I am currently sitting on the balcony of my stateroom on the Azamara Journey, sipping a glass of cold white wine and watching the rocky coastline of Marmaris go by. The nearby Dalyan region is unique in that it boasts a rare combination of mountains and low wetlands, and we’ve just returned from a sun-soaked day cruising up and down the waterways. Think low-country Georgia meets the central coast of California.
I’ve got loads of photos and stories to share, but I’ve had trouble uploading them in bunches to the site. That will all go down next week upon my return to the mainland, but in the meantime you can check out a few that I’ve managed to get up on Wake and Wander’s Facebook page. Right now, you can get a glimpse of a few shots from Athens and Mykonos.
Santorini is our next stop, arriving first thing in the morning. With any luck, I should have some new photos of Turkey, Rhodes, and Kos up on Facebook soon.
Like most people on this planet, I sometimes get overwhelmed when I’m traveling. This is a good thing as a person and an explorer, but it can be one hell of a sore toe as a writer. On my recent adventure into the Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado, I was flooded with emotions from all angles. Again – a great thing – but it creates a challenge when it comes to words on a page and describing those feelings.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
When I have these moments, I go back to basics and give myself the same advice I always have: Just write the truth, you dipshit.
And so, eating my lunch perched upon a pile of sand overlooking the vast valley of dunes, I took out my notebook: I’ve got sand in my sandwich, and I don’t care. That’s the truest thing I know at the moment.
Indeed, more profound thoughts have been penned. But it sure as hell worked. The notes and thoughts go on, describing a world that existed way in the past, when I sat on the beach as a kid with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sand in my suit, my biggest worry the sly seagulls and whether or not it would rain. Flash forward to that moment and I’m sitting there trying to describe my feelings, and it all becomes clear: A trip to the Sand Dunes is more than a camping trip. In a way, it’s a journey back into the joys of childhood.
Part of that is because it’s a place where anything goes. Traditional hikes point you on a path, and even if you want to divert from that path, obstacles stand in your way. Cliffs. Rocks. Fallen trees. Bears. But at the Sand Dunes, any direction – literally any way you want to go – is up for grabs, all 360-degrees of space. That, and how could you not want to climb a giant pile of sand? Isn’t that childhood in a nutshell?
There are some places you take pictures of because you want to relay the beauty. There are other places you take pictures of because you need evidence – otherwise no one would believe you. In this case, I needed evidence. While the camera never seems to do large-scale natural wonders justice (i.e. the Grand Canyon), the imagery you see in the photos is pretty much on point. My only wish is that you could realize the size of these suckers, and hopefully the pictures of the valleys and our tent shed some light on that. The dunes cover about 19,000 acres, rise up about 750 feet, and were formed in part by sentiments from the Rio Grande river.
We had high hopes of hiking a few miles into the dunes for a full, immersive experience, but we were quickly humbled by the combination of the sand and the weight of our packs. You have to register with the visitor’s center, and from where you park your car, it’s a steep uphill climb to get over the first set of dunes. On one hand that is unfortunate – there’s just no other access point that I know of – but on the other, it’s what makes the journey special – not everyone is cut out for it. And it puts a sort of exclusivity upon the experience. We saw only one other set of campers way off in the distance.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
Once you get over that first set of dunes, going deeper does not necessarily guarantee any further remoteness (there are rumors of “hidden gems” and water holes, but to the best of my knowledge they are just rumors). My advice would be to hike into the first valley and find a place to call home within the first hour or two. You have to carry in everything you need, including water (I carried in about two gallons), and you’re not going to enjoy the hike with the heavy pack.
The dunes can be very windy, so while I’d recommend finding a place to camp, my suggestion would be to hold off on setting up your tent until later in the day. Traditional stakes don’t hold so well in the sand, and twice we returned to camp to see our tent tumbling down the valley. We were very lucky in our timing – that we happened to see it blow off. The wind comes from all directions and constantly changes throughout the day, and our tent would have blown on for miles had we not seen it break loose. To give you an idea of the crazy winds, our tent blew in one direction the first time, and the complete opposite the next only a few hours later.
As the day went on, the changing of the light was extremely obvious due to the intense reflection of the sun on the sand. As you’ll see in the photos, a few hours makes a huge difference in not only the shadows, but the color of the sand. This also means drastic changes in temperature at night, as the sand does not hold in the heat of the sun. During our trip, the temperature easily dropped 30-40 degrees over the course of the sunset. In some cases, you could be in the shade on one side of the dune and have your feet in cold sand, and if you climbed up to the top into the sunlight, you could barely stand on the sand without shoes or socks.
Other than walking around in the sand, there are plenty of other things to do in the area. If you have a high-clearance vechile, I’d recommend camping the night before on Medano Pass and entering the National Park that way (there’s no entry fee if you do). Zapata Falls is a nearby short hike, and did you know you can “sandboard” down the dunes? You can check out the somewhat-cheesy video below for some advice and to get a glimpse.
Last piece of advice: Accept the sand. There’s no point in fighting it – it will get everywhere – so you might as well embrace it. I recommend sliding down a dune head first as a way to break the ice.
Photos:
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
The Great Sand Dunes of Southern Colorado. Photo by Wake and Wander.
While I am sure that most of you would be hesitant to step foot onto a cruise ship or into the country of Turkey right now, this weekend I will fly from Philadelphia to Athens and depart on a week-long Mediterranean cruise.
I’m confident we’ll be all good in terms of safety, otherwise I obviously wouldn’t be going. The cruise line is Azamara Club Cruises and the ship is the Azamara Journey, which is a mid-sized luxury liner owned by Royal Caribbean. We’ll leave Athens on Monday and make stops in Mykonos, Ephesus, Kos, Rhodes, Marmaris, and Santorini.
Azamara recently made headlines when they announced that they would give guests the cost of their airfare back in the form of ship credit. In addition to Greece and Turkey, the cruise line also offers routes to Italy, Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, Japan, China, and the French Riviera.
Crossing adventures off my Colorado bucketlist begins in about four hours when I’ll shoot down to the southern part of the state for a backpacking weekend in the Great Sand Dunes National Park. The plan is to camp at the entrance tonight in a meadow of sorts, then hike into the dunes tomorrow morning about five miles or so depending upon the conditions.
The Great Sand Dunes in Southern Colorado.
From everything I’ve heard, it’s one of the most unique and spectacular sights to see in the state, and it’s been a long time coming for me. Apparently, sand gets everywhere, so I’m bringing my fair share of plastic bags and my ski goggles in case the wind kicks up.
Check out the map and preview photo below (and a quick google search won’t disappoint, either). Story, photos, and insight to come next week. Cheers to a rockin’ weekend for all.
Map showing the location of Sand Dunes National Park in Southern Colorado.
I made it very clear a few weeks ago that my main goal of my trip to Charleston was to discover whether or not it was a beach-town getaway. In a recent article for Conde Nast, I explained the results of my research, that yes, it definitely is, so long as you know where to stay. Charleston proper is a peninsula and surrounded on three sides by water, but when it comes to sand between your toes and beach bars, the nearby barrier islands are where you want to set up shop.
So I got my answer, but now that I’ve visited and explored, I am, truth be told, more confused than ever.
“Rainbow Row” in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Growing up in New Jersey, I have forever been familiar with people from the northeast taking off down I-95 to the Outer Banks, Myrtle Beach, and Hilton Head areas of the Carolinas, but rarely have I heard of anyone heading down to Charleston for a long-weekend or beach vacation. Distance I suppose could be a reason, if you completely ignore the fact that Hilton Head is about two hours south of Charleston.
I want to take nothing away from the other areas mentioned above, but none of them are able to offer the combination that Charleston can, the beach culture along with the colorful, historic town that includes youthful nightlife, a strong shopping scene, and an abundance of respectable restaurants (specifically seafood).
Charleston has the traditional flat and wide east-coast beaches, but the lowcountry waterways were my favorite outdoor feature of the area. They are incredible for stand-up paddle boarding – you feel like you’re lost in the wilderness, and for the most part, the currents and tides are manageable.
Northeasterners, take notice, and please inform me why Charleston has failed to land on your radar. Is it a lack of marketing up that way, or is there a specific reason? As always, feel free to shoot me a note if you’re interested in finding out more about Charleston, including where to stay, eat, play, etc.
Here are a few photos from the trip:
“Rainbow Row” in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
“Rainbow Row” in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Classic lowcountry waterways in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Intracoastal waterway in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Waterway at sunset on Isle of Palms in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Waterway at sunset on Isle of Palms in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Live oak trees in Battery Park in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
Houses near East Battery in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo by Wild Dunes.
Beach on Isle of Palms in Charleston, South Carolina. Photo By Wake and Wander.
