SONDER // Edition 4

SONDER

Edition 4

LIFE . TRAVEL . ADVENTURE

THE OREGON COAST

SONDER

T R AV E L M AGA Z I N E E D I TO R I N C H I E F Elisa Vandergriff

L E T T E R F ROM T H E E D I TO R

C O N T R I B U T E RS Cayla Graner Elisa Vandergriff Hallie Dilworth Houston Vandergriff Ilka Ringeltaube Jesse Kelly Katie Vandergriff Kylie Hull Lacee Lay Logan Craig Morgane Turqui Yasmin Murphy

C OV E R S T O RY O N PAG E 6 7

Dearest readers, I am so excited to present to you the Fourth Edition of Sonder Travel Magazine. Jack Kerouac once said, “Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry.” This is a mantra I aspire to live by and one which resonated with me as I approached the formative stages of my senior honors thesis in college. I wanted to find a way to share the opportunities I have had to live, travel, and adventure and be able to bless others with resources and inspiration to do the same. Thus, Sonder was born.

Although this edition was published in a year where travel went nearly extinct, it has become more important than ever to share our stories. We need to remember the adventures of our lives, the breathtaking parts, the hard parts, the unbelievable parts. We need to reflect on the past and adapt for the future.

I hope these stories bring a light back into your heart just as they did mine. As you journey through this publication, I hope that you find adventure on every page.

Cheers, Elisa Vandergriff, Editor in Chief sondertravelmag@gmail.com

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IN THIS EDITION

W HAT’S INSIDE

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S A N F R A N C I S C O WA L K I N G T O U R

H A L L I E D I LWO R T H

5

L AC E E L AY

9

E L I S A VA N D E R G R I F F

15

J E S SE K E L LY

19

K A T I E VA N D E R G R I F F

25

I L K A R I NGE LTAU BE

31

C AY L A GR A N E R

35

MORGANE T URQUI

37

K A T I E VA N D E R G R I F F

49

LOGAN CRAIG

51

KYLIE HULL

53

K A T I E VA N D E R G R I F F

57

YA SMIN MU R PH Y

59

SADNESS, TOO

K A T I E VA N D E R G R I F F

65

T H E OR EG ON COA S T

E L I S A VA N D E R G R I F F

67

A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGR APHS LAKE BLED A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGR APHS M A R K E T DAYS AST ROS, GR EECE NOT HING TO DO IN A SMA L L TOW N ICEL AND SNÆL AND A R L E S , C A M A RG U E & S T. M A R I E D E L A M E R C O L L E C T I V E E F F E RV E S C E N C E A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGR APHS L AV E N D E R F I E L D S A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGR APHS

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SELF -GUIDED SAN FRANCISCO WA L K I N G TO U R : T H E E M B A R C A D E R O / C H I N ATO W N / N O R T H B E AC H ( ~ 5 M I L E S )

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T H E

at the Ferry Building on a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday morning and explore the Farmer’s Market. Grab some breakfast from a local vendor, and take in views of the Bay Bridge.

Make your way south on Taylor and check out Ina Coolbrith Park. This is kind of a hidden gem in SF (shhhh!), and it has a gorgeous view of the Financial District and Bay Bridge.

Walk along the Embarcadero to Pier 39, where you can stop to watch the sea lions. I hate Pier 39, but let me tell ya I could watch those sea lions for hours. Continue over to Fisherman’s Wharf and check out the Musée Mécanique, where you can play old school arcade games. You might recognize some of the games from The Princess Diaries! Entry is free and the games only cost about a quarter each.

Continue south to Chinatown. Ok, now that you’re out of tourist central it’s safe to eat! Stop at Good Mong Kok Bakery and get dim sum to go. Take your picnic over to Portsmouth Square, one of my favorite places to people watch.

Keep walking west to Ghirardelli Square, and stop in either of the shops for a free sample (or go to both for two samples). If you want to bring home some Ghirardelli chocolate bought in San Francisco, just go to the CVS across the street and pay half the price. It’s still from San Francisco!

Make your way down to Aquatic Park where you can sit on the steps by the water or walk out onto the pier. From this pier, you can see nearly every SF landmark - the Golden Gate, Alcatraz, the Bay Bridge, Coit Tower, the Transamerica Pyramid, and the Ghirardelli sign.

Walk (or take a cable car) up Hyde Street to Lombard Street.

Once you’ve stuffed yourself with dim sum and rested your feet, it’s time to explore Chinatown. If you need cheap souvenirs to take home to family and friends, this is where to find them.

C H I N A T O W N

S TA R T

E M B A R C A D E R O

This self-guided walking tour will take you to a lot of the obligatory tourist traps, but also to some local favorites. Throw on a comfortable pair of shoes and get ready for a fun-filled day!

If you find yourself in need of a drink, stop in the Li Po Lounge. This Chinese dive bar is famous for their extra strong mai tais.

After you’ve explored Chinatown to your heart’s content, it’s time to check out North Beach, which is basically our “Little Italy.”

Make your way over to Columbus Street, where you’ll be greeted with the smell of garlic.

Because I’m sure you haven’t walked up enough hills yet, let’s add another. Climb up to Coit Tower for another beautiful view of the city and the Bay. You can also pay to go inside if you’d like.

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N O R T H B E A C H

Worked up an appetite? Perfect. Make your way down the hill to Tony’s Pizza Napoletana and put your name on the waitlist. Since Tony’s is right on the corner of Washington Square Park, find a bench or a patch of grass there to wait. From here you can admire the church where Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio got married.

Once you get your table at Tony’s, prepare yourself for some of the best pizza of your life.

I highly recommend the Margherita and Cal Italia.

I hope you saved room for dessert! Head over to Tommaso’s for the best tiramisu in the city and a glass of wine.

Remember that this is only a small portion of all that San Francisco has to offer. There’s so much to explore in this magical city!

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A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS

by LACEE LAY

Custer State Park

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Custer State Park

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Crazy Horse Memorial

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Badlands National Park

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Custer State Park

Mount Rushmore National Memorial

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Story & Photography

by Elisa Vandergriff

M

y mom, brother, and I took a bus through the spring kissed alps from Trieste, Italy to Bled, Slovenia. Bled is a little town nestled into the mountains built around its crowning feature - the lake. Our Airbnb looked out over snow covered peaks with a skylight perfectly placed for laying in bed and looking at the moon and only cost $80 for the weekend.

We arrived in the evening, just in time to watch the sun set over the magical island in the middle of the lake. We had dinner at a rustic restaurant with a castle view, trying the most Slovenian recipes on the menu, and then called it a night.

We meant to wake up the next morning to catch the sunrise light, but when the alarms rang in the pitch dark, freezing cold night we decided to sleep in a bit more. We started our adventure a sensible amount of hours later, once we were sufficiently rested and caffeinated.

Even though the trail around the lake is 3.8 miles, we decided to make a day of the journey.

We started on the trail to the right, toward the magical Bled Castle that rested on the cliffs above. The trail is a paved path through the forest, shouldering the lake the entire way and giving the opportunity for three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of the Church of the Assumption in the middle.

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A little ways into our journey, I got an email about a time-sensitive work situation that I had to solve. Being a remote worker has its pro’s and con’s… con: my serene walk around the lake could be interrupted by a work emergency at any time, pro: a park bench next to one of the most beautiful lakes in the world became my office for the day. I was able to take care of everything from my phone (thank you technology) and carry on with our venture around the lake.

We made our way around, stopping every once in a while to capture every angle of that little island, and every new angle was even more beautiful than the last. Because we were taking our sweet time, we got to experience the majesty in every phase of light (well, except sunrise of course). When we finally made it back to our starting point we were exhausted, but in the most pleasant way. We finished off our day with some Slovenian pizza (it’s a lot like any other pizza) and headed back to our airbnb under the light of a full moon.

The next morning we packed up, said goodbye to our airbnb, and made a little journey across town toward the place we would catch our next bus. We stopped and bought some souvenirs and made it in time to spend a few minutes by the lake before we left. We didn’t know what to expect before we came to Bled, but it was a little pocket of serenity on a trip that had already experienced major ups and downs and that was far from over.

A moment to stop and catch our breath.

A quiet place in a noisy world.

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A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS

by JESSE KELLY

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These were taken at a dude ranch outside of Tucson, AZ. It was my first time in the desert, and I’m now a firm believer that the best way to see it is on horseback. I’m an East Tennessee native, but these mountains sure gave the Smokies a run for their money.

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M A R K E T D AY S Story by Katie Vandergriff | Photos by Houston Vandergriff

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We hit up the market with a short list of items to find: lavender soap, straw hat, handmade cutting board, and lunch.

The Aix Markets (Marche’s D’Aix) host dazzling displays of colors, textures, and scents. A variety of old-style markets are held daily. The city of Aix-en-Provence, often shortened to simply Aix, pronounced like the letter “X” is located on the edge of the Cote d’Azur.

Vendors line up their wares on both sides of the tree-lined Cours Mirabeau.

Aptly named one of the most beautiful avenues in the world, on market days this Provincial place bursts with energy and commerce.

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On Tuesday (Mardi), Thursday (Jeudi), and Saturday (Samedi) the town becomes a party of textiles, handcrafts, antiques, food, and flowers. Buses, cars, and Vespas may speed around the sculptural Fountaine de la Rotonde, but the sidewalks are all reserved for vendors and inspectors of their goods.

The fish and food market can be found daily at the Place Richelme. Fresh seafood is brought in from nearby boats in the Mediterranean coastal towns of Marseilles and Cassis. Shrimp, fish, mussels, and octopus are kept on ice to go straight from the market to your kitchen.

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Colorful fruits and vegetables dominate the main food market. Red, yellow, and purple tomatoes are stacked beside braided knots of garlic longer than a man’s forearm. Fresh cantaloupe, berries, and apricots are piled among every color of food imaginable. Buckets and bowls of fresh spices, imported from around the world, are sold by weight. But smelling them all is free of charge.

Aix-en-Provence was once the capital of Provence. Nearly 45,000 international students add a youthful energy to the town from the university that dates from 1409. Aix is also known as the City of A Thousand Fountains because of the dozens of fountains that punctuate nearly every street corner. The café’ laced maze of narrow streets make the perfect place for two of our favorite activities - shopping and people watching.

Successful in our market haul, we were inspired to stop on the way back at one of the sidewalk cafés. We got the plat du jour.

I am pretty sure the ingredients for the chicken curry came from the daily market just a block away.

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ASTROS, GREECE

By Ilka Ringeltaube

When I think about Astros and my time there, I think of hot afternoons, salt & sand, crickets chirping in the bushes.

I think of washed out but bright colours to be found on wood and stone.

I think of little dainty drawings, appearing all through the little town.

I think of fresh lemons and wine and the smell of flowers.

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It reminds me to slow down every once in a while, to take a deep breath of fresh air and be thankful for what is good and simple.

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“

NOTHING TO DO IN A SMALL TOWN

By Cayla Graner

I C O M E F R O M A S M A L L TO W N T H AT H AS N OT H I N G TO D O .

If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard that on TV or in my life in the past two years I would be rich. And while there are very small towns and cities around the world, I often think that maybe people just aren’t looking close enough to find the treasures that make small towns great.

Before the quarantine of 2020, I traveled a lot out of state and even out of America.

I love experiencing new cultures, foods, and activities, so traveling outside of my hometown of Knoxville was always the goal. But I have now spent almost two years without flying or going outside the country. And although I miss it and long for the day I can finally go outside the US, I’ve actually had an amazing time exploring my “small town” of Knoxville, Tennessee.

My goal this year was to find a new local restaurant every time I wanted to go out to eat. Luckily, my friend Rebekah also loves traveling and has helped me find authentic Japanese food, Greek, Thai, and more! I literally didn’t have to even go further than 30 min to eat food from around the world. I found

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that simply paying attention to areas when you’re driving through new streets and searching through Instagram really helped me find amazing places.

To keep myself from eating all the time, I also tried to find activities that I could do with my friends that were new and exciting. Just by searching for specific activities online or driving to new areas of town, I was able to find stuff that I didn’t even know Knoxville had. I had no idea that there was a hobbit look-alike village only 20 minutes from my house. Or that there’s a restaurant that does live trivia events every month, including a Parks and Rec trivia with lil Sebastian horses.

There are so many things to find and explore in a small town that you don’t get to experience with a big or well known city. Whenever there’s a new place that opens up, it makes you excited to try it.

So the next time someone talks about living in a small town and how they want to “escape,” just tell them that the best treasures are buried deep in small places.

T I PS O N H O W TO F I N D P L AC E S I N SM A L L TO W N S I N S TAG R A M .

Go to the places you like to eat at or go to and search for places also like that. Often Instagram has a “suggested” tab under your favorite places.

DRIVE. Just drive around new areas of town and pay attention to all the storefronts for new places

AS K .

If you go to a place you really like, ask the owners if there are other places like it, or something that they would suggest. I usually find more places to go to at the new place I just visited

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IC E L AND

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SNÆL AND T H E L A N DS C A P E FAC TO RY Story & Photography by Morgane Turqui

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2 W E E KS O F C A M P I N G 2 W E E KS ..

FORGET TING TIME LO O S I N G T R AC K O F A N Y SORT OF COMFORT TO R E D I S C OV E R YO U R S E L F AT T H E T H R E S H O L D B E T W E E N A DV E N T U R E A N D EXPERIENCE W H E R E T H E E A R T H F I N A L LY S E E M S TO L I V E A N D B R E AT H E I’ve waited for a long time to go on a camping road trip and I’ve finally done it in Iceland. After one year and a half of being stuck behind a mask, I’ve had the opportunity of taking a bowl of fresh air in the land of fire and ice.

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This is no euphemism. Iceland really is a land of contrasts. Of fire and ice - Lava fields to lupine fields - Long rainy days to a timeless and motionless sunset - A place where hot springs flow and snow covers it all - From black beaches to white glaciers - Bright and burning magma bursting up from a volcano to tons of water flowing down from waterfalls - Little puffins, mystical sheep, glorious stallions, and massive whales.

I’ve had the opportunity to travel quite a lot, but never have I ever been so in awe with this array of sceneries. Travelling in Iceland is pretty easy and super safe. Just follow route 1, and all of the most famous spots are not far from it. We’ve decided to take it counterclockwise, escaping little by little civilization.

We rented a 4x4 and camped, as Iceland is .. well.. a pretty expensive country. We even packed some food in our luggage. It was my first time going out of my comfort zone that much and pushing myself into such an adventure.

I won’t lie - it wasn’t always easy…

Camping with 0 degrees Celsius (37°F), having to cook outside and eat only can food or rice, having to sleep on a very thin mattress, setting or leaving camp while it’s still raining and freezing cold, or not being able to take a shower for a few days — oops, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that part —…

At the beginning it was fun, but by the end of the trip of course I was getting tired.

However, every single time I felt exhausted and wanted to go back to a sort of comfort, I was immediately amazed and struck by another gem.

You are seized by the beauty of every single landscape. No matter what direction you look at, there is another panorama to fascinate you, there is another animal to amuse you and there are other colors that proves you that earth is a living painting.

Contemplating a black sand beach and a few minutes later being dazzled by white glaciers.. under the midnight sun .. truly is something astonishing that you must experience.

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I’ve never realized before how much the earth is truly alive and kind of expressing itself through volcanos, geysers, hot springs, sulfur, and wildlife — which have such a major part for Icelanders.

I would highly recommend this country, had you seen my face throughout the whole trip, there were only few moments when I did not smile from bewilderment and wonder in this mystical country.

A F E W T I PS & H I G H L I G H TS OF THE TRIP

W H A L E WATC H I N G I N H U SAV I K If you’ve seen the movie Eurovision, you probably remember the lyrics « where the whales can live cause they’re gentle people ». Well, we went on a tour in Husavik. We chose to do it from 10.30pm till midnight.

Definitely choose this time if you’re going whale watching ! The price is the same (122€), it’s less crowded — there is just one boat company that offers the tour at that time so there will be less boats near the whales — AND if the weather’s good, you’ll get a breathtaking sunset that will stay still way after the end of the tour. The sun never seems to set on this burning land, so you’ll get to see these amazing colors from the ocean.

If you plan to visit spots that are only accessible through a F-road. If I were to do it again, I’ll probably rent a van with some companies such as Kukucampers. It’s much more comfortable than camping as you have the kitchen and beds in the van.

You can’t drive these vans on the F-roads though, so you’ll have to make a choice between comfort and more landscape.

On our way to see the whales, as we were speeding up on the boat, breaking the glistening waves, with puffins flying just above them and at our speed, with the sunset dazzling us, I was completely enthralled by this magical moment. My overjoyed heart handed over to my eyes which were trying to capture every moment, knowing that I was reaching the climax of my trip. I felt liberty and peace, watching those birds in their natural habitat, flying freely over the freezing ocean, painted in bright warm colors.

I T ’S A R E A L LY SA F E C O U N T RY

M E E T I N G LO C A L S

If you’re a girl and want to try to travel alone .. go to Iceland! Especially in summer, when the sun doesn’t set, it’s way easier to travel or settle your camp; and Icelanders are super nice.

Being there for the final of the Euro Football Cup was something. We wanted to watch the game but were in a small town, at the southwest of Iceland. We ended up finding a random bar… the room was filled with Icelanders, families, couples, … all cheered up with beer, watching with excitement and shouting during the game.

RENT A 4X4

I C E C L I M B I N G O N A G L AC I E R Passionate about rock climbing, my friend and I couldn’t say no to the excursion « ice climbing ».

The view and walking on a glacier was really something, and hiking it was pretty cool. You feel like being on an expedition team in the Antarctic as they lend you a whole outfit to do it. However, taking into account how much we’ve paid for it (more than 150€), we ended up being pretty disappointed as we expected it to be way longer.

We managed to find a seat in the middle of this crowd. I was seated between 2 gigantic vikings who were drinking their beer.

We felt true authenticity drinking local Icelandic beer alongside them, who all seemed to know one another, and hearing this beautiful language being spoken by them. Dancing and partying followed the game.

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H OT P OT Have constantly a swimsuit with you as there are hot springs pretty much everywhere in Iceland. The water is really warm, sometimes it’s even too hot to get in!

Seljavallalaug was one of the most beautiful ones, as it is the oldest manmade swimming pool in Iceland, built in 1923 and surrounded by mountains. The water isn’t super warm, but if you want to be alone, you should go during the “night” — remember, there is no night, you’ll see clearly and it will be less crowded in summer!

The most impressive was Reykjadalur, as it is a hot spring river ! You’ll have to hike for more than one hour to get there, but the hike is definitely worth it and super quaint — lots of sheep, steamy geothermal fumaroles, waterfalls and bright blue pools.

It’s really neat to realize that the water from the river is hot.

Djúpavogskörin is a beautiful tub, facing the ocean — but it’s way too hot and this is not a joke, we couldn’t get in.

A tip — if you’re traveling in 4x4 and tents and are broke, you can pay an entrance to get into the locals swimming pools and you’ll get access to the pool, showers, and bathrooms. It’s sometimes the same price of even cheaper than at some campsites, and it’s cleaner and more relaxing. Swimming pools really are the culture in Iceland so you’ll find them in every city.

SEEING AN ERUPTING VOLCANO The Fagradalsfjall volcano had been erupting for months when we arrived, fully confident that we would see it, near Reykjavík. We arrived at the campsite of the capital, and some campers showed us their amazing pictures from the day before.

We woke up early the next day, fully confident that we would see it, and ready to hike and see this famous volcano spewing lava out. We hiked for more than 2 hours.. with a thick fog, and once we arrived at the peak... the volcano was out…

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You can barely imagine how frustrated we were… as we had a schedule to keep in order to go round the isle, so we couldn’t wait any more days near Reykjavik.

Anyways, once our trip started, we kept checking every single day online and on social media, with the strong hope that the volcano would suddenly wake up again before the end of our trip…

Two days before going back home, once we were back in Reykjavik, the volcano actually started erupting again! We didn’t hesitate and woke up super early the next day, and did that long hike again…

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The first thing that we were struck with was the sound of it, resembling that of a bug, humming from a distance.

Then, the color — a radiant and sparkling orange-red that isn’t anywhere else to be seen nor reproduced.

It’s such an ephemeral and particular show. Instantly, you become just like when you were a kid, staring at the sky, waiting for the next lightning when thunder’s up.

Every minute, another eruption left every observant aphonic, and you could only hear the volcano and the click of photographers picturing this living art theater.

1 TRIP 2 W E E KS O F C A M P I N G S 3 000 K M 4 FRIENDS IN A 4X4 5 DAYS W I T H N O S H O W E R 6 H OT P OTS 7 B A N D - A I D S O N MY F E E T 8 WHALES SEEN 9 F O R D S C R O SS E D 10 M E A L S S K I P P E D AND A LIFETIME OF UNDEFINABLE MEMORIES

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A R L E S , CAMARGUE & ST. MARIE DE LA MER

Story by Katie Vandergriff Photos by Houston Vandergriff

AS WE ARRIVED IN ARLES (pronounced “arl”) in the heart of Provence the Saturday Market was just wrapping for the day. Vendors were packing up their wares, taking down their tables, and putting their umbrellas away. Fortunately, our destination was something much older than today’s fresh fruits.

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DU PONT DE GAU

The sky turned brilliant colors as the sun set.

The “pink hour” seems to last forever in the South of France.

-

At the arena we wandered over and under the structure that resembled a smaller model of the Colosseum in Rome. A bull fight had been held there the night before. And across the street at the ancient theater, that band that was playing that evening was going through warm ups and sound check.

As our stomach growls grew louder than the surf, we headed inland to find dinner. We didn’t have to go far. We stopped at the Casa Marina just across the street from the ocean.

We dined on pasta with fresh mussels and split a seafood platter with tuna and grilled octopus. It was a bucket list experience to eat fresh seafood while staring out at the sea.

PARC ORNITHOLOGIQUE

We were on the hunt for the Amphitheater (Arenes d’Arles) and the Roman Theatre.

Both were built in Roman times, more than 2,000 years ago and are still used today. We purchased tickets for 9 euros that gave us access to both locations.

We would have loved to spend more time in Arles, but we had a mission to make it to the Camargue before sunset. Specifically we stopped at the Pont de Gau bird park (parc ornithologique), which is 35 km south of the city. At the bird park we were delighted to find thousands of pink flamingos. We hiked along the trails around the ponds and marshes that have been made exclusively to attract the birds.

The other famous animal of the Camargue is the white horse. We found many of these, too.

At the end of the day, many of the horses were eating dinner in the stalls, and hanging out in the fields, so of course we stopped and took photos.

Traveling on to the Mediterranean coast, we stopped at the small town of St. Marie De La Mer. We parked at one of the public lots and walked out to the ocean. Families on holiday were busy playing beach games, couples were strolling hand and hand, and hobby fishermen were wrapping up their poles for the day. We found some rocks and watched the soft waves crash to shore.

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COLLECTIVE EFFERVESCENCE

By Logan Elizabeth Craig

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fuck it. I’m going to the Wydown bakery every weekend for a blueberry lavender scone, to Qualia Coffee every other day for an iced oat milk latte and to make friends with the baristas, the kind of friendship that’s nothing more or less than warm familiarity, which I have missed like a limb, and on the hottest day of summer I’m going to Georgetown, gonna let the crowd shuffle around me like an anemone, I’ll be disgusting, I’ll put my tongue down your throat at Meridian Hill Park until a stranger threatens to call the cops, and I’ll make myself furious, drag my ass out of bed for the sunrise with three of my friends. I’m serious.

I’ll play truth or dare and I’ll do anything.

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A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS by KYLIE HULL

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LAVENDER FIELDS Story by Katie Vandergriff Photos by Houston Vandergriff

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L AV E N D E R - the intoxicating smell encompasses everything around. It has long been on my bucket list to visit a lavender field in full bloom.

Late one afternoon, armed with a dog-eared travel guide, a wishful Pinterest board, and a map, we hit the highway in search of purple.

The first field we found had about a dozen different groups of people spread out among the rows of brightly blooming flowers. They must have the same travel guide. Nearly all had cameras – some were posing for family photos, some for model shots, or some for Instagram fame. All were reveling in the amazing sight, smell, and sounds of the field.

As we left the main highway and meandered along smaller roads (aka some paved, some gravel) we left the crowds and found empty fields. Happy bees buzzed loudly. We had packed a picnic and as the sun began to set, we dined with lavender fields on all sides.

The South of France is arguably the best place in the world to find thousands of acres of beautiful, breathtaking lavender fields. The rocky, well-drained soil makes the perfect growing environment. The typical blooming and harvest season is from mid-July through mid-August. It was late July so some of the fields had already been harvested. Lavender harvest is similar to cutting hay, leaving crisp green rows where the vibrant purple lavender blooms had been.

During our quests for the most beautiful lavender fields, we stopped at small seasonal stores to talk with local farmers. These pop-up markets had lavender-everything: essential oils, sachets, foods, and bunches of fresh blooms.

If you ever happen to find yourself in the South of France in the summer, the lavender fields are a definite “Must See.” Some of the top places to find lavender fields include: · T E R R E U G O I N A I X - E N - P R OV E N C E · P L AT E AU O F VA L E N S O L E · P L AT E AU O F C L A PA R E D E S · V I L L AG E O F SAU LT · ROUTE DE MANOSQUE · LU B E R O N V I L L AG E S - G O R D E S & SA I G N O N Bring your camera, pack a picnic, and be prepared for the scent, sight, and sound of a lifetime.

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A COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS

by YASMIN MURPHY As a photographer traveling to new places has been a staple to my work. I love experiencing the newness of a city and just being a tourist. I find that traveling is my way to recharge while also creating art. When I have the ability to travel and photograph I am my most true self. When I’m offsite to do a project I feel more to able connect to the subject matter without distractions.

Joshua Tree, CA

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Photo by Elisa Vandergriff

Charleston

South Carolina

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Knoxville, TN

Pisgah National Forest, NC

Knoxville, TN

Folly Beach, SC

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Knoxville, TN

Folly Beach, SC

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SADNESS, TOO

By Katie Vandergriff

T

oday in the town there was a young man, with a dog, begging near the market. I gave him my change. His eyes were red and watery. He looked like he had been crying. He looked so sad, and tired. And I couldn’t talk with him because I don’t speak his language. I am a stranger in his country.

Here there is so much wealth and extravagance on display the markets, the fashion, the homes, and the museums filled with priceless art. Yet, there is sadness, too. The beggars on the streets, the lonely people walking to nowhere.

I love the excitement of traveling. But there are highs and lows. There are peaks and valleys. There is beauty, and there is pain. There is art,

and there is trash. There are wonderful scents, and there are disgusting smells. There is amazing food, and there is hunger. To experience any of it you have to experience all of it.

There is camaraderie, and there is loneliness. There are amazingly nice people, and there are people who are incredibly rude. There are all types of people -- we are all different -- but are we all the same?

I love the sense of adventure, of experiencing new things, and sharing it with others. But, is traveling for fun shallow?

Materialistic? Are we better off staying home and sending our money to help others?

In my heart I think we should travel, to see the world.

But today I wonder.

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THE OREGON COAST Story & Photography by Elisa Vandergriff

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T

he pandemic raged on, much longer than expected. The more time I spent inside, the more my soul craved the outside. Every moment spent among the fields and the flowers was sacred.

The trees dancing outside my window became my favorite film. Watching fog roll over the mountains was my Sunday service.

Naturally, the world being worse than ever goes hand in hand with work being busier than ever, and together they made sure my front door stayed shut. Travel was risky.

People were risky. After a full year of watching the list of things that make me feel alive turn into a list of things that could kill, there was no place to go that was worth the risk.

Then the vaccine came, much sooner than expected, and with it, a whole world of opportunities opened up again. I booked my vaccine appointment, I bought my plane tickets. Ever since 2020, I have learned to keep my expectations at arm’s length.

There’s only a certain amount of once-in-a-lifetime-eventsbeing-canceled that I could endure before I stopped trusting the future. But this

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was actually happening— I was actually going to realize my teenage dream of road tripping down the Oregon coast.

The night before our 7am flight, I barely slept a single minute. Before the pandemic, travel had become second nature to me. I had less anxiety flying to a new country than I did ordering at Starbucks.

That night, however, my brain kept me awake, belligerently running through every single possibility of things that could go wrong. Even though I try not to worry about factors I cannot control, it was the self-doubt that was the most crippling. Could I even do this anymore? The world had become so overwhelming and I felt I’d become increasingly fragile. My body had already broken down (ridiculously inconvenient and excruciating back pains thanks to a bad sleeping position the night before) and I was terrified of my mind joining it. What if I just couldn’t handle the pressure of traveling anymore?

The next morning, my sister, her husband, and my boyfriend awoke, finally ending my sleepless agony, and while the stars still danced in the night sky we made our way to the airport. There’s nothing that quite compares

to being in your home airport, and arriving that morning felt like greeting an old friend. We grabbed our first coffees of the day, sat at our gate, and when the time came, boarded our flight. I cried on the plane. Of course I did. As I watched the city lights below grow smaller, my throat clenched and tears fell down my cheeks soaking into my mask, and I didn’t want to stop it. It was the first time in a long time I felt like something good was actually happening, and I wanted to feel it entirely.

As we soared over America I was glued to the window. I watched as plains turned to mountains turned to snowy peaks. Landing in Portland felt like a dream that I was still waiting to wake up from. We were here, this was happening.

We picked up our rental car, made an attempt to find parking in downtown Portland for lunch, gave up quickly, and took off toward the coast.

We drove past farms and through forests. The further we went the taller the hills grew, which was quite confusing for those of us who had only ever spent time on the east coast where the main sign of approaching the ocean is the flattening land. The trees gave way to an open valley, and we came upon our first stop.

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TILLAMOOK

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We arrived in Tillamook exhausted, astounded, and absolutely starving.

Each of those factors charitably contributed to the shared feeling that the lunch we had at Pelican Brewing was one of the best meals ever. We split cheese curds and sat in the sunshine sipping local beers and breathing in the cool coastal air, taking in everything with wonder and gratitude.

When we finished our divine dinner, we did some grocery shopping in town and then trekked on toward the edge of America.

We found our Airbnb frozen in time, looking over the ocean, a 70’s paradise. The photos we had seen of it before didn’t even compare to how lovely it was in person. Its crowning features were the 70’s style conversation platform (like a conversation pit, but raised instead of lowered) complete

with a fireplace suspended from the ceiling, and a wraparound porch from which you could see, hear, and feel the ocean’s proximity. We settled in a little before loading back in the car to head to the beach and spent the evening watching the sun slip down behind the waves. After a long dreamy day, we went to bed and I finally got to catch up on all the rest I missed out on the night before.

We took the next morning slow, catching our breath and enjoying the sea breeze from the porch. Our first official activity of the trip was a visit to the Tillamook Creamery. I had no idea what to expect, but it turned out to be an extremely delightful adventure. We had some delicious food from the cafe, enjoying various cheeses and dairy products made at the creamery, and then made our way inside for a self-guided tour. From the observation

deck, we watched various stages of the cheese-making process below, like a live episode of How It’s Made. We rounded out our experience with a stop in the gift shop, stocking up on Tillamook souvenirs, and then back to the cafe to finish off with some Tillamook ice cream.

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After the creamery, we had our first drive-through coffee stand experience and stopped at the local Goodwill. I was ecstatic to find a nice coat; I had packed for the weather but wasn’t prepared for the freezing coastal winds. I put my new coat to use immediately as we made our way back to the coast to visit the Cape Meares lighthouse. Walking through the evergreens to the rocky cliff overlooking the churning sea felt like Twilight meets Moonrise Kingdom. The freezing wind rushing up from the water made me extremely grateful for my newly thrifted coat.

After our visit to the lighthouse, we reconvened at the Airbnb and tried — for way too long— to decide on what to do for dinner.

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We finally (hangrily) decided to try out a small pizza joint in town. Upon entry, we quickly realized it was definitely more of a hole-in-the-wall bar than a pizza restaurant and were met with lingering stares by the locals. Mere minutes after we walked in, before we were even seated, we noticed that one of the patrons had begun choking and we rushed to notify the staff. We could do nothing but stand there in horrified shock as paramedics were called and CPR was attempted multiple times. The minutes passed too slowly. Everyone stood out of the way as the paramedics

arrived and were able to clear the woman’s airway. It was around that time that we decided to leave out the back door to give more room to the people who needed it. We took a quiet car ride back to the grocery store, all of us trying to process the horrific event we had just witnessed. After our close encounter with tragedy, we decided it was safest to not try any other local restaurants, and grabbed some frozen pizzas and headed home.

We had a quiet night in, still recovering from shock, and all hugged each other a little tighter that night.

The next morning we said sad goodbyes to our beautiful Airbnb, loaded up the rental, and had coffee and bagels in a parking lot overlooking the beach. This was the day we were driving down the coast, but we started out in the wrong direction, heading north to view the site of Bayocean.

Bayocean Park used to be a booming resort town, but is now known as the town that fell into the sea. The entire town had been reclaimed by the ocean over the course of the 1900’s and all that was left for us to see was dunes and brush in a barren peninsula.

Aside from a few markers that told the tale, there was nothing left of the town that used to be called the Atlantic City of the West.

After our northernmost stop, we began our descent. We followed highway 101 all the way down the coast, the ocean hugging my passenger side window the entire way. We

made stops at various sites like Cape Kiwanda and The Devil’s Punchbowl, passing coastal town after coastal town, bridge after bridge. The Oregon coast culture was completely unique from anything I’d ever seen.

Pockets of civilization huddled together by the coast and in between was almost nothing, not even cell service. Every town had drive-through coffee stands, and every town felt like the past. It was like the Oregon coast had been settled in the 70’s and been since untouched.

Everywhere left us feeling nostalgic for a time we had never seen. In between every town was unbound nature, indescribable beauty. I usually like to use my transit time to edit pictures or catch up on things, but I spent the entire day like a child with my nose pressed to the window, every minute falling more and more in love with the Oregon coast.

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GOLD BEACH

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We took our time that day, the sun slowly setting over the sea as we drove, and arrived at our next location in the dark. The first thing I noticed when we got to our Airbnb was a copy of Sonder (that’s right, this magazine) on the coffee table!

And trust me when I say— the positives of that Airbnb only went up from there. We awoke the next morning and got a better look at our new residence, a retro house with updated finishes nestled in the hills above Gold Beach overlooking the entire town and the ocean beyond.

Our schedule for our stay in Gold Beach was loose, and thanks to my incredibly inconvenient back pains being significantly worse that day, we decided to take it slow. We made the short drive into town and stopped at Sunset Family Pizza for some takeaway lunch - a pizza restaurant experience that was significantly less eventful than our first attempt. We made the slightly longer drive to the Samuel H. Boardman State Scenic Corridor, found a picnic table by the beach, and enjoyed our pizza with priceless views. The

weather was breezy and sunny, absolutely perfect. We split off and wandered the beach, each of us exploring the driftwood, tide pools, and seagulls at our own leisure. I wanted to take in every single drop— the way the dark sand sparkled in the sun, the seagulls bathing in the shallow stream left by low tide, the little pools of life surrounding the boulders in the sand.

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We reconvened and made our way to an overlook above the beach. We took some photos and admired the view from the top, then something caught my eye in the bushes below. I wandered over to find a stack of picture frames, some old looking, some newer looking, tossed in the bushes.

I didn’t see any photographs in them, I didn’t touch them, but I still ponder that curious sight. While investigating the frames, I noticed that the small footpath I had ventured down wound through the bushes and into the woods. I followed it and found myself in another dimension. I walked through evergreens like a portal and found myself amongst a powerful stillness. The forest floor was padded with pine needles and the dense trees stifled any passing breezes. I stood there in disbelief, unable to raise my voice above a whisper in fear of disturbing the sanctity. This evergreen grove tucked away behind a scenic overview held me in awe. I don’t know if it was magic or just a culmination of everything, but I will never forget it.

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We ventured a little further down the coast to the town of Brookings and, after seeing Dutch Bros. coffee stalls scattered all over Oregon, we made our first Dutch Bros. stop.

It was so good that that stop became the first of many. On our way back up toward Gold Beach, we stopped at one of the most iconically photographed points of the area, the natural bridges. We looked on upon ant-sized hikers as turquoise waves lapped the shore of the lagoon below. We debated hiking down the hillside and crossing the bridges, but after assessing our physical states

and footwear, we decided against it. With our evening plans being wide open, we decided to reconvene at the Airbnb, have some snacks, and make the short drive back to the natural bridges closer to sunset to try and catch some different light. Upon return, however, the overcast evening made sure everything looked the same as our first visit, and there was no spectacular sunset to be seen that day.

Still, we stood mesmerized by the stunning sight until it was dark, then called it a day after a home cooked pasta dinner.

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After a good night’s rest, mind, body, and soul were ready for the Redwoods. We stopped in town at Mystic Donuts for some delicious breakfast, then headed to California. On our way down, we stopped at one of the overlooks in the Samuel H. Boardman State Scenic Corridor that we had missed the day before. We looked out over yellow flowers at an ocean the exact shade of a sea green color swatch. We continued on and barely noticed when we crossed the state line. As rural Oregon gave way to rural California, the hazy mountains and stretching fields were about as far from any idea of California that you might conjure. We traveled nearly alone down the two lane highway past fingertip towns and abandoned boat-shaped museums. And then we found the trees.

Our first stop was the visitor center where we stocked up on t-shirts and bumper stickers. My phone happened to find it’s first bar of service since Oregon, and I noticed several missed calls, texts, and messages from our Airbnb hosts. It was at this moment, hours away from our Airbnb and the rest of our things, phone barely clinging to it’s one bar, that I realized I had made the mistake of booking the place for one night less than I meant to.

I stood in the drizzling rain in the one parking spot that seemed to get my messages through, on the verge of tears trying to sort out this simple mistake that could have easily turned into a massive problem.

But luck was on our side that day. Our hosts were quick

and kind and the Airbnb hadn’t been booked for that night. Our things were safe, our day was saved, and that lovely Airbnb was ours for one more night.

From the visitor center, we followed gravel roads deeper into the ever ascending forest.

A silence cloaked us as we peered through the rental’s sunroof at the giants looming stories above. We parked at Stout’s Grove and began wandering the trails carved between the unbelievable trees like ants through grass.

Scarce a word was uttered as we ventured in pure awe at the inconceivable magnificence. I had seen pictures, I had read descriptions, but upon seeing the magnitude of these trees with my own eyes, I realized nothing that my tiny brain had imagined could even come close. The intensity of the trees stilled the air and years of collecting needles softened every footstep. The energy was different here. Ancient.

Reverent.

Time felt completely lost, so it could have been minutes or years that we drove through the forest in total silence, save for the wordless music playing through the aux. In these moments, I forgot about the months upon months spent inside, spent terrified. I felt the crushing dread loosen its grip for the first time since I heard the whispers of pandemic.

Even the stress du jour of the Airbnb crisis from mere hours earlier had long since melted.

The forest around me was older than most civilizations and in its presence I met its tenacity. This is where I finally felt it again. Hope.

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Our drive through the forest brought us to our first actual hike of the entire trip, and thankfully my back was finally feeling up to the task. We hiked through sideways blown bushes and tunnels of trees down the hillside to Enderts Beach. Save for one or two hikers we encountered on the way, a few seagulls occasionally taking to the wind, and pink starfish clinging to the rocks above the tide pools, we were alone on the beach that day.

We once again disbanded to explore the beach at our own leisure. I had never seen so many starfish before, and I played a game of counting as many as I could.

While my sister and her husband rifled among the tide pools and my boyfriend wandered to the edge of the beach to explore the jutting rocks, I climbed my way onto a boulder and sat looking over everything, taking it all in. Everything. The beach, the forest, the trip, the pandemic.

Every place I had been and every place I hadn’t, every triumph and every tragedy, every choice and every thing that happened brought me to this moment. I only had one day left in Oregon, and S ON D ER · 81

then, well, who knows. The air was heavy with salt and all I felt was gratitude. So many moments spent stifled in my home wondering what was the point of it all. I felt it here, in the waves dancing, in the gulls flying, in the majesty of the trees, in the sweat on my skin.

I didn’t know anything more, I didn’t have anything figured out, but I felt alive again. I felt hopeful.

Our last day in Oregon was spent driving back to Portland.

We debated taking the inland route through Eugene and central Oregon, but none of us were quite ready to part with the coast. We retraced our steps one little coastal town at a time, making sure to stop at a couple of the Dutch Bros. we had missed on the way down. I don’t think any of us regretted that decision - we got second glances at the things that had flashed by the first time, we got new views from opposite sides of the car, and we got the ocean. I never before in my life considered myself to be an “ocean person” but the PNW abruptly changed that for me.

The drive was just as beautiful the second time, and my nose stayed pressed to the glass just the same.

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PORTLAND / HOME

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We arrived in the Portland suburbs that evening and decided to spend the night in. We DoorDashed some gourmet mac n’ cheese and prepared for our big journey home the next day. Our flight was in the afternoon, so we started off our morning with some Proud Mary Coffee Roasters coffee and breakfast at socially distanced picnic tables.

Spring was at its pinnacle and the neighborhood streets were filled with blooming dogwoods and wisteria, the sidewalks drenched in pink cherry blossom petals. Our final activity in Oregon might seem a little anticlimactic, but its proximity to the airport paired with its lack of locations anywhere near where we live made Ikea the perfect last stop.

It was also my boyfriend’s first Ikea experience, so we made the rounds, grabbed some Swedish meatballs at the food market counter, and shared our last meal in our beloved rental car in the Ikea parking lot. Then we said goodbye to Oregon.

Real life hit like a hurricane.

It didn’t take long for me to start missing the lack of cell service that shrouded the Oregon coast, that vacation freedom. As soon as the wheels hit the ground my life took a lot of crazy turns and I tried as hard as I could to cling to that time of peace, reflection, and wonder. Many months leading up to that trip felt like a suffocating darkness, but being

able to step out of the tedium of the day to day granted me a new clarity. Within days of returning I put in my twoweeks notice and embarked on a major career shift. A lot of things in my life have looked different ever since. But isn’t that what travel is about— a shifted perspective? Every trip changes us in a way, positive or negative. Every time we travel we learn something new, about a culture, about life, about ourselves.

After living so long in this new unprecedented reality where travel was rendered nearly non-existent, I had become terrified of doing it again. I was terrified of the virus, I was terrified that I’d fail, I was terrified that it wouldn’t feel like it used to. But in greater darkness, even the dimmest light shines brighter. I found that after so much anguish, my capacity to appreciate only grew. It spread to the leaves, the sunlight, the salty air, even to myself. Maybe some of my fears came true and some terrible things happened that I never could have planned for, but we made it through and came out the other side better for it. I not only feel gratitude for the highs, but for the mediums as well, even for the lows. The lessons we take away from travel can change our entire worlds, and often do. It’s all part of it, and always will be.

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LIVE, TRAVEL, ADVENTURE, BLESS, AND DON’T BE SORRY. -Jack Kerouac

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SONDER

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows