Traveling - Moxie Gardiner

The Special Joys of Sisterhood Weekends

There never seemed enough time at family gatherings for the three of us to have the “chick-chats” we had once dearly loved.

Growing up, I had the remarkable experience of being the eldest of eight children. The four that followed me in sequence were all brothers, and for nearly half of my childhood, I was the lone female child in a house full of testosterone.

*Home for the holidays in Buffalo, where the dream of “sisterhood weekends” was born.*

You can imagine then, why I was so elated when I learned that child number six was a girl, as was child number seven. The age gap between me and them proved to be a bonus, as we bypassed the usual sibling rivalries. When I started dating boys, for example, they were still playing with dolls and stuffed animals.

Despite the age difference, with ten of us living in a small house, we three sisters shared a bedroom for many years. I loved to read the girls stories, play the latest hits on the transistor radio, teach them new dance steps, and watch them watch me while I put on makeup. I like to think that I was a role model of sorts, or at least, that they got a sense of what life might be like when they reached my ripe old age.

*Florida in winter was a favorite destination.*

I left home at 18 for college and never returned (everyone in the family was kind of relieved; they had more elbow room, not to mention more time in the only bathroom). And although I missed everyone in the family, I especially missed my two little sisters. It was an ache that would stay with me long after I was married and had a family of my own.

The strong bonds that form among sisters are legendary, of course. The stuff of great songs, movies, and literature—everything from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, to “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge. Like others, our shared history led us three to form relationships that are complex, empathetic, and sometimes emotionally charged. But I always knew that when things went awry, my sisters would always be the first ones there for me.

*Sharing street food in Central Park, NYC.*

So one day, back in the early 1990s, when all three of us were back home for the holidays, we started talking about getting together more frequently, outside of the larger family gatherings. By that time we had husbands, and jobs, and children, and lived in three different cities. There never seemed enough time at family gatherings for the three of us to have the “chick-chats” we had once dearly loved. We agreed that we would try to carve out a long weekend, at least once a year, for just the three of us to be together again.

*In the Gulf of Mexico listening to a marine biologist.*

And so over the years, we’ve traveled to many different places—New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Washington DC, Miami, Hilton Head, and Savannah, to name a few. Florida was often a destination in the winter months, and places like Toronto and Niagara-on-the-Lake, when it was warm.

We went on yoga retreats and luxuriated in spas. We played instruments in a music video (“Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”) at Disneyworld’s Pleasure Island, pretending to be an all-girl rock band. At the Atlantis resort in the Bahamas, we went up the Mayan Temple to the “Leap of Faith,” a 60-foot water slide with a terrifying drop through a shark-infested lagoon. We took a less terrifying boat ride in the Gulf of Mexico with a marine biologist, who taught us what life was really like beneath the waves.

*Sometimes, when our children were infants, they got to come along.*

Although the destinations were interesting and the adventures were fun, it was the late-night talks that made these experiences memorable. Although we three are very different people having led very diverse lives, when we come together we are like children again, sharing things we aren’t willing to share with anyone else. That level of trust only comes after years of openness, honesty, and emotional support.

*Thirty-five years later we still get together, this year at the Mohonk Nature Preserve in New York.*

All three of us keep a box full of photos that memorialize our many sisterhood weekends, because they have meant so much to us. Some have said that love among sisters is the “greatest love of all” because of its emotional depth. So ladies, if you have a sister, hold her close and spend as much time with her as you can. These rare moments of togetherness are priceless, and worth whatever effort it takes to make them happen.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates, grows tomatoes, and enjoys a good online Zumba routine at home on winter evenings. Virgin Snow is her first novel, and she is currently working on Book Two in the trilogy.

Reliving Our European Dream—in Buffalo, New York?

Where would you rather spend the month of August? In Europe or Buffalo?

*A sidewalk cafe and bookstore in Elmwood Village.*

For much of my adult life, I dreamed of living in Europe—the land of fairy tale castles, good wines, and unhealthy pastries. In 2009, the dream became a reality.

That year I had the unexpected good fortune to be selected for a job in Brussels, the cosmopolitan capital of Belgium as well as headquarters of NATO and the European Union. For three years, my husband and I lived in an apartment in the heart of the city, within walking distance of museums, monuments, cafes, open-air markets, and across from a beautiful park where I could walk my dog, people-watch and get an ice cream cone for my troubles. On weekends we would take the time to savor everything that is wonderful about living in a European city, from early-morning cappuccinos and buttery croissants, to an endless choice of dining options and evening strolls around an urban lake.

*European apartment buildings have lovely flower boxes.*

The only problem: the assignment was over in three years. Knowing up-front that our European idyll was to be short-lived, we made the most of every day. We left in 2012 with plenty of wonderful memories, a vow to return to Europe, and a hope to perhaps live there again someday.

Fast forward to January 2025, and our planning session for the year ahead. Having retired in the relative isolation of rural West Virginia, we considered going back to Europe to reclaim the lifestyle we enjoyed there, but remembered the nightmare of the last time we traveled overseas. We, along with a thousand other unhappy folks, waited for hours to clear Belgian passport control, came down with a nasty bug a couple days later, and spent the rest of the trip in bed. My husband, lucky fellow, who was returning a day ahead of me, had his flight cancelled at boarding, and got to enjoy a second long wait at customs. The trauma lingered, obviously, but so did our desire for city living. What to do? Rent an apartment in Buffalo instead!

Buffalo vs Brussels??

How can the two compare, you might wonder. Well, if you’re not from Buffalo that’s understandable, but Buffalo today is a different town than the one known primarily for snow and wings. Zillow named Buffalo the hottest real estate market in the US for 2025, and one of its fastest growing neighborhoods, lying right in the center of the city, is called Elmwood Village.

I had heard that this area had been transformed since I went to college nearby, so I decided to rent an upstairs apartment smack in the heart of the Village with a front porch overlooking the neighborhood. At the beginning of August I settled in, and looked forward to spending the rest of that lovely summer month exploring what was new in the city of my birth.

The first thing that struck me was how similar the experience was to the one we had in Brussels. Within walking distance of the apartment were restaurants for every taste and budget, from upscale to take-out—many with tables and chairs for dining al fresco (Buffalonians, like Europeans, make the most of nice weather). In less than 10 minutes, I could walk to a bank, the food co-op, a pet store, a bookstore, several cafes with great coffee, a bakery and an ice cream shop. Every Saturday morning was a walk to the farmers’ market two blocks away, to buy flowers for the week and fresh vegetables. (The only difference was the market in Brussels had an outdoor oyster and champagne bar, open for breakfast).

In less than 20 minutes, I could walk to elegant Delaware Park. Designed by renowned architect Frederick Law Olmsted in the late 1800s, and much like his Central Park in New York City, Delaware Park is the living, breathing heart of Buffalo proper. In the course of an evening walk, I watched a performance of Shakespeare in the Park, couples have wedding pictures taken by the lovely rose garden, stopped by several food truck vendors, and watched young people playing everything from corn hole to bongo drums.

In the middle of the park lies beautiful Hoyt Lake, surrounded by weeping willows and boat rental houses. Across the street from the park is the AKG art museum with its world famous masterpieces. (Why wait in endless lines at the Louvre?) On the other side of the lake is the Buffalo History Museum, a neoclassical structure reminiscent of the Greek Parthenon, and a remnant of the 1900 Pan-American Exposition which Buffalo hosted.

*Beautiful landscaped mansions line Buffalo’s parkways.*

And to my great delight, all over Elmwood Village (and indeed most of Buffalo) are amazing flower gardens. Every home along the beautiful Olmsted-designed parkways are gorgeously landscaped, and even some of the smaller homes fill their limited space with exuberant plantings. My husband always loved the window boxes in Europe filled with flowers. The apartment buildings in Elmwood Village have those too. Within a month, I felt like I had a European living experience all over again.

*One of Elmwood Village’s lovely flower gardens.*

Once of the nicest things? Thanks to “earth-friendly” decomposable dog poop bags and bins, every park and parkway is remarkably free of those smelly little piles, despite the fact that this is a very dog-friendly neighborhood. Buffalo’s definitely got Europe beat when it comes to dealing with pup-poop – the sidewalks and walking paths of Paris and Brussels were sometimes virtual minefields.

*My favorite *allée*, in the Parc du Cinquantenaire in Brussels.*

I’m sure I’ll return to Europe, maybe even soon, but in the meantime I’m happy to know that I can enjoy a “European experience” in Buffalo, just a few hours’ drive away. Where would you rather spend the month of August? In Europe or Buffalo? Please share your views in the comments below!

Why Chautauqua is the Summer Camp that Soothes the Soul

The people who visit the Chautauqua Institution are there to seek solace, and turn their minds away from a troubled world.

Although I grew up in Buffalo, I was only vaguely familiar with the Chautauqua Institution and the world- renowned summer gathering that happens less than 90 minutes south of my hometown. Until recently that is. Now that I have gone to “CHQ” as it’s known, for two years in a row, I think I may be hooked forever.

*Lewis Miller, one of the early founders of the Chautauqua Movement and father-in-law of Thomas Edison, built this cottage as the family’s summer residence.* (All photos © Moxie Gardiner)

The Chautauqua Institution celebrated its 150th birthday last year, an idea born of necessity. Three similar American institutions—the camp meeting, the Lyceum, and the American Sunday School—had all declined in popularity by the start of the Civil War. Archivist and historian Jon Schmitz argues that after that terrible conflict had ended, many were searching for ways to cobble the country back together, and the Chautauqua Movement was born. Chautauqua, he says, was “a growing country’s admission of its need for education, culture, and moral improvement. In other words, it was a perfect American expression of what America wasn’t.”[1]

*Authors’ Hour is a popular part of the writing program at CHQ.*

Over the years, CHQ went through many evolutions, and at times was on the brink of collapse, particularly after the stock market crash of 1929. But donors who believed in its mission raised enough money for the Institution to survive. Today CHQ is thriving, offering a slate of recreational activities, cultural events, lectures, classes, and celebrity speakers to over 100,000 visitors during its summer program.

Last year I came for a day to do an Authors’ Hour reading. This year I stayed a week, primarily to attend a writer’s workshop, but learned while I was on campus, that CHQ offered many other things of interest to me. I went on nature tours with the Bird, Tree and Garden Club and visited a number of the 119 named gardens on the grounds. I toured several historical sights and took a ride on the steamboat, The Chautauqua Belle. I swam in Chautauqua Lake, went “forest bathing,” and listened to symphonies from the privacy of my hotel balcony.

*There are a number of rain gardens on the Chautauqua grounds. A naturalist explains their purpose to our group.*

I talked to a number of other visitors and learned that they came back year after year, and for many different reasons. Some liked the focus on religion and theology. Others liked to discuss contemporary issues. My sister, a writer who is currently focused on historical places in Western New York, came to investigate its well preserved buildings and its archives.

*The Chautauqua Belle is an authentic steam wheeler, one of five left in the US.*

As one of the early founders, Methodist Minister John Vincent understood, “It is one thing to attract people by offering them what they want, but Chautauqua keeps people coming back because it gives them what they need.[2] I wasn’t sure I understood what that meant until I fully immersed myself in the Chautauqua experience. What I learned is that with time, opportunity, and the encouragement of others, I was able to give my creativity and intellectual curiosity free reign. I was always on the go and learned a great deal, but at the same time, oddly enough, I was at peace.

*George Saunders, far left, best-selling author of* Lincoln at the Bardo, *answers questions about an opera based on his book.*

With few exceptions, the people who visit the Chautauqua Institution are there to seek solace, and turn their minds away from a troubled world. If Chautauqua was created to heal the wounds of war and the divide that existed among Americans at that time, then perhaps, more than ever, it is the kind of place we Americans really need today.

There is great value in slowing down and thinking deeply, in having conversations with a diverse set of people, and in learning new things at every age. I think we need more summer camps like this in our country.

Do you? Please share your thoughts in the comment section below.

*The Chautauqua Osprey, created completely from recycled plastics, is a symbol of Chautauqua’s commitment to a healthy environment.*

[1] From the booklet, CHAUTAUQUAWhat? A Short History of a Place and an Idea, page 3, by Jon Schmitz. Published in 2024 for the Institution’s 150^th anniversary.

[2] Same booklet. Page 20.

For more information on the Chautauqua Institutions see https://www.chq.org/.

After Fifty Years, a Different Vietnam

*Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon, fifty years after reunification. (All photos are copyright Moxie Gardiner.)*

When I was developing the character of Joey, a despondent Army veteran for my novel Virgin Snow, I found it necessary to research and reflect upon the sad time in American history when we were engaged in a war with North Vietnam. The conflict had long-term and debilitating effects on many American military members who served there in support of South Vietnam in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and a devastating impact on what would eventually become the unified nation of Vietnam.

I remember the scenes of the chaotic US withdrawal from Vietnam in 1975, with helicopters landing on rooftops, trying to extricate as many remaining Americans and South Vietnamese allies from Saigon as possible. Back then, newspaper articles and nightly TV broadcasts told us the story of how the war ended, but not what happened next.

In the process of trying to capture the effect of the war on my novel’s character, I grew more curious about this aspect of the historical record: how had the country of Vietnam fared over the past five decades? I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to travel to this part of the world recently to see for myself how things had progressed.

*Motorbikes now crowd the streets of Vietnam’s cities.*

It became quite obvious within hours of our arrival that tourism is now a major contributor to the Vietnamese economy, at least in the big cities. Hotels and restaurants are filled with tourists, and buses and taxis jockey with endless swarms of motorbikes for space on the highways. It’s difficult to navigate Hanoi’s city streets on foot because sidewalks are jammed with parked scooters, street food sellers, and bewildered-looking tourists trying to read maps in a language they cannot decipher. Crossing the street was perilous, and we were advised to venture forward “like sticky rice,” that is, all in one big clump. We had the chance to visit important cultural sites like the Temple of Literature in Hanoi, beautiful Ha Long Bay, and the Independence Palace in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), but thanks to our fellow tourists, the lines and the wait could be long.

*Mysterious Ha Long Bay is one of the many places of natural beauty in Vietnam attracting tourists.*

A friend and I landed in Hanoi in mid-February buffeted about by winds. Our views of the sprawling city, once the target of American B-52 bombers, were obscured by drizzling rain. Once on the streets, our driver was surrounded by thousands of motorbikes snaking through traffic as we crawled toward our hotel, and as we looked about, we saw a curious blend of structures both ancient and modern, including hallmarks of colonialism (French), communism and, these days, capitalism. Perhaps the most amusing sight was the motorbikes equipped with little umbrellas, intended solely to shield mobile phones from the sometimes scorching sun.

*Vietnamese Airlines was clean, friendly and efficient.*

Tourism is not the only sign of prosperity in this country of nearly 100 million people. I asked our tour guide (“Just call me V”) what he considered to be the most important changes in Vietnam over the past 50 years, and the first thing “V” mentioned was the government’s decision in 1986 to move from a centrally planned economy to a market-based one. The economic reforms that resulted from that decision led to rapid growth, urbanization and infrastructure development which continues to this day, making Vietnam one of the fastest growing economies in the world. (Just check the label on an item of clothing you recently purchased, and you’ll see what I mean.)

Separate and apart from the statistics, there is a vitality here that is infectious. Nearly half of the Vietnamese population is under the age of 25, and young people dominate the streets of the big cities. American and European brand names are ubiquitous, as are coffee shops and electronics stores. Vietnam is now a major coffee producer, and the coffee shops have gotten creative in developing distinctive flavors for their young clients. My favorite was “salty cream coffee,” but the coconut and egg coffees were pretty good too.

Nothing surprised me more, however, than how warm and welcoming the Vietnamese people were to us Americans. Much has been done in the past fifty years to heal the wounds of the conflict that killed or maimed so many on both sides. Programs to find and repatriate the remains of our missing soldiers and airmen, to support orphanages for the descendants of Vietnamese soldiers and citizens, and to detect and remove the land mines and unexploded bombs that dotted the landscape, have gone a long way towards improving relations between our countries, as have the visits of a number of US Presidents after the conclusion of hostilities.

*Everywhere we went we were greeted by smiles.*

As I wrap up my trip here, I cannot help but leave impressed, not only by the cultural and physical beauty of Vietnam, but also by the spiritual beauty of the Vietnamese people. While the Vietnamese still remember and honor the sacrifices made by their ancestors during the many conflicts that led to their independence, they have been able to move on and establish healthy relationships with former enemies. Forgiveness is an important element of Buddhist philosophy, and although Buddhism is not an official religion in Vietnam, its teachings are practiced by many.

*Grotto with Buddha shrine on Marble Mountain.*

These practitioners believe that letting go of the past is a way to end suffering, and to bring peace and harmony into one’s life. If more people would practice this philosophy, I believe the world would be a far better place. How about you? Please leave your thoughts in the comment section below.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. Virgin Snow is the first novel in what she hopes will be a trilogy. She is currently working on Book Two.

What is More Precious than a Lifelong Friend?

I was overlooking an essential ingredient in a long and happy life—the love and support of friends.

*What a joy to reconnect with friends from elementary school!*

Last January 1st, when I realized that I would (if lucky) complete my seventh decade of life this year, I began to contemplate, as many who have reached this ripe old age are wont do, what it has all meant. Considering the arc of one’s own life is not an easy task, so I decided to reflect first on those things that are and have been most important to me, to try to determine if I have developed the right values and led a worthy life.

I have had the great good fortune to have the world’s best husband and two loving sons and a daughter-in-law. I have a large and fun-loving extended family and several doting pets. I was given a number of amazing career opportunities, have traveled the world, and am in relatively good health. At this stage of my life, I am very much in tune with the natural world and enjoy the harmonies of the stars, the seas, and the four seasons. All of these things have been important to me, and have contributed to my longevity. But I realized, as I thought long and hard about it, that I was overlooking an essential ingredient in a long and happy life—the love and support of friends.

*My college friends and I found this mountain retreat a far cry from our Buffalo State dormitory!*

I have to admit—I haven’t always been the best of friends. There were years when I was so focused on being a good daughter, sister, wife, and mother, on my career, my community, and social obligations, I neglected my friendships. Sure, I’d send a yearly birthday or Christmas card, and catch up via an occasional lunch or dinner. But as I grew older, I learned that there were pivotal events in the lives of my friends that I had completely missed. Thinking about it now makes me very sad.

So, when making my New Year’s Resolutions for 2024, I resolved to make it “The Year of Reconnecting With Old Friends.”

*What better place to celebrate a milestone birthday than Italy with a limoncello spritz!*

I made a lifelong friend on the first day of kindergarten. We were four years old. As our mothers walked us to school, they said, “You girls hold hands,” and metaphorically speaking, over all these years, we’ve never let go. This year, I asked my first “BFF” as they say today, if she would like to travel to Italy to celebrate our 70th birthdays together. She said yes, and on the day we were making our way through a crushing crowd of thousands at St. Peter’s Square in Rome, we locked arms so we wouldn’t get separated. Oh, how it brought me right back to that fall day, 65 years ago.

*Visiting a Monet art exhibit with my artist friend.*

Another friend, whom I met as a teenager, once begged her family to let me live with them at a particularly difficult time in my life. They welcomed me in and I never forgot their kindness, or hers. I invited her to come stay with me the week before our mutual birthdays this year, and treated her to all the things I knew she enjoyed in life—art, nature, good food. We sat on my porch and reminisced, and I was pleasantly surprised by the things she remembered that I had forgotten.

*Trip to the Big Apple with a friend from the Bronx.*

And that, I realized, is the very best thing about reconnecting with old friends. They help fill in the blanks of your personal narrative, your life’s story. Your friends are the people who knew you from the time you were silly, stupid and immature until you grew older and (somewhat) wiser. These are friends who made me laugh until I cried, and at times, cried with me until I laughed. I am fortunate to still have friends from every stage of my life—schoolmates, neighbors, work colleagues, and fellow writers, readers, and travelers. They are the ones who show up to celebrate my successes, and grieve with me my losses. In some ways, they are the people who know me better than I know myself.

*Cruising the Danube with one of my favorite traveling buddies.*

This year I honored these friendships in every way I could think of, from group lunches to reunion picnics, book club gatherings, mountain retreats, and trips abroad. And in each case my old friends embraced me with open arms, rekindling connections that are more priceless to me than any birthday gift I could possibly imagine.

*Nothing like reconnecting with a friend who knows how to bake a cake like this!*

Yesterday, my yoga instructor asked us to think about, “Who you really are. Get rid of the traditional labels and think about the real you. And if you are not now the real you, think of who you want the real you to be.”

I’ve thought about that a lot since she said it. I know now who I want to be, and I hope I’ve earned the right to be called “a true friend.” If I indeed merit that sobriquet, then I know I have lived a worthy life.

Do you have a lifelong friend or friends? What have they meant to you and how have they shaped your life? Have you made it a priority to reconnect with them? I look forward to hearing your thoughts in the comments below.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. Virgin Snow is the first novel in what she hopes will be a trilogy. She is currently working on Book Two.

The Tragedy and the Beauty of Eastern Europe

A trip through Eastern Europe reminds us of how lucky we Americans really are.

*Beautiful Budapest, Hungary at night. All photos copyright* *Moxie Gardiner.*

I have just returned from a river cruise through five countries in Eastern Europe: Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria and Romania. Admittedly, these countries are probably not the destinations of most Americans traveling to Europe. Of those who do choose to sail the beautiful Danube River, most probably head northwest from Budapest to enjoy seeing the castles and vineyards of southern Germany, and the strudels and waltzes of Austria, which are familiar to many people through popular music and culture. Think The Sound of Music movie, and Strauss’ The Blue Danube Waltz. I decided to go in the opposite direction.

*Nana hosting us for lunch in her pretty*
*Croatian home.*

I confess that up until recently, I had been guilty of the temptation to see popular places. I’ve traveled extensively through Western Europe, where I am familiar with the languages and the culture of the European Union. EU countries have made it easy to cross borders and most are members of the Eurozone, using a single monetary unit—the euro.

Not so in Eastern Europe, where only one of the five countries I visited (Croatia) is a Eurozone member that uses the euro in its financial transactions. The other four still use the same currency[1] they have been using for well over a century (although most merchants are happy to take your American dollars or euros). Each country we visited has its own language and two (Serbia and Bulgaria) even use a different alphabet (Cyrillic), making it a challenge to read a street sign or a map.

*We were quite surprised when the Crown Prince and Princess of Serbia came out to greet us.*

I realize now, however, that overlooking these countries in the past was a mistake. First, they have a long and fascinating history. Our traveling group toured several archeological sites, and learned about the various cultures that were thriving along the Danube many thousands of years ago, some predating the building of the pyramids in Egypt. Because of their strategic location, these countries were fought over many times, and became part of several empires–the Roman, Austro-Hungarian, Ottoman, and Russian– all of which which influenced their cultures.

*Belogradchik Rocks in Bulgaria, with the Balkan Mountains in the distance.*

Second, Europe’s East is as beautiful as any other region I have seen on that continent—topographically diverse, and gifted with both fertile soil and scenic landscapes. From the snow-capped mountains of Romania to the golden sands of Bulgaria’s Black Sea beaches, Eastern Europe has a lot to offer. As our ship glided down the Danube, we passed by modern cities, small picturesque towns, wooded hillsides, and spectacular gorges.

*Bucharest, Romania is* *now a vibrant, modern city.*

Third, the capital cities we visited—Budapest, Belgrade, and Bucharest—seem to be thriving. One guide in Bucharest told me unemployment is less than one percent, and they are eager for young Romanians, who have moved away to work in other European countries, to return now that there is so much more opportunity back home.

Everyone we met on our journey was warm and friendly, from the royal family in Serbia to the kindly Croatian woman who hosted lunch for a small group of us in her village home.

*Buildings on the streets of Vukovar, Croatia still show remnants of the shelling during the “homeland war.”*

Yet for all the positives one can list about this part of Europe, it is impossible to ignore the scars of more than a century of conflict, foreign occupation, and the crippling effects of a communist economic system. In each country we saw memorials to the dead who fought in two horrific world wars, which were followed by Soviet occupation, the dissolution of Yugoslavia, and afterwards the conflict in the Balkans they refer to as the “Homeland Wars.” Crumbling Soviet-era buildings still dot the landscape, although they are largely abandoned and covered with graffiti.

That said, it is all the more important, I believe, to visit these countries, to celebrate their resilience and ability to move forward after such adversity, especially as yet another conflict in neighboring Ukraine threatens the tranquility of the European continent. Traveling reminds me once again how fortunate I have been to have lived at a time, and in a country, where we have been blessed with relative peace and prosperity. A trip through Eastern Europe reminds us of how lucky we Americans really are.

*Remains of a town on the banks of the Danube 9,000 years ago at the Lepenski Vir archeological site.* *For more information on the site visit:* https://www.serbia.com/visit-serbia/cultural-attractions/archaeological-sites/lepenski-vir-the-oldest-urban-settlement-in-europe/

Have you ever traveled to any of the countries in Eastern Europe? Or, perhaps you have lived there and can offer your own views on this part of the world. Please share your thoughts in the comment section below.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices chair yoga. Virgin Snow is her first novel.

[1] For those interested in details, the currency in each of these countries is as follows: Hungary (the forint), Serbia (the dinar), Bulgaria (the lev) and Romania (the lei).

Why Buffalonians Will Always Love Spring Break

As long as there are long, snowy months in Buffalo, there will be snowbirds of every age winging their way to the Land of Sunshine.

Imagine, if you will, that it is late March or early April in Buffalo, and daytime temperatures are still hovering in the 30s as they have for the past five months or so. A thick gray blanket of cloud continues to obscure the sun and there are very few green things poking through the half-frozen mud. You are tired of brushing snow from your windshield and avoiding ice wherever you walk. You long to be warm again, feel the sun on your face, and to be shed of the three layers of winter clothing that make you look ten pounds heavier than you actually are.

*The hotel was nice enough, considering the price.* *All photos by Moxie Gardiner.*

At least, that’s how I felt when I was a freshman at Buffalo State College and first learned about something called “spring break.” The school was sponsoring a bus trip down to Daytona Beach, Florida the week before Easter, and the price included a shared hotel room. Once I determined that I’d get a couple hundred dollars back from my tax return—enough to cover both bus and room—I called several girlfriends and signed us up.

*There was, I’ll admit, always a bit of craziness around the pool.*

Having never traveled such a long distance from Buffalo in my life, I failed to ask a few pertinent questions like, how long will the bus trip take (24 hours with stops) how many bathrooms will there be on the bus (one), and how many people to a hotel room (four). Small matters, it might seem, when you are young and adventurous, until the bus begins to smell of vomit after six hours of non-stop drinking, and your girlfriends want to invite new “friends” to spend the night in your hotel room.

*There was a band at every hotel, entertaining us for free! Thought I’d died and gone to heaven….*

At the time, I thought spring break was a new and novel idea, but have since found out that the concept has been around for a long time. The Greeks and Romans, if you want to go back that far, were the first to invent the spring bacchanalia, which included wine, sex, and various forms of debauchery to celebrate the arrival of the vernal equinox. But spring break, in its current form, is attributed to a swimming coach at Colgate University (a fellow New Yorker) who wanted his swim team to get some early spring training back in the 1930s. The idea apparently caught on and many northern college swim teams began making the annual trek to warmer climes.

Now spring break is an annual tradition enjoyed by students in many countries and is considered by some to be one of the more memorable collegiate experiences. For Americans, Florida is no longer the primary destination. The Bahamas, Hawaii, Mexico and Arizona are among the top trending travel destinations for spring break 2023. Florida apparently makes up only 18% of overall bookings.

*The tire blew to smithereens, which created a bit of excitement.*

*But after chilling out for several hours, we were back on the road again….*

With one or two exceptions, (like the time our Blue Bird bus blew a tire and went skidding off the road into the North Carolina wilderness), my spring break experiences were fairly tame by modern standards. We partied, of course, listened to bands, played volleyball, and went swimming in the ocean. But my favorite thing to do was catch fish and bring them to a local restaurant, where the kitchen would clean and prepare your fish and serve it with sides for about $5. All very innocent, as I said.

*Motorbikes of all kinds ply the hard packed sands of Daytona Beach.*

How then, has spring break taken such a bad turn in recent years? According to recent articles, on South Padre Island, police report an average of 25 arrests per day during the typical spring break week. In Panama City, where the spring break season extends through March and into April, there were almost 700 arrests in the first few weeks of March alone. In Miami, multiple weekends of violence have left two people dead, hundreds arrested and dozens of guns confiscated by law enforcement officers. Whatever happened to drinking a few beers and nuzzling under a palm tree?

*Me and my catch of the day (the fish, that is).*

It is a shame that what was once a rite of passage for college kids—where getting too sunburned was your greatest concern—has in some places become dangerous and potentially deadly. I hate to be one of these people who talk about how things were so much better back in the day, but in this case I think they might have been.

That said, I don’t think it will matter much to Buffalonians. As long as there are long, snowy months in Buffalo, there will be always be snowbirds of every age winging their way to the Land of Sunshine.

Did you ever participate in spring break? What was it like for your generation? I would love to hear your stories.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. She is almost ready to publish her first novel, set in Buffalo.

Where Next? The Tyranny of Too Many Choices

How might you choose among the following travel destinations if you had unlimited time and money?

Usually at this time of year, I begin to dream about where I might go on my next big vacation. This West Side girl needs to get herself back out into the big wide world! The problem is, there are too many places I’d like to go and not enough time to see them all (I’m not getting any younger), so how do I choose?

As always, I’ve organized my options into five buckets, but this year I’m soliciting advice. How might you choose among the following if you had unlimited time and money? (I don’t have either one, but heck, we’re dreaming here.)

*Riding bikes along a canal is a scenic, easy going, and affordable option.*

An Active Vacation: I try to stay fit so active vacations—where I get a sufficient amount of exercise every day—are always at the top of my list. I’ve investigated opportunities for bicycle trips across Europe, scenic walks on old pilgrimage routes, and heart-pumping hikes through national parks ranging from Alaska to Chile. But I’m thinking this year, why not do something local, like a bike ride along the Erie Canal from Buffalo to Rochester? Its attraction? It’s mostly flat (and affordable).

An Ancestry Vacation: Like many who have delved into genealogy or spit into a tube and had their DNA tested, I’ve found that I have distant relatives all over the place, to include far-away lands like Turkey and Egypt. I have recently learned, though, that ten generations of one line of my family hail from lovely Switzerland, home of the Alps, edelweiss, Lindt chocolate, Lake Lucerne, and the Bernina Express railway. Previous visits to distant relatives in other foreign countries have led to surprisingly warm and welcoming receptions, so why not explore one’s roots in a place of stunning beauty?

*Oh, to visit family in the majestic Alps of Switzerland!*

A Somewhere-I’ve-Never-Been-Before Vacation: Yes, I am one of those people addicted to the new and different, so going to places I’ve never been is always a thrill. There are several islands in the Mediterranean Sea, for example, like Elba (where Napoleon was exiled), Corsica (a French island with white sand beaches), and Sardinia (home to a herd of albino donkeys) that I’ve never set foot upon. Another option I like is visiting small countries not usually on the list of tourist hot spots, like the Baltic countries of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia. Finally, I’ve never been anywhere in the Middle East so Egypt and Jordan rise to the top of this list for obvious historical and cultural reasons.

*Who doesn’t love to walk among the world’s most exotic animals?*

A Wildlife Vacation: I can never get too much of the natural world, and I’d rather travel 1,000 miles to see an exotic bird or mammal than a foreign country’s Hard Rock Café. The photo safari experience I had in Africa’s Serengeti was one of the highlights of my life, but I hear that Costa Rica, a place not as far geographically speaking, has more than its fair share of gorgeous flora and fauna. Furthermore, it costs far less than traveling to Africa, and the flight is shorter and easier on the old bod.

*One of the benefits of working in a national park is access to beautiful, unspoiled places that tourists seldom get a chance to see.*

A Working Vacation: Hold on now. I’m not talking about having your phone glued to your ear and the office calling you 24/7. I’m talking about volunteering somewhere, like a state or national park, that depends on free labor to supplement the work of their limited full-time staff. I had a wonderful vacation in Rocky Mountain National Park one year, working with park rangers on controlling the spread of invasive species. Although some of the day was spent working, I got to enjoy the park and see parts of it I wouldn’t have otherwise. Another bonus: volunteers receive free admission to the park on the days they work, and may receive free camping or other accommodations depending on the project and its duration. I’d love to work in one of the Southwest national parks like White Sands, Carlsbad Caverns, or Big Bend (but preferably not in the summer!).

So, friends help me out here. If you had to choose, where would you go? Please share your thoughts in the comments, below.

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. She is almost ready to publish her first novel, set in Buffalo.

How to Eat Pasta and Lose 10 Pounds

When I first saw the brochure for “A Walking Tour of Tuscany and the Italian Riviera” I danced my version of the Tarantella around the living room. To visit the land of Michelangelo and da Vinci, see the beautiful cities of Florence and Siena, eat great food, drink delicious wine, and get a little exercise in the bargain? What a dream! I watched “Under the Tuscan Sun” for the fourth time and packed my bags, eager for this exciting adventure.

*The lovely Tuscan landscape. All photos by Moxie Gardiner.*

Little did I know that this would not be a “walk” through these lovely regions of Italy, but a series of daily, fairly rigorous, four- to six-mile hikes that would have me clambering over boulders, huffing and puffing up winding hillsides and clinging to rock walls on the steep route down, all while trying to pause long enough to admire the spectacular views (and catch my breath).

*My fellow travelers came well prepared.*

The folks in the group I was with were of “a certain age” and very fit, with more than one septuagenarian leaving me in the dust as we went over hill and dale together. They had obviously done more research on the many famous hiking trails in these two regions, equipped as these retirees were with trekking poles, Camelbaks, and other serious hiking gear.

*Do you remember the expression, “all roads lead to Rome”?*

*I wished I had those trekking poles on this stretch.*

We traveled on perhaps the best known of all the hiking trails in Tuscany, the Via Francigena, (the ancient pilgrimage route from Canterbury, England to Rome). Unlike hiking the more famous Camino de Santiago, we saw few people and no pilgrims (that I could tell) on this trail.

To the left and right of us was a bucolic landscape that must have looked very similar to when Sigeric the Serious (you gotta love that name), Archbishop of Canterbury, made his trek from England to Rome and back again in the year 990. The small towns and abbeys along the route prospered thereafter, thanks to the sore feet of many a weary traveler.

*The foundation of the original Benedictine monastery at Sant’ Antimo dates to the time of Charlemagne.*

Our hikes along the Ligurian Coast (sometimes known as the Italian Riviera for its sandy beaches, clear waters, and chic hotels), though equally beautiful, were no walk in the park either.

The first hike was from Santa Margherita Ligure to Portofino, playground of the rich and famous. We hugged the coast for half a mile with sunlight reflecting off the crystalline sea, found ourselves on a leafy path called the Passeggiato dei Baci (Walk of Kisses), took a quick tour of Portofino (too expensive for my West Sides tastes) and climbed the winding path to the lighthouse.

*Portofino, viewed from the lighthouse trail.*

*“Tough stairs and inclines” in the Cinque Terre.*

That was challenging enough, but on the second-to-last day of the trip, we were to make the toughest trek yet, hiking the fourth and final section of The Blue Trail, the Sentiero Azzurro, which connects the five main villages of the Cinque Terre. The final section from Vernazza to Monterosso al Mare is billed as “challenging… with some tough stairs and inclines.” Tough? Challenging? There were several places where I feared for my life (being mostly worried about getting knocked off the narrow path by the hordes of tourists coming the other way). Fortunately, I didn’t injure my knee until the very last kilometer, and got a round of applause when I finally limped into the restaurant in Monterosso where the rest of the group was already halfway through lunch.

*It was a rough, nearly vertical scramble, but this view of the Cinque Terre was worth it.*

Rather than hike on the very last day, I opted for a full body massage in the hotel spa. It was possibly the best decision I made on the entire trip (if not in my entire life).

*One of many pasta dishes I thoroughly enjoyed.*

My Fitbit gave me a final tally at the end of the trip: 88 miles and 206,000 steps. Did I lose 10 pounds? Nah, but I easily could have, burning as I did an average of 3000 calories a day. I did lose some weight, and would have lost more if I hadn’t made a separate goal of trying a different gelato flavor in every small town I visited.

*It would be criminal to pass up a place with a sign that reads “Gelato World Champion.”*

Would I do it again? My goodness, yes! I jumped out of bed every morning, even on the days when I knew the trek would be hard. Would I try to do a better job of balancing intake (food) and outgo (exercise)? Doubtful. When in Italy, it is important to establish one’s priorities at the very outset. While experiencing a region known for outstanding food and wine, living la dolce vita (a sweet life of self-indulgence) was at the top of my list (even if only for a few days–sigh).

Now that the world is open to travel again, do you have a dream destination? Would you rather have an “active” vacation like this, or one of ease and relaxation? Please share your thoughts in the comments below!

Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits at the Jungle Operations Training Course in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. She is almost ready to publish her first novel, set in Buffalo.

The Open Hearts and Gardens of Western New York

*During the month of July, nearly 100 gardens in the greater Buffalo-Niagara region are open to visitors.*
*_{All photos by Moxie Gardiner}*

The front of the house was very pretty, the flower border a vivid mix of colors and textures. I was admiring the understated, whimsical touches that added visual interest, while I waited for my sister who went ahead to scope out the back yard. She reappeared, motioning excitedly. “Come on,” she said, “the yard is going to blow you away.”

She was right. I walked down a shaded alleyway, chock-a-block with hostas, ferns, and other shade-loving plants, that opened onto a winding path through something akin to a magic forest. I was immediately reminded of one of my favorite books as a child—A Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Each twist in the path revealed a new surprise: a Koi pond here, miniature shrubs there, and a kaleidoscopic mix of flowers tucked in everywhere.

*“And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles”* –Frances Hodgson Burnett.

My sister and I were embarked on our annual sojourn through the stunning gardens of Western New York. Last year I wrote about Buffalo’s internationally known Garden Walk, a free tour of some 400 homes in the densely-packed neighborhoods of the older part of the city, and the awe I felt as a fellow horticulturalist and former Buffalonian, seeing how these marvelous bits of heaven had transformed once-blighted areas.

*What could be more relaxing* *than sitting amidst this loveliness and watching the sunset over Lake Erie?*

This year, however, we decided to explore gardens in the greater Buffalo-Niagara region, focusing on small towns like Clarence, Eden, Hamburg, and Lake View. Every Thursday and Friday throughout the month of July, some 100 additional homeowners outside the city open their properties to visitors.

These tours, while just as rewarding as Buffalo’s Garden Walk, had a very different vibe. The properties were much larger on the whole, and the landscapes more extensive. In some gardens, we were the only visitors. We had room to maneuver and the owners had time to stroll with us and answer our questions.

Gardening on a large property requires a whole different skill set. On a small property, it is possible to (somewhat affordably) pack in a lot of colorful annuals amongst the perennials for a big splash of wall-to-wall color. In these larger plots, the growers must figure out how fill up the space without spending a fortune. Some chose to have a unifying theme or a central feature like a pond to build around, while others create a series of mini-gardens, each with their own individual identity. I was consistently impressed with the artistry, creativity, and uniqueness of each garden I visited (as well as the homeowner’s ability to somehow keep out the deer and rabbits).

*“Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.”* *– Luther Burbank*

What all the gardens had in common, however, was the warm and hospitable welcome we received from the people who owned them. They were only too happy to answer our questions and offer suggestions. Many provided bottled water and other nourishment for visitors on these free tours, which made me wonder, what makes gardeners some of the most generous, openhearted people on the planet?

*This passionflower was* *a crowd favorite.*

I recently read an article entitled, Do You Have the Personality Traits of a Gardener?[1] It listed as desirable attributes: appreciation of nature, patience, drive, creativity, curiosity, hope, expectation, and kindness. Throughout my tours of these private spaces and visits with those who tended them, I found all of these qualities in evidence. But I believe the article missed the most important trait—humility.

All gardeners quickly learn that no matter how many tips and tricks you learn, or how much money you spend, you will always encounter failures, and at times, disastrous ones. Mother Nature is an independent woman who refuses to be controlled, so we have to learn to work with the good and the bad she has to offer. We learn and adapt, and adapt again.

*He who plants a garden plants happiness. – Chinese proverb*

We have all been humbled at one time or another, and so when we, hand-in-hand with Mother Nature, achieve a measure of success, we want to celebrate, and if we are lucky, inspire the next generation of openhearted gardeners who will experience the joys and sorrows of a beautiful garden, and share it with others.

Are you a gardener? Do you have a favorite garden that inspires you, or better yet, brings you joy or peace? Please share your stories in the comments below!

*“When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden.” – Minnie Aumonier*

[1] To find out if you’ve got what it takes to be a gardener, see https://theheartygarden.com/gardening-personality-traits/.

For more information on the gardens and to plan your trip for next year, check out

https://www.gardensbuffaloniagara.com/open-gardens-buffalo

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