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Waking up early for a morning yoga class at the newly renovated Miramonte Resort and Spa, I was blessed to see one of the most spectacular sunrises in the Coachella Valley. The sky was an artists palette of magenta silhouetting Palm trees with splashes of purple, pink, orange and yellow hues. Located two hours from Los Angeles between Palm Desert and La Quinta is one of the wealthiest zip codes in the desert. The city attracts a lot of executive retirees looking for a resort lifestyle of playing golf coupled with world class entertainment. Families flock to see the BNP Paribas Tennis Open at the Tennis Garden showcasing some of the top tennis talent. Foodies enjoy the nearby Palm Desert Food and Wine Festival and people of all ages come out to hear musical acts at the Coachella Valley Music Festival. Before or after attending one of these events, The…
Cruising on Windstar’s Wind Surf ship, we anchored off the coast of St. Lucia at Rodney Bay one morning. The ship’s tenders brought passenger to the shores of Pigeon Island for a day of beach activities and a festive barbecue lunch right on the beach. St. Lucia has changed domination fourteen times, due to its lovely coves, turquoise clear water and Pitons that are dramatic volcanic pyramids. The first settlement was in the 1550s by a French explorer named Jambe de Bois (Wooden Leg). He would raid passing Spanish Galleons sailing by the island located between Martinique and St. Vincent. Today, this island offers an array of activities for Windstar guests. One of the first activities I participated in was a yoga class on the lawn near the beach. We placed our yoga mats under towering trees. As we started warming up, I heard waves gently crashing nearby and birds…
We are sweaty, packed tightly on the crammed bus. Bodies against bodies, sweat drips down our head and necks. Babies are passed from neighbors to friends. We stare out at the dusty ground as each movement vibrates through our bodies. Another world. Emerging to winding streets we are relieved. The sunset casts an orange glow. Traders shout to each other comparing their sales and readying themselves for an evening of trade. The smell of incense is thick in the air. We pass the famous granite carvings. We will explore them later on our trip but even at a glance they make an impression. Impossible to believe they are so old, beautifully carved elephants and an array of vivid scenes. We make our way into the main town, which is not so big, but has a distinct charged energy. Beachside stalls, hippy cafes and hostels. It isn’t hard to see why…
In the honking morass that is Ahmedabad, India, two retreats Sabarmati Ashram “Mr. Gandhi will find it takes more than a pinch of salt to bring down the British Empire.” So declared the Viceroy of India, in John Gielgud’s mellifluous tones. Whether a screenwriter’s conceit or not, one can trace the beginnings of this symbolic ‘pinch’ in Gujarat’s hectic capital. In its turbulent sea of chaos and cows, the sub-continent can be trying even while it fascinates and by visiting Ahmedabad I was jumping in with both feet. “Ahmedabad is not for tourists really,” my hotel manager told me. “There’s only industries.” Well, his industries are enjoying a boom these days and the city streets manage, even by Indian standards, to ratchet up the cacophony (the Central Railway Station was a hectare of insanity I shall never forget). By the second day I needed to escape it, but misread my…
14th August Near Keflavík International Airport The dynamic geology of Iceland is intriguing. We drive along the perimeter of this volcanic island in a semi-circle: from Keflavík to Höfn along Route 1. We hope our geological time travel will reveal some events in Earth’s history. We are confounded. We are awed. We are humbled. Nature has her way with us. 15th August Off Route 1 near the village of Kirkjubæjarklauster The mist hangs low, thick, gray casting an eerie glow over the Laki Lava fields that stretch before us. The damp moss is avocado green, soft, pillowy; we leap and bounce nimbly like the winged creatures in a fantasy movie. Otherworldly. On 8th June 1783, the sun had shone brightly on this very pastureland, lush with livestock and wildflowers. When the Reverend Jón Steingrímsson stepped out to deliver his Sunday sermon, he heard a loud crack and noticed a black…
Friday, 01 January 2016
Nirvana’s Horizon: Discovering the Soul of the Golden Land as a Buddhist Monk in Myanmar
Written by Kevin Dimetres
The reflection in the mirror was virtually unrecognizable; the spelling of my name remained obscure; what might happen next had become a perpetual mystery. Before I could make sense of it all, burgundy-robed monks whisked me away, up a dusty spiral staircase, to their secluded 5th floor rooftop. With endearing fervor, the monks excitedly pulled out their smartphones, gathered around me as a group, and began snapping selfies, with me, against the backdrop of the Yangon skyline. Had I stumbled down the rabbit hole, only to arrive in Myanmar? I peered over the ledge to the chaos of once-familiar city life below; I became as dizzy as the moment was surreal. I saw none of this coming, yet it was all going exactly as planned. No guidebooks, no tour agencies, no beaten path; I promised myself this trip would be original. Long removed from my days as a wide-eyed tourist,…
It was one of those special moments you remember forever! It was the reason we travel. It happened at the Angkor complex of temples and ruins in Cambodia. We had bicycled from our hotel in nearby Siam Reap to the Angkor sites. It started as a mild, cloudy day, but by the time we arrived it was hot and humid, and we fought to stay hydrated the rest of the day. It was our second day of exploring the complex at Angkor. We had saved three special temples for today. First up was the most popular temple in the complex -- Angkor Wat. It was very crowded and spectacular -- with five gigantic spires, and very sacred. It's the largest and holiest of the temples and we sat outside and talked to a guide who explained a little about Buddhist beliefs and customs. There are 37 steps to the top…
Since I have moved back to New York, I have felt a little lost and disconnected. It takes an adjustment to move and then to move yet again- even if the final territory is familiar. In an effort to make some positive changes in a somewhat muddled and distracted state, I signed up for a weekend retreat. It was easy enough to make reservations for the Yoga and Hiking Weekend at Mohican Outdoor Center. I received my online confirmation and my informational packet. I packed the suggested items on their list in preparation for the upcoming activities and possible weather conditions. No list could have prepared me for that weekend. In hindsight, it is pretty funny. People go to far flung monasteries in Tibet in search of a spiritual awakening. I stumbled upon it in Jersey of all places with no such intentions at all. I am no yogini but…
Mt. Sunday is not one of New Zealand’s Great Walks and the only reason its in most guide books is due to its association with Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. However, there is something magical in store for those who go there. After what seems like an eternity on the underdeveloped access road, the glory that surrounds Mt. Sunday begins to peek over the horizon. Further and further you drive down the rabbit hole until finally the sign for Mt. Sunday appears. You breathe the fresh air and with the bang of a car door you are transported to a scene that is hard to believe still exists in this hectic world. It resembles every story and every fantasy you had as a child. This is where your imagination would take you as you played in your back yard and quickly that same innocence is brought back. At Mt.…
I opened my inbox one day to find an email with a peculiar subject line. "Congratulations, you have won a trip to Anamaya Yoga Retreat in Sunny Costa Rica". I promptly deleted it, but a nagging feeling prompted me to retrieve that email and read it thoroughly to be sure it was, in fact, just another scam. Four months later, I boarded a plane for San Jose, Costa Rica and onto the small Pacific Coast village of Montezuma where I would learn an important lesson in life and in living it to the fullest. There wasn’t much going on at Anamaya Yoga Retreat on my 4th day in Montezuma. I had gotten into the routine of waking early and watching the sunrise, reading in the hammock, taking a dip in the infinity pool and checking emails all before breakfast was served; so on this day, I decided to break the…
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Wednesday, 30 October 2013
Reflections and Connections at a Bootcamp Retreat in Tulum, Mexico
Written by Alexandra Kahn
My grandmother came from a half Mexican background, which became very apparent as the family members filed in to her funeral. My short, tan, black haired relatives had piled in their cars and carpooled from Southern California to Las Vegas to honor their loved one, originally named Claire Alcantara. I marveled at my diverse family as they spoke quickly in Spanish and made my 5'2 (5'5 with my heels on) frame seem simply gigantic. I felt silly not knowing the language that bonded my family members and made me feel like the outsider white girl. My grandmother, and the only grandparent I had left, had just passed away from ovarian cancer and our close relationship made her passing very hard on me. To make matters worse, my mother's sister had recently been diagnosed with a rare cancer of the stomach. Suffice it to say, emotions were running wild. When my…
Dress warmly. Start in Christchurch and drive south to Queenstown in a crappy car that has trouble getting into second gear. Stop at the ethereal blue Lake Tekapo, and Aoraki Mount Cook—New Zealand’s highest mountain. Take frequent breaks in front of undulating meadows specked in yellowed sheep to smoke cigarettes in the low light. Remind yourself this is Lord of the Rings territory: Look for hobbits among the vast, green sweeping mountains and jagged crags. Observe ice-green glacial rivers incise a place along the bottom of formidable ravines. Sigh audibly and often. Stop the car somewhere on the side of the road. Think: “No one in the world knows exactly where we are right now.” Sit in the warm car reeking of cigarettes, and listen to dated rap with a hoodie pulled up snug over your head. Be without movement, just for a moment, and watch the daytime moon, grey…
When I caught my first view of the Ganges from atop a flight of stone steps, I wanted it to be beautiful. It was the holy Ganga—stuff of myth and ritual, purifier of sin, compassionate mother to all India, source of life for a half billion people. But all I saw was pollution, a film of grime that covered everything in sight. The river was opaque, toxic brown, an urban color. The flat gray sky had no blue for the water to reflect. Weak daylight disappeared into darkness at the river’s surface, making it impossible to tell its depth. Clusters of trash lapped at its banks. Steve and I had arrived in Varanasi two hours earlier, on the 8:00 am train. Now, at mid-morning, the heat and moisture of the late July day smothered my body. Sweat ran down my legs underneath my long skirt and pooled in my sandals…
The Indian state of Himachal Pradesh has many wonders enveloped within the young fold mountains that traverse through its heart and one of those exquisite wonders is the alpine valley of Spiti. Situated at an average elevation of 12,000 feet above sea level, this cold desert is home to the snow leopard, Himalayan blue sheep and few of the toughest people on the planet who inhabit this dry, barren snow covered land and wear the warmest smiles on their faces. Maybe this was the reason that made Rudyard Kipling define Spiti as a ‘world within a world’ befitted for the Gods and Gods alone. Spiti was a part of lesser Tibet in the 10th century and shares its eastern border with the Tibet Autonomous Region. Some of the nuances of the Tibetan culture and Tibetan Buddhism that are being sadly brushed off the face of Tibet have found a warm womb…
H.H. Dalai Lama once said, ’To conquer oneself is a greater victory than to conquer thousands in a battle’; and this evidently was the sole aim of every soul floating around the ‘UNESCO World Heritage Site’ of the Mahabodhi Temple [Bodh Gaya, Bihar] during the Kalachakra initiation. Kalachakra is a Sanskrit term used in Tantric Buddhism that translates as ‘wheel of time’. The term is mutually used for the deity as well as the teachings and as the name clearly suggests, the ritual and practices revolve around the concept of time and life cycles – cycle of the cosmos, the turning of the planets known as the ‘External Kalachakra’, cycle of our breath or ‘prana’ known as the ‘Internal Kalachakra and the cycle of ‘kala’ or time itself that moves generations by spinning the wheel known as the ‘Alternative Kalachakra’. The aim of the teachings is to re-connect the soul…
I wouldn’t call the Japanese stoic, nor is their culture especially passive, but the country’s reputation for acceptance of things as they are, rather than as they might be, has led to many cultural misunderstandings between Japan and the west. Much of this has to do with long suffering implicit in a Shinto-infused outlook on life. Simply put, this is a striving for perfection knowing that it cannot be reached, always falling short, and in this creative process establishing a richly symbolic duality. The Japanese aesthetic has a vision of how things ought to look and their best art is as much about what is missing as what’s seen.This is one reason why it is so spellbinding to travel to Japan and why it has inspired Western writers and artists--such as Roland Barthes, Angela Carter, Henry Moore--who appreciate the tangle of signs and silences, the way nature in Japan is felt intuitively…
Friday, 30 July 2010
Stripping Down to Basics at Olympic Spa & Retreat, L.A.
Written by Rachael Repoff
People always say that Los Angeles changes you, but I’m not sure that’s completely true. I lived in L.A. for five years and, other than a few shots of Botox, I never drank the L.A. Kool-Aid. Now, whenever I go back to Los Angeles, my first stop is an obscure, hidden gem: the Olympic Spa and Retreat. I’m using the term “spa” loosely, as it’s designed to resemble a traditional Korean bathhouse.
The northernmost point a tourist can visit in India is in the village of Panamik, in the Nubra Valley in Ladakh. We have just driven three kilometres further. There is a festival going on in Ladakh and everybody is drunk. Even the policemen who work at the checkpoint did not bother to show up for work today, so we happily drove past Panamik and arrived in another village three kilometres further north. Here, a group of merrily drunk local men quickly gather around the Royal Enfield motorbike we’re traveling on and invite us to join the festivities. However, the owner of what seems to be the only shop in the village thinks we should turn back — it is a sensitive border area and we’ll be in trouble for coming here.
Somewhere between dreaming and waking, the birds' songs infiltrate. Before my mind can construct its reality, the world wraps itself around me and enters deeply – stretching from never into forever.
Friday, 11 September 2009
Deepak Chopra Shares His Secrets for Transformation at Kripalu
Written by Rachael Repoff
I Drove from Boston to the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts filled with excitement and anticipation; I finally arrived at Kripalu, a well-known center for yoga and health. I was attending a three-day intensive yoga retreat combined with a four-part lecture series given by Bestselling author, New Age guru, and pioneer of mind-body health, Dr. Deepak Chopra. I Drove from Boston to the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts filled with excitement and anticipation; I finally arrived at Kripalu, a well-known center for yoga and health. I was attending a three-day intensive yoga retreat combined with a four-part lecture series given by Bestselling author, New Age guru, and pioneer of mind-body health, Dr. Deepak Chopra. Three hundred people were confirmed to attend the weekend retreat, I was fortunate to get one of the last spots before they sold out. I would be sleeping with 21 other women in a large room with no…
Nine more hours to go. ...Ugh! It may as well have been nine more days as far as my comfort level was concerned. I was on my way home from a three week trip to Syria and the flight back seemed like it was lasting forever. Stuck between my burly friend and a hairy, middle-aged man who had yet to learn about the wonders of deodorant, my options to kill time were severely limited. Both had figured out a way to sleep vertically leaving my attempts at conversation at a standstill. I wish I could’ve joined them but in all my years traveling, I’ve never managed to contort myself to the proper angle in a plane seat to maintain comfortable sleep. The only way I’ve ever guessed it was possible was to lean on the shoulder of a flight mate. I wasn’t too keen on having the right side of…
Paz Y Luz in Pisac, Peru is a healing retreat located near the Urumbamba River and surrounded by mountains. It is close to town and also relatively close to the Incan ruins on the mountainside, overlooking Pisac and the whole valley.
Having spent three nights amid the chaos of Hanoi, we were looking forward to some relaxation on the peaceful waters of Halong Bay. After a quick breakfast with Ben, our travel companion and friend from college, we met our guide Cuong who would be escorting us on our roughly three and a half hour journey east to the coast. While we had spent the past three days dodging Hanoi’s notorious traffic on foot, we gained a new appreciation of the “anything goes” approach of Vietnam’s roadways as our van inched its way out of the city. Crossing the Red River — we left Hanoi behind, yet even as our view changed to rice paddies, we could not escape the constant honking from all manner of vehicles.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
Lake Atitlan, Guatemala: from Bohemian San Pedro to Yoga at San Marcos
Written by Nicola Perides
Nestled in the temperate mountainous region of the Western Highlands, Lake Atitlan is a haven for locals and tourists alike. Being only a two and half hour drive from Guatemala’s capital, Guatemala City, and popular colonial town of Antigua, makes Lake Atitlan a very accessible destination. The winning combination of being 15 degrees above the equator and 1,560 meters above sea level makes it the ideal climate - not too hot and never too cold! The sun shines throughout the year, even during the rainy season.
The silence in the small chapel was both welcoming and intimidating. It was late afternoon on a weekday in Paris and gusts of wind swept a spring drizzle into the faces of shoppers. They scurried for cover, cutting through bumper-to-bumper traffic. It is forbidden to use the car horn in the French capital, but motorists were still doing so: one even beat the side of his car with a clenched fist and shouted something about acting like an imbecile.
Monday, 05 May 2008
The Pilgrims Place: Le Chemin de Saint Jacques de Compostelle
Written by Cameron Karsten
I came to Le Puy after being inspired by a book written by Paulo Coelho entitled The Pilgrimage, which chronicles the author’s mystical quest along The Way of Saint James (Le Chemin de Saint Jacques de Compostelle) or El Camino a Santiago de Compostella – its commonly referred-to Spanish equivalent. This lengthy pilgrimage from France across the Pyréneés and traversing Spain is rough, challenging, cultural, and it is isolation from the external world for le pelerin (the pilgrim).
Willka T'ika is much more than a hotel and retreat center. It is a truly magical place set in the sacred valley of Peru. The accommodations, living spaces and conference rooms are scattered throughout the property amidst incredible gardens. This place is truly a botanist’s dream. Each garden is completely unique with different plant species in a variety of colors. There are seven main gardens, each centered on a separate chakra: moon, sacred sun, sacred earth, sacred water, Lucuma, Spiral and sound. Many beautiful varieties of flowers that attract hummingbirds in great numbers.
Situated on one of the most brilliant beaches I’ve seen on the Yucatan peninsula, this eco-resort offers a relaxing retreat. If you are searching for a place to really unwind, practice yoga daily, receive some spa treatments, and lounge on the beach, this may be your place.
Locals and historians alike say that Varanasi (formerly Banaras, under the British Raj) is India’s oldest city. Though not as densely populated as other thriving Indian locales, Varanasi nevertheless remains one of its most affecting destinations. For, it is not only India’s oldest city, but also one of the nation’s holiest. Situated in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh, en route to Kolkata from Delhi, Varanasi rests at the mouth of the holy Ganges River—the Ganga (G-On-ga), a Hindu goddess whose very essence is the river itself. Furthermore, Varanasi is the site whereupon generations of Hindus have gathered to immolate their dead, sending them upon the river’s potent waters perched on a burning raft at daybreak and dusk; the river has absorbed the ashes, and the mystique, of the deceased.
Wednesday, 24 October 2007
Amma's World Tour and Amritapuri Ashram
Written by Christina Kay Bolton
Years ago I ended up on a river boat in Kerala – India’s ‘Venice’ – and disembarked in Amritapuri to find Amma’s Ashram. I was traveling through India visiting various Ashrams without knowing much about the gurus beforehand. I visited Sai Baba who could change water to gold, the spiritual community of Auroville and the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in the southeast, and Osho’s Ashram near Pune. The guru I felt most connected to in the end was Amma (Mother).
Friday, 10 August 2007
The Spiritual Experience of Machu Picchu
Written by Thomas Lera and Sandra Fitzgerald
At the end of the 15th century, the secluded Inca citadel of Machu Picchu was a vibrant city still being carved into the Andean peaks flanking the Urubamba River canyon. Over 200 buildings already provided housing, temples and storage facilities for the city's 1,200 residents. Vast tracts of land had been terraced for farming. Within just 27 years, more than half of Machu Picchu’s Incan population became infected with small pox and died. The citadel fell into disuse, and, quickly enveloped in dense vegetation, became motionless, frozen in time.
Coming from a Southeast Asian country myself, I find it difficult to think of any destination in Asia as “exotic” or completely removed from what I know. The intermingling of cultures in our corner of the world is so beautifully prevalent that, standing on a busy sidewalk in the humid tropical weather of Bangkok, with car horns blaring and vendors displaying their wares, I almost fancied myself back home in my native Manila. The familiarity of Thailand and its warm, welcoming atmosphere was altogether comforting.
Thursday, 12 April 2007
Enlightenment through Osmosis, The Dalai Lama's Teachings in India
Written by Lisa McCallum
“My Tibetan’s a bit rusty. I’m having a hard time following what he’s talking about,” I whisper to Aisha, one of the people I came here with. She smiles and nods, but doesn’t really laugh. It’s meant to be funny. I, however, am an anomaly in this audience: I am an American backpacker who ended up traveling to McLeod-Ganj, the home of the Dalai Lama, to escape the harassment of the rest of North India.
If you are looking for a quiet, beautiful, and inspiring retreat, I would suggest Wisdom House in Litchfield, Connecticut. Wisdom House was once a convent for the Daughters of Wisdom. Still run by the order, it has been transformed into a peaceful retreat center where individuals or groups can come and stay.
It was the end of the June when I packed my knapsack to leave for Crimea, Ukraine. The knapsack was about to burst open because of my sleeping-bag, tent, and a percussion drum (I still don’t understand what evil forces made me pack it). It was my fiancé who told me we had a chance to get into an annual international conference of ‘YOGA’ magazine.
It's another humid daybreak in June in the city of Pula on the north-west coast of the Croatian Adriatic. The sun is about to rise above the silhouette of a city that only seems silent and sleepy. A motor ship is leaving the port, headed about 300 miles to the south. Its final destination: National Park Krka River, whose best-known natural landmark is Skradinski Buk.
The adventure began with a phone call to the tour office asking whether we should bring lunch along on the five-hour hike, and a nonchalant response: “we advise against that because of bear danger” – a statement that made me decidedly nervous.
Panacea de Montana, a yoga retreat in the northwest of Costa Rica on the Pacific coast, was a fabulous place to forget about the Boston winter. My husband and I felt like we were staying with friends at a luxurious outdoor camp. Three gloriously gentle and aware individuals run it, each bringing something different to our visit. Debbie, Mary, and Peter have created a no-fuss, no-pressure yoga retreat in a restful rural setting and are great at accommodating guest requests. I was so relaxed by the end of this retreat that just breathing felt like deep meditation.
Hollyhock was a delicious break on a journey through fjords, gardens, & forests. It took forever to get there, but it was worth it! Hollyhock is on an island and to get to that island by car from the mainland you need to take at least three ferries. The first ferry is to Vancouver Island, then a drive to Campbell River, then a ferry to Quadra island, a drive across it, and yet another ferry to Cortes island where Hollyhock resides. There is nothing quick about this journey, but going by ferry seems like a nice prelude to the retreat. There is nothing to do but watch the superb landscapes slowly pass by, your car tucked
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