“Happy birthday dear Shilo, happy birthdaaay…toooooo….yooouuuuu.”

I am on top of the world as the familiar song wraps up. Well, okay, on top of Sydney, Australia. At my fingertips are the glistening skyscrapers and the old rock buildings; the high flying opera house and the sprawling, boat-filled harbor she overlooks. I have just climbed up the Sydney Harbor Bridge past zooming traffic and commuter trains, over decades-old pylons, sailboats and ferries, and now stand overlooking one of the most beautiful and thriving cities in the world.  Of course I had my pick of Sydney birthday experiences to choose from- surfer ogling and fish and chips at Manly Beach, a Bach Symphony in the wooden concert hall of the Sydney Opera House, a morning of shopping at the Rocks Market followed by a meal of kangaroo and pavlova, an afternoon with the koalas and meerkats at the Taronga Zoo, or maybe more surfer ogling and ice cream cones at Bondi Beach…

The options are numerous but what can I say? Every place I visit I have the inexplicable urge to get to the highest point, and soon upon arrival I find myself on top of the Space Needle, the ocean-side cliff, the Eiffel Tower, the London Eye, the cathedral’s north bell tower, the roof of my hotel, or wherever I can best fill my eyes of amazing new vistas.  As much as some people are afraid of heights, I am drawn to them, addicted some might say.  So for me the choice is easy, and an afternoon spent crawling and climbing up one of the world’s most famous bridges and the pride of Sydney turns into my best birthday ever.

The final notes of my birthday song float along the warm South Pacific breeze and down across the amazing city, and soon I too descend back to the streets to see what the rest of the day has in store for me…there’s a little party called Mardi Gras I want to check out.

 Best. Birthday. Ever.

You are dancing under the blazing full moon on the island of Ko Pha Ngan, your arms flailing about wildly, your bare feet turning around and around on the white sand, your legs doing things you didn’t know they could. Electronic music stomps it’s way up and down the crescent beach, and the Gulf of Thailand seduces the partiers successfully with its warm, foamy waves. You are surrounded by thousands of travelers from around the world; backpackers, worldrompers, budget tourists, fire-twirlers, old hippies, new hippies, artists, hedonists, jugglers, dancers, musicians, deejays, and wanderers. It is mere minutes until the fireworks show, and many, many, hours until dawn. The night has just begun.

Are you smiling? Scheming how you can get a ticket to Thailand? Already Googling Ko Pha Ngan Full Moon Party? If not, then maybe you shouldn’t go to THE WORLD’S BIGGEST BEACH PARTY.

Or maybe you need to go the most of all.

Celebration is universal; having fun is essential to human happiness. Some of us even make it our priority in life. We have been dancing bare-footed to drum beats around fires for much longer than we have spent our days in pursuit of big-screen TVs or the newest car or diamonds or whatever else we use our money on in place of experience, which is worth more than anything you can order on Amazon.com.

This indisputable truth, that humans need to celebrate, is manifested every month during the full moon as anywhere from three to ten thousand travelers converge on a white sand beach in Southeast Asia, take off their shoes, and straight GET DOWN. Thailand is a dream for travelers, easy and cheap to navigate, with killer cuisine and the chill energy found in Buddhist cultures. American citizens need passports only for stays of less than 30 days, and round trip air tickets from the west coast of the U.S. to Bangkok are about $900-$1000 for March and April travel. The giant music festival takes place at Hat Rin Beach, and accommodation can be found as low as $2 per night (for a beach-side hut with shared bath). There are also plenty of luxury digs for those of you who crave a private pool or outdoor shower. If for some reason you actually plan on sleeping during the Full Moon party, be sure to book your room OUTSIDE of Hat Rin, and take one of the all-night taxis back to your bungalow.

Full Moon parties go off the hook every month, with upcoming summertime dates of February 22, March 21, and a very special festival on April 20. If you can’t make it to Thailand on those dates, no worries: there are also Half Moon and Black (New) Moon celebrations. All the parties are free and stocked with food, drink, and craft vendors. During the rest of your stay you can snorkel, dive, wakeboard, rent a moped, explore natural caves, and swim at pristine beaches all over Ko Pha Ngan and her sister islands of Ko Samui and Ko Tao.

Festivals and celebrations are are part of every culture on the globe, and whether you like all-night dance parties on the beaches of Asia, man-festivals on the dusty plains of Mongolia, or sugary skulls at the Day of the Dead in Mexico, HAVING FUN is the perfect excuse to travel!

So what are you waiting for? Someone to remind you how short life is, to tell you that if you are really really lucky, in the blink of an eye you will be old, wrinkly, and not that into beach dancing? You don’t need ME to clue you in; you’re reading my blog which means YOU have already taken the first step: admitting that you want to travel and have fun and experience everything you possibly can- and you will accept nothing less in your amazing life.

See you on the beach!

Bastille Day in France is often compared to the 4th of July in America. Both festivities summer-fun outdoor holidays littered with explosions, music and patriotic fervor; it is the party of a revolution, and we love to root for the underdog.

However these two revolutions were not blood brothers, although the American Revolution of 1776 definitely inspired the French Revolution a decade later. In the American Revolution, the power was traded from the rich British elite to the rich American elite, whereas the French Revolution saw a transfer of power from the rich French elite to the poor French masses.

The French Revolution was a major upheaval of the status quo in France: churches were burned, statues were beheaded along with their rich owners, and an icon representing ‘FREEDOM’ was installed on the altar of Notre Dame in Paris. Heads rolled. And rolled, and rolled. The American Revolutionaries were absolutely terrified and prayed to their Puritan fathers that this kind of 'Power to the Poor' Revolution did not find its way across the shores and implant in the American psyche.

Today in Paris the echoes of the French Revolution breathe around every corner and through every street; practically the whole city is a symbol of Libérté, Egalité, Fraternité: Freedom, Equality, and Brotherhood.

La Bastille: The Bastille was an infamous prison used for holding political prisoners like Voltaire and the Man in the Iron Mask, and it was stormed on July 14, 1789 to kick start the French Revolution. Today only the outline of the hulking building remains, but you can attend an opera in the new, modern Opéra de la Bastille in its place.

Pont de la Concorde: This bridge across the Seine was built with the ruined stones of the Bastille, so that free people could forever trample the vestiges of tyranny. Trample ‘em like a punk rock kid, then take advantage of the viewing point of this bridg, which is one of the best places in Paris to get your bearings, see many famous landmarks at one time, and watch a fabulous pink sunset.

Palais Royale: This “secret” garden on the Right Bank is a courtyard hidden behind bigger buildings, and this peaceful nook is where the French Revolution began: a man named Camille Desmoulins stirred up the crowd and led a gang of pissed-off everymen to the Bastille, which they promptly stormed.

Place de la Concorde: This massive open space on the west end of the Tuileries Garden is marked by a tall obelisk from the Egyptian Temple of Luxor and was the site of hundreds and hundreds of beheadings during the Revolution by Madame La Guillotine, or the "National Razor" as it was called.

Conciergerie on the Seine River was used to hold prisoners during the French Revolution including Marie Antoinette; the medieval building’s westernmost tower, “The Squealer,” was used for much worse- torture.

Louvre: The world’s most famous art museum started as a squat; the former royal palace was inhabited by homeless artists after the Revolution, and thus the collection began.

Catacombs: This underground ossuary holds the bones of many Revolutionaries, nobles and a mistress of King Louis XVI and stretches for miles under the city of Paris.

Cours de Commerce Saint-Andre: This vine-covered alcove in the Saint-Germain neighborhood holds not only the oldest café in Paris but was also the spot where one Mr. Guillotin practiced his “humanitarian killing machine” on sheep. Once perfected, the machine was named in a feminine form and put into practice, and voilà: La Guillotine was born.

New Zealand probably has the best infrastructure for budget tourism in the world. Backpackers (hostels) are everywhere and range from gigantic downtown party palaces with full bars and big screens to secluded yoga hideaways to converted 19th century prisons to farm stays to surf schools. Most backpackers have the option of a dorm (all female or mixed, four to ten beds) or a private room. Although a few places will offer rooms with ensuite bathrooms, most do not; if you can deal with a restroom down the hall, you will open yourself up to some amazing lodgings at great prices! 

A bed in a ten-room dorm will be about 12-20 NZD (higher in big cities, lower in the countryside) and a private double room with shared bath in a backpacker will be about 25-35 NZD per person. Almost all hostels have internet access and you can book your next night ahead as you travel with easel; there is no need to plan out your whole itinerary unless there is a dated event that you absolutely cannot miss. At backpackers in New Zealand you will also usually find heaps of information, a travel desk, full kitchen, TV lounge, book swap, and fellow travelers full of helpful information. A hostel club card (YHA, VIP, BBH) costs about 40 NZD and will give you a 2-4 NZD discount every night, so club membership can save you money but it will also affect your decision where to stay as you only get the discount at certain backpackers. BBH is the best.

High-end travelers will find plenty of luxury digs including the Chateau Tongariro (world famous in New Zealand) on the North Island and lots of boutique hideaways scattered around the South. Those seeking a mid-range hotels will have the most trouble finding a place to stay as accommodation is fairly scarce in this price range. I highly advise these travelers to go budget; for the price of one night in a dodgy three star hotel room you could stay for a week in a converted farmhouse overlooking the South Pacific with sheep in the backyard and a roaring fireplace, as long as you can share a bathroom. In my mind, this is a no-brainer! For those of you who are worried about roughing it, you can always intersperse backpacker stays with a night here and there in a nice hotel or at least a room with a private bath.

Hikers, campers, and trampers have practically infinite options of where to stay in NZ, and it doesn’t get less expensive than sleeping in a tent! Serious trampers should be well informed with working gear and must register with the NZ Department of Conservation before setting out on any hike.

There is a place on the West Coast of the United States where the surf dream is alive and smoking, where you can walk barefoot to all of your best friends’ houses by the wafting smell of grilled ribs, chill on the front porch swing and sip a cold brew before heading a couple of blocks away to the crashing waves of the Pacific, only stopping for a waffle cone of blueberry cheesecake ice cream along the way.

The place is called Ocean Beach.

Located on the northern edge of San Diego, close to the airport, Sea World, and another planet, Ocean Beach is a counterculture haven you didn’t know existed, glossed over with a millennial sheen so even if you aren’t a sun-kissed surfing god, you can still get your beach culture on in the form of cheeky sidewalk restaurants, locally-owned gift shops bursting with sea treasures, and bars where the only care in the world is whether your beer is full or half-full.

This thriving neo-hippie community is held in place by a long pier that seems as if it was once a sinuous sea snake, staked in place by tall wooden legs so the revelers would have some place to wander. Walk along the sea cliffs here with your dog, lover or headphones and start plotting which big-windowed home overlooking the ocean will someday be yours. Girls with shaggy dresses sell bundles of sage, lost teenagers strum found guitars, and dozens and dozens of black-suited surfers bob along on the baby waves, waiting their turn to carve some glass. Babies play under bright blue and yellow beach umbrellas and sun worshippers lay on red beach towels getting as pink as the polka-dot bikini top they just untied. Signs on telephone poles call not for lost dogs, but lost skateboards, the accompanying picture drawn in colored markers for inspiration.

Visiting San Diego sometime soon? Don’t forget to stop by Ocean Beach, but don’t plan it out too much- this is the perfect spot for a lazy day, or a laid-back life. Sign me up.