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Every morning I wake up reminding myself that we just can’t pop over to a store to pick up a bottle of wine, or a can of tuna… Wow, I just got a text from the supermarket that my online order is delayed and will arrive this Sunday (but I knew that). It made me happy to know the system is alive and well. I have more items to add, so I’d better get to it. I went to the local Mail & Post store to mail a UPS package. As soon as I walked in, I saw a former neighbor who used to rent a house next door to us. As I waved “hello” she dashed over to hug me. I stepped back and with a smile, I said, “I’m sorry, but no hugging…” followed with a regretful look on my face. She immediately stormed out of the store yelling back, “It’s a HOAX!” The only other customer in the store and I were speechless. A minute later, she returned happy as can be and dropped a piece of mail in the slot. “This is why I came here!” All right… Later in the evening Jacqueline suggested we take a walk around the neighborhood. The cold, crisp air, no rain and the mountains behind us were just the calm we needed. But no more walking to the town square. I learned from Lola’s vet that dogs can be carriers of coronavirus. Studies were done on the only known case of a dog with the virus in China – whose owner was sick with the virus. The dog had tested positive but showed no symptoms. Dogs can be carriers if anyone with the virus touches it. So, I immediately had Lola bathed and we’re taking the preventive measure of not allowing anyone to hug her – a sad change we’re making from our evening rituals of sitting at Starbucks and letting passersby give Lola loving hugs – and she gives them right back. Jacqueline, an artist, had something else in mind on that walk. She led us down a small street to a one-story building – to show us the small office/art studio that she had just rented the day before. It was by chance that she spotted the “For Rent” sign on this street that she never usually walks. She unlocked the front door. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt a lovely energy. What a bright moment to celebrate! Then… As we were leaving the building, we saw friends taking a walk – parents and their three school age children. We normally give big wonderful hugs, but we couldn’t this time. “Oh, I’m sorry…but we shouldn’t hug…” I said regretfully. Then the mom told us that a university professor friend of hers said it’s not anything to worry about. “It’s just like the flu.” My response: “This is not just the flu.” PREVIOUS ENTRY NEXT ENTRY

I woke up this morning wondering which other businesses will close. Just saw an email before going to bed that Nordstrom is closing temporarily. I’d better make that appointment for junk pick up, which we’ve been meaning to do for a while. Eeeks. Things are changing fast because of the pandemic. Yes, it’s causing stress. But I continue to see people taking care of one another. Our neighbor checked to see if we need anything from the market. When the local market was too crowded, I walked across the street to the liquor store to see if they had eggs and almond milk. Cleaned out. The lovely Indian woman behind the counter was so apologetic and told me they just got a shipment the day before and everything sold out. Even the warehouse is completely out of toilet paper. She asked me for my phone number and said she would call me when tomorrow’s shipment comes in. “Because we’re a small store, we receive a small supply.” In less than an hour, she phoned me to say she had the milk and eggs. Oh, my goodness, such kindness! And while we’re all talking about toilet paper, my search for what has become a prized commodity has enlightened me as to its various forms: Travel toilet paper, that is, small rolls to carry in a pocket or a purse; and moistened bum wipes in convenient packets (like the towelettes we get at BBQ restaurants…(sigh). PREVIOUS ENTRY NEXT ENTRY

Woke up to scroll through the morning news on my phone. Starbucks is going the way of takeout orders only. Does that mean I can’t sit at my favorite Starbucks that’s been my morning ritual for years? I quickly got dressed and walked three blocks to my local Starbucks to get ahead of the crowd that will soon see this news. An awakening it was: The floor was cleared of tables and chairs, which were stacked against the wall. The outside tables and closed umbrellas were cabled together. And against the outside windows, tables and chairs were stacked and cable locked. I ordered a dark coffee, a venti this time, with steamed almond milk. Darn. It wasn’t made the way my beloved regular baristas make it – with lots of foam. But it still brought me the morning comfort I needed. To devise calm in my own life, I’m giving a shot at home delivery for my groceries, which I’ve never done before. Having to accept that we must change our habits and the way we go about our days is a rude awakening. With a small house and not a lot of storage space – and the market just down the street -- we have always shopped as-we-need. We cook a lot at home and always buy fresh ingredients for the day. But with long lines at every grocery store, this is worth a try. But there’s a “line” there, too. My order won’t arrive for five days. To aggressively contain spread of coronavirus, California Governor Gavin Newsom, has asked all bars to close and that all seniors 65+ self-isolate (that’s us).So, we will.At Jacqueline’s urging, Louie signed up for hot yoga and Pilates classes – all online now.He rolled out his yoga mat in the living room, laughing while stretching with Lola trying to get in on the act.So, I went down the hall to my office to pay bills.With our athletic club facilities also closing, I am now inspired to buy walking poles, a fantastic form of exercise I discovered in the Austrian Alps. PREVIOUS ENTRY NEXT ENTRY

I arrived at Ralphs, my regular spot for morning coffee and writing at Starbucks. I decided to park in the back lot. It was pretty empty – that’s good I thought, the crowd’s not here yet. Walked up to the door and it was locked. There was a sign: “Use other door.” I drove around to the front parking lot to see people with shopping carts lined up outside the front entrance. I could see that the manager was allowing only a few people in at a time. As I was just going for coffee, I sheepishly asked the manager if I could slip through. He was so kind to let me go in. I felt so guilty doing that. When the baristas saw me, they said, “Athena! We wondered if we were going to see you!” It felt like a homecoming. It was surreal to see the store in such calm after witnessing pandemonium there the day before. The manager told me controlling the number of shoppers at one time is the only way to establish relative calm, put less pressure on the workers, and allow for re-stocking and thorough sanitizing throughout the day. Store hours are now 8am to 8pm to allow for re-stocking. The back entrance was locked to prevent thefts. As customers left the store, I could hear them thanking the managers for creating a “normal” shopping experience. This extraordinary moment made me tear up. Had friends (a couple) over for dinner. Most of the night was spent discussing coronavirus – over plenty of wine. With all of the upset to our daily lives and not knowing what the future will bring, I’m already seeing some positives: I’ve noticed that people are nice to each other and stepping forward to help one another. And complacency is no longer. I shared with Louie that our neighbor across the street could not even find a loaf of bread at the stores. So, when he went to Seed Bakery in Pasadena, he bought her a gorgeous loaf of olive bread. Then he told another neighbor about the bakery. She bee-lined over and got loaves for her family. The artisanal bread was exotic for her two young boys, but I think they’ll learn to love it. PREVIOUS ENTRY NEXT ENTRY

It’s the day after the World Health Organization officially announced the coronavirus or Covid-19 pandemic. I had just dropped off Lola, my Golden Retriever, at the dog wash and walked over to Vons next door to get a few things. While there my daughter, Jacqueline, shares with me via text that classes at the local college have been cancelled and instructors are informing students that courses will now be taught online. She suggests I stock up on some things. I looked around the store and sensed panic amongst the shoppers standing in long checkout lines. Oh dear. I began filling my cart – but not with toilet paper because there was none to be found. Employees I normally have a chat with were “all hands-on deck” dashing around the store and stocking items. A woman next to me in line said, “I’ve got my wine – there’s plenty on the shelves!” As I was leaving the store, I saw one of the managers cashiering. I waved goodbye to him. He was calm but overwhelmed. He smiled and in the most endearing way said, “Bye, Athena…take good care of yourself…” When I drove away, my eyes filled with tears. When I called my husband, Louie, to tell him about my unexpected market run, he fell quiet. He then asked me to pick him up so that we could shop for meat at local grocery store. At that moment, I was approaching the store and saw the parking lot packed. I think you better meet me there instead, I told him. It was swarming inside. I grabbed a cart to pick up specialty items that we like. Their carts are smaller than standard-sized ones, so it was filling up fast. And there was no toilet paper. Then I saw Louie come in and he went straight for the freezer to grab frozen meats we normally don’t buy, like turkey legs. A neighbor we ran into had only a few items in her hands. She felt people were overreacting. As I stood there with my cart overflowing with my favorite cranberry walnut bread on top, I told her that my reason for stocking up is that many items might be harder to come by soon. She might have regretted not getting at least a few more things because the lines haven’t waned since. NEXT ENTRY

What an incredible awakening it was. In the lobby of my hotel in Buenos Aires, I flipped through pages of coffee table books filled with stunning photography telling visual stories of the "eternal wanderers" who became the symbol of Argentina. Colorful photos showed gauchos on horseback displaying impeccable riding skills. Their dress was rugged yet dapper. They wore berets, handkerchiefs around their necks, elegant belts, ponchos draped over their shoulders and trousers tucked into leather boots. And at the end of a hard day's work, gauchos young and old gather around the fire pit minding giant stakes sizzling with savory slabs of beef. The images alone conveyed the gauchos' passion for the land and living a simple existence. Even while walking the fashionable streets of this capital city, I realized the high regard given to the gaucho traditions. Whether a high-end shop or a stall at the weekly outdoor flea market, vendors displayed rustic apparel, espadrilles and accessories that speak of the Argentines' proud connection with their gaucho history that dates back to the 1600s. Finally, our visit to Los Patos, an estancia (ranch), a half-hour drive outside Buenos Aires, piqued my curiosity to understand a culture so complex it inspired the 19th century Argentine writer Jose Hernandez (who spent many years as a gaucho) to write the epic poem "El Gaucho Martin Fierro" in 1872. An immediate success, it was translated into 70 languages and compared to Cervantes' "Don Quixote."  Estanciero (ranch owner) Angel de Estrada welcomed Jacqueline and me to Los Patos, his family's 700-acre working ranch and guest lodge where we dodged the city for a day, immersed our senses at a working Argentine ranch, and met some modern-day gauchos. We arrived in time for a criollo-style barbecue, where Miguel Delgado, a gaucho who has worked on the ranch for 37 years, grilled delicious cuts of beef — tri-tip, ribs and sausages — to juicy perfection and made the tastiest sweetbreads I've ever had. An economist, accomplished polo player and former executive, Angel's life came full circle when, after he and his siblings inherited land that has been in the family for more than 200 years, he built his ranch in 1969. "As a young boy, I grew up on my mother's ranch," Angel explained in perfect English. "I liked spending time with the gauchos who worked there." He reminisced about early morning rides across the fields, and how they taught him the craft of building fences and breaking horses. At Los Patos, Angel raises cattle, breeds polo ponies and provides lodging for guests itching for a taste of the Argentine countryside. We felt at home in the adobe-style main house painted bright magenta against the pastoral landscape. The living room, dining room, three guest rooms in the main house and two private guest rooms across the lawn, all furnished with family heirlooms, offered a cozy ranch ambience and rustic elegance. After lunch we wandered the ranch on horseback with Angel and the gauchos. We watched in awe as the men worked gently with a 7-month-old filly that was leaving its mother for the first time to join the existing lot of horses. Witnessing this made me ponder the early life of the gauchos. Long before private ownership of property in Argentina, they wandered the expansive pampas (countryside), living off the land. After Spanish explorers arrived in South America in the 16th century, it was the gaucho who tamed the wild horses and cattle that escaped from Spanish settlements. The gauchos hunted cattle using boleadoras, three balls linked by a rope. With great accuracy, they rode horseback and captured the running animals by throwing the boleadoras around their legs. They survived on the beef and, because leather was more valuable than meat then, they traded hides and tallow for tobacco, rum, and mate, Argentina's national tea beverage. Through time, horsemanship became the primary reputation of the gauchos. The saying goes, "When a gaucho was without his horse, he was without his legs." Their riding skills led to competitions among the gauchos. In the maroma, for example, a man would fall from a corral gate as a herd of horses was driven below. With great strength, the competitor had to land bareback on a horse and ride back to the corral gate.  While the gauchos' character was all about machismo, they possessed a poetic soul. Some — called payadores — had the gift of song. As Angel described, the gaucho traveled with his guitar between villages and entertained the locals by "discussing" with another payador any subject of interest to the audience. Through exciting rhyming exchanges, they challenged one another singing poetic verses. Argentines still enjoy this popular musical art at rodeos, brandings and other public events.  "These are very exciting moments for those who attend these shows," said Angel.  Flawless horsemanship earned the gauchos respect when the military recruited them during Argentina's war of independence from Spain in 1810. Before that, gauchos had a reputation as vagabonds. Their name became dignified, however, when they displayed their valor and Argentina won the war. When we returned to the corral at Los Patos, we met up with longtime gaucho Tomas Alfredo Battistessa, the ranch's horse whisperer, Angel was proud to say. Dressed in a bright blue shirt with sleeves rolled up, bombachas (pleated trousers with button cuffs for tucking into boots) and wearing his black beret, Tomas took a short break from building a fence he'd been working on since early morning. Like a surgeon, he works with skill and precision, with his hands and eyes as his tools. Tomas' alert hazel eyes exuded a quiet ruggedness. With the few moments we had before the sun went down, I asked him to share his favorite memory as a gaucho. "I am most thankful to the horse, and the guitar," was his humble reply. "Also, the many people I have met." As Argentina developed in the 19th century and private ownership fenced off large portions of land, the gauchos had little choice but to integrate into urban society. Their expert knowledge of the land and their incomparable skills at herding cattle and breaking horses made them natural candidates to manage and supervise private ranches. Reading random verses of "El Gaucho Martin Fierro," the words simple yet so powerful, I concluded that the Argentine gaucho is a culture in his own right. As the pendulum of time continued swinging, he evolved to national hero, and for many, a mythological figure. "I will sing my song till my breath gives out, I will sing when they bury me; And singing I'll come where the angels roam The rolling plains of their starry home, Into this world I came to sing, As I sang on my mother's knee." Published version: https://www.lawcrossing.com/article/4084/The-Gaucho-Is-the-Essence-of-Argentina/?utm_campaign=shareaholic&utm_medium=email_this&utm_source=email IF YOU GO Learn more about Buenos Aires at: https://www.welcomeargentina.com/ciudadbuenosaires/outings.html For outstanding collections of 19th century silver pieces, original gaucho tack and tools, crafts and Argentina folklore, visit Jose Hernandez Popular Art Museum; https://www.buenosaires.gob.ar/museos/museo-de-arte-popular-jose-hernandez My overnight accommodations: Alvear Palace Hotel Buenos Aires, www.alvearpalace.com; Estancia Los Patos, www.estancialospatos.com.ar Photo Galleries Gallery 1 Gallery 2

While exploring London and Winchester, England’s ancient capital an hour’s train ride south of the city, I wandered onto the “eaten” path and got a taste of the local flavors -- in more ways than one. On a walking food tour in London’s vibrant East End, Zahra, our Eating Europe guide and East Ender, welcomed our small group to “…the best food in all of London!” We noshed at the best kept secrets and learned local lore, the mission of Eating Europe tours. Like the story of the earliest immigrants who had settled east of London’s Roman and medieval walls – French Huguenots, Irish weavers, Jews from Poland and the Netherlands, Bangladeshi, and England’s rural poor – who left behind a tapestry of trades, cultures, and cuisines. “The most recent arrivals are the hipsters,” said Zahra, “…recognized by our tight jeans!” Their energy, music, and street art revived this once poverty-stricken neighborhood. Breaking bread with strangers became a heavenly seven-course meal -- from comfort dishes like St. John’s bacon sandwiches, bread and butter pudding at the English Restaurant and cod and chips at Poppie’s to British and French cheeses at The House of Androuet; then British ale and cider at The Pride of Spitalfields neighborhood pub; Aladin, one of London’s oldest curry houses visited by HRH Prince Charles; and Beigal Bake cured beef sandwich -- all finished with salted caramel tarts and a pot of tea at Pizza East. In the West End, I crossed the threshold into Dukes Bar keen to elevate my martini-neophyte taste buds with “the best martini in London” that stirred my imagination beyond the cocktail. Author Ian Fleming was a regular here while he penned “Casino Royale” in 1953, his first James Bond novel in which Agent 007 invented the Vesper (vodka) Martini and the phrase, “shaken, not stirred,” was coined. The intimate bar is inside Dukes London hotel in a hidden medieval courtyard near Buckingham Palace. The late-19th century building was originally the London Chambers for sons of aristocracy, then in 1908 morphed into a discreet hotel, hence its name. Alessandro Palazzi, virtuoso and Duke’s bar manager, could have been 007’s bartender. Tableside, on the same trolley that rolled to Fleming’s corner table, Palazzi rinsed my chilled martini glass with an English dry vermouth he co-created, followed with a slow pour of gin and finished with his signature ingredient, fragrant oil of Meyer lemon -- “…organic, from the Amalfi Coast,” he emphasized. No need for ice because the spirits come from the freezer. My Classic Martini was delicious. And strong. Hungry for the countryside, I hopped the train to Winchester in Hampshire County, home to Winchester Cathedral, ex-Londoners and my base for exploring this gastronomic paradise. Walking from the train station to my hotel on High Street, a colorful scene unfolded: Winchester’s famous Farmers Market, the UK’s largest that attracts up to 5,000 visitors. From local honey to scallops and squid, fresh produce to goat meat and goat cheese, baked goods, water buffalo burgers, and street performers, the atmosphere was nothing short of festive. “Saffron paella will be ready at 11:30!” the gregarious vendor announced. Water buffalo in the south of England? Indeed, the UK’s largest herd grazes away at Laverstoke Park Farm founded by Jody Scheckter, 1979 Formula One World Champion motor racing driver. From the fast lane to the farm, Scheckter used his technical acumen to grow the healthiest food for his family – a personal quest that became a serious study in soils management. Today, his analytic chemistry lab is Europe’s only licensed Soil Food Web Laboratory. Happy buffalo feast on over 30 herbs, grasses and cloves and in return produce nutritious low-fat milk used for making award-winning buffalo mozzarella and ice cream. And on a special tour, I watched how mozzarella, Italy’s delicious invention, is made. Next door to the farm, the revival of 300-year old Laverstoke Mill -- acclaimed conservation project, museum and extraordinary home of Bombay Sapphire gin distillery – was an enchanting find. On the banks of the River Test, the mill once made paper for bank notes for British colonies, including India, Jewel of the British Empire. And who knew the invention of gin and tonic in India (believed to ward off malaria), inspired the image of Queen Victoria, Empress of India, on every bottle of Bombay gin? A tour with Sam Carter, Bombay Sapphire’s Senior Ambassador who conducts Master Classes for the world’s top bartenders, was a crash course on the UK’s favorite spirit. “Gin must be made with ethanol of agricultural origin, water and flavored with botanicals,” explained Carter, “…but must be juniper-dominant,” true to the original 1761 gin recipe of Thomas Dakin. And getting up close to the Dakin stills was a rite of passage as I learned how the magic of Vapor Infusion extracts the bright flavors of juniper, angelica, almonds, coriander, lemon peel, cubeb berries, orris, licorice, grains of paradise and cassia bark -- all grown on-site in the tropical climes of the Glass Houses. Inside the interactive Botanical Dry Room, visitors sniff each botanical and pick their favorites – crafting a custom gin cocktail to imbibe at the distillery’s very own Mill Bar – one delightful sip at a time. WHEN YOU GO: Eating Europe Food Tours: www.eatingeurope.com/london/ Laverstoke Park Farm: www.laverstokepark.co.uk Bombay Sapphire: https://distillery.bombaysapphire.com My accommodations in London: Dukes London, www.dukeshotel.com; Strand Palace Hotel, www.strandpalacehotel.co.uk. In Winchester: No. 5 Bridge Street Bar, Kitchen & Rooms (former carriage house-turned upscale restaurant and inn) Published version: https://www.creators.com/read/travel-and-adventure/06/19/london-to-winchester-a-foodies-accidental-takeaway PHOTO GALLERIES Gallery 1 (10 images) Gallery 2 (11 images)

With the seventh largest public plaza in the world, a meandering river walk, world-class museums, an outrageous culinary scene, home to Mexico’s best universities and medical schools, the hip suburb of San Pedro, and Chipinque National Park as its back yard, it’s hard not to have a good time in cosmopolitan Monterrey, spelled with two Rs. The shocker is that just south of Texas, this vibrant capital of the northeastern state of Nuevo Leon is the country’s most American-looking city – and a best kept secret under the tourist radar. But. That is changing. A March 2017 survey ranked Monterrey as having the best quality of life in Mexico, according to Mercer, the international human resources firm that measures the infrastructure, transportation, and safety of cities around the world to help international companies decide where to open offices and send their expats. Corporations from around the globe in automotive, aerospace, and manufacturing already occupy the buildings that shape its skyline. This news was “musica” to my ears because Monterrey has bounced back after the dangerous drug-related years between 2008 and 2011 that temporarily slowed time for the progressive metropolis of 1.2 million hard-working and sophisticated inhabitants who energize Mexico’s financial hub and economic powerhouse. And according to the United Nations’ annual World Happiness Report, the people of Mexico, especially in Monterrey, are among the happiest on the planet, right up there with Norway, Denmark, Switzerland, and Canada. I found proof in this finding when I attended a grand family “boda,” or wedding, on my husband Louie’s side. Fueled by a second dinner served in the middle of the night, guests dressed to the nines danced non-stop with the bride and groom until 6:00 a.m. With each visit, I am charmed by the traditions here – like barbecues where men are not only kings of the grill, they also serve the women. And like an onion full of surprising flavors, I peel off more layers of the city, especially in San Pedro (Monterrey’s Beverly Hills) where Louie’s cousin, Alejandro and his family live. With a population of about 125,000 residents, it looked a lot like Los Angeles – freeways, traffic, modern high-rises, Starbucks everywhere, minus a coastline. But what Monterrey lacks in sandy beaches is replaced with the dramatic Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range. At almost 1,800 feet above sea level, San Pedro is at its foothills and is the gateway to the forests and beautifully maintained hiking trails of Chipinque National Park, Mexico’s best-preserved park with look-outs to the most romantic views of the city. “When I was a boy,” Alejandro told us during a refreshing hike in the woods, “I used to take walks here with my father all the time.” Monterrey is an urban paradise. From just about anywhere in the city I could glance up to its legendary mountain peaks, “Cerro de la Silla” or Saddle Hill because it’s shaped like a saddle and “La Eme” is shaped like the letter “M.” It’s no wonder everyone loves the outdoors here, especially along tree-lined Calzado del Valle, San Pedro’s main avenue where joggers and walkers shared the cushioned pathway passing upscale apartments, shops, luxury car showrooms, and so many restaurants that you can eat out every day for months and never go to the same place twice. I admit that I had an ulterior mission while in Monterrey: I couldn’t leave without eating “cabrito,” the region’s traditional meal of roasted goat kid, a gastronomic holdover that originated with the area’s Jewish founders from Spain during the late 16th century. Lunchtime was busy at San Carlos, one of many restaurants specializing in cabrito where whole goats on the spit slow-cooked over simmering coals. I’ve never eaten goat this splendid. A lot of Canadians know this because they are regular clientele, Roberto, a staff member told me. The lean meat was extraordinary – light, tender, juicy, and full of flavor. In this arid, land-locked state raising cattle, goats and sheep has reigned for centuries. Drying food was a preservation technique dating back to the indigenous Tlaxcalteca and “carne seca,” or dried beef, became another specialty of Monterrey. The super-thin sheets of beef practically tear apart on their own. A favorite Monterrey dish is “machaca,” carne seca mixed with eggs. We booked a room at nearby MS Milenium located across the street from the ritzy Plaza Fiesta San Augustine shopping mall where we escaped from the summer heat, wandered the shops, and “desayunamos” or ate breakfast at legendary Sanborns (no apostrophe) department store founded in 1903 by California immigrant brothers Walter and Frank Sanborn. It is said that Mexican revolutionary leader Emilio Zapata’s troops had their first restaurant meal at the original Sanborns in Mexico City – where the slogan “Meet me at Sanborns” was born. While San Pedro has evolved into Monterrey’s modern commercial hub, Macroplaza -- Monterrey’s ginormous pedestrian town square in the heart of the city -- is the pulse of cultural immersion and a popular gathering spot. Built during the early 1980s, it’s a landscape of gardens and monuments like the fountain of Neptune, the Governor’s Palace, the public library, and the 70-meter high “Faro del Comerica” or Lighthouse of Commerce that each night shoots a light beam into the sky. Surrounding Macroplaza are “Barrio Antigua,” Monterrey’s 18th century Spanish colonial neighborhood; the historic Metropolitan Cathedral of Monterrey; and major museums – Museum of Contemporary Art (MARCO), Museum of Mexican History, Metropolitan Museum, and Museum of the Northwest. We strolled along Santa Lucia Riverwalk constructed in 2007, another city jewel. Flowing one-and-a-half miles (with free wireless Internet access) it connects Macroplaza to “Fundidora,” Monterrey’s landmark steel foundry-turned museum and important educational center (the foundry operated from 1900-1986). The complex’s revitalization also includes a sustainable urban park and a restaurant. And overlooking the river walk is one of Canada’s five authentic inuksuks, a gift from the Canadian government and the Monterrey chapter of the Canadian Chamber of Commerce on its 10th anniversary in 2007. The beacon of friendship and peace was erected mostly with stones gathered from a local quarry. Its heart, however, was formed with two rocks brought from Canada by artist Bill Nasogoluak, its creator. One came from the high Arctic. The other from Toronto. IF YOU GO: For information about visiting Monterrey, see www.visitmexico.com MS Milenium Hotel: www.hotelesmilenium.com Published version: http://www.travelife.ca/DESTINATIONS/LatinAmerica2/tabid/544/ArticleID/2254/L-A-like-Monterrey-is-the-‘star’-of-Mexico.aspx#.WdFpEUtfTI0.email PHOTO GALLERIES Gallery 1 (2 images) Gallery 2 (2 images)

Wine country in England? Say what? When I learned about winemaking in Hampshire, an hour’s train ride south of London that’s producing world-class sparkling wine, I bee-lined over the pond last September to see the vines with my own eyes. The weather was dry and unusually warm as we drove through the rolling hills of Hampshire, one of the largest agricultural regions in England tucked inside South Downs National Park, the UK’s newest national park, designated in 2009. Clive Tillbrook of Hampshire Tours was behind the wheel. He’s among the first to acquaint visitors with Hampshire wine country, including tastings and tours of the vineyards. He collected me at my hotel in Winchester, England’s ancient capital, and my base for exploring Hampshire county. In a Land Rover Discovery, we cruised along country lanes and through enchanting forests. “Winemaking in the UK goes right back to Roman times,” said Tillbrook, “…but the sparkling wine business is young.” England’s got the same chalk soil as Champagne, France, located 80 miles across the English Channel. With long, hot and dry summers -- effects of global warming – the region’s climate is what Champagne enjoyed 20 years ago. The main production here is sparkling wine with an estimated 6,200 acres of planted vines, over 500 commercial vineyards, and more than 130 wineries. We visited three different and notable operations – Hambledon Vineyard, Raimes Family Vineyard, and Hattlingly Valley, all part of “Vineyards of Hampshire,” a friendly collective of vineyards that raises awareness of the acclaimed wine region that’s attracting even the French. Touring 200-acre Hambledon Vineyard, the UK’s oldest commercial vineyard and the birthplace of England’s bubblies, was a fantastic mini-course on the story of English sparkling wine. The first grapevine was planted here in 1952 by Major General Sir Guy Salisbury-Jones, a diplomat in Paris and wine lover. His friends at prestigious Pol Roger Champagne House nudged him to take the winegrower’s leap of faith and by the late 1960s his still wines were winning awards. Today, Sir Guy’s vineyard thrives and, like a leafy carpet, rolls down the south-facing slope to the road. Fast forward to 1999, a restoration of Hambledon happened when biochemist, food analyst and wine lover Ian Kellet acquired the historic vineyard. His research on the soil, climate, economics and study of oenology concluded that conditions were ripe for growing chardonnay, pinot noir and pinot meunier – the noble grape varietals used for making Champagne. In 2013, Camilla Duchess of Cornwall – she’s from a winegrowing family and was president of the UK Vineyards Association -- opened Hambledon’s winery, the only state-of-the-art gravity-fed winery in the country. “Grapes are handpicked to minimize damage,” explained Steve Lowrie, Hambledon’s gregarious marketing chief, as he led me through every step of the winemaking process. Simple gravity moves wine or must between tanks, “…not pumps, which can cause chemical changes.” Then I met Felix Gabillet, Hambledon’s onsite winemaker -- and sparkling wine guru. I was impressed to see someone so young at the helm. Together with head winemaker Herve Jestin, among the best in Champagne, the formidable pair creates utterly elegant cuvees. So how many fermentations does it take to make sparkling wine? The quick answer is two. The second fermentation is when yeast and sugar interact creating flavor, aroma, and bubbly magic. After aging on the lees (dead yeast cells) a minimum of 33 months, the yeast sediment is removed through the riddling process to achieve crystal clear champagne. “Riddling was invented by the Widow Clicquot,” said Lowrie. In 1816 Veuve Clicquot (pronounced vev KLEE-koh), the Grand Dame of Champagne, found a way to remove the yeast sediment that caused cloudy champagne. She twisted upside-down bottles ever-so-slowly until the loose yeast formed a “glob” at the neck and was then removed. The same method is used today, but the neck of the bottle is frozen so that the yeast plug (the glob) is popped out through disgorging. The bottle is finally corked, wire caged and labeled. Our next stop, Raimes Family Vineyard, got me up close to the vines. Wife-and-husband team Augusta and Robert Raimes, fifth-generation tenant farmers, have diversified into viticulture with two 20-acre vineyards. The awards they have garnered attest to the quality of grapes they cultivate. “It’s truly a labor of love,” said Augusta who studied oenology. She and Robert (an agronomist) maintain the vines with other family members. For the bigger jobs like pruning and the harvest, they bring in larger teams, Augusta explained as we bumped along a riding trail in the Raimes jeep on the way to the chardonnay paddock. “We are absolutely LOADED!” Augusta enthused as we walked a row of picture-perfect fruit. “We’re seeing an average of 20 bunches per vine – compared to only three last year because of the major frost event.” An active leader in Hampshire’s agricultural organizations, Augusta is excited about the future of English sparkling wine. Hard work got us to where we are today, she said. “But future generations – our children -- will enjoy the rewards.” At 60-acre Hattingley Valley owned by Simon and Nicola Robinson I got the bigger picture of the English sparkling wine “movement.” Portuguese-born Claudia Lopes, full of energy and knowledge, assists with Hattingley’s marketing, events and tours. She explained the all-important contract winemaking business because small vineyards (such as Raimes) don’t have wineries and therefore rely on the services of contract operations like Hattingley Valley or Hambledon Vineyard (on a smaller scale). Both use French-designed Cocquard PAI presses, the Rolls Royce of presses, that squeeze out the precious juices with gentle horizontal pressure. Emma Rice, Hattingley Valley’s award-winning winemaker (two world championships), heads a young and talented team that makes 40 different wines. It’s hard work keeping up the pace, said Lopes, but it’s a feather in their cap when clients win awards. Hattingley’s signature style incorporates the use of old French oak barrels in a small percentage of its wines. With major expansions underway at Hambledon and Hattingley and with 2018’s “harvest of the century” doubling capacity, the sparkling wine business has awakened the sleepy English countryside as winemakers, pubs, and lodgings open their doors welcoming local and international visitors eager to discover Champagne’s sister across the Channel. WHEN YOU GO: Hampshire Tours: www.hampshiretours.net Tourism Hampshire: www.visit-hampshire.co.uk Hambledon Vineyard: www.hambledonvineyard.co.uk Raimes Family Vineyard: www.raimes.co.uk Hattingley Valley: www.hattingleyvalley.com Published version: https://www.creators.com/read/travel-and-adventure/05/19/hampshire-is-blazing-the-english-sparkling-wine-trail PHOTO GALLERIES Gallery 1 (8 images) Gallery 2 (7 images)

The 30-ish woman I had met in Los Angeles grinned with nostalgia when I mentioned my recent visit to Wisconsin. So, I got it when she spoke fondly of summers at the family lake house and boating on Lake Michigan. Stunningly scenic Door County Peninsula is really an island connected to the mainland by bridges across the Sturgeon Bay Canal. Seventy-five miles long and 10 miles wide, it pokes out like a long skinny thumb from the state’s northeastern corner into Lake Michigan. The bay of Green Bay is on the other side. With 298 miles of shoreline, blissful bays, and dense forests, people looking to escape the daily grind make their way to “Cape Cod of the Midwest” -- Door County’s nickname. Sure enough, when I arrived in the village of Ephraim (founded in 1853) and walked the long driveway to my room inside a white two-story wood-framed house, it felt a lot like New England -- a swing seat on the porch outside my window, the woods behind me, Adirondack chairs, and Eagle Harbor across the street. Door Peninsula is the state’s largest county -- and a world unto its own. It’s no wonder the wilderness and charming village life here attracts visitors from around the world. Wisconsin conjures up cheese and football to most non-Wisconsinites, but I fell hook, line and sinker for Door County’s remarkable shipwreck history, Scandinavian influences and glorious outdoors. Why, then, was this paradise first named Death’s Door -- or Portes des Mortes, French for Door of the Dead? According to legend, the Ho-Chunk and Potowatomi tribes and French seafarers perished while crossing the treacherous currents between the peninsula and Washington Island becoming a “watery grave” earning its dark moniker. But as tourism increased, the morbid “D” word was dropped. Today, sunken schooners resting in peace at the bottom of the freshwater lake are an homage to Door County’s maritime legacy. On an adventurous high-speed boat tour, I held onto my hat as Captain Matt Olsen, proprietor of Door County Adventure Rafting, guided our group of four around Bailey’s Harbor in an inflatable rigid boat (like what Navy Seals use). Equal parts thrill ride and educational tour, we took in lakeside views of the peninsula, pricey cottages, learned about a once-thriving fishing industry, and cruised around tiny islands with working 19th-century lighthouses. Door County’s 11 lighthouses comprise the largest collection of guiding lights on the Great Lakes. It’s not every day that we visit shipwreck sites on a lake. After a high-gear adrenaline rush in open waters, Olson down-shifted to motor around shoals to view wreckage that had worked its way to shallow banks. “This wooden beam is just a small piece from any number of larger boats that sank miles away,” explained Olsen – some of the mystique that lures both sport divers and academics to Door County. “Marine archeologists from the University of Wisconsin dive the wrecks and map them out to protect and preserve them.” At the Door County Maritime Museum these findings, including shipwreck maps, artifacts, and the area’s shipbuilding history with the chance to explore every inch of the legendary Tug John Purves built in 1919 – paints the story of maritime commerce around the Great Lakes that connects to the Atlantic Ocean by way of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The peninsula’s earliest settlers from Sweden and Norway were also lured to the peninsula because its lush landscapes, rugged coastline, abundant fishing and logging were reminders of the homeland. That explains the Scandinavian traditions and cuisine around Door County – from “Midsommar” festival in June celebrating the arrival of summer, and outdoor fish boils on the lake at Rowley’s Bay waterfront resort where whitefish and potatoes boil in a giant cauldron on an open fire – the original group meal that used to feed lumberjacks and fishermen. Architecture is no exception. Like the authentic Norwegian log building housing Al Johnson’s Swedish Restaurant in Sister Bay. Made with Norwegian yellow pine, rosemaling (delicate floral painting), and a sod rooftop (look for grazing goats!), it was constructed in Norway, disassembled for transport to Door County, then rebuilt. The iconic log building, including a “butik” (Scandinavian gift shop) has become a beloved Door County attraction. And my taste buds danced with delight at the first bite of Swedish pancakes folded like linen napkins, fresh lingonberries and exquisite chunks of pickled herring. Door County’s Peninsula State Park is the “crown jewel” of the state park system. Its somewhat-rounded shape jutting out into Green Bay reminded me of British Columbia’s Stanley Park – but four times bigger (over 3,700 square acres). It’s a one-stop outdoor destination with hiking, bicycling, camping, a golf course, Eagle Bluff Lighthouse, famous Nicolet Bay Beach, and the renowned open-air Northern Sky Theater. I could hear a pin drop bicycling through the quiet forest, that is, until a few inclines challenged my cardio fitness. On another night I returned to the depths of the forest and under a starry sky joined a full house for opening night of “Boxcar,” a heartwarming Wisconsin story of a boy and a vagabond. Another reminder of Door County’s extraordinary place on the planet is The Ridges Sanctuary, designated a National Natural Landmark in 1937. This sandy landscape of crescent-shaped ridges and boreal forest is home to the most biologically diverse ecosystem in Wisconsin. Rare and endangered insects and flora thrive here, including the Hines Emerald Dragonfly and indigenous orchids that caught the eye of the Smithsonian Institute, which now partners with The Ridges in a continent-wide orchids study. “Our goal is not gardening or farming…we don’t water or weed,” said Ridges board member Jane Whitney, as we “tramped” underneath the forest canopy through marshes and bogs on a raised meandering boardwalk (wheelchair- and stroller-friendly) to the backdrop of soothing bird calls, a turtle bobbing above the lily pads, and a non-poisonous snake unaffected by our presence. “The Ridges’ mission,” she said, “… is long-term research and education.” Whitney’s stories about The Ridges Sanctuary thoroughly captivated me -- but then again, everything else I discovered around Door County Peninsula was anything but ordinary. WHEN YOU GO: Door County Visitor Bureau: www.doorcounty.com Door County Maritime Museum: www.dcmm.org Door County Adventure Rafting: www.doorcountyadventurerafting.com The Ridges Sanctuary: www.ridgessanctuary.org My accommodation: Eagle Harbor Inn, www.eagleharbor.com Published version: https://www.creators.com/read/travel-and-adventure/04/19/door-county-cape-cod-of-the-midwest PHOTO GALLERIES Gallery 1 (3 images) Gallery 2 (8 images)