Once a year for four months, the pine and oak forests of the UNESCO-protected Biosphere Reserve, high up in the Transatlantic Volcanic Belt outside of Mexico City, come alive. Starting in early November, on the Day of the Dead, millions of monarch butterflies arrive after their 3,000-mile journey from eastern Canada and the United States to mate … creating one of the most majestic natural wonders in the world.
The butterflies clump together for warmth when the sun is hiding.
It all started in December when I realized I wanted to start off 2016 the way I wanted to end it — traveling and being inspired. I’ve always wanted to see the butterfly migration; when I was a child growing up in Ohio, the butterflies would sometimes pass through on their way to Mexico, and it was awe-inspiring to see football fields full of them — and I wanted to revisit that on a grander scale. I knew I had to go see the migration in Mexico.
My friend Trisha lives in Los Angeles, Jackie lives in Dallas, and I am in New York City — basically, it’s hard to get together. So when Trisha suggested a girls getaway in Ojai, Calif., just 75 miles north of Los Angeles, Jackie and I jumped.
At first I was skeptical.
Ojai has gotten an annoying rap in the past as a healthy, vegan, spiritual hippie hangout.
And there are still some things that make you roll your eyes and giggle a bit. The “No Talking!” signs posted alongside the anti-cellphone warnings at the famed Meditation Mount lookout are a bit much, as are the plethora of signs warning you that everything is organic. (Doesn’t it all become a little like a double negative after a while? Like: “organic organics,” “vegan organic,” “farm fresh organic vegan.” At some point you just want to say, “Come on — I know this is all made from genetically modified cow hoofs!” Except, fun fact, vegans don’t have the most developed sense of humor and probably wouldn’t think that’s funny. Must be the lack of protein.) Or the shops that sell dream catchers alongside crystals and spiritual self-help books.
But I was about to get schooled.
The Ojai Valley Inn is a little slice of heaven. (Photo: Ojai Valley Inn & Spa)
James Bond loves it, Formula 1 loves it, and it just got the coveted No. 1 spot on the New York Times’s “52 Places to Go in 2016” list — it’s official: Mexico City is hot right now.
After years of suffering through a bad reputation — pollution, overcrowding, and crime — the city has pulled itself up by its bootstraps and become a leader in the arts, gastronomy, and cultural excursions. With 150 museums (many of them either free or costing just a few dollars) and four UNESCO sites, Mexico City is a historical culture lover’s dream. Even better, with a strong dollar (the exchange rate is now around 17 pesos to the dollar), it’s more affordable than, say, a jaunt to Europe — or even Los Angeles. And, as of Jan. 1, U.S.-Mexico aviation restrictions, which capped the number of airlines that could fly on the U.S.-Mexico routes, have eased, and carriers like JetBlue are now doing nonstop flights to the capital, making trips easier than ever.
Earlier this Week, ISIS destroyed at 1400 year-old monastery in Mosul, Iraq, but last year they did their most damage – razing the oldest monastery in the country, Mar Behnam and several others – as well as looting the ancient Assyrian towns of Ninevah and Nimrud, cornerstones of human history.
I visited the biblical city of Nimrud in 2011 and it was palpably magical—made even more so because so few people were ever able visit the site—first due to Saddam Hussein’s government and then due to war.
Built in 1274 B.C., it was made the capital of the Assyrian empire in 883 B.C. and a 5 mile long wall was constructed, surrounding the city and palace. Huge Lamassu, large winged beasts with the body of an ox or lion and the heads of men, lined the palace entry and inside were carved scenes of life painted in many colors. Interestingly, along the outer walls, inscriptions were carved including:
“The palace of cedar, cypress, juniper, boxwood, mulberry, pistachio wood, and tamarisk, for my royal dwelling and for my lordly pleasure for all time, I founded therein. Beasts of the mountains and of the seas, of white limestone and alabaster I fashioned and set them up on its gates.”
“Silver, gold, lead, copper and iron, the spoil of my hand from the lands which I had brought under my sway, in great quantities I took and placed therein.”
“Many of the captives I have taken and burned in a fire. Many I took alive; from some I cut off their hands to the wrists, from others I cut off their noses, ears and fingers; I put out the eyes of many of the soldiers. I burned their young men, women and children to death.”
“I flayed the nobles as many as rebelled; and [I] spread their skins out on the piles.”
Yesterday, ISIS destroyed St. Elijah’s, a 1400-year-old Christian monastery just outside of Mosul – part of their mission to obliterate history and anything that doesn’t fit into their warped version of Islam. Back in 2011, I actually visited St. Elijah’s monastery – and one that was even older, the 1700-year-old Mar Behnam Monastery and Convent – a Syriac Catholic compound also containing a chapel and two shrines and was filled with priceless artworks.
The shrines of the Christian martyrs, Behnam (left) and his sister Sarah (right), mark where the brother and sister died and had stood in various forms on this hill since the 4th century.
There had been a shrine on the hill outside of Beth Khdeda (near Mosul) since the 4th century, built by the pagan Assyrian king Senchareb as a penance for killing his son Behnam and daughter Sarah after they converted to Christianity… until March 2015, when ISIS leveled the place to the ground.
Both shrines – Mar Behnam and Marth Sarah, were blown up by ISIS on March 19, 2015.
The pictures below are all that’s left of what was once was an integral chapter in human history. Inside the chapel and shrines were examples of art and architecture rarely seen anywhere else in the world – carvings that seamlessly blended Muslim and Christian designs and one of the few Middle Eastern examples of Uigher inscriptions, left by Mongol traders and pilgrims as they made their way from China to Europe on trade routes. The walls and artwork were living history – and contained pieces from almost every century since it was built.
The buildings are now gone and the art destroyed or presumably sold off to shady people who may house them in a back room of their many mansions (yes, my imagination is getting away with me, but it’s my website!), but looking at these photographs should remind us that Iraq has been, up until recently, the cradle of civilization. It was a religiously tolerant place where Muslims, Christians, Yazidis and even Jews lived side by side until it erupted into chaos.
Everyone on Waikiki Beach knows “Uncle” Billy Pa. At 76, he’s been surfing the shores in front of the Royal Hawaiian hotel for decades and was part of the original Beach Boys (not the band!) — the group of local surfers who brought the sport to the rest of the world.
Hanging loose with Billy.
In the 1950s, Billy and his friends, including the Duke, a legendary surfer considered to be the father of modern-day surfing, started teaching tourists to ride the waves to earn some extra cash, and he’s been here ever since, surfing and teaching for the Waikiki Beach Services.
Not only can Billy surf, but he’s also the best teacher on the beach — you might remember from earlier episodes that surfing is not my forte.
But unlike Puerto Rico, there was no storm coming in, and the waves on Waikiki Beach were calm and easy. With Billy’s help and encouragement, I got up on my first, second, third, and fifth try.
Billy’s boards on Waikiki Beach.
But perhaps even better than surfing with Billy is hanging out with him and hearing his stories of back in the day, when surfing was still relatively unknown and he, the Duke, and the other Beach Boys would bum around the sand, getting paid to do what they love.
“I started on an old redwood board,” Billy said. “We would all share the boards — if one person had a board, he was everyone’s friend. We would grab rides to the beach and surf all day, sometimes five guys sharing one board — and then one day we started getting paid to do it. It was great!”
It’s his experience and his love of his sport that makes Billy the best surf master out there. Not only can he help anyone get up on a board, but is also patient enough to wait all day if he has to. If you ever find yourself on Waikiki Beach in Oahu, look him up. You will regret it if you don’t.
When people visit Hawaii, they usually go to Oahu, Maui, or, for adventure, the Big Island. Every so often, those who can afford the Four Seasons will stop off at Lanai, the island where Bill Gates got married … but very rarely do you hear people say, “I’m off on holiday to Molokai.”
And the locals are just fine with that.
“We don’t want the cruise ships here,” local musician and ukulele godLono said. “It would ruin our culture like it has with the other islands.”
Hawaii is the land of Pele, the volcano goddess. Known for her temper, she can erupt and destroy — but in doing so, she also creates. All the islands started from a surge of Pele’s temper, but only on the Big Island can you still see daily vestiges of it.
Inside Hawaii Volcanoes National Park is the Kilauea volcano, the most active volcano on earth, which, according to the National Park Service, produces 250,000 to 650,000 cubic yards of lava per day — enough to resurface a 20-mile-long two-lane road daily. Thanks to Kilauea, about 500 acres of new land have been created on the island of Hawaii since 1983. And no one knows whether the current eruption will last another century or stop tomorrow.
The lava ate this road for lunch. (Photo: Paula Froelich)
While it is beautiful — and the Kilauea Caldera glows every night as if alive — it is also terrifying. An eruption last year threatened the town of Pahoa, and in 1990, the town of Kalapana was completely destroyed. By the coast, just north of Hilo, are the remains of old roads whose white and yellow lines still peek out from under lava rock, and if you drive even farther north, you can see where homes once stood.
Park ranger Jessica Ferracane showed me the Caldera before taking me to the belly of the beast — the lava tubes.
The tubes, which look like long caves, are formed “a lot like a river that ices over in the winter,” Ferracane says. “As the lava pours down, the edges of the tube start to cool and harden; eventually you are left with these tubes.”
Inside the lava tubes … it’s like a bat cave with no bats (thank God). (Photo: Paula Froelich)
Walking through the tubes is like walking on the inside of a volcano, and for a science geek (like me) it’s fascinating to see the inner workings of a landmass that many across the world refer to as “the gates of hell.”
Despite the ever-present threat, residents, aware of the danger but in love with the land, take it in stride.
“It’s part of life here,” Ferracane says, shrugging, “and we love it.”
In mid July every year, all over Mongolia, business in the boomtown capital of Ulaanbaatar and in the tiny towns dotting the country comes to a standstill — as day laborers, miners, shopkeepers and almost every man, woman, and child head to their yurts to prepare for the Naadam Festival.
