Amboseli National Park in Kenya was my first ever safari experience, back in November 2006. Weyn, a fellow volunteer, was planning a solo visit to Amboseli  before heading home and when I got a call over breakfast letting me know that the school where I was volunteering would be closed for the next three days he suggested I join him. I think I thought about it for all of 5 seconds before running into my room to stuff an extra set of clothes into my backpack and grab my, now ancient, Nikon D50.

We arrived at the park a little later than anticipated, but what’s a road trip in Kenya without a flat tire or two? The first thing that struck me about Amboseli was the gorgeous landscape. One thing I love about Kenya is how close I feel to the clouds. On my first day walking around Nairobi (about 5,500 feet/1,660 meters) I noticed this phenomenon but it didn’t strike me as beautiful until I arrived in Amboseli. The shadows cast from the clouds painted beautiful patterns on the vast, yellow savannah. The landscape reminded me instantly of an impressionist painting and I thought it a shame that Van Gogh never had a chance to paint it.

As we drove into the park the clouds parted and dramatically revealed Mt. Kilimanjaro in all her glory. Little did I know that less than three years later I would be standing high on Uhuru Peak, surveying Amboseli from above.

We arrived at our modest camp in time to admire a gorgeous sunset. Once the glow melted away Weyn and I found constellations in the suddenly cloudless night sky using a program he had on his laptop. Yes, Weyn my safari friend brought his laptop to Amboseli for the sole purpose of stargazing! It was an experience like no other – lying on the savannah, gazing at the African sky with a clear Kilimanjaro cut out and listening to the animals just outside the camp. To this day, that was the most romantic non-date I’ve ever been on.

The next morning Tony, our driver and guide, was full of information about the animals we saw and, when there was a lull, he would fill us in on information about the park. Amboseli is a strict park, he explained, because vehicles have to stay on the designated roads. For that reason it’s harder to get close up views of the animals as you must wait for them to come to you. He also told us that in a few months, when the long rains hit, Amboseli would be impossible to visit because the roads would be flooded and impassable.

Tony and Cutter, the cook, observed at breakfast that it would rain – Kenyans can predict the rain by looking at the sky. And not just Kenyan farmers, city dwellers do it, too. The rain came in the early afternoon and we could see it moving across the savannah toward our camp. First the wind picked up, then the dust and finally the rain hit. Weyn and I sat in our tent with the flap open so that we could watch the downpour. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone, leaving in its wake a rainbow that seemed to last the rest of the afternoon and into our next game drive.

It seems that each park in Kenya is known for seeing a specific animal or animas. The Maasai Mara is famous for lions and the wildebeest migration. Lake Nakuru for rhino and flamingos. Amboseli is known for its large population of my favorite African animal: elephants. In fact, that’s all Weyn had to tell me over breakfast to cause me to pack my bag and join him. All vehicles are supposed to be off of the park roads by nightfall at Amboseli but as we were heading back to camp Tony spotted four elephants walking toward us. At my request he stopped the van and we waited for several minutes as they made their ways toward us. The biggest one led the rest in a single file line, slow and steady. Everything was perfectly still save the heavy footfalls of the magnificent animals and they passed  in front of us just as the sun was setting. Magical.

I didn’t see as many animals in Amboseli as I did on trips to Lake Nakuru or Maasai Mara, but the beauty of the park itself made up for that. It was a perfect first safari experience and I returned to Nairobi refreshed and energized and with an understanding of why so many people become safari addicts.

I really hoped that this experience would help me break into the travel journalism industry and maybe it might, just not in the obvious way. The past several weeks it’s all I have been thinking about and working toward. I’ve been writing more, growing my network and have a renewed energy to pursue this dream with everything I have. Even though I didn’t win the contest, My Destination has lit a fire under me and has inspired me to go after the world. I’m convinced that my best travel days are ahead of me and that one day, before too long, I will catch a break and rock the travel journalism community.

Thank you, so much, to everyone who voted for me. Your support, kind words and encouragement have really meant a lot and I am so humbly grateful. I’m a little bit down today (the fact that it’s tax day and I’m self-employed certainly doesn’t help) but I won’t be for long. Three cheers for new mountains to climb, new countries to explore and new stories to tell!

The airport was no more than a dirt path and was located on an island across from Lamu. The hot, wet air hit me square in the face as I stepped off of the small plane. I instantly began to sweat and I could feel my curly hair start to frizz as I walked with my red backpack off of the “runway” toward the water. A pair of dhows, Swahili style sailboats, were waiting for the passengers at the dock to take us to Lamu. Moments after boarding the dhow the sky opened up an began to rain large, fat raindrops. First slowly, hitting the sail of the dhow with dramatic “plop, plop” then faster until, finally, an all out downpour. My fellow travelers and I arrived at the dock on Lamu completely drenched and we sought cover under a thatch roof overhang. It was the kind of rain that makes one feel alive, youthful and full of energy. I don’t know if it was the rain or the fact that I was on an island in Northern Kenya or if it was the child inside of me taking over but I found myself stepping out into the rain, throwing back my head an spinning with joy.

After navigating the narrow, flooded cobblestone streets we finally located our guest house. It was charming and, I would later realize, very Swahili complete with carved Swahili doors, frangipani flowers on the pillows of the ancient canopy beds, crisp white sheets and thatched roofs that rustled with the wind. The already sparse electricity on the island was out completely due to the rain so we dried off best we could and enjoyed a candlelit dinner and drinks at the hotel restaurant. By the time we made our ways back to our rooms the clouds had parted, revealing a sky full of stars and a crescent moon.

Morning came with fresh squeezed mango juice, blue skies and the call to prayer. The four of us set out with Muhammad, or “the Chief” as he is called on Lamu. Muhammad helped us find our guesthouse in the downpour and kindly agreed to show us around the island. Stone Town is so charming and has a timeless feel about it. There are only two motor vehicles on the entire island – one for the dignitary and one is an ambulance for the donkeys. Donkeys are everywhere and serve several purposes from modes of transportation to household pets.

Muhammad was very proud of the number of Swahili doors on the island, as well as the condition in which they were in. Some of the doors were hundreds of years old but the fine craftsmanship of the carving had withstood the sun, rain and wind. These doors are a sign of wealth and prestige. And they are gorgeous.

Muhammad’s tour took us all around Stone Town, starting by the docks and ending on the roof of our guesthouse. The Chief indeed, he demanded respect wherever we went and, though a man of few words, was full of information on Lamu. He recommended a beach for that afternoon, a restaurant for lunch and introduced us to dhow crew that agreed to take us snorkeling the next day.

We took Muhammad’s recommendation for lunch and dined before walking along the shore to the beach that he had recommended. The beach was nice, the waters warm and the sand scalding. We walked along the beach at the shoreline, careful to keep our feet in the lapping waves. We relaxed for the afternoon – chatting, reading, napping, exploring – and denied a ride on a cart back to Stone Town, opting instead to walk along the beach again. I’m a lake girl, I don’t think about tides. But as we were relaxing the tide had moved in and we ended up wading much of the way back. Lesson learned. Still, I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than wading through the Indian Ocean on Lamu.

It’s been nearly seven years since I visited Lamu but the first thing I always think about when I think about that island is the day that we went snorkeling and how amazingly clear the water was. We met the crew of three at the dhow after breakfast and set out, sailing through the crystal waters to a reef about 90 minutes away. While the four of us snorkeled the dhow crew caught a red snapper, prepared it and served it along with coconut rice and grilled vegetables. As I marveled at the reef and all of the tropical fish (again, I’m a lake girl – this was my first real ocean snorkeling experience) I had no idea that my lunch was being prepared onboard. I handed my fins to one of the Muhammad’s, climbed the rope ladder back onto the boat and was shocked to see lunch hot and ready. Since that day, whenever I see red snapper on a menu, I order it in hopes that it will be half as delicious as it was on that dhow in Lamu, but I am constantly disappointed.

We slowly made our way back to Stone Town, the wind no longer in our favor. Muhammad, the bilingual one of the group, came to the bow and told us that before we got off the dhow, we would be given Swahili names. I don’t remember the others, Karen’s was funny, but my Swahili name is Mrembo. When I asked what it meant, Muhammad told me it means “pretty girl.” Mrembo. I liked it. I still do.

I don’t know if I realized it as it was happening but that day on the dhow will forever be remembered as nearly perfect. The fish, the laughter, the company, the beauty – I felt so far away from home but so completely in my element. I think that was the day I fell in love with travel. I’d always liked it, but I had never before experienced the power that travel can hold. It was like taking my first hit of a powerful drug and knowing from that moment that I would forever be addicted. I was young, I was wide-eyed and it took hold of me in a way I never expected it to. Ever since then, I constantly crave that euphoria – that realization of of being so far away, so surrounded by foreign in every sense of the word but so full of joy.

Two Turkish Airline flights later I found myself in a rather familiar situation: waiting in the visa line at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi.   I have this incredible knack for picking the slowest moving line and this morning was no exception.  I smiled to myself, for it was the exact same passport control officer I’d been stuck with on my last trip: slow and full of meaningless conversation.  He took his time as he looked over each passport, carefully scrutinizing one terrible government portrait after another, never failing to find something interesting to say.

“Winta,” he lazily gazed at me over the counter, “I like your name.”

“Do you?  Thank you.”

“It’s funny because it’s a season!” he was chuckling now, as he wrote out my name on my visa sticker.  “Winta.  W-I-N-T-E-R.  Ha, I need to make certain to spell it correct.  Wiiintaa.  I see many, many crazy names.  Especially Japanese names.  Very hard names to spell.  But this one, me, I like it.  Wiiintaaa.”

“That’s me!”  I resisted the urge to throw out a “that’s my name, don’t wear it out” ala 1989, but quickly concluded that it would be unwise to encourage this gentleman who was currently in possession of my passport.

“Wiiintaaa.  Jennifa Lee Wiiintaaa.  How long you stay with me in Kenya?” His lazy eyes looked up at me again, coupled with a coy grin.

“I’m staying with my friend, Irene, for just over two weeks.  16 days.”

“Jennifa Winta,” he pouted, “why you not stay with me?”  Things that irritate me include but are not limited to: grown men attempting a sad puppy faces.

I glanced at the long line of international businessmen tapping their feet and checking their BlackBerry’s in frustration behind me.  “Whenever I come to Kenya I stay with Irene,” I smiled, “her address is on my visa form,” I tried to bring him back to the task at hand.

“Ah, this is not your first time in Kenya!”  Oh, no.  “How many other times in Kenya.  How do you find it?”

“This is my third time in Kenya.  I find it very nice.”  Please, oh please, just pound down with that official rubber stamp so I can get out of here!

“You come for safari?  You see big 5? Haha, tourists all want to see big 5!”  He emphasized this by holding up five fingers – three on his left hand and two on his right. 

“Yes, I’ve seen the big 5.  But no time for safari on this trip.

“Umhmm.  16 days.  Wiiintaaa, that is too bad.  Even me, I wish you would stay longer.”  He sighed.

Stamp!  Sign!  Slap!

I quickly grabbed my passport from the counter and began to walk toward the exit before he could think of anything else to say.  “Thank you.  Asante sana!”  I waved and called behind me.

“Karibu Kenya, Jennifaaa Wintaaa!”  He turned his attention to the next gentleman in line.  “That one, her name Winta.  It’s a very nice name!”

Please see also: Jenn(y)

Originally published 2011 on this blog.

I picked up these coral tulips from Trader Joe’s on Tuesday. Whenever I walk into my apartment I am hit with the smell of spring, pause and smile. I try to hold on to that smell as I unzip my puffy coat and take off my hat and gloves.

While I was shooting the tulips in the window, someone got a little jealous. She started on the far side of the couch and slowly army crawled into the middle of the shot. If I were that photogenic I’d try to jump in front of cameras, too!

Orchids are my absolute favorite flower for several reasons. Despite what people think, they’re really easy to take care of and very low maintenance, they are elegant and graceful and they are the plant that keeps on giving. You just need to have a little patience! This orchid was a birthday gift from my Dad over a year ago. The original blooms stayed on from January to May, then I trimmed the stalk to the base and had a leafy plant until around November when a new stalk began to grow. Now I have five lovely, new white blooms!

I’ve placed this orchid in the skinny, tall window by my bed area in my studio apartment. It’s the first thing I see most mornings – what a great site to wake up to!

Again, Essie couldn’t help herself.And, finally, this little guy. This mini-orchid was a gift from my neighbor about this time last year and it grew new blooms about six weeks ago. And look at all of those buds! That is going to be one crowded stalk when they all bloom!

This week I’m scuba diving in a  Cenote Cave in Mexico! I’m here for several reason:

1. Today is World Water Day and so today is about water! 
2. My sister, Beanie, and I got our PADI certification (a Bucket List item in and of itself) over a year ago and haven’t been able to use it since! This is frustrating, I’ve been longing to go back under the surface and do a little underwater exploration.
3. While Beanie and I have both jumped into Cenote pools from above ground in Mexico we, more or less, missed an opportunity to actually dive in one. When my family was in Mexico last January I really wanted to do this but it was the last day of vacation and my dive buddy and I decided to dive at a local reef instead, in order to be with the rest of the family. WHY!!! I love my family and it was a fun day, but WHY didn’t I speak up more? I really wanted to do this and now I see pictures of it and get so mad at myself! I mean, I was RIGHT THERE!
4. But it’s not too late! Help me get to Cenote and vote for me to win the Biggest Baddest Bucket List! Only 10 more days to vote, please cast yours!

The rest of the collection can be viewed here.

Do you like my photos? Want to see more? Please help me win the Biggest Baddest Bucket List contest and send me on a photographic safari around the world! There are SO many places that I’m dying to explore with my camera and I’ve got 11 days left to try to collect enough votes to make it possible! If you cast your vote let me know, I’d be happy to link your blog as a thank you!