You Don’t Have to Travel Halfway Around the World to Be Active
I’m a travel writer, so it’s my job to turn you on to places around the globe I think you should definitely check out. But after spending a glorious weekend at home in the Boston area, I’m just as happy to see you venture outdoors in your own backyard and remain active. I spent Saturday at my favorite oasis, Broadmoor, a Mass Audubon retreat, staring at numerous turtles sunbathing on upturned logs in the Charles River, found three snakes, and watched Canadian Geese and their cute furry goslings go for a dip. On Sunday, I went biking in Dover and Millis past horse farms, pasture, and absurdly large homes. Spring is finally here, so make sure to take advantage and Go Play!
After hiking on Mount Desert Island’s Quiet Side, biking 
I could easily fill this column with content from Africa over the next two weeks, but you’ll have to read my magazine articles to see more. It’s time to move on to other regions of the world, like fall foliage in my native New England. Before I leave the continent, I want to touch on some of the highlights from Cape Town that I have not yet discussed. Loved the small plates at 
Arriving at Lake Willoughby from the south, the dark blue waters come into view, dwarfed by faces of rock that stand directly across from each other—Mount Hor and Mount Pisgah. Here, cliffs plummet precipitously over 1,000 feet to the glacial waters below. The scenery becomes even more enchanting as you snake your way to the 2,751-foot summit of Pisgah. The trail starts easily on switchbacks. Halfway up, take a slight detour to the left to stand atop Pulpit Rock. This small, semi-circular ledge juts out of Mount Pisgah like a box seat at a Broadway play. The arduous trail proceeds upward in a spiral fashion. On a clear day, you should be able to spot the spine of the Green Mountains and that distinctive peak seen across much of Vermont, Camel’s Hump. Who needs to visit nearby St. Johnsbury’s Athenaeum and view Albert Bierstadt’s famous painting, Domes of Yosemite, when you can see such natural beauty come to life less than an hour north?
Mention the Allagash River to a canoeist and his eyes suddenly become moist and dreamy as he inevitably responds, “Yeah, I’d like to go there someday.” The river has somehow attained legendary stature. Perhaps it’s the way the blue streak of water slips off the map of America’s northern fringes, remote and isolated, hundreds of miles from the nearest metropolis. Or maybe it’s the legacy of writer, philosopher, and inveterate traveler Henry David Thoreau, who ventured down the waterway a mere 155 years ago, waxing lyrically about the last great frontier in the East in his book, The Maine Woods. Whatever the reason, the 92-mile Allagash Wilderness Waterway continues to lure 10,000-plus paddlers to its shores every summer, turning farfetched dreams into reality. Paddle the Allagash in September like I did and you’ll be treated to moose in heat, fall foliage colors, and no bugs. Go with a trusted guide like 
The crown jewel of Maine’s mid-coast, the 230-acre 
In 1891, Boston landscape architect Charles Eliot received the go-ahead from the Legislature to establish The Trustees of Reservations “for the purposes of acquiring, holding, maintaining and opening to the public . . . beautiful and historic places . . . within the Commonwealth.” Today, the