The Waikoloa Petroglyph Field is one of the best preserved sites of its kind in Hawaii. Found just north of the border between the ancient kingdoms of Kohala and Kona, this impressive lava field has one of the largest major concentrations of ancient rock carvings in all the Hawaiian Islands.

People wishing to cross the border between the ancient kingdoms of Kohala and Kona needed permission to do so. While waiting, they would sometimes make simple encampments to shelter themselves from the elements within the caves and rock walls scattered throughout the lava field. The surface carvings they left behind may have been made to commemorate an important ritual, such as one of religious significance, or a birth, or other noteworthy event.

The numerous carvings are believed to date back to between 1000 and 1800 A.D., and depict figures of humans, animals, and religious symbols. Most of the carvings were chiseled into the surface using sharp and blunt hammering stones, while others were rubbed, pounded, or incised there.

I had the opportunity to visit this rocky field alone, and had it all to myself on a hot summer day when most tourists were lounging by the sea, the poolside, or indulging in the many attractions this beautiful island has to offer. With every step I took, I thought about the ancient ones who were here before me. I felt a secret thrill at their nearness, as though I could reach out, slowly draw back the thin veil of time separating us, and touch them. I could almost hear their steps, sense their thoughts, and feel the beating of their hearts with every breath I took. The same trade winds caressing my skin filled their lungs with air. The same sun beating down on my head, heated their path. For an exhilarating moment I was lost in time—somewhere between the present and past—an eternal NOW, existing, feeling, yearning, connecting with those who were here before me.

Where do the roads lead? Where do they come from? It is a mystery. This rocky field is desolate and abandoned, more so because I am alone, and yet I turn to glance around me, almost glimpsing the ancient ones, feeling their timeless presence. I wonder what secrets and mysteries the rocks hold. What have they heard, what have they witnessed? I ponder each step I take and wonder about those who came before me: where were they going, and where did they come from?

I see birds and lizards on my path and think that they too are descendants of the ancient creatures that came before them. Past and Present appear to merge as the veil is not only drawn back, but ripped away in a passionate moment. The experience is rather exciting. It is the kind of emotion derived from traveling back in time through ruins and ancient things, to feel the eternal human condition that unifies us all. Yes, that hot summer day was an experience to remember. Perhaps someday, another lone visitor will sense the presence of my fiery soul among the many who traversed that vast, desolate field, and step away with a sense of wonder as well.

I visited this museum on my own during a cold winter day lit by a frosty sun whose hazy light filtered through the tall windows of the artist’s distinguished old home. While it was cold outside, the artwork, décor and style of the old home enveloped me in a kind of atmospheric romance and coziness.

Joaquin Sorolla met with a number of successes during his life. His was not the struggling, impoverished life of many artists at the time. He was even nominated as Knight of the Legion of Honor in 1900, and earned several medals of honor at exhibitions. His work – mostly portraits and landscapes – is known for its luminous quality that appears to glow from within. My personal favorites are his paintings by the sea and on the beach. They seem most alive, most beautiful, even capturing the essence of joy in a moment which cannot really be described; it can only be glimpsed and felt.

Take Walk on the Beach, for instance. The two female subjects in the painting are his wife on the left, and his daughter on the right. They were captured in a seemingly unguarded moment as they strolled by the seashore. The women’s dresses billow softly in the breeze, reflecting a brilliant white in the sun. There is something elegant and graceful in their poses, a certain rapture depicted in the luminous hues of the work.

Then there is The Horse’s Bath. The horse, in typical Sorollan style, is an unblemished white. The boy leading him out of the water by a rope is also unblemished and luminous, bathed in a sheen of water which catches the light of the sun. The sand, the sea, and the sailboats in the background all bring this piece to life. I can almost picture myself there, feeling the sun’s warmth on my skin, hearing the water gently lapping at the shore.

Here is a self-portrait of the artist depicted in full-beard. I would have preferred him clean-shaven, but understand that it would have been easier not to shave daily, as it would free up more time for his work. Joaquin Sorolla himself was an interesting man. He was physically attractive with something intense in his expression. I especially like studying the artist through his work, as it seems to hint at the depth of the man’s soul and the beauty dwelling there.

Every room in the museum serves as a reminder of the home’s gracious origins. There are large drawing rooms, elegant parlors and cozy sitting rooms, complete with furniture that beckons one to sit a moment and ponder the surroundings. As I moved from room to room, I almost fancied an impeccably dressed footman suddenly appearing at my side with a service tray.

“A cup of tea, my lady, or perhaps a glass of champagne?” he would say with a slight bow.

And I, startled at his sudden appearance, but hiding it well, would hesitate only momentarily as I glanced at the tray. The champagne is certainly enticing, but I’d rather be perfectly lucid before taking the subway and walking the rest of the way back to my flat from here. So I incline my head, and gratefully accept the cup of tea with a soft smile, “thank you, sir.”

Ah, if only in my imagination. But yes, this museum inspires such thoughts from this writer. It is worth a visit any time of the year, but perhaps more so on a cold, dreary day with few visitors around, so you can feel as though you are a special guest, and you have the old house all to yourself. It’s the best way to immerse yourself in the sublimity of his work.

For more information visit Sorolla Museum.

We usually stay at a charming resort overlooking the ocean. The town, quaint and very appealing, is perfect for exploring with its boutique shops, restaurants, cafes and all sorts of beach-town fun.

Carlsbad

There is a lot to do in and around Carlsbad. From spending a day at Legoland with the little ones, to strolling through the Flower Fields with almost 50 acres of colorful plants and flowers, to exploring the coastal wetlands of one of the nearby lagoons, or just enjoying the beach or town attractions.

Legoland’s Taj Mahal

For those who like venturing out a bit farther, Temecula Valley Wine Country is less than an hour’s drive. My favorite thing to do when visiting Temecula is strolling through the vineyards. Feeling the sun warm my back, the earth crunch softly underfoot, the grapes ripening on the vine, the soft buzzing of insects and the endless sky above makes for one of those sublime sensual experiences. While most people are crowding around the bar, sampling the wine inside one of the kid-friendly wineries, I prefer to escape to the vineyard itself to get away from it all. This is where I imagine that I am far away, perhaps Tuscany or in the Bordeaux Region.

A vineyard at Temecula

Another great venue is the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. It too is less than an hour’s drive from Carlsbad, and makes for a fun day’s excursion for the whole family.

Lions at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park

My favorite activity by far is walking on the strand by the beach. The water sparkles brilliantly with reflected sunlight, and the salty breeze seems to wash right through my soul. Sometimes I stand at the bridge over the inlet and turn my face to the sea, closing my eyes briefly to surrender myself to the heady rapture of the moment. I like to imagine that I’m standing at the bows of a ship as the wind blows through my hair and fills me with a kind of euphoria. Where do I wish to go? I have only to imagine it, to make it so. Perhaps the Cyclades Islands in the Aegean Sea; or the Galapagos in the Pacific. The World is suddenly at my whim, as my spirit soars in the moment. The experience is utterly romantic and sweeps me away for the duration of my walk. Yes, I am in Carlsbad, but my mind is flying free, carried on the sea breeze, tangy and oh so delicious.

Once the day is done and the westering sun is deepening its descent, I love watching the sea turn to gold. There is a glorious stillness to the hour, made more poignant by the seaside’s enchantment. The pounding of the surf on the sand echoes the life bursting within my breast.

Yes, Carlsbad makes for a lovely escape, being so close to home. It has something for everyone in the family. But it is its seaside charm that draws us back again and again.

The Museo del Prado was such a place.

Each time I made my way through the grand entrance, I felt a sense of enchantment. I almost fancied my ankle-length coat was a long gown from a bygone era. I glanced up at the massive columns of the portico, and then stepped through the doors as though into a palace.

The building itself is a historic structure originally commissioned during the reign of Charles III in 1785. During the Peninsular War between Napoleon and the allied powers of Britain, Spain and Portugal, it was even used as a gunpowder-store and cavalry headquarters for the Napoleonic troops based in Madrid.

Everything about the Prado enchanted me. From the gleaming marble floors, to the soaring vaulted ceiling, to the endless white galleries and halls hung with beautiful masterpieces. Even the smell of the interior evoked another place and time, transporting me instantly to centuries past.

There were days where I could enter one of the rooms and have it all to myself, then sit quietly on a bench and contemplate what those larger-than-life paintings have seen. Often I would step up closer to gaze into the eyes of one of the subjects, only to have them stare right back at me. What were they thinking in the moment they were immortalized by the artist? What secrets did they keep?

Diego Velazquez’s Las Meninas seems to beckon the onlooker to step inside the room depicted in the 10’5” by 9’1” painting.  I could almost smell the carved heavy wood furniture, the woolen carpets, and the fragrance of lavender and jasmine drifting in from the windows which would certainly have been left open to clear away some of the odor of the turpentine and oil paints. Feelings of anticipation and excitement create a stir as the King and Queen prepare to enter the room and see Velazquez’s work for themselves.

Albrecht Dürer’s Self-portrait has a knowing look, almost daring the viewer to discern his thoughts.

The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch is a fascinating biblical narrative in triptych form that is so detailed, one can visit the museum many times and still not take it all in.

Then there is El Greco’s The Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest. Something about the portrait is arresting and captivates the onlooker. Perhaps it is the feeling evident in the eyes of the lord. But then again, is it sincerity or lordly disdain? The way his right hand rests over his chest suggests a promise made, or a moment of revelation. His bearing is self-assured and dignified, down to the detail of his fine clothes, valuable sword, and the costly medallion peeking beneath his doublet. The slight lift of his brow is compelling and persuasive. The set of his mouth, decisive. Although the painting dates back to about 1580, it seems very much alive. Very real. I feel as though I could reach up and touch the texture of the nobleman’s face, and feel the bones of his slender fingers. His jaw would undoubtedly tense in surprise as I took the liberty of brushing the curve of his cheek. But then his hand would certainly close over mine in a firm grip once he regained his composure.

Such are the thoughts of a writer’s imagination. For the Prado is a place of secrets, revelations, and never-ending tales.  A place where beauty has been immortalized, and emotions have been preserved in all their agony or delight, pleasure or pain. A place where the human condition is captured and displayed in all its existential truth.

In addition to exquisite works by masters such as Diego Velázquez, Hieronymus Bosch, Peter Paul Rubens, Titian, Raphael, Rembrandt, El Greco, and Francisco de Goya, the Prado’s vast collection includes thousands of paintings, drawings, prints, artifacts and sculptures. It is a veritable palace; a feast for the senses, and a banquet for the soul. There is a kind of sacred splendor about the place that is worth a thousand visits. A place to think and feel and dream. A place that offered me solace from the poignant longing and loneliness which were my close companions while living so far away from home.

The Prado’s graceful galleries and timeless masterpieces beckon with the promise of enchantment. It is worth getting swept away into another time, even if only for the duration of one’s visit. It will always be a special place to me. I’m sure this is due in part to my intensely romantic nature, which has only deepened with time.

I give El Greco’s Nobleman one last glance before departing, and he seems to press his hand a little more firmly to his chest, and dip his head into the slightest of nods in reply. He remains with Las Meninas, Dürer’s Self-portrait, and the countless other portraits, landscapes and sculptures there, to ponder the existential points of life. I am sure the museum’s halls echo with their whispering voices when no one is around.

Such is the power of beauty and imagination, and the museums which house their products.  The Prado opened up another world to me every time I stepped through its majestic entrance.

It may for you as well.

On a beclouded winter day, when the sun cast a soft glow through the subdued haze and a mild gust stirred the air, I had the pleasure of visiting the South Coast Botanic Garden with my family. We picked a day that happened to be perfect: not too cold or too hot, and uncrowded, this urban oasis made for an easy escape from the harried city of Los Angeles.

Who would have thought that this special place is one of the world’s first botanical gardens to be developed over a sanitary landfill? I did not know this until quite some time after I had visited. It was only when I came to write about this enchanted venue that I learned this. In fact, while doing a bit of background research, I found myself drawn off topic altogether onto a tangent which led me to learning more about landfills! Tangents can be fascinating, although this one took the better part of an hour so that the gardens had to wait while I was drawn into the intriguing world of waste management and landfill sites. It may sound unsavory, but it’s a very important part of life. It’s almost like sewer treatment, which is interesting also, and another tangent I will refrain from taking now. While it’s not something one would talk about at a social function, I immediately shared what I learned with my family because the whole landfill process is actually very interesting. But then again, I tend to find almost any topic interesting… almost.

Now that the South Coast Botanic Garden’s humble beginnings have been revealed, I will return to the garden itself, a much more lovely and palatable topic.

The Garden covers 87 acres with a wide diversity of shrubs, trees, and colorful flowers blooming throughout the year. There are plants native to California, attracting lots of birds, bees and butterflies. There are also numerous flowers among lush greenery including roses, carnations, poppies, dahlias, sage, sunflowers, daisies, lilies and many more blooms. One almost does not know where to look first. Every corner, every spot—sunny or shady—has its treasures waiting to be discovered. It’s beautiful.

Imagine strolling along the open paths or the narrower windy trails and pausing to see dew drops collect on silken webs like delicate strands of tiny pearls. They reflect the dappled light with a soft luster which only nature can bestow.

There are the popular Children’s Garden and Discovery Garden incorporating nursery rhymes with plants to match the stories. Things like a dollhouse and bridge, a secret tunnel, worm bin, alphabet garden, butterfly garden, and whimsical characters delight children’s imaginations.

Other highlights include the Desert Garden, Display Greenhouse, Japanese Garden and Koi Pond, Mediterranean Garden, Rose Garden, a tranquil lake with turtles and dragonflies, a Palm Collection, Redwood Grove, Vegetable Garden, Ficus Collection, Rare Fruit Orchard, Gift Shop, Picnic Area and Amphitheatre.

But my personal favorite is the Banyan Grove. I’ve always loved Banyan trees because they just appear so massive and dominating and powerful. One cannot help feeling small next to them, though that’s not an unpleasant thing at all. Banyans are the world’s biggest trees in terms of the area they cover. These strangler fig trees overpower and smother their hosts, sending down roots which grow into stout pillars appearing like new tree trunks. It is said that Alexander the Great was so fascinated by them, he had notes and illustrations taken back to Greece to share with Theophrastus, the founder of modern botany. Their prehistoric allure is utterly romantic. They tug at the imagination with their imposing strength—-mine at least.

Their massive tangle of roots and cool understory are almost like something out of a fairy tale. I feel as though I have stepped into an enchanted forest far away from civilization: a place where nature rules, mighty, indomitable and uncompromising, but benevolent enough if you approach with a humble sense of awe. I enjoy meandering through the grove in a kind of enraptured trance, half-expecting a horse and its fearless rider to appear suddenly through the trees. Who goes there? I ask in a shaky whisper, turning suddenly to glance around. But it is only a fallen leaf, or so I tell myself while exhaling the breath I was not even aware I held.

Yes, places like this do strange and wondrous things to the imagination. They breathe a vivid and fanciful dimension into life, sprinkling it with a liberal dose of mystery and romance as nature often does.

Come see the Banyan Grove and numerous other splendid things at the South Coast Botanic Gardens. Whether you spend half an hour, or half a day, it will be time well-spent. The Garden is open from 9:00-5:00 daily year-round except for Christmas Day, with a variety of programs and events for families and kids. There are docent-led tours, tram tours, or simply self-guided walking tours if you so desire, and which I personally find to be the most intimate and enjoyable. I have not seen my imaginary horse and fearless rider in the Banyan Grove yet, but perhaps you will. Please send him my regards if you do…

Hearst Castle by Durova CC BY-SA 3.0

Hearst Castle was once a vacation home belonging to newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst. It sits high atop a hill in San Simeon, California, overlooking the Pacific Ocean.  Its location is certainly beautiful, and was aptly named “La Cuesta Encantada,” The Enchanted Hill, for the views are simply enchanting. It was first opened to the public in 1958 after becoming a California State Park in 1954.

I had the opportunity to visit this site for the second time in my life some months back. The first time I went, I was a child of about eleven or twelve, so my impressions were quite different.  What impressed me most during my childhood visit were the swimming pools. I have always been drawn to water, so gazing upon their sparkling depths, was like staring at a pastry locked behind a glass cabinet: I could look all I wished, but I could not touch, no matter how much I longed to do so. And for someone who loved to swim almost as much as a fish, this unfulfilled longing bordered on a kind of torture. Oh how I wanted to dive into those pools…

Neptune Pool by Stan Shebs CC BY-SA 3.0

NEPTUNE POOL

The Neptune Pool, empty during our recent visit while it undergoes restoration, is an outdoor pool with fountains, marble sculptures, marble pavilions, and an ancient temple façade. It offers gorgeous views of the coastline, the property, and the Pacific Ocean.

ROMAN POOL

This indoor pool is an artistic masterpiece. It was inspired by the ancient Roman baths of Caracalla from the early third century AD. Copies of ancient Greek and Roman statues, mosaic glass tiles fused with gold, vaulted arches, and the domed ceiling are all exquisite. What attracted me most was that the water was actually heated during its heyday. Now that is luxury. I think I could spend hours in such a pool.

Hearst Castle by King of Hearts CC BY-SA 3.0

ESTATE

Hearst Castle features the main “castle” called Casa Grande, and three guest houses known as Casa del Mar, Casa del Monte, and Casa del Sol. Casa Grande is what attracts most visitors. The estate has 56 bedrooms, 61 bathrooms, 19 sitting rooms, over 100 acres of gardens, tennis courts, a movie theater, and indoor and outdoor swimming pools. At the time of Mr. Hearst’s ownership, it also included an airfield, and the world’s largest private zoo with a diverse collection of wild animals grazing freely over the hills. Included among the animals were camels, deer, ostriches, emus, antelope, zebras, llamas, kangaroos and sheep. Other animals like giraffes, tigers, bears, lions, leopards, chimpanzees, orangutans, monkeys, macaws, and an elephant were kept in menagerie cages. Today, zebras can still be seen roaming the hillside.

View from a terrace at Hearst Castle
by Daderot CC0

CASA GRANDE

Casa Grande’s décor is an eclectic mix of architectural styles and elements that Mr. Hearst acquired during his extensive travels around the world. There are large European oil paintings, tapestries, rugs, furniture, decorative pieces of art, a rare-books collection, and even Egyptian artifacts dating back to more than two millennia.

A MELANCHOLIC ENCHANTMENT

While the design is handsome, and each component chosen with obvious care, the overall effect of the estate left me a little ambivalent. Perhaps that is why I waited some months to write about it after my most recent visit. Yes, Hearst Castle is beautiful, but it’s also forlorn. There is something hollow and gloomy about it. It is like a body without a soul. I would even go as far as to say that it reflects the man who had it built. He traveled far and wide, searching for priceless artifacts with which to fill the house, but the resulting effect was rather like an orphanage of uprooted valuable pieces all housed in permanent exile in one place. The built-in carved wood seats lining the dining room wall seem to pine for the old European monastery from whence they came. The elaborate stone fireplace sits cold and brooding over its genteel past. The centuries-old ceilings gaze not upon the graceful mansions and palaces from where they came, but upon an incongruous collection bordering on the ostentatious. It is almost gaudy in its proportions, as though the Master of the house went on a shopping spree and binged on a varied assortment of precious artifacts he was determined to find a place for in his new home; determined to fill a void that perhaps nothing tangible could fill. It left me with a feeling of melancholy. A subtle despondence that lingered even after leaving the estate.

Hearst Castle by Zlatko CC BY-SA 3.0

Regardless, Hearst Castle is definitely worth a visit. It will be especially appreciated by those who enjoy things at face value which is, perhaps, the best way to approach this California Historical Landmark. But I could not help imagining the artifacts as they once were in their points of origin.  I had a home in France, one relic would whisper in reminiscence. And I in Belgium, another would say. And I in an ancient Egyptian temple, a third would reply.

And so the castle goes on murmuring its secrets when no one is around. Its relics tell their many tales with all the wistful eloquence of a bygone time. But I’m sure I caught a word or two of their nostalgic undertones. If you listen carefully, you just might hear them too.

And that alone makes a visit worthwhile.

Street of Pompeii
photo by Paul Vlaar CC BY-SA 3.0

Seldom have ancient ruins stirred one as do those of Pompeii. The catastrophic eruption that buried this seaside resort town in AD 79 preserved it with remarkable detail. So much so in fact, that it is this town which has provided much evidence of life in ancient Rome for historians to study.

The region of Campania by the Bay of Naples in Italy was no stranger to seismic activity. There was much evidence found during excavations that attested to this fact by repairs done on Pompeii’s temples, water systems, houses and public buildings. Only sixteen years before the deadly eruption of Mount Vesuvius, a massive earthquake caused much damage to the town. But people were quick to forgive nature’s fury and overlook its volatile temper, opting to remain in the thriving resort town that drew many wealthy Romans, merchants and service classes to its lush and fertile grounds.

Mount Vesuvius rising behind the ruins of Pompeii
photo by Kim Traynor CC BY-SA 3.0

Walking through the excavated ruins of Pompeii is like stepping back in time almost two millennia ago. Pompeii is the quintessential Roman town complete with a forum, temples, civic buildings, amphitheater, theater, ordered neighborhood blocks comprising of tenements and upper class villas, shops, workshops, taverns, public bath houses, a city wall, and well-kept roads connecting everything inside the luxury city.

Remains of House of the Faun
photo by Porsche997SBS CC BY-SA 3.0

Visitors can walk in the footsteps of ancient Romans as they made their way on the streets to buy or sell things from the marketplace. Or as they flocked to the great arena for the games displayed in bloody glory including gladiatorial combats. Or as they went about their daily work and pleasure in the seaside town that was drenched in golden sunlight and endless possibilities. Life was good. Especially for the upper classes.

But on that fateful day in late August of AD 79, all that changed. People stared at the sky when a strange mushroom cloud was spewed from the crater of Mount Vesuvius. They were mesmerized by its colossal size and ominous appearance. Many abandoned the town after the initial earthquakes leading up to the eruption, but others stayed, whether by choice or by obligation.

Garden of the Fugitives
photo by Lancevortex CC BY-SA 3.0

It was the fallout that buried the town and preserved it with such detail. Freshly baked bread was found to remain in situ in a clay oven. Exquisite frescos and mosaics were uncovered in stunning colors and patterns. Jewelry, homes, and artifacts galore—including armor and weapons from gladiators—have been found buried there. But what is perhaps most touching are the human plaster casts of the people who died there. No matter what artifacts and architecture have been preserved, it is its people that are the most poignant and precious discovery of all. Perhaps because it is a reminder of our own mortality, and of the fleeting nature of this life. It is also a reminder that amid the ruins and ashes of this life, our dreams and desires transcend the boundaries of the moment, linking us with our ancestors across the great sea of time.

Upon passing through the main entrance to the Westin Kierland Resort & Spa, one is greeted by tall palms flanking the drive like sentinels at attention. I couldn’t help whispering aloud, Ah… the avenue of palm trees, for I was reminded of the Avenue of Sphinxes leading to a grand temple in the desert of ancient Egypt. Only this lush avenue leads to a desert oasis in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Everything about this resort is beautiful and blends perfectly into the lovely Scottsdale landscape, from the pools and manicured gardens, to the restaurants and countless amenities.

But my personal favorite is strolling on the golf course at sunset, after the westering sun has swept its majestic way across a dazzling sapphire sky, and the last of the golfers has long since departed. That is when a lone bagpiper in full Scottish Highland regalia takes up a haunting tune that echoes over Dreamweavers Canyon through the sloping green fairways. He moves along the edge of green, a lonely silhouette cut against a painted sky ablaze in crimson and gold. Deepening shadows spread over the canyon and the sound of a screeching bird seems to transcend the boundaries of time.

It is a little mesmerizing. Is he the Pied Piper? I find myself transfixed.

There is a glorious stillness to the hour, a splendor that saturates the very depths of my soul. It is made more acute by the bagpiper’s keen and poignant melodies. I close my eyes, half expecting to open them again and see a clan of men galloping on horseback toward me.

But none appear. It is only my imagination carrying me away to a long forgotten time.

If the palm-flanked entrance of the resort reminded me of ancient Egypt, Dreamweavers Canyon took me straight to Scotland. Traditional tunes like Scotland the Brave/Rowan Tree, Highland Cathedral, Loch Lomond, and Caledonia seem to transport listeners to another place and time. A time of chivalry and honor.

The experience was rather sublime.

The beauty of the setting, my own intensely romantic imagination, and the bagpiper’s haunting tune made me ache with a kind of longing. There was a serenity of the moment, made more poignant by the breathtaking surroundings. This is one truly special feature that sets this resort apart from others.

There are plenty of activities to keep families happily busy here all day long: from three heated outdoor pools, a 110-foot waterslide, 900-foot lazy river and an adult lap pool, to a FlowRider, two lighted tennis courts, a fitness studio, family kids club, a full-service spa, and more. There is the golf course too, naturally, though I prefer strolling along there at sunset when the bagpiper arrives.

Dining at the resort is excellent, and a free shuttle service is also available to drop off guests at the restaurants and shops located just across the boulevard.

Despite all the wonderful amenities this resort has to offer, it was the Scottish bagpipes at sunset that won me over. Even now, if I close my eyes and recall his beautiful playing, I find myself swept away to the rugged beauty of the Scottish Highlands.

Perhaps someday I will.

But for now, I would visit the Westin Kierland again if only for this enchanting experience.

For more information on the resort, visit kierlandresort.com.

Not to be confused with the beach by the same name in Florida, Coco Plum Beach was my favorite beach on the island of Great Exuma, and easily the most beautiful beach I have ever visited as an adult, the other being one I went to as a child in the Caribbean.

Several things make Coco Plum Beach the best on my list: It’s remote and deserted, it’s pristine, and the water is unparalleled: warm and crystal-clear, with sandbars that stretch out like long slender arms reaching across a barren sea.

At low tide, the water arrives ankle-deep in parts, and to the shins in others. With the sand so soft and powder-white, the water looks like a swimming pool. The sun sparkles on its surface, illuminating the shallow depths. On one day, I walked all the way to a small island: a craggy outcrop in the sea, mostly covered with shrubs and rocks, and a small sandy beach. I had to swim the last 30 yards or so, but only because I could barely touch the bottom with my toes. Once there, I walked to the other side and took in the view: A reef separated the small island from the open sea. Then, not wanting to get caught in the rising tide and currents, I headed back to Coco Plum Beach, swimming a ways before climbing back up the sandbar and wading through the water which now arrived at my waist. It was exhilarating. Not another soul was in sight, except for my family who had remained on the beach.

The beach with its sandbars is also known for sand dollars lying half-buried on the shallow sandy floor. We must have found over 100 of them. It was like searching for treasure! We let the live ones go, and kept only those whose occupants had long since departed their delicate shells.

This beach was by far the highlight of my visit. All the sparkling, unspoiled beauty of the island is captured by this long stretch of deserted white sand fringed with shrubs and low pines on one side, and crystalline water on the other. That’s all. No people, no shacks, no venders, no concession stands, no music. It is totally unspoiled and intensely romantic for those who are enchanted by natural beauty and things untouched by civilization.

It is truly something like the Blue Lagoon, only better because of the sandbars. There is a haunting beauty about remote places. A secluded splendor. They are steeped in solitude and seem to unleash one’s vivid imagination.

It certainly did for mine.

The first thing that came to mind when I visited Alderbrook Resort & Spa was a dearly loved poem by Robert Frost: “The Road Not Taken.”  Two roads diverged in a yellow wood… begins the famous poem. Only this particular wood is green and lies along the Hood Canal, and it led us to Alderbrook.

The setting of this resort is magnificent

In a word, it’s idyllic. It makes the most of the spectacular scenery and location.

View of the dock

The charm of nature is unparalleled, and evident in every detail at this resort, from the cozy cottages, to the stately pines reaching for a benevolent sky, to the tranquil waters of the Hood Canal that simply took my breath away. I am a city girl, not by choice but by necessity, and this place struck a deep chord. I have always preferred remote locations especially by the water, and reveled in the symphony of silence, and Alderbrook certainly was a treat. It has the best of modern luxuries while being tucked away in one of the Northwest’s most magnificent settings. Can you ask for anything more?

ACCOMMODATIONS

The resort has 77 guest rooms and 16 cottages, each with complimentary Wi-Fi, Keurig single cup coffee and tea selections, plush linens, sumptuous bath products, and attention to detail which leaves one rested and rejuvenated.

One of the sixteen cottages at the resort

We stayed in one of the charming cottages nestled on the picturesque shores of the Hood Canal, and surrounded by trees and breathtaking beauty.

Living room of our cottage

The spacious cottages come with one or two bedrooms, separate living rooms, fully-furnished kitchens, and fireplaces which would be perfect for the cooler months.

View of the Hood Canal from our cottage window

They have the cozy feel of a beach or lake house with gorgeous views of the Hood Canal and Olympic Mountains.

AMENITIES

The resort boasts a full-service spa, indoor swimming pool and whirlpool, steam room and sauna, first-class restaurant and bar, an 18-hole PGA golf course, tennis courts, 1500 linear-foot dock with guest moorage and boat rentals, water sports, and miles of groomed nature trails for hiking.

Indoor swimming pool

The hiking trails were a favorite. I like imagining I am wandering through the primeval wood. It is easy to do so with the moss-draped trees, lush ferns and foliage, and the sound of a creek winding below the undergrowth. I felt like I was in another place and time, far away from civilization.

The nature trails are so lush and inviting

Some water sports we enjoyed were kayaking, paddle boating, and hydro cycling. The canal waters are calm and perfect for this.

Kayaking is one of the many activities offered here

Strolling out on the dock at dusk, just after the sun has dipped below the horizon, and an enchanting stillness claims the air is sublime.  The breeze picks up then, carrying the sweet and briny tang of the saltwater which fills the senses with a kind of bliss.

Every hour of the day has it splendor

DINING

Dining at the resort was always excellent. The Restaurant at Alderbrook offers breakfast, lunch and dinner, making it very convenient for guests of the resort. It also boasts gorgeous views of the Hood Canal, and a wonderful variety of wines and freshly prepared cuisine to suit even the most discriminating palate.

Grand Marnier prawns

Things like grand marnier prawns, clams in a white wine butter sauce, clam chowder, fish and chips, caesar salad, risotto, salmon, berkshire pork chop and duck confit are savory and satisfying.

Duck confit

Their desserts are tempting as well, including such fare as chocolate napoleon and vanilla bean creme brulee. There is also outdoor dining on the Patio, complete with live music Wednesday through Sunday evenings.

Another stunning view at dusk

The resort has a gift shop, complimentary electric vehicle charging station, pet-friendly rooms, a “Gamers’ Hideaway” with Xbox, nine 37” TVs, and one 55” TV, each with individual Xbox and Turtle Beach headset. There are ballrooms and conference centers for private events as well. The resort’s own Lady Alderbrook—a 54-foot boat—is available for scenic sunset cruises, private events, and more.

The shores at low tide

This idyllic escape is only about two hours west of Seattle and north of Portland, and located on 88 verdant acres with panoramic views of the tranquil canal and Olympic Mountains, yet it’s truly a haven when you want to get away from it all.

Borrowing Robert Frost’s words,

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—   I took the one to Alderbrook, And that has made all the difference.

For more information visit Alderbrook.