We're finally coming to the end of our Asian excursion, and what a fantastic, diverse, and enriching section of our trip it has been. New experiences met us at every stop, from the Middle East to the islands of Japan. We made fast friends in the most unlikely of scenarios and caught up with family so far from home. And, of course, we also fell in love with the furry, scaly, gregarious beasts of this vast continent.

The critters we'll miss

Sleepily obedient donkey (Israel - Sea of Galilee)

Ibexes squadding up (Israel - Jerusalem)

Jordan's next top camel showing off his smize (Jordan - Wadi Rum)

Another day at the office donkey (Jordan - Petra)

Shimmering desert mermaid (Dubai)

Afternoon snack elephant (Sri Lanka)

Brahmas on the move (Burma)

'Oh hello welcome to my teahouse!' koi (Taipei)

Wild Christmas snowmen (Japan)

Up Next:

Our last post! Some not-too-deep thoughts and critical stats from our year in motion.

Twenty years ago my intrepid parents packed up their lives and three kids to move thousand miles to Tokyo. Over the next three years, they somehow also had the energy to pack us up for a new destination every school holiday. And while we may have complained about all the walking in the Forbidden City or not realized the significance of the Terracotta Soldiers until they later appeared in our textbooks, those early years are where my love of international travel began.

What better country could there be for the last destination on Stef & my journey?

Kyoto

Our first stop in the land of the rising sun was the wintry Imperial city of Kyoto. In contrast to Tokyo’s sea of skyscrapers, Kyoto has preserved more of its traditional Japanese architecture, with a wealth of ornate shrines and perfectly manicured parks. You slide screen doors to enter tatami mat restaurants, exchange your shoes for slippers at temples and wind between narrow streets in search of late-night ramen (go to Ippudo!).

The first day we caught the tail end of the fall colors at the Inari shrine. Right at the entrance, we were stopped for an interview by some Japanese schoolchildren sent to practice their English. We were in a hurry to finish touring the temple before lunch, but for our time they rewarded us with immaculately constructed Christmas cards that far, far surpassed our best elementary school handiwork.

Once we'd said our goodbyes to the kiddos, we headed up the path through a parade of red gates (torii) and past the watchful eyes of the Kitsune messengers.

Over the course of the next two days, we would stop to take in the beauty and peaceful aura of many of Kyoto's top temples. We hiked our way through the ruby hills surrounding Kiyomizu-dera, criss-crossed a bamboo forest at Arashiyama, and circled the beautiful golden shrine at Kinkaku-ji.

All this walking made us feel more deserving of a little splurge. We wrapped up our day in the beautiful neighborhood of Gion, using pictures from online as clues to track down a small restaurant with a legendary Kaiseki menu (Gion Karyo). The incredible service gave us ample opportunity to practice our "arigatos" and bowing as we watched each of the 10 dishes being prepared before our eyes.

Tokyo

For our final two days we raced back across the countryside to Tokyo on the Shinkansen train.

Sanae, my former babysitter, was willing to overlook any transgressions from my schoolboy days and kindly met us for dinner with her son. We caught up about all things Tokyo, our travels and her rose-colored recollection of my childhood behavior over an immaculate meal of sashimi and soba.

We commemorated our final day of the trip with a walk down (my) memory lane, returning to the neighborhood where I grew up. Surprisingly little was different, especially for a neighborhood in a city that epitomizes growth and change. Our old house, school, and nearby shops were all still going strong. The senior citizens fishing the stocked pond at the local park were still out in full force despite the winter weather. And, most importantly, the Baskin Robbins next to our trusty supermarket still stocked my favorite flavor.

In a way, it's comforting to know that while a lot of the places we've seen in our travels may be totally different in the next 5 years, 10 years, or even a few months, there are always some corners of the world that will remain so wonderfully the same.

Up next

We’ll be saying goodbye to Asia with all the animal pictures we can muster before wrapping up our travels and this blog in the good 'ol US of A.

There's a store in Taipei where you can get food, drinks, coffee, a cell phone, drop off your dry cleaning, book plane tickets and get your taxes done. This magical place? 7 Eleven.

The fact that you can find so many services in one store gives you an idea of the efficiency a busy Taipei local's life demands. The city has an electric liveliness to it at any hour of day or night. Every street corner and tiny back alley has someplace where people are on the move or lined up for the most popular hole in the wall restaurant or wrestling with an unruly toddler. Even in the city parks, gangs of grandpas are busy at their gambling hustle. But if you know just where to look, Taipei is rich with little pockets of experience where life slows way, way down.

Precious produce

Our first day in Taipei started with what seemed to be a relaxing jaunt to the well endowed National Palace Museum. We quickly learned, however, that the crowds all jostling each other in the lobby and on the stairwells came to the museum for one sight and one sight only: the magnificent Jade Cabbage. We'd never heard of it until now, but apparently it's a pretty big deal in Taiwan. Loads of kids on school field trips slowly filed past it for a look, and we joined up with them to see what all the fuss was about. And while in the end it didn't necessarily seem like something worth flocking to in such numbers, the piece was an expertly carved and striking stone paired to exactly the right purpose.

Image from Wikipedia

Old faithful

By this time, we were eager to take a load off, so night market food wasn't on the menu for us. But we still wanted something classically Taipei and somewhat special. Enter Din Tai Fung.

Okay, we know it's a chain and we know there's one in Seattle. But Taipei is where it all began for them, and they didn't grow to be this popular for nothing. Soup dumplings (xiaolongbao) are the name of the game here, and we loved watching an army of chefs preparing the brothy, meaty packets of goodness just feet from our table.

Full of dumplings and joy, we started our chilly walk home under the glow of Christmas lights and the neon of Taipei 101, what was once the world's tallest building.

Spirited Away

The next day, we set off on a little excursion to Jiufen, a tiny seaside town about an hour's bus ride from Taipei. We tried our luck on the market street, but after nearly losing an eye to the crowd's umbrella tips, we decided to slow things down.

We retreated straight to Jioufen Tea House, a traditional place where we learned the finer points of brewing oolong tea and waited out the afternoon rain. When we finally emerged, admittedly a bit waterlogged, we were amazed at what we saw.

This sleepy hillside town has an almost mythical quality about it, especially at night when all the red lanterns dotting the eaves of the houses get lit up. Once you visit, it comes as no surprise that the town was the basis for the ghostly setting in Miyazaki's Spirited Away.

Image from Spririted Away

Late-night snack(s)

Our stomachs were growling for something more substantial than pineapple cake, so as soon as we stepped off the bus again in Taipei we headed to the Raohe Night Market for some grub.

Almost as soon as we entered, we were overwhelmed by deliciousness. We could see that there would be a wait for some of the more popular stalls, so we quickly queued up for some pork pepper buns (hujiao bing) baking in a gigantic Chinese tandoor oven and let the sights and smells wash over us.

About 3 different savory foods and two ridiculously rich chocolate wheel cakes later, we were full, happy, and ready to lumber home for the day.

Ancient places, ancient appetites

We set some pretty modest goals for our next day so we could do a bit of sleeping in: a visit to Longshan Temple and some famous beef noodles.

When we hopped off the subway at Longshan Station, the scene before us felt much the same as the rest of the city-busy, hectic, and a little bit misty. But stepping through the front gate of the beautiful and meticulously detailed temple, it felt as if we'd checked the hustle and bustle at the door. Sure, there were a lot of people physically in the space, but the calm and quiet nature of their worship gave the place a very spiritual feel.

Once the growl of our stomachs started punctuating the stretches of whispered prayer, it was time to recuse ourselves and make our way to Yongkang Beef Noodle. Though we arrived for our dinner at the absolute last lunch sitting, the rich and spicy broth, falling-apart beef, and delightfully toothsome noodles had us satisfied through the evening. And we didn't even have to wait in line! We were a little nervous at how easily we'd slipped into the early bird special routine, but any time can be time for a great meal in Taipei.

Up next

Our final stop(s) of the trip! We can't believe it's coming to an end so soon, but we're going out with a bang in Japan.

There's a ton of information about Burma out there, but you might be surprised to find that almost all of it is outdated. As recently as 5 or 6 years ago, you needed crisp $100 bills to exchange for the local currency, as there were no ATMs to serve you. Hotels were hard to come by, and flights couldn't be booked outside the country except by an agent. But all of that feels like a bygone era now.

While Burma still lives somewhat under the shadow of a strict military junta, it has been developing and opening up to the world at a pace so rapid that guidebooks can't hope to keep up.

We couldn't wait to see it for ourselves.

A day in Mandalay

We arrived in Mandalay with one full day to acclimatize and do some light exploring before heading to Bagan. Our day started off with a visit to Mahamuni Paya, one of Myanmar's holiest pilgrimage sites for Buddhists. After filing away our shoes and crossing the searingly hot tiles to the center of the temple, we watched with great curiosity as men crowded forward to press gold leaf into a massive Buddha statue, while women fervently prayed a short distance back.

Of course, if praying isn't your style, there are diversions of the furry variety to take up your time at the temple.

The day began to heat up, so we hurried into a cab to squeeze in a visit to Shenandaw Monastery. The monastery is one of the only surviving original buildings from the Royal Palace, having avoided destruction in WWII, but most notably it is made entirely of gorgeous weathered teak. In a religion where almost every important site is gilded, the monastery's utter simplicity makes it a standout beauty.

We decided to try walking the rest of the way home, but as we reached the halfway point we started to succumb to the heat. It took some time for us to find a taxi, but we fortunately had a little distraction in the form of some insane teenagers doing standup wheelies on motorcycles and scooters. They blazed down the street recklessly (and yet, quite adeptly) over and over again, flashing devil-may-care grins at us all the while.

The voyage to Bagan

At the crack of dawn the next day, we boarded a cozy little boat headed for Bagan. By the time we arrived at our destination, we were totally sold on boat travel. It's an amazing way to see a lot of the varied countryside without having to negotiate the roads or worry about directions. And with 10 hours to kill and no wifi on our cruise down the Irrawaddy River, we had plenty of time to get to know our shipmates in between relaxing with a book and watching the riverbank slip on by.

Once we pulled up to the dock in Bagan and hopped across three other boats to reach shore, we haggled somewhat successfully for a cab and started for our hostel. On the way there, our driver pointed out that the sun was close to setting, so he took us on a slight detour to catch the day's last rays from the top of one of the best pagodas.

Looking out over the dusky plain at the over 2000 pagodas standing in front of us, we felt totally humbled by the view. The pagodas are not only impressive in terms of sheer numbers, but also the expert craftsmanship of each individual one is evident when you get up close. We'd never seen anything like it.

We would spend the next two days dirt-biking around the massive complex, dodging herds of Brahma cows and covering just a fraction of these incredible shrines.

Floating through life

The next morning, we boarded a flight on our first Burmese airline to Inle Lake. Getting through the airport was an odd experience, with an interesting sticker-based security system, but once we were on the plane we were impressed by how utterly normal it seemed. More generous than most domestic American flights, they even offered snacks, which, curiously, were cherry danishes.

We arrived at our hotel on the lake and quickly took off on a tour by boat. We passed scores of local fisherman setting nets and paddling their boats in the traditional style that's unique to the region. With one end of the oar wrapped snugly in the bend of their knee and the other tucked under their arm, they're free to use both hands to pick their catch out of the nets or give a friendly wave as two goofy American tourists float by.

Our guide pressed on into some of the lake villages, where the locals lead surprisingly normal lives, just on stilts. They've got floating streets complete with functional gates and yards, floating gardens with loads of fresh produce, and even pets and livestock living on stilted levels below their houses. We chugged around the block in our little boat, totally in awe of peoples' adaptability to such a foreign habitat.

Yangon

The next day we made for dry land and the big city of Yangon (or Rangoon, if you fancy standing up to the powers that be) and the unbelievably grand Shwedagon pagoda.

We spent an afternoon in a slow circle around the shining gold leviathan, not knowing whether to be more impressed by the incredible wealth that had been poured into the monument itself or by the veritable army of sweepers dedicated to its cleanliness.

We left Burma feeling lucky to have experienced it as it is now—accessible, but not without its quirks and opportunities for genuine interaction. While it's great for Burma's economy that so many people, like us, are clamoring to visit, there's always the risk that it'll swing too far away from its true self. But with a rich culture, lovely people, and stunning relics from the past, she's sure to fill you with wonder whenever you can get away to see her.

Up next

We're headed to China (kinda). The street food and skyscrapers of Taipei are calling our name.

"See? It's not like India," our taxi driver proudly remarked as we coasted down the smooth, open highway.

We'll admit, we'd definitely associated the two in our heads before arriving. But while Sri Lanka is close to its continental sibling in proximity, its incredible variety of cultures, climates, landscapes, and food all packed into such a compact little island makes it a fascinating destination in itself.

Colombo

Most of our time in Sri Lanka's capital was spent either acclimating to or hiding from the incredible heat and humidity. Every step had us pouring sweat, and while we tried our best to see the tourist sights, we were no match for the sweltering conditions. Luckily, we could retreat into the air-conditioned embrace of a tea lounge for the afternoon.

Determined to see what real Sri Lankan food was like before we set out to some of the more tourist-oriented areas of the country, we took the evening to walk down the boardwalk at Galle Face. There were a healthy collection of street vendors selling chili-dusted mango and pineapple, prawn pancakes, and crispy fries, but we had our tastebuds set for something a little more substantial: deviled chicken. This deliciously spicy, peppery base was loaded into a chewy flatbread with caramelized onions, cheese, and loads of cilantro.

By this point, we'd pretty much violated all the rules of "safe eating" while traveling in Southeast Asia. But we had the crowd on our side— the stall was totally packed with people—so we crossed our fingers and dug in.

Kandy

The next afternoon, so far feeling no ill effects from our culinary explorations, we boarded the train for Kandy at Colombo's central station. Our bumpy-but-beautiful 5 hour odyssey through Sri Lanka's interior took us past rice paddies and dense mountain forests on our way to the heart of tea country. As it made its way around particularly curvy sets of track, the train whipped us around so much we were convinced it was going to jerk itself right off the rails. We glanced around the car in a panic, then relaxed a little bit once we saw how utterly unruffled the local passengers seemed.

When we finally pulled into the station, we were more than a little ragged from the day's journey. We pushed our way weakly through the crowd at the station until we saw our incredibly kind host, who quickly whisked us away to a fantastic home-cooked dinner.

We'd be seeing quite a few temples in our near future, so we decided to stick to the more natural sights around Kandy when we set out the next day. We started with a good wander around the gorgeous botanical gardens, circled around the lake in the center of town (saying hi to all the water birds, of course), and cooled ourselves off with a delicious Ceylon-grown iced coffee.

And because our hosts are over-the-top welcoming and generous people, we came back home to a gigantic barbecue they'd specially prepared in honor of their American guests. While we'd loved all the Sri Lankan food we'd tasted so far, we'd be lying if we said we weren't totally pumped to drown ourselves in grilled meats and barbecue sauce.

Getting cultured

Before light the next morning, we bundled ourselves off into the car and headed north to the ancient palaces and temples of Sri Lanka's cultural triangle.

Our first stop was Sigiriya. Also known as the Lion's Rock, this massive palace and onetime capital was built around the end of the 4th century atop a gigantic boulder. We sweatily climbed/jostled the 200m to the top among the masses, passing amazingly well-preserved frescoes and gangs of monkeys on our way.

At the top we were treated to an incredible view and a stunning look at ancient urban planning, but we were feeling pretty done with the crowds for one day.

We decided to skip out on the second leg of the cultural triangle, a massive cave temple with a sea of cars parked outside, and head straight to the more open and remote ruins of Pollonaruwa.

We knew that Pollonaruwa would be large, but once we set foot inside the complex we were floored by the sprawl and scale of this ancient city. We wandered for hours taking photos and couldn't even come close to seeing everything it had to offer. We felt the burn of the afternoon sun on our necks, but we also felt like we'd gotten a good amount of bang for our buck on the entry fee.

And that was before we even ran into the adorable stray puppies that lived inside the park.

Just when we were sure we were going to melt, our incredible driver came beeping up one of the vehicle access road in and rescued us from the jungle heat.

Tea time

We eagerly set off for cooler climes the next day, driving high into the mountainous tea plantations of Hatton. The next few days on one of these plantations would turn out to be idyllic in pretty much every way.

There were the incredible walks each afternoon through the tea fields and the ensuing encounters with effusively friendly locals.

There were the monsoon rains that only came out to impress us with their might once we were safely enjoying dinner on the porch, and stayed away all the brilliant day.

And, of course, there was the tea.

After enjoying an incredible volume and variety of Sri Lanka's finest, we visited one of the Dilmah tea factories to see just how it's made. As we watched the leaves wither, roll, ferment, and almost endlessly sift and grade, we were totally impressed with the complexity involved in making what we'd thought was a relatively straightforward beverage. We'll definitely have a new appreciation for every sip of Yorkshire Gold we enjoy during our Saturday morning Chelsea matches.

We set off for the airport the next day, feeling sad to leave this magical, colorful place. We'd miss the rainbow of chatty locals, the spicy-but-soft reds of the curries, and the marvelous expanses of green countryside dappled with pink and purple flowers. But even with all we'd seen in our 9 days in Sri Lanka, there's plenty waiting for us on our next visit.

Up next

After the briefest of pit stops in Singapore, we're off to find ourselves in Burma.

As we hurtled skyward, a projection on the wall showed us passing the height of the pyramids. Then the Sears Tower. Then the tallest buildings in Asia. Towards the end of our minute long ride there was nothing left that could compare.

Then the elevator slowed from 30 ft/sec to a stop at the 148th floor, 1820 feet up in the air. The spire of the Burj Khalifa continued up another thousand feet from this point, but we had already reached the tallest outdoor observation deck in the tallest building in the world.

We stepped out of the elevator and peered down at endless coastline in either direction. The city below was filled with rival buildings and miniature cars flying down expansive highways. It was an unreal view, an impressive reminder of human potential. The essence of Dubai.

Dubai was once a place primarily funded by oil, but the Dubai you can see today was built on tourism. To support this money-making machine, the Emirate has invested in unimaginably grand tourist sites, massive malls, trade and aviation. Driving down one of the many highways is an impromptu tour of record-setting construction: on the left, a man-made savannah to be filled with African animals and primed for safaris, and on the right, the newest one of eight theme parks.

While there's a very heavy Western influence on most everything in Dubai, you're still reminded every now and then that you're on the Arabian Peninsula. Many people browse the malls in a dishdash or abaya, and there's a very fancy place to buy them next to the Louis Vuitton. When we watched James Bond in the giant laser IMAX theater they had thankfully edited out all the naughty bits. And there's still great shawarma to be found sandwiched between an IHOP and a PF Chang's.

We came to Dubai, in part, to witness this excess firsthand, but most of all we were here to spend time with my Uncle and Aunt, Brocas and Fi, their two children and my Aunt Angela. The kids had been growing like weeds while our backs were turned, and it was great to get to know each of them for the little people they now are.

The youngest, Ruby, commands a dune buggy like she's auditioning for Mad Max.

And Noah, who plays Xbox with devastating precision and heaps of trash talking, has a considerable soft spot for barbecue.

They spent the whole weekend showing us how awesome the expat life in Dubai can be. On our last night, we enjoyed a British Sunday roast in front of the world's tallest building by the world's largest mall while watching the world's biggest water fountain display. The weekend was rife with craziness such as this, but it was exactly the kind of recharge we wanted before launching into the last month of our trip.

Up next

Out of the sand and into the steamy portion of our travels, starting with Sri Lanka!

“You can enjoy one of the many hikes, or for $7, you can spend the day with local shepherds.” These were our options upon reaching the beautiful Dana Biosphere Reserve, and by now you can probably guess what we chose. Why wander the hills alone when you can do the same thing with about 40 goats, two amiable guides and a trusty donkey?

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Before we would join this merry band we had an ancient city to explore.

Petra

Friends told us to go to the park as soon as it opened: 6 am. We were the only ones in line when the ticket window opened and as such had the entire park to ourselves for most of the morning. We did gain a couple companions along the way: a friendly mountain dog, then two more, and eventually picked up enough dogs to count as a bonafide pack before the day was up.

There is a staggering amount of this 500 BC city to see, and we covered most of it during our 10 miles and 6 hours of hiking. The two most intact and impressive structures are the famous Treasury that greets you at the end of a narrow gorge (Siq) and later, the Monastery that you reach after 800 winding steps through the mountain.

The Monastery was a particular highlight for us as we were ambushed by seven friendly cats, the seventh (who we named Mountain Cat 7) being probably the sweetest cat we’ve ever met. I ventured off to take pictures of the Monastery in the hills while Stef tended to her feline herd.

Dana Biosphere Reserve

After Petra, we drove the three hours south and west through the mountains to the Dana Biosphere Reserve and quickly booked our day in the hills with Ahmed & Harun, half-brothers from the area, Arujja the donkey, and about 150 goats.

Goats and donkeys are impressively good at finding the easy path up or down otherwise challenging terrain. While we carefully picked our way behind them, Ahmed & Harun bounded up and down the mountains in their flip flops, singing and lobbing rocks at the distant hillsides as a way of herding the goats from afar.

As is now tradition, the day involved four rounds of building fires for tea, a delicious lunch of cooked up vegetables and a gigantic blanket of flatbread (shirak). Our hosts were incredibly kind. The few times when our conversations broke down due to our lack of Arabic and their limited English, they’d call a third brother on an old Nokia to try and translate.

By the time we returned to the valley floor, we had learned a bit of the craft of herding and left feeling very impressed that the whole group did this much hiking every day.

Amman

On our final day we woke up early to drive to the capital city of Amman and meet up with family friends. The route from Dana took us right up the eastern shore of the Dead Sea, and every few miles we couldn't stop ourselves from pulling over for a long, awestruck look.

As we pulled our rental car into the very cosmopolitan looking section of town we were staying in, it was unbelievable that just hours ago we'd been out in the hills with the guys and their goats. Or that just days before that, we'd been swept up in halls of an ancient civilization lost to the ages. When we'd first set out on our travels, Jordan wasn't even on our radar. But after 9 action-packed days in this magnificent country, it was hard to imagine why we hadn't come sooner.

Up Next

We're skipping over the Arabian Peninsula to the land of skyscrapers and shopping malls. Dubai, here we come!

He pointed at the cigarette burns on the back seat and marked them on his clipboard. Then the scratches, dents and paint chips on the side doors. We processed around the SUV with the Avis agent, pointing and marking until our rental form resembled the scratch paper at a pen store.

This would be our chariot for the next 9 days in Jordan and it was exactly how we wanted it. Renting a pristine, new vehicle means avoiding gravel roads and sticking only to calculated plans. But renting a battle-tested tank riddled with dents and scratches meant we could be a little less wary of contributing our own. We planned to take this car from the southern city of Aqaba north through deserts and up the side of mountains, and this car looked ready.

Aqaba

To get to Aqaba, we first had to cross the border into Jordan at Eilat, Israel. This involved taking a quick taxi, paying an Israel exit fee to get an exit stamp, walking the 100m of no man's land between the two countries (which gives you just long enough to think about how you wish you knew some Arabic), and getting new stamps and a new taxi to Aqaba on the Jordan side.

Once we'd made it to the hotel, we made our way down to one of the beach bars along the Red Sea for a good old Piña Colada. After all, it would be our last taste of something icy before heading out into the hot, dry expanses of Wadi Rum.

Wadi Rum

After driving north from Aqaba, past dozens of roadside stands selling fruit and herds of slowly wandering camels, we met up with Mohammed, our guide for the next three days. We'd organized a tour with him via Bedouin Directions and we were eager to start romping around the desert.

Wadi Rum, also known as the Valley of the Moon, is like a massive sandy playground. The colorful sandstone and granitic pillars surrounded by a sea of ever-shifting sand make for epic vistas in every direction. It's no wonder that many famous movies, from very real stories like Lawrence of Arabia to otherworldly tales like Prometheus and the Martian, were filmed here.

We took about a million photos in Wadi Rum and probably half of them included the jeep. We loved it because of its rugged utility combined with playful rainbow-colored tassels strung all around the inside, but mostly we admired Mohammed's ability to make it surf over sand dunes, climb rocks and barrel down steep hills.

Our first day was a tour de force of many of the Wadi Rum highlights. Mohammad would surf to a stop, make sure we had water and point to where we needed to go. We'd hike a bit, taking as much time as we wanted to appreciate the place, then find him and the truck and set off for the next thing to climb.

Half of the time, we would return to find him with a small fire crackling away and his trusty teapot, pouring us yet another glass of strong, sweet tea—"Bedouin whiskey!" At one of these many stops we had the privilege of seeing him measure out the ingredients for the tea, discovering it was actually almost equal parts water and sugar.

As night fell, we headed back to the camp with Mohammad and met up with a couple of his friends. A few rounds of tea deep into the evening, they started demonstrating some of their favorite Bedouin games that involved a surprising amount of hopping, picking things or people up, and pretty amazing tricks with scarves. Incredibly, it was even sillier than this picture makes it look.

We lost every round, but we still had a good laugh trying.

At bedtime, we dragged our blankets and sleeping mats outside and slept in a sheltered cove with a theater of stars above us. Still riding high on all the wonders of the day (and the many rounds of tea), we restlessly pointed out constellations until far past our bedtime.

While we really enjoyed our tour on day one, we fell in love with Wadi Rum the second day. We started off the day with a hike up Jabal Umm ad Dami, Jordan's tallest mountain, giving us clear views back into Jordan in one direction and down into Saudi Arabia in the other.

After that scramble, Mohammad could just tell we wanted to do more hiking, so he dropped us off in a valley for a little free-form trekking. As he surfed away in the Jeep, we set off on what would be an unforgettably beautiful walk. If it wasn't already magical enough, a couple of sweet, swooping swallows tailed us the whole way, making the occasional acrobatic dive.

On the way back to camp, we stopped for a surprise visit to one of his Bedouin friends out with his flock. A parade of dogs and goats ambushed the vehicle as our jeep pulled up. I set off to take some pics while Stef made introductions.

It was wonderful to let loose and just enjoy the desert with our new friend, not having to run around from sight to sight.

On our final night, Mohammed did the most classically Mohammed thing possible: casually climbing a gigantic sandstone rock with our jeep straight to a nice perch for making tea and taking in one last sunset.

Up Next

We just can't get enough desert! We're heading north to the ancient city of Petra and the Dana Biosphere Reserve.

Looking back on the photos from this section of the trip, we simultaneously thought, "wow!" and, "whoops!" This is going to be a long one. If you read every bit of it, you get a gold star, but we've labeled sections as clearly as we can so you can skip ahead to the things that interest you most.

We pulled into Jerusalem on Shabbat, giving us a chance to get used to the city at its quietest. Our friend Steve from college met us in the twilight to acquaint us with the local shawarma, show us where to get a stiff drink, and get us started with a few tips for our neighborhood.

Outside the old city walls, you could be in a modern city anywhere on earth. The light rail slowly cut its way through the mass of people wandering Jaffa street, street vendors beckoned you in, cell phone stores glowed with their high-tech wares. The only dead giveaways that you might be in Israel were the sea of limestone buildings and the kosher McDonalds up the street.

But once you're inside it, the old city completely transports you.

The Old City in 9 hours or less

The next morning, we started our day exploring the old city with our friend and tour/spirit guide, Shimon, at the magnificent Jaffa gate, passing into the Armenian quarter. This small and independent quarter houses the old city's roughly 500 Armenian Christians. It is also home to the Armenian monastery, which, as we learned from Shimon, you can only enter if you are Armenian. As we shuffled down the streets we marveled at the quiet beauty of this quarter, with residents who were clearly very private with the outside world and very close-knit with each other.

Next, we headed to the Jewish quarter, with its pristine buildings, relatively wide streets, and beautiful hanging gardens. This sparkling facade is the result of the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, when a lot of the Jewish quarter was destroyed. Instead of simply rebuilding the government took advantage of this rare opportunity to excavate for archeological finds and totally redo the blueprint for the quarter, giving each block of homes a number of modern upgrades.

We meandered past the Hurva Synagogue, more popularly known as the "ruined synagogue" because of the amount of times it has been destroyed in its long history, to the southern edge of the Old City. From the top of the hill, you can look down into the excavations of the City of David, the original settlement built by King David. Shimon whipped out his handy binder o' maps to help illustrate how much Jerusalem's boundaries had shifted over the ages, with only the Temple Mount and tiny slivers of the City of David in common for all iterations of the city.

We curved around to pay our respects at the Western Wall, the remaining fortification of the second Jewish temple and the closest place to the Temple Mount where Jews are allowed to pray (in an effort to keep the relatively peaceful status quo). Visitors can slot little notes or written prayers into the cracks in the walls, though we were a little dismayed at seeing the cleanup crew coming through to remove them not long after our neighbors had hopefully jammed their wishes in.

Our tummies growling after all this history and walking, we headed deep into the Muslim quarter to stop at one of Shimon's favorite hummus places, Abu Shukri. We let Shimon do the ordering, as he was practically part of the owner's family by now, and we tried to stay out of the way. The master's work complete, a dizzying array of pickles, pita, hummus, falafel, and searingly hot fries came rushing out of the kitchen.

Once we came up for air, Shimon rushed us off to our next destination. But not before buying us all a piece of baklava for the road.

We climbed up one of the entrances to the Temple Mount to see the Dome of the Rock and Al-Aqsa Mosque, just for a peek. This most contested site is critically important in three major world religions: for Jews, it is the holiest place and the focal point of the First Temple, for Muslims, it is the third holiest place, where the prophet Muhammad was taken on his miraculous Night Journey, for Christians, the role the Second Temple played in the life of Jesus makes the place holy. Unfortunately, with the situation being particularly tense in Jerusalem, we were advised not to go all the way up to the top. But just getting a closer look at the glint of the magnificently gilded dome was a worthwhile stop on our tour.

We headed west through the Muslim quarter, stopping off at one of Shimon's favorite places to further satisfy our sweet tooth. At Zalatimo's, an absolutely no-nonsense family-run pastry cafe for over 200 years and counting, you order one thing, and one thing only: mutabak. You can get it with cheese or nuts and spices, but instead of explaining its mysteries to you, we'll just show you this timelapse of Zalatimo the younger at work with some tasteful jazz accompaniment:

And the final, dreamy product:

We wrapped up our time inside the old city itself with the Christian quarter, heading past the Ethiopian homes to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. In Christian tradition, Jesus died and was laid to rest at this site, so it's a very emotional place to visit. Right as you walk in the door, people are kissing, crying, and laying themselves across a slab of rock where it is believed Jesus' body was placed before taking it into the tomb. The tomb itself is worshipped at by four different sects of Christianity, with each taking their turn to chant prayers and waft frankincense before surrendering their position to the next. Upstairs you can see Golgotha, the place where Jesus was crucified, completely enclosed inside the church walls. All together, it amounts to an incredible and moving sight to behold.

In addition, we learned that during times of Arab control, church bells were not allowed to be rung in Jerusalem. Instead, the clergy would knock on a large plank of wood to summon people to prayers. While it's not certain, many believe that this is the origin of the phrase "knock on wood", as a sort of nod to God's hand in our fate.

We started heading out of the city, but since Shimon and the two of us had been vibe-ing so much on the food he decided to take us through the Mahane Yehuda and show us a few of his favorite stalls. This massive marketplace has all kinds of delectable foods, and overall the quality is very impressive. We tried sesame halva, a common dessert, for the first time, sampled a ridiculous amount of juices, and tried the most sinful chocolate rugelach we've ever laid eyes on. We could have stayed here forever, but at some point we had to let Shimon get back to his real life, so we slowly picked a pathway home in the fading light and said our goodbyes.

We've probably written too long about everything we did in the old city, but in reality it totally skims over everything we covered with Shimon in a single day. He kept us walking, staring, fed, and feeling safe for around 9 hours straight, and we are so thankful we got to spend our day with him.

Yad Vashem

We followed up our busy day in the old city with with an equally ambitious itinerary the next morning. We kicked things off with a visit to Yad Vashem, Israel's memorials to the victims of the Holocaust. While we spent about 3 hours in the Museum alone (and probably could have spent longer if we weren't emotionally spent), the site contains a full research institution and numerous commemorations to specific groups of victims, the righteous among the nations who helped to save Jews, and more. The exhibits within are made all the more hard-hitting by the institution's noble goal: to catalogue as many individual identities and lives as possible. In this mission, they become much more than a decades-old tragedy and a name on a list. Each victim is a story.

The Tower of David

After taking some time to decompress and gather our thoughts, we made for the old city once more to visit the Tower of David. A family friend kindly showed us around the stunning citadel, which was constructed by King Herod and built upon by numerous rulers that followed. We soaked in the beautiful space and caught some gorgeous views over the city at night before settling in for the night show, where the history of the Tower of David is projected onto the walls of the courtyard in amazingly sleek animations. It was a wonderfully graceful meeting of old and new, and we were lucky to see it.

After, we grabbed dinner with a friend, eager to talk through all we'd learned during our time in the city. We'd been so nervous before our arrival—what if it didn't feel safe? What if we'd have to cancel? But after spending a few days with Jerusalem, all we had left in our heads was awe. It is truly a cultural marvel, and we are so glad we were able to keep our plan to visit it.

A slight detour into the West Bank

The next morning we picked up our final rental car for the trip down south through the Negev, a vast desert where some of Israel's first settlers created farming communities called kibbutzes.

But first, we headed north and east through the West Bank to the Jordan River at the site of Jesus' Baptism. We'd done some extensive reading about whether or not this was a good idea, and even though everything we'd seen had said the area right around was totally fine, every few miles we would stop to remark, "Man, this is definitely not something our parents would do."

As soon as you leave Jerusalem on the main highway toward Jericho, it's absolute desolation. I've never seen such dry, empty looking desert. But even in this barren landscape, camel crossing signs abounded; Bedouins were brave enough to call this place home.

We pulled up to the river and hopped out of the car. On either side of the parking lot, fences and signs warned us against wandering: Danger, mines! We scampered up to the Baptism Site, where a very different scene awaited as people sung hymns and dunked themselves into the muddy, warm water. We stepped down to dip our fingers in, sad at the state of the once-mighty River Jordan but enjoying the songs of our neighbors.

The Negev

We hit the road south, stopping briefly to visit Qumran National Park, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered in caves during the early 1950s.

Finally we reached Masada, the site of an ancient hilltop palace that was heroically defended by its Jewish inhabitants until their suicide to avoid capture. The fortress was almost completely isolated from the valley below—that is, before the invention of gondolas.

We took in the sweeping views of the Negev below and listened to the swooping birds whistle out across the vast cliffs. On a clearer day, we're sure you can see for miles and miles, but unfortunately a sandstorm had whipped up from Saudi Arabia and would affect our next two days' touring. Everywhere we went was dusty and difficult to see, but that just meant we had to focus on some slightly closer things.

Our last day in Israel took us down to Eilat and the Red Sea. Beat from all the touring, and wiping the dust from our eyes, we opted to do a little less adventuring and a little more lounging over some incredible seafood and coffee. After all, we had another world to prepare for across the border.

Up next:

We're headed to Jordan to get our Bedouin on, road trip, and learn just enough Arabic to make fools of ourselves!

Our time in Israel was really wonderful, worthwhile, and not at all worrying.

But it can't be denied that Israel is in a particularly rough patch right now, with frequent attacks happening in cities all over the country. We count ourselves as fortunate—being tourists, we were unlikely to be the targets of any attack, and we weren't bound to stay in Israel if things really turned south. While it's a tragic thing, these political, religious, and cultural differences turned violent, we will acknowledge it and move on. It was not something we had to confront firsthand in Israel, and a travel blog isn't going to fix anything in this complicated and tense situation.

The bottom line is this: Israel is an incredible amalgam of very old and very new, unlike any place we've ever been. And it is so worth a visit.

Eating our way through Tel Aviv

We touched down in Tel Aviv, a bit disoriented but thrilled to be starting our time in Israel. Our cab fought its way up the freeway, passing a jungle of shiny new skyscrapers as we neared our Airbnb by the beach.

When we arrived at the apartment, the sun was already on its way down, and we didn't have much of a chance to get a feel for our neighborhood in the light of day. We nervously ventured out to get dinner at a cheap local place that was ranked highly on TripAdvisor.

Once we got in line for our first taste of sabich, a jumble of fried eggplant, eggs, shredded cabbage, hummus, and pickled vegetables of all kinds packed into a pillowy soft pita, our fears seemed completely unfounded. We could easily have been back home in San Francisco, with the helpful people in line explaining the ordering process to us and the gruff but friendly sabich chefs assembling our food at a mile a minute pace. We had planned to retreat back to the apartment with our sabich, but with our newfound confidence in our friendly neighbors we happily scarfed them down at the standing tables nearby, taking in the evening scene.

The next morning, we sat down to big late breakfast of shakshuka and french toast, hoping to tide ourselves over until after our walking tour that afternoon. The shakshuka, a baked egg dish of Tunisian origin and oh-so-delicious, is a staple around Israel, and it also reminded us that we'd only eaten vegetarian for the past day without even trying or feeling at all hungry for meat. While Israel definitely does some fantastic meat dishes (as you'll soon see) we were totally impressed by the range of delicious, satisfying, yet healthy vegetarian options to be had.

We started off our tour of Jaffa, an old Arab city just north of Tel Aviv's center. Jaffa used to have strategic importance as the port for Jerusalem, but as ships grew in size during the industrial era its rocky bay eventually became obsolete. Its beautiful streets still carry an ancient charm, a dramatic shift from the buzzing metropolis just down the coast.

After walking around for a few hours and strolling back to the city center along the beach, we'd worked up a serious appetite for shawarma. We headed straight for Hakosem (or "magician" in English), one of the city's top shawarma spots.

We can't say enough good things about the amazing wraps, which we totally demolished in spite of their gargantuan size. After all, Magician is a pretty bold name choice if you're not serving the best.

Next stop, Nazareth

We picked our rental car up the next morning in the driving rain, eager to get our first look at the Israeli countryside. As we headed north toward the Sea of Galilee, the clouds parted and we could see the beautiful rolling hills around Nazareth, where we'd be making our first stop.

If you remember from the Bible, Nazareth is the town where Jesus and his family spent the first 30ish years of his life before he started preaching. There are a ton of gorgeous churches in town, some built to commemorate real-life locations which were important in Jesus' life, such as Joseph's carpenter shop. Amazingly, a lot of these places have begun archeological excavations underneath their foundation and actually found some of the churches' namesakes below.

We strolled around the Basilica of the Annunciation, a massive cathedral built at the place where Mary received God's plan for her to be the mother of Christ. It was fantastically beautiful, decorated with artwork commissioned from dozens of countries to depict the Annunciation in their own signature style.

And, of course, we ate. We'd read amazing things about a Palestinian restaurant up one of the little alleys in Nazareth, but we were wholly unprepared for the experience of eating at Dewan al-Saraya Old City Abu Ashraf. We snaked our way up through tiny streets, past cagey little kitty cats and souks with smiling ladies taking a break from the heat of the day, to arrive at Abu Ashraf's curio-packed wonder of a restaurant.

After hummus, pita, a simple salad of mint, cucumber, and tomatoes, and some life-changingly good shawarma heavily scented with allspice, we were on to the main event: Qatayef. They're little dumplings filled with unsalted goat cheese or nuts and spices, fried carefully in a special grill with wells reminiscent of a shallow ebelskiver pan, and smothered in geranium syrup. Pure heaven.

Not long after we sat down, we noticed a writeup about our chef in an english-speaking paper affixed proudly to his wall, where he was quoted as saying, "If God is good, he will let me die making Qatayef. That's how much I love this work."

North to Galilee

Full of sights and shawarma, we continued on to Safed, an artist colony and summer getaway close to the Sea of Galilee. We used the town as our base, venturing down to the shore to visit Capernaum, the Mount of Beatitudes, and the site of the miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fish, all critical places in early Christian tradition.

Whether you're a believer or not, there's something really special and inspiring about visiting a place that carries such importance for millions and millions of people. And on a more secular note, the Sea itself is also amazing in that it is a beautiful, life-sustaining freshwater lake in the middle of the desert.

On our way out of town, we decided we should probably be getting a little workout in along with all that pita, so we climbed the hills above the Sea of Galilee in Arbel National Park. Even on what was a slightly hazy day, the views of the Sea and Golan Heights beyond were incredible.

When we'd finally had enough of this exercise business, we hustled our way back into the car, eager to get started on the journey to Jerusalem.

Up Next:

We're off to visit the Old City, with all its charm and complexity, then heading to the real deserts of Israel.

We've finally come to the end of our winding path through Europe. We ate so many good things, met so many wonderful people, experienced a huge range of European cultures and traditions, and spent some quality time with family during our nearly 3 months traveling here. We wouldn't trade it, but we are excited and energized for what's next.

But first...

Of course, per usual, we couldn't just leave Europe without a small tribute to the furry(ish) friends we met along the way. Here are the European critters we'll miss:

Peeking pony babe (Iceland)

"That's all you've got for snacks?" sheep (Norway)

Itty bitty mediterranean paddle creatures (France)

Dog casually running this town (Italy)

Cow running from Mac's love (Swiss Alps)

Cow that dreams of the day he can leave the herd and just...hike (Mont Blanc)

Horse that just wants to party, but doesn't realize how big and scary his head can be (Oktoberfest)

Artsy kitties (Slovenia)

Glorious dog food commercial pup (Croatia)

1890s Le Chat Noir poster cat (Serbia)

Hungry red goulash monster (Budapest)

Up Next:

On to the Middle East! We touch down first in Tel Aviv.

A few quick days in Budapest gave us just enough time to meander our way along both banks of the Danube and gear up for the next action-packed leg of our trip. The current city was established in 1873 from the combination of the towns of Buda and Pest, and over the next three days we would venture to both sides to experience their very different personalities.

Follow the leader

Our day started with Pest, the more yuppie Eastern side of the city. We thought we'd join up with a free walking tour to get a better idea of the history, but after one too many cheesy jokes and "local legends" about this statue or that, we decided to break off and do our own thing.

Plus, the tour was all set to skip these cinnamon chimney cakes (Kürtóskalács), and we just couldn't bear that idea.

We strolled back home through Pest's lively streets and market stalls selling mulled wine, just starting to feel the crispness of fall.

Touring, our way

The next morning, we set out on a massive loop from Pest to Buda and back, taking in the serene grandeur of the palaces and cathedrals atop Buda's castle hill.

When we'd finally shut our gaping jaws, we crossed the river for one last time at Margaret Bridge, finishing our loop at Parliament around the lunchtime rush.

Through the hordes of tourists clogging the lobby, we could see that the next English tour wouldn't be offered until late in the afternoon. Unflappable, although not confident about absorbing anything from a tour in Russian, we headed for a local café to pass the time. We relished the opportunity to try goulash, a classic Hungarian stew, and threw back a few hard ciders for good measure.

When we arrived back at Parliament, the scene had calmed down quite a bit. But we hadn't.

We took ridiculous pictures of ourselves all around the marvelously beautiful building. Well, except for the heavily-fortified room containing the Hungarian Crown Jewels. You wouldn't want to try any funny business in there, with its two-meter mandatory safe zone and guards wielding sharp rapiers.

A little relaxation

After all the walking and touring we were ready to unwind, so we caught a bus to one of Budapest's famous Turkish baths. Along with paprika and coffee, the Ottomans left their love of a good soak behind after their roughly 100 year occupation.

There are dozens of thermal pool complexes in Budapest, and each has a certain reputation among locals: the hipster one, the tourist one, the one where the rich old ladies go to gossip, etc. We chose Széchenyi, the largest, for our first dip, as its eighteen different pools allow you to Goldilocks your way to the one that's just the right temperature.

While most locals post up at a pool for the entire day, we took our pruny selves home after just a few hours of soaking. We could have stayed and relaxed in this spicy, friendly city much longer than our three day stopover allowed, but we had to start prepping for our next adventure.

Up Next:

Our first foray into the Middle East begins in Israel!

By now, you've probably heard a thing or two about the European Migrant Crisis. While it's much more tense now in light of the recent tragedy in Paris, a few weeks ago we had more or less assumed that it wouldn't affect our travel plans. The vast majority of these folks are just regular people trying to get out of a bad situation back home.

But then, the numbers started skyrocketing and the southern European countries began to buckle under the strain of hundreds of thousands passing through their borders. One by one, panicked measures were being put in place to contain the stream of humanity. A mere three days before we planned to head from Croatia to Hungary via train, the Hungarian land border was closed.

We surveyed our options with the little time we had left in Croatia. On the one hand, we could stick to our original plan to take the train and hope that the situation had improved by the time we reached the border. On the other hand, Air Serbia was offering a cheap flight to Budapest that connected in Belgrade with a 7 hour layover. Excited for this unexpected detour, we pounced.

Wheels down in Serbia

Our layover would give us just enough time to get a classic Balkan lunch and a comprehensive walking tour of the city. We hopped off the plane and hitched a cab to start sinking our teeth into Belgrade.

Almost every meal in Serbia involves two things: generous cuts of meat (chicken and fish are considered vegetables) and paprika, thanks to a lengthy Ottoman occupation. We scanned around some menus in the city center and found a place where we could dig in to some sausage, pork loin, and skewers below the swirling cigarette smoke of the regulars.

Out on the town

After mopping up the last of our heavy lunch, we set off to meet up with a walking tour and learn a little bit more about the city. On our way, we were struck by the stark simplicity of the communist-era buildings.

As our tour guide would explain it, “all roads lead through Belgrade.” The city's advantageous position, on the way to several different imperial cities and at the junction of the Danube and Sava rivers, made it irresistible to invading armies. Belgrade changed hands so frequently over its long history and was damaged so badly in these exchanges of power that it was almost completely rebuilt an incredible 44 times.

This meant that instead of the parade of neogothic churches and old monuments we'd seen in other major European cities, our tour would consist more of an oral history as we strolled past modern buildings and relics of communist rule under the former Yugoslavia.

But for all the austerity of its architecture, Belgrade isn't without its cultural quirks. We made our way through the Bohemian neighborhood of Skadarlija, past dozens of Kavarnas hoping to entice us with their food, strong turkish coffees, and fruity rakija (Serbia's most popular booze). As we passed through the streets, we noticed a street sign posting the distance to other Bohemian neighborhoods such as Montmartre and Grinzing, but oddly enough it also included the moon. Apparently, Serbians think it's a pretty hoppin' place.

We kept on walking through the now-quiet and respectful streets where Serbian mobsters once received their kickbacks under communist rule and continued on to the Fortress. This massive area perched on a hill is surrounded by the original city wall and contains remnants of its many owners over the centuries in its layers and layers of fortification.

Refreshingly, instead of being closed off to anyone but ticket-holding tourists, it's a popular public spot for locals to hang out for the afternoon. We stood next to other Serbs on the old city walls and looked out at the meeting of the rivers Danube and Sava, then passed a couple of basketball and tennis courts which seemed so welcomely out of place in this ancient monument.

The tour concluded with a discussion of Serbian pride in its athletes next to the oldest basketball hoop in the city. And they are seriously proud. All over town, you can find the Serbian Basketball team plastered on nationalistic posters. Even the slightest mention of Belgrade’s native son, Novak Djokovic, will win you loads of points with your Serbian pals in the Kavarna.

Back on track

The sun was starting to set and our departure time approached. Our guide was kind enough to call us a taxi to the airport so we were quickly whisked away, excited to head to our third country in a single day.

We definitely hadn't started our week with a visit to Serbia on our to-do list. But after our trip threw us a curve-ball, she was there for us with a smile, time for a lovely walk, and a giant plate of meat: the best kind of friend to have.

Up next:

We're wrapping up Europe with a stop in beautiful Budapest!

Warning: Croatia's another one of those places that's almost too good to be true: a vacation within a vacation. Sunny photos ahead.

After a day or two of catching up on travel planning back in Slovenia, it was time to make the trip south to meet up with our next visitor: my mom. We boarded a train from Ljubljana to Zagreb, then caught a quick flight to Dubrovnik. My mom had a little farther to travel, coming all the way from Boise, but we all three were determined to make a great first day of it in this gorgeous country. We loaded up the rental car and made for our new home in the hills above Dubrovnik.

King's Landing

Dubrovnik is sometimes called "The Pearl of the Adriatic", and it's easy to see why. To a degree unlike any city we've been to yet, Dubrovnik has restored its old city to its former gothic renaissance beauty each time buildings have been destroyed instead of simply rebuilding in the current style. It is jaw-droppingly beautiful to behold.

It's also probably why the Game of Thrones series decided to use it as the setting for Kings Landing, and it's what makes it such a popular tourist destination today. If you can shut out the gelato stands and the occasional selfie-stick sighting, walking among its streets will give you the feeling of being transported to another time.

We walked the old city walls after lunch, looking for an even better way to enjoy the city. The circuit gave us a little much-needed exercise, plus a look at its stunning architecture and its ruggedly gorgeous coastline at the same time. But by late afternoon, we had found the best way of all to enjoy Dubrovnik—a little bar perched just outside the wall, and right above the lovely Adriatic Sea.

You've decided to ford the river

After a few idyllic days in Dubrovnik, we bundled off in the rental car and geared up for the long drive/ferry to Hvar island. The forecast didn't look promising for our voyage, but if we could just make it out there, the next few days were predicted to be lovely. Determined to keep our plans, we pressed on.

Photo by Cindy

We started the drive in what looked like a bit of rain, but once we made it to the coastal highway it became clear we were actually in the middle of a flash flood. Nick's courageous driving kept us going past waterfalls, fallen rocks, and roads that were more river than pavement.

Naturally, we took a break from the tempest to sample the offerings at Saint Hills winery. Here, we learned more about the Plavac Mali grape, which is the primary red varietal grown in Croatia. If you can manage to find some in a wine shop, any bottle from the Dingač region (the premier terroir for this grape) is definitely worth a try.

We eventually reached a patch of sun and prayed that the ferry would still be operating. After about an hour of waiting, speculating, and watching some fearsome lightning strikes, we finally got the go-ahead to board and let out a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, we could look forward to deliciously warm and sunny days on Hvar. We spent the next few days boating around the Paklinski islands, hiking up to the fortress perched above the town, tasting wine, and staring dreamily at the Adriatic.

Road tripping

A little more tan and a lot more relaxed after four days on island time, we began our long drive North to Zadar. We decided to break up the coastal views a little bit along the way, heading inland for some forest and waterfalls at Krka National Park.

We rolled into the park and hopped out of the car, only to find that the charming little waterfalls advertised in the pamphlet were now roaring maelstroms of water after the heavy rains we'd previously driven in. Unfortunately, this also meant that most of the boardwalks and trails were closed, so we could only view the main waterfalls from the fortifications around the visitor center. They were impressive, if not a bit frightening—the water looked ready to jump its retaining wall and inundate the snack bar at any moment.

We scurried out of harm's way and off into the lovely arms of Zadar, a beautiful little port town with a buzzing old city center and the too-weird-to-resist Sea Organ. We spent almost an hour listening to its hauntingly rhythmic sound and contemplating our lives, wondering what kind of acid trip would lead a person to summon the idea for a Sea Organ in the first place. It was a fantastic place to come and ponder.

At long last, we managed to tear ourselves away with the prospect of some first-rate blood orange gelato.

Going out with a bang

The next morning, we decided to try our luck at national parks again and made our way to Plitvice, a fantastically gorgeous network of crystalline waterfalls and lakes. Parts of this park were closed as well, but we managed to sneak onto some of the less sunken boardwalks for a closer look at the powerful conditions.

And, of course, we couldn't let my mom go back home without squeezing in one more wine tasting session. We wound through the hills of Plešivica until we eventually found the beautiful family-owned Vinarija Korak. The winemaker took us on a lengthy tour of his work, which featured a fantastic Pinot Noir, a complex Chardonnay, a classically fruity Plavac Mali, and a luscious, jammy Syrah.

We pulled ourselves together and finally made it into Zagreb around nightfall. My mom would fly off the next morning, but we wandered the streets after dinner determined to see some of the sights before then so she'd at least have a feel for Zagreb. We spent almost an hour walking past Zagreb Cathedral, winding our way up the hill to St. Mark's Church, and enjoying the warming glow of the old city's kerosene street lamps.

We took Mom to the airport early the next morning and officially ended our time as hosts on this trip with a good long nap. When we awoke from hibernation, Nick and I took off on a walking tour of the city to fill in the historical gaps from our stroll the night before, no less amazed by all that we saw in the daylight.

Up Next

Mom heads home to Idaho, leaving us with an overabundance of wine and one less thirsty traveler to enjoy it with. We're taking an unexpected jaunt next door to Serbia!

We coaxed our rental car through an impossibly skinny gate and finally pulled up to our apartment in Ljubljana. Night had already fallen on the city. The streets were dark and mostly deserted around our place, and we had that disorienting feeling of flying blind in our new neighborhood. Unsure of what we'd find at this hour, or even what we'd find in this country, we headed to the bar next door and asked if they knew of anyplace that would still be open for dinner.

We were stunned when they pointed us to a Mexican place across the square, with a distinctly Cafe Olé vibe and a beamingly nice host/server who spoke perfect English. Just when you're feeling like you're alone in an exotic location, like nothing could possibly be "normal" here in a former Yugoslav country, Slovenia comfortingly pats you on the back and hands you some sizzlin' fajitas. And while most of our experiences were decidedly more Slovenian than our late-night cantina stop, we would be met with this same warm, welcoming attitude wherever we went.

Lovely Ljubljana

Once we'd woken up and gotten some coffee at one of Ljubljana's oldest kavarnas, bumping elbows with some cute old ladies clearly in the middle of a first rate gossip session in Slovenian, it was time to get out and explore. We had just one day to spend in Ljubljana before pressing on to Slovenia's Jeruzalem wine region, so we made the most of it with a walking tour around the city's pedestrian center.

We were dazzled by the gorgeous buildings and lengthy history, but we were even more impressed with some of the more modern expressions of the city's culture, such as Metelkova. Seized by rebellious members of the community and squatted in since 1993, these former barracks are a colorful center of arts, music, and culture for the more progressive in Slovenian society. We wandered around and snapped a few photos before hopping in the car for the roughly 3 hour drive to Maribor.

Winding through the vines

As fate would have it, however, we were delayed by an insatiable hunger of the donut variety. Just off the highway to Maribor lies Trojane, a famous pastry mecca that our next Airbnb host tipped us off about. We'd like to say that we split one of the gigantic, hamburger-bun-sized, slightly warm, pillowy soft, peach-marmalade-filled beauties among the three of us, but then we'd be lying.

Our car sitting a little bit lower on its suspension, we pulled into Maribor in the early evening and prepared for our full day of wine tasting tomorrow.

The wine in this region is not particularly famed on a global scale, as much of it is sweeter than western european palates would prefer. Christine really hit the nail on the head, describing one as tasting like the juice that comes with canned peaches.

But not all producers are afraid to experiment with some dry and sparkling vintages, and we had an incredible tasting with our friend Damien at Horvat Wines. We particularly loved their subtle chardonnay and forthcoming brut, which he let us try by opening upside-down in a salad bowl filled with water, since it hadn't yet been corked. The whole shebang felt just like we were at the place of a good friend showing us their homebrew. Magical.

And, of course, the countryside was absolutely gorgeous, with the wine route snaking among rolling hills covered in vineyards and beautiful old buildings dotted in the distance. We might have gotten a little caught off guard by the loveliness of this place, but fortunately we found some folding chairs to regain our composure while we sipped.

Lake Bled

Our next stop took us north (and past the donut shop one last time) to the misty hills around Lake Bled, where we settled into our apartment and planned the rest of our time in town around the impending bad weather. Since the next day would certainly be rainy, we decided to save the main attraction for sunnier times and do the short hike up Vintgar Gorge instead.

While we weren't sure about braving the rain, our spirits got a big boost once we laid eyes on the shockingly blue, crystal-clear water—clear enough that we could easily pick out trout swimming against the current as we walked along the trail.

After another short hike the next morning, we made our way to the lake shore to take some of our newly bought wine and salami out for a spin. As there are no motors allowed on Lake Bled, we rented a fantastic little rowboat to get a closer look at the island, and its church, in the center of the lake. The sun was shining, our oarsman Nick was doing all the hard work, and while we probably weren't supposed to have wine bottles and other glass on board, it was a extra-nice touch on an already rosy day. Plus, once you're out there, it's pretty much maritime law.

A slight detour

We hit the road once again for Kobarid, a tiny town on the edge of the Julian Alps. Along the way, the Soča river trails the highway for miles, and we had to pull over a few times out of sheer disbelief. What is UP with that water!?

We thought that the gorge had been impressive, but clearly we hadn't seen anything yet. The icy, listerine-hued Soča had us completely spellbound.

When we finally arrived in Kobarid, the rain started to come down in sheets. What's more, the weather looked grim for next two days. While I tried to figure out what short hikes we could manage in the inclement conditions, Christine and Nick started looking for places we might be able to day-trip to that were predicting sun.

At some point in our brainstorm, we started to realize that things we would have previously considered crazy were somehow feasible in Slovenia, this crossroads of a nation. Care to drive up to Salzburg? That'll be three hours. How about a jaunt over the border to Italy? A mere 20 minutes. Finally, Christine spied a big, friendly-looking sun in the weather forecast for Venice, and with only a two hour drive to get there, we were sold. The next morning, we bid farewell to our understanding host to spend one luxurious day on the canals.

Leaving us with a smile

We had a hard time saying goodbye to Venice in the morning, but had we known that Mini Venice would be waiting for us at the end of our day's travels we would have cheered right up. Once we set our bags down, we fired up Wikipedia and learned that Piran was once a Venetian outpost, so a lot of the buildings in town have that characteristic architectural style we'd come to love.

We spent a long afternoon the next day soaking it all up over a cocktail or several in the main square.

What Piran lacks in canals, it makes up for with its unbelievably friendly, quirky, classically Slovenian inhabitants. They've got a way about them that makes all your anxiety about traveling in a foreign country melt away. Our waiters snuck up on Christine and scared her (much to Nick's and my glee), our gelato scoopers admitted they'd guessed we would come back while we shamelessly ordered our second helping of the day, and a burly man was sent over to us with open hands and a big grin when we asked for a shellfish cracker.

The Slovenian tourism board likes to point out that theirs is the only country with "love" right in the name, but after our incredible week we can say with confidence that they really do back it up.

Up next

Goodbye Christine! We're drying off the tears and heading south to comb the coastline of Croatia with my Mom, Cindy.