What it Actually Means to Date a Foreigner

It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever done, but it’s also full of unexpected difficulties and complex relationship dynamics you might not encounter in a “normal” relationship. Here are some of the harder truths about what might look like a fairy tale from the outside.

“Have an amazing time, but whatever you do don’t fall in love!” My friend laughed at me over the glass of wine she was sipping, looking meaningfully to her boyfriend.

It was the eve of my 25th birthday, the night before I left for a six-month solo backpacking trip across Europe, and I was having drinks to celebrate. The couple advising me to be careful with my heart abroad had good reason to do so: He is Canadian and she is American. They had met several summers before on an archaeological dig in Greece, and had spent the ensuing years straddled between two countries, their lives semi on-hold while they battled immigration systems, time differences and family health crises, trying to find a way to just live in the same place. As a friend, I had an up close look at how taxing the situation could be.

“Don’t worry,” I assured them. “This trip is not about falling in love!”

Well, to make a long story short, it ended up kind of being about falling in love. Two months later, I sat down on a Greek beach (what’s up with Greece and my friends, by the way?) next to a handsome stranger. We got to talking, and my life utterly changed. Right now, I live in Italy with that handsome stranger, and we also happen to be engaged.

And, yes, it is gloriously romantic, and yes, I can’t believe it happened to me either. (And no, it was not a nude beach.)

I love my love story. I’m a sucker for romance and I love that it is so over the top. I love that nearly three years later, in so many ways, the epic-ness of our beginning has not lead to disappointments in daily realities. I cannot believe how much I love this man, and how close I came to never meeting someone so incredible.

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No matter how much I love juicing all the beautiful details of the most beautiful moments in our relationship (have I mentioned the moonlit moped ride across the Greek island after our first kiss?), it’s obviously not all rainbows and butterflies. We all know (at least logically) that an amazing meet-cute can only sustain a relationship for so long. Luckily, we’ve found ways to make the complexities and intensity work.

Here are a few of the harsher realities we’ve come up against over the years.

It’s LONG distance

Right, this is the obvious one. People are always asking me how we make it work, how in the world we can withstand the distance of 4,400+ miles, not to mention the 7 time zones. I guess the short answer is, for the right person, you’d do it too. Because I’ve tried in the past, and I’ve sworn long distance off as hopeless and unworkable for someone “like me”. But then, with The Fiancé, when there was no choice but the distance for long stretches of time, it was the easiest choice I’ve ever made.

Of course, even with a great person on the other side of the space, the distance is still there, and the distance SUCKS. It can feel like you’re living a half life, like your heart and soul are on another continent entirely. And for all the coordinating you’ll do to cross time zones and catch each other on Skype, video chatting can be devastatingly unsatisfying.

On the flip side, a lot of talking is great way to get to know someone really well. You’re forced to ensure that you can keep up a conversation. But the missing physical intimacy is a real issue.

No, you don’t just move to a new country

So, the distance is one thing. But if you’re not just dating someone who lives across a state line or on a different coast, you also need to deal with immigration, tourist visas, and if you decide to make the move to where your honey is, residency.

One of the questions I’ll admit annoys me the most is “You mean you can’t just move to Italy?”

No, despite all the people who threaten to move to Canada when an election doesn’t go their way, you cannot just pack up and start looking for work in a new country. Frustratingly, as an US citizen, a lot of short term work visas EU and Commonwealth citizens enjoy are just not available. If you do find a path, there’s always a process (ie tons of time and possibly lots of money in legal fees/trips to consulates), and you have to meet a very specific set of requirements to get through the red tape. For some, it’s just not possible.

The harsh truth: I spent more than half of 2016 working two waitressing jobs, sometimes +15 hours a day, often 50-70 hours a week (and on the opposite schedule as most of my friends) in order to save enough money to be in Italy for 4.5 months on combined tourist visas. I cannot work legally in Italy while I am there, and I have bills to pay back home. I had to return home in early 2017 for more than 4 months to wait out my expired tourist visa, and save money again. Eventually, I’ll have residency, but that will come from a legal, lifelong commitment (one which I am completely ready to make, even under the circumstances which compel us to sign on the dotted line faster than me we may otherwise) and even then, there are no guarantees about when I’ll find work and what I’ll be doing.

It sucks.

I have put my professional career on hold and feel like I’m living two half lives in order to cobble together tourist visas so that I can stay in Italy for chunks of time, jump to another continent for a few days to gain a few more days here, and transition from one country to the other again and again. It’s been fun and exciting, but I’m frankly done.

It can be really awkward

In a relationship like this, there is a lot of intimacy really fast. Maybe in a “normal” relationship, you go on a date once, then twice a week, which escalates to sleep overs, and traveling together and eventually living in the same place. You get some reflection time in those first few weeks, time to think about the person, to miss them, to continue to live your life and integrate the new partner at a natural pace.

But when you’re living on difference continents, getting the chance to be together means you’re TOGETHER ALL THE TIME. You don’t want to give up one second of that hard-fought, precious time in the same city or apartment. But even if you’re not both introverts, even five days (not to mention weeks) of nonstop togetherness is really overwhelming. That much togetherness sometimes doesn’t give you the chance to present your best self to one another (not that there isn’t a time and a place for being authentically, messily you in a committed relationship – I just know personally, I get unnecessarily grouchy when not given adequate time to zone out all alone, no matter how much I love the person I’m with). You need breaks, or at least the semblance of being alone. That can be hard to learn to ask for, when all you’ve wanted for months is to be close to your sweetheart.

Additionally you also need to rely on each other to a huge extent when you are in each other’s countries. There’s no neutral ground. Which can be a part of the fun and romance, of course, but it’s also really taxing for both the person experiencing culture shock and the person explaining the cultural nuances and translating everything for their partner. Think about it: any time you go to see your significant other, you’re either totally immersed in their home, their element, their family, their language and their culture (all the while trying to put your best foot forward, of course) OR they are in yours (trying to do the same). There’s no coffee shop in the city you both live in where you can just go and talk. Everything is loaded with newness for at least one person, and the other is supporting the newbie through it.

The first time I came to Italy, The Fiancé was my tour guide and my translator, he was introducing me to his family and friends AND we were still getting to know each other. It was an incredible tour of the country, but so much more was happening for both of us. Even today, when I’m in Italy I rely on him for rides, about half of my social interactions and language help, no matter how independent I am when I live in the States.

Alternatively, when you opt to both travel and meet one another in a new country, you’re not only together 24-7, you’re also together on vacation. Everyone says to travel with someone before you agree to marry them, but I’m not sure they mean on your third date, which was effectively what we did. The first time The Fiancé and I met up after the three days we spent on the Greek island where we met, it was for a 5-day road trip in Ireland. We had to learn about each other, negotiate where to eat (meaning figuring out what each other LIKED to eat while still being polite and deferential to a new person we both really liked), build a routine, do all the normal first date activities, AND learn how to be on vacation together.

I kind of can’t believe we survived it. As romantic as it sounds, it can be a awkward to be that intimate with someone that rapidly. Luckily, no one got food poisoning!

And then you have the emotional whiplash of transitioning from seeing each other 24-7 for a few weeks to long distance exile once again. I have found myself reduced to a weeping mess, curled up on a friend’s couch drinking wine and watching Making a Murderer for days after The Fiance’s time in Minnesota (bless her husband for letting me do that). It was in the style of the most devastating of break ups, but I was still very much dating the man: he was just on a plane back to Italy. It was more difficult than I ever imagined to be the one left behind.

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All of that said, beginning and maintaining this relationship is the most incredible choice I have made in my life. It has torn my world opened in the most lovely way, challenged me and given me the opportunity and travel and live abroad. I’ve had to peel back and walk away from a lot of the parts of myself I clung to as a part of my identity, and relearn how to exist in a whole new culture and country. It’s hard, and the process isn’t over, but the growth and life experiences are worth it for me. I am excited beyond words for what lays ahead for The Fiancé and I.

Traveler’s Notebook: Jordan

December 31st, 2016

Writen in Madaba, Jordan

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The view from Mount Nebo, looking north towards the Jordan River Valley.

Yesterday afternoon, after standing on the edge of Mt. Nebo – where Moses is said to have finally seen the promised land before dying – we set off across the neighboring hills to find the ruins of a cluster of pilgrimage churches. We were quiet and introspective; I don’t think we had anticipated the effect that hillside would have on us as we curiously walked up the cement pathway, past a few monks, past commemorative signs, a declaration from the Pope that this was, in fact, Holy Ground.

I can’t say I know what it takes for a place to become spiritual and meditative. Is it the other tourists (or lack thereof) around you feeling the same thing, a sort of collective rising of consciousness? Is it the centuries of pilgrims who have walked and prayed before you, filling the air and ground with an intrinsic sense of stillness? Or has it always been there, drawing people in, silencing their hearts and minds, inspiring them to build churches and way-side rests in this place?

Perhaps, it was just this evening in particular, settling in early and chilled: golden pink sunlight softening the desert hills, glittering off the Dead Sea below and shadowing the hills of Israel and Palestine beyond.

Even living in Italy, even traversing the grandness of that epic Roman empire, we have been realizing that we are in the face of something more ancient to humanity than those columned temples and marble-paved roads. These hills have seen, cultivated and given more than we can contend with or imagine today. Life, crops, religions. Inevitably, war and grief. Perhaps this is what stuns and silences us, as well.

Before the sun fully set, as as the tour groups cluster along the cliff side which makes “Mount” Nebo a mountain rather than a quick fall to hundreds of meters below sea level, we leave to seek out one more nearby ruin that we’ve read about. The area surrounding Madaba is known for incredible, Byzantine-era mosaic floors which used to decorate homes and churches alike, remains of which are hidden throughout the hills and still being discovered. True, we’ve seen a lot of them in the last few hours, but nights are long this time of the year, and we want to experience as much as possible before dark.

We take a right off the main road – a two-lane paved street laced with potholes and with herds of goats and sheep grazing dangerously close to moving cars without a guardrail – and drive a few kilometers along a single-lane drive tracing its way across the top of the hillsides. We pass by a group of teenage boys setting themselves up to watch the sunset along a line of tall pines, a hookah and pot of tea balanced between them all. They wave as enthusiastically as little children, shouting greetings. We have been pleasantly surprised by the overwhelming hospitality of the people we meet here: the men who pull over on the highway and offer to take our photo as we appreciate a great view, the passersby who rush to assure us that the sounds we hear are not bombs, but fireworks celebrating the New Year, the many conversations about European football my fiance has with taxi drivers. There is a genuineness to the people here, an ease and openness that goes beyond the service industry standards which I do not often find when traveling. Probably, it comes with a culture sitting at the crossroads of the earth: nomadic desert folk who need to be opened to strangers in order to survive as a species. It has taken work for me to fight against an intrinsic fear I’ve been taught when the images of men in the traditional clothing of the Middle East are standing before me, going about their lives. There are constant reminders that this is just not a given, that taught fear wont serve me here or anywhere.

As we pull up to the farm at the end of the road, a Bedouin groundskeeper and his son appear, waving to us, then telling us he had closed for the day. We apologize and move to get back into the car, but he shakes his head and assures us “You are welcome, you are most welcome,” shaking my fiances hand.

He leads us to a covered cement structure, unlocking the heavy, bolted door. In the dim light, we can make out the mosaic patterns of what used to be the floor of a church. In the center, the colors are scared by burn marks, and he tells us that before the priests came and discovered the ancient workmanship, his family had used the convenient (and beautiful) flat surface as the floor of their tents when they arrived in the area. When the priests came to inspect the work, the paid for a proper home to be built for the family, as well as this structure over the mosaic to protect it.

After we leave the artwork, our guide catches my wandering eye and leads us to the crest of the hill to show us the neighboring ridges spotted with tents and ruins, even a sliver view of the Dead Sea, still reflecting the deepening sunset. Through broken English, he offers us each a cup of sugary tea which his son had already brought, then instructs us to sit down cross-legged together on the hilltop.

“Breathe.” He mimics slow, long intakes of breath with a pause between inhale and exhale. We all follow suit, in the same meditative silence we found on the top of Mount Nebo. The sounds of sheep bleating in the distance are drowned out as the final Call to Prayer of the day echoing through the hills. Our host mutters a few Arabic prayers as the sun slips below the horizon, the clouds become rosy and brilliant for a moment longer, and darkness starts to truly descend. The air becomes chilly, delicate.

We’ve finished our tea. We stand and his son takes our cups. As we linger a moment longer on the way to the car, the father stops, looks us in the eye and tells us that the real Muslims of the world are nothing like DASH (a regional name for ISIS). They are peaceful, welcoming and should not wish for warfare. My fiance and I nod. Syria and all the horrors being experienced there, is less than 75 kilometers away. It is strangely always the darkest, stormiest spot on the horizon: the north. It is a world away, yet always present. We don’t have enough shared language to discuss this, to speak to nuance. But we nod. We heard him, and will tell others. I think this is what he needs from us tonight.

As we drive back to the main road, the teenage boys are still sitting, smoking at the line of trees. When they see us approaching, they jump up, wave again, signalling us to stop and join them for a cup of tea. We smile and wave but keep driving: we’ve already learned that here in Jordan, if you stop for every cup of tea you’re offered, you probably won’t make it anywhere.

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For more reading on our trip to Jordan this winter, check out the full itinerary here, and tips for winter travel in the Middle East here.

Jordan in the Winter? The Pros and Cons

You’ve decided to travel to Jordan, but you’ve only got vacation time in the middle of winter. Here’s what you can expect, and what to consider.

Jordan is in the Middle East – that means a super hot desert all the time, right? But, wait – deserts get really really cold, too, don’t they? Is it even worth it to go in the winter?

After spending two weeks traveling Jordan at the end of December and beginning of January, here’s my personal experience of how the winter can affect your trip through this unique, beautiful country. (Spoiler: it’s not all bad.)

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Our desert camp in Wadi Rum, January

First, a Breakdown

We spent two full weeks in Jordan, from December 26th, 2016 to January 8th, 2017. Our full itinerary can be found here. We had one rainy day (in Amman), and lots of sunny days. The average daytime temp was around 10 degrees Celsius (50 Fahrenheit) and night times would dance around freezing. The warmest place we visited was the Dead Sea, thanks to the hills all around and low elevation.

Pros:

It’s off season: aka other travelers are relatively light. We’ve all experienced it: the most-anticipated ruin, the million-dollar photo-op, the supposedly-magical religious site; aka the top of your bucket list just not being as magical as you anticipated because there are just too many darn people mulling around. Not to say we never had a moment like this in Jordan, but traveling during the winter helped to thin out the crowds. Granted, I’ve been fighting my way through the hordes of tourists in Europe for the last few years, and this region is relatively less traveled, but there is nothing like actually walking alone down an ancient road in the city of Jerash, or Petra. You get one step closer to imagining life there thousands of years ago when you don’t need to try to ignore hundreds of other tourists taking selfies.

You don’t need to overthink modesty in chilly weather. When traveling in the Middle East, or any country where Islam is the main local religion, it’s important to consider your clothing choices. Out of respect for local customs and to avoid potentially marking yourself as a tourist and putting yourself at risk, covering shoulders, cleavage and legs (yes, that includes you too, men) is important. And in my experience, a heck of a lot more comfortable to pull off in January in Jordan than in October in Marrakesh! The sun shone nearly every day of our trip, and once it was in full force, it was comfortable enough to be in long sleeved shirts, but I never felt like a tank top or sun dress would be more comfortable. Layers will be your friend for early morning hikes into Petra, or an evening sampling some of the best food in Madaba, but not having to sweat it out while  respecting local customs was a plus.

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Early morning layers as we arrived at the Treasury in Petra. (Yes, we’re each wearing 2 jackets and long underwear.)

Cons:

Short days. We decided that we didn’t want to be driving at night – partly for safety and partly because we didn’t want to miss any incredible landscapes – so we made an effort to always arrive at our hotel by/within a half hour of sunset every day. Which happened to be around 4:30 in the afternoon when we were there. This left us having to plan our days carefully and rush through some things to ensure we made it back to home base each day. It also gave us long (and cold – see below) nights. Ultimately, it forced us to get really good night’s sleep and relax more, but it was a divergence from the daily routine of summer vacations.

Cold Nights. Now, the cooler days were manageable (and kind of refreshing with all the hiking and exploration we were doing) but the nights did get chilly (around the freezing point). And by chilly I really do mean there was an entire evening in a heat-less countryside hotel room spent in bed, cuddled up against each other, reading and waiting to be tired enough to fall asleep. In general, we found our accommodation comfortable, but it’s worth considering that in more budget-friendly hotels, heat may not be available (or work well) and the showers might be especially uncomfortable if it’s chilly in the room. If it’s really important to have these creature comforts, you might want to book something more expensive in the winter months.

This is especially important to consider in Wadi Rum. We got lucky on our overnight in the desert, but the extremes of the this ecosystem can swing to very cold during the winter. After we watched the sunset with our tour guides, we spent a lot of time in the communal tent drinking tea around the fire, which was cozy enough. But all meals on the tour were served outside, and the goat hair tent we slept in was so well insulated (and it had been so cold on recent nights) that it felt warmer OUTSIDE than in. Bring your long underwear!

The beach wont be the same. And I suppose this one is up for interpretation: from our balcony in Tala Bay on the Red Sea, we watched several newly-arrived Russians go for a sunrise swim while we shivered in sweaters and drank our coffee. In general, though, I’d say for most people in the world it wasn’t exactly lounging on the beach weather. A pesky north wind blew down on us the whole time we were at the Red Sea, making sun bathing less than optimal and forced us to rent wet suits for snorkeling. I’ve read, too, that in late January through February the Red Sea can get even cooler, so beware the dead of winter. The Dead Sea was more comfortable: even on a windy day, with the low elevation and hills all around, we were comfortable in our bathing suits by the water – though the heavy waves made bobbing in the water a little harder. (Also remember rules/customs governing modesty exist outside of tourist-heavy resorts: ie on public beaches.)

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Even if the weather wasn’t optimal for sun bathing at the Red Sea, there’s something pretty unique about sleeping in Jordan and being able to see both Egypt and Israel from your balcony.

All in all, I would say choosing to visit Jordan in the winter was a good decision for us and the season didn’t dampen out experience. It definitely beats going in the hottest months of the year, when the heat can be dangerously oppressive in Petra and Wadi Rum – though the beach relaxation might be more comfortable!

Jordan Itinerary (1)

Traveler’s Notebook: Home

After bouncing back and forth between two continents for nearly 3 years, I – and lots of people around me – have a lot of questions about what “home” even means any more.

I bought another one-way plane ticket (the fourth in three years). I’m going “home” again. May 29th, at 9:00 pm, I fly out. For “good” this time. Well, for residency (and hopefully work), at least.

I haven’t written about it much – I like to pretend it isn’t happening, to put my nose down, work as much as possible and try to squeeze in significant conversations with all of my friends in between – but I’m not actually in Italy these days.

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The central square in Legnano, the city in Italy I’ve been calling “home”.

I’m “at home”. Which is to say I’m in St. Paul, Minnesota. Living in the country which issues my passport, where I am a legal resident and currently allowed to work, and to whom I will always pay taxes, apparently. Living in the house I’ve lived in before (shout out to friends who have their lives together, have bought houses and offer me affordable rent without a long-term contract!), working at the restaurant I worked at before and waiting for my time on my tourist visa to renew again, as well as saving money for my wedding and the first few months in Italy when I’ll be job hunting.

This time, though, most of (or at least half of) my stuff is officially in a closet in Italy. My backup jeans. My favorite shoes. My camera (that one was actually an accident, but whatever). This, time, when I go back to Italy, I’ll be becoming a permanent resident, really living in Europe. Expatriating. Or immigrating? Which am I doing? What do they each mean? Semantics matter.

Which is making me consider my language a lot. There are a lot of subtleties that mean a whole lot to me right now, and which no one seems to notice but me. All of my coworkers asking me how my “trip” to Italy was when I got home in January, for example. (Not a trip! I wanted to shout: I lived there. I celebrated Christmas with a family that is becoming my own, I took the same bus every day! I’m going back! Life! Not vacation!) And I just don’t know what to say about the many meanings of “home” in my life. I can already hear my Papa, assuring me that he will always keep the fire lit in my childhood home in the forest of Northern Minnesota when I need it. And, of course, as anyone who had a beautiful and fulfilling childhood, I will to some extent always need it. But I’m also an adult woman who recently promised to marry and redefine family with another adult man, and home is shifting and changing yet again because of it.

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The yard of my parent’s house, January

This last week I went to visit friends who just bought a house in Fargo, North Dakota. While going around the table, trading stores over coffee, I was asked the question I’m getting asked over and over again lately: “What are you most excited about for going back to Italy?!” (Besides the obvious answer of seeing my fiance, everyone quickly giggles.)

I looked around at my friends who are truly doing amazing things. Buying homes. Starting graduate degrees. One has begun an impressive and essential career which involves trying to bring biodiversity back the prairies of North America in the face of climate change and invasive species. It’s so hard for me to grit my teeth and tell them that I am a waitress right now. OK, some days it’s great and I make amazing money. I appreciate the restaurant I work for, and with my current lifestyle – zipping in and out of the country for months at a time – I couldn’t be doing that much to build what I had of a career anyway, given my life choices. But most days (I should say nights), I’m working when my friends are free. I’m feeling physically tired, degraded and ready to do something bigger with my life.

I feel like I’ve watched my career, a career I was proud of and excited to see continue to grow, fizzle and slowly die out in the corner. Yes, yes I know: left. I quit and walked away, and chose to keep dating the handsome foreigner, which ultimately lead me to all of this. I’ve had agency all along. And I know there are flames I can coax back to life there. After all: I grew up in a house in northern Minnesota without an automated central heating system. I’m really good at building fires (aka finding a way to make the next step work), but for the moment, this is what I must keep doing. This is how I make my next step work.

And I get to say it: this part of the process really sucks.

The answer to the question my friend’s asked really is: I’m most ready to feel like my life is starting again. After the transition between place to place. The inability to fully commit to anything (besides a marriage) for the last three years. I’m ready to have routine and new purpose. To know how much money I’ll make in a given month and budget. All those boring things I had at 24, the things I walked away from and let slowly die and which I am now craving at 27.

Maybe all of that is what home means.

One reason travel works for me is that I’m good at adaptation. I’m good at nesting, getting comfortable, building routine and making myself “at home.” This is both beautiful and confusing to myself and those around me.

So, is home where I grew up, or where I most currently live? Is home where your blood flows through the people around you or where the love of your life sleeps at night? Is home where my Facebook profile tells you I live? Where most of my stuff is? Do I have to speak the language fluently to say it’s my home? Can I call the airplane seat or hostel bed I’m trying to fall asleep in a home?

I guess the simple answer is that lately it’s been all of that.

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A Two-Week, All-Jordan Itinerary

From relaxing on the Dead Sea, to exploring Roman ruins; from the ancient city of Petra to the magical Wadi Rum desert, there’s so much to fill your time in this small country, and this two week itinerary covers it all.

Yes, many people balked when my fiance and I told them we were planning a two week trip to Jordan, leaving the day after Christmas and staying into the new year. “The Middle East?” They asked. “Two weeks?” They questioned. “Is there even anything to do other than Petra?”

Beyond the most famous attractions, including Petra, the Dead Sea and Wadi Rum, there is so much to see and do: for the history buffs, to the adventure junkies and the spa aficionados. And after researching and planning a full two weeks, once we were on the ground, we found ourselves consistently amazed by what we experienced. In nearly every aspect, Jordan exceeded our expectations.

It should also be noted that we felt safe while we traveled. The locals were extraordinarily friendly, engaging and respectful and the police and security presence was obvious, but not overwhelming. It should be remembered that the government of Jordan has a vested interest in keeping tourists safe and comfortable, and considering their neighborhood, they’ve done a fantastic job. I would recommend Jordan as a tourist destination to anyone who loves desert landscapes, history and cultural immersions.*

Laid out below, in all it’s detailed glory, is our FULL two week itinerary in Jordan, for you to copy or cut from as you like! If you don’t have that much time, you can still hit a lot of the highlights in just a few days, thanks to the small amount of miles between sites and the density of incredible places within this historic country.

*I would of course recommend keeping up with the news and current events ANYWHERE in the world you’re planning on visiting in the weeks leading up to your trip, and exercise caution and good judgement when you are in the country. This guide was written based on experiences and conditions in December 2016, and in this part of the world much is subject to change quickly. But don’t be afraid just because a place is different and the biggest risk you’re taking is breaking down prejudices. There’s already too much fear flying around for that.

Day 1 – 2: Arrive and Explore Amman

Land, get that passport stamp (be prepared for the 40 JD visa you’ll need to purchase upon arrival!) and catch a taxi to your hotel in the center of the capital (about 25 minutes away from the airport). Stretch out your legs as you up and down the steep streets (just like Rome, Amman was originally built upon 7 hills) and eat some hummus and falafel before sleeping.

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The remains of the hand of Hercules, a part of the ancient Citadel complex in Amman, the city sprawling out beyond.

On your first full day in the country, really explore Amman. It’s a sprawling metropolis which has grown incredibly in the last decades and is filled with modern, hip Jordanians, displaced Palestinians and, increasingly, Syrian refugees. Visit the historic Citadel and the Jordan Museum to get a sense of the wide array of history packed into this tiny country, walk Rainbow Street and sit in some smokey, exotic hookah cafes sipping espresso. There are plenty of traditional restaurants, as well as modern, internationally-inspired places that would seem outright American if you were dropped into them without context – English Christmas music playing and all!

On the one hand, Amman is where most Jordanians actually live, and by being here you get a sense of what life is like for those who live here. On the other, (and we happened to visit on a particularly cold, rainy day, which didn’t help us love the city) Amman is a little dirty, very chaotic and doesn’t exactly set the stage for all of the amazing sites and activities Jordan has to offer. But it’s a good place to kick your tour off.

Day 3: Jerash

On the morning of the 3rd day, pick up your rental car and head north. The city of Jerash lies 30 miles north of Amman and the main highlight of the town is the ruins of the ancient Roman city.

With the fertile Jordan River Valley nearby, the ancient city of Jerash flourished and was among the Roman Decapolis cities, allowing the inhabitants to build and maintain some truly incredible structures. With several temples still mostly erect, two theaters, a hippodrome arena (featuring costumed, historical re-enactments if you come at the right time of year) and an impressively-long Cardo Maximus (paved road lined with columns), this huge ruin is truly magnificent and should be on anyone’s must-see Jordan list.

Give yourself at least 3.5-4 hours to fully appreciate and explore these ruins.

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You can sleep in Jerash if you want, but there is only one hotel in town (right across from the ruins) and we opted to drive another half hour to the city of Ajloun for the night.

Day 4: Ajloun, Jordan Valley & Salt

There are many different ways you can spend your fourth day in Jordan. The city of Ajloun may not be the most impressive, but the Muslim-built castle atop the hill is absolutely worth a visit. This impressive fortress controlled and defended the trade route between Damascus and Egypt, and provides incredible views of the surrounding valley, to Israel, Palestine and Syria.

You can spent the day hiking at the Ajloun Forest Reserve, or if you’d prefer to take a driving tour and see more of the countryside, head towards the Jordan River Valley, stopping at the relatively un-excavated, but impressively ancient ruins in the village of Pella, then drive south along the river, through the heavily populated towns and markets in the fertile valley.

If you have time, stop for a few hours in the city of Salt, a pretty market town featuring Ottoman-era architecture.

Arrive in your hotel in Madaba, where you will spend the next two nights.

Day 5: Madaba and Mt. Nebo

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Part of the incredible mosaic map of the Holy Land on the floor of the Greek Orthodox church in Madaba.

Spend the morning exploring the pleasant town of Madaba, visiting the ruins of incredibly well-preserved Byzantine-era mosaics unearthed throughout the region, including a beautifully detailed map of the Holy Land from Jerusalem and the Dead Sea to Egypt and the Mediterranean on the floor of the church of Saint George. Also walk to the Roman Catholic Church of Saint John the Baptist and descend underground to the ancient well, then ascend the bell tower for views of the region.

Before the sun sets, drive 15 minutes to Mount Nebo, the place where Moses first and finally saw the Promised Land, a place he knew he was destined never to reach. and some more impressively preserved and displayed mosaics in the hilltop church.

 

During this day, if you really want to take a Biblically-inspired tour, you can also use the afternoon to head south to Mukawir, the site of Herod’s palace and the beheading of John the Baptist, or seek out one of the spring said to have emerged from a place Moses struck the ground with his staff.

Spend this night in Madaba again, sampling another of the many excellent restaurants in town for dinner.

Day 6: The Dead Sea

Make time to stop at the Dead Sea Panoramic Complex on your way to the Dead Sea resort of your choice. Even if you don’t need the geology lesson, the views of the lowest point on earth are worth it.

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All of that said, check into your resort (and yes, even budget travelers: it’s worth it to spring for a resort here!) on the Dead Sea as early as you can, and spend at least the whole afternoon bobbing in the water, relaxing in the pool and reading on the beach. That night, get yourself a spa treatment, or at least pop into the sauna.

Day 7: Bethany Beyond the Jordan to Dana

On Day 7, you can either spend another half day lounging as long as you can in the salty waters of the Dead Sea, or you can get up as early as possible and visit Bethany Beyond the Jordan, the site of the baptism of Jesus. For us, it was January 1st, and it was a bright, sunny morning and we just couldn’t tear ourselves away from the beach and pool: no matter how wonderful and worthwhile everyone told us Bethany Beyond the Jordan is.

This afternoon, drive south along the Dead Sea Highway, enjoying the spectacular views at 400-plus feet below sea level. At the southern end of the sea, you’ll head east and meet the Kings Highway, an ancient trading route lined with olive trees and clustered with towns and cities.

We had planned on stopping in Karak to tour the crusader’s castle here. Unfortunately, there had been a recent standoff here between locals and police and we opted to avoid stopping in town.

As you drive south, the landscape becomes increasingly more desertous and you start to appreciate how important the fertile Jordan River valley really is to the region. Plan to arrive in the village of Dana before the evening settles in and find a spot along the dramatic cliff side to watch the sun set.

Day 8: Dana Wildlife Reserve

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Get up early and enjoy a big breakfast before descending for the day into the main wadi of the Dana Nature Reserve. The picturesque village of Dana perches upon the side of a cliff which looks down into this dramatic valley and a local revitalization project is aiming to bring villagers who left in the past decades back and rebuild the town. In the reserve, there are plenty of hikes, the most distinct follows the clear path that switchbacks up and down into the valley.

As you walk, keep an eye out for shepherds, wild animals and hawks.

Just remember: unless you’re going all the way to the Eco Lodge 16 kilometers on the other side of the valley, however far you go down, you’ve got to go back up!

It’s about an hour drive from Dana to Wadi Musa, the village outside of Petra, and if you have time and energy, make a stop to explore the crusader castle in Shobak.

Day 9: Petra

There is so much to say about this incredible Wonder of the World, and it deserves a post all on it’s own.

Here’s what’s most important: Prepare yourself for the 50 JD entrance fee (only 55 JD if you’re staying an extra day and going back into the ruins). Get up early to walk the kilometer through the cavernous Siq and see the sun rise over the Treasury, then give yourself at least a full day for exploration of the ancient city. There’s a lot of steps and a lot of walking involved in exploring Petra, so don’t plan to be anywhere other than your hotel in Wadi Musa for a hot shower and a relaxing night once you leave the ruins.

Day 10 – 12: The Red Sea

The drive between Wadi Musa and Aqaba takes about 2.5 hours and is incredibly barren. In fact, all of the landscape right up to the shoreline of the Red Sea are disconcertingly desolate, making the unbelievable diversity of the reef just below the surface that much more impressive.

Spend the afternoon of the 10th day relaxing by the sea at your hotel in the city of Aqaba or Tala Bay (slightly more remote, and closer to the reefs, which was what we opted for), enjoying that now you can see not only Israel, but also Egypt and Saudi Arabia from your window. On the 11th day, hire a guided snorkeling or diving tour, or rent wet suits and flippers and explore the array of aquatic diversity in the reefs here. We snorkeled from the Japanese Garden south about a kilometer to our hotel and saw some incredible marine life.

Day 13: Wadi Rum

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Wake up early and drive one hour to Wadi Rum village, where you’ll meet with you pre-arranged tour guide for a day and night in Wadi Rum. This dramatic desert landscape was first given notoriety by Lawrence of Arabia and has been at the crossroads for the nomadic Bedouin tribes who still live here for centuries. On a one-day tour, you’ll hop in the back of a jeep to see interesting rocks formations and ancient petroglyphs featuring camels and directions to springs, climb dunes and hike through canyons. At night, you’ll head to a traditional Bedouin camp for tea and stories around the fire, dinner and music into the night. Take some time to stand outside and appreciate the incredible night sky once the sun has set: there’s truly nothing like this landscape at night.

Day 14: Depart

The overnight tours of Wadi Rum should bring you back to the village early in the morning (check with your tour provider before booking, if you have doubts or a flight to catch), and it’s about a 4-hour drive on the relatively smooth Desert Highway back to the airport near Amman. You can fly out that evening, or opt to spend your final night back in Amman – or quieter Madaba, as we did. On our final morning, we purchased souvenirs and stretched our legs a bit more before heading home.


No matter how much time you can spend in Jordan, and no matter how you choose to spend that time, this small country – so full of history, culture and adventure – is sure to enchant and excite travelers, no matter their interests!

Did we miss your favorite spot in Jordan? Is there a better way around? Tell me about it in the comments!

Jordan Itinerary

Exploring the Italian Alps in Valley D’Aosta

Italy’s smallest region is packed full of incredible mountain vistas, rewarding hikes and historic castles, and it is definitely worth the visit.

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OK, so you’ve heard all about Rome, Venice and Tuscany. Possibly, you’ve even had the pleasure of seeing why these are the most popular tourist destinations in Italy. When you’re ready for a whole different take on la vita bella, however, I suggest the small, mountainous region of Valle d’Aosta. Tucked into the northwestern corner of Italy, with France and Switzerland (geographically and culturally) hugging close by, clusters of castles lining the valley floor, sweeping Alpine vistas everywhere and enough hiking or skiing to keep anyone busy outside, Valle d’Aosta is a rejuvenating divergence from city life.

You can still get view of the Roman Empire in the regions capital city: Aosta, Parco Gran Paradiso – the first national park in Italy – is filled with unique wildlife, and blocking the end of the valley is the monstrous Monte Bianco: the tallest mountain in western Europe.

Whether you want to wander historic cities, take a week-long trek or sample the hearty mountain food of the region, this off the beaten path destination will keep you busy. Here’s a run down of the must-see stops and attractions in the area from our four day weekend in October.

Forte Di Bard

As you enter Aosta from Piemonte, highway E25 makes a 90-degree, westward turn into the main valley. As the road twists through the mountains, suddenly the impressive stone Forte Di Bard rises before you, guarding the entrance to the strategic valley. Napoleon’s encroaching armies were held up by the castle’s defenders for more than two weeks, a resistance which frustrated him so much, he destroyed the entire structure after finally winning it.

Luckily, it has been rebuilt to it’s former glory, and it’s possible to climb the road through the charming Medieval town of Bard, then up the winding side of the cliff the fort perches atop. Alternatively, there is a modern, glass elevator you can ride up to visit the various artistic and historical exhibits throughout the many halls of the fort.

Castle in Fenis

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As you continue your drive through the valley, castle spotting becomes almost too easy. There were times when up to four castles could be seen at once along the road side! It’s hard to know which to take the time and stop for.

If you are looking for an easy answer it’s the castle in Fenis village. With turrets, guard wall and surrounded by cattle pens, there’s something quintessentially Medieval about this structure that made my heart sing. We missed the timing for a tour, but it’s possible to go inside and explore for 7 Euros.

Aosta

The largest city in the center of the valley is full of easily accessible Roman ruins, colorful houses and good food. When we walked into the central piazza of Aosta, I turned to The Fiance and said “I feel like I’m in Torino .” Beyond the fact that we happened to be visited durring the annual chocolate festival, Aosta has a similar sense of refinement and elegance, the mountains just happen to be a lot closer. There’s plenty of shopping here, and the historic center is easy to wander in a few hours.

For dinner, stop into the Osteria dell’Oca for traditional Aostian fare which is rich, hearty and perfect for a winter’s evening in the mountains.

After leaving Aosta, I recommend staying off the highway because though you’ll be traveling a little slower, the main road leads you through long, dark tunnels and you’ll start missing many of the incredible vistas.

We stayed near the village of Aymavilles, which allowed us to easily reach all of the following valleys easily and head back to Aosta for dinner every night, while still enjoying the mountain serenity we were looking for.

Valnontey, Gran Paradiso & Rhemes Notre Dame

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Entering Parco Gran Paradiso

With thick larch forests, dramatic glaciers, lots of wildlife and picturesque villages, Parco Gran Paradiso should be high on the bucket list for anyone who loves mountains. We took two drives into the park from the main valley of Aosta: towards the village of Valnontey at the more popular entrance of the park then towards Rhemes Notre Dame on the western side of the park, which we slightly preferred, perhaps because it was a little less touristy.

Both drives took under an hour, were filled with beautiful vistas that made me increasingly happy I don’t know how to drive a manual transmission car and could just look around me and were filled with hiking trails to branch out onto. From Valnontey, we climbed a few kilometers up the side of the mountain, spotting Alpine Chamois, past a waterfall and towards incredible vistas at the mountain summit.

Just past Rhemes Notre Dame, we walked on a more even-graded path along a river bed, through the brilliant fall colors of the larches.

No matter what, in solid European fashion, you are certain to find cute cafes to enjoy an espresso as you savor the views while considering your next move.

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The tiny village of Rhemes Notre Dame, where we seriously considered just buying a cabin for a lifetime of weekend getaways.

Mont Blanc

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No matter the language you’re discussing this impressive mountain in, the color descriptor is on point. Mont Blanc/Monte Bianco is the tallest mountain of the Alps, is situated in both France and Italy, and features some unique choices for traversing its imposing position. There is a 7.2-mile tunnel running directly through the mountain if you’re in a rush, as well as an incredible cable car which you can ride up and over the glacier that spreads across the wide summit, eventually touching down again in France (get in line early! Wait times can be tedious.)

Alternatively, the Tour do Mont Blanc (TMB) is an 170-kilometer, 11 day trek, passing through villages and mountain refuges across France, Switzerland and Italy, circling the entire mountain. It’s officially on the Bucket List for a future summer.

The city of Courmayeur is a little pricey – being a haven of ski resorts – but there are more valleys to the north and south along the imposing line of peaks along the range before you that offer plenty more hikes where you can spot glaciers and stop for a hot chocolate at a mountain refuge. We had hoped to go south to Val Veny to see what are some apparently amazing glaciers and lakes but the road was closed for the season. In the end, we were not disappointed by turning north and the hike to Rifugio Alpino Walter Bonatti, which took a little more than a hour to reach from the valley floor.

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Looking south to the peaks of Monte Bianco from the hike to Rifugio Walter Bonatti.

Even if you only have the time to drive through the spectacular Valle d’Aosta on your way to France or Switzerland, this tiny Italian region provides a unique divergence from the more traditional Italian tour, and you will certainly be rewarded for your divergence from the beaten path.

Valle d'Aosta (2) 

 

Off The Beaten Path in California

Sometimes it’s still hard for me to believe that I lived in Los Angeles for three years. It was the sort of place I never really considered visiting, much less making a home, but I’ve come to appreciate that life’s curveballs often offer the greatest rewards.

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An  evening in the Hollywood Hills

During the time I lived in California, I spent at least one weekend a month out of the City of Angeles, visited almost all of the National Parks in the state, tasted a lot of wine and climbed up a lot of mountains. I also went clubbing in Hollywood, took studio tours, went to live tappings of late-night talk shows, attended fancy rooftop parties and hiked to the Hollywood Sign (though I never did make it to Disney Land). Suffice to say, I made my way around the place.

If you are planning a trip to the Golden State, the most obvious tourist activities of Southern and Central California may be jumping out at you. But I’ve got a few off-the-beaten-path suggestions to get you away from the hordes of tourists and into the heart of California.

A Night at The Moth Story Slam

So I’m a bit of an NPR junkie. No matter where I am in the world, I’m usually streaming a live broadcast or have a horde of podcasts downloaded to help me pass the time. I’m also obsessed with real life stories and think radio is an incredible way to share common humanity (there’s just something about listening to someones voice – I hate, as a writer, to admit – that can be specifically impactful). Naturally, The Moth is one of my favorite things on the radio: random strangers getting on a stage and telling true, unscripted stories. In Los Angeles you can attend a live Moth Story Slam and listen to an hour and a half of these incredible stories in an intimate setting. It’s a different, more raw take on the many forms of entertainment that you can seek out in Los Angeles: you never know what you’re gonna get, but you’ll always be surprised.

For more information and schedules check out The Moth’s website. Do make sure to get in line early if it’s not a ticketed Main Stage event, as the smaller venues fill up pretty quickly.

Paso Robles Wineries

Ok, you’ve heard of Napa Valley. It’s elegant, the wine is delicious: it’s the it place. But there are many reasons my friends and I opted for many a weekend trip to the vineyards of Paso Robles over California’s more well-known wine regions.

Firstly, location. Paso Robles is situated exactly between LA and the Bay Area (about 3.5-4 hour drive from either direction) making it pretty convenient for a long weekend away. It is surrounded by beautiful rolling hills, which happen to be perfect mirco-climates for wine cultivation.

Secondly, it’s totally accessible to a burgeoning wine-o. When I first came to Paso, I knew I liked wine, but I didn’t know a darn thing about tasting, making, or the wine itself. Over the next two and a half years I learned so much from the wine makers here, partly because I felt like I could ask them even simple questions and get nonjudgmental answers. These people are proud of their craft. The cost is also accessible, ranging closer to $5 for a tasting of 5-7 wines rather than $15 or $20 as a starting price.

A few of my favorite wineries (there are so many, you could drive around for a week and not stop at them all) are Midnight, Cass and Whalebone, partly for ambiance but mostly for the wine.

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Cambria

Thirty minutes west of Paso Robles is the town of Cambria, a picturesque village along the coast. Not only is the drive through the hills between the two cities stunning, I also just love the cute, artsy vibe of this town. It’s full of amazing restaurants, unique B&B’s, crafty shops and beautiful walkways along the rugged coastline.

From here you can also travel just a few minutes up the coast to the spectacularly strange Hearst Castle and marvel as the monstrous elephant seals that congregate all year long at Piedras Blancas beach near San Simeon.* You can also find the tiny town of Harmony (population 18) just to the south, nestled between the hills.

*Peak Season for seal viewing is December-March, and depending on when you come, a whole different group of seals might be hanging out, from juveniles, to terrifying males ready to mate, to new mothers with infants. I’ve never NOT seen seals here, though. 

Malibu Beaches

Say Malibu and images of wealth, luxury and movie stars come to mind. And it’s true: you’ll find some of the highest-priced real estate value in the country in this stretch of a “city” up the Pacific Coast Highway from Santa Monica. You’ll also find some really dramatic beaches, like El Matador State Beach with it’s intriguing cliffs and rocky outcrops (and possibly find a photo or music video shoot – sorry, I mean almost definitely walk into one).

The water in Malibu is usually a few degrees colder than Santa Monica – and I get it: I’m from Minnesota and grew up swimming in Lake Superior, but if you can brave the water here, I’ve found it to be much cleaner than to the south. As a bonus, while I’ve swam here, otters and dolphins have popped their heads up within 10 feet of me. Not to mention, from the shore at Zuma Beach, I’ve seen pods of whales feeding all afternoon.

King’s Canyon National Park

Often overlooked in favor of Yosemite or Sequoia National Parks, King’s Canyon is a little harder to get to (ie: a longer drive) but it is truly magnificent. The High Sierras should be on anyone’s California bucket list, and though there is certainly a reason Yosemite is the most popular of the National Parks, if you’re looking to break away from the intensity of the crowds in Yosemite Valley, I would highly recommend Kings Canyon as an alternative.

You still get the towering, majestic Sequoias. You still drive into a valley surrounded by granite cliffs. There is camping, lodges and tons of back-country exploration, pristine mountain lakes and rivers dotted across the landscape. In particular, my friends and I enjoyed the hike to Mist Falls, a moderately challenging but rewarding walk that leads through the valley floor, up the cliffs to an incredible waterfall, and beyond.

California is an American classic, and there is plenty to explore in the big cities, movie studios and theme parks. There are also hidden gems across the state, where the locals are vacationing, and they are absolutely worth your stop, too.