Wanders of OZ

30 April 2023

Whereas my stay in Vienna was packed with visits to magnificent palaces, world-class museums and lovely cafés, my time in Innsbruck has been filled with memorable activities that have captivated my wandering spirit.

Frankly, I had not read much about Innsbruck going into this trip, so I was pleasantly surprised with the astonishing sight that greeted me – a colorful, vibrant, athletic and historic town and the snow-capped peaks rising majestically beyond it.

A few days before setting foot in Innsbruck, I googled “things to do in Innsbruck” and two activities caught my eye as they seemed right up my alley and were also very well reviewed. First was a half-day Tirolean food tour (Innsbruck is the capital of Tirol state in Austria) and the second was a half-day e-bike tour to the Alps.

The first was an easy choice as I’ve always felt that one of the best ways to get to know a country is through its food. Kurt, our guide, provided an impeccable tour of Tirolean cuisine punctuating his spiels with bits of history, funny anecdotes, and even lovely family stories (Kurt is a true-blooded Tirolean who grew up and still lives in the region). As he gave us a small cube of sugar flavored with cinnamon after a meal, he reminded us how there must be a direct pathway between our senses and our memories. A scent, a taste, music, and sights become triggers to distinct memories and emotions in us. And I nodded and sheepishly smiled as thoughts of Christmas wrapped me in a warm hug as the cube of cinnamon-infused sugar melted in my mouth.

The second was a bit of a leap of faith. Although I enjoy biking even in the urban jungle that is NYC, I had only tried to e-bike once and honestly I wouldn’t consider myself in the best shape at the moment. But the allure of experiencing the Alps on two wheels captivated me and what better place to do this than in Innsbruck. The ride turned out to be phenomenal! Anton, our Aussie guide, was very patient in teaching us how to use the gears and breaks of the e-bike and kept a watchful eye as we went through this adventure.

The first part of the ride was an uphill climb through winding gravel paths, a few of which were awfully close to mountain edges. I kept my sight forward and focused on what I had to do. The e-bike was definitely helpful and the steep hills I wouldn’t typically manage on a regular bike became, at least, doable! The scent of mountain air invigorated me as well. Past the highest point of our climb, near the ruins of Thaurer Schlösl, an 11th century castle, we started our descent. We glided through long stretches of downhill paths, swishing through mountain roads damp from the rain the day before, cruising along green fields dotted with spring blossoms. At the quaint town of Hall in Tirol, we came upon a lively weekend market celebrating the unheralded “radish” at the town plaza. From Hall in Tirol, we biked through ten kilometers of lovely relatively flat paths to reach Innsbruck.

As I walked back to my hotel after the ride, physically tired but mentally energized by the experience, I looked up at the mountains in front of me and now could identify some of the landmarks we passed during the ride. I sighed with astonishment at the sight before me and smiled. The magnificence of the scene was still there, but, this time, so was a newfound intimacy.

Summer 2021

It may come at the most unexpected of circumstances – this feeling of being enthralled by a moment in time. I remember one summer afternoon while I was walking along one of my usual routes in Central Park. As I turned to glance at the lagoon and the picturesque towers of San Remo to my left, the scene that greeted me seemed almost unreal. I was captivated by how the afternoon sun’s rays gently touched the sunbathers lazing on the grass, creating an image straight out of a Seurat painting.

Or that moment while fellow hikers and I were resting amidst Incan ruins, tired and lost on an ancient trail. As darkness fell and the moonlight and head lamps were all that we had, a pair of llamas quietly ambled by and rested among us, turning our weariness into wonder.

October 2022

In my three decades of living in NYC, there is nothing that has captivated me more than Central Park. Through the years and after countless walks, runs and bike rides, this oasis amidst the frenzy of NYC has been a constant presence in my journey as a New Yorker. As I walk around the park, its various backdrops and corners come to life with memories of days past (some long gone), of time with family and friends, of quiet morning bike rides and early evening runs. Oh, there’s Cedar Hill, where we had a grand family picnic, and Sheep Meadow where I hopelessly tried to do cartwheels with friends. There’s the Great Lawn where friends and I laid on the grass enjoying grapes and wine on a Sunday afternoon, and the Bethesda Terrace shimmering in a sea of white as a lone guitarist played haunting melodies after a blizzard. I have always loved taking people around the park, through its famous landmarks and along paths less trodden, in the hope that they, too, would discover its magic. It has lifted me to the highest spirits (such as on a beautiful fall afternoon in 1998 while crossing the finish line of the NYC marathon) and has always provided solace and serenity during times of introspection or when just trying to get away from the daily grind. Central Park is certainly a place to be checked off in many a bucket list, but for me, my bond with this jewel has always been very personal, sublimely intimate, and always endearing.

Here are a few of my favorite scenes captured in different seasons through the years.

August 2022

It had been almost three years since my last overseas trip. That year, 2019, I had been to five countries – Denmark and Sweden in one trip, Spain and Georgia in another, and Japan. I felt I was at the peak of my traveling days, those ten years before the pandemic. I went on trips with friends to Provence and Cambodia, hiked Macchu Picchu and Milford Sound, took solo adventures to Atacama and Patagonia. I had gotten used to the rigors of traveling and developed my own travel routines and wore them like a second skin, sort of like a cycling outfit. I was enraptured with “exploring the world” and sharing my reflections of these wanderings to those who may be interested. Then the pandemic happened and it seemed as though a huge part of me was snatched away. In a way the wanderer was lost in a world of COVID and political theatre, masking and travel restrictions. 

We all have our stories to tell about what happened to us these past 2 1/2 years. And, actually, these stories have not been all bad. But I’d like to tell you my story about getting back into traveling after being idle and rusty and still somewhat cautious about where the world was going. 

I went on a lot of road trips the past two years – I got reacquainted with Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston, and discovered Cape May and Cape Ann. I mustered enough courage to travel by plane again a couple of months ago, visiting friends in St. Louis.

Last month, after a trip to New England, I decided that August 2022 would be the month I would start traveling overseas again. I had already planned on taking a week off that month and travel restrictions were becoming less stringent. I thought I could finally visit Austria, “the trip that was cancelled” when COVID hit New York like a terrifying plague in March 2020, but one week seemed too short to thoroughly enjoy what the country had to offer.  I thought of going to Colombia and Mexico, but ultimately chose Bruges and nearby Luxembourg to get me back to traveling. I wanted to visit beautiful, small, quiet, and generally stress-free places that I hadn’t been to, and those two seemed to fit the bill perfectly. 

It was very busy at work the weeks before my trip so I did not have much time to prepare. I read up on the two cities and had a general idea of where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. I looked into the practicalities and logistics of traveling (e.g. lodging/ flights- which I always focus on when traveling). Outside of that, I felt I would just “wing it”, as I had done so, many times in the past. But as the day approached, things began to come to my attention that I had forgotten to do – like not checking if I had a mobile phone travel plan or almost forgetting about my plug adapter altogether. These were basic things that my old traveling self would have done automatically, but here I was, remembering these tasks sporadically just before a trip. How do I  get to the airport again? Was it the A train? Oh, the F train, then transfer to the Airtrain at Sutphin. What else would I end up forgetting?

I admit I harbored some trepidation about traveling overseas again. After reading horror stories about lost luggage and cancelled flights, I made it a point to travel lightly and not have any bags to check in. I actually upgraded to business class using my miles just to have a better chance of not being bumped off my flight, just in case. 

And the flight did go smoothly. Passing through security at JFK was a breeze that evening. I got into the plane, relaxed in my comfortable seat, and was in Brussels by 9 am, right on time. ‘This ain’t too bad’, I thought, as I looked forward to a smooth fast train ride from Brussels to Luxembourg, my base for the first half of the trip. 

The first indication that not everything would happen as planned was when I looked at the departure board in Brussels’ Gare Centrale and could not find “Luxembourg” among the destinations. So I headed to the ticketing office and learned that there were no express trains running from Brussels to Luxembourg that weekend due to repairs in the Belgian rails; instead, I had to take a regular train to Libramont, transfer to a bus to Arlon, and there, take a second train to Luxembourg. Two transfers in sleepy Belgian towns made for some uneasiness and comedy, which was largely language-related! The rural scenes from the bus and trains did take off some of the uneasiness and I managed to reach Luxembourg in five hours. 

Luxembourg is gorgeous. After settling in my hotel (stylish and artsy, better than I had expected!), I walked around nearby Place d’Armes, the main square, to get my bearings. Once oriented, I wandered out to less busy streets and to wonderful vistas Luxembourg was known for.

The following day, as I walked through the quiet cobblestone streets of Grund, one of the oldest neighborhoods of the city, at the golden hour when the day was winding down and the sun was about to set, I felt an extra bounce in my stride. I had missed this singular feeling of wonder and excitement and enchantment. 

There would be a few more challenges in the next few days while traveling to charming villages and remote castles. With some slowly-gained confidence, I got past these uncertainties. I thought about my pre-COVID traveling experiences and how these “mishaps” had become part and parcel of the stories I tell (they tend to be generally funny and light-hearted) and had made the experiences more memorable. 

By the time I reached Bruges, the second leg of the trip, I felt I was beginning to “find my groove back”. The trip from Luxembourg to Brussels, with the reverse train-bus-train combination from the past weekend, did not seem as daunting. I was a bit more familiar with the Brussels train station by then and easily booked a late afternoon train to Bruges, allowing a quick jaunt to Brussels’ Grand Place and have some Belgian fries!

Bruges was every bit as beguiling as I had envisioned it to be. My airbnb was a tastefully renovated attic in a step-gable townhouse on a lovely street with other step-gable townhouses. It was just outside of city center, right next to a pretty neighborhood park. That evening, I walked to Markt and Burg, the astonishingly beautiful squares at the heart of Bruges. 

I always try to discover a new city in the early morning or later in the evening when crowds are sparse and the place is left almost to oneself. And so it was in Bruges. As I left the main squares and headed back home on that cool summer evening, I  walked amidst historic townhouses in quiet, hauntingly beautiful streets, on to handsome bridges and alongside enchanting canals. 

I rented bikes on my last two days in Bruges. My first bike was a clunker, with its chain making an irritating grating sound which I tried to suppress by pedaling in a specific way.  Except for one time when it actually got unchained, it was good enough to use as I biked all over Bruges that day, circling its periphery and visiting its lofty cathedrals, delightful squares, and a tranquil monastery.

On the second day, I had my clunker replaced with a sturdier bike as I was planning to do a more arduous ride. I had read about a stunning 7-kilometer bike path connecting Bruges to Damme, a lovely town just to its north. It had been on my “to do” list as I was planning for the trip, so I was determined to put a check mark beside it. There were a few tricky intersections within Bruges to get to the beginning of the path, but once on it, the path was smooth and flat, as it followed the length of the Sluis canal.

It was a stunning ride indeed, as it took one through serene tree-lined passages, past windmills and quaint cottages. As I glided along the path, with the summer breeze brushing my face and the afternoon sun caressing my skin, my one thought was that of gratitude, that despite all the challenges that have come our way, we have somehow found our groove back in this extraordinarily beautiful world we have.