Compass
The next time you watch the extravaganza that is the modern Olympic Games, consider this: It all started with a simple footrace. To history lovers like me, the Sanctuary of Olympia — the religious site used for the ancient competitions — is almost as legendary as the games. The archaeological site of ancient Olympia is rich with history and littered with intriguing ruins, making it an irresistible stop on my road trip around the Peloponnese Peninsula. To add to the fun, ancient Olympia's history reads like a Hollywood script — full of drama, parties, and even one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Even in its ruined state, the site inspires awe.
I entered Peru via Bolivia – on a boat from Lake Titicaca and then a bus across the border. Peru marked my 40th country visited. At an altitude of 4,000+ meters, I was riding high and proud of traveling through 40 countries as a solo female traveler. I felt like an old pro, until the altitude really did get to me.
March is Women’s History Month. Celebrated in the UK, the USA, and Australia to coincide with International Women’s Day on March 8th, this month highlights the contributions women have made to events in history and contemporary society.
This may seem a little strange but Women’s History Month always has me thinking about travelling to Malta. It is the birthplace of my grandmother; my mother’s mother. Like many women in my family, Malta is small but feisty. And again like my family, it is filled with stories about strong women and great respect.
The limestone buildings shimmer in the blazing Texas sun. A Franciscan friar emerges from the parish office behind the church. I briefly wonder whether he’s melting under his brown habit. I know I am, and I’m wearing shorts. Weather considerations aside, the sight conjures images of a once-bustling religious community. Brown-robed monks give religious instruction in Spanish and teach practical skills. Coahuiltecan Indians weave on the looms or hammer away in the smithy—an ordinary day at one of the San Antonio Missions in the 18th century.
New Orleans has been the backdrop of many dark chapters in American history, but perhaps none so shocking as the slave rebellion of 1811. We will explore the history of America's largest slave revolt with author Daniel Rasmussen who organized his research in his book, American Uprising: The Untold Story About America's Largest Slave Revolt.
Fresh lynx tracks weave through deep powder near Quesnel Lake in British Columbia's Cariboo Mountains. At minus 18 degrees Celsius, the morning air crystallizes our breath as Ryan, our EcoTours BC guide, motions us to pause. Though the elusive lynx remains hidden, its story is written in the snow. Here, it stalked a snowshoe hare. There, it rested beneath a sheltering spruce. Its tracks trace a single line across the surface of a frozen river. The vast wilderness stretches before us, an untamed landscape where mountain peaks disappear into low clouds and ancient forests harbor secrets beneath 27 feet of annual snowfall.
People tend to skip over Sumatra when they travel to Indonesia. Bali is always their top pick. In North Sumatra lies Lake Toba, a hidden gem that intertwines historical and cultural allure.
Yolanda ‘Yollie’ Copeland is a woman with a mission. The retired sheriff’s deputy, who moved to Jacksonville, Florida in 2013, is committed to making sure that the city’s rich Black history isn’t erased. She does it by tooling around town in an advertising-covered, low-speed electric vehicle, wearing a bright yellow shirt, shoes, and hat, and sharing her love for the area and the people who shaped it.
JEconomy Hall is an important institution in New Orleans that speaks about hidden history of free black brotherhood. If author Fatima Shaik’s father had not rescued the records and books from early Economy Hall meetings that lay in a dumpster, we may not have known of the hidden history of free Black people in New Orleans.
Travel used to be slow. Granted, it was slow because there was no other way...Somewhere along the way, we got (very) lost.
It was about 10:30 pm, the darkness so inky you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. The leafy boughs of late-spring trees blocked even the starlight. My friend whispered, "Do you want to see the blue ghosts? They live near the cemetery up the trail."
