The Backpacking Boomers

Jalapeño, the now almost universally known pepper, is Spanish for “from Xalapa”. Xalapa, pronounced jalapa, is the capital of the state of Veracruz, giving rise to the popular belief that the famous peppers are grown in the surrounding area. They’re not, but the process of pickling and canning the peppers was invented here. However, Xalapa’s newest claim to fame, and what we’ve come to see, is its Museum of Anthropology, which houses 25,000 artefacts showcasing a diverse

Even the rain can’t dampen our enthusiasm upon our arrival in Papantla, Veracruz, one of Mexico’s famed Pueblos Mágicos, or Magical Towns, chosen for their cultural and historical treasures or natural beauty. Seeing La Danza de las Voladores, or the Dance of the Flyers, an ancient Mesoamerican ceremony continued by communities of Totonacs, an indigenous people of Mexico who maintain their culture and language, has long been on our bucket list. Founded in the 13th century by t

For us, Mexico is in some ways like an old friend. It’s one of the countries where, fifty years ago, we first dipped our toes into independent travel, and returning feels comfortable. But our old haunts, such as the Yucatan, are now over-touristed, so it’s on to new horizons. Our choice? The state of Veracruz. Xalapa, the state’s capital city, is only a four-hour drive east of Mexico City. And the state itself is home to diverse cultures and traditions. Six Pueblos Mágicos, o

Istanbul is a dream come true for cat lovers like us. These soulful furry delights are everywhere: lounging like royalty on a park bench, peering down at you from a fence post, snuggling beside you in a local cafe, waiting expectantly at the local butchers, or roaming ancient ruins. All are unperturbed by the chaos of Istanbul, seemingly without a care in the world. Someone had built a shelter out of an old tarp for this mother and her kitten. Photo: Noel Van Raes Nothi

The call to prayer from Istanbul’s Blue Mosque reverberates around Sultanahmet Square, just as it has for more than four hundred years. My mind swirls with heartwarming memories of my last visit here with my husband and daughter in 2004. But upon approaching the mosque, those memories are rudely disrupted by a disturbingly long line of tourists waiting to enter. A local approaches, telling us it’s better first thing in the morning or later in the evening. We heed his advice.