With new friends at the El Yunque National Forest in Puerto Rico.

One of the most brilliant aspects of jetBlue’s All You Can Jet Pass is their effort to connect travelers through social media as they use the pass. Announcing on a Facebook group that I would be visiting San Juan, Puerto Rico the following week, I received several responses from other travelers. I had no idea that this social connection would prove to make my time in Puerto Rico one of my best travel experiences yet.

Just prior to boarding the plane for San Juan I texted Chum, who had mentioned that he and a few other guys would be staying at the El San Juan Resort, to ask if he and his friends had extra space in their hotel room. I figured it couldn’t hurt and had not yet found a place that I really wanted to stay. He responded immediately that he had just written to invite me to do so. Finding that my accommodations in a 4 start resort would cost little more than a hostel sine we were sharing the room and that the guys I would be staying with shared my faith, I agreed to join them. This was one of the best decisions of the trip.

Randomly gathered All You Can Jet travelers from all over the US.

Chum, Steve and Matt soon became both traveling buddies and friends. Joining a few others we had found on Facebook who were also traveling on the All You Can Jet Pass, we rented a Jeep Wrangler the next morning and set off for the rainforest. El Yunque National Forest is a sub-tropical mountainous rainforest and lies about one hour’s drive outside of San Juan. Spotting the highest overlook on the map we set out to find it. We passed a waterfall along the way and all stepped out to admire it and take our pictures together.

Among our randomly gathered group of travelers were three guys from the Los Angeles area, one from San Diego, another from Salt Lake City, a girl from Virginia and yet another from the Seattle area. Despite having met less than 24 hours earlier, it felt natural to be hiking into this exotic landscape together.

The relatively easy hike up the Mt. Britton Trail led to a castle tower-like overlook. Climbing up the circular stairs, we stepped out into the clouds and waited for them to clear so that we could see. As the clouds lifted and then returned we saw an ever-changing view of the rainforest that was well worth the journey.

The mountains of El Yunque submerged in cloud forests.

Our next stop was Luquillo where the waves crashed down hard on the beach and brave locals surfed. Noticing the way the waves swirled around the rocks, I knelt in the sand to take pictures until the water came up high enough to soak me and move me from my perch. Enjoying the sunset, taking pictures, and conversing together about the beauty of this place made the social part of this experience so much more enjoyable.

We spent the evening swimming in the Atlantic Ocean back at the El San Juan. It was one of the moments that make you feel alive. I could not believe how comfortable the ocean water could be even at night. We stayed up until the early hours of the morning enjoying the 24 hour pools and hot tubs around the resort. This was a day I’ll never forget where travel became a social experiment in Puerto Rico.

The waves crashed and washed around this rock in a circular motion at the beach in Luquillo.

Orestes is a local who hosted me during my visit to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. I enjoyed the enlightening experience of seeing the city and learning about his country through a local's eyes.

There are many wonderful travel guides. My personal favorites are the DK Eyewitness Guides. Full of beautiful images, they paint a picture of why you might want to see and experience the many beautiful parts of the world. I also find Lonely Planet guides particularly useful. Although they are not as graphical, they are full of detailed information that you really ought to know when going to a new place. Travel guides are becoming increasingly popular in the form of mobile apps for smart phones and iPods lightening the loads in our backpacks. Travel magazines like my favorite National Geographic Travel, are another great source of ideas and snippets of useful information.

Despite all of the wonderful resources available, the best travel guide is a local. Well-informed locals who wants to help travelers to experience the places they call home are the best sources of travel knowledge. Not every local desires to help or knows the information that travelers need. The trick is finding and learning from those who do.

Local “travel guides” are sometimes the person who offers you directions when you are trying to find your way. Other times they are part of the random conversation that points out a spot that you absolutely have to see. If you are extremely fortunate a local travel guide is one who becomes a friend with whom a mutual exchange of information enriches both.

When I was preparing to book a hotel for my recent trip to Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic, I remembered that awhile back someone had mentioned to me the idea of couch surfing. Looking it up online I found couchsurfing.org where people from all over the world offer their “couches” to travelers free of charge. All that the community asks is that those who couch surf also do what they can to either house other couch-surfers or if more suitable to be willing to meet up for coffee or to show travelers around their own cities.

Browsing through the list of guys offering their couches to travelers in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic I came across an individual whose profile made it seem like we had a lot in common. Orestes Noboa replied to my inquiry the same day. When I arrived, however, we had not yet made final confirmation so I sat down at the airport, discovered a coffee shop that had WIFI and began to browse for other accommodations. While still at the airport, Orestes contacted me again, let me know that he had been out of town and that he would be happy to host me. It was just in time.

This rather odd-shaped "lighthouse" beams light into the sky in the shape of a cross in memory of Christopher Columbus, the first European to stumble upon the Dominican Republic.

He teaches at a local seminary and has received his training in the US. Having both the student and teacher roles in common, we had so much to talk about. Orestes also enjoys travel and between the two of us there was endless conversation about what life is like in our respective countries as well as the other places that we have traveled.

Staying with a local was an enlightening experience because I was able to see Santo Domingo through his eyes. He helped me to find a good guide to take me through the Colonial Zone. We visited local caves, the Christopher Columbus lighthouse, beautifully manicured botanical gardens, some of the area’s best beaches, and many more local spots. When Orestes was busy he simply left me off at places that I could explore on my own. His home was comfortable and I enjoyed getting to sample the local cuisine. Couch surfing was a wonderful experience and reminded me again that the best travel guide is not a book or a website, but well-informed locals who are proud of their country and want you to experience the best of what it has to offer.

Santo Domingo is regarded as the first city of the New World and served as the headquarters for the above pictured Christopher Columbus and the Spanish conquistadors.

Here I am seated on the walls of the old city of Santo Domingo and I am in awe. I feel this way for a number of reasons but first, because this is where life in North America started for Europeans. Although the Dominican Republic was not the first place Christopher Columbus landed, he did arrive here on his first trip in 1492. It was also the home of one of the early Spanish settlements and its first city, Santo Domingo, became the first capital of the New World. It is a land with a rich history.

Another reason I am in awe is because of the way that life here is lived among and upon these historical places. From where I am seated at the moment I am looking across a plaza at the old Spanish Palace of the Royal Audience. Last evening there were couples seated among the turrets here on the walls and enjoying each other’s company. In that moment I saw something new being shared among something old. The old walls supported new love.

Locals gathered by the old monastery of San Francisco for an evening concert.

A third reason I am In awe is because this city is the base from which men like Cortez and Pisaro planned and launched their missions throughout the new world. Across the plaza from where I am seated conquistadors walked by to receive their orders from the Spanish royal presence. Their old homes are just up the street from here along the Calle de las Damas.

The conquistadors plundered the people they found in the New World and in places like the Dominican Republic they completely annihilated the native population. The fact that these walls and beautiful ornate buildings still exist here is not due primarily to the labors of the Europeans who settled here or to the slave labors of the natives they conquered. Slaves from northern and southern Africa were brought here to construct this old city. It is through the pain and grief of slavery that the populace of so many of these islands came to the Caribbean.

I recently stumbled upon an old gift that I had been given by someone who later hurt me quite badly. Whenever I see it I don’t what to do. Part of me wants to smash it against the pavement never to be remembered any more. I’ve considered gentler methods of disposal. Yet for some reason I still keep this gift in my possession. By keeping it around this gift has inadvertently become not only a reminder of past pain but also of the lessons and the ultimate good that have come from those difficult events. The “ruins” and “monuments” in our lives can tell better a story than merely one of pain. They are where old and new come together in our stories to produce new life.

The Dominican Republic is an expressive blend of both old and new. Its present beauty grows out of its past pain. The walls of old Santo Domingo could tell many tragic stories. Yet the grief of the past yields to the beauty of the present. A budding culture grows among the old cathedrals, walls, forts and palaces replacing grief with charm and sadness with joy. I will never forget old Santo Domingo, the first city of the New World and where old and new meet.

The oldest cathedral in the New World lies in the heart of Santo Domingo's Parque Colonia.

We are familiar with the expression “You have to go where the wind takes you.” This is a sailing metaphor which as a sailboat owner I can confirm makes a lot of sense. You may have a destination in mind but your not going to be able to go directly to it under wind power. When you set out to go sailing you don’t really know what kind of route it will take to get to your destination. The wind determines that and the wind changes.

The other day while enjoying the waves at Juan Dolio beach in the Dominican Republic I realized that this metaphor also applies to the surf. When you step into the ocean you agree to go where the surf takes you. You can fight the waves but as one wave after another pushes you around you realize that you have entered into a force far larger and more powerful than yourself.

Those who swim in the ocean realize that they are taking a significant risk. Yet the beauty of the beach and the allure of the water on a warm day draw us in anyway. We understand the reward so we dive into that which under adverse conditions could drown the most experienced swimmer.

Not everybody takes the risk to swim in the ocean. I can think of at least two reasons why some would choose to avoid this risk. The first is that those who have not learned to swim or are still tentative about their abilities may fear that they will not be able to handle themselves in the water. The second reason is that some may not like the temperature of the ocean.

While reveling in how warm the Caribbean was I heard a man call out to his wife to jump in. As she walked toward the water., I heard her say, “It is too warm. I don’t like when the water is this warm. I wanted to ask, “Have you been in cold water?” I grew up in the Midwest and my earliest experiences with a large body of water were in Lake Michigan. If you want to know cold water jump off the pier with us next summer and try to swim across the channel that connects the Great Lake with Portage Lake. Better yet, jump into Lake Superior off Minnesota’s North shore like some of my crazy friends from this frigid state. Even in sunny san Diego, the ocean is not all that warm. Sure you get used to it as we alway say but there is still something magical about swimming in an ocean or a sea that is truly warm.

Fear of what might happen to us and disinterest in the adventure that diving in would bring, are the same reasons we avoid the “surf” in our lives, The ocean is uncertain. Solid ground keeps us under control and feeling that we can decide what will happen to us.

Fear prevents adventure and keeps us from living fully alive. A life directed by fear will cause us to one day day look back and realize that we never lived the way we wanted to nor did the things that we felt called to do.

Disinterest in anything that is not exactly the way we like it also holds us back. I have wanted to become a good surfer since I moved to san Diego. What holds me back? Part of the problem is that the water is uncomfortably cool and also it has been a struggle to try to get any good at it. More comfortable and less risky are the sports that I feel confident enough with to feel under control.

Engaging the ocean can seem hard, uncertain, strange and rough. Despite all of this we are called into the water to swim. We go where the surf takes us because we know that the one who made the waves also controls them, guiding our lives through all of the uncertainties to the course that will enable us to live fully alive.

My Baggage Tag to Adventure.

Seeing this pass my mind immediately went into overdrive. Would I be able to get off work long enough to enjoy it? Was this the right time for a crazy adventure? I turn 30 in a few months and I had hoped to go on some sort of month long adventure to celebrate and to do some writing and reflecting. Realizing that this pass might allow me to accomplish my various goals including time to write and process life as well as a 30th birthday adventure that would allow me to reach my 30th country, I purchased it the second morning the pass was up for sale before it sold out by later that day.

After several weeks and much planning, I finally have an itinerary. My manager at work graciously allowed me to have a month off starting September 18th. For the first two weeks of the pass I am using my days off to travel and then as of the 18th I will be traveling solid through mid-October.

Travel Itinerary

* September 7-9: Visiting my brother Caleb and his wife Abby in Seattle
* September 13-14: A brief jaunt up to Salt Lake City
* September 18-21: Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic
* September 22-24: San Juan, Puerto Rico
* September 25-27: Portland, Oregon for a conference with Donald Miller
* September 28-30: Montego Bay, Jamaica
* October 1-3: Orlando & Sarasota, Florida to visit family and friends
* October 4-6: San José, Costa Rica
* October 7-9: Atlanta, Georgia for the Catalyst East Conference

After this I will fly up to Ohio to visit family and friends for a bit. I’m hoping to take a train back to San Diego but will have to see if I have the time to do so. This is the plan so if you are wondering what I am doing at all of these different places, now you know. No, I didn’t get rich, quit my job or go off the deep end (yet). I just have an overactive desire for adventure and need some time to process what is next in my life. I plan to write as much as possible during this time so keep checking back for pictures and updates!

One of the things I love about travel is the increased openness I feel to see and respond to daily opportunities. Travel is an invitation to spontaneity. It is a chance to live how we would like to live if we didn’t feel too busy to do so. In this way it also reminds us to dust off the interests and passions that we have allowed to lay dormant and to live more fully by focusing again on what we love.

Pouring over lists of hostels last week my only concern was to find a place to stay somewhere in between Crater Lake and Lassen Volcanic National Park. Realizing that I would probably leave Crater Lake in the evening I thought it might be nice to have a place to crash after a few days of camping. I also love hostels and jump at opportunities to discover new ones. Finding a hostel in Ashland, Oregon looked perfect for my route.

Planning merely to pass through I discovered that I had stumbled across a gem of a town in Ashland. The hostel proved to be a warm and friendly place. It was an actual home right on Main Street with large common areas to relax and converse with other visitors. While talking with Eric and Roger, two road-tripers from Northern California, I learned that the Oregon Shakespeare Festival is not just an event as I had supposed, but that it is ongoing. Curious, I looked up the list of current plays and decided that the Merchant of Venice looked the most interesting. To my delight, it just so happened that this was to be the featured play the following evening.

Now I had a decision to make. Do I continue on with my plan to pass through to the next place or do I change everything to stop and live in the moment? The next morning I awoke still pondering this decision. Having been warned that I should get my ticket as soon as possible if I hoped to go, I decided that attending the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in a place that literally revolves around this attraction was a wonderful opportunity.

One of Ashland's local musicians dressed like a sprite and playing beautifully on various wind instruments.

Driving downtown to seek out tickets I felt like I had stepped into a village on the English countryside. Tudor styled homes and typical British names for businesses lined the streets. I learned from the friendly attendant that there were not any tickets left for the Merchant of Venice at the lower price. He asked if I was a member or new somebody from town who was so that I could get the tickets half-priced. Mentioning that I was in town for the day and did not know anyone, he said that he would check and see if he could use a local friend’s discount. He then offered me the lower price for a seat. I love it when spontaneity aligns with good fortune and things work out!

I spent the first part of the day cheering on Spain in their World Cup match versus Germany. Learning from Yelp about a local coffee shop that roasts its own coffee, I decided to check it out. I loved the place the moment I walked in the door. It is large and open with somewhat of a rustic feel. The most interesting looking menu item that I had never tried was called “siphon service.” It seemed the more adventurous path to try something new and I was not disappointed. The process of siphoning coffee is something that has to be seen to be understood. I have posted a link to a video of the process at www.justandyblog.com/2010/07/coffee-siphon-service/

Forewarned that I might want to prepare before watching the play, I purchased a summary and analysis of the Merchant of Venice and sat down in beautiful Lithia Park to read it. I also attended a brief lecture given as a preface to show on the festival’s campus. Feeling prepared to comprehend the show, I stepped outside and found a girl dressed as a sprite playing a variety of interesting looking wind instruments. Her music was mesmerizing and seemed quite fitting for the streets of Ashland.

Every evening at 7:15 there is a free outdoor event called The Green Show” and I attended for a musical journey through the history of blues. It was quite entertaining and drew a large crowd. At last the time had come for the play.

The Tudor-styled Elizabethan Stage at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

Finding my way to my seat on the upper level, I was immediately drawn in by the scene. Of Ashland’s three theatres, this play was held at the Elizabethan Stage, a large outdoor venue with a beautiful Tudor-styled set as its backdrop. The play was absolutely fabulous, professionally executed within a beautiful set. The acting was so well done that I leaned forward and felt like I was living part of the story, empathizing with Antonio, hoping the best for Bassanio and struggling to understand the cruelty of Shylock. The Oregon Shakespeare Festival provided an exceptional cultural experience.

It was a very satisfying day for a traveler. One that began with one plan and ended having followed another. I stumbled across a wonderful opportunity, gladly responded to it and experienced its rewards.

Noble Coffee Roasting is one of the finest coffee shops that I have ever visited.

Visiting the wonderful Noble Coffee Shop in Ashland, Oregon I decided to try something new and ordered the “Siphon Service.” This alternate process for making coffee is not only intriguing to watch but it also produces the cleanest cup of coffee you will ever taste! Here is a video that demonstrates the process!

I am taking a road trip all the way up and back down California, with the possibility of a little Oregon mixed in. Nearing the end of graduate school I began planning this road trip with great expectation. Sporting a new camera I have now set out to explore the “rest of California” that I have yet to visit!

During my first day of driving I took a different route to Monterey than I normally take. Traveling up 5 North and exiting at Jayne Avenue, I took 98 over to 101. The scenery along 98 is absolutely gorgeous. This particular mountain took my breath away! I will be adding ongoing photo updates to my new Tumblr blog as well at www.andyjohnson.tumblr.com/

I met President Barak Obama’s grandmother in a village in Kenya. She is a gracious 86 year-old woman who says that she loves receiving the visitors that her grandson’s fame brings her way. My Kenyan friends met her several years ago and wanted to take me to meet her. Realizing how unique this opportunity was I readily agreed. While pulling up to the front gate of her home, I did not know what to expect. On the one hand it seemed that she should have a better situation than most for this area of Kenya but on the other maybe it was fitting that her humble home and life fit so naturally into her local context.

A large group of Norwegians awaited her arrival as we sat down. I split my attention between trying to think of insightful questions to ask and observing the ordinary African life around Grandma Obama’s home. Children pumped water and played toward the backside of the house. Tombstones stood as the typical landmarks of African family property. Two turkeys including one show-off male joined us for awhile before being chased away. The only signs of a presidential mark on the place were the visitors gathered and several Obama stickers in the windows of her home.

Grandma Obama seems to genuinely enjoy visiting with her guests.

A picture of President Obama as a young man visiting his Grandmother in Kenya.

Asking her what advice she would give to President Obama if he were to ask, she stated that she asks him to bring development and to work for peace. “Has he done anything here for development,” I asked. “No, not yet,” they replied. Visiting Grandma Obama made me reflect on foreign aid and responsibility in Africa. Should President Obama help to develop his hometown area of Kenya or is this simply not his responsibility? My Kenyan friends held differing opinions on the matter, one thinking yes and the other that his job is to take care of the American people, not Kenya. While still processing what our role is in the West to help support Africa development, I don’t purport to have the answer. I do know this much though, Grandma Obama is a lovely old woman and I am glad that I had a chance to meet and share conversation with the woman who symbolizes the United States’ multicultural connection with Africa.

I enjoyed visiting with the gracious grandmother of President Obama.

Live in a Kenyan village near Lake Victoria.

They say that home is where the heart is but my heart is in many places. I guess this means that my home is where I reside among the hospitable. I have now been adopted by two Kenyan families. Meet my lovely Luo family as you accompany me into life in the Kenyan village of Manuanda.

Sad to leave Uganda amidst violent riots, I took heart by anticipating what the final leg of my trip would bring. During my last trip to East Africa I spent the largest portion of my time in Kenya so I have friends and organizations there that I’ve long hoped to revisit. It was a wonderful feeling to get off the bus in Kisumu and to know that the rest of the trip I would be with Kenyan friends. Moses Adero Ndisi along with his brother and cousin picked me up from the station and we set out for their hometown village. I met Moses at the World Social Forum in Nairobi, in February of 2007. Discovering that we had a lot in common, we became fast friends. During my final stint in Nairobi, Moses took me around town showing me the city’s best cultural spots. Lacking time to visit his hometown village on my first trip, we planned to do so “next time” and our chance had finally arrived.

My buddy Moses who I stayed with while in Kenya.

Moses' mother in her home.

Moses’ grandfather built a church on the family property and it has served as the community’s place of worship ever since. He also used to travel around the region preaching and serving people in a way that has earned his name a respected and appreciated legacy. In what has become typical fashion for me while traveling, the pastor of the church asked me to preach a few minutes before the service began. After sharing with them about the faith in Christ to meet needs that caused four men to dig through a roof to bring a lame man to Jesus for healing, the pastor shared with me that the people were touched. It was a delightful experience to share that time of worship with them.

Tilapia from Lake Victoria with ugali and greens.

African hospitality has a way of making you feel like family. I enjoyed sharing this two days of life in a Kenyan village with Moses and my Luo family.

My wonderful Luo family.