BARRA DE NAVIDAD, Jalisco, Mexico – A pair of roosters herald the dawn as I curl among the blankets in the Universe Room of the Casa Holistica Sol. The vibrant magenta beginning to streak the sky outside my arched window and the faraway rhythm of waves on the sand is call to me, and I quickly grab my camera and binoculars and head out to explore this little Pacific paradise.

It was not my intention to be here now but I had recently befriended the proprietor of this place, a warm and winsome wise-woman and healer by the name of Lucero, and she had whisked me away from my home in the highlands. It would be an all-too-brief stay – I had to be home in less than 48 hours, and 10 of that would be the journey to Barra and back again – but it was worth it.

Lucero, whose name means star, is a modern-day shaman who invokes the ancestors from the depths of the adobe temazcal in her courtyard. Brilliant hibiscus are in full bloom, and the soothing sounds of Deva Primal blend with the trickle of the waterfall. In the background, an indigenous woman with an uncanny resemblance to Lucero looks down from a mural, lifting her smoking, copal-filled censer to the heavens.

This is the inner sanctum of the coastal sanctuary she has created, a huge light-filled Mexican-style healing space, a rambling structure with pristine white walls decorated with brilliant blues and warm yellows. Each guest room has a name and a mural to match; mine, El Universo, featured a seated figure in a blue glow, all seven chakras alight. Next time, I will choose La Tierra, with its patio overlooking the courtyard and a mural depicting the healing hands of Lucero and the stone-studded dome of the temazcal.

Her plan was to show me the highlights of her town, treat me to seafood dinners on the coast and pamper me with a luscious massage and a temazcal before sending me back home. How could I resist? We were well on our way to accomplishing this goal with a sumptuous lunch of huachinango with mojo de ajo, ceviche tostadas and a couple of cold Coronas under a spacious palapa on the outskirts of town. A sunset swim at the beautiful Hotel Barra de Navidad, in a warm pool overlooking the ocean, sharing stories and agua de coco in Lucero’s ample comedor and the day was gone.

A cruel twist of fate, however, had Lucero bedridden most of the next day with a terrible flu virus, so I was on my own for most of the day. My friend managed to rouse herself enough to make the trip to neighboring Melaque, home to her favorite seafood restaurant, Freddy’s, where we ordered takeout: a luscious seafood cocktail with octopus, scallops and shrimp, and a plate of the freshest oysters I’ve ever eaten, for me; and chicken soup from the market for Lucero.

By nightfall she had roused herself for one of her favorite healing rituals – this time, to heal herself. Pelón, the gentleman who has been helping her around the house for the past decade, built the fire. Soon Lucero was ready with her censer, cleansing us both with the pungent smoke of the copal. She handed me a piece of the incense-like sap, powerful in its memory-evoking abilities, and I followed her into this womb of the Mother Earth.

She invited me to offer my copal to the fire with my intention for this temazcal, which was dedicated to me. She blew out the candle and we faced each other in the darkness and the intense heat. Four rounds of prayers and songs, drumming and chanting followed. Our dreams and our prayers, our sweat and our tears mingled in the vapors of the temazcal.

The heat was a powerful yet enervating force. I emerged spent but cleansed from the inside out. Lucero amazingly seemed to have regained her energy through all of this and as I lay on the straw mat, a melted puddle of me, she headed for the kitchen. I slowly regained consciousness as she bustled about, warming up a delicious fruit punch and a plate of the sweetest papaya sprinkled with dried fruits. I felt more relaxed than I’d been in months; the insomnia and restlessness of nights past were all but forgotten.

I slept like a baby and awoke to another rosy dawn, this time taking Lucero’s bike to wander the early-morning streets and to watch the red highlights of the sunrise dancing on the waves from the malecón.

Time to buy my bus ticket home and to check on Lucero – who awoke almost her old energetic self. She was disappointed at not having given me the promised massage – but what she had given me was much better. A bonding in the heart of the temazcal, a brief escape to a place beyond time, and a lesson in self-healing I will take with me always.

For more information or to book your stay, see Casa Holistica Sol’s website.

“If I can get there, I can pretty much figure out how to get around,” said Frieden, a disabilities advocate who’s been called a chief architect of the Americans with Disabilities Act. Frieden, a quadriplegic who lost most of his mobility in a car crash in 1967, has received a tribal greeting from Maoris in the jungles of New Zealand, visited Kuwait right after the Iraq War, and explored the Great Wall 20 years ago, before a wheelchair lift was installed.

“Xie Xie. Thanks a lot!” says traveler Lex Frieden to the Chinese military recruits who volunteered to carry him (and his wheelchair) up hundreds of steps onto the Great Wall.

Read the rest of the story here

Israeli security guards kept a watchful eye as they passed along the shores of Sudan, and a fellow passenger regaled them with stories from a cruise in which her ship had been attacked by Somali pirates. Among the images etched in the Goodmans’ memories: a Bedouin guide raised with his nomadic family in the desert, a lost city carved in stone, and gold-trimmed minarets on a snow-white mosque.

Alfred Goodman, a retired periodontist, and his wife Joyce have traveled together for 52 years. Their recent cruise through the Middle East and India was one of their most eye-opening.

For the Western traveler, the Middle East has always been a destination that thrills with the mystery of the unknown. On the positive side, it’s an eye-opening journey into another reality, one that is ancient and yet very modern. On the down side is the instability that has plagued the region, and never more so than now, in the years following the Arab Spring, as citizens struggle to take control from repressive governments.

Plenty of travelers, like the Goodmans, are taking the risks in stride and heading for the Middle East for the journey of a lifetime.

“Middle Easterners often quip that there’s never really an ideal time to visit the region, since there’s always something brewing – and Lebanon is no exception,” said former Houstonian Salma Abdelnour, author of the memoir Jasmine and Fire: A Bittersweet Year in Beirut. “But more often than not, the constant political rumblings don’t lead to immediate danger.”

Attacks on tourists throughout the region have been rare in recent years. A 2011 suicide bombing in Marrakech shocked the world and left 17 dead, including 11 tourists, but a rapid government response to the tragedy has headed off further instability.

As guidebook author Zora O’Neill says, a regional conflict does not mean the entire Middle East is in flames; many countries have been perfectly peaceful for years. Even less stable places can usually be safely negotiated with a little insider knowledge, she says.

While many travelers are crossing Egypt off their lists in the wake of recent uprisings, O’Neill finds it to be the perfect time to go. The contributing author of the recent Lonely Planet guide to that country, she was there last fall and also in 2011, when a particularly violent protest left several people dead.

“If I had seen it on the news, I would have written Egypt off for a long time,” she said. “But by being there in Cairo on the street, it gave me perspective. I promptly got on the metro and went away, and on the other side of the city, nothing was going on.”

At the other extreme, travel guru Arthur Frommer has been advising readers since last fall to avoid Egypt entirely, following the riots at the U.S. embassy in reaction to an anti-Islamic video. USA Today’s Laura Bly and CBS News travel editor Peter Greenberg tended to agree with O’Neill, however; Egypt is a big country, and only a tiny part of it is affected by unrest. O’Neill is more specific: If you stay away from Tahrir Square at the heart of downtown Cairo, you’ll probably be fine.

Lidya Osadchey recently visited Beit She’an, one of the most ancient sites in Israel, first settled more than 5,000 years ago.

Furthermore, the places most people, go to see – Luxor, the Valley of the Kings, the Pyramids – are unaffected.

“It’s sad, but tourism is so down now in Egypt that it’s a nice time to go,” said O’Neill. “When I was there in 2011, I really appreciated that I could see the pyramids without mobs of people everywhere.”

The Goodmans’ Regent Seven Seas itinerary was sprinkled with peaceful icons of stability: Jordan, with the spectacular ancient city of Petra carved into the sandstone desert hills; Oman’s fabled cities of Salalah and Muscat; the United Arab Emirates, with Dubai and Abu Dhabi and their sparkling towers of glass and steel; Doha, Qatar, where black-veiled women did their shopping in the souk. Never did they feel threatened.

Check the State Department website at travel.state.gov/travel for travel warnings. O’Neill balances the generally conservative State Department advice with that of fellow travelers and locals. Lonely Planet’s Thorn Tree forum, lonelyplanet.com/thorntree, is an excellent way to connect with travelers to the region. And putting the word out on social media and among your acquaintances – even the Middle Eastern restaurant down the road – can yield surprisingly helpful contacts.

Many travelers worry about anti-American sentiment. O’Neill says in more than two decades of travel around the region, she’s never been treated poorly. “I’ve had more lip from French and Dutch people.” In The Crimson Sofa, her upcoming book on her travels in the Middle East, she documents the hospitality she’s continually experienced. She and her husband were hiking through the Lebanese mountains last year and came to a place where the trail led through a picnic ground where a family was having a picnic. They were greeted enthusiastically and offered Pepsi, dates and barbecue.

“In general that happens almost everywhere I’ve been in the Middle East,” she said. “That’s why I advocate that you go – it sounds like a fable until you have it happen to you, but just a few gestures like that can change your image of what the Middle East is like.”

Tips from travelers

Buzz-neighborhood residents continue to make their way to the Middle East and neighboring countries such as Morocco and Turkey.

Susan and Brad Patt took a cruise from Athens to Istanbul last year and spent four days with Istanbul native and fellow Houstonian Dilsat Baysal. Liz Granville, owner of Deville Fine Jewelry, took a sojourn in Morocco with husband Tom and their three children, shopping in the ancient souks of Fez and Marrakech, exploring sand dunes on camelback and hiking to a Berber village where they drank mint tea with a local family. Lidya Osadchey just returned from a trip to Israel, where she visited Tel Aviv, the Golan Heights, Jerusalem and more. And former Houstonian Salma Abdelnour goes back and forth to Lebanon. Here are their tips, in their own words.

Lidya Osadchey on Israel:
Traveling to Israel at the end of December allows one to escape long lines of tourists. There was not a minute of worry about the safety wherever we went: Tel Aviv, Golan Heights, Sea of Tiberius, excavated Roman cities, Masada, Jerusalem. The Old City was lit up and filled with people from all over the world even at midnight. The food was unbelievable wherever we went. All street signs and directions are in three languages, including English.

Liz Granville on the Dunes of Erg Chebbi, Morocco:
We drove south through the scenic cedar forests of the Middle Atlas Mountains, following the green Ziz River valley until it ends at the Sahara desert. As the last paved road ends at the edge of the oasis town of Erfoud, we were then transferred by 4-by-4 vehicles to Kasbah Tombouctou, a hotel in the style of the region. We had a very early wakeup and explored the legendary dunes of Erg Chebbi on camelback. Perhaps the largest dunes in the Sahara, they are constantly shifting in the desert winds. We witnessed the sun rising over the desert dunes – one of Morocco’s greatest sights.

Susan and Brad Patt on Istanbul:
It was truly one of the most beautiful places we have traveled to. We had heard all about the Spice Market and the Grand Bazaar, and both lived up to the hype. Our hotel was right on the Bosphorus! The history and the culture were so different and interesting. Navigating the traffic was a challenge in this huge, crowded city, but our guides knew all of the back roads. And when all else failed, the best choice was a scenic water taxi on the Bosphorus. The food was so fresh and delicious, and it was so much fun trying out different local eateries. Our last afternoon we indulged in a traditional Turkish bath. I don’t know if we have ever felt so clean. It is definitely a city to add to anyone’s “bucket list.”

Salma Abdelnour on Lebanon:
Downtown Beirut, rebuilt after the 1975-1990 civil war, is full of Lebanese restaurants, bars, and boutiques from internationally renowned Lebanese designers like Elie Saab and Reem Acra. The Ottoman-era Parliament building perches on a hill on the edge of downtown, and there are lovely old churches and mosques to visit.

Achrafieh is a pedestrian-friendly neighborhood of winding lanes, cafes, beautiful old Lebanese houses and shops selling exquisite locally made clothes, jewelry and textiles.

Byblos, about a 45-minute drive north of Beirut, is filled with stunning ruins dating back to when this part of Lebanon was an ancient Roman colony. There are also wonderful seafood restaurants overlooking Byblos’s port.

Published first in The Buzz Magazines, www.thebuzzmagazines.com.

Before she knew better, she rode an elephant in the traffic of Jaipur and hitched rides with a British officer through Wales and a Muslim porn smuggler on a camel through India. Naturally, when she got married, it would be with a fellow adventurer.

Paul, Kaia and Deborah Luik travel to Don Sao, Laos, a small island in the Golden Triangle, where you can see three countries at once: Laos, Thailand and Myanmar.

Paul, Kaia and Deborah Luik travel to Don Sao, Laos, a small island in the Golden Triangle, where you can see three countries at once: Laos, Thailand and Myanmar.

Most people might think about staying stateside at that point. Not the Luiks; Paul went to ice-climbing school in Colorado, and Deborah headed for India – just in time for the historic Ayodhya riots.

Eighteen trips and 27 countries later they finally decided there was just one adventure that could trump the rest: having a child.

Kaia arrived Nov. 25, 2002. Travel priorities changed. Safety and security topped the list. Deborah, who left the fast-paced world of startup companies to focus on family, became the ultimate trip planner.

“Suddenly the question was: ‘Will this experience enrich her life more than endanger it?’” said the always irreverent Deborah. The priority became, not “How far can we get off the beaten path” but “Where’s the fun factor?”

“What we realized was that having fun was… well… fun,” Deborah said. “Once we let go of ‘I’m a traveler, not a tourist; I eschew tourist destinations; I want to see the real… fill in the blank….’ we began to actually see the real place.”

They planned trips around Kaia’s interests: finding playmates, feeding animals, playing on the beach.

When she was 3, they started little trips overseas: Puerto Rico, the Yucatan, Hawaii.

When Kaia turned 7, it was time to take the Fun Factor further afield. In Thailand, they arranged a stay in a hill-tribe village. That’s where Kaia discovered her fascination with village life, which became a theme of subsequent trips. They also discovered another way to connect with local children: by teaching them. Driving around Northern Thailand, they saw a sign inviting English speakers to teach a class – and so they did. They repeated the performance in Malaysia. In India, they discovered an orphanage with girls Kaia’s age, and she taught them how to make friendship bracelets. The girls taught Kaia and Deborah a Hindi circle dance.

It was in Thailand that Kaia developed an interest in “helping people do their work:” collecting shellfish, planting rice, building cooking fires, feeding pigs.

“When you explain to people what you want, they indulge your kid, and you get to see all kinds of things from the inside – agriculture, cooking things, fishing.” Kaia learned how ride on a water buffalo and weave on a hand loom in India, shoot darts from a blowgun and make batiks in Malaysia, and drive nearly anything: a motorboat, a rickshaw taxi, a horse-drawn tonga, even a camel cart.

“An adult can do this too,” said Deborah, “but you feel more self-conscious.”

The next year it was Malaysia, where Kaia’s first run-in with a riot in Kuala Lumpur was met with an equally kid-oriented solution: three days in an indoor amusement park at Berjaya Times Square.

This year, the family traveled to the Spiti Valley in the remote Himalayan province of Himachal Pradesh. Paul’s plan was to climb the 18,000-foot Mount Chokula, while the girls would ride yaks to Komic (14,400 feet) to see local development initiatives. Unfortunately, global climate change foiled their plans; the entire yak population had contracted hoof-and-mouth disease due to unseasonably warm weather. Instead, they learned from a veterinarian and a tribal healer about contrasting treatments of the calamitous disease.

How the Luiks will top their travels now is anyone’s guess. Although, if it’s up to Kaia, they might just stay home; she’s expressed an interest in staying home, playing “village” and learning to knit.

Nevertheless, Joel got an audio course to learn the basics. The best parts of the trip were off the beaten track, in little villages where almost nobody spoke any English.

Travel myths or realities notwithstanding, family travel is always an adventure, says Joel Vela (pictured from left), with his wife Meredith and children Max, 13, Gabbi, 14, and Gianna, 4.

The misconception that everyone everywhere speaks English is one of many that can get in the way of the perfect trip. Personal-injury attorney Stephen Boutros recently discovered another one: A hotel’s “lowest available room rate” isn’t necessarily so. He discovered that by entering “hotel promo code” in Google you can find codes that will reduce your rate by as much as 30 percent.

We asked our readers for questions and consulted with the experts to separate fact from fiction.

Have any more travel-related questions? Send them to Travel Buzz at travel@thebuzzmagazines.com, and we’ll bust through the myths for you.

1. Myth: It doesn’t matter where on the plane you sit.

Truth: Studies show that seats in the back have a higher survival rate. Popular Mechanics magazine analyzed 36 years of National Transportation Safety Board crash data and found that passengers near the tail are about 40 percent more likely to survive a crash than those in the first few rows. Last year, the NTSB conducted its own study, crashing a plane in the Mexican desert.

“The nose and cockpit buckled under the airplane and was basically run over by the aircraft,” NTSB survivability expert Thomas Barth told ABC News. “The first 10 rows of seats were completely destroyed. And the rest of the fuselage remained intact.”

2. Myth: It’s best to use travelers’ checks when you go to a foreign country, or change your money in advance.

Truth: Don’t bother with travelers’ checks, writes Melinda Page at Budget Travel. It’s inconvenient. If you need cash on hand when you arrive, you can sometimes get a good rate at your bank – check to be sure. The best bet is to use ATM machines from banks that partner with yours; Bank of America, for instance, offers free withdrawals from ATMS at partner banks all over the world. It does, however, charge a hefty fee for using the competition. Credit cards are a good bet, but most charge a foreign transaction fee; Capital One levies no fees for international transactions.

3. Myth: Always drink bottled instead of tap water when you’re overseas.

Truth: In Europe and most other developed countries, tap water might be even cleaner than bottled; as much as 40 percent of bottled water is simply repackaged tap water, according to the Natural Resources Defense Council. In Mexico and other less developed countries, check with the locals or your hotel; this varies by region, and some hotels have their own water-treatment systems. In Los Cabos, Mexico, the water source is the aquifers in the mountains, where it is piped to many of the hotels and then treated with sediment filtering, carbon filters, ultraviolet light and chlorination, according to Phil Saunders, director of property operations at Hilton Los Cabos. The water at this hotel and many others is tested monthly by a certified lab to verify the water quality.

4. Myth: It’s important to buy the insurance coverage when you rent a car.

Truth: If you have a good comprehensive auto-insurance policy, and you’re in the United States or one of its territories, you’re probably already covered, said attorney Boutros, who works on insurance cases. “Of course it’s really good to visit with your agent or your insurer; make that call and just ask them.”

Things get more complicated, however, once you go abroad. State Farm, for example, covers some parts of Canada, but not other countries. American Express offers rental-car insurance coverage in some foreign countries for a monthly fee, but be sure to read the fine print. The policy must be in place at the moment you are renting the car, or it doesn’t apply.

5. Myth: Recirculated cabin air makes you sick.

Truth: A crowded airplane is no more germ-laden than other enclosed spaces, writes commercial pilot Patrick Smith in his “Ask the Pilot” column for Salon.com. Recirculated air is mixed with fresh air from compressors and passes through hospital-quality filters. “Boeing says between 94 and 99.9 percent of airborne microbes are captured, and there’s a total changeover of air every two or three minutes — far more frequently than occurs in offices, movie theaters, or classrooms,” writes Smith.

6. Myth: Buy your airline tickets as soon as possible to save the most money.

Truth: If you’re shopping for tickets for a trip in July, it’s too soon, says Rick Seany, CEO of FareCompare. “Shop for summer vacation about three months before departure, up until about a month before take-off,” he writes. “If you shop too early, you’ll pay a mid-range price, and won’t get the better deals the airlines begin pushing out three months out to start filling their summer seats.” The best way, however, is to sign up for fare alerts at a fare-watching site like farecompare.com.

7. Myth: It doesn’t matter what day you book your flight.

Truth: The best day is Tuesday, says Seany, and he’s even more specific: Tuesday about 2 p.m. Central Time. Typically, weekends are the worst times to shop.

8. Myth: Using your cell phone or iPad will crash the plane.

Truth: No aviation authorities have found conclusive evidence that cellular signals affect the plane’s communications, navigation, or flight control, according to Peter Greenberg, travel editor at CBS News. “Just recently, the FAA even gave American Airlines pilots permission to use iPads in the cockpit,” he writes at PeterGreenberg.com. “But the bans on electronics won’t be lifted without extensive – and expensive – testing. The bottom line is, you still need to follow the existing rules, so put those electronics away.”

9. Myth: The magnetic strips on your hotel-room keys contain your credit card and other personal information and can be used for identity theft.

Truth: This notion apparently originated in 2003, when an overzealous Pasadena (Calif.) Police Department detective sent an e-mail around based on a misunderstanding, according to Snopes.com. In 2006, Computerworld magazine examined 100 hotel room cards and found no personally identifiable information.

10. Myth: Rule 240 requires airlines to compensate travelers for expenses incurred due to missed connections, and/or fly them to their destination on the next available flight.

Truth: Conde Nast Portfolio’s Joe Brancatelli says the Federal Aviation Administration rule was ditched with deregulation in 1978; CBS’ Peter Greenberg asserts the rule survived deregulation. Chris Elliott, travel consumer writer for National Geographic Traveler and CNN, says the truth lies somewhere between. Each airline has its own rule, and he encourages fliers to read the contract to know for sure – but these can change at any time.

Budget Travel offers a quick summary followed by a handy list of links to the airline policies, so you can check before you fly: budgettravel.com/blog/rule-240-is-a-travelers-myth,9634.

11. Myth: The cruise ship’s own day-trip excursions provide the best deal.

Truth: Cruise-carrier package tours are more convenient, but they’re almost never cheaper, writes Chris Gray Faust in Budget Travel. Typically, it’s much cheaper to book your own. She cites Norwegian Cruise Line, which charges $99 to take you from the dock in Civitavecchia into Rome for a driving tour and two hours of exploring time. A similar round-trip bus transfer from a private operator such as smartcruisetours.com starts around $16. She suggests that if you’d still like a guide or driver, you can find fellow passengers to share expenses on websites such as CruiseCritic.com.

12. Myth: Travel agents are obsolete in the age of do-it-yourself booking.

Truth: You can sometimes find a cheaper price online. But given their expertise in finding the deals while meeting your special needs, travel agents can save you big bucks in the long run, as Aja Stallworth, a leisure travel consultant in San Diego, told Daily Finance magazine. The typical agent fee of $35 is often offset by other savings or perks the agent negotiates for you, Stallworth said. And a good travel agent will go to bat for you if problems should arise.

Also, travel agents don’t always charge a fee, says Nora McMordie of Rogers Travel in Memorial. Most agents, like McMordie, usually charge a fee only for air-only bookings, and many booking sites, including Travelocity and Orbitz, now add a fee to a ticket price as well, typically between $7 and $ 14.

13. Myth: Buying online is always cheaper.

Truth: If do-it-yourself is more your style, be sure and read the fine print, warns Ralph Cooper of Frosch Travel in Houston. If you’re reserving a hotel room, it might be worth $20 more if it includes breakfast for two, or free drinks at the hotel bar. The pricier tour might include transport from the airport, and the cheaper one may not. Always make sure all taxes and fees are included – especially with airfare. “Make sure you’re comparing apples and apples,” said Cooper.

Mohonk Mountain House in New Paultz, NY. Photo: Jim Smith

1. Riviera Maya – It’s not too late to celebrate the end of the Mayan calendar at the AAA Five Diamond Grand Velas Riviera Maya. It’s Virtuoso’s pick for World’s Best Spa, inspired by ancient cultures. That, with its Caribbean vistas, would be enough. But Grand Velas also embraces an authentically eco-friendly philosophy. rivieramaya.grandvelas.com/

2. Upstate New York – What could be a better escape from the brutal Houston summer than a seven-story Victorian castle on a cliff overlooking the Hudson Valley? Idle away the hours in the spa or roam the 5,300-acre Mohonk Preserve; enjoy horseback riding, golfing, biking, carriage rides and old-fashioned lawn games. mohonk.com

3. Park City – In the winter, it’s the matchless powder; try the five-star, five-diamond Stein Eriksen Lodge, with ski access to Deer Valley Resort. In the summer, it’s a blessed escape for sweltering Houstonians. Hike, bike and check out the area’s gastro-distilleries, then take in an outdoor symphony. steinlodge.com, deervalley.com

4. Huahine – Forget Bora Bora; this Polynesian island is bypassed by most but beloved for its authenticity and ancient altars. Island highlights include the marae walk at Maeva and a motu island picnic with snorkeling. Maitai Lapita Village, a small resort founded by artist Peter Owen on the site where Captain Cook passed in 1769, is unforgettable. huahine.hotelmaitai.com

5. Eureka Springs – This Ozark village at the northern border of Arkansas is an excellent road trip. Take in the town’s galleries, meditate in the glass-walled Thorncrown Chapel, and explore Ozark wilderness. At night, choose between the New Great Passion Play or dancing at clubs. eurekasprings.org

6. Marfa – The Wild West aura of the Big Bend is legendary, as is the quirky pocket of high culture in tiny Marfa. For adventurers, try an overnight kayaking adventure on the Rio Grande; at the opposite extreme is the finest Old West-style luxury resort anywhere, the Cibolo Creek Ranch. cibolocreekranch.com

7. Havana Vieja – Long considered off-limits, Cuba is increasingly accessible to U.S. travelers through cultural, religious and professional groups. Step through the looking glass to a country that has developed in isolation for the past half-century and marvel at the architecture, the history, but most of all, the passion. Try the historic Hotel Nacional de Cuba, once a base for Cuban revolutionaries, then for famous mafiosos. hotelnacionaldecuba.com/en

8. Cornwall, England – Home of Tintagel, believed to be the ruins of Camelot, Cornwall is beloved for spectacular vistas, temperate climate and culture, not to mention scones with clotted cream. It’s also a world-class surfing destination. Take it in from the iconic Headland Hotel in Newquay. headlandhotel.co.uk/

9. Cali, Colombia – Once known as a haven for drug cartels, Colombia is emerging as a hot travel destinations. My personal favorite is Cali. Take a hike in the cloud forests, host to the highest bird diversity on the continent; take a salsa class and become the dancer you always wanted to be. colombia.travel/en

10. New Orleans – Nothing beats a getaway in Houston’s elegant Francophile sister city. From artists at Jackson Square to beignets at Café du Monde, from the Super Bowl (Feb. 3) to Jazz Fest (April 26-May 5), there’s something for everyone. Walk the French Quarter from classic digs at the grand Hotel Monteleone. hotelmonteleone.com

11. Big Sur – A stretch of heaven awaits along Highway 1 on the California coast where mountains meet the sea. Meander through redwoods on the literary trail of Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac; watch waves crash at Julia Pfeiffer State Park; transcend at the Esalen Institute, and cap it off at the Esalen hot springs. esalen.org

12. Iguazú Falls – “Poor Niagara,” Eleanor Roosevelt once said upon seeing this geological marvel where Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay meet. Stay in the heart of Iguazú National Park with a view of the Devil’s Throat at the Sheraton Iguazú Resort & Spa. starwoodhotels.com/sheraton/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=1152

13. Istanbul – East meets west in this ancient yet modern city, bridge between Asia and Europe. Tour remnants of Roman, Hellenic, Byzantine and Ottoman civilizations, cruise the Bosphorus and submerge in Turkish elegance at the A’jia Hotel, a traditional Ottoman mansion on the Asian shore. ajiahotel.com

Published in The Buzz Magazines, www.thebuzzmagazines.com

My father was a man who held a family together with strong yet gentle hands. I held one of those hands as I said goodbye and reflected on all it had done for us – the same huge hand that had held mine as I took my first steps, that had cradled countless babies’ heads as he welcomed them into the world with delight. Powerful hands that had built the two houses where we had lived, cracked the riddle of many a frozen engine block, twisted many a bolt, lifted a wireless internet tower to triumphant verticality.

The hands that scraped the ice from many a windshield on a day like today, so that we wouldn’t have to. The hands that drove an hour early each morning into the city, to work in a factory, so that we could grow up in the country. The hands that took on odd jobs in the evenings, like the one that eventually would cost him his life, so that we could live in comfort.

These were the proud, capable hands of a man’s man, one who knew how to get things done and didn’t hesitate in doing them. Hands callused to the elements, to the rough tug of the pull cord that yanked to life a mower or a chain saw, or if it hesitated, to plumb its oily depths for the answer to the mechanical mysteries of its malfunction. Teaching a grandchild to thread a fishhook, cast a line, and celebrate the resulting catch; and always being the one to clean the fish at the end.

These hands, the knuckles gnarled with calcification, strumming the strings of his autoharp. Learning to play guitar at 73. Prying open the delicate links of a silver chain to reassemble a favorite necklace of a daughter or a wife. Beaming as yet another baby curled a tiny tentative hand around his big finger. Turning the fragile pages of his timeworn Bible or clasped in prayer, searching for the wisdom that would guide his day.


I let go the beloved hand with a final prayer. That the hands that created him now would cradle him with a greater love than our own. And that those same hands will one day reunite us all.

We love you, Papa. And we will never let you go.

Canadian author and activist Maude Barlow atop the Cerro Quemado with Wixarika leader Santos de la Cruz. (Tracy L. Barnett photos)

REAL DE CATORCE, Mexico – From the moment Maude Barlow passed under the crumbling stone arch and saw the first nopalera laden with red cactus fruits, she knew she was entering another dimension.

Accompanied by a retinue of Huichol leaders, activists and a wandering journalist, the Canadian author, public speaker and social leader was making her own pilgrimage to the Birthplace of the Sun. It’s a journey the Huichols or Wixarika people have made for over a thousand years, coming to reconnect with the ancestors, light the candles of life and pray for the balance of all life on Earth.

Maude’s mission was a different one. She had come to see for herself what was at stake in Wirikuta, this most sacred of Huichol holy sites, currently slated for exploitation by Canadian mining companies.

Her goal was to connect with the people being affected by these mining proposals and see what, if anything, the social action groups she leads can do to help. She had come to Mexico to participate in the Permanent People’s Tribunal regarding the devastating effects of mega-hydroelectric projects throughout the region. And she wanted to investigate first-hand some of the impacts of Canadian mining companies in Mexico.

“We Canadians feel embarrassed and ashamed of what is being done in our names,” she had said on the winding cobblestone road to this place. She had just paid a visit to the sad vestiges of Cerro de San Pedro, the colonial mountain town whose fate the defenders of Wirikuta hope to avoid.

The iconic Hill of San Pedro, featured on the flag of the state of San Luis Potosí, is no more, and the charming colonial village that was once at its foot is a virtual ghost town. A battalion of heavy machinery gnaws its way through the surrounding hills, reducing them to rubble. Meanwhile, a 24-stream of trucks belonging to New Gold, a Canadian mining company, rumble back and forth down the dusty country roads, carrying the rubble to be ground into powder, which will be leached in cyanide and other toxic chemicals to extract the gold.

Despite its embattled past and present, the town has retained a poignant charm. Maude was captivated by the ride into the tiny village square. The hills surrounding us were honeycombed with ancient footpaths leading up into stony ruins, inhabited by a surprisingly verdant semidesert ecology: towering nopal or prickly pear, laden with ripe purple and cream-colored tuna or cactus fruit, various relatives of the mesquite, organ cactus, barrel cactus, agave, maguey. We climbed up a quiet hillside where an anti-mining activist had been laid to rest in the shade of a pirul tree, with a spectacular view of the town.

Mario Martinez, a mining company engineer turned anti-mining activist, was our charming guide. The energetic Martinez has dedicated nearly two decades to the fight to save San Pedro, and has nearly paid with his life, more than once. He showed us a vintage photo of the cathedral that hangs on his wall, with the famous San Pedro Hill in the background. I carry it up to the roof where I compare it to the current landscape. The eyes struggle to comprehend the loss.

Martinez and other members of the group that has led the opposition to the mine, the Frente Amplio Opositor, or FAO, have been subjected to death threats, pelted with rocks and even warded off a machete attack. His e-mail account had been broken into, and he had ample evidence his movements were being monitored. He shared his story over a sumptuous spread made by local activists in Martinez’ gracious colonial-era home, just a block from the empty plaza and historic Spanish cathedral at the heart of Cerro San Pedro.

As we stepped out into the dark night, Mario pointed out the odd silence around us. “Normally we would be surrounded by the noise of trucks and machinery,” he said. “They turned it off just for you, Maude.”

I thought at first he was joking; but he was not. FAO’s sources had told them that local law enforcement – which works hand in hand with the mining company – had been advised of her visit, and that we were being watched.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

With this unsettling thought, we headed off on the three-hour drive up into the Sierra of Catorce. By midnight we made it to the former ghost town of Real de Catorce, established by Spanish silver miners in the 1700s and abandoned when the silver ran dry – at least according to the standards of the time. Today’s mountain-chomping machinery and corrosive chemical extraction methods, combined with the skyrocketing cost of heavy metals, has provoked an explosion of activity in these abandoned mining sites.

The fact that this particular one is the most sacred site of one of the most authentic living pre-Hispanic cultures alive – and key to their continued cultural integrity – has not dissuaded the mining companies in the least.

We sank gratefully into the big comfortable beds in the spectacularly restored Hotel El Real and awoke just after dawn for an hour’s ride by horseback to the famous Cerro Quemado, which means Burned Hill in Spanish. The hill is so named for the moment when the sun emerged for the first time from Cerro Grande, just across the valley, at the beginning of the Wixarika creation story.

We were met along the way by a handful of traditional authorities from the Wixarika Regional Council in Defense of Wirikuta, along with other leaders of the Wirikuta Defense Front. Maude began to thank the group for the invitation and to recognize them for their hard work to stop the mine and was quickly hushed.

“We don’t know who’s watching or listening to us right now,” warned one of the activists, in English, so as not to be understood by bystanders. “So we are just going for a ride to the beautiful Cerro Quemado.”

The situation has been increasingly tense here in the economically devastated Real de Catorce, with jobless mining supporters pitted against local environmentalists and those making their living from the tourism industry.

That tension has recently become much worse now that the government has issued a proposal to create a biosphere reserve in these parts, which would prohibit any use of the land by locals for agriculture, hunting, grazing, or any other income-generating activity – a proposal the Wixarika are completely opposed to, but they were not consulted. Making matters much worse is an active disinformation campaign sponsored by the mining company and blaming the Huichols for taking away the right to farm, hunt or otherwise earn a livelihood in the area.

Pascual Pineda, governor of the vast Huichol territory known as Santa Catarina, led the way on foot, with Maude and her retinue, me among them, following behind. She had been apprehensive about this equine expedition, never having been a horsewoman.

But the moment she crossed under the stone arch, she began to relax. “It was as if I was entering another dimension,” she recalled. “It was so beautiful… I even stopped worrying about the horse. I knew I was going to be OK.”

An hour later we were clambering up the last stretch of the Cerro Quemado, our horses tied up at the round stone house that serves as a rustic visitor’s center. We crested the hill and saw in front of us the spiral of stones that marks the home of Tatewari, Grandfather Fire, and took our places around the circle. Here Pascual explained the significance of the Cerro Quemado in the Wixarika cosmovision as I translated.

Santos de la Cruz, the young Wixarika attorney who has become a tireless spokesman for the defense of their sacred lands, spoke up. “This is our university,” he explained. “We come to the desert to learn; we learn from our ancestors, and from the gods that live here. It’s better than Harvard or Oxford. It’s the university of the desert.”

Here we left our offerings of candles and coins among the other offerings for Tatewari and continued on up the hill to the tuki, the small house that holds the offerings for the sun. Pascual offered up a prayer to the five directions and invoked the spirits of the sacred sites in each of those directions, and the other Wixaritari followed his lead, with prayers and offerings in their native tongue.

After the ceremony, I caught up with Maude as she stood amid the curious tufts of yucca and gazed out at miles and miles of desert, since time immemorial the home of Kayumarie, the spirit of the Blue Deer, and the Huichol hunting grounds for their sacred hikuri, or peyote. Destined to become an open pit mine, if her compatriots at Revolution Resources have their way. In the other direction, the town of La Luz, just on the other side of the mountain from Real de Catorce, destined to be the hub of First Majestic Silver, another Canadian mining company.

She shook her head quietly, and I saw a world of sadness in her eyes. “It just can’t happen,” she said. “We can’t let it happen.”

Back down in Real de Catorce, we kept quiet until we were safely ensconced in the conference room at the Hotel el Real, where local residents and Wirikuta Defense Front activists shared their stories, their strategies and their analysis of the government’s recently released Biosphere Reserve Proposal. Besides the conflict-producing ban on agriculture, grazing and hunting in the reserve, the government proposal actually continues to allow mining in critical parts of the reserve. The group had struggled mightily to analyze and respond to the double-edged biosphere proposal, bringing together leaders from the far-flung Wixarika communities with lawyers and environmental analysts to develop a coherent response. Now, only five days remained until the deadline for comments. That would give outgoing President Felipe Calderón’s administration two more weeks to declare the biosphere reserve, before they were out the door.

A long and intense meeting ended in a concrete proposal. In the five days remaining of the comment period, Maude would go home and activate her networks to submit a response. The Council of Canadians issued a letter to outgoing President Felipe Calderón, urging him to establish the Biosphere Reserve but with a ban on mining, land rights for local inhabitants and a long-term sustainable economic development program for the local inhabitants.

For more information, and to sign the letter, click here. Though the comment deadline officially passed on Nov. 15, 2012, the letters will still have an impact.

For more information about the Biosphere Reserve, click here.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Lino Stancich instructs passengers on the art of self-massage for healing on the top deck of the MSC Poesia.

THIRTY THOUSAND FEET OVER THE GULF OF MEXICO – It’s hard to believe it was just a week ago that I made this journey in reverse, catching my pre-dawn flight in Guadalajara, deplaning in Miami to find my Dad relaxed and rosy from the sun at the wheel of a rental car. A week since we found our way to Cruise Terminal 4 in Fort Lauderdale, to the 16-story MSC Poesia, to the Holistic Holiday at Sea, a colorful new community of people joyfully embracing a lifestyle that until now, I’d never contemplated adopting for myself.

I’d given up meat for my Dad, and even dairy for a few weeks – and giving up all animal products on a long-term basis seemed right and proper for my father, who is fighting a grim mesothelioma diagnosis with a self-healing approach. For me, however, it seemed unnecessary and extreme.

But that was before – and this is after.

Now those words bring a smile as I recall the words of former cardiothoracic surgeon Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn, one of the bright lights of the vegan, macrobiotic, or plant-based nutrition movement.

“Colleagues tell me, ‘You are extreme; you are radical.’ I say – Let’s talk,” says Esselstyn, Olympic Gold Medalist, longtime surgeon and researcher at the prestigious Cleveland Clinic. “What you’re saying is that people have to be carved in half, and then you take the veins out of their legs and stuff them in the heart, and all for a food-borne illness … now I think that’s extreme.”

The lanky and charismatic Esselstyn was one of the presenters at the weeklong floating seminar, along with doctors T. Colin Campbell and Neal Barnard, co-stars in Forks Over Knives – last year’s surprise hit documentary that promises to do for veganism what Food Inc. did for the whole foods movement. The premise of the film is that most, if not all, chronic disease can be controlled – and in many cases, reversed – by rejecting animal-based and processed foods.

I was fortunate to interview both of them during my time on board and will post those interviews soon. But first a few last memories and reflections on the cruise that has changed the way I look at food.

Our first night, we sat down to dinner in the elegant La Fontaine, surrounded by diehard vegans, two of whom had gone gluten and oil free as well. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. And then I dug into the first course – an artichoke heart and sunflower seed pate with rice crackers – and just said mmmmm. The meal just got better from there.

Mom, the nutritional conscience and counselor of the family, was delighting in every bite, every new idea, every bit of proof that vegan living could be just as luscious as the alternative. Dad, on the other hand, would take a few resigned nibbles and dive for the salt. I vacilated between them; I loved the food but soon found myself going after every available vice, from the coffee with cream that waiters would deliver on request, to the vodka-spiked fruit juice served that night under a full moon at the welcome party on the pool deck, surrounded by vivacious vegans, merry macrobiotics and beyond them, miles and miles of deep blue sea. It was really something to see, regardless of what was on the menu.

The first couple of days were a challenge, however, especially for Dad. “Let’s go upstairs and check out that buffet,” he would suggest. “Let’s not,” Mom would parry. “How about going to this talk on overcoming your food cravings?”

But it was Dr. Campbell’s talk that really got our attention. Campbell, author of the best-selling book The China Study and a nutritional biochemist from Cornell University, conducted what Jane Brody of the New York Times termed “the Grand Prix of epidemiology studies.” The evidence he laid out showing the connection between high-protein diets and cancer was devastating. And the protein used in the study was casein – the protein that comes from milk. I would never look at cheese in the same way again.

He was followed immediately by Dr. Neal Barnard, founder of the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine and a researcher who was demonstrating similar links between animal products and diabetes, heart disease, Alzheimer’s disease, macular degeneration, multiple sclerosis, osteoporosis and a litany of other ailments. What really got me was the study that showed that cognitive function is diminished by consumption of animal protein.

“If you eat this,” he warned, showing a slide of a healthy chunk of Swiss cheese, “your brain will look like this.” He clicked to a brain-shaped chunk, filled with the characteristic holes.

He was joking, but he was also very serious. The same congestion of the arteries that occurs with animal fats affects the brain in the same way, as he demonstrated with MRI scans of brains filled with blockages – brains of meat- and dairy-eaters.

I didn’t want to believe it. But the evidence was just beginning to pile up.

On the third day we finally escaped to the upper deck for some fresh air – me, to post a blog entry, and Dad, for a much-deserved break. We asked to share a table with a couple who later became friends – Rocky and Lynn Roll from Fenton, Mich. (Yes, that’s his real name!). I asked what brought them here, as I asked many.

Rocky was overweight and had a history of coronary artery disease, and after a heart attack got an angioplasty. A friend shared with him The China Study. “I threw it down and didn’t think about it again,” he said.

Four years, 13 angioplasties and eight bypasses later, his friend said to him, “Rocky, please, read the book again.”

So he did. He remembers the date – It was April 4, two years ago. “We decided we’d give it a try – and we’ve been doing it ever since.”

Rocky doesn’t go overboard praising the diet – he says he came on the cruise because he likes the weather – but Lynn credits his change in eating habits with saving his life. And the two of them climbed to the top of the tower in Puerto Rico’s El Yunque Rainforest – ahead of us.

It was stories like these – face to face, around dinner, in the hallways, on the pool deck, on the excursions – that really drove the point home for my Dad. And the Recovery Panel, with more than a dozen stories of survivors (read about it here), made the reality impossible to deny.

The last day over grilled polenta and vegetables, California businessman Chris Lawrence shared the story of his fight with coronary artery disease – the same story we’d heard over and over of stints and statins and bypasses, all now a thing of the past.

“I was the typical docile patient; I did everything I was told – and it was killing me.” After several bypasses, his arteries were 98% occluded. He could barely walk 100 yards without getting a charley horse in his leg and needing to sit down. He cut out animal products, and his problems cleared up. Nowadays he manages his own health – and is feeling just fine.

“This food is looking better all the time,” Dad mused.

I thought I was seeing something new in his eyes these days. It looked like hope.

He had shared the story of his battle with mesothelioma – and his decision to fire his oncologist – with many, and was feeling the love. Chris was more direct. “It’s not easy to go against the medical establishment,” he said. “It took me a long time.

“What you’re doing takes a lot of courage. I’m a Vietnam veteran and I can tell you, it’s easier to charge up a hill with an M16 than to do what you’re doing.”

I had to agree.

At one point I introduced Dad to a fellow traveler and began to tell his story. “Dad has cancer…” I began.

“You mean I had cancer,” he corrected me, smiling. I corrected my verb tenses after that.

The week passed in a blur of facts and figures, charts and diagrams, interspersed with lively cooking classes, yoga and fitness training, days that ended in vegan ice cream and pizza and cookie parties – and of course, the outings: a rugged hike on St. John in Virgin Islands National Park (“This is the longest 20 minutes I’ve ever seen,” grumbled Dad as he labored up a rocky hill – but he pronounced the quiet white-sand, aquamarine-water beach on the other end to be “worth it”); Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, and a hike through El Yunque rainforest; and a quick trip to the beach in the Bahamas – but very quick, so as not to miss a morning session on self-massage by the funny and informative Lino Stanchich and an afternoon showing of  “Forks and Knives,” introduced by Campbell and Esselstyn.

Of course, it was easy to eat this way, surrounded by true believers and having our food prepared for us by top-flight macrobiotic and vegan chefs. But what would it be like when we were on our own?

I joined Dad at breakfast to find that he, along with a dining companion, had decided to take the 21-day Vegan Challenge. Three weeks are what it takes to make yourself heart attack-proof, Esselstyn had said, And in three weeks – or less – you can overcome your cravings, we’d been told by others.

“What have I got to lose?” he reasoned. “And it just might save my life.”

I agreed; it seemed the logical next step. “Count me in,” I said.

It seemed unbelievable when the last night rolled around that when we awoke, we’d be taking our last breakfast together and headed back home. We bid fond farewells to dozens of new friends and even made more while waiting our turn to disembark and while standing in the customs line.

Our first stop in the real world was a convenience store, where the placards advertising a salami sub sandwich and artificially colored ice cream cones looked worse than inedible to me. We were asking directions to Whole Foods.

Dad was bracing himself for a farewell to eggs, fish and the occasional serving of venison that his naturopath had allowed him. He was more resigned than joyful – but he was making his peace with it. “I know I’ve killed my taste buds over the years – I hope they’ll come back.”

“They will,” Mom reassured him. “I think you’ll be surprised.”

“I guess when you’re on this diet, it’s just that you don’t live to eat,” Dad reflected, borrowing a line from the movie. “You eat to live.”

-Tracy L. Barnett

Freelance writer Tracy Barnett reported last week from the Caribbean from the Holistic Holiday at Sea (here’s the back story). This week, she and her father will begin the 21-Day Vegan Kickstart. Stay tuned for interviews, recipes, and our adventure in the weeks ahead as we try to carry the lessons of Holistic Holiday at Sea into our daily lives – and think about joining us. We dare you.

Meantime, some images from our week at sea:

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

When Dr. Martha Cottrell turned 50, she was a mess. She suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, psoriasis and severe allergies. She didn’t think it could get much worse – but one day, it did. She was diagnosed with a pre-cancerous lesion of the cervix.

“I was doing everything I had been taught,” she told the audience, an attentive theater full of more than 1,200 vegans and macrobiotics. She had healed thousands in her career as a family practice physician, but she didn’t have a clue what she was doing wrong in terms of her own health.

As she waited in her doctor’s office for injections of cortisone for her arthritis, she began paging through an old dog-eared copy of the Saturday Evening Post when she came across an article by Anthony Sattilero, then president of Methodist Hospital in Philadelphia when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Sattilero overcame a grim prognosis and went on to become a leading advocate for the macrobiotic movement.

Cottrell’s life changed in that moment. Her research led her to the Kushi Institute, named for Michio Kushi, the Japanese health crusader who helped to introduce the concept to the United States in the 1950s.

“That was 34 years ago,” said Cottrell in her genteel North Carolina drawl. “I’ll be 84 years old tomorrow, and I hope I’ll be around to needle all of you about your diets for many years more.” I was stunned; this tall, striking woman looked younger than most of the 70-year-olds I know.

Cottrell was one of a lineup of more than a dozen people from all walks of life who shared a litany of truth-is-stranger-than-fiction on the Recovery Panel, a highlight of the annual Holistic Holiday at Sea and a source of inspiration for many – including my father, who sat next to me and listened transfixed, with tears in his eyes. Dad would be 73 tomorrow, and shared more than a birthday with Dr. Maggie, as the physician-turned-macrobiotic counselor is known. Dad started this journey last August, hoping to overcome mesothelioma – one of the most intransigent and lethal forms of cancer known, having resisted any kind of cure from the medical establishment. This panel – in fact, this cruise – is medicine in itself for him and my mother, who don’t find too many kindred spirits in rural Missouri as they pursue this path.

Cottrell was followed by a powerful lineup of testimonials from people of all walks of life, whose ailments read like the roster in a hospital. Janet Fitzsimmons, a nurse from Cleveland who was given three to six months to live after being diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer. Judy MacKenney of Massachussetts told of the day 21 years ago that a bone marrow aspiration revealed Non-Hodgkins lymphoma throughout her lymphatic system and in her spine. Doctors could offer no cure, only a temporary remission – it became a treadmill of medications: one to move the bowels, and one to stop them moving; one to help me sleep, and one to help me eat.”

“I went to a class to learn how to die gracefully,” she recalls, and found “Love, Medicine and Miracles,” a book by Dr. Bernie Siegel, in the library. It was the first indication she’d had that a change in diet and lifestyle could save her life. Her research took her down the same path as Dr. Maggie: “I realized that I just have to go back to Mother Nature and eat the grains and beans and vegetables,” she said. “From that point on, things began to change for me.”

Then there was orthopedic surgeon James Conway, diagnosed at the age of 56 with the coronary heart disease that had killed his father and all four grandparents – “My father had every cardiac procedure known to mankind, and I saw that as my future,” he recalls. He woke up in 2009 with severe arm pain. A cardiac catheterization was scheduled and his doctor recommended a triple bypass. While he was waiting for his surgery, a friend gave him a copy of Dr. T. Colin Campbell’s groundbreaking book, The China Study, which discussed the work of Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn in using a vegan diet to reverse coronary disease.

He called his doctor and canceled the bypass.

“I wanted to try a different way,” he said. “Most people get a bypass and then five years later it’s another bypass or a stent.

“This gave me hope that I could be in control of my health – and as a surgeon, I like to be in control!”

Conway went and saw the documentary “Forks over Knives” featuring the stars of this cruise/conference – Drs. Campbell, Caldwell and Bernard – and he was sold. Three years later, he’s a committed and healthy vegan.

The stories went on and on: Rose Parker, stricken with the breast cancer that had just taken her sister. Ellen Doremus, polycystic ovaries; Betty Hoehn, non-Hodgkins lymphoma; Rose Parker, breast cancer; Robert Pirello, severe osteoporosis; George Morris, heart disease, pleural myopathy and prostate cancer; Jim Miller, non-Hodgkins lymphoma; Dr. James Conway, coronary heart disease; Roger Mulley, chemical hepatitis caused by environmental exposure to mustard gas; and Ginny Harper, Krohn’s disease. Each adopted a plant-based diet; and Christina Pirello, leukemia. Each recovered, most within a question of months.

Each of them had somehow been given a lifeline when they learned of plant-based nutrition as a healing strategy, and each of them were able to take control of their lives and turn them around.

Each story was an inspiration all on its own. I looked over at my father from time to time and saw him at rapt attention – more than once, on the verge of tears. Two hours of these heart-rending accounts drew a standing ovation. I wish I had time and space to share each story. But this was just one panel on one day in the Cruising to Wellness lineup. It seemed to me that I might need to get my own dietary house in order. Certainly the inspiration is here.

-Tracy L. Barnett

Freelance writer Tracy Barnett is reporting from the Caribbean from the Holistic Holiday at Sea, She will be documenting the holistic cruise over the next week through a series of blog entries. Stay tuned!