On my first Sunday in church in Scotland, a gal introduced herself to me and gave me her number. She said I could call her for coffee sometime.

But I didn’t call her.

For all kinds of reasons.

I was in a state of total overwhelm. I thought she was just being polite. I was still mourning our move. I missed my friends from home.

So I didn’t meet up with Sandra for coffee.

But she didn’t forget about me. She remembered that she had offered.

And sometime after Christmas, she made another attempt. She invited me to her house for tea with a couple of other moms of teenagers.

And this time I took her up on her offer.

And the women that were at tea on that very cold, wet day became some of my closest friends in Aberdeen.

They are the people I asked my questions about school and exams.

Over the next 2 1/2 years, we ate together and took our kids on outings together and prayed for each other.

Sometime this spring, I told Sandra about one of the places on my list that I still wanted to see on a day trip from Aberdeen.

It’s this place north of Aberdeen, but still on the coast, and there’s this crazy rock I’ve seen pictures of. It’s called Bow Fiddle Rock. Have you ever heard of it?

She had not heard of it, but when I described it a little more (A rock that looks like it has been slid into another rock.) and told her the name of the closest town, her eyes grew wide with recognition.

Cullen!! I went there for summer holidays as a child! I haven’t been there for ages.

And so a day trip was planned. We drove up one morning after our kids left for school to walk from Cullen to Bow Fiddle Rock.

I was super excited when I spotted it!

And it’s just beautiful from every angle.

We had such a fun day walking along the coast and seeing the places Sandra played with her sister when they were young girls.

We even got a little Scottish sunshine.

We walked back to Cullen and popped into this darling little spot for lunch.

The Rockpool Cafe.

Everything was scrumptious.

We ate crab bruschetta and had Cullen Skink, the creamy fish chowder you can order all over Scotland but is named for Cullen!

Then we walked up and down the high street and popped into a shop or two before driving back to Aberdeen.

It was one of those perfect days I’ll save forever in my memory. And it makes up a little bit for the fact that I missed out on four months of teas and coffee with Sandra by not taking her up on her original offer.

We moved to Germany last week. And on Wednesday, a mom at Simon’s new school asked me to come over for coffee.

I don’t really feel like making new friends yet.

I’m overwhelmed. I have a serious language barrier going on. I miss my friends I’ve left behind. Maybe this mom was just being polite.

But I immediately said yes, exchanged numbers and set up a date.

I have Sandra to thank for that.

PS. If you want to visit Bow Fiddle Rock, here’s a great map of the walk from Cullen.

The post A Sunny Spring Walk to Bow Fiddle Rock from Cullen, Scotland appeared first on Alison Chino.

A light drizzle was falling on us as we made the drive to Aboyne, Scotland.

It was a Saturday morning in March. Nearly Easter.

We were headed to meet our friends Patrick and Nicola for a walk with our kids and theirs.

Soon we were standing around in the car park in the rain. (car park = parking lot, My friend Tanja likes to say “The car park sounds like it’s where all the cars go to play!”)

All of our kids were tugging at hoods and zippers to get a bit more cover from the rain.

When you are still beside the cars and it is raining, you feel that maybe you should just get back into the cars and forget the walk. It’s discouraging to begin a walk in bad weather, and it’s hard to just walk away from those metal coverings that have dry seats inside of them.

But we had driven an hour to reach Aboyne, so no one balked when Taido said, “Ok, this way.”

We filed behind him along the sidewalk until he turned left off of the road and onto a trail.

The joy of being with another family is that we could all laugh together about being out in the rain. If it had just been Chinos on this hike, there would have been attempted mutiny and non-stop complaining.

But when you’re with others who say things like, “Auch, well, it’s good to be outside on a Saturday,” then everyone is more inclined to be cheerful.

We traipsed through damp woods over brown ferns and grasses, not yet showing any signs of spring green. But on this wet March day, the air felt warmer. The winter chill was definitely beginning to pass even if spring was not yet visible.

The rain stopped after a bit, and the kids scrambled ahead of us, shedding their raincoats and climbing trees.

Nicola and I fell behind a bit, chatting and catching up after weeks of quick hellos at church. A proper chinwag while walking a wooded trail is my favorite way to spend time with a friend. Maybe it’s my introverted nature talking here, but it’s so much easier to walk and chat than sitting face-to-face. The pressure is off. You can walk and talk or walk and listen or walk and be quiet. Anything goes. This day we talked quite a lot. Easter was upon us and we were both feeling the sting of having one older child away from home for Easter. We talked about Easters of years past and how the day is not quite the same without little ones. We spoke of children getting older and living with mostly boys. We talked about the future and the hopes and worries of our hearts.

Before long the kids were shouting from a pile of rocks that we had reached the top and it was time for lunch.

We pulled out sandwiches and tuna wraps and apples and carrots and homemade blondies. We passed around treats and pretzels. The wind picked up and we all got chilled quickly on the exposed hilltop. Taido poured tea from a stainless steel flask and Patrick poured coffee from his blue and green thermos.

“I feel raindrops!” one of the kids said. “Let’s get going.”

Time to walk again.

Taido led us back down the hill we had climbed and then we looped on a different trail back to town.

We came down through a grove of pine trees and out by a field where the views opened up and we could see the mist-covered mountains. More of the ground and the trees were beginning to be green.

Spring was almost here.

It’s a long exhale every year when I realize that I have made it through another winter.

We walked along the field, everyone’s pace quickening in the rain.

I stopped to tie a lace and got behind. When I looked up, I saw our kids walking ahead together and then Taido with Patrick and Nicola following on the lane.

And I remember thinking then:

This is how I always will always remember our days in Scotland. Wandering in the Highlands on the days when the weather is not the best and even the season is not my favorite, but we are outside and we are together.

The joy of opening a flask of hot tea or a tupperware of homemade treats with a group of friends on a rainy day is a feeling I want to bottle. It is simple and lovely and inexpensive and uncomplicated. And on nights that follow days like these I fall into my bed with tired legs and full heart.

Many, many of our Saturdays in Scotland have been marked by this simple rhythm.

Steps on a path and friends alongside.

PS. Aboyne, Scotland is a super lovey little town in Royal Deeside (west of Aberdeen in the Highlands). You can find the walk we did at Walk Highlands, and if you find yourself in need of a cup of tea after a wet, cold walk, I highly recommend stopping in the Black Faced Sheep in Aboyne, Scotland before you head on your merry way. Another really charming spot for walking in this area is Glen Tanar.

The post A Wet Almost-Spring Walk in Aboyne, Scotland appeared first on Alison Chino.

Chasing Daylight in August: Cruden Bay in the Rain

Friday night, 11 pm

The chance for rain had gone up to 90%.

Taido had been checking the weather hourly all evening, watching the increase from a 10% chance to “almost certainly it’s going to rain.”

Now he was feeling uncertain about our plans for a Saturday outing, the one I had been planning in my mind as:

My Perfect Last Day of Summer with Friends

or

Mary Polly’s 16th Birthday Outing

or

Cole’s Only Saturday Home After Being Gone For Three Months

Even Taido was only whizzing through for a weekend, home from Germany to say a quick hello.

The rain had poured down all day Friday. Cole had been sleeping off jet lag while the other kids watched movies.

Cole and Taido were both leaving again on Sunday.

We needed this outing.

Let’s just see what it looks like when we wake up, I said. The weather is constantly changing. Maybe it will be pretty.

Silence from Taido.

Saturday morning, 6 am

TC (Taido): It’s already raining.

Me: What about in Ballater?

TC: It’s already raining there as well.

Me: Ugh.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but then I heard an alarm, and soon afterwards, the shower coming on.

It was MP, up early to get ready for her birthday walk with friends.

I rolled back over.

Me: We can’t cancel. We have to get out today.

TC: Ugh. I’m not driving an hour and a half to walk in the rain.

I sat up and pulled out my phone. Now we were both sitting up in bed and looking at the weather.

Me: It looks a little clearer north of Aberdeen. What if we try Cruden Bay? That’s closer anyway.

TC: Hmm.

Me: Do you think folks will still come?

TC: Hmm. Maybe text them and see.

Good morning friends! Well it looks like it is going to rain all day in Ballater. So we’re thinking of heading up to Cruden Bay to walk along the coast to the Bullers of Buchan and then back. We may still get rained on but the forecast looks a little clearer that way. Thoughts?

The replies came back.

Miraculously, we still had a small company of willing walkers.

Thank goodness for crazy Brits who consider horrible weather as normal as breakfast or afternoon tea.

One family who was previously not going actually decided to go on Saturday morning. They woke up to rainy skies and thought, Maybe we’ll join that in on that walk after all!  Who does that?? I’ll tell you who. People who were born in Scotland.

There were grumbles from some corners of our house about walking in the rain, and moods did not improve as we loaded up in the car in a steady drizzle of rainfall.

I think the sky looks to be a brighter shade of gray up ahead, I pointed out optimistically.

No one agreed.

Taido turned on his electric beats that we’ve been driving around to all summer long.

MP: Ugh. I’m sick of this playlist.

Cole: I’ve never heard it.

Ben: That’s because you’ve been gone.

Cole. That’s right. And I wish I still was!

MP: Daddy please, I hate this song!

TC: Shut it.

MP: FINE!

MP: Will you at least turn it up?

We rode the rest of the way in silence. I was alternatively relieved and horrified that we would be with others for the rest of the day, hoping the distraction would make us better versions of ourselves rather than worse.

10:30 am

Everyone met in the car park. Blessedly, for a few minutes, it was not raining.

It’s one thing to be prepared to walk in the rain. It’s quite another to actually start out in it.

From the Cruden Bay car park, you walk first through a bit of forest and then on to New Slain’s Castle, a ruin named as such because there is a tower remaining further south of Old Slain’s Castle. But New Slain’s is also old.

From the castle, the walk leaves the road and continues on a single track trail along the dramatic coastline.

The scenery is magnificent. Rock outcroppings, cliff drops, waves crashing below. Even the occasional puffin spotting.

On a pretty day, the views will take your breath away.

But even on a rainy day, if you poke your head out from under your hood, the cliffs below are gorgeous.

But my kids had not come for the views.

Having done this walk multiple times, they are sadly immune to its beauty.

The only reason they were not sitting back in the car and refusing to get out was the company.

And thankfully, when it started raining about ten minutes into the walk and did not stop for the remainder of the day, the company was enough to keep going.

Even before the rain was actually falling, everyone was wet up to their knees from the muddy trail and tall grass.

It’s been a very wet summer in Northeast Scotland. And the green grass and bushes have thrived. They were much taller and thicker than I remembered them being in June when we had last walked this trail.

Everyone fell into patterns of twos and threes, talking and laughing. And shrugging off the soggy day.

Soaking wet trousers and socks, mud to our ankles and no sign of a break in the rain for a picnic lunch–it was certainly not what I had imagined when I determined to plan “A Perfect Last Day Of Summer With Friends.”

But when we were all finally off the coastline and back on the road, crammed with standing room only in a bus shelter to eat our sandwiches, I looked around and everyone was smiling.

One of the kids started a game that they had all played at summer camp, a sort of calling and answering game where the lead gets passed around. They were all chanting responses back and forth, while the adults passed around thermos cups of hot tea and coffee.

As I warmed my hands around my cup of tea, I paused to hold the memory in my mind of the unassuming gathering.

It was not picnic blankets spread under blue skies and faces to the sun, but still.

It was actually kind of perfect.

The post Chasing Daylight in August: A “Perfect” Day Out appeared first on Alison Chino.

LynEtte, Alison, Stephanie and Diane.

We declared ourselves to be pilgrims on the road to Santiago.

But before we ever started out on the trail, we had a hunch that we were taking The Way a little easier than most. (Camino Lightweights, if you will.)

For starters, we were only doing the last stage, by some accounts the easiest one, 110 kilometers from Sarria to Santiago.

Secondly, we were not carrying our luggage. We used a luggage transfer service instead of carrying large backpacks.

And lastly, we were taking six days to do what is normally a five day journey. And we built in time on both ends for extra rest.

Because you know, jet lag.

So for all of these reasons, when we were brainstorming for a hashtag for this trip, we decided upon, #PrincesasDelCamino.

And as it turns out, we totally lived up to our name.

LynEtte even brought us crowns!

So just for laughs, I thought it would be fun to share a few things princesses do while they are on the Camino de Santiago:

Always ask for ice. (the Spanish word for ice is el heilo)

Turn down the TV in a restaurant when it is too loud.

Have strong opinions about food, especially tuna.

Dress up for dinner.

Leave our mark everywhere we go.

Have wine with every meal.

Turn every outing into a party.

Start walking at 10am.

Find the best spots on the trail for resting.

Take lots of breaks along The Way.

Always look beautiful, even while walking.

Have sangria by the pool.

Fit in a little shopping.

In a cute little boutique shop, of course.

Take lots of selfies.

Make lots of friends.

Wear matching shirts for the finish line.

Have a day at the sea.

Cuddle each other when the weather turns cold.

Dance when the sun shines.

Love each other. A lot.

Laugh.

A LOT.

I love my #PrincesasDelCamino and I’m so thankful for the time with these sweet friends on the Camino de Santiago.

I hope we will find ourselves walking together again soon in the future. Until then, here is a little video collection of us Camino Lightweights some of our biggest laughs.

Our journey along The Camino de Santiago was made possible by Macs Adventure, who found us the most wonderful places to sleep and made our giant suitcases magically appear in our rooms each night. 

If you enjoyed this post, you might like to read more about the Camino de Santiago. Or consider subscribing to receive stories in your inbox.

The post Snippets of the Way: Pilgrims or Princesses? appeared first on Alison Chino.

Live The Way: Make Friends

Jerry, come and have a look at these girls.

They already have their seashells on their packs and they haven’t walked one step of the Camino yet.

They’ve already been to the Pilgrims’ Mass!

Two brothers, ages 67 and 70, had completed all but the last stage of the Camino de Santiago.

In pieces they had walked, returning to Spain over the years to cover portions of the 800 kilometer journey from St Jean Pied de Port in France to Santiago de Compostela.

I loved meeting people who were walking the full Camino this way. An admirable kind of patience is required to finish a journey in stages, especially at a season of life where you perhaps feel your age more with each passing year.

We had this set of brothers in fits of laughter, four girls who had not yet seen a day on the trail, up late in the hotel bar, chasing our dinner of Sangria and pizza with cocktails before a day of walking over 20 kilometers.

No one ever accused us of being the wisest walkers on the road to Santiago,

but we earned a reputation for being friendly, a badge of honor I’ll wear proudly any day.

Long Haul and Short Haul Pilgrims

We met lots of Pilgrims who had been walking for many days, having begun some time in May at the beginning in St. Jean Pied de Port.

And we learned that when you meet folks who have been walking for a month with their possessions on their backs, you just want to honor their accomplishment.

Some of them welcomed the distraction and seemed ready to make friends with fresh faces.

Others were weary and perhaps slightly annoyed to be sharing the trail with loads of new folks who were full of energy  and blister free. Some of the long haul pilgrims began to find it hard to find a bed at night because they were all booked up.

I was in awe of anyone who had been walking since the beginning. I remember how desperate Diane and I were to be done with the Coast to Coast after only two weeks. If I was coming in on the home stretch of an 800 kilometer journey, I would want a cheering section.

And the four of us, well, we made a mighty fine cheering section if I do say so myself.

However, as we began to be aware of how far people had come on their pilgrimages to Santiago, we would answer a bit sheepishly when asked about our starting point,

Just Sarria.

Of yes, of course. That explains everything.

Fresh faces. Cheerful spirits. Stopping constantly for pictures.

We had begun at the end. We were only walking the final stage of the Camino from Sarria to Santiago. 110 kilometers.

Just enough to earn a Compostela.

No Pyrennes to climb and no bunk beds at night.

No sleeping in fields or carrying all our possessions. (We used a luggage transfer service.)

But on the fourth day, we met an American lady who had done the Camino several times many years ago and now returns frequently to volunteer along The Way. She was working in an Albergue for the summer via an organization for American Pilgrims who want to keep in touch with The Camino.

She encouraged us not to say, “Just Sarria,” as we talked about how many days we had been on the road. She told us to embrace our pilgrimage as our own.

There’s no right way to do the Camino, she said.

After that we began to claim our journey for what it was. Ours.

And we encouraged the many others who were walking to do the same.

No Strangers on The Camino

The lovely gift of being in a group of four walkers is that if someone wants to talk, there is someone to talk to, but it someone wants to be quiet, well, that’s ok too. The other three can carry the conversation.

You could kind of tell when someone passed you or when you passed them if they wanted to talk.

Or if they did not.

You could get a vibe.

They might have their head down or even headphones in. They might be trying to keep a really quick pace.

I was content to leave a person to themselves if they only wanted to quickly mumble the trail greeting and keep on:

Buen Camino.

Sometimes a pilgrim would barely utter the words, from either tired or hurried lips.

And we always all four returned the response. Like a chorus, we would say it together or staggered.

Buen Camino! Diane would say.

Buen Camino! Stephanie would say.

Buen Camino! I would say.

Buen Camino! LynEtte would say.

And then LynEtte would find their eyes. She let no one pass without making eye contact and asking them something.

I would turn around and a person who I thought wasn’t wanting to talk would be sharing a piece of their heart with LynEtte.

She would be mesmerized, often in tears.

I loved that she pushed through peoples’ barriers, a gift she has honed through years of raising a child who requires her special brand of perseverance.

It was difficult to get by us without getting some attention from at least one of us. If LynEtte was already talking, Diane would invite in the next pilgrim we saw.

Come and share the road with us for a while.

Sharing Everything

I’ve already mentioned that one of the best places for making friends (and for meeting them again later) was at all the stops along The Way.

We made friends by sharing our food with others at tables.

We had brought too much food in our suitcases and one night Stephanie and I loaded up a bunch of it and took it to an Albergue to share it with others.

At our tables we were quick to stick our forks in each others’ food to share tastes of new foods.

We broke pieces of granola bars and candy and whatever else we had and handed it to anyone who was around.

Diane was putting her essential oils on anyone in pain or in need of a little refreshment.

Band-aids. Moleskin. Extra socks.

What do I have that you need? has always been one of my favorite questions to ask a friend.

And on the Camino, we offered that question to strangers as well as friends.

And it is especially delightful to find someone who is willing to return the question.

Oh you poor thing. You must be starving. Look, here take this bread too.

That’s what the precious gals in this photo said to me after I finished eating their paella, standing up on the street, serving spoon scraping the serving dish to get every last bit.

Oh, dear, here take some wine.

Do I have anything else I can give you?

I wasn’t starving. I mean I was hungry, but really I was just salivating over the paella on this street cafe as we passed by.

We had already determined that we were going to eat pizza around the corner, but I wanted that paella.

And these girls saw it on my face.

My hesitation to pass by.

Look, it’s really good. Like the best paella we’ve ever had. You have to try it. 

Later, LynEtte said,

Y’all I turned around and Alison was eating off of a total stranger’s spoon. 

She fed me the first few bites. And then I took the spoon and finished the rest. And as if that wasn’t enough, I wiped the dish clean with the bread that was left. And then had a glass of wine.

All while standing up, just passing by.

On The Way.

Our journey along The Camino de Santiago was made possible by Macs Adventure, who found us the most wonderful places to sleep and made our giant suitcases magically appear in our rooms each night. 

If you enjoyed this post, you might like to read more about the Camino de Santiago. Or consider subscribing to receive stories in your inbox.

The post Camino Stories: Make Friends {Live The Way} appeared first on Alison Chino.

Friends, this is it. Number #48 of #48walks!

I’m ending an epic year of walking with this early morning walk up a mountain while I was home in Arkansas this past September.

Walking with friends who love me even if my dreadlocks blow into their faces. YIKES!

I got to pop home in September for an Arkansas Women Blogger Conference, so I fit in a few walks with my dear, dear friends.

Pinnacle Mountain is about a mile and a half to the top and back. It’s not super long but you do have to navigate some boulders.

This walk represents so much of what I have loved about walking this year: walking side by side with friends.

Even on the days I have walked alone, I have walked virtually with friends.

Every #48walks tag on the internet has been like a little hello for me this year.

I love getting reminders to get outside, and because I want to keep getting them in 2015, I have something new coming down the pipe for outdoor adventuring in the New Year (stay tuned!)

But for now, I am going to enjoy the end of this journey of doing #48walks. A year of walking to new places and trying out longer walks. Of walking with friends and even with strangers. It’s been a lovely year friends! Thanks so much for coming along!

PS The other reason I’m ending with this Arkansas walk is in honor of the fact that we are on a plane today, heading to our blessed home state for Christmas! We are super excited about soaking up a little #DogtownLife over the holidays!

The post A Walk in Arkansas (48/48) appeared first on Alison Chino.

“Hi, I’m Flea.” she said as she sat down next to me in the airport.

“Hi! I’ve been so excited to meet you! I’m Alison.”

“And this is Simon.”

“Simon, can you say hello?”

“Hi.” (small quiet voice)

I’ve mentioned before that Simon and I are introverts. In fact most of us Chinos fall on introverted side of the scale.

Sometimes when I meet someone who is truly extroverted, I think that they must be faking it. The notion of being truly comfortable talking to strangers is so foreign to me that I feel like it must be some sort of a show.

But then every once in a while I meet a truly extroverted child, and I’m reminded that some people are truly born this way. Some people really and truly, have never met a stranger.

Flea, who is nine years old, is one such child, and Simon and I had the sublime pleasure of her company on our recent journey to Mauritius. Watching Flea make friends with Simon will forever be one of the gifts of 2014 to me.

Like Harry and Hermione, Simon and Flea were fast friends, so inseparable after only a couple of days that Sally and I were scrambling to rearrange meals and excursions so that we could all be together.

Sally and I are both bloggers who love to write about travel. We were assigned to travel together as First Choice Holidays Out of Office Bloggers, and I was not at all worried about traveling with her. We met briefly in London at a pre-trip event, sans children and we both have experience with going on holidays with strangers as part of publicity campaigns. However, adding children to the mix is always a bit of a gamble. Simon and I were ecstatic about going on a sun-soaked holiday together, but I was not sure how he would get on with Sally’s little girl.

As soon as I met Flea at the airport, I knew we were going to be just fine. Sally warned me that she was chatty, and I was completely taken with her ten-minute-answer to the question, “What book are you reading?’

Simon watched me talk to Flea for a little while before he joined in, but it was not long before the two of them fell into their own little world, without any need for me.

Of course it helped that they had an awful lot in common. A mutual love for Lego and Doctor Who proved to be the breeding ground for what blossomed over the week into a sweet friendship.

They played together in the crystal blue swimming pool and on the long stretch of beach at our resort. Invented games and imaginary worlds ensued. And Sally and I relished the hours by the pool in our loungers. It was bliss.

On our excursions, they sat together on the bus rides, heads together over one of their devices, laughing at the Lego Movie or reading Big Nate. They chased monkeys around a Holy Lake, seeing who could get the closest to one.

Flea is a bit of an adventure addict, which turned out to be great for my little cautionary guy. When Simon was hesitant to come out on the deck for the catamaran ride, Flea persuaded him that the best place to drink a glass bottle of Lemon Fanta is directly underneath the sails. She also talked him into going tubing behind a speed boat. They confused the boat driver because Flea was signaling to go faster while Simon was signaling to go slower.

However, when Flea went parasailing, Simon was content to go along and just watch. But they celebrated together with fancy drinks at the pool bar afterwards.

At meals, they would head to the dessert case, tasting different offerings each night. Then they would go back to the ice cream bar to chase down their chocolate cake or macaroons with their favorite, vanilla ice cream.

Flea and Simon sat together on the flight back to London and after we parted ways, Simon told me that he was really going to miss her.

I absolutely loved watching them all week, and I was grateful that my older children were not around to taint it by teasing Simon about ‘having a girlfriend,’ which they most certainly did when we got home and Simon talked and talked about Flea.

I delight in the thought of their paths crossing again one day.

Simon and I went to Mauritius as part of my role as an Out of Office Bloggers for 2014. I’m super thankful to First Choice Holidays for such a lovely trip and for partnering us up with such fab folk! And I’m grateful to Sally and Flea for being extroverts and for jumping in and helping to make the week so much fun!

The post A Story about Making New Friends appeared first on Alison Chino.

Let me tell you about a little treasure hunt we went on to find a hidden letter in Edinburgh. 

Almost as soon as we arrived in Edinburgh a few weeks ago, Cole and Mary Polly were insistent that we find a place called the Jolly Judge.

While Taido seemed to understand their need to find this spot in the city, I remained completely oblivious until we were actually on the Royal Mile.

We had walked from our apartment and turned onto the top of the Royal Mile.  We were just beginning to take in the view of Edinburgh Castle, which until now, we had only glimpsed from afar, when Taido and the kids started to run in the opposite direction down the street.

Puzzled, Mother and I followed and barely caught up with them in time to see them turn down the alley (or close, as they are called here) underneath the sign for the Jolly Judge.

They were all down on the ground searching the wall of the close.

I see it! 

Here it is!

They were all shouting.  Taido pulled out pieces of folded up paper from the wall and when we opened them all up, to our delight, they were letters to our family.

A little note for each of us.

A girl from our hometown, named Ashley Jolly, had visited Scotland with her family in June, and though she knew we weren’t moving to Edinburgh, she figured we would get there eventually, so she wrote letters and hid them in a wall for us to find when we arrived.

Our home church collected letters and cards and memories into a book for us back in Arkansas, and she included a note in the collection that simply read,

Your letter is in the wall, near the Jolly Judge in Scotland.

You can’t believe how much fun this was to all of us!  We read her letters over and over and Instagrammed pictures of finding them.  I would have to say it was one of our highlights of our time in Edinburgh, and it was such a simple, fun idea.

It made me curious.  Have you ever left a letter hidden in a city for a future traveler?  Or have you ever found one?

We are all thinking now about how we might leave someone a letter like this some day!

Thanks Ashley!  We hope to see you on this side of the pond sometime soon! XOXO

The post Hidden Letter In Edinburgh appeared first on Alison Chino.

2 families, 4 days, 3 nights, 15 miles, 3,000 feet of elevation gain.

I had a revelation along the way last week in the mountains. Well, several actually, but the first one was this.

I really love backpacking.

Seriously.

Taido goes backpacking a lot. Three of our kids have been with him at least once.

But I had not strapped on a pack and headed into the woods for more than a long day hike in (ready for this?) 17 years.

What?

How is it that I have gone that long not doing something I love so much?

I’ve done a lot of family camping. In pop ups. In tents. Near the cars. And the bathrooms.

But backpacking is a different animal, y’all.

Backpacking is camping in its purest form.

Stripped down. Bare necessities.

Bring only what you can carry.

Friends, for me? That ain’t much. I think I weighed in at around 35 pounds.

Fortunately for my friend, Rhonda and I, we have husbands and sons who can heft closer to 75 pounds.

I’m unashamed that we had to rely on these men for our food and shelter.

In fact, nothing can take away from how proud I am of us for hiking all the way from Aspen to Crested Butte. Not even the fact that we ran into two different couples who were doing the same hike in one day that took us four. When the first couple ran (literally, y’all, RUNNING) past me on the trail and someone in our group informed us that they had left from the same place we had left from three days ago, at 8 am that morning, I said to Rhonda,

I am not letting that cheapen this experience for me one little bit.

Just think of all we’ve seen.

We’ve fallen asleep to the sound of rushing rivers,

With the stars as our canopy and the moon as our evening light.

We’ve gazed at flowers that only a handful of other people in the world will see this summer.

We’ve taken time to stop and wonder at the colors, the variety and the sheer multitude of wildflowers. 

We have carefully crossed rivers and snow fields, giving thanks for the ropes and strong hands that guided us and our children along.

We’ve sat around a campfire and eaten meals from tin bowls that tasted better than food at any restaurant because everyone knows food tastes better when you’re outside and when you’re hungry from your journey.

We’ve been humbled by our loads and received mercy from our families.  As mothers, we experienced a role reversal on the trail with our children whom we have long served. And it was good for us.  And for them.

And so much more.  The gifts are countless.  Even my greatest moments of shame on the trail have been rendered gifts to me as I reflect on our time there.

I saw what I went to see in Colorado.

I experienced the mountains in a new way.

And that experience is more precious to me than the fact that we made it from Point A to Point B.

I have so much more to share about being in the mountains, but today I am just giving thanks for the journey.  Where in your life have you seen how the journey or the experience is even more precious than the destination?

The post Along The Way appeared first on Alison Chino.

Y’all!

Last Saturday I got to do the Color Me Rad 5K in Little Rock and it was SO MUCH FUN!

I have never done a 5K before. Or any kind of K. In fact, if you have one of those stickers on the back of your car listing how many miles you ran in a marathon or a half marathon or a tri-something, well, hats off to you, but I have probably sneered at it.

Just a tiny little, silent sneer.

Because I seriously hate any kind of exercise that involves things bouncing or jiggling.

If it is not strolling around the lake or yoga, I can not be talked into doing it. If it involves special clothing or a trip to a store with the word “sports” in it, count me out. I will hike to the moon and back to see a pretty lake, but run on a treadmill? No way.

So when my friend, Kyran, asked me if I wanted to participate with a group of bloggers in the Color Me Rad 5K, I was hesitant until I clarified that a) It was going to be more of a party than a race and b) I could walk instead of run.

Then I talked my daughter into doing it with me and signed us both up.

In the flurry of emails that went around from our team, I was relieved that lots of gals seemed to be choosing a lower key walking option, and I completely ignored the emails where people used words like “training” and “running.”

In fact, instead of getting together to train, we gathered for drinks a few nights before the “race.”

Friends, this is how all exercise should be done. I think more people would go in for exercising if the picture was a little less sweat and bounce at the gym and a little more wine glasses and girl talk around a fire pit.

When race day arrived, I wondered if there would be a big crowd of folks with timing gadgets and protein gels, jogging in place in a claustrophobia-inducing jumble at the start line, but this was totally not the case.

Since I’ve never done a 5K before, I can’t really compare it to other runs, but the vibe at Color Me Rad is a little like the deck of a cruise ship. I couldn’t find the fruity drinks, but I’m sure they were hiding underneath the Red Bull table somewhere.

At the front there was some Zumba happening, along with lots of fun music, some party games and a few early color bombs to get you excited about turning your white clothes into a rainbow.

In retrospect, it’s funny how we were all rushing for a few little drops of color at the beginning. At the first few color stations, I would go through slowly because I was afraid I wasn’t quite getting enough. I wanted to be TECHNICOLORED! Silly me! At the end, you go through many puffy clouds of color and even get a few color pouches handed to you to throw on each other after you finish!

SO MUCH COLOR!

AND SO MUCH FUN!

Seriously, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do a 5K now where someone wasn’t throwing something at me. I mean really, it would be so boring.

Now I totally want to get in on the other side and be a color THROWER! Right? I think that would be just as fun!

Have you ever done a Color Run? Did you LOVE it!?

Disclosure: I totally got to walk this 5K for freebies because I am a blogger, but I didn’t even have to promise to show up. However, I am glad I did, because it was SUPER FUN!

More Pictures!

All clean! Here’s a few more before pictures:

And…AFTER!

SO fun!  Much thanks to Kyran for organizing and to my running/walking buddies: Mary Polly, Whitney, Sarabeth, Elizabeth, Kerri, Sarah, Amy and Jacklyn

The post Color Me Rad appeared first on Alison Chino.