Tag: travel

• March 22, 2023

  Lead the Charge: Renting an Electric Car

  

  I rented an electric car so you don’t have to.

  

  I’ve always loved the idea of electric cars. I mean, what’s not to like? Lower emissions (depending on your utility), instant acceleration, less maintenance (in theory), nearly silent operation—sign me up. However, there are still some hurdles to overcome, so I figured it would be several years before I found myself behind the wheel of an EV.

  So, you can imagine my surprise when, with no warning, I was suddenly driving a Tesla Model 3 on a recent a weekend trip. But first, let me back up.

  When I bought my first car, I remember thinking it would be the last gasoline-powered car I would purchase. At the time, hydrogen fuel cells seemed like the next step in automotive evolution and Tesla was just the name of the inventor of alternating current. Things have changed a lot since then. The average electric car has more than twice the range of one made less than a decade ago and charging stations are becoming more common in urban areas and along major interstates, alleviating some of the range anxiety that plagued earlier models. But even so, I’m still driving a gas-guzzling SUV. I’ve had my eye on a few cars like the Rivian R1S, in the hope that advances in technology and manufacturing will eventually bring the cost of EVs down into the realm of affordability.

  Which brings us to my family’s recent weekend trip to Phoenix, Arizona. It was a cool night in spring when we arrived at Sky Harbor International Airport and took the tram to the rental car center. With reservation in hand, we stepped up to the counter and were told we could either wait two hours for an economy car or pay for an upgrade and leave right away. It was getting late and our toddler was grumpy from a long day of travel, so we chose the upgrade and suddenly, I was driving a fully electric vehicle for the first time.

  Here’s what I learned.

  First off, electric cars are fun to drive. I knew this from what I had read, but there’s nothing that can really prepare you for how an EV zips off the line with the lightest touch to the accelerator. There’s no waiting for the transmission to find the proper gear, just instant torque and you’re off. With regenerative braking slowing the vehicle and recovering energy when you lift off the accelerator, it’s kind of like driving a supercharged go cart. It’s very different than driving an internal combustion car, but you get used to it very quickly.

  Second, as much as I enjoyed driving it, there were a lot of features of the Tesla that were annoying. Nearly all of a Tesla’s functions are controlled through a touchscreen, making simple tasks like adjusting the climate controls or turning on the radio really, really difficult and downright dangerous if you don’t have a co-pilot on hand to dig through the menus. Our rental also came with a key card instead of a key fob, which meant we couldn’t unlock the car from a distance or open the trunk/frunk unless we were sitting in the car. We couldn’t even tell if the thing was locked when we walked away (spoiler: it wasn’t). The lack of physical controls, like climate controls, a volume knob, or a shifter that lets you feel what gear you’re in without tearing your eyes from the road was sorely missed.

  We soon discovered that chargers were plentiful. If only they were easy to use.

  Finally, there was charging. The Tesla Model 3 we were driving had 270 miles of range, which would’ve been more than enough for our entire trip; however, the rental car company required us to return the car with the same level of charge we got it in, which meant we had to figure out how to charge an electric car on the fly. Luckily, we were in Phoenix, a dense urban area full of EVs and we soon discovered that chargers were plentiful. If only they were easy to use.

  Our first charging adventure happened at the Phoenix Zoo, which offers free charging. This was when we learned that not all EVs use the same chargers. It took a few minutes of panic, another minute of studying the setup on another nearby Tesla, and several more minutes of searching the car to find the correct adapter before we got successfully plugged in. The free charging was great, but free, public chargers are also slow and despite spending two hours at the zoo, we left still needing to top off the battery before we returned the car.

  

  I arrived at the Tesla Supercharger station at a nearby mall with high hopes that were quickly dashed when I found all 14 stalls in use. Not knowing how long I would have to wait for one to open up, I found another charger operated by a different network in the same parking lot. Unfortunately, that charger wouldn’t let me charge unless I downloaded their app, made an account, gave them my address, and then waited for a membership card to arrive in the mail. By the time I realized that it wouldn’t just take my money in exchange for electrons, one of the Superchargers opened up and I hastily re-parked to grab it before someone else showed up. Getting up to full charge¹ only took 15 minutes, not counting the 40 minutes I spent just figuring out how to charge.

  The whole experience was frustrating and left me less inclined to make the switch to an electric vehicle. The cars are cool and the environmental benefits are real, but for people who can’t charge overnight at home (ie. those of us who don’t have a garage), public chargers are the only way to fill up. Based on my experience, charging is the weak link in the system. Until you can drive up to any charger, plug in, swipe your credit card, and drive off the same way you can drive any ICE car into any gas station and fuel up (or until there are affordable options that get 400+ miles on a full charge)², EVs aren’t going to be practical for a lot of people. Hard-to-use charging infrastructure will continue to be the biggest barrier to widespread EV adoption if the process isn’t simplified.

  Electric vehicles are the future, but EV manufacturers and charging networks still have a ways to go—and they would do well to look at what has worked in the past to ensure the electric future is accessible for everyone.

  Further Reading:

  • 5 Things to Know Before Renting an Electric Car (Cars.com)
  • More travel writing by Jonny Eberle

  Footnotes:

  1. EV owners will be quick to point out that it’s usually not necessary (and can even degrade the battery) to charge to 100%. Charging speeds vary over the course of a session, with the sweet spot falling between 20%-80% according to Kelly Blue Book. Beyond 80%, the speed of charging slows way down.
  2. An interesting thing I learned doing research for this article is that gasoline has been the preferred fuel for automobiles for so long because it is actually quite energy dense. According to Car and Driver, a 15-gallon tank of gasoline stores the equivalent of 505.5 kilowatt-hours (kWh) of energy. For comparison, Tesla’s largest battery pack can store ~100 kWh. In addition to improving the public charging experience, improvements in battery tech to store more energy will go a long way toward convincing the average driver that it’s worth making the switch to an EV.

  —30—

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, podcaster, and jet-setting world traveler. He lives in Tacoma, WA with his family, a dog, and three adorable typewriters. His writing has been published in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can listen to his audio drama, The Adventures of Captain Radio, and his writing podcast, Dispatches with Jonny Eberle, wherever you enjoy podcasts.

  If you liked this post, please consider subscribing to his monthly email newsletter for exclusive content, curated reading recommendations, and more. Thanks for reading!
• December 6, 2022

  Birthplace of the Revolution: Traveling to Philadelphia

  

  The city of Philadelphia is well-known as the place where delegates from the American colonies set forth a document declaring their independence from Great Britain and their plan to engage in treasonous revolt against King George III. The city is absolutely brimming with historic sites, world-class art, and amazing food, but for me, the moment that hit me the hardest wasn’t seeing George Washington’s copy of the U.S. Constitution or looking out over downtown from the Rocky Steps — it was when I stood in front of the house where I was born. There, in front of a modest stone colonial home in a quiet, tree-lined suburban street, personal and global history collided.

  Making the trip back to Philadelphia, where it all began, has been on my list for a while. Unfortunately, it often takes a tragedy to remind us of the things we meant to do. When my uncle passed away in early October, I knew I needed to be there for his memorial. Not just to see my aunt, but to reconnect with a place that had always hung on the periphery of my life story.

  When I touched down in Philadelphia for the first time in 25 years, it was with a certain weight of expectation. I was also traveling solo for the first time in years, adding to the sense of being a fish out of water or a prodigal son returning home from many years in a foreign land.

  

  Like any self-respecting tourist arriving in the City of Brotherly Love for the first time, I knew my first order of business was to seek out a proper cheesesteak. Now, there are as many opinions as to what constitutes a true Philly cheesesteak as there are cheesesteak joints scattered throughout the city. Some claim it only counts if the sandwich includes Cheese Wiz. Others argue that you have to go to one of the original shops, Pat’s or Geno’s, to get an authentic version. I’m not a traditionalist, so I did some Googling and found a sandwich that looked good to me. From the airport, I made a beeline to Philip’s Steaks in South Philly and ordered an Old Fashioned: steak, provolone, grilled onions, and hot peppers. It was heaven on a roll.

  The next day I had blocked out to see everything I could conceivably fit in around downtown Philly. I parked my rental car in an underground garage near city hall and hoofed it on foot. That day, I covered 11 miles, starting with a walk to Independence Hall, where I took the guided tour and learned a lot about the history of the founding of our nation. From there, I wandered through some of the old cobblestone streets which remain from the colonial days, passing by the Liberty Bell and the modest grave of Benjamin Franklin along the way.

  

  

  

  After absorbing all that history, I’d worked up an appetite. Philadelphia may not be as famous as its cousin metro to the north, but let me assure you that it is every bit New York’s equal when it comes to the quality and variety of its food scene. Eating is simply part of the culture here and if you’re gonna eat, the food may as well be good. For lunch, I wandered the stalls at Reading Terminal Market, a train station turned indoor bazaar, sampling cannoli and soft pretzels until I was stuffed.

  From the market, I along the wide boulevard that cuts a diagonal northwest from city center to the Schuylkill River, past fountains and monuments and bronzes to the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, where a Sylvester Stallone impersonator was posing with tourists for a few dollars a photo. From there, the city lay before me like a glittering jewel. And though my feet ached, I found myself feeling homesick for a life I never lived.

  

  I have no memories of living in Philadelphia. And yet, I choked up when I walked by our old house in Drexel Hill. In Emily St. John Mandel’s novel The Glass Hotel, one of the characters imagines a “counter-life” where he made different choices and watches his life go in a very different direction. Walking through the neighborhood, I could imagine another me going to school here, learning to drive on these winding roads, getting takeout from Pizza Odyssey. I don’t regret the choices that led our family to the West and brought me all the way across the country from the place of my birth — my life is incredible — but I could not help but wonder who this other Jonny would have become if he had charted a different course.

  I had dinner with my Aunt Wendy, seeing her for the first time since my wedding. After dinner, she gave me a paper bag bursting with family photos and documents, a treasure trove of stories from my past, and entrusted them to me to care for. For the rest of the night in my hotel room, I laid out old photographs on the bed and tried to decipher who was in each one, how they were related to me, and what I could learn about them.

  

  

  The next day was the memorial, where friends and family swapped stories of my Uncle Jim; about his time in the Marines, about his love of rock music, practical jokes, and Ferraris. We laid him to rest in the cemetery where generations of Eberles are buried, and I went to eat pancakes with cousins I never knew I had.

  That afternoon, with dappled sunlight pouring through autumn leaves and less than an hour before I had to be at the airport, I stopped at a small park next to a creek near our old house. There, preserved in a small clearing, is a cabin. It is believed to be the oldest remaining log cabin of its kind in North America. No one knows who built it, only that they were likely Swedish settlers who arrived before the English in the 1630s. Their story is lost to history, but their rough, two-room home stands as a testament that they were here. They lived. They were a part of this place. We all have our time, and when we go, we don’t leave much behind except for boxes of photos, old passports, and maybe one or two good stories as proof that we, too, were here.

  This was more than a quick trip Back East. It was a chance to catch some of those memories before they are lost. To reconnect to roots that go back three hundred years in this soil. To know a little more about my story.

  So, look out, Philly, because I’ll be back for more.

  

  Philadelphia Travel Tips

  Where: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  Getting There: Easily accessible by plane, train, or automobile. The airport is located just a few miles south of the city. I rented a car because I needed to get out to the ‘burbs, but there’s also 280 miles of commuter rail service throughout the Greater Philadelphia area if you’re not into heavy traffic and parking headaches.

  What to See: Center City is walkable, but I’d recommend spreading your sightseeing out over a couple of days to avoid the blisters I incurred attempting to do it all in a single day. If you’re into history, be sure to check out Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell (note that reservations are required for the Independence Hall tour and you should arrive early to get through security). After that, walk over to Elphreth’s Alley, one of the oldest and best preserved streets in the city, passing the grave of Benjamin and Deborah Franklin on your way. Further south, you’ll find the historic William Still House, where the abolitionist and Underground Railroad conductor William Still helped hundreds of people escape from slavery.

  What to Eat: You can’t go wrong at the historic Terminal Reading Market, a public market with stands selling everything from roast pork to sushi. I highly recommend a cannoli from Termini Bros. and an Amish-style soft pretzel from Miller’s Twist. In addition to its famous cheesesteak, Philadelphia is also teeming with incredible Italian food.

  What to Drink: The cocktails at Prunella are outstanding. There’s a great view of the restaurant’s blazing pizza oven from the marble-top bar.

  —30—

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, podcaster, and jet-setting world traveler. He lives in Tacoma, WA with his family, a dog, and three adorable typewriters. His writing has been published in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can listen to his audio drama, The Adventures of Captain Radio, and his writing podcast, Dispatches with Jonny Eberle, wherever you enjoy podcasts.

  If you liked this post, please consider subscribing to his monthly email newsletter for exclusive content, curated reading recommendations, and more. Thanks for reading!

  Further Reading:

  • Cheesesteak: The Oral History (Philadelpha Magazine)
  • More travel writing by Jonny Eberle
• November 28, 2022

  To End of the Earth: Traveling to Punta Arenas, Chile

  

  

  This is part four of my four-part travel series on Argentina and Chile. Today, we head to the city on the edge of the known world: Punta Arenas, Chile.

  Standing on the hill overlooking the town of Punta Arenas, it’s easy to imagine Ferdinand Magellan sailing into the harbor, searching for a route through the archipelago of rocky islands and storm-tossed seas to the Pacific Ocean. Five hundred years ago, Magellan’s fleet entered a remote region at the bottom of the world which they dubbed “Tierra del Fuego,” or Land of Fire, so named for the many bonfires they spotted on the islands they passed. What was once home to the native Yaghan, Ona, and Alacalout peoples was later transformed into a penal colony, then a base of operations for Patagonia’s lucrative livestock industry, then a hub for oil drilling and the final port of call of ships departing to the Antarctic continent. And after two weeks and thousands of miles, this was where we found ourselves at the end of our South American excursion.

  Punta Arenas is a small city at the southern tip of Chile. One of the southernmost cities on the planet, it is built on a steep hillside sloping down to the harbor and is beset with cold and wind, even on a sunny spring day. Along the esplanade, you can watch massive cargo ships steaming through the Straits of Magellan.

  By the time we made it to Punta Arenas, we were weary from our travels and had made very few plans about what we wanted to see and do in town. We spent our first afternoon there holed up in a quaint bed and breakfast, reading and trying to chase the chill from our bones. Then, it was time to start exploring.

  

  Anywhere you go in Punta Arenas, you are constantly reminded of this place’s precarious position on the edge of civilization. In the town square, a statue of Magellan stands triumphant. High on the hillside, posted signs point the way to distant metropolises — Sacramento – 11,298 km, Budapest – 14,042 km, Kazakhstan – 20,820 km — places so far away that they might as well be on another planet, while a marker on the sidewalk indicates that the icebound coast of Antarctica is a mere 800 miles away, closer than Chile’s own capital. From this vantage point, you can almost imagine ice sheets on the horizon.

  History is on display throughout Punta Arenas, from a full-sized wooden replica of Magellan’s galleon, the Nao Victoria (which we only caught a glimpse of from the highway), to the opulent wool baron’s mansion turned museum which chronicles Punta Arena’s rise to prominence in the early 20th century, during which time settlers stripped the land and destroyed nearly all of the indigenous peoples.

  Understanding the history of the places you visit makes each journey more than just another opportunity to snap a selfie; it connects you with the land you’re standing on and the deep roots of its people. But for all the fascinating and tragic human story that has played out in Punta Arenas over the centuries, if you’re going to come all the way to the farthest tip of South America, you’re probably interested in the region’s wild inhabitants. If so, the one thing you absolutely must do while you’re here is visit a penguin colony.

  We left our hotel an hour before dawn, sprinting downhill under a starry sky because the taxi we had ordered never arrived and our tour was leaving soon. We showed up out of breath, but with plenty of time to climb aboard the bus and settle in. An overhead screen at the front of the bus played an old Pavarotti concert as the sky turned fiery red over the low hills of Tierra del Fuego.

  

  Disembarking from the bus, we climbed aboard a small boat and charged over several miles of choppy water to Isla Magdalena. The bare island less than a mile across is home to an abandoned lighthouse and upward of 60,000 breeding pairs of Magellanic penguins. Access to the island is carefully controlled and tourists are only allowed on a short, designated path to avoid damaging the penguin’s habitat. Of course, that didn’t stop the penguins from walking wherever they pleased.

  Our hour on the island seemed to be gone in an instant, with me happily photographing the birds as they went about their business waddling to and from their burrows and into the crashing sea to fish. I probably snapped more photos of the nature reserve than any other stop on our trip. On the trip back to shore in the belly of our tour boat, with rough seas preventing us from visiting a second island, I felt a little seasick but was buoyed by the rush of seeing my favorite animal up-close in the wild.

  

  

  For many people, Punta Arenas is just a stop along the way to some greater adventure. And while this place has always been a gateway, it is also much more. If you take the time you can see it for what it truly is — a place where humans have not only scratched out a living, but thrived in the most inhospitable climate for thousands of years; a melting pot of prospectors, ranchers, convicts, and explorers from all over the world; a jumping off point to see some of the most remote wilderness on earth; all combined to make it one of the most unique cities in all of South America. It may not have the cosmopolitan energy of Buenos Aires or the staggering natural beauty of Puerto Natales, but it is absolutely worth the trip.

  

  Punta Arenas Travel Tips

  Where: Punta Arenas, Chile

  Getting There: Punta Arenas is accessible via a 3.5-hour flight from Santiago, plus a stopover on most flights in the town of Puerto Montt. From the airport, buses take you to the city center in about 20 minutes. However, if you’ve got the time, you might consider getting there by ferry from Puerto Montt and sailing the Patagonian fjords.

  Where to Stay: We made the mistake of staying far up the hill and away from the city’s compact downtown. While our spot was quiet, it was too far from the heart of Punta Arenas. I’d recommend one of the closer-in hotels.

  What to See: Penguins, of course. Several companies run tours, including half-day visits to Los Pingüinos Natural Monument or full-day excursions to the main island of Tierra del Fuego to see larger king penguin colonies. Be sure to check the company’s credentials to make sure you’re not doing unnecessary harm to the ecosystem you’re visiting.

  What to Eat: If you’ve just arrived in Punta Arenas from Puerto Natales or another remote outpost, you’ll be amazed at the variety of cuisine available in the city. Patagonian food is warm, hearty, and filling, with plenty of meat, fish, and potatoes. We had a fantastic meal at La Marmita, a family-owned restaurant serving regional dishes.

  —30—

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, podcaster, photographer, and world traveler. He lives in Tacoma, WA with his family, a dog, and three adorable typewriters. His fiction has appeared in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can listen to his writing podcast, Dispatches with Jonny Eberle, and his audio drama, The Adventures of Captain Radio, wherever you find podcasts, and you can get monthly updates and reading recommendations by signing up for his email newsletter. Thanks for reading!

  South American travel series:

  • Buenos Aires
  • Mendoza
  • Puerto Natales

  More travel writing by Jonny Eberle
• October 2, 2022

  Ruta del Fin del Mundo: Traveling to Chilean Patagonia

  

  

  Welcome to part three of my four-part series about our 2019 adventure through South America. In this week’s blog: Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine National Park, Chile.

  Twelve hours after departing hot, dry Mendoza, we stepped off the bus into the first flakes of falling snow. It was nearly midnight in the small town of Puerto Natales, strung along the rocky shores of Seno Ultima Esperanza and 150 miles from the next nearest population center. It was bitterly cold that night and as we settled into our hotel, it was obvious that I had underestimated the weather and would need to buy more layers.

  Morning dawned grey over the sound. After a quick breakfast of toast and cheese, we hopped on a van for a tour of Torres del Paine National Park. In moments, we left behind the corrugated tin roofs and metal-clad buildings of town and into some of the most beautiful and rugged countryside that I have ever seen.

  

  Much like the Puget Sound (where we live), this region of Chile was carved and shaped by ice. Retreating glaciers following the last major ice age left the west coast of Patagonia a rugged landscape of narrow fjords, isolated islands, and sharp mountain peaks. Nowhere is this more evident than in Torres del Paine.

  Our tour of the national park started at the Cave of the Milodon, a touristy spot featuring a large cave where early human settlers would have taken shelter from the harsh elements and where the bones and fur of an extinct species of giant ground sloth were discovered in the 1890s.

  After stretching our legs and chatting with some of our fellow tourists (including our good friend Llama Hat Guy, who made it his mission to make sure that Stephanie and I had enough photos with both of us in them), we got back into the van for the main event.

  

  Torres del Paine is an expansive national park covering 700 square miles. Within that are windswept grasslands, shockingly blue glacier-fed lakes, milky white rivers loaded with sediment, stands of lenga trees, icebergs, and a range of striking mountains known as the Horns, which seems tall enough to scrape against the sky.

  Despite the cold seeping into my bones, we had an awe-inspiring tour through the park, hiking across otherworldly landscapes of rock and ice, stopping to admire the ever-shifting view of the mountains, and spotting the local wildlife, including herds of guanacos, a wild cousin of the domesticated llama, and the elusive ñandu, a large flightless bird resembling a mini-ostrich.

  

  

  

  

  After returning to Puerto Natales that evening, exhausted but in awe of the natural beauty of this place, we stopped by a local outfitter for some extra clothes and thicker socks so that I’d be better prepared for our next outing.

  The next day, our expedition took us to the waters of Ultima Esperanza. We boarded a catamaran for an all-day cruise through stunning fjords. Along the way, we witnessed towering waterfalls cascading down sheer cliffs, seals and sea birds of every kind, and massive glaciers crumbling into the sea. We stopped in at a historic sheep ranch for a traditional Patagonian asado lunch of lamb and potatoes before boarding the ship again, where we enjoyed a whiskey with fresh glacier ice.

  

  It was all over so quickly, as is often the case when trying to see a lot in the short amount of vacation time many of us in the U.S. get from our employers. I’m sure we could’ve spent many more days exploring the wild southern expanse of South America.

  Patagonia was everything I hoped it would be and more — a place of untouched natural grandeur at the end of the world, a cold, unforgiving, but alluring land where a single human feels insignificant against the immensity of what lies before you. No wonder European explorers of the 19th century were drawn here, this most inaccessible of frontiers.

  

  And yet, it’s easy to forget how much humans, and especially European immigrants, have changed Patagonia, logging its ancient forests, driving out and killing indigenous peoples by the thousands, and transforming vast swaths of the wilderness into grazing land for industrial sheep farming — an ecological disaster which has pushed many native species to the brink of extinction. Even now, a warming climate is robbing Patagonia of its ice, with glaciers retreating miles per year in some cases and erasing a critical part of this delicate ecosystem.

  In my hurry to see this place before it’s gone, have I hastened its disappearance?

  I can’t help but feel a little guilty for even coming here. In my hurry to see this place before it’s gone, have I hastened its disappearance? That’s the trade-off we make whenever we travel, but especially when visiting the most remote and vulnerable spots on the planet. Is it worth it? I’m not sure I can fully answer that. I’m glad we went for our once-in-a-lifetime trip and going has made me more aware of what we stand to lose if we do nothing to address climate change. And if travel can galvanize me to action and advocacy, then yes, I think it will be worth it.

  

  Chilean Patagonia Travel Tips

  Where: Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine, Chile

  Getting There: From Santiago, flights to Punta Arenas take about 3.5 hours, plus time to make a stop to let folks get off in Puerto Montt. Once you arrive, Bus Sur provides comfortable transportation with multiple buses a day from the airport for the 3-hour drive. When we went, you could book your ticket in advance, but payment had to be made in person upon boarding the bus. We were also able to get onto an earlier bus when our flight arrived early.

  Where to Stay: We stayed in the heart of Puerto Natales at the Hotel Vendeval. The rooms were small, but clean and modern with a fantastic view of the sea, and we were located within a five-minute walk of everything we needed. The staff was excellent and they even packed us a sack lunch for our day trip to Torres del Paine.

  How to Get Around: Chilean Patagonia is huge with very few populated areas. Many of the roads are dirt or gravel and the weather can change without warning. We found it best to let a professional handle the driving (and sailing) while we enjoyed the incredible views.

  What to Pack: Smartwool socks, telephoto lens

  What to Drink: Whiskey on the rocks (with glacier ice) or a blended pisco sour at La Guanaca (a spot that may be a contender for the best wood-fired pizza in South America).

  What to Eat: Puerto Natales has an up-and-coming foodie scene. There aren’t a lot of restaurants (and some keep limited hours outside of the busy season), but all of it is delicious. Do yourself a favor and splurge on local king crab at Santolla, a restaurant located inside a converted storage container.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, filmmaker, photographer, and explorer based out of Tacoma, WA. You can find his words in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. While you’re here, read more of his travel writing, sign up for his monthly newsletter, and follow him on Twitter.

  In the final installment of my four-part travel series on South America, we reach the southern tip of the Americas. Next up: Punta Arenas.

  South American travel series:

  • Buenos Aires
  • Mendoza
  • Punta Arenas

  More travel writing by Jonny Eberle
• September 18, 2022

  More Than Malbec: Traveling to Mendoza, Argentina

  

  

  Welcome to part two of my four-part series about our 2019 adventure through South America. In this week’s blog: Mendoza, Argentina.

  When we started planning our trip to South America, one of the first places we wanted to go was Mendoza. This high-altitude valley nestled in the foothills of the Andes is world renowned for its incredible wines, and we knew he had to try some from the source.

  We arrived on a warm day in spring, which left us scrambling to pack away our coats and dig out our sunglasses from our carry-ons. The mountains were partially obscured by a haze of dust and as our taxi drove us south from the airport, through the city of Mendoza, and into the surrounding towns, it was hard not to feel like we can somehow landed in Central California.

  We were also anxious to relax a little and slow down after a whirlwind week in Buenos Aires. Arriving in late afternoon in the little town of Chacras de Coria, we enjoyed a glass of Malbec, dinner at the hotel restaurant, and a dip in the pool before turning in for the night. The next day was going to be a long one.
  

  

  Our itinerary only gave us one full day in Mendoza, which was definitely not enough. But the next morning after breakfast, we hopped on a pair of rented bikes and set out to explore. The town quickly gave way to rows of grape vines just starting to put out their leaves and the sun beat down on us.

  We had a rough idea of where we were going. We figured that if we could maintain a leisurely but steady pace, we could visit three or four wineries and be back at our hotel for dinner. Naturally, it didn’t go according to plan.

  Our first stop was at Alta Vista, a vineyard located just twenty minutes’ ride from our hotel in the Luján de Cuyo district, one of the most prolific wine-growing regions in the entire country. At Alta Vista, we caught our breath, had our first tour and wine tasting, and chatted with a friendly group of American college students who were spending a semester in Argentina. It was everything we hoped it would be.

  And then, things went off track.
  

  

  Soon after departing from Alta Vista, we got lost. Our paper map wasn’t all that accurate, it turned out, and we weren’t sure if the winery where we planned to have lunch was farther down the road or if we’d already missed it.

  As much as we’d like to pretend on Instagram that international travel is always glamorous and carefree, the truth is that something always goes wrong.

  Hungry, tired, and more than a little flustered, we arrived at our destination late, only to discover that there had been a miscommunication with the front desk clerk at our hotel—we didn’t have a reservation and the restaurant was completely booked.

  As much as we’d like to pretend on Instagram that international travel is always glamorous and carefree, the truth is that something always goes wrong. There are language barriers, missed turns, bike rides that you think will take you 25 minutes but end up taking over an hour, sore muscles, grumbling stomachs, and frayed nerves. The reality is, sometimes things don’t go your way and there’s no way to fix it. All you can do is carry on to the next thing and try not to let it ruin your day.

  So that’s what we did.

  We got back on our bikes and struck out for the next bodega on our list. A few miles later, we parked our bikes outside Viamonte. We were exhausted, we were starving, and we were sweaty. But the host kindly showed us to a table on the patio and handed us menus.

  In my memory, that lunch was one of the finest meals we enjoyed in South America: grilled provolone cheese topped with fresh greens and tomato, followed by a seared ribeye. Once we had our strength back, we took a guided, personal tour of the small winery and finished up with a tasting.
  

  

  It was late when we pedaled back into Chacras de Coria and the sun was setting over the mountains, finally giving us a break from the heat. We were covered in dust and somewhat dreading the next day when we would be traveling for twelve hours.
  
  We could’ve used a relaxing day by the pool, or a few more days to explore the wineries to our north (one of whom, it was rumored, kept a llama on staff). But we’d have to be content with just a sip of what Mendoza had to offer before moving on.

  Mendoza Travel Tips

  Where: Mendoza, Argentina

  Getting There: Mendoza is an easy two-hour flight from Buenos Aires or one hour from Santiago, Chile, with a stunning flight over the towering Andes Mountains.

  Where to Stay: We chose to skip the city and instead stay close to where the wine is made. We ended up in the small town of Chacras de Coria. Our hotel, Lares de Chacras, had its own wine cellar and onsite restaurant. They arranged our airport transportation and even helped us rent bikes to tour the area.

  How to Get Around: The wine-growing regions around Mendoza are expansive, so you’ll want some wheels. There are many companies that operate wine tours or offer cars for hire, but we chose to explore the nearby wineries by bicycle. The valley is relatively flat, but there are few bike lanes and even fewer street signs, so plan your route in advance or splurge for international cellular data for turn-by-turn directions.

  What to Drink: Mendoza is world famous for Malbec, my personal favorite wine. Every winery makes it, but in recent years, they’ve expanded their repertoire to include Tempranillo, dry rosés, and Torrontés, a phenomenal white wine that’s only made in Argentina.

  What to Eat: If you can snag a reservation, have lunch and a glass of wine at one of the wineries while you look over the vineyards. This is still Argentina, so you can’t go wrong with a cut of beef. To satisfy your sweet tooth, nothing beats a dulce de leche crepe.
  

  

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, filmmaker, photographer, and explorer based out of Tacoma, WA. You can find his words in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. While you’re here, read more of his travel writing, sign up for his monthly newsletter, and follow him on Twitter.

  In part three of my four-part series on South America, we cross the border into a whole new world. Next up: Chilean Patagonia

  South American travel series:

  • Buenos Aires

  • Puerto Natales

  • Punta Arenas

  More travel writing by Jonny Eberle
• September 5, 2022

  La Vida Porteño: Traveling to Buenos Aires

  

  

  Today, I’m kicking off a series of blogs about my travels in South America way back in 2019. One of things I miss the most about the before times is the ease of global travel. If you’re like me and wish you could hop a jet to an interesting city without a care in the world, please fasten your seatbelt, make sure your seat is in the full, upright position, and read on…

  Traveling to South America is like meeting a long-lost cousin. So much is familiar and yet life circumstances have molded you into wildly different people. In the fall of 2019, long before anyone had ever heard of COVID-19, my globetrotting partner and I embarked on our biggest adventure yet — a two week sojourn across the equator to Argentina and Chile.

  You have to really want to go to South America to consider making the trek. The trip from Seattle is long and arduous, requiring us to change planes in Los Angeles and again in Santiago, spending nearly 24 hours in transit and covering a total distance of over 7,000 miles. Needless to say, a weekend jaunt is out of the question. When we decided to go, we hoarded our vacation days, packed our suitcases to bursting, and filled our itinerary to make sure we didn’t waste a moment of the experience.

  

  Buenos Aires is massive, vibrant, and a little overwhelming. Picture New York mixed with Paris: stately old buildings and wide avenues in some areas, narrow streets, nightclubs, and street vendors in another. We gave ourselves three and a half days to explore BA and while we hit a lot of the highlights, we could’ve easily spent a week or more in this amazing city.

  Sprawling along the wide mouth of the Rio de la Plata as it empties into the South Atlantic, Buenos Aires was founded five hundred years ago by Spanish conquistadors who named the settlement after the fair winds that blew in off the ocean. While the official language is still Spanish, this cosmopolitan city is a melting pot, home to people with roots all over the world, including the largest Jewish community in Latin America. As a result, Buenos Aires is beautifully diverse and enjoys world-class cuisine, art, architecture, and music.

  

  Buenos Aires is built for exploration. Around every corner and down every side street you’re likely to find a charming cafe, a cozy bookstore, a stunning mural, or a piece of Argentine history waiting to be found. The city’s famous Recoleta Cemetery is a maze of mausoleums filled with artists, revolutionaries, and historic figures — including the famous Eva Perón — stashed in the middle of a district of glitzy shopping malls and expensive apartment buildings. Street performers dance the tango and rooftop lookouts offer stunning views of the metropolis.

  At the end of each day, we were exhausted from walking and from putting our incredibly broken Spanish to use navigating BA’s labyrinthine streets, even as the city woke up around us, ready to party until the sun came up.

  

  We enjoyed wandering through the city’s famous bookstores, experiencing the incredible acoustics of Teatro Colón, and of course, eating and drinking our way from one incredible meal to another. Without a doubt, this is a city with an appetite for amazing food. To say we ate well is a understatement. We were blown away by the quality and variety of everything we tried, whether it was a crispy fried empanada, a glass or three of the country’s famous Malbec red wine, a succulent cut of steak fresh off the parilla, or the most perfect grilled artichoke that I have ever tasted, we ended each day in our hotel completely stuffed.

  

  At the heart of Buenos Aires is its people. Porteños, or people of the port, are a warm and hospitable group, able to blend old and new. It is a hard-scrabble place built by immigrants that is constantly evolving into something new. That ability to embrace change and to never stand still for too long, seems to be part of the core identity of Buenos Aires.

  As our plane turned east and the city gave way to the endless grasslands and ranches of the Pampas, our suitcases packed with souvenirs and alfajores (Argentina’s signature dulce de leche filled cookie), I knew I would be back someday. Until then, there was still so much to see and do elsewhere on the continent.

  Buenos Aires Travel Tips

  Where: Buenos Aires, Argentina
  

  Where to Stay: The twin neighborhoods of Palermo Soho and Palermo Hollywood are jam-packed with small, boutique hotels and a wealth of restaurants, bars, and coffee shops and are just a couple of subway stops from the city center. We stayed at the Hotel Duque. It was simple, but had all the essentials, plus they coordinated our airport pickup, which was a lifesaver.
  

  Know the Language: While many people speak a little English, it is essential that you learn some basic Spanish. The Argentine dialect is unique, so bring a phrasebook that’s specific to the region (for instance, the double L makes a “sh” sound instead of a “y” sound down here).
  

  How to Get Around: You can experience most of BA on foot, but the city is massive, so take the Subte (subway) to an area you want to explore and then hoof it from there. The Subte doesn’t run late, so have a backup transportation plan if you find yourself far from your home base after 10 or 11 pm. We found that limiting ourselves to seeing one or two adjacent neighborhoods per day was doable.
  

  Where to Go Dancing: Buenos Aires is the birthplace of tango, so find somewhere to go dancing at least once. We enjoyed going to La Viruta because it was casual, an easy walk from our hotel, and offered lessons before the open dance session, but you’ll find milongas scattered throughout the city.
  

  What to Eat: Everything. Definitely fill up on steak at Don Julio (and arrive early to get a table), but know that Argentine chefs do heavenly things with vegetables, too. Make time to hit up Chori to try BA’s quintessential sandwich, the choripan.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, filmmaker, photographer, and explorer based out of Tacoma, WA. You can find his words in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. While you’re here, read more of his travel writing, sign up for his monthly newsletter, and follow him on Twitter.

  Stay tuned for part two of my four-part series on South America. Next up: Mendoza

  South America travel series:

  • Mendoza
  • Puerto Natales
  • Punta Arenas

  More travel writing by Jonny Eberle
• May 10, 2021

  The Art of Traveling During a Pandemic

  

  If you’ve been reading my blog for more than a year, you know I love to travel. When COVID-19 shut down all non-essential travel in 2020, we were forced to cancel our planned Hawaiian vacation and postpone any and all of our travel plans for the foreseeable future. We’ve done our best to be safe and follow health authority guidelines and we’ve been lucky not to get sick thus far. Earlier this year, we decided we were ready to go on our long-delayed trip to Maui, but we knew we couldn’t travel the same way we did in the before times. We were itching to get out of the house, but at the same time, we wanted to do what we could to minimize the risk to ourselves and the people around us. It was a tricky balancing act. Here’s how we did it:

  Understand the Risks and Take Appropriate Precautions

  One reason why I felt more comfortable traveling now than I would’ve a year ago is because of how far our understanding of the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 has evolved. We now know that the virus spreads primarily through airborne particles. We know that masks are an effective way to prevent the spread of those particles and protect those around you. We also know that most super-spreader events occur indoors in poorly ventilated conditions. With this information in mind, we were able to decide on some parameters for our trip to keep ourselves and others safe.

  Choose the Right Location and Method of Transportation

  

  We chose to pursue our cancelled visit to the island of Maui in no small part because we were unable to get refunds for most of our trip expenses, just vouchers for later use. Still, there were a few factors that made it easy to get there while prioritizing safety.

  The first thing that makes Hawaii a great choice right now is that its case numbers are low compared to most states. Hawaii has been requiring out-of-state arrivals test negative for COVID-19 to bypass a mandatory quarantine, (and has since added an extra rapid test upon landing), so we felt reasonably assured that most of the people on our flight would not be carrying the virus.

  The second mark in Hawaii’s favor is evidence showing that ventilation and air filtration on commercial airplanes is actually quite good, offering an extra layer of security should someone on our flight contract COVID in the narrow window between receiving their negative test result and boarding the aircraft.

  Third, Hawaii’s tropical climate and wide array of outdoor activities and dining options allowed us to spend very little time indoors with other people. We purposefully chose takeout and outdoor dining options whenever we could, stayed in a small bed and breakfast instead of a busy resort (which was also way cheaper), rented a car to explore on our own rather than joining a group tour, found quiet beaches away from crowds, and wore our masks whenever we couldn’t physically distance (this was only ever really a problem in the airport, where we chose to double-mask).

  Prioritize Getting Outside

  

  Maui was made for adventure. Whether you’re driving the winding road to Hana, standing above the crater of Haleakala, or laying on the beach with a good book, it’s easy to find things to do outside on the island and easy to avoid crowded, indoor spaces. Sunny skies and warm weather make it an easy place to physically distance and enjoy a break from reality. Even if you’re not planning a trip to Hawaii, this is the kind of vacation I’d recommend during the pandemic. Instead of worrying about all the things you can’t do, now is an opportunity to embrace all the activities you can do safely right now. I’ve been so grateful for the ability to get out for my daily walks to keep my sanity this past year and our visit to Maui offered new and exciting ways to experience the beauty of nature.

  Guidelines for Traveling Mindfully

  

  Being able to travel is a privilege, now more than ever. We are still in the midst of a global pandemic which has upended the lives of nearly everyone, so expect that things will be different — and you will also have to act differently. If you’re in the position to be able to travel right now, keep these guiding principles in mind:

  You Are Responsible for the Health of Everyone Around You

  When traveling to an isolated area, remember that you can have an outsized impact on the community you’re entering. Places like Hawaii have limited medical facilities that can be easily overwhelmed. They may not have the resources to care for you if you become ill or if you infect others. We all have a responsibility to care for one another, so don’t go if you’re experiencing symptoms of COVID or have been exposed to someone who has tested positive. You may also want to reconsider your plans if there’s a sudden surge in positive cases in your community or the community you’re visiting. A stranger’s health may depend on your choices and that’s something you have to take seriously. If you’re not going to follow mask guidelines and basic hygiene practices, don’t travel right now.

  Be Patient and Generous

  The tourism, food service, and hospitality industries have all taken a beating this year and many low-wage workers have struggled to provide for their families and keep themselves safe. Travel is only just starting up again, so it’s important to be patient and understanding. Prices are high, supply chain disruptions have caused shortages, hours for many businesses are in flux, and staffing is limited even as demand is surging. If you aren’t going to be patient and respectful in your interactions with staff, supportive of local businesses, flexible when circumstances change, and as generous with your tips as you can be, don’t travel right now.

  Put In the Extra Effort

  Maui was breathtaking and I’m glad we went. It wasn’t exactly what I had expected and COVID-19 forced us to change plans several times, but we were able to unplug and treat ourselves to some much-needed relaxation while also helping the local economy. Only you can decide if traveling right now is worth the risk for you and there are many more factors to keep in mind than I’ve gone into here. Also, I’m not a medical professional, so take my advice with a grain of salt. But, if you’ve got the itch to see more of the world than the inside of your home and you’re willing to put in a little extra effort to do so mindfully and safely, I think you should definitely consider booking your trip.

  Have tips for traveling in the age of COVID-19? I’d love to hear about your experience in the comments!

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle lives in Tacoma, WA with his wife, three typewriters, and a puppy. His fiction has been featured in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine and All Worlds Wayfarer. Read more of his short fiction, follow him on Twitter, and subscribe to his monthly email newsletter.
• September 14, 2020

  Best Spots for Urban Kayaking in Tacoma

  

  When you picture the ideal spot for kayaking, what comes to mind? An isolated river or lake in the woods? Or on an urban waterway surrounded by bridges and skyscrapers? When we got our kayaks last winter, I couldn’t wait to try them out somewhere totally new — my own backyard.

  Tacoma is a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by the waters of Puget Sound. Much of that water is easily accessible from one of the city’s waterfront parks. Many times, I’ve walked along the shore and wondered what the city must look like from out there. This summer, I got to find out. Kayaking is an excellent way to get outside for fresh air and exercise as you practice social distancing. It’s also a sure-fire way to beat cabin fever and reminded me of why it’s so important that we preserve ecosystems like the Salish Sea.

  Now, without further ado, here are three of my favorite spots to kayak around Tacoma:

  Ruston Way

  Two-mile scenic waterfront dotted with parks and beaches in Tacoma’s North End

  Ruston Way was the first place we tried kayaking and it’s still our favorite spot. Ruston Way’s many parks and gently sloping beaches provide plenty of opportunities to launch. Parking is tight, meaning you’ll probably wind up carrying your kayaks across a busy road or down the sidewalk a ways, but generally, you don’t have to park too far from the water. Both Dickman Mill Park and Cummings Park offer great spots to put in. The water here is generally calm with some wakes from passing boats, but we had plenty of room to paddle just off shore. Within a few minutes, it felt like we were miles away from the bustle of the city.

  Ruston Way’s industrial history means there’s a lot to explore. The remains of 38 piers are scattered along the shoreline. Once the home of Tacoma’s lumber mills, warehouses and copper smelters, these pilings and concrete ruins are now home to seagulls, loons and cormorants while seals play in the surf.

  Thea Foss Waterway

  1.5-mile inlet between downtown and the Port of Tacoma

  Between the sight of the Murray-Morgan Bridge towering 60 feet above you, sailboats and yachts coming in and out of the marina, and the downtown Tacoma skyline, the Thea Foss Waterway is full of spectacular sights. We put in at Thea’s Park, located on Dock Street. There’s very limited parking, but there is a public dock here, making this the easiest place on the list to launch from (we didn’t even get our feet wet!). Because of the boat traffic, Thea Foss is a less leisurely place to paddle, but if you’re aware of your surroundings and steer clear of the larger vessels passing through the marina, there’s a lot to see and explore.

  Titlow Beach

  Scenic views of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in Tacoma’s West End

  Titlow Beach was by far our most challenging kayak trip, but it was well worth the effort. While there’s plenty of parking at the park, you’ll need to carry your kayaks and gear across the train tracks and down a flight of stairs to reach the beach, which can be slippery at low tide. Unlike the more serene waters of Commencement Bay, the Tacoma Narrows are known for strong currents and can be dangerous if you stray too far from shore. The day we came was especially windy, which meant we had to contend with some pretty significant swells. Sticking close to the beach, we paddled north until we reached a point where we could see the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in the distance. We also enjoyed beautiful views of Gig Harbor and Fox Island. On a clear day, I suspect you could also spot the Olympic Mountains.

  We got soaked paddling at Titlow Beach. It was cold and windy, but it was also a stunning reminder of how lucky we are to live in the Pacific Northwest, where we’re all just minutes away from nature.

  Tips for Urban Kayakers

  

  • You don’t have to buy a kayak right away — there are plenty of places to rent kayaks to get a feel for the sport before you invest in your own gear.
  • Get an early start, especially on weekends and holidays, to find a good place to load and unload your gear and be prepared to fall back on Plan B if your first choice location is too busy.
  • Always wear a personal flotation device and be sure it fits properly.
  • Check the weather conditions and tide tables before you go. You don’t want to come back after a long afternoon of kayaking to discover that the beach where you put in is now underwater or find yourself battling the elements when a small craft advisory is in effect. Knowing the current weather conditions can also help you plan your route, so you can take advantage of a tailwind on the return trip.
  • Busy waterways can be hazardous and larger vessels may not be able to see you or change course to avoid a collision. Stay away from ferry routes and shipping lanes and always keep an eye out for approaching vessels.
  • Stay at least 300 yards from orcas and 100 yards from seal pups, if you encounter them on your excursions.

  Are there other kayaking spots around the Tacoma area that I missed? Let me know what areas I should check out in the comments. Thanks for reading!

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, filmmaker and paddling hobbyist in Tacoma, WA. His writing has been featured in Creative Colloquy and Grit City Magazine. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to the mailing list today.
• June 27, 2019

  King of the Open Road

  

  Last week, I handed over the keys to my 2005 Honda Pilot to my younger sister. It was an emotional moment, because my baby sister is now old enough to drive. It was also emotional for me because I was saying farewell to an old friend. Call me sentimental, but I have a tendency to get attached to inanimate objects, and it was hard to say goodbye to my trusty companion.

  The Lone Ranger had Silver. Thor had his hammer. I had my Honda Pilot EX-L.

  My Pilot was the first car I ever bought on my own. It was the car I drove to college, the car that I used to help numerous friends move, the car that defied gravity on a steep and ill-advised passing maneuver on a one-lane desert road. It was the car I took down to Oak Creek in the summer and the car I packed with friends for a drive to the Grand Canyon at 4 a.m. to watch the sunrise.

  It was the ultimate road trip machine, including recent trips to Canada and the Oregon Coast. I loved that you could fill the back with camping gear and escape into the wilderness at a moment’s notice. It was perfect for our week-long, 1,800+ mile trip to Yellowstone with American Gods playing on CD.

  It had the world’s loudest and least effective windshield wipers (which wasn’t an issue until we moved to Washington) and it was old enough to come with a cassette tape deck, which was only used once to play the Complete James Bond Theme Songs.

  My Pilot was reliable. It never got stuck, never broke down, and never failed to start whether it was -13 degrees or 113 degrees (except for that one time at a fancy hotel when the battery and alternator died simultaneously and the valet had to jump it to get it to the parking lot…that was embarrassing).

  From the faded pirate bobble head on the dashboard to the NAU decal in the back window to the mysterious scratch on the back bumper that I still can’t explain, it was and is a great little SUV.

  

  It’s strange how a metal box on wheels can exert such a pull on the human heart, but it’s undeniable. My Pilot is a testament to the power of good design and engineering to build a thing that not only serves its intended purpose — to get people from point A to point B — but to feel almost like a living thing. Everything about it, from the rev of the engine to the feel of the steering wheel imbued it with personality.

  Perhaps that’s why cars have held a special place in the American psyche for over a hundred years. We care for them, we collect them, we fill them with memories. We spend so much time with them that it’s hard not to feel a connection with our favorite machines.

  And while it’s sad to think I won’t be climbing behind the wheel every day, I’m glad to pass it on to someone who will appreciate it. Because at the end of the day, the best thing a machine can be is useful. It’s time for it to retire to warmer climes. There’s a poetry to the fact that in the process, it will complete a 100,000-mile round trip to the city and state where I first test drove it 10 years ago. Now it can help make memories for my sisters.

  The road is long, but I have the feeling its journey is just beginning.

  

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker in Tacoma, WA and is currently in the market for a new chariot of mythic proportions to fill with memories. You can read his short fiction on Creative Colloquy and follow him on Twitter.
  
• August 11, 2017

  Hell on Earth: Dachau

  

  When I was in high school, we read Night by Elie Wiesel, a semi-autobiographical account of Wiesel’s experience in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. In one scene, a child is hanged and someone asks where God is amid the horror. Someone else responds, “Where He is? This is where–hanging here from this gallows…” I remember putting the book down for a few minutes before continuing. In that moment, I thought I understood the Holocaust.

  But I did not truly understand the scale of the genocide that was committed by the Nazis until I visited Dachau.

  The first thing you notice when you arrive at the concentration camp at Dachau is how close it is to everything. Less than half an hour away from the center of Munich’s bustling metropolis by train, the infamous Nazi concentration camp sits on the edge of the small town of Dachau. I had expected a site of mass incarceration and slaughter to be somewhere remote, not in the heart of an idyllic Bavarian village. This thought — of how easy it is for atrocities to be committed when people are willing to look the other way — felt like a weight on my shoulders as the bus navigated the winding residential streets to the entrance of KZ Dachau.

  Stepping through the infamous wrought iron gate emblazoned with the words Arbeit Macht Frei (Work makes you free), the crowd of tourists dispersed. In a moment, we were virtually alone on the camp’s roll call grounds, where prisoners were made to stand for hours on end each day in every kind of weather.

  

  Dachau was built in 1933 to house 6,000 political prisoners. Over time, more and more prisoners were crammed in — including Jews, Roma and LGBTQ prisoners. By 1945, it held 31,000 people in inhuman conditions. Tens of thousands were killed here, as evidenced by accounts from survivors as well as the cold, meticulous records kept by the Nazis. Here, at Dachau, systematic dehumanization and mass murder was perfected and exported to camps across the Third Reich.

  For a few years in school, it seemed that every book that was assigned in English class was about the Holocaust. I remember thinking it was excessive to keep forcing us to read about a tragedy that unfolded decades before I was born. What was the point of rehashing the past?

  

  Years later, as I stood in a reconstructed barrack and looked at two sinks that were once shared by 2,000 malnourished, I felt, tangibly, the humanity of the people who suffered here and understood why we must never forget what happened here, why we have to keep learning about it and why we have to remain vigilant to prevent such an atrocity from happening again in our lifetime.

  Near the entrance of the camp, there is a large monument affirming — along with the Christian and Jewish sites dedicated to the memory of those who died — a commitment to learn the lessons of the Holocaust and pass them on. Like a modern-day Rosetta Stone, it’s written in four languages (French, English, German, and Russian) and reads: “May the example of those who were exterminated here between 1933-1945 because they resisted Nazism help to unite the living for the defense of peace and freedom and in respect for their fellow men.” It’s a reminder that is as important today as it was the day this camp was liberated and I hope it will always serve as a potent reminder of the dangers of demonizing those who are different than us.

  

  • Where: Dachau Concentration Camp
  • How to Get There: 25 minutes by S-Bahn from Munich, then about 10 minutes by bus from the train station to the entrance of the camp.
  • What To See: The museum housed in the camp’s maintenance building, the reconstructed barracks, and the Jewish and Christian memorials. Give yourself plenty of time.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and global traveler based in Tacoma, WA. This is the third in a three-part travel series about a recent trip he and his wife took to Europe. Previously: Munich and the Isle of Iona.
  

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