Simien Mountains, Ethiopia

I had no idea.

Throwing caution to the wind, I booked a four day/three night trekking tour to the Simien Mountains, since everyone was doing it. Didn’t even know it was a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Never even saw a picture of it. And on the first day of our hike, we hardly saw any of it underneath the clouds or the heavy rain that came through the evening. The temperature dropped to near-freezing and I froze too, wondering what the heck I got myself into.

Then as Florence and Rosie (my fellow trekkers) and I were led by our guide Dawit the next morning to a little viewpoint a few hundred metres from our lodge in Sankaber, it was all clear to me.
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 Gondar, Ethiopia

“Well, this is my explanation, straight from Ethiopia. N-E-G-U-S. Definition: royalty. King, royalty.”

Kendrick Lamar’s got the accurate translation of the Amharic word for emperor (the song’s the album version of “i”, by the way), and nowhere is this more evident than in Gondar, a former capital of Ethiopia under the emperors Fasilidas, his son Yohannes, grandson Iyasu, and further descendants who murdered each other for power. In the Royal Enclosure lies ruins of palaces once extravagant but now plundered or destroyed in war.
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 Bahir Dar, Ethiopia

The bus ride from Addis to Bahir Dar felt like going through different countries. Out of the hustle and bustle of the city, we passed through green pastures and farmland, zigzagged up and down some mountain switchbacks and canyons, and passed through tons of little villages. And in between it all, there’s a lot of walking. Children walking through some hills or along the road to and from school. Women walking way out to and from a group congregated around a well, while carrying buckets or jugs. Farmers herding their animals along the road. It’s peaceful out there.
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 Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

“ULULULULULULULULU!”

Well, that’s a way to land. You know how in some countries, when your plane lands, people applaud? (If you didn’t, you do now.) I fell asleep on my late night flight into Addis (despite boisterous passengers literally leaning over and on me to loudly chat the entire flight), and was woken up by a thudding landing, applause, and well…rapturous ululation.

I woke up the next morning to examine my surroundings, having arrived in darkness. This is not your “stereotypical Africa” — but really, what is that supposed to mean?
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 Doha, Qatar

Time for another extended trip! But before I even get there…

I’ve never been a big fan of the big metropolises on the Arabian Peninsula — absurd levels of riches and consumerism, dearth of affordable activities, few remnants of local culture — and going to Dubai certainly didn’t change my mind. That being said, I purposely made a two-day connection (en route to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia) in Doha to visit my friend Koji. First Singapore, then Boston, and now Doha!
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 Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia

The first thing that comes to mind when I think of Cape Breton is the Cabot Trail. What I totally didn’t realise was that the Cabot Trail runs through the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, and that there was anything other than a scenic drive. I also had no idea that the whole scenic drive could be done in maybe three hours — but there’s plenty to keep you around for far longer, as I realised — and after Newfoundland, that’s a pretty short drive!
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 Great Northern Peninsula, Newfoundland and Labrador

Canada can easily be summed up as “vast”: giant spaces with people scattered across long distances. Having spent the majority of my life in Canada’s big cities, however, has masked this reality to me. On the other hand, renting a car and driving across Newfoundland has now redefined the meaning of what a “long drive” is: hundreds of kilometres where you’re lucky to even find a gas station or restaurant within an hour’s distance.
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 Fogo and Change Islands, Newfoundland and Labrador

After the cod moratorium decimated Newfoundland’s primary industry, people left. Many went off to the oil patch out west in Canada, while many stayed in Newfoundland but left behind the outports — isolated fishing communities — they grew up in.

In a time like this, it’s heartening to see some outport communities thriving in new ways. Fogo Island gets all the attention and most of the tourists, due to favourite daughter Zita Cobb (a multibillionaire tech executive) throwing in a ton of money into creating a luxury hotel (which I admittedly find ugly) and some other architecturally daring buildings scattered around remote locations on the already-remote island, inviting artists from around the world to take up residency — I managed to visit one by fortune, with German black-and-white-watercolour artist Silke Otto-Knapp opening the door allowing us a view into her beautiful, though somewhat impractical, studio where she was working on several new pieces. The island’s many towns have managed to stave off federally-imposed forced relocation, and have successfully attracted international attention and visitors that shore up plenty of jobs for locals.

On a completely different note, Fogo Island is also believed to be a corner of the Earth by the Flat Earth Society. Okay.

Still… it was the neighbouring island and its sole town of Change Islands that truly captured my heart in the mere two days (minus the daytrip to Fogo) I was there. Far more tranquil and quiet, I got completely lost upon arrival and managed to drive down every single road on the islands. Not that I minded at all! Around every corner or hillcrest was yet another breathtaking scene of coastline and houses and shacks hanging over the edges, and every person I passed by — kids, adults, seniors — gave a friendly wave. But between B&B owner and Ontario-transplant David and his partner, Massachusetts-transplant Carl and his son Adam, and their local friends Basil and Cherry, I received an overwhelmingly immediate warm welcome. Nothing like a lovely dinner, sunset boat ride around the islands, great conversation, a fine view, and some good reading material to while away the evenings!
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 Trinity and Bonavista, Newfoundland and Labrador

I woke up early two consecutive mornings to hike the Skerwink Trail, next to the hostel I was staying at in Trinity East. It’s relatively undemanding, just under two hours long, incredibly scenic…and also incredibly empty, at this time of year. I ran into one single person on the trail, looking absolutely tiny standing on the edge of a cliff. We later ran into each other and hiked the rest of the trail together, picking wild blueberries along the way. Shrouded in the morning mist that first morning, the jagged, rocky coastline, the lightly obscured view of the little town of Trinity, the quickly-hiding stouts (kind of like large weasels), and the complete quiet of an empty trail gave an aura of mystery. The next morning, in full-on sunshine (and again empty), the same scenery looked vast and majestic. Crazy what a little weather does for you.
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