Beyond Bourbon

New Orleans. Those two words conjure up images of debauchery -- drunken nights on Bourbon Street filled with beads, boobs and free-flowing booze. I've been to the Louisiana city three times, and while I'll admit that I've partaken in my fair share of stereotypical French Quarter fun, I have to add that there's so much more to NOLA -- and the surrounding Gulf Coast region -- than its reputation implies. This Where to Wander Wednesday spotlights a few of my favorite things from my most recent journey to the land of Mardi Grad madness. 

Obligatory shot of Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral. 

One of the first thing tourists do in New Orleans is head to the French Quarter -- and for good reason. The historic neighborhood is the oldest in the city, dating back to 1718, and as such, it's a maze of striking architecture and landmark attractions, like Jackson Square, St. Louis Cathedral and the legendary Cafe du Monde, the home of cafe au lait and the quintessentially deep-fried beignet. Open 24 hours a day, seven days a week -- with the exception of Christmas Day and during active hurricanes -- the "Original French Market Coffee Stand" has been serving the sweet staple -- covered with an inches-high mound of powdered sugar -- since 1862, and it's worth at least one visit for history's sake. Just don't wear black or expect the friendliest Southern hospitality; with its widespread reputation and revolving door of tourists, the restaurant doesn't need to work very hard to woo customers. 

Try as I might, I can never resist Cafe du Monde beignets! 

My most recent trip took me to New Orleans for a work conference, and because I was traveling solo, I was warned about safety in the city at night. So instead of hitting up the ubiquitous bars, night clubs and live music venues that line the tightly packed streets, and instead of tossing back a Hurricane or three and stumbling my way back to my conference hotel, I opted to do my sightseeing by day -- um, after the conference sessions, of course, boss -- and meet up with friends for dinner. Luckily, I was able to reconnect with both a high school and college friend who now call New Orleans home, and they introduced me to off-the-Bourbon-path dining destinations favored by locals. My favorite was Adolfo's, a tiny hole in the wall that serves rich and delicious Italian cuisine with a Creole-Cajon twist. It's located atop a rickety wooden staircase above the Apple Barrel Bar on Frenchmen Street in the Marigny, far enough off Bourbon to feel different (and safer), yet still lively and eclectic thanks to the energy of musicians busking on corners and in doorways. 

Perhaps my favorite thing about this trip to New Orleans was the road trip I took that ventured outside of New Orleans. On my way out of the city, I drove through wards -- particularly the 9th Ward -- still utterly devastated by 2005's tremendous Hurricane Katrina. I stopped for a tour of the Villalobos Rescue Center, the site of the Animal Planet show Pit Bulls and Parolees, and I envisioned what the "City of Second Chances," as a mural depicts on the side of the rescue facility, could be if only it had the resources to pull itself out from the depths of its despair. (NOTE: Due to recent threats to staff, Villalobos Rescue Center no longer offers tours of its facility.) 

Villalobos Rescue Center, changing lives one pit bull and one parolee at a time. 

Once I left the city of New Orleans, I crossed the spectacular Lake Pontchartrain Causeway, where you're driving almost at sea level across "the world's longest bridge over a body of water." Do this drive during sunset and you're in for an absolute treat; I specifically timed my return drive to witness Mother Nature in all her colorful glory. Now, I could wax poetic for days about my love of a solo road trip, windows down, music up, nothing but the open road in front of me, but I'll spare you -- for now.

Miles of white sand along the Gulf Coast

Suffice it to say, I loved cruising along the Gulf Coast, stopping along the way for Southern Pecan Nut Brown Ale at Lazy Magnolia Brewery, "Mississippi's Oldest Brewery" in Kiln, Mississippi, dating all the way back to 2003 (the Deep South still has some pretty funky alcohol laws); fried green tomatoes at Blow Fly Inn in Gulfport, Mississippi (as seen on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives); and photo ops of white-sand beaches on the way to Biloxi. 

Lazy Magnolia, Mississippi's Oldest Brewery: Worth a trip -- and more than a few sips -- in Kiln, Mississippi, about an hour's drive from New Orleans. 

I've said before that I truly love the journey as much, if not more than, the destination. That sentiment rung true on my tour of the Gulf Coast. My destination may have been New Orleans, but with so many more sights to see, flavors to taste and neighborhoods to explore, and so much more history and culture to appreciate than just one city could offer, the journey beyond the city limits was well worth taking. And I know there's so much more out there I still need to explore. 

Sun setting on the Gulf Coast near Gulfport, Mississippi 

On Top of the World in Oia

As a wanderluster with an appreciation almost as much for the journey as for the destination, I can find something to marvel at no matter where I go -- whether it's the middle of absolutely nowhere in Texas (where I simply marvel at the massive size of Texas!) or on top of the world in one of the most spectacular places I've ever visited: Oia, on the Greek Island of Santorini. This Where to Wander Wednesday is dedicated to that volcanic island and the awe it inspires at every turn. 

Yes, it really does look like it does in pictures. 

I know that everyone and their grandmother who has ever been to Santorini has the same photo, but that's OK. It simply shows that no matter when you go, you'll be lucky enough to witness the same beauty experienced by generations of tourists before you -- and generations of travelers to come. While I do love "the road less traveled," sometimes the road more traveled is also worth taking. Santorini is that road. One of the Cyclades Islands in the Aegean Sea, the island as it is today was formed by a volcanic eruption in the 16th century, leaving it rugged, dramatic and a sight to behold. Santorini curves around an underwater caldera, or crater, and its volcanic nature is easily recognizable in the red-rocked cliffs and black-sand beaches that shape its coast. 

You first experience the drama that is life on the edge of a volcano when you arrive by ferry or cruise ship from Athens or one of the other Greek Isles. The bus ride up the hill from the port is enough to make you hold your breath -- and pray that the driver hasn't been sipping some of the ouzo or raki that is abundant at every Greek meal! The most popular of the Greek Islands, Santorini's two biggest towns are Fira, in the center, and Oia, on the northern tip. On my three-night stay I didn't make it to Fira, opting instead for the oft-photographed, artsy and incredible Oia. Despite the crowds and the heat (I was there in July -- avoid August at all costs!), it remains one of my all-time favorite destinations. Quintessential white-washed houses are at every turn, freshly painted each year to keep up their classic appearance; turquoise domes and bright pink bougainvillea pop with color among the white cliffs; top-of-the-world sunsets draw applause nightly from wine-sipping crowds perched on rooftops, cliffs, walkways, restaurant patios -- anywhere and everywhere they can get spot; and nights are spent sleeping in upscale hotel rooms carved into cliffside caves. 

That's where my first Where to Wander Wednesday recommendation comes in: Stay in a cave hotel. My choice: Filotera Suites, where one of Oia's many cliffside hotel pools dangles high above Amoudi Bay, offering panoramic, pinch-me-I'm-dreaming caldera views as far as the eye can see. 

The view from inside the cave. Not too shabby. 

It's easy to stay perfectly content high above the water in Oia, but it's worth hiking down the 300 steps to tiny Amoudi Bay below, where fishing boats dock and a row of open-air waterfront restaurant shacks allow the waves to crash right at your table.

The red-rocked view from the bottom up. 

After a bottle or four of Mythos beer, you may be tempted to hitch a ride on one of the donkeys awaiting weary travelers, but (here comes my animal advocacy PSA) please don't. You get to jump off the rocks into the refreshing (aka COLD) Aegean at the bottom of the steps or back into your hotel's infinity pool at the top; those poor donkeys have no such luxury. 

Jump on in -- the water's fine! And by fine, I mean absolutely freezing, but totally worth it! 

Sweet donkeys -- look, but don't ride! 

With all the beauty, food (blocks of salty, delicious feta cheese everywhere!), drink, shopping and relaxation all in tiny Oia, there's really no need to leave, but as a traveler who likes to jam-pack way too many things into my trips, I can always find a reason. In Santorini, that reason was one of the volcanic beaches on the other side of the island: Kamari Beach, a resort town with a bustling waterfront walkway and a black-pebble beach surrounded by rocky mountains. 

Black sand and beach bar service -- take me back! 

With breathtaking beauty everywhere you turn on Santorini, it's hard to believe that the island was formed by one of the most dramatic eruptions only Mother Nature could conjure. But out of the ashes arose an amazing destination -- one to which I absoultely can't wait to return.  

Juneau Where You Are?

You're in Alaska, baby, and you're going to fly! And fly I did -- thanks to an adrenaline-pumping outing with Alaska Zipline Adventures in Juneau, the remote state's even more remote capital. Reachable only by boat or seaplane, Juneau is a popular cruise ship port, one of my favorite stops on a week-long cruise of Alaska's Inside Passage and this week's Where to Wander Wednesday destination spotlight. 

Alaska: The Last Frontier. The Land of the Midnight Sun. Seward's Folly. Whatever you want to call it, our 49th state is a wonder worthy of exploration. Secretary of State William Seward may have been ridiculed in the late 1800s for his insistence on purchasing the vast piece of land from Russia, but to the nearly two million tourists each year who set their sights on the spectacular northwestern state, the destination is no joke. In fact, it's a serious bucket list trip for many wanderlusters looking for breathtaking scenery, outdoor adventures, fresh air, wildlife encounters and endless daylight -- as long as it's summertime. Give me 18 hours of sunlight and 80-degree temperatures and I'm a happy traveler. Give me the opposite, not so much. As my dear friend Jay -- who has lived in Anchorage for years -- would say, "Going from San Diego to Alaska in the middle of winter would be like jumping into a cold pool after getting out of a sauna...with a blindfold on." In other words, the cold and dark isn't for weather wimps like me. 

Good thing it was mid-June when we embarked on our seven-day journey from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Whittier, Alaska, just outside of Anchorage. In addition to Juneau, the ship stopped in Ketchikan and Skagway, and included a day of scenic cruising through the breathtaking (literally -- even in the summer, the air is crisp enough to take your breath away) Glacier Bay National Park. 

The whole trip was incredible, with photo ops at every turn. Cruising by thunderous, calving glaciers and crystal-blue icebergs. Strolling through Gold Rush towns that seem to be lost in time. Scoping out wildlife -- eagles, bears and moose, oh my! 

But in the spirit of Where to Wander Wednesday, I'll highlight one city and two of my favorite things to do in that city. In Juneau, tourists flock to the Mendenhall Glacier, a 13-mile-long face of ice just outside of the city and accessible inexpensively by shuttle bus. Dating back 3,000 years to the last ice age, the glacier is one of 38 large glaciers that make up the 1,500-square-mile Juneau Icefield. Part of Tongass National Forest, the park offers six trails for different vantage points -- all with opportunities to encounter wildlife (check out the bear-proof trash cans!) and waterfalls. 

It was an unseasonably warm day in Juneau the day we visited, with a high in the 80s (typical June highs are in the mid 60s), a low of 59 and 18 hours of sunlight -- leading us silly San Diegans to foolishly remark, "We could totally live here!" Juneau residents, on the other hand, were sweating feverishly and cooling off by swimming -- yes, swimming! -- next to icebergs in the glacial waters. Even with 80-degree air temperatures, swimming in iceberg water is decidedly not for weather wimps like me! 

While glacier viewing is fine family fun for tourists of all types, my number-one favorite attraction in Juneau came courtesy of the aforementioned Alaska Zipline Adventures, which offers exhilarating zipline tours through the emerald-green Juneau rainforest. Not for the faint of heart or feared of heights, the nearly four-hour tour through the treetops is a must for adrenaline junkies. Having ziplined previously in Hawaii, I was a cocky second-timer -- until I got to the suspension bridge portion of the experience. For some reason, even secured by a harness, crossing a way-too-wobbly-for-my-liking wooden bridge over a "rushing salmon-spawning stream" was 10 times more terrifying than flying through the forest at fast speeds. After seven zips and the death-defying bridge crossing, the tour ended with an axe-throwing challenge that proved I was certainly not a lumberjack in a former life. 

Because a trip to Alaska wouldn't be complete without feasting on Alaskan king crab legs, our final stop for the day was Tracy's King Crab Shack, where we met up with the monster below and snacked on some of his delicious friends before heading back to the ship -- convinced that although truly no roads lead to Juneau, a journey to the scenic Alaska capital is one worth making. 

Once Bitten by the Travel Bug

At the early age of 2, I was bitten by a bug, and I’ve been living with the side effects ever since. This bug's main symptom is a constant itch to get up and go - anywhere and everywhere. To see sights I’ve never seen before, to taste new foods, meet new people, experience new cultures, and return to reality full of new stories to tell and pictures to share. And then to plan the next journey and do it all over again.

I credit my parents for exposing me to this bug when I was just a toddler. At age 2, I spent my birthday in Bermuda (check out my dad, the original hipster, with his killer seventies handlebar mustache). At age 3, Curacao. I know that I was too young on those trips to remember them, but I'm still certain they had an influence on the world traveler I’ve become. Throughout my childhood, travel was just something we always did. When I was 5 and my brother was born, my parents bought a condo in south Florida. At least three times a year, from age 5 to my teen years, we would pack up our 1980 Ford Econoline van with summer clothes, grandma’s home-cooked chicken - and usually both Grandma and Nana - and we’d roll out of our driveway in New Jersey singing Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” as we set off on the 1,200-mile journey down the East Coast. We’d traverse seven states on that road trip, ticking off mile markers, stopping at kitschy rest areas like South of the Border between North and South Carolina, spending the night in a Days Inn in small towns off I-95 with names like Fayetteville and Rocky Mount, until we finally made it to the Sunshine State. There was nothing like the freshly squeezed orange juice at the Florida Welcome Center. Even though we still had five hours left of the journey once we crossed the Florida state line, that fresh, cold OJ always signaled that we were almost there.

When I was 13, we added a new and exciting element to our Florida trips: week-long Caribbean cruises out of Miami or Fort Lauderdale. Each summer of my high school years, my family of four would team up with our close friends – another family of four with a daughter roughly my age and another my brother’s age – and set sail to different exotic ports of call: St. Thomas, St. Maarten, Martinique, Barbados, Grand Cayman, Cozumel. You name a port in the Caribbean, and it’s likely my teenage feet stepped foot on it at least once. Each trip was an adventure in its own. In addition to doing touristy things like buy Hard Rock Café t-shirts and try our hand at snorkeling or parasailing, my dad always liked to see how the locals lived. What better way to do that than to stop in a grocery store in an off-the-beaten-path neighborhood, or simply stop and talk to a local and ask them how they’re doing.

Not going to lie: Teenage me didn't always love family vacations!

As I got older and went off to college, I knew right away that I wanted to study abroad. I chose my major of media studies because I knew there would be the opportunity to study in Manchester, England, my junior year. But by the time junior year came, I had become so involved in my Spanish classes that I chose instead to study in Madrid, Spain. I spent eight weeks immersed in Spanish culture, living with a host senora, taking classes, and living it up as only a newly 21-year-old in a foreign country could. I made new friends, one of whom would become my mid-twenties travel buddy, and I spent another few weeks hopping from country to country on a Eurorail pass, staying in hostels, seeing sights like the Eiffel Tower, the Roman Coliseum and the Swiss Alps, all the while collecting memories that would shape my life and stay with me forever.

In fact, I credit my travel bug and sense of adventure for bringing me to where I am now. Without those experiences in my younger life, I never would have had the courage or even the inspiration to pick up my East Coast life and move it from New York City to California. But with more than 20 years of travel under my belt at the time, I knew that there was much more out there than even New York City - the center of the universe - had to offer.

And I was right. My move to San Diego introduced me to so many new sights - Hollywood and Beverly Hills, San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge, the neighboring Arizona desert and the rainy but wonderful Pacific Northwest. It immersed me in a completely new laid-back lifestyle. And it introduced me to a whole host of new people, including my husband, who, like me, loves to travel. He even joined the Navy to see the world - an experience that allowed me to travel to Singapore to visit him on deployment. In our 14 years together, we’ve traveled to so many places it’s hard to keep count. We spent our honeymoon on a Baltic cruise, visiting places like Amsterdam and Russia. Together, we’ve ziplined in Alaska, bungee jumped on Vancouver Island, plunged off the 192-meter Sky Tower in New Zealand, perched atop the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, searched for Nessie in Scotland, practiced our archery skills outside a medieval castle in Estonia, smoked cigars in Cuba and fed kangaroos in Tasmania. And we’ve only just begun.

Doesn't everyone practice archery at a medieval Estonian castle on their honeymoon? 

Over the past 15 years I’ve lived in San Diego, I’ve had to tell my parents numerous times that they’re the reason I live so far away - whenever they ask when I’m moving back to New Jersey, I remind them that they’re the ones that let the travel bug bite me all those years ago, so they have no one to blame but themselves!

The truth is, I am so blessed and so fortunate to have parents who raised me with the curiosity to explore new things, with the resources to afford these opportunities and with the sense of adventure to seek out new experiences. I can only hope to continue to be so fortunate to venture to many more new places in the future, perhaps with a family of my own. And when I do, I’ll be sure to visit an off-the-beaten-path grocery store, or stop a local, simply to ask how they’re doing. 

And then I'll blog about it!

Second to travel, writing is the other thing I was born to do. It only makes sense to combine the two. In Wanders Never Cease, I'll be blogging about adventures to destinations near and far, fun events and road trips in San Diego and Southern California, the excitement and culture that awaits across the border in Mexico, and pet-friendly travel (for my fellow dog lovers). Read more about what I have planned under "My Destinations" and subscribe to my blog to follow along!  

I'm so excited to embark on this blogging journey and I'm hopeful you'll all come along for the ride. Adventure awaits...let's go!