Aroamas scent line-up.

Despite preparing for a month of travel in America (starting tomorrow!), a lot of my time over the past couple weeks had been spent getting my ducks in a row for The Rocks Markets last weekend. Yes, yours truly has been approved for trade at Sydney’s premier markets, and my first weekend of Aroamas market stalling there was last Saturday and Sunday.

Up until this point, I had occasionally done the Saturday stall at Glebe Markets – a market that has a pretty much Boho vibe. It’s also a place where girls go to offload their eclectic designer wardrobes and where many people go to hunt for that “diamond in the rough”. Think flower headbands, fun jewelry, and hippies importing Thai clothing. Luckily for me, this means that lots of the younger crowd and a good number of tourists stop by and make it worth my while.

But even though I’ve had good fortune overall, it’s been one big learning process. Every stall ends with the question, “What could we do better next time?” We’ve come a long way since that first public appearance at the Rozelle Markets a year ago where I had a tablecloth that didn’t even cover the entire table, and tester sticks just laying near the edge. Rozelle was not the markets for me… but with all that I’ve learned in the past year, I think it *could* be if I approach it correctly.

Here are some of the pointers I’ve learned in my market stalling adventures that you can apply to your own, or just use as guidelines for any business – even blogging!

Know Your Market Demographic

Even though almost any woman loves a perfume, everything from the fragrance to the packaging and presentation can appeal to different females. Younger women tend to favor the sweet or fruity Aroamas fragrances while older women love those musky and powdery scents. It helps being able to recommend alternatives on the spot – instead of letting them try one or two and walking away – but I do plan on also taking alternate choices to keep behind the table for the women looking for that something specific. I highly recommend any market stall holder to bring a variety of merchandise even if it doesn’t hit the table, or fit the exact theme. You never know who might be ready to buy.

In addition, you need to know why people are shopping at that particular market. When it comes to Glebe Markets, for example, people shop there for a bargain – for that one special item they found while rummaging through piles and piles of someone’s old wardrobe. So, at the last stall I had there, I started the Bargain Bin. It consisted of unlabeled or imperfect perfume sticks that I had made up but didn’t feel fit the Aroamas line. I placed them all in a jar with the fragrance notes listed on them and let people buy them for just $2.

And buy them they did. I sold 27 sticks from that jar, which both helped me get a better return from my day at the stall, and to clear out some items I had sitting in my closet feeling unloved. People really enjoyed the act of rummaging through the jar, too.

Make Your Signage CLEAR

Having a product that comes in a lip balm tube is difficult to handle at markets where people walk by and glance quickly from stall to stall. Despite having printed dozens of signs in the past, everything from a sign that says, “This is NOT a Lip Balm,” to a front of table banner that says, “Travel Perfume,” the majority of people associate my tubes with a lip product unless I holler that it’s otherwise. (Yes, the number of times people back up and say, “Oh, I thought it was lip balm!” was mind blowing.)

The changing point for me was when I moved to chalk board signs that boldly say Solid Perfumes on them. The strong contrasting letters on a black background can be read from a distance, and I heard many people this past weekend reading my signage from across the street before heading over for a sniff. Finally!

Don’t Make Your Table Overwhelming

We’re coming up on about 20 fragrances in the Aroamas shop right now, but anything over 10 presented on the table to sample is just too overwhelming for most. Not only that, but it leads to scent overload for the nose. I’ve decided to cull the fragrances to a solid 10 at any one table.

A Glebe Markets Setup: parasol, printed signs, and tester tubes starting from one side with eye masks and pouches on the other. Not the best layout.

Also, table organization and layout is key. I used to just put all the tester sticks in a row at the edge of the table starting at one end, leaving room at the other end for random products like eye masks and travel inspired jewelry. This wasn’t as visually appealing as it could have been, and it also caused a bit of chaos at the one side. Now, I place 5 tester sticks on each side of the table so one group can try five without getting in the way of another group trying the rest.

Draw the Eye to the Prize

While the cost of a single Aroamas stick is just $8 AUD, I keep it in mind that I’m selling a $20 product instead. Our 3-stick premade packs are our most popular options online given their variety and discounted rate. However, past market stalls didn’t see many 3 stick pack sales and instead have been the accumulation of many individual sticks and choose-any combos.

I’m thinking now it has been the placement of the packs at the market stalls that have caused them to be lacking in sales. I used to put them in a little cardboard suitcase kind of off to the side of the table, but over the past weekend in The Rocks, I put a board with the premade stick packs right in the center of the table, right where the eye is driven by the angled placement of tester tubes and product. We sold dozens.

*When I say “we”, I’m referring to Patrick and I. He’s a huge help at the markets!

Build Your (Potential) Customer List

I try to see every market stall as an open door for future sales, even if they aren’t happening as gangbuster-y at that exact moment. With that in mind, we try to collect emails to grow the mailing list in any way possible.

We have people enter giveaways for free sticks, or sign up to the mailing list to get some free samples to take home with them. After the market, we then send a thank you email with a discount code just for stopping by to see us. I always tell people that they will get one email from me and are free to unsubscribe at that time, but rarely do people unsubscribe.

If time is short, people are in a hurry, or people are not receptive to giving out their email, we at least try to get a business card in their hands with our shop address!

Go Out to the Front of the Table

People are curious by nature and therefore are drawn to crowds. If no one is at the stall and it’s been quiet for a while, I tend to go out front to straighten things up, get any debris off the tester tubes, and occasionally I’ll go through and pretend like I’m “shopping”. More often than not, someone will soon come up behind and start doing the same.

Sign up forms for the giveaways also keep people at the stall for longer, helping to draw more of a crowd.

Bring More Product Than You Think

When I first started, I had really really high expectations for Aroamas at the markets. Surely these are going to sell like hot cakes at any market! And I worried about not having enough. After a few goes, I had a pretty good idea of a range of product I would sell at each stall, at least over at Glebe. However, this past weekend at The Rocks Markets reinforced my previous mantra of bringing more than you think because I actually ended up selling out of Parisian on Sunday, and came close with several others!

Have Your Boyfriend Sell

Pat is awesome at talking (he kind of talks a lot) and he’s super personable, which makes him a huge asset at the markets. He sold so much perfume this weekend!

A Gazebo is Worth It

I put off buying a gazebo at the beginning because I didn’t want the hassle of putting it up and taking it down. Plus, I didn’t want to invest. Instead, I got a cheap parasol from Ikea that helps a bit and looks cool – but after being at The Rocks Markets where gazebos are provided, I’m totally sold on the benefits of investing. It helps make the stall feel like a real space, it protects the entire table from the sun and weather, and it gives you a place to hang things (like signs) to help keep your table from being over cluttered. Yes, worth it.

Stall at The Rocks Markets: Next time we’ll have more hanging fun and perhaps a backdrop and sides.

While not a travel adventure, market stalling has been a whirlwind of experiences, along with a great way to meet people from far and wide. I guess in a way, trying to start a business and putting myself out there at markets is a lot like travel – throwing yourself into new places and being forced to get out of your comfort zone. I’m really enjoying it, and I’m sure it’s been helping to keep my travel bug from causing a stronger itch.

The post Adventures in Market Stalling appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Despite my lack of blogging, commenting, or updating of BvtW social media, I am in fact very much alive and well, living in the great land down under and continuing various projects on the interwebz – just not so much around this domain.

You see, life has been a little less travel-y these days, and a whole lot more busy. But in a good way, of course. My time has been devoted more to the projects that correlate more directly with an income and future growth – and that just doesn’t leave much time for anything else (besides craft nights – gotta have craft nights).

Preparing 4th of July deco on craft night – usually involves more wine than crafts. And lots of glitter, to my boyfriend’s dislike. Photo by @hannahdemilta

In the middle of all the hubbub, there has also been a slight shift in what I would consider my passions, and after the longest time of beating myself up for not being able to give anything to Brooke vs. the World, because I had not only the hours but also the desire, I gave myself permission to let it go… at least for a while. At least until I decided how I want to proceed.

So, here we are. It’s been an unthinkable 8 months since my last update on this blog, and it’s been just as long since my last overseas trip. Sure, I’ll be heading to the States again next month, but I can’t say that I’ve been particularly heartbroken with playing it low-key in Sydney (must be the whole 30s thing).

I’ve just been focused on other goals. Instead of looking at the one goal of all travel all the time, my main want has evolved into starting a business and being more successful, stable and reliable. And more diverse. I mentioned craft nights before, right?

And with all these shifts, I kind of felt like I didn’t know how to handle my personal travel focused blog… hello, radio silence.

But after stepping away for a while, I now have a clearer vision. Just as my goals and dreams in life have evolved (I still want to travel, but just not for the sake of travel), my blog will evolve, too. Brooke vs. the World will continue to be personal, with a strong emphasis on traveling and living abroad (and all the opportunities and inspiration acquired from it), but it will also talk about all the other things I take on in the world… like starting a small business, being crafty or converting to a (mostly) vegan diet.

You know, whatever floats my blogging boat at the moment.

BvtW is back!

Well, let’s wait and see how long it takes for me to get the next post up before we get too excited

The post Whatever Floats My Blogging Boat appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Omani doors pop vibrantly from golden sandstone buildings (houses, garages, you name it) in a way that lures the mind just as much as it lures the body to stop and photograph them.

“Come in, come in,” I imagine these inanimate objects saying. “Let’s discuss life, our families and our friends while sipping cardamon flavored coffee and nibbling on honey-like dates until we’ve had our fill.”

I would consider this my ultimate afternoon in Oman. A little dose of local hospitality paired with the delicious flavors the country has to offer are a combination that is rarely delivered one without the other. It’d be like a sandwich without its filler; peanut butter without its jam. After spending 9 glorious days partaking in what this small Middle Eastern country presents as its own, my main takeaways revolve around hospitality of the locals combined with the sensory stimuli — smell and taste being the strongest.

Oman gets you from the start. Besides incensing the entrances and foyers of hotels with the perfume of Frankincense, there are often little stands laden with tiny cups, stacks of the most decadent local dates, and a tall, ornate pot of fragrant Omani coffee. And get this, it’s free for the taking. Now I’m no newb to the world of dates, but good, caramel-like dates come with a big price in Australia. When people are practically throwing free dates at you, well, who am I to pass that up?

My weakness: dates and coffee. YUM.

If you find yourself in the same sort of stand-and-devour-countless-dates situation, just do what I did: Keep telling yourself that you are getting your fiber, protein, potassium, magnesium, zinc and so on up to appropriate levels. Conscience appeased.

And don’t forget the coffee.

While the naturally sweet date is a treat on its own, paired with the traditional cardamon and clove flavored coffee takes the fragrant and delicious food experience to the next level. After living in Australia for 4 years, I have taken that coffee snobbery to heart, knowing how a cappuccino should be served and so on, but Omani coffee, while watery and unmilky, trumps them all.

Pouring the tea at our Moroccan meal. Very dramatic.

It goes without saying that our trip to Oman was indulgent; the coffee and dates are just the beginning.

On one night we were transported to a Moroccan inspired meal of tagines and couscous; on another we were introduced to the more local dishes at Ubhar, which also included camel, stewed and slow-cooked until it was tender. The group I was with was the most excited about trying this hump-backed creature, and it actually ended up being the overall favorite.

Stewed camel at Ubhar restaurant in Muscat.

Soup with seafood dumplings.

Chicken biryani.

One lunch took place in a bedouin tent in the desert consisting of curries and chicken biryani with a show of music and dancing, that seemed to possess more of an African flair, for our entertainment.

Welcome to your lunch destination!

Lunch starting in a bedouin tent.

Lunchtime entertainment.

We took breaks with the tastes of India. With about 20% of the Omani population being Indian or of Indian heritage, it is no surprise that Indian food, drinks, and even language are mainstream. Indulging in many cups of sweet chai tea, which is available at side street cafes and hole-in-the-walls, is a must on my list.

Chai tea break. WARNING: Do not drink in car or else you might spill it all over yourself and feel very embarrassed.

We hunted down the honey (take a look at Ben’s amazing photos). This turned into an adventure all its own, because, well, we took a few wrong turns in the barren “outback” of Oman on the way. I’m not going to lie; I quite enjoyed the sense of being in the middle of nowhere.

You can’t see in this photo, but swarms of bees are flying around the green part of the wall. I’ll keep my distance!

The bees are kept here, in hollowed out date palms made into hives.

Omani honey has a unique flavor. When you stand there eating numerous pieces of honeycomb, just tell yourself that it’s the good, natural kind of sugar. Conscience appeased!

We had a laid-back lunch in the surrounds of a hilly village oasis, where we were bathed in peace and strips of sunlight.

We were still waiting for food at this point.

My photos do not do it justice in the least! This was a yummy feast that I have no photos of.

And we journeyed to the Sifawy boutique hotel where a chef introduced us to the world of Omani seafood, also while giving a cooking lesson on how to make hummus, baba ganoush, fatoush and gazpacho.

Preparing the hummus.

The fish and lobster.

We traveled from coast to desert, and from city to village, in the search for the next unforgettable bite. The food and drink of Oman is honestly a trip worth taking all its own. And why not? With spiced coffees and teas, rich curries and rice, the fragrant gastronomy of this Middle Eastern country couldn’t be more enticing, fulfilling, and, most of all, surprising to the unknowing taste buds of first-time travelers. For those that are thinking of venturing to Oman on holiday, I have one simple thought to leave you with today: Sensory delights await.

Disclaimer: I was invited to explore Oman and share my experiences with my readers courtesy of Oman Tourism. All thoughts expressed in this article are my own.

The post Omani Food and Drink: Sensory Delights Await appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Many countries of the world don’t put such a high demand on items that alter the natural scent of the human body. Since I knew practically nothing about Oman before traveling there, I naively had the preconceived notion that it might be one of those places.

An oasis in hot Oman.

Only I learned on arrival from our group leader that the situation was exactly the opposite in Oman, and people there pride themselves on smelling of beautiful, rich fragrances. In fact, it’s an integral part of their culture that, straight from birth, the Omani people are adorned in unique aromas, such as rose oil, frankincense and sandalwood — fragrances that us Westerners might consider unusual. But it doesn’t stop there. The use of perfumery turns into a form of artistic self expression. Omani people learn the art of layering different scents according to seasons, occasions and mood; fragrances are applied to the person, hair, clothing and smoked into the air.

Men also take an active part in the process of smelling nice. In hopes of encountering random whiffs of appealing scents, those little tassels that hang off the front of the dishdasha are often dipped in a fragrance of something simple like rose oil, or something more luxurious, like the famed fragrances of Amouage.

Our press trip itinerary included a stop at the factory of Amouage, the Muscat home of the world’s most valuable perfume, or as the website states, “The gift of kings.” While a perfume factory tour might not sound like the most exciting activity…

I was absolutely, positively floored.

You see, I’ve been working on a side project that started with a simple idea at the beginning of the year. With a dream of creating a travel-focused product, I finally decided to tackle a solid perfume stick (called AROAMAS), and in order to do so, I had to find and choose pleasant fragrances.

So began the task. Prior to heading to Oman, I had my nose in dozens of different fragrance oils, making sure to pick apart, like a fine wine, the notes creating the top, middle and base of a scent. I read descriptions for designer perfumes and would devour the fragrance sections in the shopping malls to give my nose a further workout. It started to become apparent that the fragrances that really made me want to smell more were the complex ones with earthy elements.

Amouage, the gift of kings.

Which brings us to Amouage.

Amouage is a luxury brand of perfume that draws its inspiration from the traditional smells of the Sultanate of Oman. Started in 1983, the main goal of this brand was to bring life to the frankincense industry, which acts as a key note in the fragrance line. Combined with bottle caps resembling a traditional Omani dagger handle, Amouage has produced a product that is also a cultural symbol.

With a luxury brand that claims to be, “The gift of kings,” and one that rich people from across the Middle East stock up on and then proceed to essentially bathe in, I expected nothing less than an entrance lined with a sparkly gold pool and reflective metal awning.

The shiny and gold entrance to Amouage.

Reflection in the metal awning.

We were first brought into a room that let us learn about the complexities of Amouage fragrances, those of which were broken down into individual scents. A station full of ingredients allowed us to get a closer sniff at both the individual notes involved in the perfume process and how unique these Middle Eastern perfumes are compared to what I’m used to smelling back home.

The scent ingredients that make up Amouage fragrances.

Although we were given but a taste of the scents (maybe a dozen or so sniffer jars), the Amouage line is actually concocted from 120 natural ingredients, with a large focus on the gifts from the East: frankincense and myrrh.

Frankincense, the heart of Amouage.

Frankincense.

After our introduction to the line and the idea behind it, we moved on to the factory portion of the tour. We were unable to photograph the workers themselves, but do believe that each and every perfume is bottled by hand. A note with the name of the individual worker that carefully finished the product is included with each package for a cute and personal touch.

Where the magic happens.

Fragrance oils… and reflections.

Finally, the actual product is presented, and at this point I’m engrossed in anticipation. The last room on the tour is laden with bottles of the Amouage line, both masculine and feminine scents, and we are given scent strips of each and every one to sample. After that, we are encouraged to wear the fragrances to see how they mesh with our personal chemistries and change over time. That’s the beauty of perfumery: It’s unique. It evolves. We wear fragrances differently depending on how they react with our own bodies and skin types. Scents change as top notes fade and middle and bottom notes stick. Some women actually wear the masculine version of the fragrances better because of these points.

The experience was one that stuck with me more than most given my recent obsession with perfumes, but also simply because I discovered some eclectic fragrances that, in my opinion, smell just as beautiful (if not more) than those traditional ones lining the shelves at the local mall in America or Australia and so on. If I could have afforded the over $100 price tag for a bottle, I would have invested in a luxury fragrance from Amouage (these prices get up to nearly $300 a bottle in Australia – yes, something I’d only own if gifted), but I am definitely lucky to have been sent home with several free samples.

I’m a big fan of the Amouage MEMOIR fragrance.

They are a little piece of Oman, right here in Sydney.

Have you ever had the pleasure of smelling the perfumes of Amouage?

The post The Fragrant Lifestyle of Oman: Perfumery appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Amsterdam. Reminds me of Venice and St. Petersburg.

While traveling between Rotterdam and Amsterdam, something happened repeatedly that caught my attention.

Anytime someone Dutch saw my last name, on an itinerary, hotel room reservation and so on, they would always say, “That’s a good Dutch name.”

In Dutch, my last name, Schoenman, means “shoe man” (or so I’m told).

But let me tell you something about my last name.

I love it. I love my last name so much that I would never change it. In fact, in the Schoenman + Choy relationship, I’d have to say that Schoenman would definitely be the dominant one! Pat loves it when I say that.

Amsterdam: Bikes everywhere!

But in all seriousness, my very German (and not Dutch) last name has a rather interesting meaning: Beautiful Man. Yes, I apparently come from a clan of beautiful men — or a clan of very conceited men, I’m not sure. We weren’t blacksmiths, or plow men, or even manly men. For some reason the people of the past thought that my ancestors’ defining feature was their beauty. Doesn’t that seem funny! The more I think about it, the more I wonder if maybe my fellow Germans were just taking the piss.

And of course, names change over time. Back in the German days, Schoenman looked different, probably with an umlaut thrown in the mix, and actually, it wasn’t until my grandpa served his country that the extra “n” was dropped from the American version of Schoenmann.

This was a strange re-realization I had earlier this year when my family received some shocking news about a long lost relative — my grandpa’s brother who went missing in the Korean War. I won’t go into details in this post, but you can read more about this touching story here.

When reading this story in articles and seeing it hit the TV, I couldn’t help but have one of those little red lights go on in the back of my brain whenever I saw Schoenmann, with two N’s at the end. The point I’m getting at here is the intriguing way that language and names evolve over time, and by seeing this news story, I realized how recent a change that was for my immediate family line. My grandpa started using the shortened version after being in the US armed services, when his superior officer dropped the extra “n” off. Yet, all of his siblings, and their direct family lines, still use the other spelling.

I find that a little fascinating, don’t you?

If I had more time, I would love to attempt some genealogical research and find more information on my very German (and not Dutch) last name.

What can you tell me about your last name?

The post That’s a Good Dutch Name appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

My 30s.

My 30th Birthday – Pat, me, Michael, Hannah, Lisa – photo by Michael Air.

No longer am I a 20-something wanna-be traveler, penny-pinching and saving every dime in preparation for this all-encompassing world trip that was sure to be the most prolific thing that has ever happened to human kind. Those days have come and gone, and now I’m at an age where there’s a reason why my feet and back hurt after a day of touring. An age where I’ve already packed a dozen backpacks and suitcases, have journeyed solo, have worked for a place to sleep, have created a new life in a distant land.

I’ve mulled over my thoughts about this milestone for the past few weeks, and everyone I talk to about turning 30 pretty much gives me two pieces of wisdom/encouragement: 1) You don’t look 30. 2) Thirties are AWESOME.

In response to number 1, thank you. Besides having good genes in that regard (hat-tip, mom), I think I’ve done a few things in my life right. I don’t smoke, I don’t party hard, and I tend to stay out of the sun. That last one is key, ladies! During my teenage years when other girls were dropping cash at the tanning salons, I used to say (as my mom reminded me the other day), “When I’m older, I’m going to look like a peach.” Way to look ahead, young me.

As for number 2, well, I hope so! I’m told that the 30s involve having a lot more confidence, self-acceptance, focus, and the means to have all that fun you could not afford during your 20s. Even though I’m still desperately lacking in the self-acceptance area, and confidence for that matter (we’ll get to that when I bring up my TBU presentation last month), I do know that I have changed substantially in the past few years leading up to this point.

I spent a lot of my 20s feeling unsure, unhappy, uneasy and anxious; I was always in search of something different, something new, something FAR FAR AWAY. Always getting somewhere and needing to change it up once life became dull and unsatisfying again.

I owe my extensive travel resume and numerous unique life experiences to these feelings, but I now know that I haven’t always traveled for the right reasons. That’s OK. I’d say a lot of other travelers have similar back stories.

Cookie Cake! Photo by Hannah DeMilta.

I had mentioned before on the blog several ideas that tie into this piece, such as my thoughts on how Australia has killed the budget traveler in me. One thing I didn’t mention in that post was the whole aging aspect and how going shoe-string backpacker budget style just isn’t as exciting/enticing the older you get. Or what about my post on non-travel life musings where I talk about balancing travel and home life so that I’m not going from one extreme (high when traveling) to another (low when back home, missing out on friends’ events, and not being able to get a puppy).

On the last couple of trips abroad, I was actually looking forward to returning home to Sydney.

And I have been, this entire year, completely fine with the idea of hanging around at home.

Ok, maybe I would be thinking differently if I hadn’t been granted so many lucky travel experiences in the past few months (Carnival Cruise, Tasmania, Oman and Holland)!

I do believe I have a different outlook on travel these days, and different priorities. Travel takes a lot of time and energy, and constantly feeling tired, broke and like I’m not involved in other people’s lives year after year can be a bit depressing. Travel is a trade-off. Have wild and crazy life adventures but disconnect yourself from those in your home life. For example: I’ve missed my friend Lauren’s birthday party, engagement party, and sadly, her going away party in the last year because I was traveling at the time. Lame, right?

Whether or not it’s the 30 talking, I don’t know. What I do know is that I want a little bit more structure to my life right now than I had throughout my transient 20s. But I’m sure that whole novelty will wear off in a matter of months, and you’ll see me pining for more open-ended adventures in no time. That part of me will never fully disappear.

Oh wait, did I tell you that I’m going to Germany next month?

Yep.

That will be the beginning of my 30s travel life. Where will it go from there? Your guess is as good as mine right now!

The post 30s Travel appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Desert Nights Camp in Oman – A luxury camp worth splurging on.

Oman is an interesting country, and what’s really interesting is how little the normal person actually knows about it.

• A unique mix of Middle Eastern, Indian and African cultures. Check.
• Delicious food and amazing hospitality. Check.
• A wide range of landscapes including beaches, mountains and desert. Check.

Everyone asks me about my trip to Oman, and I can’t help but feel like a paid advertisement while gushing forth this and that because… it was just that good. Honestly, I’d send my non-travel-y family members to Oman and not think twice about it. Yes, mom, you should go! Not only was it beautiful, peaceful and culturally interesting, it also possessed a feeling of being rather safe. You can leave your passport behind in a hotel (someone on our trip did this) and not fear for its return because, as locals told us: If you lose something in Oman, it comes back to you.

Not a person in our media group left Oman without being wowed by the wonders of the country that so few set off to explore.

Did you know that Omani capital city, Muscat, is just a 45 minute plane ride from Dubai? Yep.

So get over there!

And when you arrive, make sure that you don’t leave without doing this.

Dune Bashing

Dune bashing also involved going down some crazy steep slopes.

Trying to video and photo a very bumpy ride!

Having a blast in the backseat!

Spotting the other car off in the distance.

Dune bashing, Oman – so much fun!

Quad Biking

I’m such a badass.

Don’t ask, because I don’t know.

One of the funnest things EVER.

Ben living in the moment.

You MUST go to the desert and go quad biking. Fun guaranteed.

Camel Riding

Picture perfect camels at Desert Nights Camp.

On the back of some fluffy camels.

Camel at the Desert Nights Camp.

Cute camel crossing sign. I guess that’s what that means?

Taking in the View in the Dunes

Desert sun.

Breath-taking.

Oman desert footsteps

Sands blowing in the breeze.

Amy in the dunes.

Watching the sunset on top of the sand dunes.

In other words, you can’t go to Oman without visiting the desert!

Seriously, your mind, body, and soul will thank you for the magical experience of being in the sandy dunes.

As long as you’re not there in the middle of summer.

– – – – –
If you’d like to learn more about Oman, check out the site on why it is the Side trip of a Lifetime.

The post You Can’t Go to Oman Without Doing This appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

* * * * *

It comes into view as a whirling tornado, causing destruction and chaos while sounds of crazed gobbledygook fill the air.

For most of the world, this is what a Tasmanian devil looks and acts like – like the Looney Tunes character known and loved throughout television watching generations.

But did you know that the Tassie devil is both real and mostly docile?

True story.

In fact, on my recent trip to Tasmania’s North West, I pet a real, live, calm Tasmanian devil.

Brooke, Danielle, and Aussie the Tasmanian Devil

His name is Aussie, born and raised in captivity, so I DO NOT RECOMMEND TRYING THIS AT HOME (the claws on those little guys are impressive). However, I do recommend paying him a visit at the lovely Tasmanian devil sanctuary, Devils@Cradle.

Devils@Cradle offers visitors an open pen experience, where peering over the top of an enclosure lets us see into the daily lives of these cute little creatures. The sad side of this story, however, is the reasoning behind the need for such a sanctuary.

Aussie, the Tasmanian devil

See, Aussie has been raised and prized as a resident of Devils@Cradle because of his genetic background, with one of his parents having come from the area near the Arthur River. Tasmanian devils of this area are believed to have a natural genetic resistance to the devil facial tumor disease (DFTD) that has been heavily endangering the wild population in recent years. DFTD, while once thought to be caused by a virus or carcinogens and pollution, is now understood as a cancer, and one that is actually transferred through physical contact – like fighting, which in devils is both common and done with aggressive bites to the face.

Sources say that the overall devil population has declined in the region of 80-95%.

Luckily, there are still healthy devils around, like Aussie, and animal sanctuaries, like Devils@Cradle, battling the disease through research, education and protection. Years of looking closely at the disease has unveiled that lack of genetic diversity in the population may enable the mutation of the facial tumor to run rampant. That’s where our little Aussie comes in.

Danielle and Aussie

Because of natural barriers separating the east and west sides of Tasmania, the population in the north west presents a slightly different genetic background, and one that hasn’t seen the same effects of the disease. The key at this point in devil conservation is simply breeding devils of different regions and backgrounds in hopes that it strengthens the remaining population.

During my brief visit to Devils@Cradle, Aussie was introduced, for the 3rd time, to a lovely little lady devil. You could tell he was walking on eggshells after being placed in the pen where potential lady friend rested in her shelter; after hearing about the encounters on the two previous occasions, it was not hard to understand why!

Aussie the devil, walking on eggshells.

All was calm and peaceful for several minutes until, apparently, Aussie got a bit too close for comfort. Lady devil spun right out of her shelter and chased him away in that cartoon-like aggressiveness.

Talk about playing hard to get!

I guess she just doesn’t know the severe importance of this particular mating encounter. You know, the whole future-of-the-species-depends-on-it kind. No, lady devil, this is not just another lame pick-up line.

But Devils@Cradle worker Danielle and her team are determined to keep pushing the pair. Hopefully, with a little match-making and a watchful eye, the future of the iconic Tasmanian devil will not be written alongside the likes of its once upon a time neighbor, the Tasmanian tiger.

* * * * *

Devils@Cradle is open daily from 10am, and is easily accessible on the way to Cradle Mountain.

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Our youngish Omani male tour guide somehow has managed to acquire the most eclectic and, dare I say it, ridiculous mix of pop music, mostly from the 80s and 90s, on his Samsung. It’s connected to the Prado’s sound system, and while we drive through the various landscapes of the Sultanate of Oman, we intermittently hit a song or two where we can all sing a line. Then it happens.

The theme song from Aladdin, A Whole New World, hits the speakers and we hush, momentarily, in a collaborative recognition that this is the most ridiculous, cheesy and therefore perfect accompaniment to our trip in the Middle East that could ever possibly be.

Yes, there is some singing.

Brooke, Amy and Dusk in the back of the Party Prado.

It was, as you could expect, corny in every which way, but it worked. We were on one of the most magical trips imagined in Oman, and it was a whole new world for us. For me, especially, since I had never been to the Middle East before – the closest prior being Turkey.

And now I find myself enamored with the sights, the sounds, the smells of this part of the world. Which could be a bit of a curse. I’m still living with a dream of hitting up the former Soviet countries of the world; too many options on my list make future travel decisions… hmm… difficult.

So, hat-tip to you, Oman. You’ve definitely done your job at opening doors.

With that in mind, I’d like to leave you with a collection of Omani door photos. The doors of Oman are a famous feature of the local culture, bright and vibrant with an aura that speaks of invitations (hopefully accompanied with coffee and dates). Imagine solid sand-colored buildings that blend into the backdrop with one boldly decorated front door.

If you’d like to learn more about Oman, check out the site on why it is the Side trip of a Lifetime.

The post The Sultanate of Oman: Opening Doors appeared first on Brooke vs. the World.

Journey to the Edge of the World

Day one of my whirlwind tour of Tasmania’s North West starts in a bit of a blur, strengthened by a missed connecting flight the night before to the small, regional airport of Burnie. Luckily, Don Monk, my personal tour guide for the next three days, is there waiting for my morning arrival. After doing the somewhat awkward is-that-you glance upon scanning the faces of the small group of people at the arrival gate, we confirm that we each are who the other is expecting and make our way to his lovely 4WD plastered with the logo for his Edge of the World Locations tour business.

Immediately, that tour company name rings a bell, and as I speak to Don about why he started his business with that name, I get a little pumped. I once wrote an article on unique place names in Australia, and yes, there is actually a place that honors the name of The Edge of the World. And… guess what… Don says he’ll take me there. To The Edge of the World.

My sweet ride for 3 days.

As a traveler who has a special sort of fascination with places that tend to be remote, hard to reach, less traveled and miles away from anything I might normally know or associate with life when I’m sitting behind the desk at a computer screen – the opportunity to see and sense a place that has literally been named as such sent shockwaves of excitement through my system. Give me the choice between big city and complete desolation and I’ll go with the latter, stand on the highest hill in silence and stare into the never-ending distance thinking that life, the Earth and the universe – in their element — are truly grand.

The stop wasn’t listed on my targeted itinerary. Screw the itinerary; take me there. I make my wishes clear, and Don sets off with the mission of showing me his backyard, and, as if we’d stepped into some sort of historical fiction, the most untouchable bits at the world’s edge.

Immediately, the road outside of Burnie and Wynyard – the main service towns for the regional area – displays rolling hills of green farmland and cattle land, growing everything from corn and potatoes (reminding me thoroughly of roads out in the Midwest of America) to medical grade poppies. Out the window, my eyes are met with straight lines of fields in colors of dark red dirt to electric green, while to the right we catch glimpses of the sea and it’s rocky encased beaches – both of which (rich farm and rocky shores) are a throwback to this regions volcanic history.

Fields of poppies.

Somewhere in the midst of this quiet rural bliss hides Table Cape Tulip Farm (Van Diemen Quality Bulbs), the home of one of the world’s best climates for growing bulbs (tulips being key here, but also Dutch iris and illiums). We speak briefly to David, the current owner’s son, who is in a bit of a panic given we’d popped by on the busiest day of their year: the day they ship out a year’s worth of bulb orders to customers across the globe. Also sad that we missed the tulip blooming season – from late September to October – when the fields explode with color, he suggests we have a peek at the Table Cape Light House which could be described as the 2nd most unique secret spot in the area. Climb to the top of this old lighthouse to see where the farm meets the sea in a 360 degree panorama. Not quite the edge of the world, but you could have fooled me into thinking otherwise.

Table Cape Lighthouse

Our day continues with a calm journey along slow winding roads that dip into small passes of leafy, cool temperate rainforest. I am content in the passenger side of the vehicle, listening to Don tell tales of anything and everything Tasmania related (he’s already proven to be the ultimate resource) in between blasts of cool air through the window – just what is needed to offset the strong, hot Tassie sun (you’ve been warned).

“This is a really specky place,” becomes a common phrase from Don’s mouth during our 3 days together, uttered first at the Rocky Cape National Park lighthouse.

Rocky Cape National Park

With the stop at Rocky Cape, I am certain we have crossed into places that are hours away from civilization (if only I hadn’t seen the occasional house, car, and locals who would always acknowledge and wave to our vehicle). My worries, whatever those might have been back in Sydney, seem long gone.

The first part of the day was but a taste of North West Tasmania, and speaking of taste, lunch time makes its presence known in my gurgling tummy. The best place to grab a bite in the area is Stanley; we head there for some quick grub at a local cafe, but leaving is another story. Don, having lived in Stanley for several years before, is summoned for a chat with several locals, a couple of which we stumble into on the streets.

Meet Tom and John Osborne, the father and son behind the operation of Osborne Aviation Services located right on the edge of Stanley.

Tom and John Osborne of Osborne Aviation Services

Tom, a fellow American expat, quickly takes interest in my American whereabouts and before I know it, we are being invited to lunch or dinner with these kind fellows to which we sadly have to decline given our schedule.

But, I do take it upon myself to see why these guys love Tasmania so much to continue to call it home. I ask Tom to sum up Tasmania in just 3 words, to which he replies – with a force and definition no one could argue with: “Absolutely beautiful.” See, he only needed two.

The son John, Aussie born, travels a lot for the company and finds himself spending time in bigger cities in Australia and even in America. So, I want to find out what it is about Tasmania that he – a young man with a lot of travel under his belt – really appreciates and thinks is unique.

“It’s like old Sydney and Melbourne . . . It’s still a bit wild.”

Having only been in Tassie’s North West for a matter of hours at this point, I still couldn’t have agreed more with that statement. Smaller service towns populate the rural region, and I love the vibe it produces. It reminds me of driving into the Outback, only on a smaller scale.

I, however, am more interested in the wild part, and, of course, our journey to The Edge of the World now with full tummies.

Direct from Stanley, Don explains it can take a mere 45 minutes to reach the Edge of the World, but I’m lucky; we take the scenic route. My peripheral is met with more of that cool temperate rainforest famous in the Tarkine region and even some cattle crossings to make life interesting.

Cow crossing on the way to The Edge of the World

Before I know it, we reach the point of no return… er, the point I’d been dreaming about all day: The Edge of the World.

And it’s breathtaking.

Or, more likely breath-giving. This area of the western coast of Tasmania is scientifically proven to hold the world’s cleanest air.

Breathe that in, folks.

That fresh air just might have come to you from 22,000 kilometres away — from Patagonia to the Great Southern Ocean. Now, how is that for the universe proving it is, in its element, truly grand.

In the mist: The Edge of the World

To see more of my Tasmanian photos and stories click here to view the Behind The Scenery magazine blog.

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