach, the alienation you feel from your own brain.

But depression is so much harder to suss out. How many days does a bad mood need to last for it to be depression? How many times a day can I smile before I can’t quantify that as a depressed day? How many hours a day do I need to sleep restlessly to qualify as a depressed person? Anxiety is clear: the physicality obvious, painfully so. But depression is murky, questionable, to the point where even you question how much you deserve help.

Years later, having rebounded well from this episode, I made the decision to go off antidepressants rather abruptly and without the assistance of medical professionals, which — as anyone who knows anything will tell you — is stupid as fuck.

I remember standing on the train platform of the J train in Bushwick, Brooklyn, as I got my first brain zap. It felt as if someone opened an enormous door in the middle of a wind tunnel, opening a portal between my ears. The world — all of it — felt like it passed through my two eardrums. And I was scared. What the fuck had I been on that made me feel like this?

I redoubled my commitment to stay off of antidepressants. After all – something that makes me feel like that can’t possibly be good for me. The brain zaps gradually decreased, and for a time, I felt quite okay. When things started to go awry yet again about a year later, I placed the blame squarely on external sources. My dating life sucked. My roommate was terrible. The job I just started was incredibly stressful.

For years, I dealt with it, thinking it was part of life. For four long years, I took nothing but the occasional anti-anxiety pill when my reality felt too much to bear and the only thing I could do to calm myself was lie down, face-down, and breathe.

I thought that quitting my job and getting out of the city that I had grown to hate would fix me. I thought that what I was suffering was purely situational, that traveling would cure my anxiety and depression. So, I planned my exit strategy. I sold all my stuff, gave notice to my job, and set off to travel, like all the blogs told me I should.

For a while, I truly was living my dream. Anxiety and depression were dots on the horizon. I met every challenge with moxie and determination and improvised wildly. I chatted with every stranger, challenged myself, and threw myself into this new life. And god, was I really happy.

Traveling is what I want to be doing. Travel animates me and endlessly fascinates me. It brings me in touch with my best and truest self. Routine is what gets me down. Routine is what kills me. But the last month or so, I was stuck traveling with depression, which is barely traveling at all. It’s survival mode. I’d make deals with myself to urge myself out of the room, escaping only for a few blocks before the world felt oppressive and heavy and I’d retreat to my room or dorm. That? That wasn’t travel.

When the daily act of feeding myself - literally my favorite thing in the world - felt like a burden, I knew I needed a change. — When the daily act of feeding myself – *literally my favorite thing in the world* – felt like a burden, I knew I needed a change.

It’s not travel that causes depression for me. I was still suffering when I was a teacher in NYC. Except I was too busy with paperwork, with calming and trying to teach disabled kids, with the day-in-day-out bullshit of the job. When surrounded by chaos, it was so easy to forget that I was depressed – I was too busy focusing on everyone else because I had to.

Not to sound dramatic, but with the kind of kids I worked with – the kind who’d dart out of the doors and off into the city if you batted an eye the wrong way – lives were literally on the line. It was only when I’d go home and sink into bed and feel myself give in to the void – that’s when I would I remember I was suffering.

But when depression rears its head and you’re traveling solo, you have no distractions. You have time. You are your own company. You feel every feeling acutely. When you are traveling alone, your mood becomes your traveling companions. And let me tell you… anxiety and depression make terrible travel buddies.

Finally, I said – enough. I found a cheap flight back to California a month early – thank you Norwegian Air for being absurdly and improbably cheap and for having direct flights to Oakland. So now I’m back home, working with a psychiatrist to help me get my medications sorted, to get healthy routines in place so I can stay healthy and fit while I travel, and treat myself with the self-love that I always tell others to have – but often forget for myself.

Luckily I have this adorable pup at my side to get me through.

I know that I’ll be able to beat this. I’m a phoenix. I’ve emerged from worse.

At heart, even in the throes of depression, I am filled with a deep, immense, abiding love for myself. I know I have value. I know I still have lessons to teach and even more to learn. I know that I can still bring joy to others, and that others have put smiles on my face so wide they’ve hurt. I have more stories I want to tell. These fingers are just getting started.

“I am a series of small victories and huge defeats and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from here to there.” – Charles Bukowski

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

Urbex in Bosnia: The Sarajevo Bobsled Track, the Mostar Sniper Tower, & More

August 29, 2021November 11, 2016 by Allison Green

Bosnia bears its battle scars. The war that ripped through the country in the 1990s is still very much present in its architecture.

In an odd way, these reminders of the war have become a tourist attraction of sorts, from the Sniper Tower in Mostar to the abandoned Olympic bobsled track in Sarajevo and everything in between.

While I don’t wish to paint Bosnia as a place only of sadness and grieving, I think it’s important to understand the history of the country and pay respects to the victims of the recent wars should you choose to visit this wonderful country.

However, that is to say that Bosnia & Herzegovina does make a fantastic destination for dark tourism, but of course, you should visit respectfully and with an open attitude to learning about the history rather than a purely macabre interest.

That said, Bosnia is more than just a war-torn country. It is a place of unrivaled natural beauty and history. It has everything from a tiny patch of coastline to incredible mountains to gorgeous rivers and waterfalls.

But as a history geek slash habitual melancholic, I feel compelled to write up this guide to understanding the modern-day ruins of Bosnia, so you can understand the challenges the country has faced and what it has to recover from.

Especially in light of the vitriol leveled towards refugees worldwide – particularly Muslim refugees – I think it’s important to remember and pay respects to the human costs of hatred, war, and violence. As the poignant graffiti outside the Mostar sniper tower reminds us: “we are all living under the same sky”.

Mostar

Mostar is a wonderful city worth spending several days in, but it’s quite small – you can easily see the highlights of Mostar in a day.

If you’re into urban exploration, here are two destinations that should be on your list.

The Sniper Tower

The Sniper Tower is a former bank in the center of Mostar. As Yugoslavia broke apart, the wounds of dormant ethnic tensions reopened, causing widespread violence between ethnic groups in what is now Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Serbs and Croats used the bank as a sniper tower to shoot their Muslim neighbors, the Bosniaks, during the war, mostly in 1993-1994

If you’re on the Muslim side of the river (same side as the bus station), you’ll need to cross the Old Bridge and walk through the Old Town. Once you get to the main road (Bulevar) you’ll turn right and follow it for about 10 minutes until you hit the Spanish Square (Spanski Trg).

You’ll be confronted with a menacing looking abandoned triangular building. It’s hard to believe that less than thirty years ago, it was a fully functional bank. There’s graffiti all along the outside, and it’ll look like there’s no way in.

Technically speaking, there isn’t. Walk around the back of the building, where there’s a courtyard and a lot of apartment windows. It’s a little easier to enter here by first scaling one of the smaller cement blocks then pulling yourself up and over the ledge. Be careful when dropping down onto the ground floor, as there is broken glass everywhere.

Being inside the tower is haunting. Glass, trash, and 2-liter plastic bottles of cheap beer are everywhere. It’s clear that people have turned this building into something else entirely.

For some, it’s a home for the down and out; for others, a place to get drunk and scribble on the walls; for others, it’s a bit like rubbernecking a traffic accident.

If you climb to the top (which I recommend doing, as it is a moving experience), please be incredibly careful. There are absolutely no walls anywhere near the stairs – one wrong move and you could be seriously injured or even killed.

This is really not an experience for those who are afraid of heights. I never thought I was until I got there. There’s also a small gap in the middle of the staircase that you could easily fall into and break your leg. Really, don’t be stupid and go here after one too many Sarajevsko beers or rakijas. Keep your wits about you.

Another note: please be respectful of this place. I went with a girl from my hostel and she was giggling, cursing, and taking selfies all over the building, and it made me sick to my stomach.

As we left the tower, kids from some sort of international exchange program were traipsing up their stairs, swathed in flags of their home countries, also loud and giggly. I even saw a German girl in a fucking dirndl and German flag as if it were Oktoberfest. Dude, people died here. If you visit, treat it with respect.

A Walk Down Maršala Tita

If you come into Mostar by bus, you will likely walk down Maršala Tita, the main road on the Bosniak side of the river. As you walk down the street, you’ll see bombed out buildings where life – if not human life – has begun to take root.

Tree branches tumble out of blown-out windows. Signs warn against entering the buildings. I’d listen to these warnings. The Bosnian government is almost certainly not caring for these buildings and there’s no guaranteeing the structural integrity of any of these buildings.

As you’re walking from the bus station towards the Old Town, you’ll likely pass the old mosque and the Muslim graveyard. Note that nearly every single gravestone you’ll see was erected in 1993. Seeing this mass of gravestones with lives lost too young was one of most heartbreaking moments of my entire trip.

Sarajevo

The abandoned Olympic bobsled track

Sarajevo hosted the winter games on behalf of Yugoslavia in 1984. Less than 10 years later, the city would be under siege on all sides by Serbian forces. The siege would last 44 months – nearly four years – and claim the lives of tens of thousands.

What happened in Sarajevo was a little different than Mostar. Bosniaks, Croats, and yes, Serbs, were all trapped together – everyone who refused to leave the city they loved and grew up in was stuck. As such, the city feels a little more integrated and cohesive than Mostar, a city where I felt a faint but live wire of tension coursing through.

It’s sad to see this place so truly abandoned. What was once a place of national pride, patriotism, hope, and celebration of human endurance is now just a mostly-forgotten chute of concrete in the middle of the forest. At the same time, I find some sort of comfort to the way the forest is reclaiming this bobsled track. Moss is growing over the cement on the sides of the track, as if saying, in time, nature will cover all the blemishes men have left behind.

To get to the Olympic bobsled, it’s best to take a cab or a tour — unless the weather is nice and you fancy a 2 or 2.5 hour hike. I took a semi-private tour (with one other traveler) of the bobsled and the Tunnel of Hope for 25 euros organized by my hostel.

Tunnel of Hope

During the siege of Sarajevo, thousands of Bosnians dug a tunnel in order to obtain necessary items: food, arms, and of course – this being Eastern Europe – cigarettes. It’s located near the Sarajevo airport, and you’ll need to take a cab or a guided tour in order to reach it. The tunnel connected the besieged city of Sarajevo with Bosnian-held territory on the other side of the airport. Thousands of tons of goods entered the city this way, and it also allowed hundreds of thousands of Bosnians to flee the city. Because the tunnel goes directly under the airport, there’s not much of it that you’re allowed to traverse. However, you can tour a portion of the original tunnel as well as see videos and other information about its construction at the Sarajevo Tunnel Museum.

Sarajevo Roses

A macabre art installation of sorts, Sarajevo Roses are the literal scars that the ground bears from mortar shell explosions. Artists painted these wounds blood red to symbolize and memorialize the life lost in that spot. You can see one nearby Susan Sontag Square and another at the Tunnel of Hope museum, and there are many more scattered throughout the city. On average, 330 shells exploded in Sarajevo per day over their nearly 4-year-long siege, leading to these scars all over the city. They are slowly being replaced over time. I suppose part of this is the healing process, but another part of me hopes that they keep them to honor the lives lost by people who were too proud of their beautiful city to leave it and lost their lives defending and living in the place they loved. Remembering is the least we can do.

A few notes to understand:

– Bosnian refers to any citizen of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Bosniaks are an ethnic group within Bosnia, distinct from Serbs, Croats, and other much smaller minority groups (Romani, Albanian, and Montenegrin) who also live in Bosnia. Bosniaks are traditionally Muslim. Bosniaks were victims of genocide by Serbian forces during the wars of the early 1990s. For far more eloquent and detailed information than I can relay on this blog post, please please please go to the Gallery 11/07/95 in downtown Sarajevo to learn what happened to the victims of Srebrenica and other sites spread throughout Bosnia.

– The country is officially known as Bosnia and Herzegovina but I’ve called it Bosnia for short. Bosnia and Herzegovina are two historical regions that form one federation. There is also a separate semi-autonomous region of Bosnia, called Republika Srpska, which is majority Serb. If that wasn’t confusing enough, there are three presidents and 13 prime ministers, officially making Bosnia the most confusingly-governed nation in the world.

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Allison Green

eternalarrival.com

How I Work From Anywhere and Travel Indefinitely Using Upwork

August 29, 2021November 3, 2016 by Allison Green

If you’re feeling stuck in a rut with limited vacation time and a bucket list a mile long, I’ve got news for you. It doesn’t have to be that way.

There are countless ways to travel and live abroad — from working holiday visas to teaching English online. For many, freelancing is the ultimate goal, as it gives you total location independence. However, one of the most difficult things about becoming a freelancer is finding work. Luckily, there are digital freelance agencies out there who will make that a little easier for you.

I personally use Upwork to find editing, proofreading, and copywriting gigs. I’ll admit, some months are better than others, but in general, this makes it possible for me to finance long-term travel around the world and only withdraw minimal savings. I worked as a teacher for five years and lived frugally, so I have money stashed away to spend as well.

There are so many cheap destinations around the world to live or travel in that are perfect for the digital nomad. It’s quite possible to live or in many parts of the world off of an average of $30 a day, or $900 a month. In some parts, especially Southeast Asia, you can live on even half of that!

RELATED: 40 Cheapest Countries to Travel to on $30 a Day or Less

So, how much do I work? On average, I work about 10 hours per week from anywhere in the world I want. I no longer seek new clients, as this is definitely a big time investment. Since I love my current clients and my workload is really manageable, I haven’t felt the need to scale up, especially since this blog still takes a lot of time.

One day, my goal is to be able to monetize this travel blog, but this keeps me covered in the meantime. I also have savings which supplement my earnings, so in the event I don’t cover all my costs through freelancing, I have a cushion.

RELATED: How I Saved $50,000 to Travel the World Full-Time

Allison Green

eternalarrival.com