Vietnamese cuisine is often more subtle than its neighbors’. Traditional Vietnamese cooking is characterized by its emphasis on fresh ingredients, minimal use of dairy and oil, variety of textures, and a reliance on herbs and vegetables. In northern Vietnam, a colder climate limits the production and availability of spices, so foods there are often less spicy than in other regions, with black pepper used in place of chilies.

The use of spices and fresh herbs is fundamental to Vietnamese cuisine and culture, with local people traditionally using fresh herbs, spices, and edible wild plants as folk remedies before Western medicine became widely available. Think about it: phở, one of their most famous meals, is just chicken or beef broth with noodles, meat, and different herbs. It’s not that complicated of a broth, but the charring of the ginger and onions, the cinnamon and star anise, just make it so dimensional that it’s hard not to love.

Something I especially appreciate in the north of Vietnam is the way people actually eat their meals. They’ll order a bunch of dishes for the table and then dish out into their smaller bowls what they want to eat. Most meals become family-style. We were introduced to this way of eating on the Ha Giang Loop, which makes sense, it was certainly the easiest way to feed a bunch of hangry 20-somethings who just got off motorbikes. But after appreciating that style of eating on the loop, I noticed a lot of families doing the same thing at restaurants.

The only note that I have for Vietnamese cuisine, is on the rice porridge front. And it is part of the cuisine — the word for rice porridge in Vietnamese is cháo, and Vietnamese cháo is delicious, but that’s part of the problem. It’s so yummy, but there aren’t nearly enough restaurants selling cháo. To be fair, there are more cháo places in the north than in the south, which makes sense because cháo is a descendant of congee, which is a Chinese dish. But yeah, especially in Ho Chi Minh City at the moment, I’m mourning the loss of my daily chicken jok (cháo/congee) that I was accustomed to in Thailand.

Here are some of my favorite Vietnamese foods that aren’t just phở and bánh mì. Because obviously those are on the list, but you don’t need another girl who just went to Vietnam to tell you how good phở and bánh mì are.

Bánh Cuốn (Steamed Rice Rolls)

These rice rolls are probably my favorite Vietnamese food if I was forced to pick only one. They’re fairly simple: thin sheets of steamed rice batter made from rice flour and tapioca starch, filled with ground pork, garlic, onions, and mushrooms.

The first time I had this was actually in a cooking class where we made it ourselves using a contraption I thought we’d never be able to recreate at home. But then I found there are ways to do it at home without the cotton steaming cloth and big machine. The second time I had it was when it was solidified as my favorite food. Emery and I were slightly deliriously hungry and dehydrated, having walked for miles in the morning, and on our way to find water when we smelled something delicious. Knowing my track record, it was very likely garlic.

Regardless, we made a silent agreement to turn around and find the source of the smell. We found ourselves inside a bánh cuốn restaurant, ordered what the manager told us to order, and ate it. And yeah, it was insanely good.

Bún Chả (Grilled Pork with Rice Noodles)

You just read about my favorite, well, this is Jordan’s favorite. Jordan and his parents actually went to the restaurant in Hanoi where Obama ate when he visited Vietnam and got the Obama Special.

Bún chả is grilled pork and pork meatballs served in a sweet and sour broth with rice vermicelli noodles on the side. The pork is marinated and grilled over charcoal until slightly caramelized, then served in a bowl of nước chấm with pickled vegetables. You dip the noodles and pork into the broth as you eat. I’m still unsure on exactly how to eat it properly—I am certain that somehow I’m doing it wrong—but it’s good. Good choice, Jordan.

Bánh Xèo (Vietnamese Savory Pancakes)

These so-called “pancakes” are more like deep-fried thin crispy crepes. Traditionally, you’d add pork and shrimp inside along with bean sprouts, then eat with fresh herbs, vegetables, and edible rice paper (meaning you don’t have to soak the rice paper before using).

I had this on my food tour in Saigon, but then learned how to make it in Hoi An at a cooking class. The batter is made from rice flour, turmeric (which gives it a yellow color), and coconut milk. It’s poured into a hot oiled pan and cooked until crispy, then folded in half like an omelet.

Funnily enough, Emery was craving some two nights before she left, and I managed to accidentally take us back to the exact place we went on our food tour, where I actually made one on the grill myself. I felt like Victor (our tour guide).

Tofu

Every time I ate tofu in Vietnam, I found myself saying it was some of the best tofu of my life. I’m not even kidding. Jordan and Emery can attest to me saying that every time I ate it.

I had fried tofu topped with fish sauce and copious amounts of spring onions. I had tofu stuffed with pork & mushroom and covered in a tomato-ey fish sauce (dậu hũ nhồi thịt?). Other types too, and every time it. Was. Unbelievable.

I need to learn how to cook tofu, because every time I make it, it’s bleh. And as someone who wants to eat less meat in their diet, tofu seems like a great option, until I cook it and taste it and it’s bad. But if the tofu tasted like any of the tofu I’ve eaten in Vietnam, I would have no problem cutting back on my meat consumption.

Bánh Tráng Nướng (Vietnamese Pizza)

Vietnamese pizza is kind of a funny name to me. It makes sense, it’s rice paper on a grill with quail egg and various meats and other stuff on top, so it looks like a pizza. But when it’s served, it’s folded in half, so it’s more like a taco.

It’s a popular street food, I think. I really can’t be sure with this one because it does feel kind of gimmicky, but at the same time, I do see it everywhere there are street food stalls.

There were a few days where this was the only food I wanted to eat. I would get mixed meats (chicken, beef, and pork), which I believe is the traditional version, with extra spring onions. It was the perfect fried food snack.

Bún Cá (Fish Noodle Soup)

The first time I had this was on my food tour in Saigon back in October. And it was really good. Famously, I don’t love fish. And if something tastes too fishy, I’m usually not the biggest fan.

So when I found out the first dish of the night was fish soup, I was not incredibly stoked.

And yet, this was possibly my favorite meal of the night. It tasted like fish, but it did not taste fishy, if that’s possible. It was a manageable amount of fish for me, the broth was delicious, sweet and herby with lots of pickled onions, and it felt like a really light meal.

Cơm Tấm Sườn Nướng (Broken Rice with Grilled Pork Chop)

This one is a big sleeper hit for Jordan and me. On one of our many hunts for cháo, we found ourselves veering right toward the smell of grilled pork at a rice place. Someone was fanning the pork chops with a hand fan to get a nice sear and almost caramelization on the thin pork chop.

Something about this super simple meal is just absolutely divine. Is it the deep-fried egg on the side? Is it the pickles? Is it the sweet fish sauce that you drown the rice in? Is it the marinade for the pork? I don’t know about the first two, but it’s definitely the last two.

If anyone has a Vietnamese mom or grandma, please DM me the recipe for the pork chop marinade — I will be forever grateful.

Bò Kho (Vietnamese Beef Stew)

After searching for arguably too long, I accidentally found bò kho on our very last day in Vietnam. I had been recommended the dish a while back, but never had any luck finding it, so by the last day in Vietnam I had actually just given up. Instead I was searching for a bowl of beef phở — since it was our last day, I figured a classic, simple bowl of beef phở would soothe my aching heart.

Alas, I found something even better.

Bò kho is a hearty, rich beef stew made with chunks of beef, carrots, lemongrass, star anise. It’s served with either rice noodles or a bánh mì on the side for dipping. The beef is fall-apart tender, and the broth has this incredible warmth from the spices.

And although it felt a little wrong to eat beef stew for breakfast, it also felt so right. I’m not sure exactly if this is supposed to be a breakfast meal or lunch (it was about noon when I made my rounds trying to find breakfast) but I will say it rivaled the beef stews that my dad makes at home. And if anyone has ever tasted my dad’s cooking, they know what a proclamation that is.

Finding bò kho on our last day in Vietnam felt like the universe giving me one final gift. Like saying, “Here, take this with you.”

I feel like I barely even dipped a proverbial toe into Vietnamese cuisine. There is so much incredible food to try, a couple of things I was scared to try, so many different regions I didn’t visit. And quite a few dishes that I did try that didn’t make their way onto this list. But I am glad that I went at least a tiny bit further into the cuisine. And while not every single thing I ate is on this list, I feel like this is a good look into what I loved eating while I was in Vietnam!

So, if you’re in Vietnam, definitely eat phở and bánh mì, but consider branching out and exploring some of the incredible corners of Vietnamese cuisine. Your taste buds will thank you.

If you’ve visited Vietnam, are there any dishes that I missed that I need to try next time I go?

xx abby

I spent half of high school planning cross-country road trips, researching the best routes, measuring my parents’ minivan to see what size blow-up mattress I could fit in it. We never went. One time my roommate, best friend, and I road-tripped all of three hours from Raleigh to Norfolk, Virginia to see a 100 gecs concert on Halloween, and I thought maybe that would be as good as it would ever get. Don’t get me wrong, that trip was insane. Lots of inside jokes came out of it, and we had an incredible time at the concert. But it was no two-week-long coming-of-age story road trip through the unknown, Jack Kerouac style (I’ve never read that book so not sure how long their road trip is).

But two weeks ago, that dream was finally realized in Vietnam.

After traveling for almost two years, multiple of Jordan’s friends had come to visit. Jordan’s mom made the trip out too. But I hadn’t had any friends come visit, and I can’t blame them, I’m pretty far away and they’re pretty busy. But still, traveling with your best friends seems so cool, and I was getting jealous having watched Jordan get to do it twice.

Finally, after months of wearing my friends down, my friend Emery decided to come visit. Conveniently, she was visiting the same time as Jordan’s parents. So I prepared a kick-ass itinerary for the five of us, and we all traveled across Vietnam together.

I was so unbelievably excited when I saw her. Jordan and I were late picking her up from the hotel (typical), but I spotted her from a few blocks away. I thought it would be an hour of “how are you” and “how have you been,” the awkward catching-up dance you do when you haven’t seen someone in a while.

But we just slipped into an easy rhythm. We went to lunch, and it was like seeing her after a week. We barely even touched on what we’d been up to for the past two years. It was almost like just seeing each other was enough catching up, and we focused on the present, on what we were doing right then.

I’ve talked before about the joy of traveling with someone who hasn’t been traveling for the past two years, seeing everything with fresh eyes. It reminds you how beautiful everything is around you, how grateful you should be to be exactly where you are right now.

Sometimes I feel like seeing so many beautiful things makes you not blasé, but definitely desensitized. You’re seeing so much beauty every single day that it just becomes normal. The temples, the mountains, the markets, they all start to blur together after a while. You stop noticing exactly how beautiful they are.

But seeing it through Emery’s eyes reminded me just how incredibly lucky I am to be able to see such beautiful things so often. It was like I was seeing in technicolor again.

Especially on the Ha Giang Loop. I’d been in Khao Sok National Park in Thailand with its comparable limestone peaks just weeks before. But seeing the awe on Emery’s face, on Jordan’s parents’ faces, reminded me just how beautiful the scenery in front of me actually was.

And that’s a really cool thing about traveling with a friend after being on the road for almost two years, it recalibrates you. It reminds you to actually look at what you’re seeing instead of just moving through it.

Obviously, Jordan and I have been traveling together for almost two years, so it isn’t always easy for me to welcome people with different travel habits into the dynamic. But it was really nice to have Emery and Jordan’s parents around.

But don’t get me wrong, it was exhausting. I planned almost everything, so I was always stressing slightly, praying that everything actually went according to plan (which it didn’t always).

Also, when I usually travel, it’s pretty slowly, it feels kind of like endurance instead of sprints. I have plenty of time to see and do everything I want because I stay for a lot longer. But trying to do north-to-south Vietnam in two weeks was pretty breakneck. Near the end of the trip, working off five to six hours of sleep every night because I had to work at night after traveling and walking and doing stuff all day, I got a pretty gnarly head cold that I’m still sleeping off four days after Emery left.

But even through the exhaustion, it was worth it. Because traveling with Emery meant doing things I wouldn’t normally do. Jordan is my boyfriend, and I love him, but there are some things he and I would never do together: spa days, getting our nails done, hitting up a new cute coffee place every day. All things I do love doing. So it was nice to have not only an excuse but a person to do these things with.

I feel like that’s a really special part about traveling with a best friend. It fills a different space than traveling with a partner. With Jordan, I’ve built a routine. We know each other’s rhythms, our habits, when we need space and when we need closeness. It’s comfortable. It’s home.

But with Emery, it was playful in a way I’d forgotten I missed. We did so much just walking and talking and riffing. I love riffing with my friends, warping jokes into unintelligible babble that only we could possibly understand.

When Emery left, I didn’t want her to go. It was so nice traveling with her. But I also knew I needed to get back into a slower rhythm, to catch up on all the work I was behind on, to sleep for more than six hours a night.

And if I’m being honest, I felt jealous. She gets to go back and hang out with all our other friends now. I miss them all so much. I’m on the other side of the world doing this thing I chose to do, and they’re all still there, living their lives, seeing each other. And now Emery gets to go back to that, and I don’t.

It’s a strange feeling, being so grateful for where you are while simultaneously aching for where you’re not.

So after two weeks of non-stop amazing travel with my best friend, I didn’t leave my bed for almost two days and here’s what I noticed:

I noticed that friendship doesn’t actually require constant contact to stay alive. That two years can feel like two weeks when you’re with the right person. That some friendships are so easy, so foundational, that you can pick them up exactly where you left off even after living completely different lives on opposite sides of the world.

I noticed that traveling with a best friend is different from traveling with a partner. Not better or worse, just different. It fills a space you didn’t realize was empty. It reminds you of parts of yourself you’d forgotten about, the version of you who gets her nails done and spends an hour in a coffee shop talking about nothing.

I noticed that seeing the world through someone else’s eyes makes you see it better yourself. That you can become so accustomed to beauty that you stop noticing it, and sometimes you need someone to point at a mountain and say “holy shit” for you to remember to look up.

I noticed that you can plan the perfect itinerary and still get sick at the end because you pushed too hard. That endurance and sprints are two very different kinds of travel, and mixing them is exhausting.

I noticed that I’m jealous of the life my friends get to live without me. But I’m also living a life they don’t get to live. And that’s okay. That’s the choice I made.

I got two weeks with my best friend on the other side of the world. Two weeks of seeing everything in technicolor again. Two weeks of being reminded why friendships matter, why staying connected across time zones and continents and completely different lives is worth the effort.

And now she’s gone, and I’m back to my slower rhythm, and I miss her. But I also now have two weeks of memories that fulfilled a lifelong dream of mine.

xx abby

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Here’s how it happened: one of their friends who lives in Tortola was getting foot surgery and needed someone to walk her dogs for five weeks. My parents, in their infinite wisdom (they wanted a place to stay but weren’t too keen on walking the dogs for five weeks), decided that Jordan and I were the perfect candidates. Never mind that we were on the literal opposite side of the world in Thailand.

It was all very convenient for them, actually. Maybe too convenient.

They were supposed to come visit us in Sri Lanka over my dad’s birthday to go to the Cricket World Cup finals, which, funnily enough, Zimbabwe was playing in. And yet somehow, they convinced us to fly halfway across the world on a 60-hour travel day from Thailand to the Virgin Islands, while they had a measly six-hour flight to come see us.

Again, pretty convenient for them.

Although I can’t complain too much, because spending time with my family after so much time abroad is extremely important to me. And instead of seeing them for a brief seven days in Sri Lanka, Jordan and I got to see my dad for two and a half weeks (thanks to a snowstorm that delayed his return flight by four days) and my mom for eight days (thanks to a massive 14-inch snowstorm a week later that delayed her departure by three days). I even got to see my baby brother as a bonus!

The dog-sitting itself was relatively easy. One hour-long walk in the morning through the steep hills and sticky humidity of the Virgin Islands, and then another shorter 15-minute walk in the evening.

Although “easy” might be generous, because it actually took about two hours total. The owner of the dogs insisted we drive half an hour each way to a nicer part of the island to walk them. And to be fair, it was a much nicer walk: shaded, with better views, and not quite as steep as the hills below her house. On occasion, when we were short on time, we did just walk the dogs below her house because it was easier. And boy, did we get fit on those walks. The first couple of times we were huffing and puffing, but near the end of our stay it seemed more doable.

But maybe the hardest part wasn’t the walks, it was the drives.

The dogs were so full of beans, so excited to go for a walk, that they barked at anything that moved. Bikers, other animals, shadows, the wind. They were so loud, literally going ballistic, jumping over each other and causing a ruckus in the back of the car. It was incredibly distracting, and I’m honestly surprised we made it there and back every day without incident.

The owner was actually there the whole time, just in her house “resting.” Except she was way more mobile than anyone recovering from foot surgery should have been. But she was very nice, and pretty stubborn too, so we didn’t question it.

While we were there, we ate plenty of good food. After being in Thailand hotels for so long without proper kitchens, it was incredible to finally cook again! We made big breakfasts, cooked actual dinners, had fresh fruit in the fridge. The simple pleasure of having a kitchen cannot be overstated when you’ve been eating out for months.

I also did three days of scuba diving in the BVI, which was incredible. I dove the Willy T, the Rhone three times, and Angelfish Reef and Thumb Rock for anyone familiar with BVI dive sites. My best sightings were a nurse shark, a flounder, a barracuda that came a little too close for comfort, a few lobsters that were half the size of me, and a handful of reef sharks.

The fish in the BVI are so beautiful. I especially loved the parrotfish, super vibrant, rainbow-colored fish. I even saw an octopus while snorkeling, which was a first for me.

I also learned all the French words for these animals because I took a lot of French lessons with my new tutor while I was in the BVI. So now I can tell you all about le requin-nourrice (nurse shark) and le poulpe (octopus) and l’homard (lobster). Très utile.

But the diving and the dogs and the walks weren’t really the point of this trip.

The point was getting to see my parents after a year and a half of being on the other side of the world. And I can’t even put into words how amazing that was.

There’s something about being away from home for that long that makes you realize how much you miss the small things. Not just the big moments, but the mundane, everyday stuff. Making breakfast together. Sitting on the couch and not really talking, just existing in the same space. Telling stories about your day and having someone who actually knows all the people and places you’re referencing.

We spent two and a half weeks together, thanks to those perfectly timed snowstorms. We cooked meals, went to the beach, watched the sunset, talked about everything and nothing. My dad and I talked about groceries what we were going to cook. My mom fussed over Jordan and I. My brother and I played a gnarly game of Dutch Blitz.

It was perfect.

And not bad scenery to do it in, either. The British Virgin Islands are stunning. Turquoise water, white sand beaches, lush green hills. It’s the kind of place that looks like a postcard, except you’re actually there, walking dogs up steep hills in 90-degree humidity, and it’s real. The house was pretty nice too, I definitely was cosplaying a rich person on vacation with those views.

So yes, my parents orchestrated an elaborate scheme to get Jordan and me to fly across the world to dog-sit for their friend. And yes, it was suspiciously convenient for them that we ended up doing all the traveling while they had a short flight from the East Coast.

But I’m glad they did.

Because I got two and a half weeks with my dad, eight days with my mom, quality time with my brother, and a reminder that sometimes plans get changed at the last minute and sometimes its for the best.

xx abby

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Khao Sok jumped out at me while I was researching what to do in the area. I read a few blogs that raved about it, and then suddenly everything I saw on tiktok and Pinterest was related to Khao Sok. And it got me. The photos looked absolutely insane. Giant limestone cliffs rising out of blue water. I had to see it for myself.

We tried to book the tour online beforehand, but I couldn’t find anything that seemed reliable. Everyone online was saying just to book through your hostel once you arrive. This made me pretty nervous because it was high tourism season in December, and I thought there was no way there’d be room. But there was. I read somewhere afterward that if there’s room at your hostel in Khao Sok (meaning you successfully booked a night there), there will be room for you on the tour. Turns out that’s true.

We managed to get two spots on an overnight tour to stay on the lake in floating bamboo bungalows. The tour included everything: two days, one night, all four meals, transfer to and from the park, two boat safaris, kayaking, a hike, and a cave tour, four $80 each.

Honestly, even just staying in Khao Sok town was beautiful. You’re already basically inside the national park, you’re just not at the lake yet. It really does feel like you’re in the forest though, from the screaming cicadas starting at 4pm, to the forest air and the mosquitos that brings. The weather we had was fantastic: blue skies, not too hot, that perfect sweet spot where you can be outside all day without melting.

The limestone cliffs are indescribable. And somehow they’re just all over southern Thailand, which is crazy. These massive abnormally tall cliffs jutting up out of nowhere from the jungle, from the water, from everywhere. Ancient and enormous and completely surreal.

When we got to the lake and saw the floating bungalows for the first time, I understood why people kept calling this their favorite experience in Thailand.

We certainly got the most basic version of the overnight bungalow experience, though.

The bungalows were... rustic. And I mean that in the most generous way possible. The wooden planks that made up the walkways were so rotted that one girl in our group actually stepped straight through one on the way to her room. After that, we all started noticing the hodgepodge of mismatched wooden planks scattered throughout, clearly makeshift repairs from previous incidents. The bungalows themselves are just bamboo huts that fit a queen size bed and nothing else, no walking space, just the bed. Just know: you do get what you pay for.

But the food was actually very good. They catered to everyone’s dietary restrictions, we ate family-style at a big communal table, and by the end of the trip, our group had all become friends. Not as close as family yet, but we were genuinely enjoying each other’s company despite a pretty shy beginning.

And honestly? After traveling with just my boyfriend for so long, it was so refreshing to have other people to talk to. I feel like both of us got some much-needed space from each other.

For me, the highlight of the trip was probably kayaking. Stepping away from the rest of the group for a solo kayak through calm water with the massive cliffs surrounding you and making you feel weirdly small.

The boat safari’s were also very fun. We visited a few of the famous rock formations, before looking for some wildlife. We saw monkeys swinging from vines on the cliffs. We spotted a pair of hornbills. The scale of everything was just breathtaking.

The cave hike was unlike any cave hike I’ve done before. I’m not exaggerating when I say I felt like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. Inside, we saw multiple massive spiders, two snakes, and a few bats clinging to the cave ceiling. It was a pretty intense hike, honestly. We were ducking under low overhangs, hopping over wet stones, navigating tight spaces in the dark with only our headlamps.

But here’s where I have to be honest: I took issue with how the cave tour was conducted. We were not asked to be quiet or to avoid disturbing the bats. People were talking loudly, shining flashlights directly at the animals. It felt disrespectful, and it made me uncomfortable. I don’t think the company we went with was bad, but I do think sustainability practices and wildlife etiquette is the bare minimum when conducting business in a national park.

The sunrise on the lake the next morning made up for a lot. Waking up early, stepping out of the bungalow onto the floating platform, watching the mist lift slowly off the water as the sky turned pink and gold. Totally quiet minus the soft lapping of waves.

I love quiet moments like that. It makes putting up with rotting floorboards and long bus rides and questionable tour companies worth it. Because sometimes, the payoff is a silent, solitary sunrise on a floating bungalow in the middle of a national park.

I would absolutely recommend this tour to others. If you’re going to be in southern Thailand, I wouldn’t miss it, the landscape alone is worth it.

But if the issues I mentioned are dealbreakers like they were for me (the lack of respect for wildlife in the cave, the not-great safety standards for the bungalows) then definitely book a nicer tour. You can find them online if you do your research ahead of time.

Just be sure to watch your step on those planks

xx abby

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To make a long story short: I left Thailand at 11am, and then two days, eight hours, and a twelve-hour time difference later, I found myself on the other side of the world in the British Virgin Islands.

If you’re interested in what happened during those 68 hours, feel free to continue on.

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Jordan and I left our homestay in Krabi probably way too early. We left at 11am for an 8:30pm flight, but in our defense, the airport in Phuket was a three-hour bus ride away, not including the taxi to the bus station and then another taxi from the drop-off point on the side of the highway into the actual airport. Plus, Jordan and I usually subscribe to the idea that it’s much better to sit and wait at the airport (or anywhere else), than to rush around or miss your flight.

Eventually we checked in and made it on our first flight to Doha. Jordan had a brilliant idea which was to immediately switch to New York time, so we wouldn’t be too jetlagged by the time we made it to the other side of the world. So, on our overnight flight, we watched the X-Files for five hours. By the time we landed, it was about 3am in Thailand time, and we had… you guessed it, an eight and a half hour layover.

After being awake for almost 24 hours, Jordan’s plan went into the wind, and we decided we needed to get some rest on this layover, otherwise we were going to go insane. We managed to get some vertical sleep because of our new sleep masks and our level of exhaustion.

After our eight-hour layover, we boarded the long flight: 14 hours to New York City.

On this flight Jordan and I finished the X-Files, which we have literally been watching since the beginning of our relationship. It took us just about 3.5 years to finish the series, and it felt monumental. Like closing a chapter. We’d started watching it in junior year of college, continued through moves and travels and various countries, and now we were finishing it somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. We didn’t linger on this thought for too long our of fear that we’d just immediately fall asleep, so we quickly switched gears and started watching Season 4 of Stranger Things so we’d be ready for the fifth season, which we’re already late on.

It didn’t take too long though for the cabin air and the exhaustion to dry out our eves, so we had to stop that too and get some rest before we landed in New York. Somehow, after dozing in and out for a few hours, we eventually made it to New York.

Eventually, somehow, we made it to New York. And we booked a 17 hour layover here! With our bags checked all the way to the Virgin Islands, we were free to go out and explore the city.

This was actually my first time in New York City, that I can remember anyways. And I hate to say it, but New York is an amazing city. I see why people want to visit and I see why people want to live there. I get it now.

We very briefly hit a short list of highlights for the city. Times Square, which I thought was underwhelming, but we could have been at the wrong street corner. Then walked to the Radio City Music Hall and saw the Rockefeller Christmas tree. We finished off our very brief walking tour at the St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

What made our time in New York even more special was getting to see a friend. Jordan’s old roommate from university, Yates, very kindly let us crash on his couch for the night. Not only that, but he and his girlfriend showed us around East Village where he lives. We went to a Russian mafia-themed bar, visited a shop with vintage photo booths, and ate pizza at a place the Beastie Boys used to go to.

I think one of Jordan and I’s main goal is if we were going to do an obscenely long travel day, it better be like a movie. And if that night wasn’t a movie I don’t know what was.

After a surprisingly good sleep on a futon, Jordan and I were up at 6am for our final stretch of travel. The last thing (and arguably most important?) was to get a bagel to go from a deli before getting on the subway back to JFK. We made it on our flight with barely a minute to spare. We were actually seated across the isle from each other on this flight, so we took a break from Stranger Things and I read like 75% of a YA mystery novel in one sitting and Jordan watched the new Fantastic Four.

Eventually we landed in St Thomas, hopped on a ferry to British Virgin Islands, had cheese and stale baguette for dinner, showered and collapsed into bed.

Life is a movie, and it’s more than worth a few sleepless nights.

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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And, at least for me, the answer is not that much. I mean, I’m writing this intro in Thailand on the 22nd of December and I can tell you that it certainly doesn’t feel like Christmas is in three days. I do think that Christmas, if you’re not religious, is fairly dependent on who you’re around. And since I’m not around anyone who makes Christmas feel like Christmas (no family traditions, no childhood home, no big family gathering) it just doesn’t feel like Christmas.

That does not mean I’m not doing anything, however. I am doing something special. I went on a beach vacation.

“Abby, aren’t you already on vacation? What makes this any different?”

Touché! And to that I have to say: I wasn’t on a beach before, and now I am. Therefore, it is in fact very different.

Jordan and I have been wanting to go scuba diving for a really long time. We wanted to go while we were in Butterfly Valley, Turkey, but the timing didn’t work out and we never got to do a discovery dive. Ever since then, we’ve just been itching to get into the water.

So, without ever having gone further than a meter below the surface, Jordan and I booked an Open Water certification course in Koh Lanta, a laid-back island off the Andaman coast in Thailand.

Koh Lanta gets a lot of hype nowadays, it’s one of the biggest islands in Thailand, and even though there are a lot of people on it, I think they’re more spaced out, so it does feel kind of like its moving at a slower pace.

It seemed like the type of place that would be really easy to get stuck in. I think Jordan and I would have easily gotten stuck if we hadn’t booked a non-refundable hotel in Krabi, breaking one of our biggest travel rules. But maybe we needed the non-refundable booking to keep us moving. Otherwise, we’d wake up three months later still on Koh Lanta, working remotely from a beachside café, wondering where the time went.

On Christmas Eve, we had the first day of the course, which was pretty relaxed. Just watching lots of videos on theory in the morning, and then testing those skills in the pool. Clearing your mask underwater. Taking your regulator out and putting it back in. Practicing controlled ascents. All the things that seem simple on land but feel slightly terrifying when you’re five feet underwater and your brain is telling you, “we’re not supposed to be doing this, this feels wrong.”

But we did it. And that evening, our hostel threw a little Christmas party for all the guests. Free food, dessert, free drinks. They even did a raffle and gave out prizes, all completely for free. It was so cool because I’ve never really experienced anything like that at a hostel. It felt like being at a family gathering, except everyone was a stranger you’d just met, and half of them were sunburned and stoned.

On Christmas Day, Jordan and I had our first ever dives.

Again, we were doing the class, so it wasn’t a full exploratory dive where you just swim around looking at stuff. We were still practicing skills: replacing our masks underwater, sharing regulators, and getting used to equalizing our ears. But even while doing those drills, we got to see quite a bit.

About five minutes into the water, we saw a blacktip reef shark.

Underwater is an entirely different world than on top of the ocean. On the surface, it’s loud, waves crashing, seasickness and strong winds. It can seem chaotic, even scary. But floating around underwater, it’s quiet. Slow. The water is calm down there and everything moves in a flow state. You can trust this coming from someone who, famously, up until this point, was never incredibly fond of the deep ocean and preferred to admire it from a safe distance.

But down there, with the fish swimming past and the coral swaying gently and the light filtering down in soft, watery beams, I got it. I understood why people like the ocean.

On our way back to land, we heard the divemaster say to two others who just completed their open water certification, “Congrats! Your vacations will never be cheap again!”

After our dives, I was exhausted and came back and took a long nap and narrowly missed the sunset. Luckily I woke up in time and saw that our diving instructor, Matteo, had invited us to the beach to play volleyball. So Jordan and I headed down to the beach, only slightly groggy, and watched as a bunch of people played volleyball while the sun set behind.

Afterward, we went out to dinner with Matteo and a bunch of his friends who live on the island. A local place that did incredible barbecued chicken and chicken soup, simple and delicious. Nine people crowded around a table clearly meant for four, sharing grilled chicken, papaya salad, and soup, family style. It reminded me of last year’s Christmas in Sorrento, as all of the people at this year’s Christmas dinner were also Italian.

The next day, we finished our dives and became certified Open Water divers. And Jordan and I whispered to each other, “Congrats, your vacations will never be affordable again.”

Unfortunately, it’s definitely true. Diving is addictive and not cheap. Every time you go somewhere coastal, you’ll be looking up dive shops. Every time you see clear water, you’ll want to be under it.

Maybe it’s because this was my second Christmas away from home, so I was used to it compared to last year. Maybe it was all the adrenaline coursing through my veins from scuba diving. Maybe it’s because I got a surprise offer to go see my parents in two weeks. Maybe it’s because it was my first warm Christmas ever and I don’t like the cold. Maybe it’s because Jordan and I took three days off work and actually let ourselves rest. Maybe it’s because I’m coming off a month-long depressive episode and anything feels good in comparison. Or maybe it’s because I worked out multiple days in a row and had endorphins pumping through my system.

But this was a good Christmas.

I spent it underwater, learning to breathe in a way that didn’t feel natural but somehow became second nature within hours. I spent it surrounded by strangers who became friends over free drinks and raffle prizes. I spent it on a beach at sunset, watching people play volleyball while the sky turned pink and orange and purple. I spent it sharing a meal with Italians (somehow again) that welcomed me into their circle to celebrate Christmas.

I spent it away from everything familiar, and somehow, that made it exactly what I needed.

I am full of light and love right now. Ready for the new year. Ready for whatever comes next. And I can’t wait to dive again.

But I do think this is the last Christmas I will ever spend away from my family.

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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I visited the beautiful, and fairly out of the way, Mae Hong Son, which was absolutely beautiful, and so calm and cozy with the mountains always watching over you. Then I faced a brutal 12-hour travel day on buses to get from Mae Hong Son all the way to Chiang Rai.

Chiang Rai is famous for one thing: having some of the most beautiful temples in the entire country. And I’m just going to spoil the rest of this post for you right here. TLDR: The temples here are insanely beautiful and worth the hype.

To be fair, the temples all over the country are insanely beautiful, I don’t think I’ve been to a temple where I was like “gosh darn, that wasn’t as pretty as I thought it would be.” No, they’re all beautiful. But maybe it’s because I was told the temples here were extra special and stunning, but at times, they felt more like art installations than places of worship, or maybe just both at the same time.

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One of the popular things to do in Chiang Rai is to book a full-day excursion that hits all the main temples, then drives up to the Golden Triangle (where Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos meet), stopping at a tea plantation along the way. Sometimes they throw in a Karen village visit for good measure.

Instead of booking one of these tours, Jordan and I decided that we wanted to take things at our own pace. Although these tours are nice to ensure you see all of the sights, sometimes its nicer to be able to spend as much time as you want at any place, and do these things over a course of a few days. Not to mention my boyfriend teaches English online, so it would be a bit stressful to always be watching the time to ensure he makes it back to town in time for his lesson.

The first temple we visited is arguably the most famous in all of Thailand: the White Temple, Wat Rong Khun.

It was designed and funded by a local artist, Chalermchai Kositpipat, after the original temple on the site fell into disrepair. The whole temple complex is his vision, a contemporary reimagining of traditional Buddhist architecture, gleaming white and covered in mirrored glass that catches and throws the light everywhere like a giant mirrorball.

The main chapel is reached by crossing a bridge over a sea of hundreds of reaching hands, symbolizing desire and suffering. Inside, the murals are unlike anything you’d see in a traditional temple. Apparently Spiderman is in there, but I just noticed how dark all of the murals were, very different and more apocalyptic than your traditional temples.

A few of the exhibits go on break around lunch time, which is when we went, so we did miss a few things, like the art cave, but what we saw was incredibly beautiful, so I didn’t really feel like I was missing out on too much.

The blue temple, Wat Rong Suea Ten, was designed by another local artist, probably not coincidentally, the student and protégé of the artist behind the famous white temple. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I knew that before looking it up right now, but I did take an art history class in high school and at university, so I did see some similarities in the paintings inside the main temple, and similar dark themes that I haven’t seen in too many other temples in Thailand.

Even though the photos show a very vibrant blue, it was maybe even more blue in person. When we first arrived I was actually a bit shocked at how intense the color was. I mean to be fair, it is called the blue temple so I should have been more prepared.

We also visited Wat Huay Pla Kang and Guan Yin statue. I read one blog online that said that the most beautiful time to visit the temple was at sunset, because the sun sets behind the massive goddess statue. And I’m glad I read that recommendation, because the temple at that time was stunning. I feel like I took some really cool pictures here.

The main temple has nine floors you can climb up for really cool views of the Guan Yin statue and of Chiang Rai town in the distance. There is also an elevator in the Guan Yin statue that you can pay a small fee to go all the way up into their head, but as I wanted to see the sunset from the ground, we opted to not take the ride up.

For me, the coolest part of this temple was the dragons on the grand staircase leading up to the Guan Yin statue. Famously, I am obsessed with nagas, the serpent guardians you see at Buddhist temples all over Southeast Asia. The nagas are my favorite part of every temple, they’re always designed so beautifully, and this temple was no exception. As dusk fell over the temple, I even managed to get some pictures of them posing with the rising full moon.

Because I opted not to take one of the full day, all encompassing, tours, I did not end up seeing all of the usual sights that Chiang Rai offers. I did not visit the Golden Triangle. I didn’t visit any tea plantations. I didn’t visit Singha Park or one of the Karen villages. And that is something that I’m just getting better at being okay with. You don’t have to visit every single one of the “must-see destinations” to truly experience a place.

All I did was visit a handful of temples, the Baan Dam museum, take my time walking around the city, and eat lots of good food. And I feel like I experienced the city well enough.

That being said, I could easily have spent more than three days here. I’m so used to traveling slowly, I mean I spent three months in Siem Reap and probably could have spent longer. Technically three days was enough, bot both Jordan and I agreed that the food options are incredible in Chiang Rai and another day would have been well spent, eating lots of good food!

Ps. I went to a cat café while I was here, and it was worth the allergy attack I had later that night.

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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Chiang Mai is the epitome of a big city trying so hard to be a small town. Spend enough time there and you’ll realize the truth: it’s a big city. A beautiful and fun big city, but a big city nonetheless. The kind of place where you can never quite shake the feeling that you should be doing something, seeing something, optimizing your time.

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So I ventured even further into the mountains of Northern Thailand, closer to the border with Myanmar, to the small provincial capital of Mae Hong Son. Population: roughly 7,000. But still somehow, the biggest city in the entire province, to put into perspective how quiet this place is.

Mae Hong Son is better known for being one of the 76 provinces of Thailand than for the city itself. It’s famous for housing a popular motorcycle loop:1,864 curves through mountain passes and valleys. And if you complete it, you even get a certificate at the Mae Hong Son Chamber of Commerce. A badge of honor for the two-wheelers that make the journey.

This loop is far less famous than the Ha Giang loop in Vietnam, another mountainous motorcycle route that’s become something of a backpacker rite of passage. Most people who’ve done both seem to agree that Ha Giang is more dramatic, more beautiful. But the Mae Hong Son loop has its devotees, people who speak of it like they’ve discovered something the rest of the world hasn’t quite caught onto yet.

And maybe that’s because if you can’t ride a motorcycle, you’re kind of out of luck with the Mae Hong Son loop. There are hardly any tour groups offering an easy-rider option, or for that matter any tour groups at all. It’s just for people to rise at their own pace. Which means it stays quieter. Less crowded. Less famous.

Now, I cannot ride a motorcycle. And I did not particularly want to learn on one of the harder motorcycle routes in the world. So I took a bus. Actually, I took a van — a six-hour van ride that’s notorious for making people sick, whipping around the corners of the hardest section of the Mae Hong Son loop.

Stepping off that van, still a little woozy from the twists and turns, felt like entering another world from the busy Chiang Mai where I got on the bus.

Famously, I get horrible car-sickness, so I decided that I needed the afternoon to recover. I let the mountain air and lying on my bed in my room heal me, and then to amp-up the healing even further, I went and got a massage. and let the mountain air heal me, and then I got a massage.

Afterward, feeling rejuvenated and human again, I decided to walk around town.

Without trying, or even prior knowledge that it existed, I stumbled upon the Mae Hong Son Walking Street, which is a path along the little pond in the center of town. During the day, it’s quiet and beautiful, but unassuming. Then at night, it transforms into a food market, with vendors selling all sorts of things. And unlike the markets in Chiang Mai, you can walk through without squeezing past other patrons, without feeling like you’re in anyone’s way. It was small. But then again, the customer base is much smaller than in Chiang Mai.

After discovering it on a whim, this became the spot for dinner. Jordan and I ate here each of the three nights we spent in Mae Hong Son, even squeezing it in when we didn’t really have the time. Even though we knew all of the food that would be there every night, it was so nice to peruse all the different vendors and decide what we would get (it kind of feels like a modern age version of foraging).

The first morning in Mae Hong Son was not as slow as the rest of our trip would be.

For some ungodly reason, I’d decided I wanted to hike up the hill behind the city before sunrise to visit the temple Wat Phrathat Doi Kong Mu. It was only a short hike, walking distance from where we were staying. But we still had to be out the door by 5:45am, an hour when nobody but the stray dogs should be awake.

After a gruelingly fast ascent with lots of stairs, we made to the top, which sat two Burmese-style temples. I was told by our homestay owner that it was a pretty popular spot to watch the sunset, but there were only four other people at the temple at that hour, and none of them sat down to watch the sun come up.

In their defense, there wasn’t much of a sunrise to be had.

Mae Hong Son and its entire province are famous for the mist that envelops the valleys during three out of four seasons. The mist is thick, opaque, a living thing that settles in the low places and refuses to leave until the day decides it’s ready. So instead of watching the sky turn pink and orange and gold, we watched something else: the slow parting of clouds. The way the city lights blinked on one by one as the mist thinned. And although it wasn’t a traditional sunrise, it was still beautiful in it’s own way, a nice quiet way to start the morning.

It reminded me of other times where I hiked up a big hill, to find the viewpoint at the top entirely obscured by clouds. It’s still beautiful, just not in the way you expected. Having gone through this before, instead of grieving the sunrise I didn’t get to watch, I was able to soak in the clouds and the mist and appreciate a different beauty.

We saw a few other things around town, walked to a few other temples in town like the two teak temples that reflect across the pond in the center of town, and the Guan Yin Chinese temple, all of which were stunning.

But honestly, other than all of the city’s different temples there’s just not that much to do within walking distance of the city.

Which I was in love with. Instead of focusing on seeing everything, instead of feeling like I had to make the most of the trip and justify the six-hour van ride, I was just enjoying the city. Enjoying my surroundings. Letting the days unfold without a plan.

One of the many reasons people love doing the Mae Hong Son loop is for all the nature and culture you can see along the way. Places like Ban Rak Thai, a Chinese village near the Myanmar border. Or Pang Ung, a serene lake surrounded by pine trees that looks like it belongs in Switzerland. Every viewpoint, every coffee stop, every hidden waterfall.

Unfortunately for me, in my chartered van, we did not stop at every pretty viewpoint where all the motorcyclists pulled over for photos and coffee. And although there are plenty of tour agencies in Mae Hong Son willing to take you to these famous places, it’s infinitely more convenient to just have your own motorbike than to follow the rigid schedule of a tour group.

So we didn’t.

Mae Hong Son is made for motorcyclists who can move at their own pace, though even they often end up crowding their days, trying to see everything, to make the most of this incredible landscape. Without the motorcycle, I had no nagging feeling that I was missing out on something. No voice in my head telling me I should be doing more, seeing more, optimizing my time.

I could just enjoy the quietness. The stillness of this small mountain city. I could see the few important sites, walk around to my heart’s content, and not feel the need to do anything more. I was happy just being, instead of feeling the innate desire to do more.

And it was really, really nice.

xx abby

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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One last thing… would you mind taking this two-minute survey for me?

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I was recently introduced to the concept of gastro-diplomacy by a friend — the idea that a country can use its cuisine as a form of soft power to increase its global influence and improve its image abroad. Thailand has absolutely mastered this. In the early 2000s, the Thai government launched the “Global Thai” initiative with the explicit goal of increasing the number of Thai restaurants worldwide and promoting Thai culture through food. It worked. Now there are Thai restaurants in nearly every major city on the planet, and dishes like pad thai and green curry are household names.

Vietnam has had similar success, though perhaps more organically. Phở has become globally beloved, and Vietnamese coffee culture has spread far beyond Southeast Asia. Even bánh mì—a simple sandwich—has achieved cult status in food cities around the world.

But Cambodia? Despite sharing borders with both countries and having a cuisine that’s just as flavorful, fresh, and diverse, Cambodian food remains relatively unknown outside of Southeast Asia. You’d be hard-pressed to find a Cambodian restaurant in most Western cities, and if you asked the average person to name a Cambodian dish, they probably couldn’t.

To be fair, I think the Cambodian government and peoples have been relatively busy for the past fifty years, while other countries were trying to send their people and cuisine far and wide with the near constant war.

I lived in Siem Reap for three months, and even though I didn’t eat out every single day, I got a pretty good taste of Cambodian food. And I know I didn’t even break the surface. There are regional variations, family recipes, street food specialties, and dishes I’ve probably never even heard of. But what I did try was incredible, and I think it deserves way more hype than it gets.

So here are some of my favorite Khmer foods, the dishes that made me fall in love with Cambodian cuisine and left me wondering why the rest of the world hasn’t caught on yet.

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Nom Banh Chok (Khmer Noodles)

Taking the cake as my absolute favorite Khmer food has to be nom banh chok. It’s incredibly simple, fresh, colorful, and flavorful. It’s a real shame that not every restaurant offers this as a staple, because I’d probably order it every single time.

It’s a curry-based dish served over fermented rice noodles, traditionally eaten for breakfast. The curry is green and herby, made with lemongrass, turmeric, kaffir lime, and fish. You top it with raw vegetables like cucumbers, bean sprouts, long beans, banana blossom, and more fresh herbs. It is so Cambodian, that the English name of the noodles is literally Khmer noodles.

The first time I tried it was about a month before I planned on leaving Cambodia. So, from that moment on, I ate it every chance I got, I even learned how to make it so Jordan and I could have it for lunch at home.

This is probably the dish I am going to miss most outside of Cambodia

Cambodian Curry (Kari)

I actually learned how to make this at a cooking class I took in Siem Reap. I always assumed Cambodian curry was just like Thai green curry because at the market, I found a place selling curry paste. Turns out, they were selling a “base,” called a kroeung, that you then add in different ingredients depending on what you want to make.

For Cambodian curry, you add red curry powder and ground peanuts, then grind it all together again in a mortar and pestle. The result is a red curry that’s mild and sweet, with a distinct nuttiness from the peanuts. It’s usually made with chicken and potatoes, and it’s cooked in coconut milk until everything is tender and the sauce is thick and fragrant.

I definitely would have made this one again, because it was very comforting, but alas, I had no mortar and pestle at my apartment.

Lok Lak

This is maybe the most famous Cambodian dish if I had to guess. It’s a pretty simple dish, but very delicious nonetheless. It’s stir-fried beef (or sometimes chicken) marinated in a mixture of soy sauce, oyster sauce, sugar, and garlic, served over lettuce and tomatoes with a side of rice and a fried egg on top.

But what makes this dish so famous is the sauce. It’s a mix of lime juice, salt and black pepper. Specifically Cambodian Kampot pepper. Kampot pepper is regarded by some as the best pepper in the world, and is probably what gave this dish it’s claim to fame.

Not only is it famous, but when done well, it is incredibly delicious. This dish is available at almost every single restaurant in Cambodia, and is definitely worth a try if you get the chance!

Rice Porridge

This is a staple Khmer breakfast. The first time we tried it, we were on a tour of Angkor Wat, and we asked our tuk-tuk driver, “Hey bong, if you see a place with rice porridge, can we stop and have breakfast?” Not two minutes later down the road, he found a place.

It’s pretty simple: a savory broth with overcooked rice (cooked until it’s soft and almost dissolves into the broth) and some pork or fish. It’s usually topped with fried garlic, scallions, and fresh herbs. You can add chili oil or fish sauce to taste.

I made it a few times when we were low on groceries, because it’s just so simple, delicious and filling (especially if you have leftover rice you need to use up!)

Amok

I feel like amok is another quintessential Khmer dish, or at least it’s certainly very famous and highly recommended. It’s a curry-based dish, famously and traditionally made with fish, though you can also get it with chicken or tofu.

This is another dish that starts with the kroeung, the base curry paste, and then coconut milk and fish, and then is steamed in banana leaves until set.

It is a delicious dish, not overly fishy, but I think the texture is what sets it apart from other curries. When you steam everything together in the banana leaf, it becomes very thick and almost custard like. It was very good, but for me I don’t know if it was my favorite Cambodian dish.

Beef sticks

We found a place that does beef sticks in Siem Reap (the restaurant is literally called beef sticks) and it became one of my favorite places. In Vietnam, I saw a place serving something similar that was called “Cambodian Barbecue.”

At the restaurant, they serve the beef skewers with pickles and gorgeously buttered and grilled baguettes, and then you get to make your own little sandwiches.

The beef is marinated in a mixture of soy sauce, sugar, garlic, and spices, then grilled over charcoal until it’s slightly caramelized and smoky. In the back of the restaurant, all of the family members who owned the shop were sitting there, skewering marinated beef for the next day.

This place was so simple and delicious, there were no menus, nobody spoke any english so we communicated through calculators, there was a resident cat. All the makings of a fantastic restaurant that I will certainly miss (and highly recommend).

Bugs

I didn’t know if we would really do it, but Jordan and I ate bugs in Cambodia.

Right outside our apartment, there was this stand that every evening sold fried bugs. And the worst part was, it smelled delicious every time we walked past. It was also always super busy, with locals stopping by to grab a bag of fried crickets or grasshoppers like it was the most normal thing in the world. There are a bunch of these stands all over Siem Reap, so I think Cambodians must eat a lot of bugs.

Near the river night market in Siem Reap, they also sell more gimmicky bugs like tarantulas, snakes, and scorpions. And while I’m sure Cambodians do eat these bugs, I think not nearly as often as the crickets, grasshoppers, and silkworm pupae they sell on the side of the street.

We got the scary ones done first, like tarantula, scorpion and snake. The snake was actually surprisingly very good, I would eat that again. Other than that, the bugs had no flavor, and they were scary.

However, the bugs on the side of the street were pretty good. They fry the bugs and then coat them in this spicy, savory, salty mix that gave the bugs a lot of flavor. All of them, I would eat again (in small quantities) except for the silkworm. That one had a terrifyingly squishy texture, and a flavor that I wasn’t a fan of.

TW: Enjoy this gallery of Jordan eating various creepy crawlers.

These are just some of my favorite Cambodian dishes, but again, I don’t think I even scratched the surface. There are so many restaurants that I was too scared to go into due to lack of a menu, plus I fell into a rhythm with my favorite restaurants and what I knew I liked and would miss endlessly when I left.

Regardless: Cambodian food is underrated, underappreciated, and deserves a whole lot more hype than it gets on the global food scene.

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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And I’m not mad at it, that was the main point of moving somewhere for three months. So that Jordan and I could really grind at our jobs and make some money before we started backpacking again. And for the most part, that’s what we’ve been doing, working, except for the brief excursion to Ho Chi Minh City [read about that here].

But there was another reason we didn’t do any touristy things: we knew Jordan’s good friend from home, Jose, would be coming to visit, and we wanted to make sure he got the full tourist experience while he was here. So to make sure we didn’t do everything twice, we decided to save all of the touristy things in Siem Reap for when Jose arrived.

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Daily life in Siem Reap

Before Jose came to stay with us, my days followed a very consistent rhythm.

A typical day for me looked like this: wake up, eat chia pudding, go to gym, make lunch, do work, eat dinner, watch How I Met Your Mother. Now obviously this wasn’t totally set in stone, there was room for interpretation. For example maybe I was out of ingredients for lunch, so instead we went to a restaurant that had $1 burgers and $.50 beers before heading to the market to pick up groceries. Or maybe we watched a movie. Or maybe I went to the cafe downstairs to work instead of in our living room.

But yeah that’s pretty much what I did. And maybe some would consider it a little bit boring, but honestly I loved it. After so much craziness for a year, it was pretty nice to just have a simple routine to ease into and relax with.

I didn’t realize how at home I felt in Siem Reap until I was so busy for two and a half weeks straight. First traveling to HCMC, then hosting Jose, then going to Phnom Penh, after all of that craziness, I seriously missed being at home. I missed my coconut water matcha from the café downstairs. I missed my $1 chicken burger spot. And I missed my fruit stand across the street which sells my favorite fruit.

I think part of what I missed most was just the calmness of having a place to call home that was my own, not shared with anyone (except, of course, my boyfriend). I could escape from everything and just be in my own space, which is something I really haven’t had in a long, long time.

Seeing my city through a tourist’s eyes

And then Jose came to visit. As much as I do love my little routine, really Jordan and I had been waiting for this moment to do all of the fun touristy stuff that we had been saving up for the past two months. To throw a wrench in the quiet, lazy routine we had created to have a bit of fun and do some things out of our comfort zones.

We really hit all of the stops in Siem Reap. We did Angkor Wat (duh), went to the Cambodian circus, visited APOPO (the rat sanctuary), went on a tour of the floating villages, ate street food and bugs at the night market and got a beer on pub street. We did it all, and not one of these things had I done before in the whole two months that I have been here.

It really opened my eyes to a new side of the city that I had been almost subconsciously avoiding because it didn’t fit into my quiet lifestyle. But it was actually really nice to see all of that, a whole different side of the city that is not far at all from where I live. It certainly opened my eyes up to things that I would be more than happy to do again, like get dinner at the night market.

Here’s an unpopular opinion for you: I love traveling with tourists.

And yeah — I know I’m a tourist. But I guess what I mean is someone who hasn’t been traveling super long term. Who’s fresh in the game.

Why? You may be asking. Well because every single time I travel with a newbie, they open my eyes to the magic all around me.

When you travel long-term, it’s kind of easy to become a bit jaded when you see new things. Part of it is because you’ve seen so many new things in such a short period of time that it’s hard to process it all and get excited about every single thing. But also, you adapt and get used to your surroundings faster, so you’re not spending so much time making googly eyes and hanging your jaw when you see something new.

And when you’re traveling with someone who is completely awestruck by everything they see, it becomes infectious. You start seeing things through their eyes, seeing them for how cool they are.

“Okay that’s great, but Abby what does this have to do at all with Siem Reap.”

I got to see it with an entirely fresh set of eyes. Eyes that have never seen any of Asia before. Eyes that haven’t been jaded and worn with use.

I saw an entirely different city than the one I had come to know and love, and through this new set of eyes, I have come to like Siem Reap even more. I got to know it by living here, and I got to know it even better by tramping around the city as a tourist for a week. Doing all the cliché and basic things, that are (lets be honest) usually pretty fun.

After a long two and a half weeks of nonstop touristing and hosting, it is very nice to be back in my favorite cafe with my coconut water matcha and my green tea writing this blog post.

And with only two weeks left in my amazing little city, I’m going to make the most of it. I’m not going to wait until someone else comes to visit and use that as an excuse to explore. I’m going to see as much of this place as I can, while still leaving room to savor slow mornings in my apartment and afternoons listening to jazz and writing at my local cafe.

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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We caught an overnight bus from Siem Reap, where we live, to Phnom Penh, then switched buses and crossed the border into Vietnam. When we first arrived, I was shocked by how huge Ho Chi Minh City was. We arrived at the outskirts of town, and then it took another hour and a half to reach our bus station in the center. Granted, it probably would have been a bit quicker if we were traveling by motorbike, but still — that’s a long time to cross half a city. It was such a change from quiet little Siem Reap, but a refreshing one because I do love a city.

We couldn’t go completely full-out exploring the whole city because Jordan still had to work a bit, but full disclosure: it was kind of nice not feeling the pressure to be out in the Vietnamese heat all day every single day. Sometimes slow travel means accepting that you can’t see everything, and that’s okay.

Day 1: Street Food Tour

We got to HCMC around midday, and decided to relax for a few hours. By the evening, we were rested and showered and ready for our food tour.

I really like food, so I recently decided to prioritize taking cooking classes or food tours whenever I enter a new food region. I want to learn as much as I can and find out what I like. I figured a street food tour at the very beginning of the trip would open our eyes to the types of food available in southern Vietnam, help us figure out what we still wanted to try during our stay, and introduce us to dishes we might not have discovered on our own.

Another reason I really like food tours is that sometimes I see a dish but I’m too scared to try it because I have no idea the proper way to eat it. But this food tour taught me how to eat things properly, like how to add the herbs, which sauces to use and how to balance flavors. So when I went to get street food later in our trip, I didn’t look like a total fool. Because not all the dishes you eat are self-explanatory.

I picked the tour that had the most dishes to try out of all the ones I found online. And honestly? It exceeded my expectations.

We tried so much good food. We were introduced to local snacks I’d never heard of. Here are some standout dishes from the food tour.

• Bún cá (fish noodle soup) — my absolute favorite, which shocked me because I usually don’t like fishy food. The broth was sweet, herby, and light, made even better by pickled onions.

• Bánh mì — the classic Vietnamese baguette sandwich. Ours came from Bánh Mì 24 in District 10, often considered one of the best in the city. Crispy on the outside, soft inside, stuffed with pickled vegetables, herbs, pâté, and meat.

• Bánh bao ngọt (sweet fried bao buns) — warm, golden, filled with creamy custard and sprinkled with sesame seeds. 10/10 sweet treat.

Day 2: Chợ Lớn

Breakfast

We started off day two the right way, with a steaming bowl of phở for breakfast! Believe it or not, it was my first-ever pho, and it lived up to the hype. I think I would’ve liked it even more with some of those pickled onions from the bún cá, but it was still incredible. I really appreciate the food of Vietnam being so flavorful, while relying mainly on fresh herbs to carry that flavor. The mint, cilantro and basil really made my trip, making every bite of food feel so fresh.

Our favorite spot for phở, Phở Miến Gà Kỳ Đồng in District 3, has actually been in the Michelin Guide for three years running. If you’re hunting for an unforgettable bowl of phở, that’s the one.

Walking tour of Chợ Lớn

One of Jordan’s and my favorite parts of Bangkok was Chinatown, so we wanted to see Ho Chi Minh City’s Chinatown too. Chợ Lớn (which literally means “big market”) is the city’s Chinatown, and it’s an entirely different vibe from the more touristy District 1. It’s also an entirely different vibe than Bangkok’s Chinatown.

It’s less outright and loud in being a Chinatown. Less big signs on the streets announcing it, instead the smaller Chinese blessings stand over every apartment door. If you weren’t looking out for it (and if you can’t tell the difference between Cantonese and Vietnamese) you may not even be able to tell the difference, between Ho Chi Minh’s oldest neighborhood and the rest of the city.

We did a guided walking tour, wandering through narrow streets packed with shops selling everything from traditional Chinese medicine to wedding decorations and dragon heads for celebrations. We visited a few temples—ornate, incense-filled spaces that felt worlds away from the busy streets outside. We also explored some old apartment blocks that gave us a glimpse into everyday life in the neighborhood.

Day 3: District 3

I always say the best way to explore a city is on foot, so that’s exactly what we did. I mapped a loose walking route, but we allowed space for distractions like markets, coffee shops, street snacks, and whatever else caught our eye.

Tân Định Church (Pink Church)

Our first stop was the Tân Định Church, better known as the Pink Church. Which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. A giant bright pink Catholic church in the middle of the city.

It was awesome. Pink is my favorite color, so needless to say I loved it. It was also very fun to photograph because it was so different than anything I had seen before. Seeing the church also made me notice just how colorful the rest of Ho Chi Minh City is; pink, yellow, green, orange buildings everywhere that give the city a personality.

Jade Emperor Pagoda

Next, we visited the Jade Emperor Pagoda, a Taoist temple that felt like an oasis in the middle of a giant city. It really felt like you’d stepped away from the hustle and bustle into a zen garden.

The temple was peaceful, beautifully decorated, and filled with the scent of incense. If you listened carefully, you could hear the cars and the city happening less than ten meters away. But you weren’t listening for it because it felt out of place. Somehow, you feel totally removed from the city, despite being able to see the high-rises right next to you.

War Remnants Museum

And lastly, we caught a bus to the war remnants museum. I’m not usually one to get super emotional in museums, but I’ll be honest this one got to me. I even had to step out of a room to catch my breath.

The atrocities committed by the United States in Vietnam shocked me. I had no idea about the extent of it. I had no clue that the United Nations actually called it a genocide. I think it hit me especially hard because of another genocide being played out before our eyes right now.

It’s a highly recommended museum, and even though it wasn’t easy, I do think it’s an important visit to fully understand what the country and its people experienced in the not-so-distant past. You can’t truly appreciate Vietnam without understanding this part of its history.

Day 4: District 1

Another day spent walking, today was our last day in Ho Chi Minh City, so I really wanted to make sure we soaked in as much of the city as we could, so even though we stayed only in district 1, we clocked about 6 miles.

Nguyễn Huệ Walking Street

One of the city’s most iconic streets, stretching from the statue of Hồ Chí Minh himself all the way down to the riverfront, and there are some really cool buildings along it: the opera house, an iconic coffee building, an old apartment building that’s been converted into a bunch of trendy cafes, a beautiful colonial-era city government office.

We walked down it in the heat and the hot sun of midday, so there wasn’t too much happening except a few other brave tourists willing to walk in the sun.

Japantown and Book Street

We also wandered through Japan town, and ended up getting a Japanese cheesecake, before taking the short walk to book street, lined with book stalls and cafes.

Saigon Central Post Office

We ended our sightseeing at the Saigon Central Post Office, a stunning French colonial building designed by Gustave Eiffel (yeah, the same). It’s still a functioning post office, and it’s also a popular tourist attraction because of its beautiful architecture. Because its so popular with tourists, there’s also a bunch of places to buy post cards inside, and a popular activity is to send the postcards.

I decided to send a few post cards out to some loved sones on the other side of the world. I know postcards used to be a common way of communicating while traveling, but since I can literally call my parents at any time anywhere in the world, it felt extra special to be able to send them a physical postcard from Vietnam.

Flower Market Street Food

After our street food tour on the first night, we knew we needed to head back one more time to satiate our cravings before we headed back to Cambodia, so we did exactly that!

In between some of Jordan’s classes, we headed back to flower street which houses the famous street food market. We got some of the classics that we knew we liked from the food tour, but we also mixed in some new goodies. I started out with dessert and got a grilled banana and rice cake that was smoked inside of a banana leaf, all covered with custard. We got some grilled meats, some Vietnamese fried pancakes, a Vietnamese rice paper pizza, some fried sweet potato balls. I’d say a pretty successful and healthy dinner!

Although I had so much fun in Ho Chi Minh City, I was excited to get back home to Siem Reap—back to my routine that I’ve come to really enjoy, back to my apartment and the Old Market and my daily rhythms.

But I can’t wait to come back to Vietnam in the future. There’s still so much I didn’t get to see. We didn’t make it to the Mekong Delta. We didn’t spend enough time exploring the café culture. We barely scratched the surface of the food scene.

And the coffee. My fellow coffee snobs, Vietnamese coffee is incredible. The strong, dark espresso mixed with sweetened condensed milk over ice—it’s the perfect combination, and I’m so sad that I can’t get it this good anywhere else. I love coffee, and not to be dramatic, but Vietnamese coffee reminded me why I love coffee. I will be back to Vietnam, if for no other reason than to drink the coffee again!

Thanks for reading!

xx abby

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After listening to that song millions of times, I thought I knew exactly what Vienna would look like, sound like, feel like. And I was pumped to go. And I was pretty excited for all of the other places I decided to visit, Salzburg, Ljubljana, Bled and Budapest. I decided on this loop kind of on a whim. Really I could have done any number of loops ending in Vienna with 20 days to spare. But for some reason, I was called to Slovenia, probably because I had never really heard much about it before.

Here’s the thing about travel: sometimes the places everyone talks about are exactly as magical as promised. And sometimes, the places you add as an afterthought (the ones that aren’t on everyone’s bucket list) end up stealing your heart entirely. This trip taught me that the road less traveled isn’t always about finding somewhere totally obscure. Sometimes it’s just about being willing to stray from the top ten lists, to visit the places that don’t have a Billy Joel song written about them.

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After years of imagining the Vienna that I had built up in my mind (with little to no research of what it was actually like) I was finally there. And I had a great time. The people don’t lie, it really is a beautiful city. And since I went in the summer, there were loads of incredible public events to attend, a great parks scene and a fantastic public transportation system. So why didn’t it stand out?

I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because I don’t love museums, and one of Vienna’s biggest draws is its museum scene. But honestly, I think it’s partially the Billy Joel song’s fault. And in all truth, I should have known. I knew Vienna was an imperial city, and a capital city. I should have expected more of a capital city vibe with busy streets and gorgeous (though repetitive) rows of baroque buildings.

“Vienna” has been one of my favorite songs for most of my life, and I think I just built the city up too much in my mind to the point where I was a little disappointed. I wanted it to feel like a smaller town, somewhere that you could really just “slow down.” Although it seems that was just my interpretation of the song, obviously not what Billy Joel originally intended.

Funnily enough, there was another city that I visited because of some of my favorite media: Salzburg. A gorgeous little mountain town famous for being the city of Music, both because Mozart was born there and because The Sound of Music was filmed there. I wonder which one brings in more tourists. If you were unclear on which was my favorite media, it was The Sound of Music, I’m not quite cultured enough to pretend that Mozart is my favorite artist.

Salzburg was incredible. I had built it up in my mind as well, but since I had built it up from visual media, it was harder to stray from the original city than I had with Vienna. I got to take pictures in all of the places from the movie and I got to send them to my mom, who shares my love for the film. Salzburg was also a very special trip because I got to meet up with my friend Charlotte that Jordan and I had met in Morocco. Not to mention Salzburg is just flat out stunning. What is there not to love. A river flowing through, snow capped mountains in the distance, a castle on a hill, stunning lookout points over the city — I was speechless for half of the time we spent there.

If I had to pick between the two cities, it is a no-brainer for me. Some people might pick Vienna, maybe there’s more to do and more to see, and it’s certainly more iconic. But for me, the beauty of Salzburg is not something I can easily ignore. Even though the next two cities I visited really gave Salzburg a run for its money.

I took the bus from Salzburg to Ljubljana, and even though we were mostly on the highway, the route through the Alps was stunning, the kind of scenery that makes you want to press your face against the window like a kid. We finally arrived, walked to our hostel and crashed in our budget backpacker beds.

The next morning, we rented some city bikes (one euro for a whole week :0) and started biking around. What we saw really surprised us. Ljubljana was stunning. It felt like Venice, which I guess makes sense given the proximity to Italy, but I was shocked. The riverside cafes, the abundance of pedestrian-only areas, the castle perched on the hill overlooking everything. It was all effortlessly beautiful. After we’d biked through a good portion of the city, my boyfriend and I looked at each other and realized: this was the Vienna we had invented in our heads.

It was undeniably a city, but a city where you definitely knew your neighbors, where you could easily walk or bike everywhere, where life moved at a pace that actually felt sustainable. There was culture and energy, but none of the overwhelm that comes with major European capitals. While we were there, I decided to Ljubljana to my mental list of places I could genuinely see myself living someday. It’s a small city, but it still has all the positive amenities that come with city living, without the rushed attitude that makes you feel like you’re constantly behind.

After we’d sufficiently explored Ljubljana, we made our way to Bled, a gorgeous little mountain town in the Julian Alps about halfway between Salzburg and Ljubljana. And it was truly straight out of a fairytale.

We had incredible weather when we were there. We walked around the entire lake, stopping constantly to take photos because every angle looked like a postcard. We hiked the Vintgar Gorge, where you walk on wooden pathways suspended over rapids and waterfalls. And because this was an even smaller town than Ljubljana, we finally slowed down.

We talked to shop owners about their favorite spots. We sat and ate ice cream while watching the rowboats on the lake. We took a nap on the lakeshore while reading books.

It was incredible, this is what I’d been chasing the whole trip.

Give Slovenia the love it deserves

So after visiting all of these places, I have some thoughts, favorites, and a least favorite. Sadly, Vienna would have to be the least favorite. I don’t know maybe big city that feels like a big city just isn’t my vibe. All of the other cities I visited had a longer lasting impact on me, and I really enjoyed my time there. Not that I didn’t in Vienna, but it just felt different.

One thing that really surprised me about this revelation is the numbers. Vienna alone attracted 8.2 million tourists in 2024. Just one city. Meanwhile, the entire country of Slovenia welcomed 6.58 million visitors that same year. That’s insane. And Bled, the gorgeous little town in the Alps, had just 481,035 arrivals.

Do the math on that. Vienna gets roughly 17 times more tourists than Bled does. And I get it, Vienna is stunning, it’s historic, it has incredible architecture and a reputation that precedes it. But when I think about where I actually felt like I could slow down, where I actually felt that sense of magic and discovery that made me fall in love with travel in the first place? That was Bled. That was Ljubljana (1.2 million). And that was Salzburg (1.7 million).

I’m not saying everyone should skip Vienna (though if you’ve built it up in your head based on a Billy Joel song like I did, maybe temper those expectations). What I am saying is that sometimes the places that don’t make it onto everyone’s “must-see” list end up being the most memorable. Sometimes the road less traveled is just an hour outside of where everyone else is going. Which makes it all the more sweeter because you get to enjoy it all by yourself!

Slovenia surprised me because I let it. I didn’t have decades of expectations built up. I didn’t have a soundtrack playing in my head telling me what it should feel like. I just showed up, rented a bike, and let the cities reveal itself to me.

xx abby

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It’s part of the reason that we volunteered at a language school in Istanbul, and it’s why both Jordan and I got our TEFL certification this year. So yes, the truth is out. We went through with the plan and now I’ve landed in Cambodia for the next few months.

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The Plan

The plan was simple: land in Phnom Penh, find an apartment, and then quickly start looking for teaching jobs. That plan changed before we even arrived to Cambodia.

A month or so before coming to Cambodia, I had the opportunity to travel to Zambia with my mom’s travel agency. That trip changed things for me: I realized I eventually wanted to take over the family business. Conveniently, around the same time, I also got a promotion which meant taking on a lot more responsibility in the marketing department and quite a few more hours.

So while Jordan would still pursue teaching, I decided not to. Instead, I would use this time in Cambodia to settle into my new role, learn the ropes, and get faster at the work so I could continue managing it when I start traveling again in a few months.

When we landed in Phnom Penh, the plan was still to look at apartments. Jordan had spent hours scrolling through Facebook Marketplace and Khmer24, speaking with real estate agents, and curating a list of places to tour.

But when we started visiting apartments, none of them wowed us. We had a long talk afterwards about whether it was the apartments themselves… or the city.

Phnom Penh is massive. And unlike other big cities that we are used to, it doesn’t have a public transport system which makes it feel that much bigger. The roads are near impossible to cross, with no crosswalks or lights. And the sidewalks double as parking lots and food stalls. For two people who prefer walking where they need to go, it was hard to imagine living there.

Never trust a “what if”

Out of the blue, Jordan said, “What if we don’t stay in Phnom Penh? What if we look at Siem Reap (another city in Cambodia) instead?”

We made a pros and cons list of the two cities. And if I’m being totally honest, on paper, Phnom Penh was looking like the right choice: Better opportunities for jobs, bigger city, more stuff to do, larger community. But the pros for Siem Reap: smaller city, calmer (and cuter), were really hard to ignore. And I don’t know about Jordan, but to me the more and more I looked at Siem Reap, the more I knew that we were going to live there.

Because the thing is, when you change plans that you’ve had for months so quickly. They don’t fully change. They’re just kind of in a weird limbo. We were going to go to Siem Reap and look at apartments. But we told ourselves we weren’t really making a decision, both options were still wide open and we could easily resume the original plan. But I think deep down, I already knew. And when we arrived, I knew immediately: we weren’t going back to Phnom Penh.

Our New Home

We toured a bunch of apartments that day (with Jordan and I both having mild food poisoning). And the very last apartment we saw. One that wasn’t even on our list, the real estate agent just took us because he was free for another hour became our home for the next three months. It’s a two-bedroom apartment near the center for $400 a month. We set up our own Wi-Fi so I could work remotely, and now we shop at the local markets for fruit and veggies to cook at home.

Someone said that Siem Reap is like “a city pretending to be a small town.” And that captures it pretty much perfectly. Online people said you get island fever if you stay here for too long because it’s boring. But I disagree. There’s plenty of stuff to do. Especially if you yourself are good at entertaining yourself. The city is walkable, with a river, markets, street food, restaurants, and just enough buzz to keep life interesting.

Even though Siem Reap was definitely the right fit for Jordan and I, there was a tradeoff. There are far fewer teaching opportunities here. Jordan really wanted to work in a language center, and it would have been difficult in Phnom Penh, but at least possible. But here, there are only a handful of language centers and the competition is steep.

So, he’s figuring things out. He might explore online teaching, or maybe something entirely different. It’s still unfolding, but that’s the nature of travel: plans bend and change, and we adapt.

So, that’s where we’ve landed: not in Phnom Penh as planned, but in Siem Reap, in a cozy apartment, building a different kind of life than the one we first imagined.

Things will look a little different for me in the next few months. I won’t be parading around as much, since I’ll be working more and settling into this new routine. But I’d love your input: what do you want to see more of here on the blog? Let me know in the comments below, or take the quick survey I’ve linked.

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Mantı

I have a storied history with mantı. The first time I tried it, I thought it was made with pork, which made my stomach sour just thinking about it. On top of that, during the month I volunteered at Butterfly Valley, I ate it about eight times, so it became more of a chore than a treat. I thought I didn’t like mantı.

But it turns out I just didn’t like bad mantı.

Good mantı is a revelation. It’s the Turkish cousin of dumplings, and honestly, it’s hard to go wrong with a dumpling. What’s interesting about mantı is that they make the dumplings as small as possible, so tiny that you can fit minimum five on a spoon. A chef that makes the smallest mantı is revered for their skills. It is served with garlicky yogurt and a spicy tomatoey oil, good mantı is understandably a local favorite.

Döner

Döner is what I think most people must think of when they think of turkish food. It is the unofficial official fast food of Türkiye. It is meat that has been slowly roasting on a spit and then the chef shaves off the caramelized bits and adds it into a wrap with lettuce, tomatoes, onions and (ideally) some sort of sauce. It’s quick, filling and tasty. The perfect meal for lunch or after a night out.

Kebab

The Turkish people are very particular and very proud of their kebab (rightfully so). I think a lot of people get the wrong idea of what kebab is and assume it is the same thing as döner, but trust me, its not. Kebab is meat on a stick grilled over an open flame. It’s usually served with bread or wrap, usually alongside grilled vegetables like charred peppers and tomatoes.

From that, there are so many different styles of kebab. I don’t even know all of them, but whatever the style, I do know that kebab is best eaten hot off the grill.

Pide

Pide is often called Turkish Pizza, but really it’s its own thing. It’s a ovular flatbread with raised edges and in the middle are your toppings and cheese. It’s definitely not pizza, but I can see why people make the connection.

Lahmacun

Lahmacun (the “c” is pronounced like a “j”) is another Turkish pizza variation. Instead of being a flatbread though it’s much thinner and crispier. The thin dough is topped with minced meat, herbs and vegetables, then shoved into a stone oven for only a minute or two, where it comes out hot and crispy.

The proper way to eat it: squeeze on lemon juice, pile parsley and salad on top, roll it up, and eat it like a wrap. It is a super light and fresh meal, especially on a hot day, and very addictive. Don’t tell anyone, but I think lahmacun might be at the top of my favorites list.

Börek

Börek is flaky, golden pastry layered with fillings like cheese, spinach, or minced meat. It can be shaped like rolls, spirals, or layered pies, but whatever way it is very buttery and very rich. It’s a super common breakfast or snack, especially if you’re looking for something on the go.

Köfte

Köfte is a dish that crosses borders, found all over the Arab-speaking world under similar names, but Türkiye has its own proud version. Here, köfte means seasoned meatballs. The meat base is made pretty much the same way as everywhere else, with ground beef or lamb mixed with onion, parsley and spices, but then they shape it into small patties and grill them. Usually after that, they will load them into a loaf of break with onions, tomatoes and salad, to make it a more street friendly option.

Street-side köfte stalls are my favorite. Imagine: a grill set up on the sidewalk in the middle of summer. You get your köfte roll and sit on tiny stools on the street corner, or walk through the city eating with your hands. It’s not the fanciest meal, but its still hard to beat.

Meyhane

Meyhane isn’t a meal as much as it is a way to spend an evening. A meyhane is a place one would go to have Rakı (a Turkish liquor that tastes like fennel) and food. Rakı itself is a digestif drink, so you would have a glass, and a few mezzo dishes, rinse wash and repeat. Now, I dont particularly like Rakı, but I do love a mezze type dinner, so I would definitely see myself heading back to a meyhane and loading up on good food.

At a meyhane, you would usually start with cold mezze dishes, and then as the night wears on move on to warm dishes. There are so many classic meyhane dishes, but my favorite would have to be smoked eggplant purée.

Turkish Breakfast

I only ate Turkish Breakfast once somehow, during my five weeks living in Istanbul, but I promise it was really good.

We gathered a group of students and teachers from the language school and headed to a recommended spot for breakfast. At breakfast, you get an overwhelming amount of food put in front of you, and unlimited tea refills. Apparently, it is normal to sit and eat for hours, topping up your tea and just chatting. There was eggs, walnut butter, honey and clotted cream, olives, jams, tomatoes and cucumbers, cheese, fresh bread, and probably a whole lot more that I’m forgetting. I think you could put just about anything on the table as long as there are at least ten items and it would be considered a Turkish breakfast.

Kumpir

This is the one item on this list that I never got the chance to try, but I still feel like I should mention it. Kumpir is the Turkish version of a baked potato, but don’t tell the Turkish people that, they wont believe you.

You can get it just about anywhere, but the most famous is Ortaköy. There, the Kumpir stalls line the walkway, filling the air with smells, but mainly with the sounds of people yelling at you to come to their stand. Behind the glass is an array of many many different toppings. When you get your (massive) baked potato already mashed with butter and cheese until creamy. Then you pile on corn, olives, sausage, pickles, salad, peas and anything else, pretty much as high as you can.

Closed Burger

Have you ever eaten a burger and had the fillings launch themselves out the back, coating your hands in grease and sauce? Yeah, me too. If it’s a good burger, this is a near inevitable outcome.

Enter the closed burger, a genius invention that solves a problem which has been plaguing us for years. Imagine all the fillings sealed inside a bread roll, no mess, no fallout. As a self-proclaimed American, I felt duty-bound to try it.

When it arrives at your table, it looks like a fairly unsuspecting bread roll. Unlikely to encase anything inside. But after just one bite, all of the steam escapes and you find that suddenly you’re eating a burger. The best part of the experience was probably the sauces. The could pack so much sauce into the burger because it was self contained.

Wet Burger

On my last day in Istanbul, I finally tried a wet burger, another burger variety that I felt compelled to weigh in on. It is like a classic burger, no frills, just the bun and the patty, but all soaked in garlicky tomato sauce until it’s tender and, yes… wet. It’s not life changing by any means, but I get the appeal; its quick, cheap and feels like it would taste even better after a night on the town.

Ayran

Not really a meal, but I had to mention it. Ayran is the perfect companion to almost any Turkish dish… nay, any dish. It’s a drink made of just yogurt, water and salt. And don’t knock it before you try it. The first time I tried it, I hated it. The second time, I barely tolerated it. But by the third time, I couldn’t get enough, and now, even after leaving Türkiye, I drink it with any meal I can. And the best part is, even though I can’t buy it everywhere in the world, it is maybe one of the easiest things to make ever.

Turkish food has so much to offer, and from talking to my students about their favorite meals, it seems I barely broke the ice on all the different foods they have here. The Turkish people are extremely proud of their foods, and would argue very strongly that they have the best cuisine in the world. So much so that they even have culinary tourism within the country where they visit a place to try the food where it originates.

I hope this inspires you to try out a Turkish restaurant near you, or even to come to Türkiye and experience it all yourself. Trust me, it’s worth it!

xx Abby

PS. Special thanks to Cale Knopf for sponsoring this post by sending Jordan and I on a culinary tour of Istanbul! This opened my eyes to so much of the cuisine of Türkiye, it truly is one of the best ways to see a city and has inspired me to hopefully do more in the future :)!!!

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Sailing. A Han Solo story. A spin off, a broad reach off the main wind. Yet it also plays to the formulas of a classic sequel or maybe even threequel, in which you find an unlikely ally in your original former enemy: wind. It could be a costly alliance… or it could be a change for good. Character growth on both sides, a new foundation of trust. We shall see.

But yes, for many days, wind had tormented me. We both traveled amongst the desert, but I was clearly in its home court, as I still carry sand in my suitcase to this day. It once again played with our emotions in Butterfly Valley, collapsing tents and howling through the rocks dangling above our heads. And between all those days, it would consistently wreak havoc on my longer haircuts. To all this, I do as man always attempts to do. I go on a journey in an effort to harness such a powerful, uncontrollable force. 

So I need to make an effort to say what needs to be said about sailing. It's great. I’ve always had battles with certain types of activities, feeling as though they are a bit too costly to explore, and that any exploration into them I would be messing around in a higher class of wealth and wouldn’t enjoy that aspect. I think some of this can certainly ring true, but I think that was an undercutting to ambition and simply trying things to see what’s out there. Or maybe, not being afraid to try things as much as possible. Some things will always be deemed as a bit of a “rich man’s sport” and that’s unavoidable. Accessibility will always change things. But sailing has given me proper hope for more creative solutions. It’s always just out there. Join a race. Sit at the docks. Be prepared to get yelled at. Maybe it’s a bit prone to be toxic and stressful? Well so is anything if you try hard enough. It all evens out in the end, because you are truly learning to understand a craft which is still a lot more resourceful than engines, albeit like aqua man, is a bit limited.

So, how did I find my way onto a vessel? I scoured facebook marketplace for over a month, messaged around 3 people a day. I used sites like crewbay and findacrew, and was wholeheartedly ready to walk up to the docks seeking those who needed help. There are ways to get out there. And eventually, with a bit of effort, I had landed a position on a boat sharing direct costs (food, fuel, marinas) for two weeks. And then got promoted to first mate during the second week, spending roughly €200 for over 2 weeks of sailing. Compared to the cost of a hostel in Athens (lowest €18) plus food for 2-3 meals a day (€15 if you tried hard) is a lot cheaper, and an incredibly unique experience where I learned a lot (and still got to explore a lot of Greece, albeit mostly the places on the coast).

I showed up ready to go. At least mentally. It didn’t take but a couple hours once leaving the dock to realize how much a little preparation of at least with a couple of terms or videos actually could have helped me before I started really luffing the jib (And that’s more of a euphemism than proper terminology). Wench, luff, hull, jib, tack, jibe, broad reach, bridle, knots, clove hitch, bowline, telltails. Who knows what else I’m missing. It was a lot for a couple days. And of course though I felt prepared, and luckily had three really experienced sailors to teach me, I know that some proper studying would have made a world’s difference for my efficiency. I have come a long way though, that I firmly believe. A day or two in, I thought that the technique of turning the back of the boat through the wind was called “jiving”. Quite the dance. 

But yeah, so coming out of 2 weeks on the water, I’ve learned the basics and some more on how to sail, I've learned two new cards games, I learned how to solve a Rubik’s cube, I improved my sudoku skills, got some reading done, learned about proper use of HDR and bracketing for photography, had 50 fly bites sprawled across my body for a few days, stubbed my toes a couple times, and saw some good looking sunsets. Pretty good. Who knows how sailing, or any of this stuff really will come back into my life, but I'm sure these things will make a comeback, and I will do my best to make it happen. I like to make the puzzle pieces fit together. I like new tools for the toolbox. I like the ocean, I like Greece, and I like to sail.

So one last question, regarding expectations: Did I know what was actually waiting for me? Sailing often appears to me as an embracing of the elements, a trial of man, tackling the unknown. Maybe a “crossing” can be considered this, but while sailing in the mediterranean has the spirit of some of the elements, it was very much a “psychogeographical” stroll through the islands. As I was told by my captain, a sailor’s plan is drawn into the low tide sand. And so I kept my mind open to possibilities, as the end goal was not even to be fluent, but merely conversational in nautical terms and harnessing the winds. Whatever else happens, happens. It was a first experience of hopefully many, and I feel successful.

We perused the far less traveled islands of Greece, taking on one cove at a time. Swimming. Walking around the nearby land. Eating a meal and heading to the next one. Samothraki had an ever revolving door of waterfalls, Limnos a majestic castle viewpoint for capturing the sunset, and Lesvos has a great museum and display of their petrified forest. Every other day we would drop anchor at either the more easily identifiable towns aforementioned or any quaint village within sight. We would get to indulge in some fish, or even courtesy of my favorite stop in Efstratios, I played a bit of basketball by the beach!

And in this way, I felt the sailing knowledge was never quite overwhelming, but soaked into me with the same consistency of the ever present sun. Voyages for many can be quite time sensitive schedules, but the crew really identified with trying to reject those temptations, embracing the true sailors way. Of course if you ask me to reef, don’t time me, maybe get a quick siesta in and see how it looks after, but my bowline’s pretty good, I can read the waves pretty well, and I’m always ready for some Tacking and Jibing. I may have to relearn quite a few things next time I’m on board. But the sailor’s way sticks with you forever.

Till next time, fair winds everybody.

Jordan

So, I left Istanbul on July 7th, and the week before that I was panicking. I hadn’t seen barely any of Istanbul and I had lived there for over a month. I spent my last week seeing as much as I could and eating as much food as I could so I could say with confidence that I had seen Istanbul. And after that week, I can say that I like Istanbul. Great city. 10/10 would go back again.

After Istanbul I hopped on a flight to Zambia, where I was going to be doing a bit of a recon trip to Zambia for my mom’s travel agency. It was a really good deal for me. I didn’t get paid for doing it, but instead got to stay for free at five star safari lodges and go on safari. My mom’s company did pay for the trip, but I’ve found that a lot of travel agencies do get a pretty heavy discount to go on trips like this so they can experience the lodges firsthand and hopefully recommend them to their clients.

While I was on this trip with other travel agents in Zambia I realized something. I could do this job, and no, not just because of the discounted trips. Because I love Africa, and it would be a pleasure for my job to be showing people just how much I love Africa. Letting them see why, and creating the best possible vacation for them. Obviously it can get a little pedantic planning trips for people and them yelling at you because the safari lodge only has almond milk and not soy milk, or that they don’t like some of the guests at the hotel. But I don’t think I’d mind. Every job has its ups and downs, but I think, for me at least, being a travel agent would be full of ups.

I also thought about adding Morocco to the company’s portfolio. Honestly, I have no idea how that would work. But I love Morocco, and it would be so cool to plan trips there after living in the area for three months. And after Morocco, maybe I’d even start in Egypt, I haven’t been there yet, but Jordan has been dying to visit. So, who knows! I am so lucky to be the nepotism baby of Mrs. Sandy Salle!

After Zambia, I got to go see my family!!!

Okay okay, I did see some family in the UK, which definitely made me feel a lot closer to home. But I haven’t seen family that I had really met before in a whole year. Yeah, it’s been a year since I’ve been gone. So it was so nice to be at home in Harare with my family.

I have been really lucky as of late and was able to visit my family three years in a row in 2021, 2022 and 2023, but last year didn’t visit, so it was incredible to see everyone again. And since the last time I was there there are two more babies, and two more cousins on my Salle side (two of my cousins got married). I got to meet everyone over there, and other than that I just spent my time being retired.

That’s one thing I love about staying with my granny. I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to. The only mandatory is at least one walk during the day. Other than that I read, cooked and caught up on a lot of work. Even though I was technically working when in Zambia, I did no actual work. And so, things needed to be written and posted so much. Especially to prepare for my second European stint.

Oh yeah? Did I not mention, I’m in Europe right now, Vienna specifically. I arrived yesterday evening from Harare, promptly took a nap until dinner time, and then had sleep for dinner. Then, this morning spent the morning at a cafe drawing (no computers allowed) and then picked up Jojo from the train station!!!!!

While I was in Zim and Zambia Jordan was actually working on a sailboat the whole time!! If you want to hear more about Jordan’s experiences sailing, please leave a comment below!!

xx Abby

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1. The fruit trees. There were so many fruit trees. When I had just gotten there, the loquats were nearing the end of their season and the fruits were so unbelievably sweet. I had them in Morocco and liked them, but nothing compares to picking and eating it right off the tree. Once the loquats were done, the mulberries started to ripen. For three full weeks, every day more and more mulberries turned dark purple and juicy. I picked and ate them like it was my job. After some marathon sessions with the other volunteers, we thought we might actually be sick from eating too many. We never were, and so we made the same mistake again ay after day, staining our hands for the remainder of the day.

2. My friends. I love volunteering so much. I feel like every time I do it I make such good friends. There’s just something about being dropped into a remote, unfamiliar place with strangers for a month that bonds you instantly. And I mean really together. We went swimming together. Taught and took dance lessons. Stayed up all night talking. Did the full Cotton-Eyed Joe (multiple times) at the bar in front of all the Turkish workers. We became a nice little family after all of these small things.

3. Blue waters. I’ve swam in some pretty blue waters. And I don’t know if these waters necessarily take the cake. But they’re pretty damn blue. Not to mention incredibly refreshing. So refreshing that if it wasn’t a warm day, I wouldn’t even consider getting in the water. The water was so salty that if you air-dried, a soft white powder would coat your skin. This made it really nice to float in. Sometimes the water was glassy and calm, perfect for paddleboarding. Other days, the waves would be so choppy I’d feel seasick sitting still. But every day, the sea was breathtaking. From the cliffs above, the color of the water was unreal.

4. The culture. The best way to learn about a culture is to be in the thick of it. And I was. Even though the valleys is technically a tourist destination, all of the people who work there are Turkish, and a lot don’t even speak English. Even though there was a language barrier, I feel like I got to know a bit of Turkish culture. Especially through dancing. After dinner, some of us would head over to the bar where there was music playing, and we would stand in a circle where everyone would be doing Turkish dancing.

5. Taking photos. I think this is something that I will actually take with me for the rest of my travels. While staying here, I was in charge of creating content for social media, which meant I was taking a lot of photos and videos. By the end of the month, I ended up with probably close to a thousand, which I can now use for anything I want to. I am usually pretty bad about taking photos, and even worse about taking videos. But hopefully being forced to document everything has created the habit, and I can take more photos and videos in the future!

Even though my experience was overwhelmingly positive, there are some things that made me feel good despite a sad departure from all of my friends. Here are a few things I will not be missing about the valley

1. The food. I am not made for Mediterranean cuisine, it’s as simple as that. I am allergic to bell peppers (capsicum) and the same argument could be made for cucumbers except I eat them anyways. Almost every single dish of Türkiye has peppers in it, even chopped up tiny or in the sauce. It’s almost unavoidable. I tried taking pills to prevent the heartburn, but eventually I had to stop eating them. I talked with the chefs and asked if they could make me something else, and sometimes they did. times I was given a sad plate of rice, bread, and yogurt. I will miss the fact that food was free though.

2. Sleeping in a tent. I feel like I don’t need to say too much about this one. It was fun to camp for a week or two, the fresh air was always welcome, but near the end of the month I started to experience a type of filth that wouldn’t come off with a lukewarm shower.

3. Lack of organization. Given that I was working in Butterfly Valley, I came into contact with the management once or twice. I think they had the classic problem here of too many cooks in the kitchen. There were constant miscommunications that involved the volunteers, so I can’t even imagine how many there were about the actual staff (considering there were easily over 50 members of staff). It got pretty frustrating being told one thing and then another, and realizing that nobody sharing the management title actually talked to each other.

Writing this, I have been out of the valley for three days and already the negatives are fading. What sticks are the good things: the friends I made, the peace and tranquility I experienced, the quiet mornings and sweet mulberries.

If I could, I’d plant a mulberry tree everywhere I go. Maybe I will.

xx abby

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I have a discount link to world packers, if you’ve ever been considering trying it out!

Check out Worldpackers!!

In the case of Butterfly Valley, I saved closer to $80 a night just on housing. I stayed in a tent like the rest of the staff, and yeah it wasn’t incredibly luxurious, but it had a light and a power strip, which is more than most tents. On top of housing, we were given meals, access to yoga mats, discounted drinks and food at the restaurants, unlimited use of kayaks and paddleboards, and free ferry rides to and from the valley.

I highly recommend Worldpackers to anyone who is considering slow travel. It really extends how long you can stay out and you meet so many other travelers who become fast friends!

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The Valley

The only way in and out of the valley is by boat. The day that we arrived, the sea was so rough so there was only one ferry going in or out of the valley. We went to a very sketchy little beach and were just told to wait for the boat there. The boat was about 20 minutes late, we took off our shoes, hoisted our bags over our heads and tossed them onto the boat. Then we took the wild ride so choppy I wasn’t convinced we would keep our bags.

Once we made it into the cove that houses Butterfly Valley, the waves were considerably less menacing and I was finally able to relax and take in the beauty and sheer size of the valley. Its massive. The cliffs rise up so high that even days into being there, I wasn’t sure I truly understood how big they were

.

I regret not spending more time just looking up. I saw the ocean and the greenery, but I think I missed out on really seeing the cliffs in their full glory.

The Fruit Trees

But my favorite thing about the valley probably wasn’t the beauty, but all of the fruit trees! It seemed like every area was a new grove of fruits to eat. When we first arrived, loquat season was ending, and the fruit was juicy, sweet, and perfect straight off the tree.

Once the loquats finally ran out, the mulberries came into season. I ate so many that my socks and clothes are now permanently stained with purple juice. I should have stuck to the less conducive to staining white mulberries which there were more than a few trees of. I had never tried them before, but they were like a regular mulberry, but even sweeter because it didn’t have the tart flavor. Despite our efforts, the volunteers did not manage to eat all of the mulberries, which is saying a lot because we tried. But no matter how many we ate, there were always more and more ripe fruits the next day.

Just before I left, the apricots started ripening!! I definitely sat under the apricot tree and ate the ripe fruits off the floor and branches. The kitchen also made use of all of the apricots by serving apricots in syrup for dessert one night and handing out the fruits at lunch and dinners on some special days.

The Work

Everyone volunteering had a different role. Some people were building things, some taught yoga, some worked the bar, and Jordan was helping to redesign the website. I was assigned to social media—taking photos, filming videos, and designing graphics.

I didn’t exactly choose the job, but I didn’t fight it either. If I had really pushed, I’m sure they would’ve let me switch roles. It was draining at times. Five hours a day, six days a week. And because my role was to capture “cool moments,” it felt like I was always on alert. Even when I was off the clock, my mind was on the next video idea.

But honestly? I’m grateful for it. I usually forget to take photos or videos when I travel, and this job forced me to document everything.

The Friends

I made so many friends in the Valley, both volunteers and full-time staff. People were just so kind and welcoming. I’ve said it before, but I really do think volunteer experiences attract likeminded people that you are just meant to become friends with.

As a group, we ate every single meal together. Constantly growing in our table size to accommodate for the new volunteers in our growing ranks. After breakfast, we would all split off for our volunteering tasks, then by the afternoon, we would all just hang out. We would go swimming, paddle boarding, tanning, or at one point we even started doing dance lessons!

I learned the bachata and (kinda) merengue too. And I did my solemn American duty of teaching everyone the Cotton-Eyed Joe. We would do these dances for ourselves in the afternoons, and sometimes again at the bar after dinner when the music started and the stars came out.

A Day off in Ölüdeniz

We had one off day a week, which meant if we wanted to, we take the ferry to the closest town, Ölüdeniz, and get some shopping done, walk around, or get some food at a restaurant. After eating cafeteria food for a week, that last one was a big deciding factor to visit town.

One time a big group of the volunteers went into town to go paragliding. Whenever you sit on the beach in Ölüdeniz, you always see the paragliders floating through the sky, or speeding towards the promenade ready to land.

I was really nervous and originally wanted to back out. But by the time our van made it all the way to the top of the mountain I was ready. I got suited up and I jumped. Here are some pics!!

I also got a picture from my Auntie Celle who did the same thing a while back, here is the photo she sent me of her paragliding in Ölüdeniz.

Waving Goodbye

I feel like every time I volunteer somewhere it is a hard goodbye, and this experience was no exception. This place felt like a real break and escape from real life. Just like I was living on an island with all of my friends. I’m almost glad that I was one of the first few people to go, so I didn’t have to say bye to everyone before me.

I guess I can only be grateful that saying goodbye was hard, because that just means that I met incredible people that made my time in the valley worthwhile.

xx abby

As exciting as it is to travel to a new country, I dont think it outweighs the emotion of leaving a country. Especially when that country has been your home for three months, and you have made countless new friends, and have to leave the city that you have spent two months living in with your new friends as roommates. Considering I was saying goodbye to friends who I spent every moment of the day with, I wasn’t as sad as I thought I would be when we all said goodbye infront of the taxi. Although, I will admit, the emotion I felt the most of was confused. I was in shock that I was leaving.

My one last souvenir from Anza was a bunch of shwarma wraps from Mr. Beldi, one of our favorite fast food places in town, and then we were off. We made it to the bus station (barely, our taxi driver was insane) and on our bus without a hitch. The bus drive went by quickly, due to my newfound superpower of sleeping on buses, and by the time I woke up and ate the last of my shwarmas, it was almost time to get off and make the four minute trek to our hostel.

We stayed at an official Morocco Youth Hostel, and it reminded me of all of the stories my dad used to tell about youth hostels, where the floors were separated by gender and there was a curfew that you had better be back in time for, or you weren’t getting back in. The only problem with that is Jordan thought we had booked a private room in the hostel, but turns out it was a bit more confusing than that and I ended up with my own private room on the women’s floor and Jordan ended up in a male dorm room.

Jordan set us up incredibly well for an easy travel day. Before we went to bed, we walked back to the bus station, and asked a taxi driver if anyone would be available at 6:30 am the following morning to take us to the airport, he asked us where we were staying and said he would be there to pick us up the next morning. And believe it or not, he was.

Once we got to the airport the count began. The count of what you must be asking? The count of how many times we got out passport and boarding pass checked.

We walked to the check in desk to get our boarding pass verified. One to stand in the line. The second at the desk. The man asked Jordan to try to fit his carry-on into the size checker box, he managed to squeeze it in, but had trouble getting it out again, which brought some laughter to all the other guests in line. We then get into the line to get our baggage checked. Three. The line actually goes surprisingly fast. Then, passport control. Four.

I go buy water from one of the shops. Five. We have security to sit at our gate. Six. I have to go to the bathroom, so when I come back, Seven. We finally board our flight, Eight, but at the door to the aircraft, once again they check it, bringing the total count of the day to nine times.

All jokes aside though, this has got to be one of the easiest travel days I have ever experienced. Everything went off without a hitch. Even when we had to exit London Gatwick to reenter though security, we had ample time to get back in, eat a burrito, and wait for our flight. London Gatwick CSA has stats for the number of people served and the percentage of people passed through. And would you even believe it, somehow, the first time in my life, the line I got in was the most productive out of all of them. We would have made it through in five minutes if it wasn’t for Jordan having to get his bag hand searched for having a deck of cards. Tip: if you have a deck of cards, take it out before going through security at Gatwick, apparently they really don’t like card decks there.

The flight we were on was very smooth, except for the last hour, when a drunk bickering (british) couple was placed in the empty seats behind us, and we spent the last hour listening to them saying how they were going to get arrested at the gate. Once landed security was a breeze, I think I can thank the fact that my passport control agent didn’t speak any English.

Finally through the airport, and close to midnight, we waited in the cold rain for about an hour for a local bus so we could save 20 bucks. We had made it to Fethiye, and the next morning, despite the weather trying to stop us, we would hop on a boat to Butterfly Valley, where we would spend the next month volunteering!!

xx abby

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[Want to know more on how we applied and got the spot? I’ve got a whole post about that here!]

Ramadan

We actually arrived to Anza on the first day of Ramadan, arriving on the doorsteps as the first fast of the month was broken. The stillness of Ramadan allowed us a few days to get settled into a rhythm at the hostel without anything being too crazy. It also made the town of Anza seem a lot quieter than it is for the rest of the year. At least once during the month, every single one of the volunteers fasted to try to experience some of the culture. After Eid, things sped up in Anza a bit, there were more hotel excursions, more people out and about on the street and there were way more restaurants open after. If this interests you, I actually have a whole blog post up on my experience with Ramadan, Eid and my whole two days of fasting [read here]

Hostel life

One of the most amazing things about volunteering at a hostel, or even just staying at a hostel, for so long is the amount of people that you meet. Guests, other volunteers, locals or random people that show up. I have a theory that its really easy to click with other volunteers because there is a certain set of life decisions and personality choices that have led you to be at the same place, doing the same thing, at the same time. Not to mention you are stuck in the same place and situation for a few weeks, which makes bonding basically inevitable

The work around the hostel wasn’t too much either. We had one five hour shift per day, we worked six days a week, sometimes we had to answer questions from guests while we were on shift. But other than that it was mostly just hanging around the hostel, going to taghazout with friends or other volunteers, doing a bit of other work, or hanging around with the hostel’s cat and kittens.

Surfing

The surf culture in Anza was really interesting. Most tourists really only come to Anza for the surf, because theres not much else to do in the area.That being said, the surf in Anza is good. Usually pretty big. Sometimes huge surf schools would come to the beaches of Anza because when there is no surf elsewhere, we still had waves in Anza. That means when there was surf everywhere else, the waves in Anza were often too big for beginners. Once Jordan finally got the hang of surfing though, he would head out to the lineup and most days the surf was fantastic for him!

For me, the surf was all around too big. I think I would have excelled if the waves were like one foot high to begin with, but they were usually closer to a meter. Even though I mostly stayed in the whitewash waves, they were just so big and I couldn’t handle it. I went surfing about four times before deciding that I wasn’t even having fun. From that point I decided to just have fun on the sand, and every once in a while dip in the ocean.

The food

Jordan and I have decided that Moroccan food is the best cuisine that we have tried thus far. The only close second would be fish and chips. Anza had fantastic traditional moroccan restaurants which had the classics: tagine, couscous. The town wasn’t big enough for there to be restaurants that also served classics like rfissa and pastilla, but we managed to find some in other towns nearby [like Essaouira ;)].

One of the main industries in Anza was fishing, so you better believe that had good fish restaurants! You could go to a fish place that has fish on ice, you order it and then they grill it up, or there are also places that do fried fish which I really enjoyed.

But my favorite food to eat out by far was seafood tagine. Any time you ordered it, you knew that you had to plan to be there for at least an hour and a half, because they put the tagine on the fire when you order it. About halfway though waiting, when you’re nice and hungry, the smell of fresh seafood, butter and garlic wafts over to you table and you begin to salivate. Finally, when the chefs are done taunting you, they bring out a beautiful display of seafood, garlic and cheese. The only acceptable way to eat a seafood tagine (well really any tagine for that matter) is with your hands and some bread, and so I did. Many, many times.

I also did a lot of eating in. As good as all of the tagines, fish, shwarmas and French tacos were, sometimes nothing beats a home cooked meal. And seeing as I finally had access to a kitchen, fridge and pantry, I made a lot of food at home. The hostel we were at was just a few minutes walk from the local soup, where you could get fruits, veggies, spices and just about anything you really needed to make a dinner. [Find four of the recipes I made often here]

Not everything was perfect… but it was close

In two months a lot of good happened, but I won’t lie and say it was all smooth sailing. Jordan and I had a seemingly endless cold that just wouldn’t go away. Jordan was so sick for a few nights he couldn’t even sleep in the bedroom because it was too stuffy and he would cough all night long. I only managed to go surfing four times because I was so afraid of the big waves. Despite all of this, our time went by too quickly. Somehow two months felt like two weeks. I had two months to enjoy in Anza, I wasn’t worried about doing everything all the time. Until one day, it was our last day and we were getting in the taxi, to go to the bus station, to go to the airport.

Final Thoughts

All in all, my two months volunteering at the surf house are probably the two best months that I have spent traveling thus far. There’s something about slow travel and actually living and fully experiencing a new environment that is so incredible. All of the people I met were amazing, I would live this experience again at Anza Surf House 100 times over again.

If you ever decide to to something like this at a surf hostel, anywhere in the world not just Morocco, I do have a few pieces of advice:

1. Apply early and to as many places as possible as surf hostels (and hostels in general) are a very desirable place to do a work-stay trade. You may not get the first one you apply to, but if you stay consistent and you are committed to finding a position, you will!

2. Keep an open mind to where you’re going, a hostel is a hostel and even if it isn’t in your dream location, you may just have a better time than you would have thought.

3. Always say yes! Whether it’s to surfing, or to a group hangout or excursion, because no matter how many times you go, you’ll never regret doing more.

xx abby

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