Hark, now hear the sailors cry

Smell the sea and feel the sky

Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

                                                                                                        Van Morrison

The Mayan Riviera in Mexico, friends, is where this wanderer has just returned from. It was a glorious five days spent with my boyfriend and his family. Where we stayed was so sparsely populated, it felt as though we had the whole place to ourselves. A wonderful dream to interrupt this endless winter. A massive pool among palm trees, swinging beds in the sun and shade, a what seemed like private beach of white sand and transparent, turquoise water, and a wrap-around balcony from our room that overlooked this bit of the Caribbean Sea, served as our very own playground for the week. Elation.

Lying on my towel, looking out at the Ocean with the sun blanketing my winter skin, and the wind in my hair, there were no honking horns, no blaring sirens, no traffic jams, crazy taxi drivers, crowded trains, crowded streets, crowded everything – there were barely any people! My eyes took in only the purest of elements – the sand, the water, and the sky. My ears heard only the sweet song of the sea and seagulls and the palms blowing in the ocean breeze. So far were my senses from New York City.

Once I had taken it all in from the beach, out into the blue I went. I die for the Ocean. Every. Single. Time. Immediately I perform the ritual where I lie on my back and float with arms outstretched and say a prayer of gratitude to the Universe, for bringing me – here. I become aware of how I have always craved this feeling that only the water can provide – weightlessness. The suspension of body in water, the cleansing of submersion, the absolute feeling of freedom from gravity release all forms of restraint, of stress, of pressure. In this space one is acutely aware that the weight of reality has dropped away, at least for me anyway. It is in this moment that I am reminded of the many other times and places, oceans that I have found myself afloat. I allowed the sea and my memories to wash over me then, and it seems a perfect story to tell.

I love the water. Maybe it is my Pisces rising, but I am a total fish and always have been. Growing up landlocked, anytime there was an opportunity to get out on the water, my soul would sing. We spent weekends at “the lake” when my parents had a speedboat. We would water ski and camp out on the beaches. Later, my family would vacation in Florida with their friends who had kids that were my best friends. Our Dads would hold our feet until it was time to swim to catch the approaching wave. It would take us higher and higher before the big drop, and we would ride with eyes wide, laughing hysterically, all the way into our Moms, who were waiting, camera ready at the water’s edge. The Atlantic was our roller coaster.

Tulum

While in the aqua waters of Tulum, I traveled back to my first trip abroad as a model to Athens, Greece. My friends and I would drive to the “beach” which consisted of cliffs, and we would lie out on the rocks before slipping into the Mediterranean Sea – the most beautiful water that I had ever seen, and it was so salty that the float was effortless. Solo, I traveled to the island of Hydra, where there were no cars, only donkeys for transportation, and went cliff diving for the first time with encouraging locals. Something I will never forget. In Santorini, I laid back into the water with the salt of my tears blending with the salt of the sea as I thanked God for my incredible good fortune. Here I was, a little girl from Indiana, watching the sunset, over a volcano, in Greece! The magic of these waters made me thirsty for more, much more.

Thailand

Lost down memory lane, I thought of my escaping hot Milanese summers by taking the train to Lombardy, Italy to Lake Como, where my friends and I would rent paddle boats to leap from, into the most beautiful lake in Europe. I wandered to the French Riviera, where I took breaks from Provencal Rosé and cruditiés in Nice, Cannes, and Saint-Tropez. I recalled the heavy weightlessness of the Indian Ocean off Thailand and Bali, eight months after the Tsunami. My mind went to the Arabian Sea on a life-changing trip to India, where that beautiful body of water taught me truth. I ventured to the special place where I learned to surf

Bali

off the Osa Peninsula, while at a yoga retreat in Costa Rica. Miraculously, I got up on my first try and will never forget that feeling, as though I was walking on water! By the end of that day, I was dancing. Endless gratitude. My last outstanding memory was again of the Mediterranean. This time off of a Tel-Aviv beach, I was cradled in its beauty, in its spirituality. And finally, finding complete healing buoyancy with my best friend at the Earth’s lowest elevation on land, in the saltiest body of water on this planet, the Dead Sea.  After covering ourselves in the therapeutic mineral mud, we let the dense water hold us as we gazed across the “Sea of Salt” to Jordan.

India

Dead Sea

Back in Mexico, we spent an entire day swimming and snorkeling in cenotes, which result from the collapse of limestone bedrock (a sinkhole) exposing groundwater underneath – one being over a million years old. I had never done this and my mind was completely blown. Underground caverns of magical beauty, sacred beauty. Suspended in this deep, clean and cool, pristine water, you could only feel connection with a world of natural wonder. The experience was unspeakably profound and beautiful. Now, I have a new adventure to add to my story, to reflect upon with such fondness. For providing me so many extraordinary memories, for teaching me so many valuable lessons, for allowing me to shed the weight of the world, my deep gratitude for the ocean, for all bodies of water, will forever remain, like my wine glass, bottomless.

Cheers,

Vino Bambina

Costa Rica

*My only opportunity for wine buying went down in Wal-Mart. Hey, at least I am honest. There, the ONLY Mexican bottle of wine was the Casa Madero Chardonnay Chenin Blanc, but let me tell you, we were not disappointed. As Mexico’s first wine estate, Casa Madero was established in 1597 in Northeastern Mexico, where the high altitude and cool climate produce high quality grapes. This winery has a tremendous reputation for meticulous winemaking, and it shows in the Chard Chenin that paired so perfectly with sand, sky, sea, and of course, chips and salsa. This lovely gem of a blend offers a peachy, pineapple nose and citric palate that is quite nicely enhanced by a slight hint of white pepper and spice. Drinking juice born of Mexican soil while surrounded by its awe-inspiring beauty made this wino’s heart smile mucho grande.