Levi Kelly is a vlogger that goes around testing and touring the very best cabins in the U.S. This guy stays in some damn cool places.
So when he says a cabin set in the humble Wisconsin backcountry is the best stay in all of America, it’s a big deal.
Check out Levi’s review of the Nordlys’ MetalLark Tower, near Federic, Wisconsin, the best Airbnb of 2021:
My passion for photography developed in a very specific way: through tinkering impetuously with camera lenses. This cannot be called reinventing photography, but it did shape me into the photographer I am today. Using a 45-millimeter tilt-shift lens, I folded the rubber in such a way that the image loses its characteristic sharpness in areas. With the right subject and perspective, the miniature effect quickly makes a realistic scene look orchestrated. Unconsciously, our mind interprets Tilt-Shift as something very small. This year, I focused my lens on life in New York, often from rooftops, bridges and observatories or from a helicopter or plane. The city simply ran its course and I documented it.
Photography by Jasper Léonard from his book, New York Resized, published by Lannoo Publishers
Círculo Mexicano is a hotel that favours contemporary simplicity, in the heart of a city that is anything but.
Over 20 million people call the metropolitan area of Mexico City and it’s mixture of fiesta, gritty neighbourhoods, dancehalls and tacos, home. Circulo offers a retreat from the colour of the city, but on the inside has remained true to Mexico. Textiles in each room are from Oaxacan artisans specialized in the use of wool and other fabrics.
You also don’t need to be an architect, or a Mexican, to enjoy the sleek, minimalist designs of every room in this boutique hotel. The restaurant’s upmarket features a delicious French-Mexican menu which, like the architecture, can be enjoyed by anyone..
Head up to the rooftop terrace in the afternoon for a dip in the pool, or for a Corona or tequila in the sun. This serves as either your preparation or respite from the craziness of the streets that surround.
Idaho will surprise most Aussies who love to ski or snowboard in the northern hemisphere winter. Apart from the old Hollywood glamour of Sun Valley though, there are three other top (but not as well known) resorts in Idaho’s northern panhandle to delight even the choosiest alpine adventurer.
Schweitzer Mountain Resort in the rugged Selkirk Mountains near Sandpoint (only 130 kilometres from Spokane International Airport and 105 kilometres from the Canadian border), is the largest ski resort in Idaho. Boasting some of the best powder in the northwest, it is renowned for its expert bowl chutes and glades, as well as nearly 1,200 hectares of skiable terrain, 610-metre vertical drops, 92 runs and three terrain parks. If that is not enough to get you waxing your skis, there is twilight skiing and 32 kilometres of cross-country trails. Oh, and most importantly, the amenities are first class with slope-side ski village accommodation and a lively après ski scene.
Silver Mountain, near Kellogg, just over an hour’s drive from Spokane on the I-90, is best known for its superlative tree skiing and long-lasting powder. There is a gondola village at the base, and you can enjoy a scenic ride on North America’s longest gondola to access the upper mountain slopes. For the kids, four runs of tubing fun with a carpet ride will provide hours of entertainment.
Lookout Pass, located on the Montana border near Wallace, is a cool, more local-style mountain that receives the most snow in all of northern Idaho. Great for learners, it also has progressive terrain parks and an unspoiled national forest setting.
All three resorts average more than 7.5 metres of that coveted powder snow per year. And because they are all relatively unknown, it means they are uncrowded, there are no lift lines, more skiable hectares per person and easy access through Spokane International Airport.
Sun Valley is where skiing learned to ski! Or so the folklore goes. This Idaho skiing mecca for those-in-the-know has never run out of style, or fashion.
Sun Valley was set up in an ideal four-season mountain region of south-central Idaho as the first destination winter resort by the Union Railroad in 1936, for the rich, the famous and the glamorous of Hollywood.
Earnest Hemingway fell in love with the area and finished “For Whom the Bell Tolls” at Sun Valley Lodge and is buried nearby. Marilyn Monroe, Clint Eastwood and too many other golden-era Hollywood names to list, also made this their winter playground. Over the years, its consistent pitch, lack of lift lines and variety of terrain have earned Sun Valley the reputation as one of the world’s finest ski resorts.
For skiers and boarders, Dollar Mountain is a separate learner’s haven, while Bald Mountain (affectionately known as Baldy) satisfies the most dedicated thrill seekers. The first chairlift was in Sun Valley and the resort now boasts the best snow-making facilities in the U.S., so you’re never going to run out of what you came for – great snow!
The lift lines are still non-existent, the day lodges luxe and the ski school legendary for group or individual tuition. The accommodation ranges from the historic western glamour at the ‘grande dame’ of resorts, Sun Valley Lodge, to ultra-chic at Limelight Hotel in the nearby town of Ketchum, or condos, apartments and everything in between.
For non-skiers, there is a huge range of fun experiences to enjoy. From a sleigh ride dinner at historic Trail Cabin in the woods, to ice skating, 40 km of cross-country skiing or hiking trails and exploring the authentic western town of Ketchum, with its bars, restaurants, and craft breweries there is fun a-plenty.
Fly into the local airport at Hailey (SUN) or take the scenic easy road-trip from Idaho’s capital of Boise, a great place to stay and sample one of the best, and fastest growing, cities in the west.
Boise is Idaho’s hip capital city, and one of the USA’s fastest growing towns. It’s the perfect entry point and pre or post stop on your road-trip to explore Idaho’s stunning ski fields.
Boise is a very walkable, green, friendly and safe city to explore with a vibrant downtown, cultural and culinary experiences, unique attractions and access to outdoor recreation. The Boise river runs through the heart of downtown, enhanced by a 25-mile Greenbelt of tree-lined pathways that access the city’s many parks.
The city boasts more than its fair share of locally-owned bars and restaurants, microbreweries and cider houses. It is also the home of the largest Basque community outside Europe and history- visitors can take a guided tour of the Basque museum, try Basque food; pintxos- Spanish style tapas, paella at the Basque Block Market and Deli and if the timing is right, attend the Jaialdi Festival (held only every five years) for full immersion.
A few of the other attractions and must-dos include a visit to the Peregrine Foundation’s Worldwide Center for Birds of Prey, dedicated to the study and preservation of raptors of all kinds. See these rare birds up close and check out the museum collection of the ancient art of falconry.
Craving outdoor exercise? Hike to Table Rock, a 3.7km loop trail just outside Boise for great views of the city, or try Cascade Raft & Kayak on the Payette River for an adrenaline rush.
Get your fill of retail therapy with cool houses in the Hyde Park neighborhood, listed on the National Historic Register or sample one of the many of the city’s first-class spas.
Drink your way through nearby wine country (yes! Idaho has a wine country with amazing wine…and breweries and food!). Boise has been called one of the best places for millennials to live in the U.S. but all visitors of all groups will find its charm and attractions hard to resist.
It’s no surprise that Idaho tops several lists when it comes to river sports. Idaho is home to the most navigable miles (3100) of whitewater in the continental USA. Whatever your skill level or available time, there are miles of adventure to discover on Idaho’s rivers.
The first commercial river rafting trips in the United States were launched in Idaho. Idaho outfitters always have been standard setters for the industry who can advise and take you on whitewater experiences ranging from easy 2-hour floats, one and two-day options for the time poor, to the excitement of a week- long adrenaline-fueled adventure and the wildest of whitewater.
The Salmon river is the most famous river in Idaho, and comprises different sections of the more than 300 miles for different experiences. The Middle Fork Salmon River is a legend in its own right and drops 3000 feet during its 105 mile Idaho rafting journey through Idaho’s remote and spectacular River of No Return Wilderness, the largest wilderness area in the lower 48 states. It is protected by Congress as one of America’s first Wild and Scenic Rivers and its whitewater rapids are perfect for all ages.
Families with younger children can play on river beaches, explore Indian rock art and pioneer homesteads on specially designed rafting trips.
The Snake river is another Idaho legend where you can try raft-supported hiking trips. Or, immerse yourself in spectacular American grandeur of America’s deepest river gorge on a four or five-day Snake River in Hells Canyon trip. Other options in Idaho include the Bruneau river that carves its way through a remote wilderness of awe-inspiring deep canyons.
Or try an inflatable kayak adventure on one of Idaho’s most remote river trips along the upper reaches of the Owyhee. For those with more experience, the Lochsa River is Idaho’s wildest class IV whitewater run – perfect for experts and thrillseekers.
The Route of the Hiawatha is considered one of the most scenic stretches of railroad in the U.S. and is now the most popular ski area bike trail in the country, attracting more than 70,000 riders in 2020.
The Route of the Hiawatha winds through the rugged Bitterroot Mountains in the St. Joe Ranger District of the Idaho Panhandle National Forest along an abandoned section of the Milwaukee Railroad. Its gentle 1.6-percent to 2-percent, all-downhill trail straddles the Idaho-Montana state line for 15 miles, through 10 dark tunnels and crossing seven sky-high steel train trestles.
Fifty interpretive trailside signs enhance the family-friendly experience, and tell the story of the railroad, the people who worked here, the forest, and the area’s rich history.
Lookout Pass Ski & Recreation Area is a short 7-mile ride to the East Portal trailhead for the Route of the Hiawatha. The resort offers lift-served downhill mountain biking, scenic chairlift rides up and down the mountain, lift-served hiking trails, a mountain summit nine-hole frisbee golf course, a bungee jump, and huckleberry picking later in the season.
There are five top-to-bottom downhill mountain bike trails with more planned. There are no jumps or wooden features on its family friendly trails, which vary from singletrack that winds through the woods and across ski trails to wider mountain-access roads. All the trails offer fun rides with some offering impressive views of the St. Regis Basin.
Lookout Pass offers rental bikes for adults and kids, as well as Burley bike trailers for youngsters and trikes and recumbent bikes for seniors and a few tandem bikes for the romantics. It also rents handlebar-mounted bike lights, necessary for riding through the route of the Hiawatha’s 10 dark tunnels, the longest of which burrows for 1.6 miles.
Special events during the summer include full-moon night rides and the Hiawatha Back to Nature Trail Run, a half marathon plus the Mountain Archery Festival, a family-focused event for archers of all abilities.
Dust off your boots, grab your gal or guy and two-step your way around the Broken Spoke – an Austin institution.
Owned and run by the same couple since 1964, this dusty dancehall is what honky tonk Texas is all about. Long neck beers, the best chicken fried steak in town (whatever that is), and wooden table and chairs where ladies wait for men to ask for their hand to dance. It’s all the real McCoy here – sagging wood floor, low ceilings in disrepair and a dance floor with pumping country music both live and DJ.
It’s rumoured to be Willie Nelson’s favourite hangout – not to mention countless other country music stars. It ain’t fancy, but it’s sure as hell fun. A treasure for Texans and tourists alike.
Dressed in worn jeans and tattered shirt with loads of camera gear strapped to my back, I feel like a bore. I zoom in on a gent pulling a pair of tighty-whities over his costume. They have a set of red balls hanging from the crotch. And I thought New Orleans was wild!
The cause for celebration is Courir de Mardi Gras, or what some call Cajun Mardi Gras. It’s held in towns throughout southern Louisiana, but one of the bigger events takes place right here in Eunice, about 250 kilometres west of New Orleans.
The day, misty and moody, began at 6am at the town’s community centre. Inside I asked the friendly folk who appeared to be in charge if there was any coffee. They pointed to a table lined with whisky shots. Partaking didn’t seem quite right since the sun hadn’t yet risen above the horizon, so I declined. Once dawn broke though, I reassessed the situation and helped myself to several. Hey, they were going fast.
Suitably buzzed, my friend Sarah and I climb aboard the float we’ve been invited to join. It’s actually a trailer with a corrugated tin roof and walls decorated with 3XL underwear, and is being hauled by a pick-up truck. Almost immediately we make friends with those already in position. They pass a Crown Royal jug from which we dutifully down a couple of swigs.
Cajuns are giving people and fiercely loyal to their European traditions. Many of them are descendants of the Acadians, French settlers exiled from Nova Scotia by the British in the mid-eighteenth century, while others’ families came from Quebec and even France itself. Their Mardi Gras is a completely different beast compared to the one celebrated in New Orleans.
It’s a tradition that dates back to medieval France. The rural poor, dressed in masks to hide their identities, trailed from house to house begging for food and money. The garb worn in Eunice these days is much the same, with the body covered in scraps of material, some of it turned into fringing, simulating the rags used centuries ago. The signature hats – conical caps called capuchons – add a whimsical flair as their wearers dance and beg along the parade route.
In Eunice, the revellers trail along the back roads, past acres of prairies and shallow ponds used for crawfish farming. All along the route, families lounging on lawn chairs or piled into the trays of their pick-up trucks await the parade. In another tradition that dates back generations, many of these homeowners offer food, everything from sandwiches to full buffets, to those on the move.
The Cajun people we’re with today bring new levels of artistry to pleading. The men crouch low on the bitumen, moving slowly toward the spectators much like hungry alligators hunting prey. Coins shower down on the footpath and the drunken fools scurry to gather them up. Further along the road mature ladies seem to know how to handle the younger men. They hold up coins and command them to roll across the road like trained mutts.
A horde of eager participants races after the bird through slush and mud. In what seems like no time, the winner stands triumphant, holding the rooster in the air like a prized trophy.
Remember the tighty-whitey guy? He decides to craft a musical instrument (of sorts) to join those playing tunes along the trail. He walks up to a home, asks for a black gumboot and PVC pipe, and marches back rocking out with his newfound boot fiddle.
By far one of the most anticipated parts of the day – and they happen at various times – are the chicken runs. Mounted on a horse, Capitaine Pat Frey, who has been in charge of proceedings at Eunice for 20 years, holds a rooster in the air, before releasing it and taking off at a gallop. A horde of eager participants races after the bird through slush and mud. In what seems like no time, the winner stands triumphant, holding the rooster in the air like a prized trophy.
In the past, the chickens were put in a pot of gumbo later that evening, but today they are treated more like poultry royalty. At least one of the victorious chicken-chasers carries the bird along the entire route, stroking its feathers. Several merrymakers take their chickens home to roost in the henhouse.
Two of the more comical chaps on our float have an obsession with muddied mischief. One is dressed in a costume covered with a tiny crawfish print, while the other’s is printed with miniature Confederate flags. They dive into dirty ditches then hop back on board the float wringing wet. It’s only a matter of time before they come crashing down on me, so I curl up in a ball caressing my camera like a sleeping infant.
There is some order to this madness though. The impressive co-captains of the parade – handsome men sitting tall on their steeds with lassos hanging from their saddles – blend in perfectly. With their flowing green and gold capes they’re almost like superheroes, eager to help anyone who finds themself in distress.
At midday, the krewe stops for lunch alongside a vast crawfish pond. Throngs of parade-goers line up like starving zombies, eager to scoff down a lavish link of boudin. It’s made the traditional way – a blend of spices, liver and rice squeezed into a slippery skin of pig intestine. You suck the yummy meat out of the casing into your mouth. Sure, it looks slightly X-rated but no one cares when everyone is this hungry.
As the day wears on, the music gets louder, the lips looser and the beer – well, it’s everywhere. Pick-up trucks bearing eskies filled with cold brews provide refreshment all along the route.
One of our by now extremely muddy cohorts jumps into a ditch and emerges with two crawfish to demonstrate his knack for making creature-feature earrings. “See, look, you just put the claws next to that meaty part of your earlobe,” he says, turning his head towards me and wincing a bit. “Then a quick pinch and you have a crawfish earring.”
By now, we’ve been going for hours and exhausted revellers hop on trailers to rest for a while. Jumping aboard a moving vehicle, however, is a bit tough, especially if you’ve been imbibing all day. They pick up the pace, running as fast as they can. Some have beads tangled around their necks seemingly about to choke them. With one giant leap, they stumble aboard the trailer and everyone cheers, raising their beer cans.
I’m now perched on the edge of an esky, just enough to keep my balance. There’s crazy stuff going on around me, so I scribble some notes to prove to myself later that I wasn’t hallucinating. A strange light is emanating from some silver silos, making them look like spaceships. “Hey, y’all, I need another swig of that Crown,” I yell, believing yet more alcohol might sharpen reality.
The landscape slowly changes from farmland to a few scattered homes before we finally enter downtown, where families with young children eagerly await the floats. With that, the masked marauders retreat to their roots.
One lively Cajun approaches a small boy and falls to his knees with hands clasped, begging for money. A bit timid, the youngster creeps forward then slowly drops a few coins into his hands. The masked gent bows his head in thanks, and slowly steps away. The minute his feet touch the road once more, he breaks into a Cajun jig.
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