Category Archives: BS outside the Midwest

Boots and a bump: Nashville trip recap

Hey y’all. (Please read that in your best Tami Taylor drawl.) I got back from Nashville last night and wanted to give you a recap in case you have plans to visit Music City sometime soon. Me, waiting for my 6 a.m. flight:

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My high school ladyfriends and I try to reconnect for an annual spring break trip when possible, and this year we chose NashVegas. Although the weather didn’t exactly cooperate (it was 18 degrees colder than average for this time of year, and rainy), we still had a good time and made some funny memories, which is what it’s all about, right?

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Staying put and getting around: We stayed in the Midtown/West End area, which is walkable to downtown — especially in daylight. Just remember it’s downhill on the way there and uphill on the way back. We stayed at the Aloft, which was unfortunately under construction during our visit and doesn’t have a pool, but there are plenty of other hotels in the area that could be nice and affordable. (We walked past Union Station on our way downtown and stopped in the lobby — if you’re looking to spend more for a romantic getaway, maybe, that’s a swank and historic spot.)

Instead of renting a car, we decided to do a combo of cabbing it, walking and purchasing a day bus pass ($5.25). We definitely got our money’s worth out of the day bus pass, although it may have made us a little too ambitious. The cab ride to the airport is a flat $25, even though it’s only about 10 minutes from downtown, but the bus also stops there.

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Sightseeing: When we arrived, we walked around the Vanderbilt campus, which is gorgeous – filled with Magnolia trees and close to cute independent shops in Hillsboro Village. We rode the bus out to Belle Meade Plantation for a tour (totally scored a Groupon discount!), which ends in their little wine tasting room. On a nice day, this would be a great place to bring a picnic and hang out on the grounds. We went to the Frist Center for the Visual Arts for a culture fix, too. If you’re looking to do tons of daytime activities, the Music City Total Access Pass ($50 for four attractions) might be a good option. We weren’t super ambitious on this front due to weather and apathy toward country music iconography, but I went to a wedding at the Cheekwood Botanical Garden a few years ago and had it been sunshiney totally would have tried to go back.

Dining: We whiffed it with our first dinner at Cabana. It was chock full of bachelorette parties and the food wasn’t anything to write home about. Not worth the hype, although when I was there a few years ago for another Nashville wedding, I remember it being better. We had lunch at Urban Flats in The Gulch, which is supposed to be Nashville’s up-and-coming neighborhood and is also a wine bar. It was good, but in retrospect we should have gone to nearby Whiskey Kitchen, which I’ve heard rave reviews about. We tried to have dinner on Nashville’s East side, which is apparently supposed to have more of a hipster vibe, but got off the bus at a sketchy spot and abandoned that plan. Instead we stumbled upon Fat Bottom Brewing, which was my favorite from the trip although also a slight torture because I couldn’t sample the goods.

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OK, I had one sip of their red and it was amazing. There was a live band out in the beer garden, really cool decor and we shared a cheese plate and beverages while we plotted our next move. We had some good luncharitas (virgin Strawberry daquari for me) at Chuy’s near our hotel. Apparently it’s a chain, but they did a good job keeping the freshly made chip baskets overflowing.

Our last night, we had dinner in the street-level Merchants bistro downtown.

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Their classic black-an-white decor was a beautiful contrast to the neon of Broadway. They have a solid classic cocktail menu and delicious peach cobbler dessert, too. Breakfast our last morning was at the famous Pancake Pantry. We waited half an hour in the cold to get a table, but you have to love a sweet stack. (I kind of wish we’d gotten lunch up the street at Fido at some point, because I once had an amazing salad there.)

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The main drag: Spring break in Nashville was bustling, despite the weather. The first place we stopped in was Rippy’s to watch some March Madness and eat onion rings. There may be photographic evidence of a mid-afternoon drunk best man from a bachelor party pulling me out of my seat to dance to live music. My humongous belly made everyone in the place laugh.  We enjoyed karaoke at Lonnie’s Western Room (karaoke in Nashville is for serious singers) and hung out at Tootsies on our last night. (The band kept asking for a “holler and a swoller,” which I thought was hilarious.

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There is a constant stream of live music that spills into the streets. We didn’t exactly shut the bars down any of the nights, which was just fine by me! I love that my friends and I graduated 10 years ago and still enjoy traveling together. The Nashville trip was a fun last fling before the baby this spring.

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Fit for a Prince

Although I do have a girl crush on Kate Middleton (secretly hoping Royal Baby and my JamJam Jellyroll will someday be married), the Union Jack inspired quilt I finally finished isn’t for her progeny. It’s for a baby boy named London, the son of Joe’s best friend Jimmy and his wife.

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I got it all washed (because washing a quilt for the first time is terrifying, so I decided to take that leap for them) and ready to ship out just a few weeks into little London’s life, and with a little bit of time to spare before opening day. As not to be too British, I backed it with baseball fabric, since Joe and Jimmy are both huge Cubs fans.

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I pieced the red and white strips and then appliqued them to the blue background, and I’m happy with how everything turned out. Measuring isn’t my friend.

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I looked at several Union Jack quilt patterns, but I ultimately decided to wing it. Quiltspiration:

Union Jack quilt inspiration from Etsy
I Heart London Quilt Pattern

I wish I was the kind of quilter who could put together a tutorial, but my haphazard try-it, then fix-it approach doesn’t really lend itself to step-by-steps. I pieced together the red and white strips and folded the edges and appliqued them to the blue background. (Technically, the red strips should run together to make a true cross shape. Whoops!) I cut the baseball backing to size, then I quilted triangles in the spaces between the diagonals.

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I am the world’s worst binder, so although I probably could have done this in a weekend, I cursed at it and left it crumpled in a corner for awhile. My quilts look decent from a distance, so you won’t see too many close-ups.

***

Days like these, when the gray sky and ground bleed into greener and bluer hues remind me of the months I lived in London, the winter semester of my Junior year during study abroad. I walked so much that spring (walking places = discovery), and enjoyed solitary adventures and outings with friends.

I remember spending a crisp afternoon by myself in Holland Park, and it was glorious. Each park has such personality.
High tea at the Dorchester with my best girl is a favorite fancy memory.
The Victoria & Albert Museum is a must-see, and the Churchill War Rooms are quite fabulous, too. (But ALL of the museums in London are pretty great!)
Shopping and snacking along the Portobello Road Market – so full of colour (spelled the British way, of course.)

2006, London, waiting for the organ recital at Westminster Abbey

2006, London, waiting for the organ recital at Westminster Abbey

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Chicago to Savannah: Family Road Trip Recap

My mom turned 60 the week of Thanksgiving, and so my brother, Kevin, and I decided that we would plan a family vacation — something we really hadn’t done in the better part of a decade — to celebrate. I love to give people experiences instead of stuff. This vacation was a chance to be in the moment (I barely glanced at e-mail all week), give back as adults and create some great memories with the fam. It was awesome to include Joe in a family event less emotionally fraught than wedding planning, too. Grab a mug of tea for a recap with all the details!

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We chose Savannah because we were interested in going somewhere that would be warmish in late fall, that had sightseeing potential (but wasn’t super cheesy touristy) and since my mom had always talked of visiting neighboring Hilton Head and Savannah is the birthplace of Girl Scouts, it felt like the right fit. I’m so glad we made this our destination! We had just the right amount of time to explore, and the city was super easy to navigate. And Spanish moss. Everywhere.

Kevin and I wanted to cover most of the trip expenses because, let’s be real – it’s not much of a present if you’re like “Yay! We’re taking you on a vacation! Now buy your $500 plane ticket!” but we’re on a budget and so we started to look into driving the nearly 1,000 miles there. I got a pretty sweet deal on a Ford Escape by calling and pre-paying with Avis (unlimited miles) and we listed all four adults as drivers for the 14+ hour trek. Kevin is a consultant who has a ridiculous stash of Marriott points and gets government hotel rates, so he hooked us up with lodging. Of course, we downloaded Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil audiobook and listened to part of it on the way there.

Day 1: Chicago to Asheville, NC. With a spontaneous pit stop at a fried chicken place worthy of a historical marker.

We decided to get the long drive out of the way first, stopping at a rest area for a picnic lunch and then making a spur-of-the-moment decision to visit the original KFC/Colonel Sanders Cafe in Kentucky, which was just goofy and random enough to make us feel like we were on a genuine road trip.

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We stayed at the Grand Bohemian in Asheville, which was pretty luxe (thanks, Kev!) and right outside the Biltmore Estate. The hotel sent up champagne and snacks to help toast my mom, since we’d set out on her actual birthday, and we were able to get a late dinner of awesome burgers at the Village Wayside, a short walk down the street. (It was tempting to go to the fanciest McDonalds and Hardees we’d ever seen, but I’m glad we stuck to local flavor!)

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We got up early and headed to the Biltmore for a tour of one of the country’s oldest and most opulent privately owned residences. I assumed it was owned by a nonprofit Foundation, a la Des Moines’ Salisbury House, but not so. Tickets are pricey, plus you could pay an extra $10-20 for an audio or guided tour. But the grounds and home are a marvel and my mom really wanted to go. We started in the gardens and then wound our way through the two-hour self-guided house tour. We scoped out downtown Asheville quickly, “fueling up” at Asheville Brewing Co. before we hit the road. Note: Planning a trip through Asheville and Savannah while pregnant and unable to partake in the alcoholic beverages is a mild form of torture.

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Savannah suggestions?

We’re going to be road-tripping from Chicago to Savannah this fall (with stops in Asheville and Hilton Head) to celebrate my mom’s 60th Birthday.

Of course we’ll be making a pilgrimage to the Birthplace of Girl Scouts! On the year of the 100th anniversary, no less.

I’ve been checking out these darling “Local’s guide to visiting Savannah” posts from Note to Self, but if you have suggestions for any of our stops, let me know!

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NYC afternoon

This week capped off what’s felt like my year of conferences with a trip to NYC!

I got to meet Eugene Lang, who founded the “I Have a Dream” Foundation 30 years ago, and got a taste of city life last week during the organization’s national staff conference.

We stayed in the NYU dorms (which were huge and had great views!) and our days were packed with group workshops and activities, but I had a few chances to break from the pack and this is what I did:

Thursday morning I went with a couple of people to start the day at Yoga to the People off St. Marks with a power yoga class that was for all ability levels and featured a sound track that brought me back to my college days. (“Into the Mystic” and “Hallelujah” were part of the playlist.) I don’t do yoga very often, but now I’m inspired to fit it in on a much more regular basis. I spent the rest of the conference sore, which is a definite sign I need to get myself in shape!

Our workshops overlooked Washington Square Park, where I stole a few moments to read our TEDxDesMoines book club pick. (Our meeting is Aug. 15, so you have time to read it, too.)

After the sessions were over, I scooted down to Purl Soho and did a little damage fabric shopping. It was exciting to actually be in one of the magical places that I only experience via the blogosphere. Plus, there was a 20% off everything sale going on!

Saturday was a free day; I just needed to be back to the dorms in time for a 3:30 p.m. airport shuttle pickup. I didn’t do much research in advance or really make any plans, but I ended up being able to meet my friend and former London flatmate Maggie at Westville in the East Village for brunch, which was delicious and lovely despite the fact that I kept accidentally flinging my silverware at the people who were at the table next to us. (Teeny tables really close to each other.)

Then I went on a solo excursion to the High Line. My Parks and Rec friend Teva had recommended I check it out, which I remembered after looking up Joanna Goddard’s NYC afternoon NYC Guide recommendations. I knew I could count on Cup of Jo to steer me in the right direction! The High Line is a converted above ground rail line that’s now a (free-to-access) park with great wildflower landscaping, art, food trucks and views! I can imagine it would be even more amazing at sunset, and when you’re not lugging a heavy purse and a carry on:

I did the whole 1.45 mile length, then doubled back to the start and walked there from the East Village, so I earned a cucumber lime popsicle, right?

I lounged on the sky lawn, stopped to smell the flowers and was super excited to see this art by former TED prize winner JR along the way.

It felt so great to walk in the sunshine and keep my eyes and mind open. Thankfully, I made it back to Des Moines last night after a nail-biter of a tight layover and got a seat next to some awesome strangers who might even put together a fundraiser for “I Have a Dream”!

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Des Moines and Doha

Sometimes, in a strange place, it’s the similarities that stand out. There are so many facets of my TEDx Summit experience that deserve separate posts, but I wanted to highlight a few commonalities between cities that struck me.

I tried to leave for Doha without expectations — open to all of the potential experiences and people I’d encounter. Still, a part of me was a tiny bit nervous to travel to the Middle East and convene with a bunch of community change agents under a dome that had literally red Xs all over it, if you know what I mean. I needn’t have given my safety much of a second thought.

Photo: James Duncan Davidson via the TEDxSummit Flickr galleries: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tedxevents/with/6948533866/

From the moment we touched down in Qatar, the red carpet was rolled out for us TEDx-ers. Regardless of nationality or creed, we were hosted in a 5-star hotel and shown the sights of Doha, the capital city, with day trips to the less developed corners of the country bookmarking our workshop days.

Kayak trip in the mangroves in Northern Qatar

Even during our ‘Desert Day’, I couldn’t help but think of it at a Bedouin-style Living History Farms

Downtown Doha was a commotion of cranes, as the city builds out and up, thanks in large part to an influx of wealth from oil. The TED Prize theme is The City 2.0, so it was especially interesting to be hosted in a city that, as Alexander put it, is still writing its story.

I suppose if I had any expectations at all, it was to see lots of street vendors and the kind of scrappy transportation I’d seen in pictures from places like China. Instead, it was almost more like West Des Moines — lots of SUVs and roundabouts and chain stores from Europe and the U.S. Which isn’t to say there isn’t any culture. As the soccer stadiums and convention centers go up, Qatar’s leadership is making an effort to embrace modern design and architecture, and to create places for the arts.

Spider sculpture at Karata, in Doha

Most of our events were at the Katara Cultural Village, where I squealed with delight to see a Louise Bourgeois Spider sculpture similar to the one we have in the Pappajohn Sculpture Park in the Western Gateway of Des Moines. There was a whole Bourgeois exhibit there!

Toasting a new group of friends at the Souq

The hotspot for nightlife (Qatar is a mostly dry country) is the Souq Waqif, which does feel a bit like a Disney-fied Middle Eastern Market. This was the spot to smoke shisha, eat chicken shawarma, share tea and soak in a sense of atmosphere with the city lights twinkling around.

If you want to drink, many of the fancier hotels have a liquor license. We had access to the club at the W hotel, although apparently we just missed Kanye West, who was supposedly in town to film a music video and/or check out the jaw-droppingly awesome Murakami Exhibit.

At the Murakami Ego Exhibition

(I may have missed Kanye, but I did get to meet up with a long lost friend from college who’s been living and working in the region.)

Museum of Islamic Art

Another great artistic connection came with the fabulous Museum of Islamic Art, which was designed by I.M. Pei. Our own Des Moines Art Center has a modern wing designed by the renowned architect, too! (The staff at our Art Center was kind enough to send me with a poster inscribed with a sweet note for the Doha museum directors, which I presented like a little art ambassador. I think they were confused/delighted by the gesture.) Explore the Museum yourself thanks to the Google Art Project: http://www.googleartproject.com/collection/the-museum-of-islamic-art-qatar/museumview/

The MIA was extremely impressive and the well-curated, sleek space was a good foil to the Sheikh Faisal Bin Qassim Al Thani Museum, which was one of the strangest I’ve ever seen. It was massive, with collection upon collection opening up from room to room, so you’re looking at fossils and then clothes from the region and then weapons and art and cars and planes, all laid out with very little context. I think if there’s a Night at the Museum III, this would have to be the setting. We were all a bit snarky about it’s layout, but then I remembered some of my travels to small towns in Iowa where people would set up storefront displays of “primitives,” as the sweet and now departed museum owner Darwin Linn in Villisca used to call his antiques.

At night, we’d look out from our bus windows to see families strolling around Doha’s Corniche, a waterfront pedestrian walkway that reminded me of families doing the loop around Gray’s Lake. On the last day, we had lunch at a delightful modern pavillion along the water, which reminded me of  the “Hub Spot” taking shape along the Principal Riverwalk here.

I met and heard people speak who were putting on TEDx events all over the world — everywhere from Birmingham, UK, to Baghdad, Iraq, to Brazil. But I also met a great group of people from the Midwest who were just as inspiring.

Breakfast with Alice, the co-organizer of TEDxFulbright. She grew up in Indianola, Iowa!

The last night, we were finally able to meet up with a woman named Ebaa who grew up and lives in Qatar, but who went to the University of Iowa with a friend of ours in Des Moines. She treated us to a feast at an Egyptian restaurant in Katara and we talked about places like Cedar Rapids between lively singalongs by a Fez-wearing band that was playing at tables.  Finding connections like that was the perfect closing experience that underscored how small this world can be.

I enjoyed my trip to Doha; it made me realize how proud I am of Des Moines!

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Back in the Midwest!

Jet-lag hasn’t yet set in after a nearly 24-hour return trip from Middle East back to the Midwest.

In one of the "unconference" session tents

Much more on the experience later, but this “Why We Travel” essay shared by one of my new TEDxSummit friends resonated.

So travel, for many of us, is a quest for not just the unknown, but the unknowing; I, at least, travel in search of an innocent eye that can return me to a more innocent self. I tend to believe more abroad than I do at home (which, though treacherous again, can at least help me to extend my vision), and I tend to be more easily excited abroad, and even kinder. And since no one I meet can “place” me — no one can fix me in my rsum –I can remake myself for better, as well as, of course, for worse (if travel is notoriously a cradle for false identities, it can also, at its best, be a crucible for truer ones). In this way, travel can be a kind of monasticism on the move: On the road, we often live more simply (even when staying in a luxury hotel), with no more possessions than we can carry, and surrendering ourselves to chance.

TEDxSummit, 16 April - 20 April, 2012. Doha, Qatar. Photo: James Duncan Davidson.

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Smiling into the wind

Early Friday morning, I’m bound for an adventure I never expected, chased after or planned for. In a few short days, I’ll be standing in a desert, surrounded by some of the brightest, most inspired strangers I never thought I’d meet. If all goes as the itinerary outlines, I’ll be engaged in workshops and explore art museums and lean into the warmth of a camel and cruise on the sea in a region I know only by news reports of unrest. In the coming days, I will undoubtedly travel beyond my comfort zone and I’m welcoming the opportunity to unbridle my imagination and ride it to the edge of the world. I’m excited and anxious and blissfully free of expectations.

The theme for the opening night talks is “The Power of Reframing.” It looks like you might be able to watch the stream, too!

I’m sure I’ll have lots to share when I get back. Until then, I hope the winds are fair here and there!

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So glad I had a passport handy

When I graduated high school, my goal in life was to become a writer for National Geographic. To travel the world and write about all of the interesting people I met and places I visited. My grandpa keeps stacks and stacks of the saffron-bordered magazines in the attic (or “cold room” as we call it), and as a little girl, I would spend hours after school and in summers reading about the brain or an ancient civilization or specie of whale.

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I still remember the night my freshman year at Mizzou when my college roommate and I went to see a group of National Geographic photographers (including the amazing Sam Abell) speak. I was captivated. To be in the same room with the people who achieved my dream was a rush — the intellectual high I’d hoped to get in college. After the lecture, I remember literally running through the columns on the quad and back to our dorm with hardcover photo books tucked under our arms.

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I also remember the stories the photographers told about how long their assignments were and what that meant to their families. And gradually, the dream shifted for me. I still love to travel and my nine-year-old passport is tattooed with stamps (thanks, Girl Scouts!), but I came to realize that the nomadic life wasn’t for me.

There are so many breathtaking destinations and fascinating cultures and I am interested in seeing as much of this planet as I can. But I also started to appreciate the fact that all of the world’s interesting places exist because there are people who commit to them and keep them alive.

At one time, I was convinced that the only way to uncover life’s meaning was to stand in a headwind at earth’s rugged edges. That the only way to be a writer was to get out of Dodge. I still believe that when we put ourselves in unfamiliar, uncomfortable situations — and to travel is to embrace this — we come to a better understanding of ourselves. But I don’t know if I’m convinced that essential truths are only caught after a cross-continental chase.

I’ve written a lot about Des Moines becoming home to me and choosing to be part of a community. I write about my house and the friends I’ve made here and sometimes I feel like — for the people who knew me back when I was a high school travel-writer wannabee — these moments read like I gave up, or settled. Perhaps I’ll spend the rest of my writing life trying to put into words what it feels like to make roots like these. Maybe I’ll never get it right. Or maybe I’ll write a novel instead.

Then this week I had the most exciting news. Just as I’ve felt like things are beginning to settle down (I’m convinced the water here in Iowa has some sort of baby-producing boosting agent), I got the most amazing e-mail. I will be heading to Doha, Qatar as a TEDxSummit attendee along with my friend, Alexander. I couldn’t be more excited for this unexpected adventure. It’s the perfect mix of being able to see a place I’d never even imagined in my girlhood National Geographic dreams, and taking part in a global event meant to enhance my community back at home.

I (along with a small group of talented people) helped Alexander put together the last TEDxDesMoines event (something I wasn’t going to be able to work on if I’d stayed in journalism at the paper), but I definitely don’t feel worthy of this opportunity. I’ll keep you all updated and hopefully will post from Doha this April!

This opportunity is something I feel I never would have had living in a bigger city. It’s one more reason to love Des Moines. I’m still pinching myself that it’s real!

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Remembering the Camino

A few months ago, “The Way” was playing at our neighborhood indie theater, The Varsity. (It’s the kind of place that doesn’t even show previews.) Joe and I went to see it partially because, after I studied abroad in London in 2006, I went to Spain and hiked the section of the El Camino de Santiago pilgrimage trail between Leon and Santiago de Compostela, and partially because we love “The West Wing” and Martin Sheen. Although I hiked about 180 miles, my portion of the trip only made a brief cameo in the movie, which should be out on DVD soon.

My high school friend Greg and his mom are planning on hiking el Camino this summer, and so I had the occasion to pull out my travel journal from the trip more than once these past few weeks and retrace my steps in my memory.

I must remember to always write a travel journal – although the things I recorded from this trip (silly dogs I saw in towns, funny conversations) aren’t very practical when it comes to sharing tips with others. I remember having wanted to hike the Camino since I was a young teenager, after I read wacky Shirley MacLaine’s book in which she makes the pilgrimage and (if I recall correctly) has several out-of-body experiences. I was very much embodied on my journey (as heel blisters reminded me), but there’s definitely something magical about pursuing a path that was established many centuries before. Peregrinos (pilgrims/hikers) get stamps in a passport along the way, meet people from all over the world, travel until you’re too tired and experience the Celtic Galician culture, which is different than what comes to mind when most people think of Spain.

I’m at my happiest when I’m just walking, plain and simple, seeing the world at a plodding pace. I’m not a skilled map-reader, so the more well-worn the path, the better. I walked to work today, in this spring-feeling weather, and even that simple little trek set my day on a more pleasant trajectory. In a way, walking is an art. It’s a meditation. It’s getting comfortable with the way your body and your mind move together. Now I sound like Shirley MacLaine!

I need to discover more favorite walks in Des Moines. I think perhaps Joe and I will go for a little hometown hike this weekend!

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