Tag: #wanderlust

Travel Story: Part III—When the World Came to Vancouver ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry11 Comments

Beforeword: I recently traveled home to Canada and visited Vancouver, British Columbia. The trip was epic. I intended to publish it as one seamless feature with subheadings. But it turned out to be quite substantive. Instead it is presented in three parts but written as a single story. You’re invited to read all three as the seamless feature it’s intended to be.

Start here👉 Part I: Vancouver—Where Nature Takes Centre Stage

Followed by 👉Part II: Vancouver—Beyond the Skyline

As if Vancouver itself wasn’t lively enough, my visit coincided with one of the biggest sporting events on the planet—FIFA World Cup 2026—that made the vibe electric!

Truth be told, I don’t follow football.

But that turned out not to matter in the slightest.

You didn’t need to know the offside rule, the tournament standings or the names of the star players to become caught up in the excitement. The energy was simply too infectious to resist.

One of my favourite discoveries was pairing good food with good football.

An afternoon at Cactus Club Café in Coal Harbour became the perfect example. Perched along the waterfront, the restaurant offered panoramic views of Burrard Inlet, floatplanes taking off from the harbour, and the North Shore Mountains rising in the distance. It was quintessential Vancouver—excellent food served against a spectacular natural backdrop.

Then, just outside, another spectacle was unfolding.

CTV—Canada’s largest privately or commercially owned network—had transformed the nearby plaza into its Crave Fan Zone, broadcasting live throughout the tournament, also using the North Shore Mountains for its backdrop.

Television cameras swept across the crowds while commentators analysed the day’s matches only metres away. Every few minutes, fans erupted into cheers, waving flags, banners and scarves in the hope of catching a few seconds of television fame.

From my hotel I was also able to bask in the World Cup excitement.

Located on the route to the BC Place Stadium, I found myself at the centre of the action. Team buses passed by under police escort, greeted by cheering supporters lining the streets. And poo-up post-game street rallies.

This was unlike anything I had experienced before—the excited chants of fans, rhythmic drumming, whistles, the unmistakable drone of the occasional vuvuzela, and even the wail of police sirens became part of one continuous soundtrack.

On match days, the city transformed.

Hours before kick-off, supporters flooded the streets dressed head to toe in their national colours. Colombian yellow, Argentine blue and white, Swiss red, Belgian red and black—it felt as though the world’s flags had come alive and taken over Vancouver’s sidewalks.

Restaurants overflowed.

Pubs filled long before the opening whistle.

Strangers became teammates for ninety minutes. I joined the singing, celebrated the goals and embraced the shared joy that sport has a unique ability to create.

BC Place hosted World Cup

Vancouver hosted seven FIFA World Cup games. I was there for two — USA vs Belgium and Columbia vs Switzerland.

Inside and around BC Place, the organisation was remarkable.

Hundreds of volunteers welcomed visitors with genuine warmth, patiently answering questions, directing crowds and ensuring everything flowed smoothly.

Security was visible without feeling intrusive. Mounted police calmly patrolled alongside officers on foot, all of whom somehow still found time to smile for thumbs-up photographs.

Yet beyond the football itself, something else caught my attention.

Canadian pride

Perhaps it was the significance of hosting one of the world’s largest sporting events. Perhaps it was the geopolitical climate that made us Canadians even more eager to celebrate national identity. Whatever the reason, there was a confidence and patriotism that felt different.

Maple Leaf flags fluttered from balconies, businesses and lamp posts. Oversized football sculptures and giant player installations became favourite photo stops throughout the city. Everywhere I looked, signs proudly declared:

“The World is Watching.”

And Canada was ready. Not with boasts or extravagance. Instead, it welcomed the world in a way that felt unmistakably Canadian—with warmth, efficiency, inclusiveness and quiet confidence.

That, more than anything, became my lasting impression of Vancouver.

Earlier in the week I had stood beneath towering cedars, crossed a swaying suspension bridge, watched salmon fight their way upstream and found myself face to face with grizzly bears.

Now I was watching hundreds of thousands of people from every corner of the globe gather peacefully to celebrate a shared love of sport in a country I call home.

Both experiences revealed: British Columbia has found a way to embrace modernity without surrendering the natural world that surrounds it. Canada, in much the same way, has built a nation that strives to celebrate diversity without losing its own identity.

In a world where strength is too often measured by volume, dominance or displays of power, Canada offered a different lesson:

  • Its strength is quieter. It’s found in civility over confrontation.
  • It embraces openness over exclusion.
  • It protects nature while embracing progress.
  • It welcomed the world without forgetting the people and landscapes that came first.

As I left Vancouver, I had never been prouder to carry my Canadian passport. The occasion of the World Cup gave Vancouver the chance to represent Canada, and it did so magnificently.

2026 All Rights Reserved

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club, Facebook & Bluesky.

💡 Only WordPress.com members can hit the “Like” button, but everyone’s welcome to share their thoughts in the comments. Thanks!

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Vancouver Part II—Beyond the Skyline ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry3 Comments

Beforeword: I recently traveled home to Canada and visited Vancouver, British Columbia. The trip was epic. I intended to publish it as one seamless feature with subheadings. But it turned out to be quite substantive. Instead it is presented in three parts but written as a single story. You’re invited to read all three as the seamless feature it’s intended to be.

Start here 👉Part I: Vancouver—Where Nature Takes Centre Stage

Leaving downtown behind, I discovered another side of Vancouver.

The city impresses with its waterfront, neighbourhoods and skyline, but crossing Burrard Inlet into North Vancouver reveals why British Columbia is consistently ranked among the most beautiful places in the world.

To explore it, I once again stepped away from the conventional tourist route. Instead of boarding a hop-on, hop-off bus, I joined a small group sightseeing tour. It turned out to be one of the best decisions of the trip. The smaller vehicle created a more intimate experience, allowed our guide the flexibility to tailor the day to our interests and reached places larger coaches simply couldn’t.

Our first stop was Cleveland Dam.

Standing 300 feet high, the massive concrete structure stretches across the Capilano River, creating one of Metro Vancouver’s three protected drinking water reservoirs. Every day, this reservoir helps provide clean drinking water to nearly one million residents.

Yet for all its engineering significance, what struck me most was its serenity.

The water was impossibly still, acting like glass reflecting the surrounding mountains. Surrounded by towering evergreens the cool mountain air carries the scent of cedar and fir complemented by the fragrant roses. The stillness, the silence and the flavor in the air said more than words ever could.

Crossing the nearby Lions Gate Bridge added another chapter to Vancouver’s story.

Completed in 1938, the suspension bridge connects downtown Vancouver with the North Shore, toll free. Named after the twin mountain peaks known as The Lions, the bridge has become one of Vancouver’s defining landmarks.

If the airport introduced me to British Columbia’s relationship with nature, North Vancouver immersed me in it.

This started with the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park.

Stretching 450 feet across the Capilano River and suspended 230 feet above the canyon floor, the bridge has been welcoming adventurous visitors since 1889.

Adventure, however, was not the word running through my mind.

Terror might be more accurate.

With my heart beat racing and knees buckling, I timidly stepped onto the swaying bridge. My tour guide encouraged me to pause for a photograph.

I convinced my shaking legs to stay still enough for the photo, and even managed to let go off of the railings long enough for it.

Hand over hand, wobbly step by wobbly step, I made my way across, alternating between looking straight ahead and stealing nervous glances through the gaps at the rushing Capilano River far below.

Once safely on the other side, I could pay attention to the surrounding Douglas firs and western red cedars—many hundreds of years old—towering over us. It made me think of how much more we need to protect nature.

Now back on solid ground I rewarded myself with a much-needed pause at the historic Cliff House Restaurant before browsing the Trading Post gift shop. My nerves had settled just enough for me to convince myself that perhaps I was becoming braver.

Or perhaps I had simply forgotten how frightening the next attractions looked from the ground.

Floating through a forest

The Treetops Adventure invited visitors to walk among the forest canopy itself. Seven suspension bridges linked towering Douglas firs high above the forest floor, offering a perspective usually reserved for the birds. It felt like I was floating through a forest.

Walking on the danger side

Then came the Cliffwalk.

If the suspension bridge had tested my courage, the Cliffwalk demanded even more.

I descended down the narrow walkway that hugs the granite cliff face, with sections extending out over the canyon on steel supports and glass panels. Once again, it became a slow procession of careful footsteps, tightly gripping the handrails. Every now and then, I reminded myself to stop gripping the railing quite so tightly and simply breathe.

The reward was worth every anxious step.

I survived and I have the certificate to prove it!!! 

Our journey continued to the Capilano Salmon Hatchery.

Each year, thousands of salmon return to these waters after spending years in the Pacific Ocean, swimming upstream to the very place where their lives began. Watching them battle powerful currents to complete one of nature’s greatest migration offered a lesson in perseverance while highlighting the conservation work that helps sustain British Columbia’s salmon populations for future generations.

Just when I thought the day could not possibly become more memorable, our guide smiled and announced our final destination.

Grouse Mountain!

Known as the Peak of Vancouver, Grouse Mountain rises approximately 4,100 feet above sea level. The ascent aboard the Skyride was an attraction in itself. 

As the gondola climbed steadily above the forest, the city shrank beneath us until glass towers gave way to an endless landscape of mountains, islands and ocean.

Standing at the summit, I understood why Vancouver consistently appears on lists of the world’s most liveable cities. Few places offer such extraordinary wilderness only minutes from downtown.

Yet, surprisingly, it wasn’t the panoramic views that became my favourite memory.

Up close and personal with grizzly bears

For the first time in my life, I came face to face with grizzly bears!

Grinder and Coola, two orphaned grizzlies rescued as cubs and therefore can no longer survive in the wild, now live in a protected mountainside habitat where they attract visitors from around the world.

Seeing them was unlike anything I had expected.

Photographs simply do not prepare you for their sheer scale. Watching these magnificent animals move with surprising grace despite their immense size was both humbling and deeply moving. There is something about standing only metres away from one of North America’s most iconic creatures that commands complete respect.

Lumberjacks, axe throwing and more…

The mountain itself buzzed with life.

Summer camp children raced between activities, their laughter and chatter echoing before gradually settling into attentive silence as everyone gathered for one of Grouse Mountain’s famous lumberjack shows.

Equal parts entertainment and history lesson, the show celebrated British Columbia’s logging heritage with axe throwing, tree climbing and feats of strength, all woven together with stories about the province’s early pioneers and the forests that shaped its economy.

By the end of the afternoon, I realised Grouse Mountain offers far more than spectacular views.

It is where wildlife conservation, outdoor adventure, education and British Columbia’s history come together in one unforgettable experience.

As we descended back towards the city, Vancouver’s skyline reappeared in the distance.

Only now, I saw it differently.

It was no longer simply a beautiful city.

It was a city that had learned to live alongside the wilderness that surrounds it rather than trying to conquer it.

What awaited me in the city was electric!

Read about it here 👉Part III: When the World Came to Vancouver

2026 All Rights Reserved

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club, Facebook & Bluesky.

💡 Only WordPress.com members can hit the “Like” button, but everyone’s welcome to share their thoughts in the comments. Thanks!

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Australia—The Triple A Experience ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Travelogue16 Comments

Beforeword: Oceania had been on my travel list though I was not entirely sure what version of it I would encounter. It turned out to be Australia and New Zealand. This is the travel story of Australia.

Australia—where landscapes shift dramatically from coast to coast, cities each have their own vibe, and nature’s offerings are next level—is the only country that is also a continent. Besides the geography, what stood out most for me was the range of offerings: Gastronomy. Museums. Art. Music. Architecture. Wildlife. Vastness. 

It was the “Triple A Experience”  of Art, Awe and Architecture!

I flew in and out of Perth—so it was just a pass through. What I encountered on my transit however was a piece of my island home, Jamaica—JamaicaBlue coffee—and made the pass through more meaningful.

Tasmania and Brune Island on the other hand,  stole a part of my heart in ways I have written about separately. What remained of this Australian story unfolded through Sydney and Melbourne.

Sydney

Sydney is built around one of the world’s most beautiful natural harbours decorated with crisscrossing ferries, the Harbour Bridge that stretches confidently across the water, and a captivating  skyline including the Opera House—the central piece of my Sydney visit.

The Sydney Opera House

Perched on Bennelong Point, surrounded almost entirely by water, the Opera House is one of those architectural wonders I’ve  long admired, especially when it’s lit up for New Year’s Eve. Seeing it in person was different—bigger, more textured, more alive. Its sail-like shells against the surrounding water gives the entire structure a sense of movement.

There were no operas showing while I was there, which initially felt like a missed opportunity. But as the arts gods would have it, Jeff Goldblum was performing jazz for the first time in Australia, in Sydney, with a 50+ orchestra, for only two nights—and wait for it—those exact nights aligned with my stay in Sydney.

There I was, inside the iconic Sydney Opera House.

And it was jazz!

The show itself was spectacular. 

The acoustics inside the Opera House? Phenomenal.

Paint me satisfied and hang me in a museum. The artist in me felt fully curated.

In my post about Tasmania I shared that: Aussies rock!  This is how Aussie kindness showed up in Sydney:

Less than 48 hours before my trip, a friend had connected me to her friend in Sydney. I expected perhaps a quick conversation and a few recommendations. Instead, I got that and more.

Not only did she suggest places to visit, but we met for lunch. Conversation flowed so effortlessly you would think we had known each other for years. Turns out she is Kenyan and has lived in Sydney for nearly 30 years.

And yes — I am now up to my second new friend in Australia. [I chronicled the first friendship-making experience here.]

At her recommendation, I visited the Queen Victoria Building.

A stunning Romanesque architectural gem that feels more like an art boutique than a shopping centre. Ornate details. Stained glass. Elegant arches. And as if the architectural beauty alone was not enough, a pianist ignited  the space with music adding yet another layer of artistic expression.

At St. Mary’s Cathedral, I sat for a while.

To listen as the organ was being played. 

To quietly pray.

To simply be still.

Nearby, Hyde Park offered breathing room in the middle of the city with water moving through the Greek-mythology inspired Archibald Memorial Fountain.  

St. Mary’s Cathedral, Hyde Park, Archibald Memorial Fountain

Then there was Kings Cross neighbourhood. Once known for its nightlife and bohemian spirit, I could see that its edgier past is softening  with cafés, leafy streets, and beautiful old buildings now spread throughout the neighborhood. 

For places I could not fully explore, I learned from a distance aboard the hop-on-hop-off bus, listening to snippets of history while passing landmarks like Sydney Tower and Central Station’s clock tower — affectionately known as “the working man’s watch.” 

Beautiful Sydney

And then there was El Alamein Fountain in Fitzroy Garden which is one of Sydney’s most iconic fountains.

El Alamein Fountain

It looks almost like a giant dandelion or burst of water suspended in air. It was designed in the 1960s as a memorial to Australian soldiers who fought in the Battle of El Alamein in Egypt during World War II.

Melbourne

For Melbourne, the Great Ocean Road and the Twelve Apostles were my choice of must do things. 

The Great Ocean Road drive was breathtaking — dramatic cliffs, what seemed like endless coastline, and amazing  views. And to think that it was hewed out of cliffside terrain by returning soldiers after World War I. 

Built between 1919 and 1932, it was originally conceived as a memorial to those who died in the war—and remains the world’s largest war memorial.

What makes it even more striking is that it was constructed by hand, cut into rock and dense coastal landscape under difficult conditions, with sections completed by the very veterans it was meant to honour.

One stop was the Memorial Arch which marks the official start of the Great Ocean Road. It carries the words honoring the returned servicemen who worked on the road’s construction. Cars pass beneath it as a quiet reminder that this scenic route is also a war memorial.

One lookout point, Cape Patton, stood out because the road lifts high above the coastline.

Another stop was at Maits Rest—the quiet rainforest in the Otway Ranges. We walked along a boardwalk that winds through dense ancient forest, where tree ferns stretch upward and massive myrtle beech trees with trunks so massive I fitted inside them. 

We also passed through sections like Kennett River, known for koala sightings in the eucalyptus tree. Kennett River stood out because it bears my uncle’s name (though a different spelling) and I did see koalas lazing in eucalyptus trees! 

Earlier in the trip the driver also took us to the Anglesea Golf Club. It’s famous for its resident population of kangaroos—often seen casually grazing across the fairways as though they own the place. Humans coexisting with the wild.

Maits Rest, Kennett River, Anglesea Golf Club

The journey toward the Twelve Apostles felt like an unfolding tale of nature’s contradictions. On one hand, the breathtaking beauty it created — wave after wave, century after century of erosion sculpting towering limestone formations that rise dramatically from the Southern Ocean. And on the other, the quiet reminder that the very forces that created them — wind, salt, and relentless waves — continue to reshape them. Some stand weather-worn. Others have already disappeared into the sea.

The Apostles are no longer twelve. Those that remain feel like the final punctuation marks of that tale still being written by the coast.

Standing there was a reminder of nature’s power and that its beauty, too, can erode.

Architecture

Finally, the architecture in Australia repeatedly caught my attention. Buildings of different periods and styles existing side by side — historic facades meeting contemporary design.

One building covered in a vertical garden particularly stayed with me. Living architecture.

I could not help thinking how much I would have loved to use some of these buildings as muse for my interior design studies.

Australia did not disappoint.

What it offered in museums, art, music, and architecture, it matched with exceptional food and unforgettable experiences.

But perhaps the greatest gift of the journey was the unexpected friendships I formed along the way.

Thank you Australia!

2026 All Rights Reserved

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club, Facebook & Bluesky.

💡 Only WordPress.com members can hit the “Like” button, but everyone’s welcome to share their thoughts in the comments. Thanks!

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: New Zealand—Fantasy & Island Bliss ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Travelogue12 Comments

Beforeword: Fantasy in Hobbiton. Island bliss in Waiheke. And landscapes so extraordinary it’s like somewhere beyond this world. New Zealand—thank you for a remarkable glimpse.

New Zealand — an island nation in the southwestern Pacific, feels otherworldly in the truest sense of the word.

My take? Mother nature conspired with geography and created landscapes that were too cinematic for the human mind not to conjure up fantasy. 

And fantasy was exactly what I came seeking.

The one experience I pre-booked before arrival was the Hobbit Movie Set. Everything else—whatever it turned out to be—would simply orbit around that.

From flights over the island to drives through the countryside, the nature lover in me was awed—jagged mountains against lush green valleys. Rolling farmland that stretched lazily into the horizon dotted with sheep and cows grazing. This is dairy country for sure. The taste of their ice cream and cheese confirmed it. 

Because I visited in fall, I experienced the variations of nature’s moods all in a single day—sunshine and drizzle, warmth and chill, blue skies and grey clouds. 

On my flight into Auckland I was fortunate to be seated beside a Kiwi, and somewhere between takeoff and landing he became my unofficial guide to New Zealand. 

So engaging was our exchange that I forgot entirely about filming the aerial approach as he proudly pointed out his own house nestled among the rolling hills.

“Breathtaking,” I said. 

The flight attendant sitting across from us (the emergency seats) who had interjected in our conversation as we came into the landing, nodded in agreement.

Again I left room for what locals would recommend and so my Air New Zealand seatmate unexpectedly helped shape my New Zealand experience.

Exploring Viaduct Harbour. This is Auckland’s premier waterfront lifestyle and hospitality precinct.

My time there was brief—far too brief to claim I truly did New Zealand justice—but it was enough to quench a particular kind of wanderlust: the longing for fantasy, the pull of my island-girl spirit, and landscape so extraordinary it feels—well, otherworldly!

Into Middle-earth: The Hobbit Movie Set

Before The Lord of the Rings took the movie world by storm there was The Hobbit—a fictional species resembling short humans with furry, leathery feet who live in underground houses and are mainly farmers and gardeners.

What began as a bedtime story that J. R. R. Tolkien invented for his children grew into one of the most beloved fantasy novels of all time, laying the foundation for the vast mythology of Middle-earth. So naturally, I found myself heading into rural New Zealand to experience that imaginary world firsthand.

The journey from Auckland to the Hobbit Movie Set felt like an unveiling of sceneries—but one I nearly  missed. 

According to Google Maps, my hotel was just a ten-minute walk from the pickup point. Confidently, I decided to walk, thinking it would also give me a chance to absorb a bit of Auckland in the process. Now, following directions has never quite been my strength, but surely—with a generous buffer—I could not possibly be late.

That was the theory.

Reality looked very different.

I arrived in the nick of time huffing and puffing after yet another dramatic sprint to avoid missing transportation, and while traveling at that! Lucky me because the driver left exactly on time. Two other would-be passengers were not as fortunate. 

I settled into my seat and enjoyed the delicious breakfast my hotel had packed for me while watching the city gradually dissolve into countryside. And so the unveiling of sceneries began: skyscrapers gave way to winding roads, grazing sheep, and farmland so green it almost looked digitally enhanced (who knows in this AI age, right).

Then came one of those stories that feels too perfect.

The famous movie set sits on the Alexander family farm, and as the story is relayed by our guide, fate—or extraordinary luck—played a role in its discovery. When filmmakers searched for the ideal setting for Hobbiton, they considered locations that reflected Tolkien’s imagined world: rolling hills, pastoral calm, and storybook charm.

The Alexander farm stood apart because it had everything in one place—including the magnificent tree that would become central to Bilbo’s famous party scene. Rather than having to piece together landscapes from multiple locations, filmmakers found a setting that already seemed to belong to Middle-earth.

The bus ride from the visitor center only heightened the anticipation. With every hill we crested, I scanned the landscape for clues that the village might be near.

And then—there it was.

The set up is as if Middle-earth had existed there all along, and not part of a movie set on a working farm. Unlike other movie sets that must be torn down after production ends, this one could stay up in its entirety. 

What struck me most was the astonishing attention to detail.

This was not a hastily assembled movie site. It was so perfect I’d say even obsessively so. Every fence post, garden path, vegetable patch, stain glass window and weathered detail seemed placed with purpose to remain faithful to Tolkien’s descriptions. We learned that when nature did not cooperate with the vision, filmmakers simply created what was missing—including an apple tree and another huge tree that had to be constructed where none existed so the setting would feel true to the world Tolkien imagined.

That huge tree—real or not?
Definitely faux!

Fantasy, here, was precise.

Walking through Hobbiton felt delightfully disorienting. Tiny round doors and stained glass windows dotted the grassy hillsides. Laundry fluttered on lines. Gardens overflowed with flowers and vegetables, making the village feel lived in rather than staged.

And then there was me—very much reminded that I am not, in fact, a hobbit.

Inside one of the hobbit homes opened to visitors, my height became the reference for warnings of: “Watch your head”! I found myself bending and ducking to fit comfortably into spaces clearly designed for residents much shorter than me. It added to the charm somehow—the physical reminder that this world was built intentionally small, inviting visitors not only to see fantasy but to briefly inhabit it.

For a few hours, my imagination and my love for architecture were one. 

Waiheke: A Day of Island Ease

After wandering through fantasy, I traded Middle-earth for island ease.

When time is not on your side but curiosity is, a thoughtfully designed day tour can become the perfect compromise. So it was with Waiheke.

Just about 40 minutes by fast ferry from Auckland, Waiheke Island feels worlds away from the city despite its proximity. The ride itself was quick and because of the weather quite choppy as the ferry bobbed and weaved, slicing through the water as Auckland slowly receded behind us and island life beckoned ahead.

Known for prestine beaches, vineyards, olive groves, and relaxed coastal beauty, Waiheke was a welcome reprieve from the city. 

I visited during the off-season, which gave the island an intimate feel. Our guide pointed out that the short five-minute drive through the main town could stretch to thirty minutes during peak tourist season—a reminder that I was seeing Waiheke in its quieter, gentler mood.

The Taste of Waiheke Day Tour packed a surprising amount into a single day: sightseeing across the island, private transport, vineyard tastings at two of Waiheke’s celebrated wineries, an olive oil tasting at an award-winning grove, and a two-course lunch that felt far more elevated than the standard tour fare.

The views alone were worth the trip.

Vineyards rolled across hillsides toward the sea. Beaches framed by dramatic coastlines. Even under gloomy fall skies, the island’s beauty couldn’t be masked. 

We visited wineries including Mudbrick Vineyard and Restaurant and Batch Winery, but, what lingered with me most was not the wine itself.

I usually book wine tours because from my experience I’ve found they tend to attract a fascinating genre of people. There is something about beautiful vineyards that encourages strangers to become companions. And when you solo travel and want to have connections what’s better than an activity that brings together the curious, the conversational, the temporarily carefree. By day’s end, our group felt less like tourists sharing transport and more like old friends sharing an experience. We even joked of pooling our resources to purchase one of the beautiful, very expensive, beach homes our guide drove us by. 

That unexpected camaraderie became part of the memory.

The weather may have been gloomy, but the company, scenery, food, and laughter was sunshine enough.

New Zealand deserved more time than I could give it.

Yet even in a short visit, it managed to satisfy a longing to wander through worlds imagined and real, to step inside stories once read, and to be reminded that Mother Nature prides herself on her power to astonish.

Fantasy in Hobbiton. Island bliss in Waiheke. And landscapes so extraordinary it’s like somewhere beyond this world.

New Zealand—thank you for a remarkable glimpse.

2026 All Rights Reserved

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club, Facebook & Bluesky.

💡 Only WordPress.com members can hit the “Like” button, but everyone’s welcome to share their thoughts in the comments. Thanks!

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Bruny Island, Tasmania—a small place that stays with you ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Prose, Travelogue11 Comments

Beforeword: This travel story reveals how I experienced Bruny Island, Tasmania. It the island doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t ask for attention. But if you give it, it stays with you.

I’m writing this post sitting on a tour bus that’s parked on a ferry that is transporting us back from Bruny Island to mainland Tasmania and I’m reflecting on the day that is now concluding. 

About Bruny Island

Bruny Island is set just off the southeast coast of Tasmania. A 30-minute drive south of the city, Hobart, to the ferry terminal followed by a short ferry ride and you’re there.

Geographically, it’s part of Australia, yet once you cross that stretch of water, you feel the shift—the most obvious is that the roads narrow. But, as the distance grows, so is the sense that you’ve stepped into a different rhythm altogether.

Start in tranquility

The morning started on a quiet beach.

Before a single “attraction” had been ticked off, the tranquility of the beach set the tone. 

Breakfast was oysters (hard pass for me), cheese, and bread. The cheeses were delicious including Bruny Island award-winning C2 hard cheese. The bread was decadent and that’s not an exaggeration. Freshly baked, still warm, stored in a used microwave turned breadbox set in the baker’s fence.

And guess who collected the bread?! Moi!!

You’re wondering how that happened, aren’t ya?! Well, the only seat on the bus where my legs fit comfortably was up front by the driver (tall girl problems) so I became his sidekick on the tour.

Someone on the tour surprised me with this video of me retrieving the bread from the microwave turned breadbox. 

Adventure in wild life and light house

Next we made our way toward Adventure Bay. One adventure was scanning the landscape for a white wallaby. Albino. Rare. Not promised. Of course, this laidback island would not deliver on cue. You show up, you look, and if you’re lucky, you see. If not, you keep moving. And we saw—not one but four white wallabies. 

Further south, the road eventually gives way to one of the island’s most striking landmarks—Cape Bruny Lighthouse. Built in 1838, it is one of the oldest surviving lighthouses in Australia. Though no longer functional it stands watch where the Tasman Sea meets the fierce winds rolling up from the Southern Ocean.

We climbed about 70 steps up a narrow cast-iron spiral staircase that winds upward through the tower. At the top balcony, the reward was immediate—rugged cliffs and the wild southern coastline stretching in every direction to the horizon.

Lunch was at the quaint and small Hotel Bruny. The tour guide described the pink eye potatoes, that are native to Tas, as scrumptious so you know I ordered those as part of my lunch. The tour guide didn’t exaggerate.

Sweetness in small doses

We were treated to sweetness in small doses. First at Bruny Island Honey then Bruny Island Chocolate Company. The honey ice cream left me craving more!

More goodies in unusual places

Somewhere between those stops—no sign announcing it, no marker alerting to pay attention, only a slight hint by the tour guide—then a set of three antiques refrigerators sitting by the roadside came into view at Sheepwash Road.

What was this? 

Inside, loaves of sourdough bread and cookies baked by John Bullock, aka the Bruny Baker. Not a shopfront. No one standing there. Just a small box for payment and an unspoken agreement: take what you need, leave what you owe.

That stayed with me for a while. That system only works because people choose to make it work. It depends on trust, not enforcement. If it works on Bruny island couldn’t it work elsewhere!?

That’s when the island started to make more sense.

As we continued, I realized how easy it would be to miss entire parts of Bruny if you weren’t paying attention. Again, I’m not exaggerating.

When I say if “don’t blink or you’ll miss it” had a physical form, it would be Bruny main town. I kid you not, the tour guide announced: “We’re entering the main town” and by the time I changed the phone from photo to video we are through the town and he wasn’t driving fast.

The Island truly moves on a different frequency. The way distances are marked reinforces it.

Road signs don’t tell you how far something is—they tell you how long it will take to get there. Time, not distance, is the measure that matters. 

And just like that you stop asking: “How far?” and start asking: “How long?”; and not in a “are-we-there-yet?” way but from an unaware shifting in your thinking. And somehow, that small change slows everything down.

279 steps to the top of Truganini Lookout

And then the day shifted again—a painful past

As the day was winding down the tour guide told the story of Truganini. By the time we got to Truganini Lookout climbing the 279 steps felt like a step-by-step walk back into history. 

Bruny is also known as Lunawanna, a name from the Aboriginal people of the island. And standing there at the Lookout, it’s impossible not to think about Truganini—her life, what it represented, and what was lost.

From the top you have an unobstructed view of the island stretching out before you in both directions, narrow and exposed, held together by a thin strip of land. It’s beautiful, but it’s also grounding. Because the name carries a history of a powerful woman who fought for the protection and freedom of her people—the Palawa people of Lutruwita (Tasmania).

I didn’t know her specific story but it tugged on my heart strings because it didn’t feel distant to me. 

Jamaica carries its own version of that story. The near disappearance of the Taino people. The powerful woman, Nanny, who also fought for the protection and freedom of her people. The fragments we continue to hold on to today (see my post about Accompong). And, the things we’re still trying to recover and name properly. Different geographies, same pattern.

By the end of the day, I realized Bruny hadn’t tried to overwhelm with highlights.

It had the feeling of: do one thing, do it properly, and don’t complicate it. So, you savor it.

It didn’t stack experiences on top of each other or rush me from one moment to the next. It gave me space—between places, between thoughts, between expectations.

And in that space, the details started to matter more:

  • A fridge on the side of the road.
  • Experiences that traveled across continents and found similar meaning.
  • A place so small you could miss it.
  • A lighthouse so imposing you can’t miss it.

Bruny doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t ask for attention. But if you give it, it stays with you.

2026 All Rights Reserved

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In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Jamaica—birthMONTH 2025 ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry15 Comments

Jamaica is approximately 4,411 square miles. It is the third-largest island in the Caribbean, after Cuba and Hispaniola, and boasts three international airports located in Kingston, Montego Bay, and Ocho Rios.

On this return trip, I arrived through Kingston’s Norman Manley International Airport and departed from Sangster International in Montego Bay, bookending my journey with two of Jamaica’s vibrant gateways.

Join me on a reflective journey across the island, as I retrace the steps of my birthMONTH adventure—a soulful reconnection with places that have shaped my story. From the cultural heartbeat of Kingston (Jamaica’s capital), the scenic charm of St. Andrew (Bull Bay and Gordon Town), the coastal delights of St. Ann (Ocho Rios), to the resort elegance of St. James (Montego Bay), this was more than travel—it was a homecoming.

There is just something about flying into Jamaica.

The moment the plane touches down, that unmistakable wave of nostalgia and warmth that only comes with landing back in Jamaica washes over you!

It’s a unique kind of homecoming that stirs in the heart. A reconnection with history, with food, with friends, with wellness, and with memories tucked away awaiting that moment to be rekindled.

Kingston & St. Andrew

Devon House

First stop on this journey? The beloved Devon House—a Kingston gem that merges elegance with island flavor.

Built in 1881 by George Stiebel, Jamaica’s first Black millionaire, the estate is a proud symbol of Black excellence and ambition. Today, it’s a lush escape where the city comes to exhale. Under the canopy of mango trees you’ll often see families sprawled on picnic blankets, couples sharing ice cream cones, and children running free across the lawn.

Of course, I had to pay homage to their famous ice cream.

Their slogan, “I scream for Devon House Ice Cream,” is no lie—I was screaming for more after one scoop of Gingerific. Creamy, cool, and spiced just right, it was the perfect treat in the tropical heat. You’ll also enjoy the Devon House Bakery—the curry goat patty? Pure perfection.

The estate also features a number of charming eateries and local boutiques, making it a must-see whether you’re a first-time visitor or lifelong islander.

Terra Nova All-Suite Hotel

There are a number of exquisite hotels to choose from across the island. In Kingston, I chose an old favorite! You can’t go wrong with the refined comforts of Terra Nova All-Suite Hotel, a colonial-style mansion turned boutique hotel tucked away in the heart of the city.

For over 20 years, their head chef has lovingly curated a breakfast buffet that’s nothing short of a culinary celebration. From ackee and saltfish to fried plantain, callaloo, and yam, every bite took me deeper into the soul of Jamaican cuisine.

Their Sunday brunch is also mouth-watering good!

The hotel’s ambiance is old-world elegance with a distinctly Jamaican twist—perfect for slow mornings and full plates.

Jencare Skin Farm

To balance indulgence with self-care, there is Jencare Skin Farm, one of Kingston’s most revered spas. Jencare has been a sanctuary of beauty and wellness for decades.

From the moment you walk in, you will be enveloped in calm. Whether a soothing facial or therapeutic massage, your tension will melt away. Their signature skincare line and warm, professional staff are just part of what makes Jencare a beloved local treasure—a place where beauty rituals are both luxurious and healing.

Hope Royal Botanical Gardens and Zoo

I also carved out time for a reflective visit to the now refurbished Hope Gardens and Zoo. Established in 1873, this 230 acres stand as the largest public green oasis in Kingston.

As a child, I ran through its paths with wide-eyed and carefree wonder, and walking them again brought a wave of sweet remembrance. The towering palms, vibrant flowers, and playful chatter of children made the gardens feel timeless. On the day I visited a group of school girls, who were winners in their school’s beauty contest, were visiting.

Among its many treasures is Poets’ Corner, a tranquil nook that honors the words and legacy of Jamaica’s renowned poets and literary minds.

A Bull Bay Sunset

Bull Bay is nestled along the southeastern coast of Jamaica, just a short drive east of Kingston. The area is known for its surfing spots, laid-back vibe and rugged natural beauty.

I had the pleasure of soaking in the beauty of the simultaneous setting of the sun and the rising of moon from a rustic Airbnb perched above the coastline. With life-long and new friends, we let the afternoon melt into evening—music playing softly, laughter echoing, and a competitive yet light-hearted game of Ludo unfolding on the table.

As the sky flamed orange and gold, the sea mirrored every hue, creating a view that felt both surreal and grounding. There, in the golden hush of sunset, surrounded by love, joy, and the lull of waves, I was reminded of the simple moments that make life truly unforgettable.

For more on the drama of Jamaica sunsets, click here!

Traversing From Kingston to Montego Bay

Traveling from one end of the island to the other is made easier with the new North-South Highway (a.k.a. Highway 2000).

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If you want the most scenic travel across the island, climb aboard the Knutsford Express. This coach double decker bus service offers WiFi, AC, and spotless rest stops. The ride from Kingston to Montego Bay was scenic and smooth and only about three hours long. As the bus driver “tek time roll” (drove carefully) through winding roads, coastal views, and mountain backdrops, I watched the island shift and unfold.

Jewel Grande Resort and Spa

Montego Bay greeted me with glittering waters and slower rhythms balanced with water sports and oceanfront lounging at the luxurious Jewel Grande Resort and Spa.

There I met fellow birthday celebrants and a great majority of visitors who were returning for up to as many as five times.

Jamaica is truly a vibe!

A Foodie’s Delight.

Jamaica’s fruit scene? Unmatched! Among those I feasted on were: otaheite apples, custard apples, mangoes, naseberries, papayas, pineapples, and juicy watermelon. And nothing cooled me off better than fresh coconut water, straight from the shell.

When it wasn’t coconut water in hand, it was a Ziggy Marley (similar in look to the Bob Marley, but without the spirited zing of alcohol).

Jamaica is a gastronomy mecca! For some of the culinary delights that tantalized my palate, see these posts—click on links to Miss T’s Kitchen and Pretty Close.

Reconnecting With Friends

And perhaps the most soul-nourishing part of all—meeting up with childhood and long-time friends. This brought to life the Jamaican proverb: “Good friends better than pocket money.”

We caught up as if no time had passed, sharing laughter, stories, and reminders of who we’ve always been. Each meet up held the past and present side by side.

This trip reminded me that Jamaica is a land of beautiful contrasts.

It’s both rustic riverbanks and regal resorts; childhood nostalgia and grown-up indulgence; street-side sweetness and five-star finesse. It has a bit of everything for everyone.

I bid farewell to this beautiful island from Sangster International Airport, with a full heart.

No flight from Jamaica is truly complete without spotting at least one box of the legendary Wray & Nephew White Overproof Rum tucked securely under a seat. On my flight, it was just across the aisle. I waited patiently for its devoted owner to rise, just so I could snap a clear shot of this cultural icon.

More than just a drink, this overproof rum carries the spirit of home—a staple in Jamaican households, not only for celebrations but for its traditional “remedies” too: dabbed on foreheads to ease headaches, or used in ancestral rituals and medicinal blends passed down through generations. It’s not just rum—it’s a ritual, a memory, a piece of home.

From Kingston’s heartbeat to Montego Bay’s glow, this island never stops revealing new ways to be enchanting.

Whether it’s your first visit or your fifteenth, Jamaica meets you where you are—and leaves you better than it found you.

So, as the Jamaica Tourist Board implores: “come to Jamaica and feel alright”.

Walk Good!

[This is Jamaica’s way of saying: Take care / Stay safe!]

2025 All Rights Reserved
All videos and images by me

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In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Jamaica—Gastronomy Discovery in Ocho Rios ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry, Prose26 Comments

There are the 5 love languages, then there’s Jamaican food—the 6th love language!

I’ve been to Ocho Rios many times, but somehow, I had missed this gastronomic gem—and trust me, you don’t want to make the same mistake.

Whether you’re planning your next trip to Jamaica or you’re lucky enough to live on this island paradise, Miss T’s Kitchen deserves a spot at the top of your must-visit list.

With one long-time and one new-found friend, we drove in from Montego Bay, winding our way along Jamaica’s north coast. The road was mostly single-lane, curving through lush greenery and glimpses of the Caribbean Sea.

Ocho Rios is probably best known for Dunn’s River Falls, one of the wonders of Jamaica and one of the very few travertine waterfalls in the world that empties directly into the sea.

Ocho Rios is a vibrant town in St. Ann Parish, often called the “Garden Parish” of Jamaica. Now I know that it’s not only home to iconic attractions, but also this hidden culinary treasure—Miss T’s.

Tucked into a tropical courtyard just off the bustling streets of Ocho Rios, Miss T’s Kitchen welcomes you in a warm gastronomic embrace.

The restaurant’s eclectic, vibrant interior is a joyful explosion of color, culture, and character—mismatched chairs, painted tables, and murals that each tell a story of island life. Even the toilets—Miss Jane and Mas Joe—were brought into the artistic cultural expression complete with a dutchie for the face basin!

Miss T’s Kitchen is where love is the main ingredient.

The most endearing theme woven throughout the space is love. Love for food. Love for heritage. Love for community. Love in every nook and cranny of its decor—from the handwritten quotes on the wall to the lush plants hugging each corner, Miss T’s feels less like a restaurant and more like a home.

And then there’s the food!

There are meals you eat, and then there are meals you experience.

Let’s talk about the oxtail.

It was presented (not just served) in a miniature dutch pot (dutchie), tucked into a traditional coal stove, instantly transporting me back to the days when my mom cooked over one just like it. Instantly the meal turned into a nostalgic nod to home, to heritage, and the soulful simplicity of island life.

This dish alone is worth the journey—tender, slow-cooked, and seasoned with a depth of flavor that speaks to generations of culinary wisdom. It was testimony to the award hanging on the wall.

But Miss T’s doesn’t stop at oxtail. Every dish we ordered—whether, curry goat or salmon—was comfort food on a whole new level.

Locally sourced ingredients, and locally made dinnerware, and a focus on authentic preparation made the experience vibrant celebration of Jamaican flavors, art and culture. Each plate was garnished with a piece of leaf from the banana tree a nod to its versatility and intricate role in Jamaican cuisine. Even the drinks and desserts carry that same thoughtful, soulful touch. Of course I bypassed the long list of drinks offers for coconut water straight from the shell.

The best meals are shared, and I was lucky to enjoy this one with friends—one of whom was also celebrating his birthday.

Dinner at Miss T’s Kitchen was more than a stop on my itinerary—it was a reminder.

  • A reminder that the journey matters.
  • That simple spaces can hold profound beauty.
  • That when love is the foundation—whether in food, friendship, or life—it always leaves a lasting impression.

So if you ever find yourself on Jamaica’s north coast, make the drive to Ocho Rios. Follow the scent of seasoning, the sound of laughter, and the feeling of home. At Miss T’s, you’ll find them all in one place.

Come for the oxtail. Stay for the love.

2025 All Rights Reserved
Images by me

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club & Facebook.

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story: Jamaica—birthMONTH 2025 ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry21 Comments

It’s that time again—when I quench my wanderlust with my annual birthMONTH explorations. And this year, I chose to celebrate with a soulful return to the island of rhythm, roots, and radiance—Jamaica—a.k.a. Jah-mek-yah!

First, a hidden gem nestled in the cool hills of Gordon Town, in St. Andrew Parish—Pretty Close.

If you’re looking for a slice of authentic Jamaican magic—off the beaten path but full of soul—then welcome to the @prettyclose1876 experience.

With my sister and a dear friend, we made our way from Kingston, navigating the winding roads to Gordon Town—the birthplace of the legendary Miss Lou. It would take an entire post to do her justice, but suffice it to say she is the matriarch of Jamaican folklore, the cultural icon who lovingly gave voice and dignity to patois, Jamaica’s local language, and shared it with the world.

In the heart of the town square stands a statue in her honor, which is not only a powerful reminder of her legacy but used as a landmark in the directions given to find this hidden gem.

Directions are shared via WhatsApp—part of the rustic feel of this evolving Jamaican tourism product.

So this is the blue face truck!

This isn’t just a place to eat. It’s a full-on experience that feeds your body, your spirit, and your sense of adventure.

Imagine this: seated on tree trunks in the middle of a gently flowing river, your feet dipped in the cool water, a plate of steaming, home-cooked Jamaican food in front of you. That’s exactly how the day started—surrounded by nature, eating meals prepared right there by the river.

We started with a savory soup, sipped fresh coconut water—cooled in the river, laughed freely, and allowed the rhythm of the water and the food to set the pace.

Then came a short, scenic hike to Orchid Falls, a tucked-away treasure that felt like stepping into a postcard.

After getting drenched by this cascading beauty and snapping a few pics, we headed back down the river and along it’s banks for round two: more laughter, more food, and more of that soul-deep feeling of contentment.

The real star of the show? Omar, the chef behind the flavors, who cooks like your favorite auntie or grandma—with love, depth, and serious skill.

The cooking is done over an open wood fire, just like my grandma used to do back in the day. The pots are skillfully balanced on stones atop the wood fire. You can see the smoke wafting gently from the makeshift kitchen beside the river, carrying the earthy aroma of something special in the works. The smell of ital cooking is distinct—no salt, no butter—just the pure, unprocessed goodness of Mother Nature where the flavor is drawn from the land, the wood fire, and the love poured in.

Every bite was a reminder of why Jamaican cuisine is world-renowned: bold, fresh, and absolutely unforgettable. Served in calabash bowls in keeping with the natural experience—it was good to the last bite.

Roasted breadfruit
Rice and peas
The menu: fried fish, fried plantain, roasted breadfruit, rice and peas, ital stew

What I loved most is that it’s pretty close to / not far from Papine, a bustling metropolis, but it feels like a world away from the hustle and bustle of Kingston.

Pretty Close is a peaceful escape, rich with local charm and natural beauty.

If you ever find yourself in Jamaica, do yourself a favor and add Pretty Close to your itinerary. This spot is a must-visit. Period.

2025 All Rights Reserved
Images by me

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club & Facebook.

In creative solidarity, Dee

Travel Story—Oia, Greece: A Dream Come True ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry34 Comments

A couple of years ago, I was flipping through a travel magazine when I stumbled upon pictures of pristine white buildings crowned with startling blue domes, set against an azure sky.

Yes, like this building, except I took this picture!

At first, I wondered if it was a painting. It looked too beautiful to be real—more like a work of art suspended somewhere between dream and imagination.

But if it was real, I needed to know: Where is this place?

Sure enough, the magazine revealed the location: Santorini. Oia, to be exact.

And just like that, a seed of wanderlust was planted.

Being a hodophile with an insatiable case of wanderlust, I immediately began planning my trip to Greece, with Oia on the must-visit list.

And let me tell you—it did not disappoint.

Photo taken by me in Oia!

I decided to visit in April—my birth month. The weather was just right: warm but not scorching, and the crowds far thinner than during the peak summer season.

Because it was just before tourist season, I got a firsthand glimpse into why Santorini always looks so impossibly pristine in photos. Everywhere I went, hoteliers and homeowners were busy painting, whitewashing walls and steps, and polishing windows to perfection.

I stayed in a charming boutique Airbnb—Seven Suites—complete with a whirlpool and infinity pool just outside my bedroom.

Whether under a canopy of stars at night or in the quiet hush of dawn as sunlight pierced the horizon, I took advantage of the pool, gazing into the distance, lost in wonder.

Relaxed start to the day— watching the sun rise (one of my fav nature phenomenon to witness)

My exploration began in the village of Imerovigli, where whitewashed homes cling dramatically to the edge of a 400-meter (1,312-foot) caldera on the western side of this semi-circular volcanic island.

Photo credit—me!

From Imeroglivi I trekked to Fira (or Thira), the capital, winding my way through narrow, zigzagging footpaths, passing those iconic spots that many an ecstatic tourist, like myself, captured in photos and posted with hashtags galore.

But there was one photo I wanted above all else:

A flying dress photo.

Clad in a glamorous dress with a feather-light train made for the perfect windblown effect, I climbed stairs, scaled rooftops, and challenged my fear of heights in pursuit of the shot.

Every step upward came with a little self-talk:

“It’s okay.”

“You’re okay.”

“Don’t look down.”

“Think of how stunning these pictures will be!”

And somehow—miraculously—I made it to the rooftop and got a few shots I absolutely loved.

After conquering a rooftop, though, you just gotta get a blue dome shot:

Thank you to Santorini Dress for helping a dream come true!http://www.santorinidress.com!
Not our ship but this scene was too idyllic not to photograph. This beauty was docked in Fira.

With only three days on the island before my Greek Isles cruise began, I finally made my way to Oia—the place that had lived in my imagination for so long.

And she did not disappoint.

Oia, Santorini’s postcard-perfect village, is often considered the island’s most picturesque destination, known for its whitewashed beauty, iconic blue domes, and breathtaking sunsets.

The windmills.

The remains of an old Venetian castle.

The sweeping caldera views.

This is what wanderlust fulfilled looks like.

The windmills of Oia
Remains of an old Venetian castle

From the village, beginning near the Venetian castle, I trekked down nearly 300 steps—278 to be exact—to Ammoudi Bay.

1st of 278 steps toward Ammoudi Bay
Looking up from Ammoudi Bay! See the remains of the old castle all the way up?

I descended on foot, but you could rent donkeys. Already challenging my fear of heights by just looking down from the castle to the bay, I decided against going down on the back of an ass (pun intended).

Ammoudi Bay is stunning—a tiny cove with crystalline waters and fishing boats bobbing gently in the sea. Undeniably one of the most picturesque corners of Santorini.

Along the waterfront, fish taverns line the shore, offering fresh seafood and front-row seats to the rhythmic soundtrack of waves meeting the Aegean Sea.

And yes, I fully leaned into the experience at Sunset Ammoudi, a restaurant renowned for its exceptional seafood and unforgettable setting.

There may not be beaches at Ammoudi Bay, but that certainly did not stop me from getting into the water. Well… not fully.

At the very least, I had to dip my feet into the cool, crystal-clear waters of the Aegean Sea.

And of course, what’s a trip to Santorini without fully embracing those iconic white buildings and blue domes?

Not painted white but this is the John the Baptist Catholic Cathedral so it had to make the list

And last, but by no means least—Greek cuisine.

As someone who loves good food, Santorini fed both my appetite and my soul.

Creative seating outside a souvlaki eatery!

In a heartbeat!!

That is my resounding response to: Would you go back to Santorini?

2024 All Rights Reserved
All photos taken by me!

Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords, the Writers Club & Facebook.

In creative solidarity, Dee