Visiting Durham

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My hometown of Durham, N.C. is a great place to visit, especially if you’re retired and have more time to explore its bountiful pleasures.

The city’s marketing agency, Discover Durham, asked me to explain to fellow retirees why they should travel here. They just published my article, which you can read below or online on Discover Durham’s excellent website.

We’ll be expecting you.

A Retiree’s Guide to Exploring Durham

Retirees don’t need to move to Durham to enjoy its many pleasures. Durham is also a great destination for retired travelers.

POSTED BY DAVID JARMUL ON JUN 24, 2024

I moved to Durham in 2001 for a job at Duke University. I retired early to travel and serve abroad in the Peace Corps with my wife, but we then returned and have happily remained here since. Durham is regularly listed among the best places to retire in the United States.

You don’t need to move here to enjoy its many attractions. Older visitors can spend several pleasant days or weeks exploring Durham’s historic sites, hiking trails, restaurants and fun opportunities to spoil grandchildren. For visitors of a certain age, Durham is certain to provide a great experience.

Elderly visitors stroll down Cherry Alleé at Sarah P. Duke Gardens in Durham.
There are plenty of beautiful outdoor places for retirees to explore in Durham. Photo: Discover Durham

EXPLORE HISTORIC SITES

Durham has a fascinating history, spanning the rise and fall of the tobacco industry, civil rights struggles and the emergence of a vibrant modern city with a proud reputation for diversity and tolerance. Durham has produced great musicians, artists, scientists, entrepreneurs and athletes. Especially if you’ve spent most of your life in another part of the country, as I did, a visit here may lead you to reconsider your regional assumptions and broaden your perspective.

You have lots of great history options:

  • The downtown Museum of Durham History is small but impressive, rotating exhibits that highlight everything from Durham’s changing restaurant scene to the story of the Duffer brothers, the Durham natives who created the hit Netflix series “Stranger Things.”
  • One block away is the majestic Carolina Theatre, with historical exhibits in an elegant lobby. The exhibits sparked a great conversation with my grandsons while we waited for a movie to begin upstairs.
  • Across town is Bennett Place, where the Civil War’s largest troop surrender occurred. That’s right; this occurred in Durham, not at Appomattox, which is what I’d thought, too.
  • Numerous sites around town highlight African American history. Historic Stagville includes remnants of a large plantation, including slave quarters. The Hayti Heritage Center has exhibits, programs and concerts. Black Wall Street was a thriving African American business center during the Jim Crow era.
  • Duke Homestead tells the story of tobacco, with a museum, a curing shed and opportunities for grandparents and kids to ride tobacco wagons together.
Two visitors walk through a field in front of one of the buildings at Historic Stagville.
Learn about Durham’s history at Historic Stagville. Photo: Discover Durham

HAVE FUN WITH GRANDCHILDREN

Speaking of grandchildren, if yours live in Durham, they may already know the popular Museum of Life + Science. While you’re in town, let them show you their favorite spots, from the Dinosaur Trail to the glass conservatory filled with butterflies. You’ll feel like a kid yourself.

A group of children and adults hang out on the boardwalk at the Museum of Life and Science in Durham.
Enjoy a stroll on the boardwalk with the grandkids at The Museum of Life + Science. Photo: Museum of Life + Science / Discover Durham

Another favorite for grandparents is the Duke Lemur Center, a research facility with the largest population of lemurs outside their native Madagascar. You’ll need a reservation to stroll its 100 acres and see more than 200 lemurs. If you have a large family group, you can book a private group tour. Youngsters will be thrilled to watch these distinctive creatures leap through the trees. You will be, too.

An adult lemur sits in their habitat with two baby lemurs on their back at the Duke Lemur Center in Durham, NC
The Duke Lemur Center is an exciting attraction for adults and children alike. Photo: Discover Durham

Also on the Duke campus are the Sarah P. Duke Gardens, among the most beautiful in the South. There’s nothing better than strolling with grandkids along its gentle trails, with stops at the koi pond and Japanese bridge. Nearby is Duke’s main campus and must-see Duke Chapel.

Durham offers many ways to enjoy time with youngsters, from a downtown skate park to ice cream shops. Check out the Family Fun page for suggestions.

EXPLORE THE CULTURAL SCENE

Durham’s lively cultural scene is much less expensive and easier to navigate than many others on your retirement bucket list. The Durham Performing Arts Center (DPAC) hosts Broadway shows and other world-class performances. The Carolina Theatre also has live shows, along with movies and events. My wife and I also enjoy local theater groups, such as the Bulldog Ensemble Theater, which stages shows next to the Hi-Wire Brewery. When we go there, we park for free, enjoy a great show and have a beer outside for less than half of what we would have spent on a single Broadway ticket.

Visitors walk in front of the Carolina Theatre in downtown Durham.
The Carolina Theatre always has something interesting to see beyond its doors. Photo: HuthPhoto / Carolina Theatre

Durham’s musical legacy spans every musical genre. There’s an especially active jazz scene, at venues such as Missy Lane’s Assembly Room and the Sharp Nine Gallery. You’ll also find live performances of bluegrass, folk and other genres. During warmer months, there are free concerts in Central Park, Duke Gardens and other outdoor sites. Check out the Events Calendar for upcoming performances, which include diverse events for members of the LGTBQIA community.

Art lovers might start a Durham visit at the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University. It has an excellent permanent collection, leading-edge exhibitions and a lovely cafe, all within an architecturally acclaimed building. Elsewhere, visit the artist studios at Golden Belt’s converted textile factory, exhibits at the Durham Arts Council and other venues. This online arts guide has suggestions.

Head to the Nasher Museum of Art to see both permanent installations and temporary exhibitions. Photo: Discover Durham 

If possible, time your visit to coincide with one of Durham’s big arts festivals, such as the Full Frame Documentary Film Festival, the American Dance Festival, the OutSouth Queer Film Festival or the Hayti Heritage Film Festival. You’ll meet plenty of fellow older enthusiasts.

GET BACK TO NATURE

If you have a tote bag saying “hiking is my retirement plan,” bring it to Durham. You may need it while exploring Durham’s many hiking and biking trails. Eno River State Park has several great trails and hosts an epic music festival every July. There are great hiking paths in the university’s Duke Forest and along the American Tobacco Trail, whose wide, paved paths are a great choice for anyone with mobility constraints.

Water cascades over the dam at West Point on the Eno during a warm summer day.
With both drive-up and hike-in views, Eno River State Park is enjoyable for everyone looking to experience the outdoors. Photo: Discover Durham

For water sports, take a short drive to Jordan Lake or Lake Michie to rent kayaks and canoes. Local companies offer paddle trips and other outings.

If golf is your retirement passion, check out Durham’s ten courses. Other recreational options abound, even including fencing, curling and axe-throwing.

The Washington Duke Inn stands tall in the backdrop over the golf course in Durham, NC.
Enjoy quality accommodation and a relaxing game of golf at The Washington Duke Inn & Golf Club. Photo: Washington Duke Inn & Golf Club

CHEER FOR OUR TEAMS

If you’re looking for something less taxing, Durham Bulls, the minor league baseball team made famous in the movie with Kevin Costner and Susan Sarandon. I like going on nights when they have a fireworks show after the game.

A group of children sit together at the Durham Bulls Athletic Park.
Take the grandkids out to the ball game at the Durham Bulls Athletic Park. Photo: Samantha Everette

College basketball is a local passion, with men’s and women’s teams at both Duke and North Carolina Central Universities. Duke’s Blue Devils often sell out but you may find tickets online and you can visit the Hall of Fame at Cameron Indoor Stadium for free. There is a full array of other college sports as well.

EAT, DRINK AND BE DURHAM

If all of this whets your appetite for a retirement visit to Durham, you can satisfy your hunger with almost any cuisine, from food trucks to fine dining. Whether you crave traditional North Carolina barbecue or farm-to-table gastronomy, you’ll find it in Durham, whose chefs have been honored with national awards. Some local restaurants offer senior specials.

My wife and I are especially partial to international cuisines. Some of our favorites include Korean food at Namu, Salvadorean at El Custcatleco, Japanese at any of Michael Lee’s “M” restaurants (M Sushi, M Tempura, M Pocha and M Kokko) and Ethiopian at Goorsha. But we like many other places, too, and our list is always changing.

A group of elderly men and women enjoy a meal at Juju Durham.
Enjoy delicious Japanese inspired small plates at Juju Durham. Photo: Jessie Gladdek

See this Food & Drink Guide to learn more and order a Craft Beverage Guide for ideas about where to find creative cocktails and breweries. Durham also has a lively farmers’ market and international shops where you can buy products ranging from African spices to Indian samosas.

YOU MAY DECIDE TO STAY

I’m warning you. If you come to Durham for a visit, you may like it so much that you decide to retire here. With its mild climate, strong economy, world-class medical institutions and great shopping, Durham attracts lots of retirees. They find a welcoming community with attractions ranging from pickleball to the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at Duke.

Come take a look.

David Jarmul was the head of news and communications at Duke University for many years before retiring early and starting a popular blog, Not Exactly Retired. He and his wife, Champa, are active in the Durham community.

Our Election ‘Plan B’

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I wouldn’t exist today and you wouldn’t be reading this article if my maternal grandparents hadn’t had the foresight to flee Nazi Germany for New York in 1937, narrowly escaping the Holocaust.

Until recently, this was just part of my family history. But as the election approaches and darkness looms on the horizon, I’ve begun wondering whether it’s a cautionary tale.

My mother’s German passport, with Nazi swastikas on the stamp.

I’m not alone. I recently received the e-mail message shown above, with the title “How to Move Out of the US (and Where to Escape to).” It began: “If you’re anything like me, you’re looking at the election year ahead with some trepidation. And who can blame you? Things could go sideways—politically, economically, socially. It’s not a crazy idea to have a Plan B. In fact, it’s prudent.”

The message came from International Living, which helps older Americans relocate to “safe, warm, friendly spots abroad.” Costa Rica, Portugal and Mexico top its current list of “the best countries to retire,” based on living costs, healthcare and other criteria.

My fears about things “going sideways” don’t reach the horrific level of the Holocaust but they’re bad enough that I don’t want to live through them. Am I being melodramatic? Maybe. I hope so. I know I’m privileged to even consider leaving the country and I recognize the need to fight for my beliefs. I have children and grandchildren, along with countless fellow Americans, who can’t leave as easily.

But my anxiety is real and, unrelated to politics, Champa and I were already discussing how we might spend more time abroad. We love to travel and have been fortunate to visit some amazing places, as I’ve chronicled on this blog. However, except when we served as older Peace Corps Volunteers in Moldova, or while visiting our family in Nepal, we’ve generally passed through countries as tourists rather than slowing down to truly experience them.

That’s what we’d like to do now, traveling more slowly and deliberately, while we’re still relatively young and healthy. As I wrote back in November, “I’m determined to make the most of this precious ‘not exactly retired’ stage of my life when I no longer have the responsibilities of a formal job but am still able to contribute and thrive.”

A retirement focused on travel may sound crazy, dangerous, self-indulgent or extravagant to some. But it’s become common, as I’ve seen from numerous websites, videos, online groups, books and other sources, including conversations with people we’ve met on the road.

It can also be far cheaper than you might imagine. Brian and Carrie, one of our favorite Internet couples, shown above, spent $29,728 for all of their travel and living costs in 2023. That’s $1,238 monthly each, living in Airbnbs and elsewhere in Spain, Portugal, Croatia and other parts of Europe. They later moved on to Southeast Asia.

We’re also fans of Debbie and Michael Campbell, the Senior Nomads, who have stayed in Airbnbs in 90 countries since leaving their Seattle home in 2013. “We weren’t sure how long we’d be gone,” they write on their website. “Now, over ten years later, we still aren’t sure! But as long as we are learning every day, having fun, are close to our budget, have our health, and are still in love, we’ll keep going.”  

Debbie and Michael’s Facebook group has nearly 14,000 members who share travel tips, swap stories and encourage each other. An even bigger Facebook group is Budget Slow Travel in Retirement, whose 68,000+ members discuss everything from medical insurance to the best ways to keep in touch with grandchildren. 

Brian and Carrie’s YouTube series addresses many of these questions while highlighting destinations from Greece to Vietnam. Other good YouTube sites include Kara and Nate and Earth Vagabonds, which targets “slow travel for retired budget travelers.”

Another travel inspiration is Nomadic Matt, whose blog I’ve followed for years and whose book Ten Years a Nomad I just finished reading. Champa’s reading it now. Matt is younger than us but spent ten years traveling to more than 100 countries and territories. He now offers a variety of guides and products on his website.

I don’t foresee us ever leaving our family, friends and community for good. We’d return regularly, remain connected electronically and keep America in our hearts. But spending a significant part of our time in Nepal and elsewhere over the next four years might be our best way of coping with a post-election nightmare.

Mark Twain famously wrote that travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness —  the very forces I now see threatening my homeland. I’ll never stop loving America but I also want to live my life and embrace the world. 

I recognize my planning may come across as selfish or apocalyptic to some readers. My grandparents probably heard the same thing.

Heartfelt thanks to everyone who responded to my previous post about our project to help build a new school in Nepal. Sixty donors have contributed $12,811. That’s more than halfway to our goal but we still need more help. If you haven’t already, please donate on our GoFundMe site or, to avoid their fees, contact me directly. All donors will have their names honored in the new school. Thank you!

A School for Samalbung

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[See our GoFundMe site for updates and a Q&A about this project. Thanks to your generous support, the school is taking shape. We are grateful to everyone who has donated!]

Readers and friends: Champa and I are building a school in a remote area of eastern Nepal and we ask for your help.

The school is in Samalbung, the small village we visited with our family in late 2022. (Watch the video after 8:33.) Our nephew Santosh, whose late mother was Champa’s sister, lives there with his family. Several years ago, he and his partners created a barebones school to serve local children, who are mainly from indigenous groups and farming families with very limited means. As you can see, the kids are inspiring but their school is in bad shape.

They and their teachers (above) need a new school, desperately. Champa and I have committed to paying for most of the cost of a new one but we need tens of thousands of dollars more to finish the project, which has just gotten under way (see below). With additional funds, we can also provide new desks, school supplies and maybe even computers, a cafeteria or sports equipment.

Champa and I are doing this informally, with a GoFundMe campaign, rather than through a formal charity. We trust Santosh and his partners and are monitoring the project with the assistance of one of Nepal’s leading human rights attorneys.

Your support will change the lives of the children shown here and their brothers and sisters. When the school is finished, hopefully within a year, I’ll be sure it highlights the names of everyone who helped. 

You can contribute through GoFundMe or contact me directly (as some donors have preferred, to avoid GoFundMe’s fees). Thank you for anything you can afford to contribute!

Amazing but False

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Whether it’s voting results, vaccines or space lasers, many Americans cling to dramatic stories long after they’re shown to be nonsense.

As I saw during our recent trip to Portugal, Americans are not alone. People everywhere prefer a good story to a factual one.

Two of our guides there told us the same amazing, but false, story. When I questioned them about it, one guide avoided the conversation and the other told me I was ruining his narration. They undoubtedly found me annoying even though I was right.

The story involved Portugal’s high rate of divorce. Daniel, our guide in the university town of Coimbra, shown above, said 94 percent of married couples got divorced during the Covid pandemic. Wait a minute, I thought to myself, 23 or 24 of every 25 married couples got divorced? That couldn’t possibly be true, no matter how stressed out people were from Covid.

“Are you sure that’s right?” I asked Daniel quietly.

“Oh, yes,” he responded confidently. “I saw it on television. Portugal has a really high divorce rate. It’s a big problem for us.”

I’m sure it is, but 94 percent? My BS Detector, which I cultivated during my career as a science writer, began blaring in my head.

I lagged behind the group, pulled out my phone and checked the facts. Portugal’s 94% “divorce rate” was an actual statistic but not what Daniel and our subsequent guide in the Douro Valley wine region said it meant, namely that 94 percent of couples got divorced.

Instead, it was a comparison of the total number of divorces to the total number of marriages in a given year. During the pandemic, divorces rose while marriages declined, so the ratio climbed to 94 percent. The odds that a specific couple would divorce, however, remained much lower.

Sure enough, after the pandemic ended, Portugal’s divorce-marriage ratio decreased dramatically to normal levels.

As we continued walking, I whispered to Daniel that I had uncovered the discrepancy and could explain it to him after the tour ended. He gave me a tight smile and, as soon as everyone dispersed, he left.

Our Douro Valley guide, Carlos, couldn’t escape since we were in a car together. After he told the same story, he had no choice but to listen to my brief explanation of what “94 percent” actually measured. Carlos laughed that he still preferred his version even though it wasn’t true.

I knew I was coming across as a know-it-all American retiree.  But having spent much of my career assessing scientific claims before agreeing to write about them, I’ve developed a sixth sense about statistics being misused. I’ve written or edited countless articles about research findings and consider accuracy more essential than popularity, even when my wife reminds me we’re on vacation.

This all happened two weeks ago but I’ve kept wondering about it, even though it’s hard to imagine anything that affects my own life less than Portugal’s divorce rate.

Am I just being a mansplaining jerk? Or did this episode highlight something deeper about human behavior that informs the situation we face here in America? As I’ve tuned in again to our angry political controversies and “fake news” accusations, with politicians peddling scary anecdotes that misrepresent larger realities, much of it sounds to me like the Portugal divorce story — catchy, unnerving but wrong.

I’m not sure what to think. For now I’m assessing my own uncertainty level at 94 percent. I’m also keeping my BS Detector turned on. 

Portugal Chill

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Chill, with hills.

That was our trip to Portugal: beautiful sights, good food, friendly people, relatively inexpensive and easy to like — if you don’t mind walking up and down hills.

Champa and I traveled there with our friends Karen and Bob after touring Morocco, where our packed itinerary took us from urban bazaars to a tent camp in the Sahara Desert. We figured we could relax once we got to Portugal.

That’s what we did, although “relax” is relative when it comes to Bob and me, the travel planners, who both tend to load activities into itineraries. In Portugal, we would stay in three cities — Lisbon, Coimbra and Porto. We vowed to slow down by orienting ourselves in each one with a free walking tour and then wandering on our own. 

As I’ve written previously, I love these tours since the guides are highly motivated to do a great job. In Portugal, we booked five tours altogether, including three in Lisbon. Four of them were with Sandeman’s, which I’d used in Brussels, Amsterdam, Edinburgh and Dublin. Once again, they were excellent and we tipped our guides accordingly.

We started in Lisbon, staying in an Airbnb in the artsy Bairro Alto neighborhood. The famous Tram 28, which winds through the city, rumbled below our window. Our apartment owner was a professional designer, and his place was filled with paintings, sculptures and art books. It was like living inside Architectural Digest, although we lacked some functional things like a latch to the bathroom and places to put our suitcases. Still, we enjoyed it, including the neighborhood fish restaurant downstairs.

Our Uber driver from the airport was from Nepal. So was our waiter at the breakfast restaurant the next morning. There was a Nepalese restaurant up the street. They were all surprised when I started talking Nepali, much less seeing me with Champa.

We timed our Lisbon visit to coincide with the 50th anniversary of Portugal’s Carnation Revolution, when a military coup toppled the fascist dictatorship of António Salazar. People filled the streets holding red carnations. They cheered as aging former coup members waved from old military vehicles. Given what’s been happening in our own country, the four of us felt like cheering, too, as we watched people reaffirm their commitment to democracy.

Back in the 15th and 16th centuries, the Portuguese were at the forefront of European exploration. They were the first to reach India by sea, settled what became Brazil and established trading posts in Asia and Africa. Despite its small size, Portugal became one of the world’s most powerful countries, as we saw celebrated at the tomb of Vasco da Gama and at Lisbon’s “Monument of the Discoveries.” It’s a fascinating but complicated legacy.

Our second stop was Coimbra, known for its great universities, which we visited as students prepared for graduation in black robes that reminded me of both Harry Potter and the many graduations I attended at Duke. We also went to a concert of fado music, the melancholic genre featuring mournful songs and guitars.

Then we continued north to the Douro Valley, with its stunning scenery and wineries, and Porto, the country’s second largest city. Since there were four of us, we hired cars and drivers instead of riding the trains. It cost only a bit more and proved much more convenient. We were picked up and dropped off everywhere and could stop along the way at the castles of Óbidos, the Batalha Monastery and the “Little Venice” town of Aveiro, among other places.

Oh, yes, the hills. I wrote recently that my experience in Nepal has made me smug about “mountains” around the world. Portugal’s highest mountain, Mount Pico, is a mere 7,713 feet, just over a quarter of Mount Everest’s height. But “hills” are a different story. Portugal has them everywhere, reminding me of San Francisco. They were a great way to walk off some of the pastries we ate, from Portugal’s famous pastel de nata tarts to regional delicacies such as Aveiro’s ovos moles.

Looking back, I guess we were busier than “chill, with hills.” Let’s just say that Portugal left us feeling elevated.

Circling Morocco

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Morocco fascinated us when we visited last month on a 10-day clockwise trip from Casablanca to Marrakech. Here are ten things I’ll remember about this distinctive country in northwestern Africa.

The desert. We spent two unforgettable nights in the Erg Chebbi dunes of the Sahara, where we traveled atop camels. We had our own comfortable tent and delicious food, but we also had wind whipping our tent at night and camels grunting nearby. The next morning we visited local nomads and gazed on an endless horizon. Our American lives felt very far away. 

Amazing sights. Chefchaouen is Morocco’s Blue City. It has narrow streets and busy souks, but what captivates you are its blue walls and steps. Several hours away is Fez , which is much larger and browner, with bustling bazaars and one of the king’s many palaces. We also saw stone “monkey toes” in a mountain gorge, Roman ruins, roads snaking across mountainsides and much more

Natural beauty. Even more than the “sights,” we loved the land itself — the wildflowers, olive trees, wheat fields and fruit orchards. If you think of Morocco as just dry and dusty, you’re in for a pleasant surprise. It is strikingly diverse, with deserts and beach resorts, cities and farms, nomads and technology parks.

Islam. Morocco is also a place of religious moderation. Almost all of its people are Sunni Muslims, and there are mosques everywhere, with a welcoming, tolerant vibe. We toured the Bou Inania Madrasa, or religious school, in Fez and marveled at the beautiful Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, the second largest functioning mosque in Africa.

Handicrafts. We watched artisans build furniture, cure leather, weave rugs, assemble mosaics and paint ceramics. We admired their jewelry, clothing and tiles. Even though we didn’t buy much (we rarely do), Morocco is a shopper’s paradise.

Local markets. We loved wandering among the fruit stalls, spice shops and bakeries of everyday life. One image I shared online, which you can see above, shows a woman chopping meat as cats walk on her table. My friend who is an infectious disease expert at Duke responded in mock horror. He was right, but it was still interesting to see.

Movie sets. Lawrence of Arabia, Homeland, Game of Thrones and other productions have all shot scenes in Morocco. We visited Ouarzazate, a town between the Sahara desert and the Atlas Mountains that locals call Ouallywood. It offers exotic sets and everything else filmmakers might need.

Climate change. As we’ve discovered elsewhere, a good way to learn about global climate change is by actually visiting other parts of the globe. Morocco was no exception. Local nomads and others told us how drought has forced them to move. The photo on the left shows a town that is now largely abandoned.

Superb hotels and food. We stayed in beautiful places across Morocco but none were Western-style hotels. Morocco specilizes in traditional riads — small, distinctive and personal, with great breakfasts. We arranged everything with Best Travel Morocco, a local company that did a great job for less money than we would have paid a U.S.-based operator for a group tour with a similar itinerary.

Excellent companions. We explored Morocco with two old friends, Bob and Karen Simon, with whom we connected in Casablanca. The four of us traveled in a comfortable SUV with the private driver/guide provided by Best Travel. Mustafa took great care of us — explaining everything, making us laugh and guiding us to barbecue restaurants and other spots off the tourist trail. He also had a great Spotify playlist of local artists. Even without their music, Morocco made our hearts sing.

You Call These Mountains?

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When I visited the Andes and Patagonia’s rugged landscape recently, I said the same thing as when I first saw the Grand Tetons: 

“You call these mountains?”

They were spectacular but I couldn’t resist pointing out they were much lower than the Himalayas of Nepal, where I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer 47 years ago and have returned regularly since marrying Champa. I still speak Nepali, am close to our family there and think of Nepal as my second home.

Like many converts, I’ve become a zealot, in my case about Nepal’s status as the home of the world’s highest mountain, Everest, and eight of the top ten overall. I promote them even when I should be praising others.

As you can see from these photos from our trip last month, the mountains of Argentina and Chile are actually stunning. I was spellbound by the snow-covered peaks of Patagonia. When we drove across the Andes from Argentina to Chile, the views were magnificent, such as at Bariloche, below.

The same was true of the Alps when Champa and I hiked there on previous trips (below).

I loved the Cascades, too, when we visited Oregon recently. Despite being less than half the size of the Himalayas — Mount Rainier’s peak is 14,411 feet compared to 29,029 for Everest — they were glorious to hike or just admire from a chair (below).

It’s not like I’m a mountain climber myself, especially at this stage of my life. The highest I ever got in Nepal was 18,519 feet at Kala Patthar, overlooking the Everest base camp. That’s where summit expeditions start, not finish. I could barely walk in the thin air.

Moreover, altitude doesn’t define beauty. Nor does location. The highest peaks, like those in Nepal, can be more deadly than delightful.

Sunrise at Kanchenjunga, the world’s third-highest mountain, near Champa’s home.

My comments are just Himalayan chauvinism and, as Champa reminds me, they’re ridiculous. She glows whenever she visits mountains, whether in Nepal or elsewhere.

In comparison, I sound like a Parisian who sneers at someone else’s cuisine or a New Yorker mocking life beyond the Hudson River. It’s not a good look, so I’m confessing to it here and vowing to finally overcome it. 

In that spirit, let me now state clearly what I thought of the Andes: They were gorgeous, marvelous and impressive. 

That is, if you like hills.

(Top two photos by Nancy Collamer)

Stones of Remembrance

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I used to work near the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. I could leave my office at the National Academy of Sciences and walk across Constitution Avenue to the stark black granite wall where millions of visitors come each year to honor American servicemen and women who died in the war.

A few blocks away, the AIDS memorial quilt was spread across the Mall, each of its panels remembering someone who died. 

After I left Washington in 2001, new museums opened to remind visitors of the injustices endured by Blacks and Native Americans in our country. The Holocaust Museum commemorates the millions of murdered Jews.

So how about COVID?

More than one million Americans died during the recent pandemic, the deadliest in our nation’s history. One million. It’s understandable that we don’t yet have a national memorial to honor them and to acknowledge that many of their deaths could have been prevented. But given how politicized the pandemic became, and remains today, I wonder if we will ever do right by them.

All of this occurred to me when I visited Buenos Aires recently and was startled to see a COVID memorial directly in front of the Casa Rosada, Argentina’s White House. It’s a collection of stones, each painted with the name of someone who died. The stones surround a statue of General Manuel Belgrano, a military leader in Argentina’s war for independence. 

Argentina lost more than 100,000 people to COVID. In August 2021, hundreds of their family members and friends marched to protest the government’s handling of the pandemic. They placed the stones around the statue, creating a new memorial that’s now protected by a fence. It’s just across the Plaza de Mayo from another recent memorial, to the mothers who led a peaceful resistance movement against the military dictatorship that “disappeared” their children. Both memorials speak truth to power, side by side.

Other countries have also commemorated COVID’s victims, such as with a memorial wall in London and a forest grove in Italy. In our country, there have been memorial flags in Texas, a “drive around” in Detroit and, in 2021, a memorable display that covered the National Mall with small white flags.

I admire these and other initiatives but wish more attention was being paid to the nascent efforts in our country to produce more official remembrances of the pandemic that affected us so profoundly.

I’m not holding my breath to see a permanent memorial in Washington, especially if the upcoming election restores to power the person responsible for so many of the pandemic’s deaths. Right now, with Argentina fresh in my mind, I’d settle for a million stones across from the White House.

I didn’t go to Argentina expecting to think about COVID but I can’t get their memorial out of my mind. If Argentina, with its own deep political divisions, can do this, why can’t we?

Argentina and Chile

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I anticipated the tango dancers, wineries and Messi jerseys when Champa and I visited Argentina and Chile with my sisters and their husbands last month. I also knew that Patagonia’s glaciers, which are receding because of global warming, would still be amazing. (See my video below, which is also available on YouTube.)

However, I wasn’t quite ready for the thousand-peso notes and people obsessed with their dogs.

Both of these countries at the bottom of South America were beautiful but complicated. Argentina is savoring its recent World Cup triumph while grappling with rampant inflation and political division. Chile is more stable but still coping with the legacy of a brutal dictatorship. There’s a European vibe in both places, not to mention great steaks and wine — and all of those dogs.

We packed a lot into our 2-week itinerary, which we organized ourselves with help from an Argentine planner. We learned a lot, too.

We began in Buenos Aires, renting an Airbnb in Palermo near South America’s largest mosque. We took a city tour, then visited several places on our own, including parks, gardens and the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano, which had special exhibits about Frida Kahlo and Chilean artist Cecilia Vicuña. We traveled by international ferry one day to Colonia del Sacramento (below), where we enjoyed strolling and learning about Uruguayan history.

Next was Patagonia, whose mountains and landscapes were even more stunning than we expected. We spent a full day exploring the glaciers near El Calafate (below), by boat and on foot, and then another day hiking in El Chaltén, not far from where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid lived for several years. We also had memorable meals near a rugged, windswept hill and in a cave beside an archaeological site.

Then it was on to Bariloche, home of scenic mountain lakes, designer chocolates and Nazi war criminals. We stayed at the El Casco Art Hotel, where every room is devoted to an Argentine artist and the public spaces are filled with original paintings and sculptures.

Our final stop in Argentina was Mendoza, where we toured downtown plazas (below), visited wineries and shared a hotel with a visiting soccer team from Santiago whose boisterous fans gathered at the entrance.

Finally we traveled to Santiago, by bus so we could see local communities and the Andes Mountains. Despite some online warnings, the bus was luxurious and the border crossing manageable, with views far more interesting than we would have seen in an airport.

After arriving in Chile, we toured both Santiago and nearby Valparaiso (above), a historic port city abounding with colorful murals and street art. We rode a funicular to the top of Santiago’s San Cristóbal Hill and visited the Museum of Memory and Human Rights, which presents the grim history of the Pinochet dictatorship.

We saw a lot and could have seen more, such as Iguazu Falls and the Atacama Desert, if we’d had more time. Perhaps we should return. 

Perhaps you should visit, too, if you’re able. There’s no better place to escape winter in the northern hemisphere while immersing yourself in great history, culture, food and Malbec wines. The tango lessons and the dogs are optional.

What’s On My Plate

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I never ate tacos, ramen or a Cuban sandwich when I was growing up. I didn’t even know what they were.

By contrast, it was unremarkable the other night when Champa and I stopped for dinner and ordered fajitas and enchiladas.

It also felt routine when I cooked Thai food for dinner guests recently: basil chicken with eggplant, Pad Thai with shrimp, coconut-flavored meatballs and sticky rice with mangoes, all served with Singha beer.

Champa and I have sriracha sauce in our cupboard, mango kefir in our refrigerator and phyllo in our freezer. They’re as normal to us as Nepali food is to my sons and their families. When they visit, they look forward to eating curried chicken, lentils, vegetables and rice. The only question is whether Champa will also prepare momos, Nepal’s delicious dumplings (as she’s doing in the photo).

For them, “exotic” might be the meatloaf or chicken with canned fruit cocktail that my mother used to cook for my sisters and me.

Few things have changed as much in my lifetime as what I eat. I grew up in Freeport, Long Island, a suburban town more diverse than most of its richer neighbors. My parents were relatively worldly. Yet we rarely ate “ethnic food” and, when we did, it was pizza or American-style Chinese food. We didn’t go out to dinner much and it was usually at an Italian place where I’d eat spaghetti and meatballs. Quiche and fondue were the height of sophistication.

When I went to college in Rhode Island, my horizons expanded to include quahogs and Portuguese sweet bread. But it was only after graduation in 1975, when I backpacked around the world with a friend, that I truly began to appreciate other cuisines, from pulaos in Afghanistan to shawarma in Egypt. I still remember the Kwality Restaurant in New Delhi where I tried tandoori chicken and naan. They were so good.

My culinary awakening coincided with the broadening of American cuisine generally. From bagels to burritos, foods that were once “ethnic” became widespread. Newer foods like phở and bibimbap entered the mainstream. My daughter-in-law, whose family came from Puerto Rico, introduced me to pasteles and tostones. Now I see these around town, too. Here in Durham, a mid-size city, we have restaurants offering cuisines from Austria to Zimbabwe. Our supermarkets have aisles of international foods. We have several specialty groceries, too. 

If you’d told me when I was younger that I’d enjoy khinkali from Georgia and jerk chicken from Jamaica, I might have guessed you were talking about Atlanta and a stop on the Long Island Rail Road. Little did I know that poke, focaccia and macarons would all become part of my vocabulary. I’d witness the rise and fall of pepper-crusted tuna and molten chocolate cake. I’d buy an Instant Pot and an air fryer. I’d fall in love with Moldovan cuisine and crave Carolina barbecue as a local comfort food.

I don’t consider myself a “foodie.” I haven’t yet embraced some trends such as bubble tea and kombucha and I’ve only tried a few vegan recipes. I still enjoy an occasional burger or Subway sandwich. But I plan to keep an open mind (and mouth) about whatever comes next.

Maybe I should offer a toast to this. Maybe even with avocados.

Join us on the journey.