Stumbling around in the dark without waking any of the 10 sleeping travellers was a little harder than I expected. I was impressed with myself for packing my rucksack the night before, as it would now be close to impossible. Stepping over bags, guitars, and beer bottles without disturbing a soul was the first mission of the day. What I was about to do would be remembered forever.
Travel north from the city of Christchurch in New Zealand and you will find the town of Kaikoura. It is renowned for whale watching and home to an abundance of albatross and many species of fauna and flora. Having found my bike, I cycled along the waterfront, witnessing the sun rising to meet a small body of people in the distance. They’d had to face the same obstacles as I did earlier that morning. As we suited up, the chatter was limited but the warm glow from the sun seen in each other’s eyes seemed to say more than words.
After choosing snorkels we headed out to the water’s edge. I could sense the excitement heightening and the restlessness starting to show. Rosy cheeks flourished and bright eyes stared out to the clear, still waters off the peninsula of this small coastal town. It looked calm now, but I knew that would soon change.
As the boat rode the waves over the Hikurangi Trench, my eyes fixed on the sunrise. Closing my eyes for two seconds, I would then open them to find a new array of colors through my camera lens. These waters are full of marine life that provides rich feeding grounds for many species of dolphin and whale, and very soon a pod of around 200 dusky dolphins accompany us.
These inquisitive marine mammals were playing all around the boat and before I knew it, I was swimming alongside them. All the commotion bubbles reduce my long distance vision, and as I look up out of the water a small pod are swimming straight for me. I emit a high pitched squeak, a noise I’m told will tell them you are not a threat, and wait. Suddenly, about a foot and a half in front of my nose, I find a dolphin nose.
That split second I will always hold in my memory. I can see into his eyes, I can tell he means me no harm, I feel so close to him. Then, in the blink of an eye, he swerves smoothly, yet sharply, to my right. The distance and timing were perfect. Any more and he would have knocked straight into me. Any less and he would not have satisfied his own curiosity.
Back on the boat hours later, as we return, the sun is high and the mountain range is waking up. I feel rejuvenated. Returning silently to my dorm, I find not a kiwi has stirred.
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It was the first day of an event where artists would spend five days in different coastal regions of Northeast Florida creating a painting a day. The culmination of the event would be on Saturday, with all the art being shown and available for sale at a reception at the Ponte Vedra Cultural Center. All the proceeds go to the North Florida Land Trust.
I was just about to give up on my MapQuest directions to the next artists’ location when I spotted an artist on a quiet road next to a park with children swinging and laughing. He was capturing a classic street scene of old homes and palm trees. I feel compelled to point out the obvious at this stage -- there were palm trees at each scenic location. I mean, it is, after all, coastal Florida.
Thursday the artists were to be found either at Guana or Hanna Park painting ocean scenes, lake views, and intercoastal masterpieces. On Friday morning, the rain clouds were out, so my journey to Vilano Beach in St. Augustine started in the early afternoon as the sun and blue skies returned. 
The North Florida Land Trust permanently preserves natural areas and special places in North Florida. This event will help fund the cost of creating the Conservation Resource Center, which will be established by purchasing and renovating the landmark Old Oar House Restaurant property on Mickler Road in Ponte Vedra Beach. For more information on the North Florida Land Trust go to www.NorthFloridaLandTrust.org and for more information on this unique event go to www.PaintingTheRegion.com.
The restaurant and saloon are housed in a two-story Victorian house built in 1914 and the adjoining “National Garage,” once a livery stable for workhorses in the local mines. When automobiles became the latest rage, the stable was converted to a service station. 
It’s hard to tell where land ends and lake begins, what is solid and what is not. Lined by rippling mountains to the east and west, Inle Lake stretches seemingly infinitely into the distance. Our motorized longboat glides through tangles of weed and past giant lumps of solid, floating greenery as gulls swoop past. 
The villagers are industrious. One village teems with weavers creating cloth from silk or fiber from the stem of the lotus plant. Lotus cloth is coarser than silk, but is rarer and therefore more expensive. The coarser cloth is used to make garments worn by monks. 
Across a small stretch of water, a man paddles a boat carrying a pile of lake weed to spread as fertilizer on a floating tomato garden. Villagers use long bamboo poles to stake massive floating islands of solid soil to the lake bottom. They then plant tomatoes, onions, eggplant, and other crops in the knowledge of an assured rich harvest in this fecund environment of abundant water and natural fertilizer. 
As a fitting finale to the day, the lake unveiled a spectacular and deeply romantic sunset complete with vivid reflections of a glowing mountain range and a moving panorama of silhouetted boats and their unique leg rowers. 
The small town of Haines nestles peacefully, overlooking the remote shores of Alaska’s pristine, 90-mile Lynn Canal -- the longest fjord in America. Haines lies at the base of the fog-shrouded Takshanuk and Chilkat Mountains. A belt of foothills covered in Pacific Northwest evergreens is all that separates the town from these towering massifs with glistening glaciers crawling down their steep black granite canyons. 
As you might expect from its expansive natural setting, most of the attractions in Haines revolve around the great outdoors and indeed, the town is a world-renowned haven for outdoor adventurers. During its summer months (from May to September), backpackers, campers, kayakers, rock climbers, and mountain bikers converge here to ply their sports. They paddle on scenic gray-silted lakes, hike through rugged, heavily forested trails, scale impossible rock faces, and free fall for miles on bone-jarring descents down skinny mountain trails. 
A couple of days later we cycle back towards the Chilkoot River along the coast road with Thom Ely, owner of Sockeye Cycle Company, who leads Alaska Bicycle Tours. We pause on the roadside to watch a mother bear with two cubs strolling idly along the beach. The chubby bears sniff for any tasty salmon morsels that might have washed up on the shore of the fjord. Looking up behind us, we see a bald eagle keeping watch in a tall Douglas fir just across the road. 
Rainbow Glacier Adventures took us on a tour of an active gold mine that brought us up to speed on the gold mining history of Haines, and we visited a working gold mine -- one of the highlights of my Alaska gold tour. Holly Jo Parnell picked us up at our hotel to drive us 35 miles out to the Big Nugget Mine. 
We’ve seen so much nature, now it’s time to see Haines’s other activities. Our Jilkaat Kwaan Cultural Tour of the Klukwan Village is excellent. The tribal longhouse is new enough for us to smell the cedar planks. It has a fire pit sunk into its center with an opening in the roof above. It took the tribe five months to build this longhouse and decorate it with totem poles, which tell several stories in their deeply etched carvings. Tribal cultural leader Daniel Klanott, 33, points out bears, ravens, eagles, whales, and other animals that are deep, symbolic parts of their culture. 
On Main Street we come across the truly unique and world-famous Hammer Museum. It’s easy to spot because there’s a huge 20-foot-tall hammer standing in front of it. It would be fair to say that museum curator Dave Pahl has an obsession with hammers -- all types of hammers. 
One of the most visited places in this well-kept facade is the Haines Brewing Company, where you’ll meet master brewer and ZZ Top lookalike Paul Wheeler. Sample some of his fine hand-crafted ales and beers including Dalton Trail Ale, Lookout Stout, Eldred Rock Red, IPA, and Captain Cook’s Spruce Tip Ale. It’s a small operation, but extremely popular with the locals who are constantly dropping by to refill their growlers. Sample Dave’s homemade root beer -- it’s delicious. 
Lazy Lunch is a tiny little venue and most patrons just get their food to go, since the tables on the outdoor garden patio are usually full. Why wouldn’t they be -- the seating area is surrounded by the most amazing little wrought-iron gate enclosed garden. Not one detail in this garden has been left to chance including the pergola bench encased in English Ivy and the occasional flutter of a butterfly.
The mighty Zambezi River is 1,678 miles long and crosses five countries before it reaches Mozambique and empties into the Indian Ocean. Below Victoria Falls the river has carved out the Batoka Gorge, providing world-class white water rafting opportunities. The rapids are officially classed as Grade 5: “extremely difficult, long and violent rapids, steep gradients, big drops and pressure areas.” Adventure companies on both the Zambia and Zimbabwean sides of the river offer rafting and kayak trips through the gorge. 
We set off. Titanic stands in the back and steers the craft. We paddle according to his commands. We hit the first rapid, aptly named The Boiling Point. The river hits a rock wall and veers sharply to the left, creating a huge wave. We lose two people overboard. Safely through the eddy we emerge into a calm pool and pick up the lost paddles and the missing couple.
Perhaps we have improved our technique but the rapids along the stretch of river post lunch seem to be less challenging. The slower pace affords the opportunity to admire the scenery. At one point I see an (admittedly small) crocodile sunning itself on the rocks on the bank. I vow to stay in the raft no matter what mishaps we face. It is late afternoon when we pull up at the end of the day’s run. 
On a recent trip to San Francisco to attend a conference, I found myself trying to decide what to do with my free time. Instead of the typical tourist things in the city, I decided on a wine-tasting trip to the Tri-Valley area and a trip to Sausalito. 
The next morning I walked to the Farmer’s Market at the docks in front of the Tower at Union Station. The morning was cool and bright and the Farmer’s Market was one of the best I have seen. The vegetables were brilliant in color and the flowers jumped out at you. The people were interesting as well. It was full of couples, people on bikes, people with their pets and children, all milling around, sampling the strawberries and grapes and drinking coffee. There were vendors selling everything from trinkets to original artwork along with the food. Inside Union Station, all of the vendors were open and there wasn’t anything to want for -- from organic, locally grown and pressed olive oil to homemade hot chocolate so thick and rich you just had to have more.
I was on my way to catch the ferry over to the town of Sausalito. The ferry ride was brisk and windy but it offered great views of the Golden Gate Bridge (with some of the peaks already in the fog) and a nice view of the infamous Alcatraz prison -- a trip for another day. The view looking at Sausalito and up at the mountains, with the homes built into the sides, is as breathtaking as the view of the bay looking back at San Francisco. 
I arrived early to catch the ferry back, so I sat and watched the sailboats and kayaks in the bay. The best part of the return ferry was the entertaining employee with the megaphone who, in an excellent effort to entertain all of us waiting for the arriving passengers to exit, gave detailed and colorful instructions on how, when, where, and why to board the ferry. He really seemed to enjoy his job and his timing was perfect. 
Locked between mountains and the Gastineau Channel, Juneau is a great portal for visitors to be introduced to the rugged and beautiful “last frontier” state of Alaska. With a population of 31,000, Juneau is a cross between a city, a frontier town, a cruise ship destination, and small town America, all of which you will experience within minutes of each other. 
The Mendenhall Glacier is an ideal place to set the naturalistic stage for your visit to Juneau. Caught in a deep valley between tall granite outcrops, the glacier presents a breathtaking sight, with its bluish-gray cliffs and tall ridges of ice snaking down from a huge ice field. Sunk into the top of a small butte and surrounded by Northwest evergreens, the Mendenhall Glacier Visitor Center is an ideal place to view the glacier. Only a 15-minute drive from town, it’s the oldest visitor center in the U.S. Forest Service, and one mile from the huge glacier that dominates the vista.
The next day we launch a kayak from Above & Beyond Alaska Company’s Kayak Center into the eerily quiet Mendenhall Lake. The calm waters are shrouded in lacy curtains of mist as we slowly paddle our way toward the glacier, about two miles distant. We silently glide among oddly-sculpted icebergs, some the size of small cars or large houses, as they loom up around us. Their colors change from blue to green to white depending on their depth and size. It’s like being in a giant ice-filled margarita glass, with a rim of forest and mountains.
It would be gross touristic negligence to visit Juneau without going on a whale-watching excursion. To see these behemoth 45-foot-long denizens of the deep erupt 15 feet or more from the water in a feeding frenzy is more than spectacular. It is, simply put, a sight that must be seen to be believed. Captain Greg of Weather Permitting Alaska takes us out in his aluminum boat to show us these enormous creatures, telling me that he guarantees a whale sighting.
Back in Juneau, we take the Mount Roberts Tramway to the top of the steep, 2,000-foot-high mountain of the same name, and catch a breathtaking view of Gastineau Channel and Douglas Island far below us. This panorama of absolute seclusion is a powerful reminder of how Juneau can only be reached by boat or plane -- there are no roads leading into Juneau from the mainland. We visit a half-blind eagle in a shelter, walk along the hiking trail for a while, and watch an informative movie, Seeing Daylight, about Tlingit Indian legends, culture, and language.
Much of Juneau’s history revolves around its gold mining days that started in 1880, so you’ll find plenty of gold mining museums and tours here. Tucked away in a rugged mountain valley behind Juneau, the Last Chance Mining Museum is absolutely crammed, floor to ceiling, with thousands of old pieces of gold mining equipment ranging from small to enormous. The gadgets make the museum look like the setting for a Steampunk Convention. 
The Alaska State Museum, a white concrete building with art nouveau decorations sculpted into its walls, is only a ten-minute walk from the Juneau-Douglas City Museum, and is equally impressive. Although not as focused on mining as the Juneau-Douglas City Museum, it gives a polished, in-depth recounting of the state’s history and natural history, including Native Cultures, History Galleries, a For Kids Only section, and much more. 
The Juneau Steamboat Company Harbor Tour, ably led by Captain John L. George, is a low-key summary of the Juneau gold rush heritage. You sit inside a turn-of-the-century, wood-fired passenger steamboat as it chugs sedately along the Gastineau Channel at 3.5 knots. Wearing a black vest complete with silver watch chain and captain’s hat, Captain George regales you with tales of how these steamboats were a common form of transport back in the day, ferrying miners and their families across the channel. 
Many, many small fish attack my feet and feverishly nibble at my ankles, toes, and soles. I gaze into the tank of water into which my legs are dangling and watch with great interest, because the Dr. Fish attendant assures me the fish are only cleaning my feet. “There is nothing to worry about,” she says in English. “This is safe and hygienic and does not hurt.”
Before entering the sterile water I must wash and dry my feet so as not to contaminate the tank and tiny fishes. I will do the same when my thirty minutes (about US$22) are up. Fascinated, I watch schools of these little fish attack my poor, weary, travel-tired feet. The tank faces the street and suddenly I am the center of attention as throngs of onlookers watch the frenzied feeding on my feet.
Today directional travel east to west or west to east in the U.S. is simply a drive on one of the Interstate highways. But older people might remember Route 66. You can’t be in a hurry if you would like to explore the old route. It is accessible along busy Interstate 40. Take every exit possible to see the signs and old buildings, and don’t forget your camera. Here are some highlights, starting in Oklahoma…
Lucille’s in Hydro, Oklahoma, was built in 1929. It was first named the Provine Station in 1934. The building has an over-the-drive design and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
The Conoco Gas Station and Café in Shamrock, Texas, is a distinctive tower building built in 1936. This is an excellent example of a gas station/diner of the 1930s. Listed as a Texas Historic Landmark in 1994. 
Tee Pee Curios in Tucumcari, New Mexico, was built in the 1940s as a gas station and was doing well until Route 66 widened. Tee Pee Curios had to give up its gas pumps for the road. It is a very distinctive building design. 
The Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Arizona, is a unique set of teepee rooms. They were built in 1950. There are 
This portion of old Route 66 is a step back in time. The little town of Oatman, Arizona, originally called Vivian, came into being in 1902. The name was changed in 1909 to Oatman. Oatman was bypassed in 1953 by the new alignment of Route 66. Be careful because there are donkeys everywhere and they are protected.
Located in Needles, California, the Wagon Wheel Restaurant was built in the 1950s as Lynn’s Broiler. It became the Wagon Wheel Restaurant in 1978.