At the edge of the world map, deep in the South Pacific, is an island nation known for adventure. A remote technicolor paradise of volcano and glaciation, New Zealand is a mythical and moving place. The deep and patient culture of the Polynesian Maoris dance harmoniously with the wild hearts of Kiwis eager to play throughout the island nation’s wild, rugged, and unimaginably beautiful playground. In Queenstown, the adventure capital of the world, every cute barista and elderly bus driver has bungy-ed, canyoned, an skydived through infinite instances of adventure, all with the sparkling eyes of an adrenaline junkie. Here, the culture of the town is run on meat pies, cold brews, and thrill. Here, it seems that all conversation about what is good and fun in life in condensed into, “Did you jump? How high?”.
For longer than the western world can remember, there have been Maharajas and Maharanis ruling India in splendid celebration and ceremonial furor. Age after age of vast kingdoms ruled from colorful palaces, developing their own science, medicine and philosophy, and warring for Gods, for love, and for land. The history of India is so rich and immense, visualizing it is much like watching a Bollywood movie; a dizzying display of passion, pride, and colorful celebration. Five hundred years after the golden age of Indian royalty, Josh and I have arrived at the steps of the Neemrana Fort Palace, and the sun is rising.
In Greek mythology Dionysus is a goddess of wine, ritual madness, and ecstasy, and she never misses a summer in Mykonos. A playground for gods and mortals alike, when the Grecian sun sets in Mykonos the wind stays warm and music turns up. Laughter and the clinks of glass are swept off to sea with the night winds, and are brought right back in the mist drifting off the shore break. Even the Aegean sea yearns to be closer, and knows that the ritual madness of Mykonos really is not to be missed.
Directly across the caldera’s sapphire waters from Oia, resides a most curious and technicolor paradise. Near the Akrotiri ruins, hides a cove fit for the sirens of Homer’s Odyssey. Striking Blood red cliffs dip sharply to the shore, where pebbles of black and garnet join a teal sea, and coalesce into an almost violet shorebreak. I was speechless before such strangeness, such color. Did we quad to the edge of the sea, or of space?
Plato’s Atlantis, Homer’s Odyssey, nor Lena’s summer with the traveling pants could have properly prepared me for the deeply breathtaking serenity of the volcanic caldera of Santorini. Greece’s deep and mystical history seem to anchor heaven (or Olympus) right to the sapphire waters of this island, creating an ethereal energy almost overwhelming in its peace. Under the Grecian sun, deep in the reverie, it's as if a cool breeze could come and fill your ear with a siren’s promise of secrets from the future, and you’d still turn them down for this blissful present.
Thousands of years ago, great minds strolled the agora under the shade of olive trees, and conversated into existence democracy, philosophy, theater, and the academy. Under Apollo’s merciless sun, we hiked up the Acropolis of Athens like honored disciples, kicking up the same earth that once stuck to Plato’s sandals. Athens is a mythical and historic place, brimming with a stoic and knowing energy that only comes with thousands of years of experience, and many gods on your side. The Pantheon temple itself has been copied around the world, from French Parliament to the U.S. Supreme Court, and yet still remains a true and constant symbol of the incredible glories of the Greek legacy and all of its marvelous contributions to modern society. The country that created democracy, drama, and tzatziki? Let Hades have me before I leave Greece!
The Croatian sun melted into the horizon, casting a warm glow on the honey colored stones of the castle high above. The Hvar harbor soon filled with mega yachts that could eclipse the sun, returning with precious cargoes of beautiful people toasting to another day on the pristine Adriatic. Surrounded by near silent fishing villages, Hvar is a concentrated Croatian celebration of the freedom, beauty, and ease of life at sea. As music bled from every open door and local swimmers splashed un-phased till very last light, it seems in Hvar, night or day, you’re here to play.