The GypsyNesters

Fear Conquering & Hate Mail

A comment on our site:

“In my opinion, anyone who would refer to children in such a disgusting and disrespectful way (adult or not) is an emotionally bankrupt shell of a person…”

BAM! My first hate mail.

I read a lot of blogs. Any of them worth their salt raise strong emotion and spark debate on their message boards. Sometimes it can get a bit heated, but makes for a nice balance.

We have had comments on our website that strongly disagree with our opinions and we relish them, we value every… CONTINUE READING >>

Fear Conquering

A comment on our site:

“In my opinion, anyone who would refer to children in such a disgusting and disrespectful way (adult or not) is an emotionally bankrupt shell of a person…”

BAM! My first hate mail.

I read a lot of blogs. Any of them worth their salt raise strong emotion and spark debate on their message boards.

Sometimes it can get a bit heated, but makes for a nice balance.

We have had comments on our website that strongly disagree with our opinions and we relish them, we value every addition to the conversation. Good stuff all the way around.

But this one hit me like a punch to the gut. My mother-in-law once told me I was too thin-skinned and I was beginning to believe it.

My first thought was, “OMG — was my message unclear? Did I go overboard with the snarkyness and cloud the overriding theme?”

I don’t mind criticism (I say with more bravado than I actually have), but being a bad writer horrifies me. Was my post so bad that it didn’t even make sense? Should I delete the post or rewrite it? Tone down the snark?

I fired off an e-mail to an old school chum who grew up to be a college professor. “Is my post as bad as I’m convincing myself it is?” One of those tell me like it is — I can take it e-mails. I knew he would do just that, which further panicked me as I hit the SEND button.

I waited — obsessively reading and rereading the post and the response — unable to see either objectively.

As luck would have it, Grown Up Professor was online and got back to me quickly. He assured me that my point was indeed clear. Whew. OK. Better. He went on to say he didn’t think my post was mean spirited at all.

Wait. What? My thin-skinned brain went back to reeling. Grown Up Professor may not have thought it mean spirited, but do others (aside from the hate mailer)?

Snarky as we can be, our site’s focus is to cheer people on, to help folks overcome the sadness that comes when the kids leave the nest – and we use humor to do this. Our writing is meant to empower people, not ruin their day. Damn.

I called my sister-in-law. She’d hand it to me straight; we have always had one of those exceptional relationships that transcends our differences. We frequently debate all of those untouchable subjects — politics, religion, music — with vigor and calm. We also respect each other immensely as parents. As the mother of my beautiful and inspirational special needs niece, she is truly my hero. She is devout, feminine and, unlike me, never cusses.

In other words, if my post were offensive, it was going to offend her. Not something I was eager to do.

Listening to her giggle as she read the post while I sweated it out on the other end of the line was music to my ears. She assured me that it was fine. Again, WHEW!

My son, The Boy, called soon after to actually congratulate me.

“Hey Mom,” says The Boy, “You got your first hate mail – you’ve made it!”

As I hung up the phone I began to wonder if my mother-in-law was indeed correct (as she often is) about my thin-skinly-ness. After all, she’s known me since I was a teenager. All the signs are there – even my kids incessantly tease me about it.

I sometimes wonder if I will ever be able to stand up for myself without the safety net of my family and friends. But I do know this– the next hate mail won’t sting so much.

As my wise Daddy told me (okay, I called him too – just to cry on his shoulder), “If you don’t want to be hated on, you can just sit around and do nothing. Even then – that’s no guarantee.”

Jeez, I really need to grow a pair.

Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Click here to see the post (complete with the full comment that made my thin skin thinner).

YOUR TURN: What do you think? Am I too thin skinned? Have you had a similar experience? How did you handle it?

Let Us Introdoos-ya to Noosa, Australia

The area is stunningly beautiful — packed full of national parks, state forests, beaches, and wildlife — and is quite the foodie town!

Join your GypsyNesters as we jump into adventure, cavort with kookaburras, drop bears and mamils, swim at the base of a waterfall, and eat and relax our way through Noosa… CONTINUE READING >>

After the decidedly unnatural feeling of falling from the sky and landing on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, we were ready to get a little grounded.

Maybe even spend a little time communing with nature. Noosa was just the place.

Resorting to Relaxation

The area is packed full of National Parks and State Forests and our home for the next few days, the Outrigger Resort, sits right on the edge of Noosa National Park.

To shake off the remaining shakes we had from skydiving, we walked out our door and up the trail to the lookout atop Noosa Heads.

Our tranquil hike was also in hope of getting a rare peek at one of the wild koalas that reside in the park, but alas, our koala gazing was to be confined to the rescued variety we had already seen.

Our only consolation was a phenomenal view of the Coral Sea. Gee whiz, life is hard!

To complete our relaxation efforts, and reiterate just how difficult our lives can be, we stopped in at Stephanies Ocean Spa.

I was obviously in need of some sarcasm reduction, but they recommended Mineral Floatation Therapy in their mineral floatation pool. The idea is that the water’s high salt and mineral content makes a body so buoyant that it becomes almost like zero gravity. The muscles can completely relax and rejuvenate.

The freakishly buoyant Veronica reclined blissfully atop the saline solution, even nodding off for a short nap while buoyed by the mineral bath.

I, however, do not float. Never have, never will.

My experience was much more akin to a shipwreck victim desperately trying to survive by treading water for dear life than any mind-clearing Zen stress reduction therapy. I gave up and sat on the edge soaking my feet while she serenely snoozed.

Getting off the Beaten Path

The next day we continued our park explorations with Off Beat Eco Tours on a trip through Conondale National Park and Imbil State Forest.

Owner/guide, Pete Blashki, picked us up in his safari wagon and whisked us off for a bushwhackin’ romp through the hinterlands.

Along the way Pete regaled us with gems of Aussie slang, legend, and folklore.

By the time we reached the forest we learned that…

We kept an eye out for drop bears in the bunya trees!

a) Noosa is better known as Land of a Thousand Roundabouts (there are a freakishly large amount of them)

b) the roadways are filled with MAMILs (Middle Aged Men In Lycra) on bicycles

and

c) to be very wary of drop bears which, as near as we could tell, are some sort of mythical (depending on who you ask), giant, vicious, carnivorous, dive-bombing superkoalas.

As with the traditional koalas, we didn’t spot one.

A MAMIL, middle aged man in lycra in Noosa, Queensland, Australia — We did, however, spot a MAMIL 🙂

Once inside the park we put the four-wheel drive on the wagon to the test, venturing deep into the woods on long-forgotten logging roads.

While we may have dodged the drop bears, we did see an abundance of wildlife, including an amazingly close encounter with kookaburras, and a much briefer view of a wallaby as he hopped hurriedly past us.

Periodically we got out to hike deeper into the jungle for a closer look at some of the amazing plant life surrounding us, including massive fig trees that rival the California Redwoods in size.

The trees changed drastically as we went up and down in altitude, with the figs dwelling down in the valleys with plentiful water, and eucalyptus thriving higher up.

Even in the forest shade it was getting hot, so Pete led us to an inviting stream.

After a cool, refreshing dip in the pool formed at the base of a waterfall, we were ready for a bite to eat.

As deep in the woods as we were, Pete set up a big surprise for us that could only be described as the opposite of roughing it.

Stopping in the middle of nowhere, he climbed onto the roof of the truck and produced a table, complete with linen cloth, china, silver and glassware, and a grill.

In no time at all, we were enjoying a wilderness fine-dining experience of fresh baked bread and homemade spreads prepared with ingredients foraged from the jungle, roasted veggies, sausages, and drop bear.

Perhaps we shouldn’t question Pete’s straightforwardness, but our drop bear tasted suspiciously like chicken.

Noosa: Foodie Town Extraordinaire!

Once Pete dropped us off back in civilization it occurred to us that, based on his elegant backwoods presentation, and the attention to detail we found at the little beachside eateries, Berardo’s Bistro…

and Season…

we had previously stopped into, food is very important to the inhabitants of Noosa. That became crystal clear later that night when we went for dinner at Locale.

As the name implies, the location is fabulous, with open sides facing the street and a garden, but that alone would not account for the popularity. Locale’s distinctive approach to Italian cuisine didn’t disappoint, with an intriguing selection of antipasti, primi piatti, secondi, and insalate.

We tried several interesting offerings, but more than anything left with the feeling that they really know their way around a gnocchi.

To Market, to Market

For a closer look at where all of this food was coming from, we stopped by the Sunday Noosa Farmer’s Market.

Browsing through the rows of booths there was an incredible abundance of fresh produce and every imaginable meat, including kangaroo.

Though we had massively mixed feelings about consuming roo; we, as we often do in our travels, found ourselves wishing we had a kitchen to stock.

But there was so much more than farm products on display. In some ways it was like a community breakfast, with booths brimming with all sorts of delectable goodies.

Baked goods were especially popular, with good ole Australian meat pies leading the way.

But almost anything out of an oven was available; we even found the fire-baked sweet rolls called Trdelník (chimney cakes) that we discovered in the Czech Republic.

There were also riots of flowers and plants, arts and crafts, herbal remedies for most any ailment, and a little music to keep things peppy.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time to dally, we had a date with a kayak and yet another National Park, so we grabbed a meat pie and figs before making tracks.

Kayaking Like (we’re with) a Champion

We followed the Noosa River to Great Sandy National Park, where we met up with former Australian kayaking champion Vivienne Golding of Kanu Kapers for a day of paddling around Lake Cootharaba and swamps, and ponds that form its everglades.

Paddling turned out to only be part of our propulsion.

We did a lot of tranquil drifting too, so as not to disturb the waterfowl, or ourselves. Then on our way back across the lake Vivienne rigged us up with a sail and we effortlessly skimmed across the water.

See more about our day kayaking the Noosa Everglades with a champ!

After all of the peaceful bliss of Noosa, we were feeling ready to push the envelope again.

Perhaps we should attempt surfing in Surfer’s Paradise at Gold Coast, no wait, how about feeding hungry crocodiles?

Perfect.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Delve Deeper:
Where we stayed: Outrigger Resort
Where we ate: Berardo’s Bistro, Season, Locale
Where we relaxed: Stephanies Ocean Spa
Go to the Off Beat Eco Tours website
See more about our day kayaking the Noosa Everglades with a champ!
Watch us skydive above beautiful Queensland – yikes!
Find out how we got to cuddle a koala!
Bucket list check! We snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef!
Follow us into the Queensland Hinterland
Go for the Gold Coast and watch us feed crocs!
Find out how we saw all of the bizarre Australian animals in one place!
Let us Spread a Little Sunshine Coast

Huge thanks to Tourism and Events Queensland for providing this adventure! As always, all opinions are our own.

Click here to see all of our adventures in Queensland!

What I Learned at My First Women’s Retreat

The odd, nomadic lifestyle that I live (and love) is not especially conducive to making intimate, long-term connections. Something that I miss, and am sorely out of practice in pursuing.

But I wasn’t sure that a women’s retreat was right for me.

The lessons that I learned were completely unexpected… CONTINUE READING >>

Thanks to Women at Woodstock for inviting me along and providing this nurturing experience! As always, all opinions are my own.

Women At Woodstock

I have to admit to my reservations before agreeing to attend Women at Woodstock.

When was first invited, I literally thought UGH. Is a women’s retreat for me?

It didn’t sound like my thing – at all.

Then, I dug a little deeper and became intrigued. I’m always looking to beef up my writing skills, so the writing workshops were really exciting to me, and the business stuff looked invaluable.

But, oddly enough (and I hate to admit this) it was the estrogen-infused events that prodded me to accept the invite.

Obviously, I needed some girl time, STAT.

So we pointed BAMF toward New York, took in some fall festivals and enjoyed the riotous autumn colors before David dropped me at Emerson Resort and Spa where the retreat was held.

All for ME? My glorious writing den for three nights!
All for ME? My fabulous room at Emerson Spa & Resort

I was to meet my fellow retreat-ers that night at a pre-dinner wine hour. A combination of not wanting to leave my blissful room, a pre-game bout of painful social awkwardness, and a hyperawareness that I would want to write about my experience (which, in retrospect, put me in a weird outsider/a-little-too-judge-y headspace), made me not exactly the best dinner company.

The odd, nomadic lifestyle that I live (and love) is not especially conducive to making intimate, long-term connections. Something that I miss, and am sorely out of practice in pursuing.

After dinner, I made a beeline to the workout room to blow off some steam and shake off some of my social awkwardness. While on the treadmill I sent a litany of self-indulgent “Camp Granada“-type texts to David. Hello muddah, hello faddah…

Much like the parents at the receiving end of “Camp Granada,” David encouraged me to stick it out, stop acting like a baby, and to take off my reporter’s cap so I could let myself go and experience the goings-on as I was supposed to.

So I did. I went back to my room, lit a fire and laid out my big girl panties for the next day.

Anoek van Praag speaking at Women At Woodstock

Heeding David’s advice to go all in, I started the morning with an I-would-never-normally-attend-this-kind-of-thing workshop entitled “From Trauma to Love, Past to Present” led by Anoek van Praag, a woman who defies a pigeon-holing description from a mere mortal like me.

Anoek speaks of love, life, sex, fear conquering — and the passion (and science) of it all — with such frankness, that I soon found myself blurting out a (very) personal childhood experience to a group of women I barely knew. I was horrified, where did that come from?

Victoria Zackheim at Women At Woodstock

My afternoons were spent with Victoria Zackheim in her writing intensives. The joy of writing oozes from Victoria’s pores, and she whipped up storylines faster than my brain could process them.

My mind was stretched beyond repair (in a good way!) and, on those days in the future when I find writing a drudgery, I have a new muse to call up. (How’d I do Victoria? An entire paragraph without one single overflowery, trumped up, underwhelming, unnecessary adjective! Right?)

Ivy Slater speaks at Women At Woodstock

My next horrifying blurt was emitted during Ivy Slater’s class on “Conquering Your Fear of Money.”

Her ah-ha approach to helping us explore our relationships (and hang-ups) with the almighty dollar was brilliant, teetering on the edge of psychotherapy. Well, if psychotherapy was fun.

My blurt came out something like this: YOU MEAN I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO FEELS LIKE I DON’T DESERVE SUCCESS?!?! To which the entire room basically said: WHAT?!?! NOOOOOO!

Oh, wait (finally, the epiphany): Blurting = Bonding! I’d become so rusty, I hadn’t realized what was happening. I was beginning to trust the bond that was developing between me and this group of fascinating women. Progress.

Dinner at Emerson Resort and Spa — Here’s the main course!

I found myself being a much better dinner guest that night.

Fed — both body and soul — I found myself in my room by the fire again. This time, writing my butt off.

On day two, I was feeling my oats.

I found myself volunteering to speak (and receive honest feedback) in Susanna Baddiel‘s “Personal Impact Training”…

Susanna Baddiel at Women at Woodstock

hobnobbed with the uber-talented photographer Lisa Levart…

See more of Lisa’s incredible art

and the inspiring, wide-open and kind Amy Ferris, author of Marrying George Clooney: Confessions from a Midlife Crisis. Amy walks into a room, and the entire place lights up with warmth, humor, and a freak-of-nature-ish sort of groovy energy.

Ann Voorhees Baker

I corralled Ann Voorhees Baker, founder of Women At Woodstock, to get her vision of these gatherings. Her answer?

“To contribute to the coalescence of the community of women over fifty, to create an environment where women help each other achieve goals they have had, but may never have pursued.”

Here is just a brief taste of the amazing connections I saw going around me:

— When Kathleen Welby-Moretti found out that she was being honored, along with singer Natalie Merchant, for her work on the short film, Shelter, she needed to craft a speech on the fly… during the retreat. Victoria Zackheim quickly jumped in to assist her. (Click this link to see Shelter, it’s free and it’s amazing).

— When the ladies who took Ann Fry’s “Business Incubator” workshop stood up at dinner to pitch their start-up ideas Shark Tank-style (toothless sharks), the outpouring of ideas, contacts and suggestions from the audience was inspiring to watch.

— When it was announced that Glad Rag Bags, a start-up that was bandied around in a prior toothless WAW Shark Tank, was now a thriving business, it was taken as a group success. (Glad Rag Bags is a limited line of designer handbags created from reclaimed items. The company practices fair trade and donates proceeds to good causes)

— When the writers among us got together, we learned of each other’s new projects. My excited-to-read list has grown to include Amy Ferris’s Dancing at the Shame Prom, and Victoria Zackheim’s Faith, and Dr. Susan R Meyer‘s Fifty Over Fifty: Wise and Wild Women Creating Wonderful Lives

Veronica reads aloud from Going Gypsy at Women at Woodstock

On the final night, a group of us sat down to listen to each other’s written work.

I decided to throw my name in the hat – the first time I would read aloud from Going Gypsy.

It was the first time I’d opened my mouth in front of a group of people without nerves – actually I looked forward to it – no, I was excited. I knew I had a soft place to land if I screwed it up.

That’s the greatest gift my new tribe has given me – and it’s huge.

My hope is that I’ve given back a fraction of this gift.

Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Get your girl on and your goals in motion! Visit the Women at Woodstock website and be sure to sign up for the newsletter while you’re there for info on all future events.

Thanks to Women at Woodstock for inviting me along and providing this nurturing experience! As always, all opinions are my own.

YOUR TURN: Have you ever been to a retreat? Did you have a similar experience? Is Women at Woodstock a type of retreat you’d consider?

How to (and how NOT to) Deal with the Altitude in Peru

I’m a sea-level gal. I don’t do well with high altitude.

At about 5,000 feet above sea level I get sleepy, at 6,000 loopy and at 7,000 I’m out cold – like I’m in a coma.

So when I found out that our trip to Peru would mean being above 11,000 feet, I panicked. We were going to some real bucket list-worthy… CONTINUE READING >>

Coca leaves sit in a basket for the guests of our hotel.

I’m a sea-level gal. I don’t do well with high altitude.

At about 5,000 feet above sea level I get sleepy, at 6,000 loopy and at 7,000 I’m out cold – like I’m in a coma.

So when I found out that our trip to Peru would mean being above 11,000 feet, I panicked. We were going to some real bucket list-worthy places and I didn’t want to miss a thing.

NOTE: I am not a doctor, nor am I giving any advice here. I am simply providing info and letting you know what worked for me. Ask your doctor before trying anything new.

The Peruvian locals swear by the leaves of the coca plant, the plant that produces cocaine, as an antidote to the thin air. They have been chewing the leaves for centuries.

Coca Tea in Peru at Posada del Inca in Yucay — The most common way to serve coca is in a tea. It’s served everywhere.

We had heard about this remedy prior to our trip and were hesitant about trying it. We had read that, when brewed in tea, it has the same amount of boost as a cup of coffee, but I was worried that I would end up addicted, or at the very least, babbling on and on like a self-important idiot.

I’ve seen Charlie Sheen on talk shows and I don’t need any help in the babbling department. I’m a champ at it without any chemical help.

Coca tea was offered to us at a weaving coop in Peru — In the Sacred Valley of the Incas, we were served coca tea during our visit to a weaving cooperative. That’s David in the background to the left, sipping away.

As soon as we arrived in Cusco, I started feeling dizzy and felt my brain was seriously muted. I fell asleep as soon as I sat down on the bus. BAM. Gone.

I slept though the entire ride to our hotel. I decided to override my reservations and took a chance, I tried a little tea.

My head immediately started clearing and instantly no longer felt that sleep was eminent.

Coca candy in Peru — Coca candy is another way to get your coca fix. We’re convinced it and the tea helped.

Pleased with the results, we started making iced tea for to take along for sightseeing, and we’d even taken to chewing the leaves, just like a local! The raw leaves were not tasty, and we learned to soak them first – otherwise the texture was awful.

Other than the head-clearing and staying-awake properties, I felt no weird side effects. Once we caught a plane to Argentina, I didn’t think of coca again. I had no withdrawal symptoms.

General DOs and DON’Ts for high altitude management:

DO
-Stay hydrated. Drink your water. Limit your coffee and Inca Kola intake. Caffeine dehydrates and can make acclimation more difficult.

DO
-Take big, deep, full breaths. Deep breathing increases oxygen in the blood.

Pensive llama at Machu Picchu — A pensive llama at Machu Picchu.

DON’T
-Go crazy with hiking and other strenuous activities. Wait 24 hours and see how you feel. Machu Picchu will still be there.

DON’T
-Drink a lot of alcohol. Booze dehydrates. The air is dry. All that extra breathing dries you out. Why pile on?

MORE OPTIONS:

-Suck on some oxygen. Many hotels offer it to guests upon request. If you want to bring your own oxygen system, be sure to check with your airline before bringing it along.

-Some hotels offer rooms where oxygen is pumped in. These are especially helpful for folks who don’t sleep well in high altitudes.

-There are both prescription and over-the-counter remedies, so if you feel the need for drugs, talk to your doctor.

-At the airport in Cusco we were introduced to another treatment to counteract the high altitude. Since the salesperson at the OxiShot booth was out cold, we opted to pass this option by.

Veronica, GypsyNester.com

YOUR TURN: Did we cover everything? Do you know of anything we missed? Were we helpful? Do you have further questions? Fire away!

Clinging to the Cliffs of the Amalfi Coast of Italy

Italy has a long relationship with the sea, and nowhere is that connection more beautifully on display than the stretch of shoreline along the Sorrentine Peninsula’s Amalfi Coast.

This is the Italy of the international jet set, and after our impressive arrival we almost felt like a part of it…. CONTINUE READING >>

Sailing into the harbor aboard a ship may just be the very best way to see Naples.

Italy has a long relationship with the sea, and nowhere is that connection more beautifully on display than the stretch of shoreline along the Sorrentine Peninsula’s Amalfi Coast.

This is the Italy of the international jet set, and after our impressive arrival we almost felt like a part of it.

But rather than joining them, we watched their mega-yachts circling the Isle of Capri as we made our way on wheels along the cliffs overlooking the bay of Naples.

Before long we turned inland to cross over to the south side of the peninsula, and began our explorations in the seaside village of Positano.

The way Positano clings to the coast is unbelievable. It’s hard to imagine a more unlikely spot for a town, but it makes for sensational views, and some unbelievable road work.

We had to abandon our ride — long before reaching the center of town — so we would be walking, but hey, it’s all downhill from here.

Shops featuring the fine linen that Positano is known for lined the tiny pedestrian street that led down to the water.

Another product the area is famous for, Limoncello, was also prominently featured in many storefronts.

The sweet citrus liqueur is made from the lemons that grow so prevalently throughout the Amalfi coast, and are unique to the area. They even have their own name, Sfusato Amalfitano. Nearly every home has a tree in the garden.

From the bottom of the hill, the view back up was almost as incredible as the one looking down.

The way the buildings are embedded into the steep slope is nothing short of amazing.

So we walked out on to the beach, which is more gravel than sand, for a better gawk up at the hillside.

The sunbathers certainly didn’t seem to mind the size of the stones, we figured it was because everything else about this setting was practically perfect.

The stunning view also reminded us that we would have to walk back up, and that we needed a little fuel for the climb.

Being so close to Naples, we felt we should try a real Neapolitan style pizza.

After all, the city is where the pizza was originated.

A tiny pizzeria’s balcony-with-incredible-view made for a perfect pit stop, even if the pie might not have been the best the region had to offer.

Still it was tasty, priced right, and gave us the strength to manage our ascent.

We were once again precariously perched on The Amalfi Drive, the narrow ribbon of road high above the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Even though we had abandoned ship for the day, we — like so many sailors had in the past — followed the siren’s song toward the city of Sorrento. According to legend, several of the alluring songstresses were said to live on The Sirenusas, a small group of islands just off the coast.

Sorrento, while not quite as dramatic as Positano, is also precariously perched above the sea.

Back on the north side of the peninsula, we were once again overlooking The Bay of Naples, and Mount Vesuvius looming over poor Pompeii.

From the moment we alighted in the center of town, we immediately noticed something totally unexpected, a rather bizzarre statue in the middle of the street.

When we walked up to check it out and read the description we only had one thing to say, “Hello Dalì.”

As we walked around town we kept bumping into more of Salvador Dali’s works, placed on street corners, small parks, and along the sidewalks.

It was as if Sorrento had become one big gallery, which in a way, it had.

The art work was all part of “The Dalì Universe“, an exhibition centered at the Villa Fiorentino, that spread throughout the city.

The idea of fine art in Sorrento has caught on, and we had to agree that it seems like a match made in heaven, but all good things must come to an end, and they had to say, “Goodbye Dalì.”

No problem though, Pablo Picasso is the new star of the show, and is currently being exhibited at Villa Fiorentino.

After walking along the seaside cliffs, we tore ourselves away from the mesmerizing views and worked our way inland again.

Near the old town center we came upon a deep canyon with nearly verticle walls and with what looked to be ancient ruins at the bottom, The Valley of the Mills.

The vecchio mulino, or old mills, were used for grinding wheat, as well as sawing wood, have been in the canyon for well over a thousand years, yet continued in operation up until the 1800s.

Yet another surprise in the surprising city of Sorrento.

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Thanks to Princess Cruises for inviting us along and providing this adventure! As always, all opinions are our own. See our entire Mediterranean voyage aboard the Royal Princess here

See all of our adventures in Italy!

Street Food of Mexico!

We binge ate our way through the Yucatan Peninsula – calorie count not included, for your guilt-free viewing pleasure… CONTINUE READING or enlarge video>>

We binge ate our way through the Yucatan Peninsula – calorie count not included, for your guilt-free viewing pleasure… READ THE ENTIRE STORY >>

David & Veronica, GypsyNester.com

Thanks to the folks at Ensure we felt secure that we could venture into this epicurean episode without risking any nutritional repercussions. They were kind enough to sponsor our video, and provided a supply of their new Ensure Active, which kept us hydrated throughout our escapades. All opinions are our own.

See all of our adventures in Mexico!

Visit our GypsyNester YouTube Channel!

YOUR TURN: Fire away! What looks good and what wouldn’t you eat in a million years (we would never ask that you are as crazy as we are!)?

Sumo Warriors: My Japanese Wrestling Education

Another fun post from our daughter, Charli, AKA The Piglet!

There’s a misconception that sumo wresting is just a couple fat dudes bashing into each other, but there’s actually a lot ritual, a lot of skill, and a lot of training that goes into those fat guys bashing into each other.

Sumo tournaments are held three times a year in Tokyo and I was lucky enough… CONTINUE READING >>

Another fun post from our daughter, Charli, AKA The Piglet!

Hangin' with Sumo wrestlers in Tokyo, Japan! GypsyNester.com

Sumo tournaments are held three times a year in Tokyo and I was lucky enough to be in town during this year’s September matches.

Japan’s national sport is held at Ryogoku Kokugikan where more than 11,000 spectators cheer on (and sometimes get crushed by) their favorite competitors.

Watching Sumo wrestling in Tokyo, Japan!

The fights are much more intense than I ever expected.

The tournament runs from morning until 6pm, with the best fighters at the end, and though each match generally lasts only a minute or less (the best go longer), you’re on the edge of your seat.

Wrestlers are often hurled out of the ring, landing on the judges and fans lucky enough (and brave enough) to occupy the ringside seats.

Sumo wrestling in Tokyo Japan

There’s a lot of ritual at the tournaments too. Wrestlers throw salt to purify spirits, announcers sing out the competitor’s names to begin the match, and wrestlers peacock in the ring lifting their legs high and slapping their muscles.

The minutes in the ring before the match are when wrestlers have a chance to show their personality and intimate their opponent.

Sumo wrestling in Tokyo Japan

Ringside seats are Japanese box style, where you sit on a cushion on the floor; the ticket website warns “There is the danger of suffering injuries due to falls from the ring by wrestlers and other participants.”

Totally worth the risk of crushing in my opinion.

Sumo wrestling in Tokyo Japan

I was up on the second level in the “western style” seats, similar to what is typically found in an American stadium.

While the best seats sell out far in advance, the very top level seats are reserved for the morning of the matches and only sold at the stadium.

Before going, I watched a documentary called A Normal Life. Chronicle of a Sumo Wrestler that follows Takuya Ogushi, a recent high school graduate who enters a sumo stable in Tokyo, through his first year of training and matches.

Sumo wrestling in Tokyo Japan

These modern warriors eat (a lot), sleep, train and play together, forming a bond more like brothers than teammates. I watched as Takuya Ogushi put on 90 pounds and gained respect for the heart it takes to make it as a sumo wrestler.

I strongly recommend you watch before going to get a background on what these athletes do to succeed.

At the match, I rented a radio that feeds English commentary for the two hours of the highest-level matches. Learning about each wrestler’s background, styles and fan bases really adds to the experience.

My favorites were a 21-year-old Mongolian wrestler named Ichinojo who is kicking butt in his first season in the highest bracket. And another named Endo who, while his record isn’t stellar, is apparently quite the ladies man—he draws scores of female fans who love his “sweet exterior,” according to the radio commentator.

Sumo Wrestlers arrive at the match in Tokyo Japan

Woman poses with Somu wrestlers in Tokyo, Japan

Another fun part of the experience is watching the wrestlers arrive at the stadium.

Fans line up along the route from the street to the stadium and are able to get close and root on their favorites.

Watching old ladies losing it over being close to a giant wrestler is pretty great.

And because it wouldn’t be a GypsyNester post without a mention of food, there are a few stadium treats of note. I started off with a box of Takoyaki, aka octopus balls.

Whole wheat batter surrounds minced octopus, pickled ginger and cabbage and the balls are covered in mayo and spicy sauce.

Next, I’d suggest a bowl of tasty chankonabe or sumo wrestler stew, which is a protein-heavy soup eaten by competitors in huge quantities to bulk up. Finally, I fulfilled my sumo-sized meal with a tasty green tea ice cream cone.

If you’re planning a trip to Tokyo, don’t miss this truly Japanese experience.

And be sure to let us know if you are lucky enough to get crushed!

Charli

Have any questions for me? You can email me, or tweet me at @charli and follow my travels too!

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