Category Archives: Travel

When you get home from a trip, it’s time to properly wash your whites

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After a trip, I have always been one of those maniacal people who need to unpack everything right away as soon as I get home. I want all the dirty clothes put in the wash. I want all toiletries put away. I need all souvenirs or edible things separated and stored properly. I also want travel things like travel bag compartments, totes, backpacks, and luggage put away, stat. The idea behind this is that I want to relax as soon as possible and be in a calm state of mind, and I won’t be able to have any of that unless everything dirty gets cleaned, and everything that needs to be put away is put away.

Well, I’ve added one additional thing to my list ever since I decided to start embracing white clothing a year ago: if I bring white clothing with me, I NEED to set aside time to wash them properly. This means whipping out my trusty Jamaican blue soap bar, scrubbing visible stains with the blue soap, soaking in a bucket, rinsing, and then throwing into the washing machine. It’s an additional step, but I am getting a satisfying kick out of this process. It really only applies to several garments of clothing, plus my white slip-on AllBirds, but I always love the feeling of looking at my whites after they’ve come out of the wash and laying them out to air dry and hopefully further be bleached whiter by the sun.

Maybe it’s a sign of getting older that I’ve embraced this little menial and annoying task that I avoided like the plague for so much of my life. I think the last time I intentionally bought a pure white garment was maybe over ten years ago. And before that, it was in college. And I barely wore those pants from over ten years ago because I didn’t understand how to clean it properly then, and I got so mad at how the stains would never come out in the washing machine on their own. Now, I take real ownership of my whites and do my best to keep them super white! I’m sure my former Jamaican nanny would be proud!

My very first cacao fruit — in Honduras

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Few things excite me more than discovering new food, and especially new fruit, while traveling. I love that different countries and and climates have different fruits that can only be grown in certain areas. Some people are upset by this, as they believe that globalization should enable anyone anywhere to get whatever produce they want anytime they want, but I think that’s just unrealistic given how delicate and sensitive some of these fruit and vegetables are. Indian mangoes are a great example: while many are being exported to the U.S. from India, it’s a huge gamble which of them are actually intact once they make it to stateside. Many would have rotted in transit, and they all need to be sprayed to prevent infestation. The one time we bought a box of Indian mangoes in New Jersey and brought it back home, I still remember one of them never ripened, while a couple others were rotted and black. There’s a no-returns policy on these, so it’s fully at your own risk!

While in Guatemala on our day trips to Antigua and Lake Atitlan, I talked to our driver about cacao fruit, and he had mentioned that locals did buy it to eat the fruit around the cacao beans. We saw it at a few fruit stands there, but the road conditions and traffic were unpleasant, and so I never asked our driver to stop. In Ecuador in July, our driver who took us to Quilotoa Crater Lake told us that one of his sons absolutely loves cacao fruit and that it’s one of his favorites, so he gets it just for him. My interest was piqued; I needed to try cacao fruit at least once!

So when we passed several street-side vendors selling the fruit, I asked Javier our driver if that was in fact cacao, and he confirmed it was. So we stopped by a fruit vendor, and from there, I was given a cacao and chose the ripest possible mango (out of likely over 20 that were ROCK hard!) given we had less than 24 hours left here. I just spent over $2 USD on local Honduran fruit, and I was extremely, extremely thrilled.

Back at the hotel last night, I asked if someone from the kitchen could help me cut the cacao in half. I got it back and scooped out all the cacao seeds (beans), which were covered in a thin, custardy white layer — this is the fruit! Chris and I shared the fruit since Kaia seemed extremely uninterested in it, and I didn’t feel like pushing her given it was a potential choking hazard. The flavor was sweet first, then a little tart, with a custardy texture and finish. Chris remarked that he wished there was more flesh to eat, which I agreed with. The more I thought about it, the more the flavor and texture reminded me of the cherimoyas we had while in Peru. Cherimoyas are a lot less work and far more flesh to eat, though! The act of sucking off the flesh from around the beans — this was definitely reminiscent of the mamoncilla fruit we ate while in Colombia and El Salvador. Those seeds were extremely large and round (super big choking hazard!), with a thin, bright pink flesh.

Fruit adventuring while traveling is one of the best things. Now I can finally say I’ve tried cacao the fruit!

Coral reef scrapes, the painful burn, and the 4-year-old who wants to ice mama’s butt

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Given that I am a city person through and through, I guess it’s no wonder that I’ve always had a fear of deep water, especially the ocean water. I’m a human being living on the land; by definition, the ocean is a foreign place to me because I cannot live in the ocean. And for all you people out there who love swimming in the ocean and think you are really a mermaid, reality check: you are not! So on the three previous times I’d been snorkeling and saw very, very deep water and can tell the ocean floor is extremely far below me, I occasionally have this tiny wave of panic come over me and just hope to some higher power that my leg doesn’t cramp up or my life vest does not suddenly fail. So then I take a deep breath and keep swimming.

This morning was our last morning in Roatan and our last chance to be at the beach before taking a plane to San Pedro Sula, where we’ll be until midday Monday. No one is going to complain about a last beach outing, and I wanted to seize the moment and go snorkeling one last time. So we went to the beach for a couple hours before packing up and heading to the airport. Chris did not share the desire to go snorkeling again, so when I went out, it was just me while he stayed ashore with Kaia.

This didn’t really bother me that he didn’t want to go out again. The water is pretty calm and virtually waveless. It’s really the perfect place to go snorkeling without supervision or help. So I went out on my own. For a long time, it felt really nice. I saw a lot of the same fish as yesterday, and this time, I saw even more schools of different fish varieties. But then suddenly out of nowhere, I got hit by a wave that I didn’t anticipate, and I got pushed into a really shallow (and seemingly dead) stretch of coral. Then, I got pushed into a sitting position — on top of the dead coral. This was a really shallow area — the water was barely even two feet deep here. I kept looking around to see where I could swim to escape the coral — it almost looked endless no matter which way I looked. How the hell was I supposed to get off this thing?! I eventually got out of the area and into open water, but I could tell that I had more than just a few nicks and scrapes. Something on my right butt cheek was burning, and it was definitely from stupidly sitting on the coral. I mean, it wasn’t like I meant to do that, but it just kind of happened…

This is why the ocean can be dangerous: you have no idea what is lurking out there that does not want you in its space. And they will do things to you to harm you if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swam quickly back to shore, where Kaia immediately noticed scrapes bleeding on my right leg and asked me about my “boo boo.” I went to the restroom to properly clean my scrapes and examine my wounds. The scrapes were fine — they looked like any other scrape. But the wounds that were on my right butt cheek were another story: they were bright red, puffing, pulsing, and burning. And this feeling was not reducing in the least bit even after I washed the area and tried to pour clean, cold water on it. After a shower, the pulsing pain and burning persisted. So en route to the airport, I told Chris we needed to stop by a pharmacy to see if I could get an ointment for this. I explained to a pharmacist what happened, and she gave me a hydrocortisone cream to apply on my scrapes. When we eventually got to our hotel in San Pedro Sula, the hotel manager was really kind and made me an ice bag, and I applied that to my butt for a bit in our room before we went out for dinner.

Kaia insisted on helping me ice my butt: “Mama, I wanna ice your butt!” She shrieked multiple times. So I let her push the ice bag against my butt while I lay on the bed. She’s always looking for ways to be helpful, and I know she has a very strong, caring, nurturing side to her (I’ve lost count of the number of times she checks in with me on random “boo boos” she finds on my body, when she asks if something hurts, and when she cares for all the dolls at school when it’s activity center time). I find it really sweet and endearing, and hope she continues to be caring and attuned to others’ feelings.

After dinner out at Power Chicken (a local fast food chain favorite with huge portions!), we showered and slept. But I still couldn’t sleep. The pulsing pain and burning was not improving. And now when I scratched it, there was a very deep pain that would result from that. The ice bag was not a proper ice pack, so I couldn’t sleep with it without wetting the bed eventually. So after 1.5 hours of burning and pulsating, I finally came up with the idea of taking the cold plastic water bottles in our fridge and using them as a pseudo ice pack setup. The fridge was cold enough, so I was finally able to fall asleep.

And… I tried falling asleep hoping this wasn’t some insane outlier coral reef scrape infection that would end in sepsis and potentially kill me.

Sloths, extremely premium coffee, and lunch in a mangrove

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We started our first full day in Roatan at Daniel Johnson’s Monkey and Sloth Hangout, where you can see and interact with monkeys, sloths and parrots up close. There was a time when the Hangout would allow you to hold a sloth for a few minutes, but unfortunately (for us, anyway), Honduras passed a law prohibiting this. Sloths are native to Honduras (mainland), but not to Roatan. The sloths and monkeys at the Hangout were all rescued. Some came from abusive, dirty, dingy environments. Some of the monkeys were even former pets of people who just tired of them (that type of thing makes my blood boil).

The sloths, for the most part, were… sloths. They were mostly sleeping, occasionally waking up to look at us and scratch themselves. “Sloths don’t do anything. They’re lazy. Sloths are just like koalas, just uglier,” Chris remarked. While it could be interpreted as a bit mean, he’s got a point. We watched them on their trees, and then eventually moved on to see the green and scarlet macaws up close. The macaws, if given an incentive (something tasty), would fly onto people’s heads and arms. For the second time in my life, I got to have a macaw perch on my arm. She was a lot lighter than I thought she would be. It’s likely my dad’s influence since he loves birds and most animals, but I’ve always loved these creatures. Seeing this scarlet macaw up close with her beautiful vibrant red, yellow, and blue feathers, all so tightly preened, was so much fun. Kaia was a little scared when she saw the macaws and didn’t want to get too close, but when she saw one on my arm, she immediately was intrigued. I think she is definitely more like me than Chris in this regard: Chris doesn’t care to get close to any animal unless it’s on his plate. Kaia loves looking at and petting animals.

The last stop was the spider monkeys cage, which we were warned could potentially result in us getting pooped or peed on. Given we were already there, I figured I’d be okay with that risk. Plus, I wanted Kaia to experience getting close to the monkeys. The monkeys would jump from person to person, either on our heads or shoulders, in a circle. While the monkey never climbed on top of Kaia, a monkey did get on top of me, which Kaia was super excited about and giggled endlessly for. I just loved seeing her reactions to the different animals and hearing all the questions she would ask about them and what they were doing. This animal experience definitely piqued her curiosity.

After the Hangout, we made a stop at the beautiful Spirit Origin Coffee, where we enjoyed an extremely meticulous and premium coffee tasting flight (that cost almost $50 USD!). We got to see views of the water on both sides of the building. And while I sat with Kaia on a comfy couch overlooking the ocean and we took turns drawing on her doodle pad, Chris got to sit at the coffee bar and listen to explanations of how the coffee was made and the stories behind it. I occasionally went up to the bar to share tastes and also to sniff the differences between the whole beans versus the ground beans. In all three bean scenarios, the ground vs. whole scent was a world apart! I never would have guessed the grounds were from the same whole beans. This place is so fancy that they even do a coffee omakase experience, where downstairs, you can have a full tasting menu meal with a coordinated cup of coffee to go with each course. They sent us home with two packets of coffee — each valued at about $9 USD each. The 12 oz. bags range in price from $36 to $69; we’ve never paid that much for coffee in the U.S., so I think this definitely gave us a sense of exactly how luxurious this Honduran coffee truly was.

And after the very premium coffee stop, our next stop… was a confusing one because Chris didn’t know how we’d get to the restaurant he wanted us to get to. The land ended, and there was water we’d have to go through to get to this, place, and it was unclear how we’d do that. The further east side of the island is far more local and residential feeling. We were driving in a very grassy area when a random guy came out of nowhere and asked us where we were trying to go. Chris told him he was looking for a specific restaurant that was out in the mangroves, so this man told us that we could pay $10 to park in this private spot (a patch of grass in front of someone’s house), and his friend would help boat us over to the bar. We went through the mangroves and onto a rickety floating bar setup to eat some fried pork, fried red snapper, and tostones, all in the company of the bar attendant and another local. They were likely wondering how the hell we even found this place. But Chris does like to work his magic. The food was really good and fresh. The service was very friendly and helpful; everyone was warm and spoke excellent English. And we got to have lunch in the middle of a mangrove — how often does this happen? Kaia even got to see a baby jellyfish up close because our boat guy found a tiny one and flipped it over so we could see its tentacles up close.

And with that, we went back to West End to pick up some excellent jerk chicken from Anthony’s Chicken & More and then went back to the hotel for more sunset pool time (and more fighting over the floaties between mama and Kaia, then a delicious dinner in our temporary apartment.

We’re not normally resort people, but I must say that I really, really love this hotel property. I love the pool setup and how it’s steps away from the beautiful white sand beach with clear waters. The service has been extremely warm and hospitable. I love the decor and the layout and the different types of living setups, from regular hotel rooms to apartments with balconies to bungalows. And I even love the little details, like the bathroom layouts in the common areas and the open circle swings randomly placed inside. I love that you can see the ocean and the sunset right from the hotel pool, and we’ve been able to enjoy that to get in our “resort time.” I also like that the resort fee includes rentals of snorkeling equipment (everything from the snorkels to the fins) and life vests — and even sand castle building tools! This is very important for my little Pookie!

First day in Roatan, Honduras

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After a bleary eyed 6am flight, then a connecting flight in Miami, we reached Roatan at about midday local time. Chris decided that to be cost efficient and more flexible for transportation that we’d rent a car for our time on the island, so we got our rental car, then had to switch rental cars because Apple Play was not working. It was actually funny when Chris realized this while in the driver’s seat; he asked me to find the attendant who helped us. I got out of the car and told the attendant, to which he shrugged indifferently and said, “Well, that car’s Apple Play doesn’t work, so, eh?” So in other words, he knew but he didn’t really care. Yes, that may be no big deal for him since he’s a local, but we’re tourists who have never been there, so we kind of need the map navigation help, buddy!

We got to our hotel, where we were escorted via golf buggy to our one-bedroom apartment/suite. Whenever we get larger hotel rooms with multiple rooms or suites, I always have multiple thoughts in my head, the main ones being: 1) I’m very grateful for the luxurious experience, as I am extremely cognizant that most people either cannot afford to have these rooms or would never be given complimentary upgrades the way we have on countless occasions, and 2) the one that seems to stick with me the most is that most of these suites/apartments would be multiple times the sizes of average New York City apartments. When you are used to living in small spaces and are temporarily given very large spaces to enjoy, that in itself feels like a luxury and a privilege. The apartment already had a roller bed laid out neatly for Kaia. In the apartment was separate one bedroom, a full bathroom, a large living/dining area, a full kitchen with all the utensils/appliances you could possibly ask for (even a blender and a toaster!). The cherry on top was the large balcony, which overlooked the resort and ocean. It was well appointed with a couch and a table and chairs for dining.

We ended up going out to the West End for some lunch and walking. West End is a short drive from the West Bay Beach area where we’re staying — it’s set up like a little seaside village, with a leisurely vibe and walking strip that runs along the water and beach. We stopped at a local’s spot for the unofficial national dish of Honduras: the baleada. Given it was lunch time, I ordered one stuffed with fried pork, one with beef and avocado. Both came with refried beans, mantequilla (sour cream), and cheese on the inside. I also got two fresh juices, one papaya and one pineapple, plus a side of plantains. Interestingly, the plantains order was half-half: one half was very ripe and sweet, while the other half was more raw and savory. Chris appreciated this because he prefers the less ripe plantains, but I always obsess over the sweet ones. The baleadas were very satisfying: the tortilla was griddled really well with slight char bits on the outside, and the innards were soft, pliable, and fluffy. And predictably, Chris did make his chapati comparison.

After lunch, we walked along the water and ended up sitting at a local popular coffee spot. They use 100% Honduran beans, which was exactly what we wanted. We ordered a vanilla frappe and an iced latte, both were very smooth and well made. As was similar during our time in El Salvador and Guatemala, you can definitely eat relatively cheap while in Honduras if you really want to (a basic baleada, depending on where you get it from, can be as little as $1.50 USD), but coffee is quite pricey everywhere, as though you are buying it in the U.S.

We made our way back to the hotel for late afternoon pool time. The pool is laid out really well at our hotel and is just steps from the famous and crystal clear West Bay Beach. And lucky for us, there weren’t that many people in it. I was able to grab my newly identified half-body floaty… and wait for Kaia to try to take it from me multiple times. So we got to have some water time (and Kaia got to have some floaty and “starfish” time) right at sunset. I have a feeling sunset pool time will become a temporary ritual for us while we’re here in Roatan.

Honduras bound for an extended Memorial Day weekend

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We’re slowly but surely making our way through Central America. Tomorrow, we leave for Honduras — specifically, about three days in Roatan, the largest of the Bay Islands right in the Caribbean, and then about 1.5 days in the San Pedro Sula area on the mainland. I hadn’t shared with that many people that I was going to Honduras this weekend. But the very few times I did, I was either met with total crickets as though I said nothing, or “I don’t normally say this, and you know me. But… just be careful when you’re there.” I felt excited to be going to a place that not a single person I knew had been before.

Roatan is actually a major stop for massive cruise ships that go through the Caribbean, so for Westerners who like cruises in the Caribbean, it may be a known spot. It’s the largest of the Bay Islands, which were once a former British colony (and before that, inhabited by the local Paya people, and decimated by the Spanish). Though the British colonization was relatively brief, that had a lasting impact on the islands, as English proficiency is extremely high there relative to mainland Honduras. Roatan is also known for having crystal clear waters and having beaches where you don’t have to swim too far out to see parts of the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef, the largest coral reef system in the Western hemisphere.

Honduras is also very famous for its biodiversity, as well as its coffee, which we’ve grown to love and taste more and more since our 2019 Colombia trip. Honduras is the largest coffee producer in all of Central America and the sixth largest coffee producer in the world. Oddly enough, though, we rarely see Honduras on coffee bean bags we’ve seen or bought. From Central America, at least here in the U.S., we’re more likely to see the bean origin being from Guatemala or Costa Rica. I added a bunch of coffee spots to our saved maps list, and I’m eager to see what Honduran coffee is all about.

Baleadas, which are thick tortillas that are cooked on a griddle, usually stuffed with refried beans, mantequilla (their version of sour cream), cheese, and different proteins like fried pork, beef, or eggs, are an unofficial national dish of Honduras that I’m looking forward to trying. I’m waiting for us to have it for the first time and for Chris to predictably remark that it’s like a chapati or paratha… because he likes to think all flat breads cooked on a griddle were stolen from India. And Central American fruit — here we come again!

I have a feeling we will see some American tourists in Roatan, but likely few if any in San Pedro Sula. And that is a real thing to look forward to.

The amazing pizza guy in Washington Heights who sent me home with a huge sample of his Calabrian chili oil

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On Chris’s parents’ last full day with us before they head back to Melbourne, we took them up to Washington Heights. Chris decided our lunch “appetizer” would be at a local pizza spot that opened about 1.5 years ago, which happens to be just next door to a really good Singaporean hole-in-the-wall we’ve dined at a couple times.

Niccolo Pizzeria was a tiny spot, but was so, so memorable today! We got two cheese slices, which were excellent – super thin crust and crispy. The cheese, tomato sauce, and the crust were all perfection! But what truly, truly blew us away was the super warm and friendly hospitality from Cleber, the manager/owner. He was extremely kind and explained the menu and ingredients to us right away — he made us feel like family there. He even humored Kaia and gave her a VERY generous helping of their daily in-house made soft-serve gelato, which today was white chocolate-pineapple. When we told him we live on the Upper West Side and came just to try a few things in the area since Chris’s parents were visiting from Australia, he was so shocked not only that we came from another neighborhood, but also brought international visitors to his restaurant! So he gave us a second generous sample of their soft serve gelato. He also insisted we not miss his Calabrian chili oil. He told me he imports the Calabrian chilies in oil from Italy, then simply adds high quality extra virgin olive oil to them and allows the chilies to infuse the olive oil. He doesn’t add anything else! At that point, we’d already finished our pizza share, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try a new chili oil. So I poured a few drops onto my plate and licked it, and WOW! The Calabrian chili oil had this really delicious smoky, fruity flavor with a huge hit of heat at the end, which was really addictive! I told Cleber how much I loved it, and he was so thrilled that he PACKED ME A GENEROUS SAMPLE OF THE CALABRIAN CHILI OIL TO BRING HOME. I nearly passed out from Cleber’s kindness and generosity. In a city as big and packed with endless good restaurant options, sometimes hospitality takes a back seat to food and atmosphere, but most definitely not here.

Trying Calabrian chili oil today was also very good timing because I was just reading Samin Nosrat’s book Good Things, in which she includes a very labor-intensive, 20+ ingredient recipe for her Calabrian chili oil, which is essentially a mash-up of Italian (Calabrian), Sichuanese, Japanese, Mexican chili oils. The description sounds like it could potentially be the perfect chili oil. I was debating whether I really wanted to go to such lengths to make it, but I was intrigued because I’d never tried Calabrian chilies before, nor tasted their oil… until today. And now, I might actually be sold to put her Calabrian chili oil on my growing “project cooking” list.

Buttermilk Falls State Park

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Our last stop in the Finger Lakes region before heading back home today was at Buttermilk Falls State Park. The park is named after the foaming cascade (little waterfall) formed by Buttermilk Creek as it flows down the steep valley side toward Cayuga Lake, one of the eleven Finger Lakes. It was named for its “frothy” appearance of its churning waters. Similar to the rock formations at Taughannock Falls State Park, the rocks form in endless horizontal layers, creating flat slabs and angular, even sharp edges as they erode and fracture. The gorge and waterfalls formed since the last ice age, within the last twenty to thirty thousand years.

We did the gorge trail at Buttermilk Falls this morning, which was quite wet on and off throughout the walk up and down the stairs. There were times when we actually just had to walk through large puddles, which soaked our shoes and socks (Pookster was not a huge fan of this, but she was a good little trooper and sucked it up). After going through three of these gorge trails already, I am so impressed with how well maintained they are. The paths are very clearly defined; it would be impossible to take a wrong turn or get lost (…unlike the Mount Jo debacle I caused back in the Adirondacks in 2014 when I thought I would be disowned by my then-future in-laws). There’s really zero way for you to get lost on any of them, and all the stairs are sturdy and taken care of.

While the main Buttermilk Falls is impressive at this park, I would actually say that my favorite part is along the gorge trail further down, where you can see all the pinnacle-like rock formations with layers upon layers of stone etched out. The pinnacles flank all the little waterfalls that keep flowing into each other. When you look at the pinnacles, it almost appears as though a human etched them to look this way; it’s so beautiful and scenic, just asking to be stared at and photographed!

After this trip, I would say that the state parks in the Finger Lakes region are likely one of the most underrated, lesser known, and lesser appreciated public parks in the country. While I’d always been aware of the Finger Lakes region for wine and hiking, I didn’t actually realize how “gorges” the area was until doing research for this trip, and then finally going on it. I’d love to come back and see Watkins Glen State Park and some of the other gorges in the area. Who would have guessed that scenery like this existed in upstate New York?! We’re still always learning about the state, country, and world we live in.

Cascadilla Gorge, Taughannock Falls State Park, and Purity Ice Cream Co.

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Much to Chris’s mom’s annoyance of walking on surfaces that are not flat or cement, we did two hiking trails today: in the morning, we visited Cascadilla Gorge, which drops 400 feet from Cornell’s campus to downtown Ithaca. The gorge is carved through bedrock — shale, siltstone and sandstone, exposing sedimentary rocks that were deposited over 400 million years ago. When you walk through the extremely well-maintained trail, it feels like one little waterfall after one big waterfall after endless waterfalls over and over. And if you take the gorge trail from the trail main entrance, you end up on the Cornell campus!

In the afternoon, we went to Taughannock Falls State Park and did the North and South Rim trails. The name “Taughannock” has Native American origins, as one translation suggests the name is derived from a combination of Iroquois and Algonquin terms meaning, “great fall in the woods,” which would be quite aptly named. The waterfall and gorge together are an example of a “hanging valley,” which is formed where Taughannock Creek’s stream-carved valley meets the deeper glacially carved valley that contains Cayuga Lake. When we reached the falls outlook point on this trail, I used my camera to zoom in on the fall’s base. You could see right away the effects of erosion over time right at that point.

It didn’t seem to matter how many waterfalls we saw on this short trip, but each one was incredible and breathtaking in its own way. I also loved seeing the different colors of the water at different points of the hike, and also when the sun occasionally poked out of the clouds to reveal itself. Though because Chris’s mom hates stairs, inclines, and anything that is even slightly uneven or not flat, she kept muttering, “Another waterfall? Again?” And not necessarily in a positive way…. It also gave way for some fun jokes. Even Kaia at some point said, “Another waterfall? I don’t want that! I’m tired!”

Kaia did get a very special treat at the end of the day, though: at the end of the day, we stopped at Purity Ice Cream Co, an Ithaca institution operating since 1936. It is known as “The Ice Cream of the Finger Lakes” and is quite the impressive ice cream shop: its storefront is huge, with generous seating (booths!), WiFi (a big plus for Chris’s dad), and huge restrooms. There’s even a drive-through where you can pick up ice cream and not even get out of your car! For the first time ever, we let Kaia have a waffle cone — she chose strawberry as her flavor. I shared it with her (since she’s never allowed to have her own to control sugar intake/portions), and I will say that the strawberry ice cream was truly excellent — really creamy, with strawberry flavor infused throughout, and generous with frozen chunks of strawberry fruit. And while I never get waffle cones, this waffle cone was really, really good. It still seemed like it was warm, maybe even fresh off the waffle cone iron, and it was thick and crispy throughout.

We could easily spend a week here exploring all the interesting food spots and hitting every single gorge, but alas, tomorrow is already Sunday and time to go home. I am still wondering how it took us this long to finally come up here. And I still can’t get enough of how good and fresh these state parks smell!

TIL that Cornell was built between two gorges

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When I was in high school listening to peers around me talking about how they would choose the colleges they’d apply to, one criteria inevitably always came up when it came to private schools out of state (of California): the beauty of the campus. This seems a little ridiculous when you think about it: when you are enrolled and going through the hell of midterms or final papers and exams, do you really think you will be meditating on how beautiful your chosen college campus is?! My college had a beautiful campus, and while I did appreciate the architectural details, the large green lawns, and the lake, these details were always lost when I was stressing about my studies.

However, for those I knew who applied to and went to Cornell, whether that was for undergrad or grad work, not a single person ever, ever told me that the campus was intentionally built between two gorges: the Fall Creek Gorge and the Cascadilla Gorge. There’s a huge waterfall and dam that runs through the middle of the campus. From certain hills on the campus, you can see sweeping views of Cayuga Lake, which is one of the eleven Finger Lakes (and one of the most well known, next to Seneca Lake). And the university actually utilizes the natural water flow through Fall Creek Gorge to power a hydroelectric plant, which generates a portion of the campus’s electricity. That’s quite impressive. Ezra Cornell, who designed the university, intentionally built it around the two gorges. I just found this to be such a unique and impressive story, one I had zero idea about before visiting the campus today. And it would be very good future trivia on American colleges and universities — and a point in favor of Cornell being on the top lists for “most beautiful college campuses.”

Although I will say that as soon as I knew there were gorges around the campus, plus the huge dam, my mind (and eyes) immediately started looking for suicide netting… which I quickly noticed. The nets are like the suicide net around the Golden Gate Bridge — meant to feel like slicing yourself through a cheese grater if you chose to jump into it. Where there is beauty, there can also be pain.