Laughs, Lessons and Local Life: A Real-World Egypt Family Adventure

From camel chaos to temple adventures, this Egypt family travel story blends ancient sites, kid-powered mishaps and heartfelt local moments into one unforgettable trip.

There’s nothing quite like watching your 8-year-old barter for papyrus scrolls with a Cairo street vendor. His tactic? Dramatic sighing and a mournful “But I only have 10 pounds.” (It worked, by the way.) 

And so began our deep dive into the chaos, charm and contradictions of Egypt, a land where ancient monuments meet honking tuk-tuks, and your kid suddenly becomes a pint-sized negotiator.

We discovered that letting go — of schedules, expectations, WiFi — leads to the kinds of memories you can’t make in a classroom or on a screen.

We hadn’t planned on falling in love. Egypt had been one of those “Well, it’s educational” destinations, a check-the-box history lesson for the kids. But within 24 hours of landing, our agenda unraveled. Not in a bad way, but in that glorious, sun-drenched, sand-between-your-toes kind of way where plans give way to experiences. Opting for one of the curated Egypt tours packages turned out to be our greatest travel hack, providing structure where we needed it, and freedom where we craved it.


Feluccas, Falafel and Family Chaos

Our first Nile-side morning began with mint tea and a hotel balcony view that could humble even the most screen-addicted teen. The Nile shimmered like it knew it was important. Down below, feluccas caught the morning light, while a rooster (somehow on the sixth floor?) reminded us that alarm clocks are overrated.

Breakfast was a lesson in logistics, three kids, four plates of ful medames, and one very opinionated guide named Amira, who declared, “Today we walk like Egyptians.” Cue eye rolls from the teenagers. Cue “Walk Like an Egyptian” humming from dad. Cue me silently questioning my life choices.

Yet by midday, we were temple-hopping with the best of them. Karnak left us speechless, partly because of its scale, and partly because we were playing “spot the gods” while sweating profusely. The kids learned to recognize Horus and Anubis like old cartoon characters. I learned that wearing white linen isn’t just stylish; it’s survival.


Family rides camels by the Pyramids of Giza, the father's hat flying off

Kids, Camels and Culture Shock

Camel rides? Predictably chaotic. Our youngest named his camel Beyoncé. Beyoncé had opinions. Mostly about not walking straight. Still, nothing beats watching your children burst into uncontrollable laughter as their parents bounce wildly through the desert like disjointed marionettes.

But it wasn’t all slapstick. Somewhere between Giza and Aswan, the lessons snuck in. Our middle child, who rarely looks up from her phone, asked if we could visit a Coptic church “just to see.” Later, our eldest scribbled down notes about hieroglyphs, claiming it was “for a school project.” (Sure it was.) And all of us, parents included, began saying “Inshallah” with frightening regularity.

A family sits on the floor by their Egyptian hostess, various bowls of food on a mat, a young boy spilling lentils

The Food That Made Us Stay a Little Longer

Egyptian food is like that cousin who insists you try just one more bite. And then five more. Shawarma wraps became our lunch religion. Koshari, a carb-on-carb-on-carb masterpiece, had the kids questioning everything they thought they knew about dinner. And don’t even get me started on the desserts: basbousa, konafa — sticky, sweet, and somehow always appearing just when you said you were full.

One night, our guide invited us for a home-cooked meal with her extended family. We sat on floor cushions, passed dishes around with our hands, and managed to communicate with smiles, hand gestures, and the universal language of children upending a bowl of lentils.

What We Took Home (Besides Sand in Our Socks)

Travel doesn’t always go as planned. You miss a train. Someone gets food poisoning. You accidentally offend a shopkeeper by declining tea. (Pro tip: Just drink the tea.) But in Egypt, those moments weren’t failures; they were the trip.

Our youngest now claims he wants to be an archaeologist. The middle one added “learn Arabic” to her birthday wish list. And we, the tired grownups, discovered that letting go — of schedules, expectations, WiFi — leads to the kinds of memories you can’t make in a classroom or on a screen.

So if you’re thinking of going, with kids, with chaos, with curiosity, Egypt’s got room for it all. Just pack extra patience, an open heart, and maybe a few 10-pound notes for some persuasive bargaining practice. –Jarno van Bazel


Tips for Finding LPN Jobs Abroad With Travel Opportunities

Dreaming of nursing overseas? Here's how licensed practical nurses (LPNs) can find jobs abroad — plus what to watch out for before you go.

An LPN walks across a bridge in London, with the London Eye, Parliament and Big Ben in the background

Let’s be honest: The dream of working abroad isn’t just for tech bro digital nomads with a laptop and a hammock. If you’re a licensed practical nurse (LPN), you may have a serious case of wanderlust — and a skillset the world genuinely needs.

Maybe you’ve always imagined yourself helping underserved communities in rural clinics. Maybe you want a taste of life in a totally different healthcare system. Either way, the good news is this: Gone are the days when nurses were expected to spend their entire career in one hospital corridor. Today, opportunities to live and work abroad are growing — and they’re not just for RNs.

So, how do you land one of these gigs? Start here. 

A female nurse talks with an older male patient in a hospital bed

What to Know About LPN Jobs Abroad

Before you pack your stethoscope and passport, it’s worth noting that every country has its own rules and red tape. Some of it’s navigable. Some of it’s…less so. Either way, you’ll want to keep the following in mind:

  • Licensing. Many countries require you to complete local training, pass an exam, or jump through a few bureaucratic hoops before you’re cleared to work. This can take time — so plan ahead.

  • Languages. Not every hospital abroad operates in English. (Shocking, I know.) But some hospitals offer language support or cultural onboarding. It’s worth asking.

  • Visas. Just because someone wants to hire you doesn’t mean you’ll get a visa. International politics can make things tricky — so always double-check the latest entry requirements for healthcare workers.

  • Cultural adaptation. Working abroad isn’t just about a change of scenery; it’s a whole new way of life. From patient expectations to hierarchy and hours, the differences can be monumental. Try to connect with other nurses who’ve worked in your target country. Nothing beats firsthand insight.

A male nurse talks to a female nurse over coffee, pointing to a map near a laptop

Where to Look for LPN Jobs Abroad

Let’s talk logistics: Where do you actually find these jobs? Below are some of the best avenues for finding LPN jobs with a side of adventure.

1. Travel agencies for nurses

Yes, they exist. But before diving headfirst into agency life, we recommend starting with a broad search for travel nursing jobs on a platform like Jooble. It’s a great way to get a lay of the land: what’s out there, which countries are hiring, and what the job descriptions actually look like.

Once you have a clearer sense of your options, consider reaching out to travel nursing agencies. When comparing agencies, don’t forget to ask about:

  • Salary and benefits. Make sure you’re covered — literally. That includes health insurance, housing stipends, travel expenses and any relocation support.

  • Assignments offered. Some agencies specialize in urban hospitals. Others focus on rural or humanitarian work. Pick your adventure wisely.

  • Reputation. Read reviews, join nursing forums and ask tough questions. A flashy website doesn’t guarantee reliable support once you’re overseas.

A female LPN in a head scarf walks through Dubai at sunset, the Burj Khalifa in the background

2. Hospital websites abroad

Many hospitals recruit directly, especially in countries facing nursing shortages. Some top destinations for international LPNs include:

  • The United Kingdom. The NHS (National Health Service) is actively recruiting from abroad and offers solid benefits and onboarding support. If you’re considering the UK, check out this guide to the best neighborhoods in London to find the right place to live and work as a nurse abroad.

  • The UAE and Saudi Arabia. These Middle East countries offer high pay, tax-free income and accommodations — but be sure to research cultural norms before you go.

  • Ireland. With a growing demand for healthcare professionals, Ireland has been expanding its recruitment efforts for international nurses.

If a particular country intrigues you, search for major hospital websites and check their careers page. Bonus points if you reach out directly — they may have openings that aren’t widely posted.

A male nurse with tattoos walks along a grassy cliffside over the water in Ireland

3. Professional nursing organizations

These aren’t just for continuing education credits or annual dues. They can also be powerful tools for international job hunting. Look to:

  1. ICN (International Council of Nurses). Active in over 130 countries, this organization offers job listings, policy info, and resources on nursing rights worldwide.

  2. The American Nurses Association (ANA). If you’re U.S.-based, ANA is a great hub for networking, certification guidance and career resources.

  3. NMC (The Nursing and Midwifery Council) in the UK. If you’re eyeing Britain, this is your official go-to.

Most countries have a version of these organizations. Find yours, and see if they have a global or outreach division.

4. Online job boards

Don’t sleep on the classics. Sites like Indeed, Glassdoor and LinkedIn often list international nursing jobs. While they may not all cater specifically to LPNs, many roles are labeled more broadly as “nurses” or “practical nurses.” Use multiple boards, track your applications carefully, and don’t be afraid to follow up.

Pro tip: Set up alerts for keywords like “LPN abroad,” “international nurse” or “travel nurse” plus the country name to stay ahead of new postings.

A female nurse sits on a stone wall talking to a young boy outside a clinic in the mountains of Nepal

Get Ready to Move!

You’re already in one of the most respected and needed professions on the planet. Why not take those talents global?

Whether you’re hoping to work in a bustling London hospital, a remote health outpost in Nepal, or a sleek clinic in the Emirates, your nursing license could be your ticket to a whole new life. Just do your homework, check your credentials, and trust that the right opportunity is out there.

It’s not about escaping your current life — it’s about expanding it. It could be just what the doctor ordered. –Dmytro Leiba

Controversial Takes on the Tower of Babel

Why did God really scatter humanity at Babel? A tale of ambition, jealousy, power — and the tower that dared to reach the heavens.

The Tower of Babel by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

The Tower of Babel by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1563

The story of the Tower of Babel is one of humanity’s earliest and most ambitious projects — a symbol of both unity and defiance. 

In Genesis, after Noah gets drunk and curses his grandson Canaan, the whole world spoke a single language and, as people settled in the plains of Shinar, they devised a plan: “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens” (Genesis 11:4). Their goal? To make a name for themselves and prevent being scattered across the Earth.

But their ambition drew the attention of God. Observing their progress, he said, “Behold, they are one people, and they all have one language … and nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them” (Genesis 11:6). And so, to disrupt their hubris, God confused their language, making it impossible for them to understand each other. The tower was abandoned, and the place became known as Babel. 

This brief but powerful narrative has sparked centuries of debate. What was so dangerous about this unified human effort? And does the name Babel hint at a deeper meaning? Let’s explore the surprising theories surrounding this ancient tale.

Turris Babel by Athanasius Kircher

Turris Babel by Athanasius Kircher, 1679

Babel: What’s in a Name?

The name “Babel” plays a central role in this story, and its meaning has intrigued scholars for centuries. Genesis 11:9 tells us, “Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the Earth.” The Hebrew word balal, meaning “to confuse,” is a fitting explanation for the chaos that ensued when languages were divided. But there’s more to the name than a simple pun.

Historically, Babel is associated with Babylon, one of the most powerful cities in ancient Mesopotamia. In Akkadian, the word Bab-ilu means “Gate of the God(s),” which gives the story an ironic twist. What was meant to be a gateway to the divine became a symbol of divine judgment. Scholars like John H. Walton, in Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament, suggests that the story reflects a jab at Babylon, a city known for its monumental architecture and imperial power.

In this context, the Tower of Babel may not just be a story of human pride but also a critique of Babylon’s attempts to centralize control and elevate itself to divine status. As the story unfolds, the name Babel takes on layers of meaning — confusion, divine intervention and the limits of human ambition.

An L-shaped depiction of the Tower of Babel's construction from a late medieval manuscript of Rudolf von Ems’ Weltchronik

From a manuscript of Rudolf von Ems’ Weltchronik, circa  1370s

The Tower: Architectural Marvel or Symbol of Tyranny?

What exactly was the Tower of Babel? Some see it as a simple architectural wonder, a testament to early human ingenuity. Others, however, argue that it was more symbolic — a representation of a dangerous kind of unity, one that leaned toward tyranny.

Scholars like André Parrot, in The Tower of Babel, point out that the tower could have been modeled after the ziggurats of Mesopotamia. These massive stepped structures weren’t just places of worship; they were symbols of power, often commissioned by rulers to display their authority and connection to the divine. In the case of Babel, the tower may have been a political statement as much as a religious one — a way for the people of Shinar (modern-day Iraq) to consolidate their power and make a name for themselves.

Bruce K. Waltke, in Genesis: A Commentary, takes this a step further, suggesting that the story represents a critique of human arrogance and centralized control. By attempting to build a tower “with its top in the heavens,” humanity was essentially overstepping its bounds, aiming to control not just the Earth, but the heavens, too. For God, much like with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, and that tempting fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, this was an example of human overreach. It also revealed mankind’s potential for tyranny. The scattering of people and languages, then, was more about disrupting a dangerous concentration of power.

Was the Tower of Babel merely a marvel of human engineering, or was it a warning about the dangers of unchecked ambition and centralized control? The story leaves room for both interpretations.

Tower of Babel by Lucas van Valckenborch

Tower of Babel by Lucas van Valckenborch, 1594

A Test of Unity or Divine Jealousy?

At the heart of the Tower of Babel story is a question: Why did God intervene? Was it simply a matter of preventing human overreach, or was there something more behind his actions? Some scholars argue that God’s decision to divide humanity was a way of protecting us from ourselves, while others suggest it could reflect a more unsettling aspect of divine jealousy.

The Babel story could represent God’s concern over humanity’s growing self-sufficiency. By working together with one language and a unified purpose, humanity was moving toward a level of technological and social advancement that might have made us too self-reliant — possibly even eliminating the need for divine authority. The creation of numerous languages, then, served as a divine check on human ambition, ensuring that we remain dependent on God’s guidance. (I’m not sure why he hasn’t stepped in since, say, with the rise of AI.) 

In other words, God was acting jealous and petty. Whether seen as protective or punitive, the confusion of languages suggests that unity without divine blessing was considered dangerous. Was it out of care or control that God intervened? Scholars continue to debate the deeper motivations behind this ancient narrative.

Workers in an idyllic setting optimistically build the Tower of Babel

The Tower as a Return to Eden?

Could the Tower of Babel have been more than just a display of human ambition? Some scholars suggest that it represented humanity’s attempt to re-create the unity they once experienced in the Garden of Eden: a world where they lived in harmony with each other and with God.

Phyllis Trible, in Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives, explores the idea that the Babel project symbolized a desire to return to the original state of unity that existed before the Fall. In Eden, humanity walked in close proximity to God, speaking a divine language, free of conflict and strife. By building a tower “with its top in the heavens,” humans may have been trying to reclaim that lost connection and regain their place alongside the divine.

RELATED: What Does God Look Like?

John H. Walton, in The Lost World of Genesis One, sees things a bit rosier. He argues that God’s disruption of the Babel project was actually a protective act. After the Fall, humans were no longer capable of re-creating Eden through their own efforts. God’s scattering of people and languages could be seen as a way to prevent a repeat of the Fall — protecting humanity from trying to reenter a paradise they could no longer access without divine intervention.

RELATED: Controversial Takes on Cain and Abel

In this light, Babel becomes a story about the limits of human power and the dangers of trying to forcefully regain what was lost in Eden. The scattered languages and divided nations reflect the reality that Eden, and its perfect unity, is gone — at least until a new kind of divine reconciliation can be achieved.

A man throws his arms up as workers despair at the Tower of Babel in The Confusion of Tongues by Gustave Doré

The Confusion of Tongues by Gustave Doré, 1866

The Role of Language: Tool of Power or Divine Gift?

Language plays a crucial role in the story of Babel. The multiplying of languages is God’s method of halting the ambitious project. But what does this division of tongues truly represent? Was it a curse to fracture human unity, or could it be seen as a divine gift, ensuring cultural diversity and preventing totalitarianism?

Some scholars think that the confusion of languages was a political move. By disrupting a single language, God introduced a tool that ensures division and decentralization, preventing any one group from gaining unchecked power over the world. 

In this view, language becomes a form of control. It prevents unified rebellion or dominance by any one people, a theme that would echo through later biblical stories of empires rising and falling.

Others, like Joseph Blenkinsopp in Creation, Un-Creation, Re-Creation, propose that language diversity could be seen as part of God’s larger plan for humanity. Rather than cursing humanity with confusion, the diversity of languages allowed for cultural richness, individuality and the development of multiple civilizations. This theory suggests that pre-Babel unity wasn’t a utopian ideal, but rather a stifling form of uniformity. The multiplying of languages, then, might represent a divine gift that celebrates diversity and human potential in new and unexpected ways.

An angry God hovers about the Tower of Babel, as people scatter in anguish

Theological Implications of Babel: Was God’s Action Justified?

The Tower of Babel story raises profound theological questions about the nature of God’s intervention. Was the scattering of people and languages a necessary measure to protect humanity, or was it an example of divine overreach? Scholars remain divided on whether God’s actions in this story reflect wisdom … or an overly controlling approach to human progress.

Walter Brueggemann, in Genesis: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, interprets God’s scattering of the people as a protective act. He suggests that God saw humanity’s unified ambition as leading toward potential self-destruction. By disrupting their efforts, God prevented them from becoming too powerful and overstepping their natural limits, much like the consequences faced in Eden. As God observed, “Nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them” (Genesis 11:6). In this view, divine intervention was an act of mercy, keeping humanity from a path that could have led to another downfall.

On the other hand, David J.A. Clines, in The Theme of the Pentateuch, offers a more critical perspective. Clines questions whether God’s disruption of human progress was truly necessary. What if humanity had been allowed to continue its work, even if it led to failure? This view suggests that God’s intervention may have been a way to maintain divine authority, ensuring that humanity could never challenge or rival God’s position. In this reading, the confusion of languages represents a limit imposed by God — not on humanity’s safety, but on its potential.

These contrasting perspectives raise a larger question: Was God justified in scattering humanity and fragmenting their language — or was it an overreaction to a collective project that may have been doomed to fail on its own? As with many Old Testament stories, the answer depends on how you interpret divine-human relationships and the boundaries between freedom and control.

A modern take on the Tower of Babel by Endre Rozsda

Tower of Babel by Endre Rozsda, 1958

Babel’s Legacy

The Tower of Babel story is often seen as a straightforward tale about human pride and divine punishment. But as we’ve explored, it’s anything but simple. From questions about the true meaning of Babel’s name to debates over whether God’s actions were protective or controlling, this ancient narrative touches on themes of unity, power and the human desire for greatness. Was Babel a symbol of technological tyranny, a return to Eden, or an expression of divine jealousy? Each theory offers new insights into the relationship between humanity and the divine.

Ultimately, the Tower of Babel reminds us that the limits placed on human ambition — whether through language or culture — aren’t just about division, but about the complexity of freedom. As people reached for the heavens, they were brought back to earth, scattered, perhaps not as punishment but as a way to preserve our potential for diversity, creativity and growth. 

The conversation around Babel continues — in a variety of languages. –Wally

Madrid Legends and Ghost Stories: Haunting Tales From Spain’s Capital

Discover Madrid’s haunted history — from royal scandals to ghostly legends that still linger in its palaces, plazas and rooftops.

You could go almost anywhere on this spinning green globe — but Spain hits different. Sure, the sun-drenched beaches of Tenerife and Mallorca are calling, and flamenco in Sevilla is a whole event in itself. But if you’re like me, you want something more than a postcard. You want stories. Secrets. Shadows.

And while Sevilla has its share of ghost stories, I ended up in Madrid — not just for the churros and Goya paintings, but for the whispered legends hidden in its rooftops and courtyards.

A city of over 3 million residents, Madrid welcomes more than 10 million visitors a year — and for good reason. Beneath its modern buzz lies something older, stranger…and far more haunting.

Because everywhere you go in this city, the past follows.

Madrid: Where Legends Linger

Madrid might be one of Europe’s most modern cities — sleek, global, buzzing with energy — but scratch the surface, and you’ll find tales that have been passed down for centuries. Think royal cover-ups, wandering ghosts, and mysterious women who might’ve been wolves.

Let’s start with a few stories you won’t find on your average travel blog.

1. The House of the Seven Chimneys

In the heart of Madrid sits a 16th-century mansion with (you guessed it) seven chimneys poking into the skyline. The building was home to Elena, a young noblewoman married to a soldier who went off to war — and never came back. Soon after, Elena herself died under suspicious circumstances. Her body vanished without a trace.

Rumors swirled: Had she taken her own life? Was there foul play? Some even whispered she’d been entangled with a royal — possibly the son of Philip II.

To this day, people say her ghost still wanders the roof, weaving between the chimneys, searching.

2. The White Lady of Linares Palace

This one sounds like a Gothic novel, but the Linares Palace — now Casa de América — has its own ghostly drama. The story goes like this:

The Marquis of Linares fell in love with a humble cigarette vendor, and they had a daughter. Years later, his own son, unaware of her identity, married the girl. Only after their wedding — and after having a child — did they discover the truth: They were half-siblings.

What happened next is murky. One version claims the couple ended their child’s life in despair. Now, visitors report ghostly whispers and shadows in the palace. Paranormal teams have even claimed to record unexplained voices.

La Loba de Madrid, the She-Wolf, in ragged clothes, stands by a traveler, with bones at her feet

3. La Loba de Madrid (The She-Wolf)

“La loba” was slang for a certain kind of woman — alluring, dangerous, often outside society’s norms. One legend tells of a woman who roamed the hills near Madrid, guiding lost travelers to safety. Another paints her as a shapeshifter who wandered the outskirts at night, collecting bones.

Prostitute, protector, predator — take your pick. Either way, Madrid’s she-wolf still prowls through local folklore.

4. The Nude Maja and Goya’s Secret Muse

Francisco de Goya’s La Maja Desnuda (The Nude Maja) caused quite the stir in the late 18th century. The reclining woman, completely unclothed, was bold enough to warrant a private viewing — and later, an order for a second version with clothes, just in case anyone fainted.

This one isn’t a ghost story, but it’s one of Madrid’s great artistic mysteries. Who was the model? Many suspect the Duchess of Alba, one of Goya’s rumored lovers. But no one knows for sure — and that uncertainty only deepens the allure behind her half-smile.

Madrid Ghost Tours

If you really want to uncover these stories, book Madrid private tours with a guide who knows the city’s darker side. Ask about the palace hauntings. Peer up at the seven chimneys. Linger a moment longer on the quiet steps of Linares.

Let the past walk beside you.

And if you listen closely, you just might hear someone — or something — whisper your name. –Mark San Juan


Want a different kind of mystery? Follow Dan Brown’s Origin trail through Spain.

Chapultepec Castle’s Lavish Décor and Imperial Intrigue in CDMX

Take a room-by-room tour of Chapultepec Castle — North America’s only royal palace — and uncover the imperial lives of Maximilian, Carlota and Porfirio Díaz in the heart of Mexico City.

Schoolchildren pass by Grasshopper Fountain at Chapultepec Castle in CDMX

The deeper we wandered into Chapultepec Castle, the more it felt like we were stepping back in time. 

It’s the only royal palace in North America that actually housed monarchs: Emperor Maximilian and Empress Carlota, who brought European grandeur, idealism (and a fair share of drama) to Mexico City. Their brief, ill-fated reign left a lasting mark on the castle and the country — a poignant reminder of how imperial ambition once shaped the course of Mexican history.

The carriage of Emperor Maximilian and Charlotte at the Alcázar of Chapultepec

This extravagant carriage belonged to Maximilian and Charlotte.

Sala de Carruajes (Carriage Room)

After making our way out of the west wing, which houses the Museo Nacional de Historia, Wally and I found ourselves in the Sala de Carruajes (Carriage Room). This covered space features historic carriages and serves as the main entrance to the Alcázar, or Royal Palace. 

At the center of the room is the royal coach that belonged to Maximilian and Charlotte. Designed for special occasions, the ornate Baroque-style carriage was meticulously fabricated in 1864 by the Cesare Scala workshop in Milan, Italy and later shipped to Mexico. 

Its gold detailing, sculpted cherubs, and doors bearing the coat of arms of the Mexican Empire, an eagle atop a nopal devouring a serpent, beneath an imperial crown — lend the carriage an air of majestic splendor.

According to records from the National Museum of History, the carriage was used only twice, contributing to its near perfect condition. You could almost imagine it rolling through the streets, drawing every eye in its path.

Additionally, a more modest four-wheeled carriage, designed in Paris, France by Henri Binder for everyday transport, is also on display. Originally built for Maximilian, it was adapted for President Benito Juárez. While its wheels kept turning, they no longer carried a king. Maximilian’s imperial crest was replaced with the emblem of the republic — minus the imperial crown.

We spent hours exploring the castle’s magnificent halls, grand stairways and stunning rooms — not to mention the breathtaking views from the top of Chapultepec Hill.

Just beyond the room’s entrance is the first of two large-scale works by Antonio González Orozco, one of the last great artists of the Mexican muralist movement: Entrada Triunfal de Benito Juárez al Palacio Nacional, Acompañando de Su Gabinete (The Triumphal Arrival of Benito Juárez at the National Palace, Accompanied by His Cabinet), painted in 1967.

Nearby is another painting by Orozco: Juárez, Símbolo de la República Frente a la Intervención Francesa (Juárez, Symbol of the Republic Against the French Intervention), which celebrates Juárez’s role in preserving Mexican sovereignty during the French Intervention. His resistance to foreign rule and efforts to restore the republic earned him the Colombian government’s honorific title Benemérito de las Américas (Worthy of the Americas).

Among the other artworks in the room are three equestrian portraits: one of Maximilian of Habsburg, painted in 1865 by French artist Jean Adolphe Beaucé; one of General Mariano Escobedo; and one of General Porfirio Díaz, painted by Spanish soldier and artist José Cusachs in 1901.

Visitors stand in the narrow Sala Introductoria (Introductory Hall) at Chapultepec Castle

A detail of the intricate Baroque plasterwork inside the Sala Introductoria.

Sala Introductoria (Introductory Hall)

Behind the Carriage Room, Wally and I stepped into a long, narrow hallway with wooden floors and a gilt plasterwork ceiling. This elegant corridor is now known as the Sala Introductoria (Introductory Hall), and features placards that tell the stories of its most notable residents, including Maximilian and Charlotte, as well as Díaz. 

Querido Max (Dear Max) by Miguel Carillo Lara in the Introductory Hall at Chapultepec Castle

Querido Max (Dear Max) by Miguel Carillo Lara, 2003

During Maximilian’s reign, this space served a very different purpose. It was a skittles alley, a game similar to bowling, where players would roll a wooden ball or disc down the hall, aiming to knock over nine pins arranged in a diamond formation. 

Attack on the Castle Chapultepec, a print by Nathaniel Currier from 1848

Attack on the Castle Chapultepec, a print by Nathaniel Currier, 1848

History of Chapultepec Castle

Chapultepec Castle’s appearance was shaped largely by two men: Maximilian I of the Austrian House of Habsburg, who ruled Mexico from 1864 to 1867, and Porfirio Díaz, who took power in 1876 and held onto it for over 30 years. 

Maximilian transformed the castle into a lavish imperial residence, while Díaz, an avid Francophile, despite fighting against the French in the Second Franco-Mexican War, modernized and expanded the structure. The castle remained the official presidential residence until 1934, when President Lázaro Cárdenas relocated the residence to Los Pinos. 

Not long after, on February 3, 1939, Cárdenas declared that Chapultepec Castle would become the National Museum of History. It officially opened to the public on September 27, 1944, during the presidency of Manuel Ávila Camacho.

The Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph (future emperor of Mexico) and his wife Charlotte of Belgium

The Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph (future emperor of Mexico) and his wife Charlotte of Belgium

The French Intervention in Mexico 

So, how did Mexico come to have an Austrian emperor?

It all started in the 1830s, when France began eyeing Mexico as a place to extend its influence, most notably during the Pastry War (1838–1839), a brief conflict sparked by complaints over damages to French-owned businesses. Although France never established a formal colony, its cultural and economic presence grew, especially in cities like Veracruz and Mexico City.

After years of political turmoil, Mexico’s economy was in ruins. In 1861, President Juárez made a bold move — he suspended all foreign debt payments. European creditors were infuriated, prompting France, Spain and Britain to send troops, determined to collect what they were owed. 

But it soon became clear that France, under Napoleon III, had bigger ambitions than debt recovery. By April 1862, Britain and Spain, unwilling to be drawn into an imperial venture, withdrew, leaving France to pursue its grand designs alone.

Napoleon wanted to establish a French-backed monarchy in Mexico to boost French influence in the Americas and counterbalance the growing power of the United States. 

French troops marched inland, but on May 5, 1862, they ran into stiff resistance at the Battle of Puebla, where Mexican forces under General Ignacio Zaragoza pulled off a stunning victory — a moment still celebrated every Cinco de Mayo.

However, the French regrouped, and returned stronger. By June 1863, they captured Mexico City, and Juárez and his government were forced into exile in the north.

With Mexico under French control, Napoleon needed a suitable European noble to serve as emperor. He found his answer in Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph of Austria, the younger brother of Emperor Franz Joseph I. As the second son, Maximilian had lived in his brother’s shadow. He was idealistic, ambitious and increasingly disillusioned with his limited role in Europe. 

Departure for Mexico by Cesare dell'Acqua, 1865, showing Maximilian and Charlotte on a boat

Departure for Mexico by Cesare dell'Acqua, 1865. The royal couple head out to rule Mexico — a reign that would be short-lived and would end with Maximilian’s execution in 1867.

Emperor Maximillian Goes to Mexico

At first Maximilian hesitated. But the promise of power and glory in Mexico eventually won him over. With the encouragement of his equally determined wife, Princess Charlotte of Belgium, he accepted Napoleon’s offer. On May 28, 1864, the couple arrived in Mexico to begin their reign as Emperorador Maximiliano I and Emperatriz Carlota of Mexico.

Settling into their new roles, Maximilian and Charlotte chose Castillo de Chapultepec as their imperial residence, overseeing renovations to transform it into a grand European-style palace. They saw themselves as enlightened rulers, destined to bring stability and prosperity to a nation fractured by years of war.

While conservative elites had initially welcomed the monarchy, many Mexicans remained unconvinced. Juárez’s supporters, known as Juaristas, refused to recognize Maximilian’s authority and launched a sustained resistance movement. In an effort to win public support, Maximilian introduced several liberal reforms. These included protections for workers, efforts to limit working hours, and the promotion of fair labor practices. He also issued decrees aimed at restoring land rights to indigenous communities, reversing some of the damage done by earlier liberal reforms that had led to the loss of communal lands.

L'Exécution de Maximilien(The Execution of Emperor Maximilian) by Édouard Manet, 1869

L'Exécution de Maximilien (The Execution of Emperor Maximilian) by Édouard Manet, 1869

The End of the Second Mexican Empire

Ironically, Maximilian proved too liberal for the conservatives who had brought him to power. They hadn’t signed up for an emperor who challenged their privilege and wealth.

As tensions mounted, international pressure began to close in. After the American Civil War ended in 1865, the U.S. government officially recognized Juárez as Mexico’s legitimate leader and strongly urged France to withdraw support. By 1866, under increasing diplomatic pressure from the United States, Napoleon began withdrawing French troops from Mexico, effectively ending armed intervention and leaving Maximilian without critical support. 

Determined not to relinquish power, Charlotte sailed to Europe in July 1866, pleading with Napoleon III, Pope Pius IX and her royal relatives to continue supporting the empire. But her mission failed — and the emotional toll broke her. She suffered a mental breakdown  in Rome and never returned to Mexico.

Back home, Maximilian made his final stand in the city of Querétaro. On May 15, 1867, Republican forces broke through, after one of Maximilian’s own men, Colonel Miguel López, betrayed him. Captured along with his generals Miguel Miramón and Tomás Mejía, he was quickly sentenced to death.

Despite desperate pleas from European monarchs — including his own brother — President Juárez stood firm. Granting a pardon would have weakened his stance and undermined the republic. 

On June 19, 1867, Maximilian and his generals were executed by firing squad on Cerro de las Campanas, the Hill of the Bells, bringing the Second Mexican Empire to a dramatic and final end. (The First Mexican Empire, led by Agustín de Iturbide, had collapsed decades earlier in 1823, after barely two years of shaky rule following independence from Spain.)

Pink and white furniture in the Sala de Lectura (Reading Room) at Chapultepec Castle

A pair of alabaster vases, featuring the coat of arms of the Second Mexican Empire, sit atop pedestals flanking a grand bookcase, while the sideboard holds a bust of French poet and fabulist Jean de La Fontaine. 

Sala de Lectura (Reading Room)

Rooms on the ground floor are accessible from a gleaming black and white marble promenade and have been restored to reflect their appearance during the time of Emperor Maximilian and Empress Charlotte. 

After the skittles alley, the first room we saw was the Sala de Lectura (Reading Room), where Maximilian spent time reading, drafting decrees, and handling both official and personal correspondence. 

As we took it all in, something on the red damask-covered wall caught our eye: a dark, rectangular outline, like a shadow frozen in time. It was clear that a large painting had once hung there. Our curiosity got the best of us, so I did a little digging online later and found out it had been a full-length portrait of Maximilian.

To be honest, this is probably the least impressive of the palace rooms. It’s all uphill from here. Louis XV-style giltwood chairs and a settee, upholstered in Aubusson tapestries, depict scenes from Jean de La Fontaine’s fables. While the term “tapestry” is typically associated with wall hangings, Aubusson’s craftsmanship extends to rugs and furniture upholstery as well.

Burgundy and offwhite murals showing noblemen playing games in the Salón de Juego (Game Room) at Chapultepec Castle

The set of tapestries depicting nobleman playing games, fittingly adorning the Game Room, were a gift from Napoleon III to Maximilian for his birthday.

Salón de Juego (Game Room)

The next room was the Salón de Juego (Game Room), which was about half the size of the Reading Room. Its walls were decorated with scenes of noblemen dressed in elaborate 16th century finery — frilly pleated collars, puffed-out pumpkin breeches and cloaks — engaged in games such as badminton, bilboquet (a cup and ball toy) and the aforementioned skittles.

A long table in the Comedor (Dining Room) at Chapultepec Castle

The overmantle bears the eagle and snake coat of arms, while the sideboard features a pair of putti holding Díaz’s seal, ‘RM,’ which stands for República Mexicana.

Comedor (Dining Room)

Immediately following was the Comedor, or Dining Room. The fireplace mantelpiece and sideboards, masterfully handcarved from mahogany by Pedro Téllez Toledo and Epitacio Calvo, were commissioned during the 1880s during Díaz’s presidency. Above the topless caryatids, symbolizing Mexico’s agricultural abundance, hung another elegant Aubusson tapestry, this one depicting a fox and a duck.

The dining table was equally impressive. Tooled leather chairs with nailhead studs surrounded it, and the table itself was set with silver-plated serving pieces and candelabra from Maximilian’s own service — crafted by Christofle of Paris, no less, the same silversmith favored by Napoleon III. 

Salón de Gobelinos (Hall of Gobelins) with a piano and portraits on a pink wall at Chapultepec Castle

The Music Room includes chairs upholstered with tapestries depicting the fables of Jean de La Fontaine and two grand pianos.

Salón de Gobelinos (Hall of Gobelins)

Much to our disappointment, the Salón de Gobelinos (Hall of Gobelins) wasn’t named after mischievous little creatures from folklore, as we had hoped. Instead, it gets its name from the Gobelin family of clothmakers. Their Paris workshop became world-famous, and in this case, the name refers to the aforementioned Aubusson-woven textiles that cover the Louis XV furniture throughout the room.

Salón de Gobelinos (Hall of Gobelins) at Chapultepec Castle

Gazing back at us from the walls were full-length portraits of Maximiliano and Carlota by German painter Albert Gräfe, alongside those of Napoleon III and his wife, Eugénie de Montijo. In the center of the room stood two grand pianos — one French, the other English — which Maximilian and Charlotte once played.

The curving Grand Staircase with red runner and a seating nook at Chapultepec Castle

The spiral staircase adjacent to the elevator was designed by architect Antonio Rivas Mercado. He contributed to the castle’s neoclassical design, transforming it into a grand structure suitable for use as a presidential residence and a venue for official events. Mercado’s influence extended beyond architecture, though; while serving as director of the Academy of San Carlos from 1903 to 1912, he was responsible for granting the scholarship that enabled Diego Rivera to study in Europe for several years. 

The light blue Recámara de Carlota (Charlotte’s Bedroom) at Chapultepec Castle

The brass bed in Carlota’s bedroom displays the coat of arms of Maximilian’s empire.

Recámara y Baño de Carlota (Charlotte’s Bedroom and Bathroom)

The Recámara de Carlota (Charlotte’s Bedroom) was the first in a suite of three rooms once used by the empress herself. Decorated in blue and gold, it features Boulle-style furniture, characterized by intricate inlays of tortoiseshell and brass. At the center stood a brass bed, its headboard topped by an oval medallion featuring the coat of arms of the Second Mexican Empire — an eagle and a snake, flanked by two griffins — while the footboard bears the imperial monogram “MIM” for Maximiliano I de Mexico. 

Next to the bedroom was the Baño de Carlota, or Charlotte’s Bathroom, where we saw the massive freestanding marble bathtub commissioned by Maximilian for Charlotte. Hewn from a single block of stone, it was produced by the Fratelli Tangassi workshop, an Italian family of alabaster artisans from Volterra, and exported to the castle at great expense. Standing before it, I could only imagine how much water it must have taken to fill.

A marble bathtub and floral tiles in Charlotte's bathroom at Chapultepec Castle

Behind the tub, tiles imported from China were delicately painted with peonies and cherry blossoms. 

Sala de Estar Carlota (Charlotte’s Sitting Room) at Chapultepec Castle

Charlotte’s sitting room reflected her devout faith, with a rare bust of the Virgin Mary under glass and one of the earliest known images of Our Lady of Guadalupe in the castle’s collection.

Sala de Estar Carlota (Charlotte’s Sitting Room)

Beyond the bathroom was the Sala de Estar Carlota (Charlotte’s Sitting Room). 

As a deeply devout Catholic, she saw her role in Mexico as part of a divine mission, her religious devotion merging with a growing sense of connection to her adopted country. The room reflected her spirituality, with a bust of the Virgin Mary under a glass cloche, a painting of St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, and a small painting of the Virgin of Guadalupe, a powerful national and religious symbol in Mexico.

Salón de Acuerdos (Meeting Room) at Chapultepec Castle

With a green velvet tabletop and portraits of past leaders, the Salón de Acuerdos served as a formal space for cabinet discussions after the castle became the president’s official residence.

Salón de Acuerdos (Meeting Room)

Once Chapultepec Castle became the official presidential residence, there was a need for a dedicated space to receive cabinet members, and that’s where the Salón de Acuerdos (Meeting Room) comes in. Designed in the early 20th century, the green velvet tabletops and portraits of past leaders lining the walls make the room feel very presidential. Among those displayed are Presidents Francesco Madero, Álvaro Obregón, Emilio Portes Gil, Pascual Ortiz Rubio and Lázaro Cardenas.

The fountain in the Patio del Chapulín (Courtyard of the Grasshopper) at Chapultepec Castle

The bronze grasshopper atop the Fuente del Chapulín was sculpted by Luis Albarrán y Pilego and installed in 1924.

Patio del Chapulín (Courtyard of the Grasshopper)

Before climbing to the second floor, we took a moment to explore the Patio del Chapulín (Courtyard of the Grasshopper). Framed by manicured hedges and anchored by the Fuente del Chapulín (Grasshopper Fountain), the courtyard opens onto a balcony terrace with breathtaking views of Mexico City below. 

Statues dedicated to the Niños Héroes stand atop the balustrade at the edge of the Patio del Chapulín at Chapultepec Castle

Six statues dedicated to the Niños Héroes stand atop the balustrade at the edge of the Patio del Chapulín.

Standing atop the terrace balustrade are six statues of the Niños Héroes, created in 1942 by artist Armando Quezada Medrano. They depict the young military cadets who died defending Mexico during the Battle of Chapultepec on September 13, 1847, during the Mexican–American War. Note that these figures are separate from the Altar a la Patria (Altar to the Homeland) monument, also located in Chapultepec Park, although both honor the same brave cadets.

The sweeping Escalera de Leones (Lion’s Staircase) links the first floor to the terraced gardens above. Its steps, carved from Carrara marble, are flanked at the base by two marble lions modeled after Antonio Canova’s monumental mausoleum for Pope Clement XIII in St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican. One rests peacefully, while the other stands watchful and alert. 

Marble lion with a statue of a naked woman behind it by a staircase in Chapultepec Castle
A man walks up the Escalera de Leones at Chapultepec Castle

The Escalera de Leones leads to the rooftop gardens and includes stained glass windows installed during the presidency of Venustiano Carranza.

At the top of the staircase, stained glass windows installed during the presidency of Venustiano Carranza (1859–1920) protect the stairwell from the elements. Their designs feature floral and vegetal patterns inspired by the Mexican landscape. One window depicts the glyph of a chapulín (a grasshopper, running with the theme), perched on a hill with flowing water beneath it. The other showcases the Mexican coat of arms. 

The observatory tower in the rooftop gardens at Chapultepec Castle

Above the treetops, the Tall Knight keeps watch — first as a military tower, then as Mexico’s gaze turned skyward in 1877, becoming a short-lived but advanced observatory.

Rooftop Gardens

Just beyond are the rooftop gardens designed by Austrian botanist Wilhelm Knechtel during the reign of Emperor Maximilian. At its center stands a tower called the Caballero Alto (Tall Knight), surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges and classical statues. This structure, built around 1842 as part of the Military College, was briefly repurposed in 1877 as an astronomical observatory, complete with meteorological instruments considered cutting-edge for the time.

A fountain in the rooftop gardens at Chapultepec Castle in CDMX

Designed in the 1860s by Austrian botanist Wilhelm Knechtel, these rooftop gardens were part of Maximilian’s vision to bring European elegance to Chapultepec Castle.

Adorning the walls of the elevated garden are colorful frescoes of bacchantes — female followers of Bacchus, the Roman god of wine. Painted in the Pompeian style, these works were created by Santiago Rebull, the court painter of Maximilian and one of the few individuals close to the monarchy who managed to remain in Mexico and even thrive in the subsequent decades under the Republic. He completed four of the figures between 1865 and 1866 during Maximilian’s reign, and nearly three decades later, painted the remaining two in 1894 under the Díaz administration.

A breast falls out of a dress in a fresco of a bacchante in the rooftop gardens of Chapultepec Castle

Nip slip! The bacchae depicted on the walls of the upper terrace were painted by Santiago Rebull in the Neoclassical style, inspired by the 18th century rediscovery of the ancient ruins at Pompeii and Herculaneum.

The day Wally and I visited, an orchestra and a vocalist were rehearsing an aria beneath the terrace pavilion.


Díaz and Chapultepec Castle

During his extended rule as president, Díaz was determined to position Mexico as a modern, forward-thinking nation, and the castle became part of that vision. Under his direction, Chapultepec Castle saw some major upgrades, including the installation of its very first elevator in 1900. It connected the basement, main floor and rooftop, and at the time, it was cutting-edge. In fact, the castle was one of the first buildings in all of Mexico to be outfitted with electricity.

The bedroom of Porfirio Díaz at the Alcázar of Chapultepec in CDMX

Díaz’s bedroom was appointed in French style with Louis XVI furniture.

Recámara de Porfirio Díaz (Bedroom of Porfirio Díaz)

Inside, the Recámara de Porfirio Díaz (Bedroom of Porfirio Díaz) reflects a refined French taste. Though not as lavish as Charlotte’s quarters downstairs, it still impresses with its Louis XVI furnishings: a stately mahogany bed and a pair of cream-colored slipper chairs with scrolled backs and elegant fringe.

The Galería de Emplomados lined with stained glass windows

The Galería de Emplomados is lined with stained glass windows created by the French firm Champigneulle Fils, and were installed in 1901.

Galería de Emplomados (Stained Glass Gallery)

Beyond Díaz’s bedroom is the Galería de Emplomados (Stained Glass Gallery). Installed in 1901, the grand corridor features five stained glass windows crafted by the renowned French firm Champigneulle Fils, celebrated for their work in churches, palaces, and civic buildings across Europe and Latin America. Spanning nearly 800 square feet, the windows cover half the length and height of the Alcázar’s eastern elevation. Each depicts a nature goddess: Pomona (goddess of fruits), Flora (goddess of flowers), Hebe (bearer of divine nectar and grantor of eternal youth), Diana (goddess of the hunt), and Ceres (goddess of agriculture). 

It would have been the perfect photo op — if not for one particularly self-important visitor, who had commandeered the gallery, barking orders at her poor friend and critiquing every shot like she was Anna Wintour on a Vogue editorial shoot.

The Salón de Embajadores (Hall of Ambassadors) with a glowing chandelier at Chapultepec Castle

The Salón de Embajadores features furniture in the Louis XVI style and plaster painted to look like marble.

Salón de Embajadores (Hall of Ambassadors)

The final Díaz-period room we peered into was the Salón de Embajadores (Hall of Ambassadors) a French-inspired room where Díaz met with diplomats to discuss international relations. Originally Charlotte’s study, the room was repurposed by Díaz as Mexico gained prominence on the world stage, and the castle became a key venue for hosting foreign dignitaries. 

Designer Epitacio Calvo incorporated Baroque and French Neoclassical styles into the room’s furnishings. 

A walkway beyond hedges in the rooftop garden of Chapultepec Castle

Plan Your Visit 

The weather couldn’t have been better for our visit to this incredible landmark. We spent hours exploring its magnificent halls, grand stairways and stunning rooms, not to mention the breathtaking views from the top of Chapultepec Hill. If you’re in Mexico City, this place is an absolute must-see.

Hours:

  • Monday: Closed

  • Tuesday–Sunday: 9 a.m.–5 p.m. (Note: The museum begins clearing rooms at 4:45 p.m.)

Admission:

  • 100 MXN (about $5.50)

  • Free every day for children under 13, seniors 60+, students, teachers, pensioners/retirees, and visitors with disabilities with valid ID

  • Free on Sundays for Mexican nationals and residents

Ticket Purchase:

  • Tickets are sold at the bottom of the hill before the ramp — there aren’t ticket booths at the castle entrance.

  • You can buy your tickets online as well.

Accessibility:

  • The castle offers ramps, elevators and loaner wheelchairs.

  • Visitors with disabilities or those seeking adapted educational tours can arrange assistance by emailing difusion.mnh@inah.gob.mx.

Food & Drink:

  • Food and beverages aren’t permitted inside the castle. You must leave these in a locker at the bottom of the hill. Plan to eat and hydrate before or after your visit.

Two statues of the young military cadets known as the Niños Heroes at Chapultepec Castle

Chapultepec Castle

Primera Sección del Bosque de Chapultepec s/n 
San Miguel Chapultepec
Mexico City 11580
Mexico

72 Hours in Miami: A Sun-Soaked Escape Done Right

From cafecito in Little Havana to sunset strolls on South Beach, this three-day Miami itinerary covers Wynwood, Biscayne Bay, Coconut Grove and more.

The Miami skyline at night

There’s something about Miami that makes you feel like the main character. Maybe it’s the ocean breeze that hits just right, or the way the sunlight bounces off pastel buildings and into your soul. Whatever it is, it only took one weekend to realize I’d be coming back — and doing it right from the jump.

This is how I made the most of 72 hours in Miami. No fluff, no tourist traps — just beaches, bites and a few well-earned naps.

Two of the Art Deco hotels in South Beach, Miami, Florida, one with blue neon, the other red

Day 1: Landing, Rolling and Recharging

We landed late morning, bleary-eyed but buzzing. Instead of standing in line for rideshares or fumbling with apps, I’d pre-booked a rental — best move I made all trip. Cheap car rental services in Miami aren’t just affordable, they’re freedom on four wheels. Within 30 minutes, we were driving down Collins Ave with the windows down and reggae on the speakers.

The sign of Versailles Restaurant, serving Cuban cuisine, in Little Havana, Miami, Florida

First stop: Versailles Restaurant in Little Havana for a welcome-to-Miami cafecito and some ropa vieja. That hit different after a travel day. The elderly Cuban men playing dominoes outside felt like a scene from a movie, their animated conversations punctuating the afternoon heat.

We checked into a boutique hotel in South Beach, dropped our bags, and wandered the Art Deco district until sundown — neon reflections dancing off wet sidewalks after a surprise storm. The pastel buildings looked like candy in the golden hour light. Then: mojitos, shrimp tacos, and live music at a tucked-away bar that felt more Havana than Florida. The bassist had this infectious energy that had everyone swaying by the second set.

A person stands on a rocky promontory watching the sunrise over the ocean in Miami, Florida

Day 2: Sunrise, Sand and Spontaneity

I woke up early, restless in the best way. Threw on shorts, grabbed a pastelito from a corner café, and hit the sand solo while the city still slept. Watching the sun rise over the Atlantic in Miami is like pressing reset on your nervous system. The beach was empty, except for a few joggers and early fishermen casting their lines into the pink-tinged waves.

Three women walk past colorful murals in Wynwood in Miami, Florida

Later, we drove across the causeway to Wynwood — all murals and matcha. There’s a spot called Panther Coffee that became our HQ for a couple hours before we strolled into local shops and stumbled into a pop-up vinyl fair. Street artists were working on fresh pieces, and the smell of spray paint mixed with the aroma of Cuban coffee created this uniquely Miami sensory cocktail.

An aerial view of Key Biscayne, filled with motorboats, with Miami's skyline in the distance

Because we had the car, we made an impulsive drive down to Key Biscayne. I swear, 30 minutes out of downtown and you feel like you’re on a completely different planet: mangroves, stillness — the kind of quiet that recalibrates you. We spent an hour just walking barefoot along Crandon Park Beach, collecting shells and watching pelicans dive for fish.

A couple of people eat at Greenstreet Cafe in Coconut Grove, Miami, under an ivy-covered peak

Day 3: Brunch, Beaches and One Last Lap

We kicked off our final day with brunch at Greenstreet Café in Coconut Grove. Miami brunch hits different when you’ve got nowhere to be — no timelines, just good food and a table in the shade. The eggs Benedict was perfect, but honestly, it was the people-watching that made the meal memorable — locals walking their dogs, families speaking three languages at once, that effortless Miami energy everywhere.

Powerboats line the canal at Bal Harbour near Miami, with hotels and skyscrapers

Afterward, we took one last drive — just aimless, top 40 hits on shuffle, cruising up the coast past Bal Harbour. I wanted to stretch those final hours as far as they’d go. We stopped at a roadside stand for fresh coconut water, the vendor cracking it open with a machete right in front of us. These are the moments that make a trip unforgettable.

Returning the car was just as smooth as picking it up — no stress, no wasted time. Honestly, it’s one of the biggest travel hacks I’ve picked up lately. If you’re coming to Miami, skip the overpriced taxis and just grab a set of wheels. It’ll change how you experience the city.

People sit under palm trees on the water at a park in Miami, Florida

Miami Nice

Miami doesn’t ask you to do much. Just to show up, stay open, and let the rhythm of the place move through you. If you do it right, even a short trip can feel like a deep breath for your entire being. The city rewards spontaneity and punishes rigid itineraries, so leave room for magic to happen.

And if you’re wondering whether it’s worth renting a car down here? I’ll say this: Three days wasn’t enough. But with the freedom to move, we lived like locals, not visitors. We discovered hidden gems that no guidebook mentioned and created memories that’ll last long after the tan fades.

That’s the whole point. –Graham Waller


Setting a Timeline for Your UK Wedding: What to Plan and When

Planning a UK destination wedding? This month-by-month wedding timeline breaks down exactly what to do — from venues and vendors to visas and veils.

A bride and groom hold hands atop a windy cliffside in the UK, with a chapel up the hill

Let’s face it — planning a wedding can feel like juggling flaming torches while trying not to spill your prosecco. Add in the glorious chaos of a destination wedding in the UK, and you’re suddenly Googling “how to politely elope.” But take a breath. With a little organization and the right timeline, your British bash can be as magical as a Colin Firth rom-com.

Here’s your month-by-month guide to pulling off a UK wedding that’s as smooth as clotted cream.

A gay couple in period dress toast champagne at their wedding at a castle in the UK

12–18 Months Before: Book It Like Beckham

If your engagement is longer than waiting for a new season of Bridgerton, congrats — you’ve got time to breathe. But not too deeply, because your venue? It’s already halfway booked up by couples named Pippa and Giles. Top UK venues fill up fast — we’re talking two years in advance — so don’t dawdle.

Before you get lost in the Pinterest black hole of table décor, lock down your guest count and budget. (Yes, even your third cousin’s new boyfriend who won’t stop talking about his pet rats might need a seat.)

The average cost of a wedding venue in the UK will run you £9,000–£11,000 ($12,200–$14,900), and that’s before you’ve added a single sausage roll.

If you’re hiring a planner, bring them on now. This is your co-captain for the chaos. Choose wisely.

A bride and groom dance while guest circle them at a Bridgerton-themed wedding

9–12 Months Before: Lights, Camera, Catering

You’ve got a venue. You’ve got a date. You’re practically Kate and Wills. Now it’s time to book your VIPs: the caterer (pies or posh?), photographer (editorial or soft focus?), and entertainment (string quartet or DJ who refuses to play “Wonderwall”).

This is also dress/suit time, especially if you’re going bespoke or need major alterations. Same goes for glam — book your hair and makeup artists now, before they’re swept away by another bride who planned everything six years ago.

And please — make a wedding website. Especially for a UK wedding, where guests may need to navigate train timetables, weird voltage plugs, and the eternal mystery of what “half board” means. Include local hotels, transportation options, and even a pub recommendation or two.

At a wedding cake tasting, a woman puts frosting on a man's nose while both laugh

6–9 Months Before: Cake It ’Til You Make It

Now we’re in the fun zone. Cake tastings, flower choices, table décor — all the frilly bits that make your day feel like you.

If you can swing a planning trip to the UK, do it now. You’ll get to sniff the blooms, taste the cake, and remember that your wedding is happening in a real, actual place and not just a shared Google doc.

Also: honeymoon planning time! Whether you’re heading straight to the Cotswolds for a cozy fireside escape or hitting up Edinburgh for whisky-fueled romance, start mapping it out. There are so many beautiful places to explore in the UK that are just a train ride away.

A lesbian couple finalize their wedding seating chart, while a cat sleeps nearby

The Final 6 Months: Legal Stuff and Last Touches

Planning to legally marry in the UK? If you’re not a British citizen, you’ll need a marriage visa — and no, it doesn’t come gift-wrapped. Apply for a marriage visa exactly three months before your wedding. You can’t do it earlier, and processing can take up to three weeks, so time it right.

Beyond bureaucracy, this is final-touch time:

  • Confirm the seating chart (yes, Uncle Barry is still coming)

  • Break in your wedding shoes (or suffer the hobble of regret)

  • Get the rings cleaned

  • Make a packing list

  • Panic briefly, then remember: You’ve got this

A bride and groom hold hands and face each other by a stained glass window

Tie the Knot in the UK

From misty moors to manor houses, cliffside chapels to converted cinemas, the UK has a venue for every vibe — and a wedding industry that knows its stuff. Whether you’re dreaming of kilts, castles, or a seaside knees-up with fish and chips, your British wedding can be anything but basic.

So here’s to love, as well as legal paperwork and logistics. You bring the vision. The UK has plenty to make your dreams a reality. –Melanie Huff

What Solo Travelers Secretly Love About Group Travel

From flexible structure to emotional backup, here’s why the solo set is giving group trips a second look.

A group of travelers in a Jeep on an African safari, with one looking through binoculars, another is holding a lizard, with a monkey on his backpack, and one frightened while taking a picture, with giraffes and a lion

There’s something undeniably satisfying about crafting your own itinerary, eating when you want, and never compromising on which waterfall or street food stall to visit. 

But let’s be honest: While solo travel has its perks, it’s not always sunshine and Instagram-worthy sunsets. Sometimes, you crave a little structure, a spontaneous laugh with someone who gets it, or just someone else to help navigate the chaotic train station.

You can still explore the world on your own terms — but with the bonus of shared stories, unexpected friendships and fewer awkward selfies.

That’s where group travel comes in — and not the old-school, flag-waving, follow-the-leader kind. Today, there are new ways of traveling that blend independence with meaningful connection. You can still explore the world on your own terms — but with the bonus of shared stories, unexpected friendships and fewer awkward selfies.

People enjoy the warm water of the Blue Lagoon in Iceland, including a bearded man with tattoos

Even Lone Wolves Like a Pack (Sometimes)

You’re the kind of person who books one-way tickets. Who happily eats solo at a buzzing night market, and finds joy in being the mysterious figure on the night bus. There’s power in that kind of freedom — in choosing your own rhythm, without compromise.

But confession time: Sometimes you find yourself tempted by the idea of a group trip. Not the awkward, name-tag-wearing kind, but something different — something that doesn’t scream “tourist,” yet still gives you the perks of not doing everything alone.

There are group travel options designed for solo travelers who value their independence but also enjoy human connection. Some even group travelers by age, so the people you meet are likely in the same stage of life — ready to co-create the kind of story you’ll still be telling (loudly and proudly) years from now.

It’s all about balance: enough structure to keep things flowing, enough freedom to make it feel like yours. The right group trip doesn’t take away your solo identity — it enhances it. With richer conversations, less isolation and group photos you’ll actually want to keep. 

So what makes group travel so unexpectedly appealing — even to the most fiercely independent travelers? Let’s break it down.

A group of travelers crowd around a table at a restaurant in Japan

Why Solo Travelers Do Group Travel (Once in a While) 

1. Independence, reimagined

Traveling alone is all about freedom, doing what you want, when you want. But who says being part of a group takes that away? One fanny pack-wearing group of tourists doesn’t define all groups. The right kind of group travel lets you keep your autonomy while adding just enough connection to make the journey richer. Being part of the right kind of group doesn’t mean independence has to go away. It just means you’re free to stay in the experience, choose how to show up and decide when it’s time to go it alone.

A group of travelers are mostly frustrated while kayaking in Croatia

2. Built-in “social battery” recharges

You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Traveling with a group means you can also enjoy the sound of silence when you feel like it. And it’s even better if you’re one of those travelers who prefer to go solo. Because let’s face it: You’re not always up for managing group dynamics, and the last thing you need on holiday is a schedule full of “compulsory fun.”

No, you prefer a real travel companion who won’t blink if you share dinner and then head off on your own for a sunset walk. That’s the sweet spot. The possibility of being able to make the most of a life-enriching experience within a small, reliable circle of people who share your same vibes: no strings attached, no pressure, no expectations — just the freedom to connect or disconnect as needed.

A group hikes through the American Southwest, with a woman offering a man her water bottle

3. Freedom within structure

The best group trips offer just enough structure to keep things flowing, but never feel rigid or overplanned. The kind where you can dip out of an excursion, take a detour, or spend an afternoon on your own without feeling like you’re breaking any rules.

That’s what makes certain group travel experiences so appealing to solo travellers — they keep your independence intact, while giving you the option to connect when it matters.

Some travel communities have found this balance — offering flexible itineraries, shared energy, and just enough freedom to feel like your own journey. One example? WeRoad, a community of travelers that groups people by age and lets you choose how much to engage, without ever feeling boxed in. Curious? Discover some group trips perfect for solo travelers.

4. The joy of shared firsts

The first time you eat durian. The first time you swim in glowing water. A powerful art exhibit. These things hit differently when you’re not the only one experiencing them. There’s a special kind of magic in the collective gasp, the shared laughter, or the look you exchange when something completely unexpected happens.

You can travel solo all you want — and it’s great — but some stories are simply better when there’s someone else to nod and say, “Yup, that really happened.”

5. Emotional backup when things go sideways

Missed planes, lost bags and violent food poisoning — vacations don’t always go exactly as planned. And in those moments, having a group by your side makes all the difference. Whether it’s someone offering their last electrolyte packet, helping you figure out a plan B, or just laughing with you when things get ridiculous — it’s these little human moments that turn travel fails into favorite stories.

Plus, when you’re traveling with people in a similar phase of life, it’s easier to feel seen, supported and genuinely understood — without needing to explain why you’re skipping the 6 a.m. hike in favor of sleeping in.

A group of travelers at a hostal: a man on a bunkbed, one in a towel holding cords, one writing in a journal, and two with souvenirs

You’re Still a Solo Traveler (Just Smarter Now)

You haven’t sold out by joining a group; you’ve upgraded. You’re still curious, independent and spontaneous — you just know when it’s okay to let someone else carry the snacks and make the dinner plans. 

Today, more and more solo travelers are choosing group trips that strike the right balance between freedom and connection. Experiences designed with flexibility, community and shared curiosity in mind — where you can explore the world on your own terms, but in good company. 

Whether it’s hiking in Morocco, eating your way through Japan or chasing sunsets in Tanzania, the beauty of this kind of travel is in the mix: meaningful moments on your own, and others you’ll want to share. –Tomasz Rezik

How to Celebrate Litha: A Wiccan Ritual, Traditions and the Magic of the Summer Solstice

Discover the meaning of Litha, the Wiccan sabbat that honors the summer solstice. Explore rituals, magical crafts, traditional foods, and ways to celebrate the longest day of the year with intention and sunlit joy.

The first rays of morning stretch across the sky like golden fingers, warming the dewy grass and painting the treetops in fire. Birds are already busy in the hedgerows, bees hum like a chant in the fields, and somewhere in the distance, a barefoot figure turns their face to the sky.

It’s the longest day of the year — the sun’s triumphant moment. Everything is blooming, buzzing, bursting with life. The air feels thick with enchantment. If you listen closely, you might even hear laughter just beyond the veil — the kind that flickers at the edge of dreams. Midsummer is here, and with it, Litha — the sun’s high holiday, a time to celebrate light, strength, and the sweet fullness of the season.

Whether you rise with the dawn or dance beneath the stars, this is a moment to honor your power, your path, and the magic of being alive in the height of summer.

The Origins and Meaning of Litha

Litha (pronounced Lee-tha or sometimes Lit-ah, depending on tradition) marks the summer solstice — the longest day and shortest night of the year. It falls around June 20 and 21 in the Northern Hemisphere, when the sun reaches its highest point in the sky.

For Wiccans and many modern pagans, Litha is the solar climax of the Wheel of the Year — a fiery, golden celebration of growth, joy, abundance and light. It’s a time to revel in nature’s bounty, to celebrate all that has blossomed since spring, and to honor the turning point as the days now begin, slowly, to shorten.

It follows Beltane, the fiery celebration of fertility and union, and comes before Lughnasadh (or Lammas), the first harvest festival. While Imbolc and Ostara sparked the light, and Beltane ignited passion, Litha is the sun in full blaze — a moment to honor life at its fullest, just before the wheel turns toward the waning half of the year. Like Mabon and Yule, its power lies in transition — and in the magic of balance shifting.

As such, Litha invites reflection as well as revelry — a pause in the sunlight to take stock of what you’ve grown, and where you’re headed.

Historically, midsummer festivals were marked with bonfires, dancing, and rituals to protect crops, cattle and communities. In Norse tradition, blazing wheels were rolled down hills to mimic the sun’s path. In ancient Rome, festivals for Juno and Vesta aligned with the solstice, while in Slavic countries, it was a time of fertility rites and water magic.

Every culture that watched the sun’s rise knew this moment mattered. And it still does.

Myths and Folklore of Midsummer Magic

Long before clocks and calendars, our ancestors watched the skies. They knew when the sun lingered a little longer, when shadows shrank and golden light stretched into the evening. And on that brightest day, they told stories — of gods who set the sky ablaze, of faeries who danced through ferns, of fires lit to keep chaos at bay.

One of the most enduring myths of the solstice is that epic battle between the Oak King and the Holly King — twin aspects of the Horned God. At Yule, the Oak King is born, gaining strength as the days lengthen. At Litha, he reaches his peak — and then falls in ritual battle to the Holly King, who rules the waning year. It’s a beautiful allegory of the natural cycle: Even at the height of power, change is inevitable. Even in light, shadow waits.

Elsewhere, the solstice shines with the brilliance of deities:

  • Lugh, the Celtic god of the sun and many skills, whose name means “Light.” Though more often honored at Lughnasadh, his energy pulses through Litha’s creative fire.

  • Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess, who once hid herself away in a cave, plunging the world into darkness — until the laughter of the gods lured her out, restoring light.

  • Ra, the Egyptian sun god, who sails across the sky each day in his solar barque, battling the chaos serpent Apep each night to rise again.

  • Apollo, golden-haired and lyre-strumming, who, in some tellings, carries the sun in his chariot, and lights the world with prophecy, music and flame.

And then there are the tales of midsummer Fae — the Good Folk who slip more easily between worlds on nights like these. In Celtic and Germanic folklore, Midsummer’s Eve was a time of enchantment, when doors opened between realms. People wove flower crowns to protect themselves, gathered St. John’s wort to banish spirits, and placed iron charms at thresholds to keep mischief out. But some sought the fairies, laying out milk and honey and dancing under the moon in hopes of catching a glimpse of their revels.

Even Shakespeare knew the magic of this night. A Midsummer Night’s Dream — with its mix of love, trickery and wild enchantment — captures the sense that on this night, anything might happen.

So if the air feels thick with possibility… if a shadow in the trees lingers longer than it should… you’re not imagining it. Midsummer is a time of stories — and you’re living in one.

Traditions of Litha

Litha traditions shimmer with light: fire, flowers, golden feasts, and the joy of long, lingering days. At the heart of it all is a sense of celebration: The Earth is alive, generous and radiant. And you’re invited to join the dance.

Across centuries and cultures, solstice traditions share one common thread: light triumphing over darkness, even if only for a moment. People built bonfires to mimic the sun, leapt through flames for luck and fertility, and crafted garlands and charms to honor nature in full bloom.

Here are some of the most common — and magical — ways to honor Litha:

Sunrise and Sunset Vigils

Start your celebration with intention: Rise with the sun, and greet it as it crests the horizon. Some Wiccans stay up through the night to watch it rise; others pause at noon to feel the day’s full power. As the sun sets, light candles or a small fire to carry the energy into the evening.

Bonfires and Solar Flames

Traditionally, solstice fires were lit on hilltops to honor the sun and strengthen crops. Today, lighting a candle, firepit or even a flame in your heart can serve the same purpose — a symbol of your inner fire and the light you carry forward.

Floral Crowns and Herb Bundles

Wear the season on your head — quite literally — by weaving flower crowns from midsummer blooms: sunflowers, daisies, chamomile, roses. Bundle herbs like St. John’s wort, rosemary and lavender for protection and clarity. Hang them by your door or burn them as offerings.

Rolling Sun Wheels

In some traditions, wooden wheels were set ablaze and rolled down hills to represent the sun’s journey. You don’t need to torch your garden cart, but making a sun wheel from grapevine or craft supplies and hanging it on your door brings the symbolism home.

Symbols and Correspondences of Litha

Colors:

  • Gold, yellow, orange for the sun and fire

  • Green for growth and abundance

  • Red for passion and vitality

Crystals:

  • Sunstone boosts confidence and leadership

  • Citrine for joy, abundance, and energy

  • Carnelian fires up creativity and motivation

  • Amber links to ancient sunlight and protective energy

Herbs and Plants:

  • St. John’s wort to ward off negativity

  • Chamomile brings peace and clarity

  • Rosemary for memory, cleansing

  • Lavender provides calm and spiritual connection

  • Oak leaves and acorns, sacred to the Oak King

Animals:

  • Bees represent industrious joy and sweet results

  • Stags for strength and the wild, sacred masculine spirit

  • Songbirds symbolize communication and delight

  • Dragons for the fire of transformation and protection

When you’re surrounded by sunflowers and the air hums with bees, it’s easy to understand why our ancestors paused to celebrate. Litha reminds us to honor our own light, too — to revel in what we’ve grown, and to shine brightly while we can.

A Litha Ritual to Ignite Your Inner Fire

Whether you’re practicing alone or with your coven, Litha calls for something joyful, golden and alive. This isn’t the time for subtlety — it’s the sun’s main act. So light a flame, crown your head in flowers, and step into your strength. Midsummer has long been considered one of the most powerful times of the year for magic. 

Below is a ritual designed to help you align with midsummer’s powerful energy. It culminates in a spell crafted to awaken your personal power and confidence — to help you shine as brightly as the solstice sun.

Before You Begin

Choose a time near sunrise, noon or sunset. A backyard, balcony or sunny window is ideal. Dress in sun-kissed colors (yellows, reds, golds and greens). Optional: Wear a floral crown, sun charm, or something that makes you feel radiant.

What You’ll Need

  • A yellow or gold candle (or a fire-safe bonfire or cauldron)

  • A fresh bay leaf (or oak leaf), and a gold or red pen

  • A bowl of water (preferably rainwater or spring water)

  • A small mirror

  • Any altar decorations you like — sunflowers, herbs, crystals, seasonal fruit or a solar deity image

Step 1: Prepare your altar and cast the circle.  

Arrange your altar in the center of your space. Add symbols of the season: a sunflower in a jar, a handful of cherries, a sprig of rosemary. Light your candle and say:

Brightest day and golden flame,
I call the sun by sacred name.
With fire and fruit, with song and cheer,
Litha’s light, be with me here.

Cast your magic circle as you normally do, walking clockwise and calling on the elements. Emphasize fire and air, the season’s dominant energies.

Step 2: Call on the sun and the self.

Face the sun (or your candle flame) and speak:

Great Sun, high above, I honor your strength.
You blaze at your peak, and so do I.
Shine through me — may your light awaken what I already carry.
Take a deep breath and feel that light fill your chest.

Step 3: Cast a spell of solar strength. 

Take your bay leaf. With your gold pen, write one word that represents the strength you wish to step into now:

Confidence. Boldness. Courage. Radiance. Truth.

Hold the leaf in both hands. Focus on it — not just the word, but what it would feel like to live it. Speak this chant:

Sun above and fire below,
Grant me strength to rise and glow.
Let fear fall off, let doubt grow dim,
My inner light outshines the grim.

If you’re using a mirror, hold the leaf to your heart and look yourself in the eye. Say:

This is the truth I now reveal—
I am whole, and I am real.

Then, drop the leaf into the bowl of water. Imagine that as the leaf moves, your power rises. The strength you called is already yours.

Finish with:

With sun’s embrace and sky’s wide dome,
My power stirs and finds its home.

Step 4: Close the circle and celebrate. 

Thank the elements and release your circle. Let the candle burn out safely or snuff it with intention.

Dispose of the leaf respectfully — bury it beneath a blooming plant, compost it, or pour the water into the soil. If you used a mirror, keep it on your altar for a few days as a reminder of the light you claimed.

Then eat something delicious. Dance barefoot. Watch the sunset. You just honored the height of the sun — and the fire inside you.

Feasting With the Sun: Foods of Litha

What better way to celebrate the fullness of life than with a feast bursting with summer’s brightest flavors? Litha is a festival of abundance — a time to honor the Earth’s generosity and the energy that ripens every fruit, herb and grain. Whether you’re throwing a solstice picnic or preparing a quiet sunlit brunch, let your table reflect the richness of the season.

Seasonal Staples

Litha food is sun food: golden, juicy, herbaceous and joyful.

Fruits:

  • Cherries, strawberries, blueberries, peaches — served fresh or baked into hand pies

  • Lemons and oranges for lemonade, tartlets or citrus-glazed cakes

Herbs:

  • Rosemary, basil, mint, lavender, thyme tossed into salads, folded into doughs, infused in syrups

  • St. John’s wort (not to ingest, but nice as a tea blend or altar offering)

Savory ideas:

  • Herbed flatbreads or focaccia with edible flowers

  • Grilled corn brushed with butter and smoked paprika

  • Honey-glazed chicken or lemon-rosemary roasted vegetables

  • Fresh greens with berries, goat cheese and sunflower seeds

Sweet treats:

  • Honey drizzled over everything, from toast to berries to cornbread

  • Sun cakes (round golden cakes flavored with honey or citrus)

  • Lavender shortbread cookies

  • Honey mead, lemonade or herbal sun tea brewed in a jar outside

Simple Recipe: Honey & Lavender Lemonade

You’ll need:

  • 1 cup fresh lemon juice

  • 3 to 4 tablespoons honey (to taste)

  • 2 teaspoons dried lavender

  • 4 cups water

Instructions:

1. In a small saucepan, heat 1 cup of water with the lavender and honey until the honey dissolves.

2. Let steep 10 to 15 minutes, then strain.

3. Mix the lavender-honey water with lemon juice and the remaining water. Chill and serve over ice with a sprig of mint or slice of lemon.

Bonus points if you brew this under the sun and stir it with intention.

Whether you eat alone, with loved ones, or leave an offering outside for the Fae, the act of feasting at Litha is a sacred one. That nourishment can be a spell in itself. That gratitude tastes best when shared.

Crafts and Offerings for the Solstice

At Litha, your hands can become an altar. Whether you’re weaving flowers, tying charms, or placing honey cakes in the garden, crafting is a form of spellwork — one that honors both the season and your own creative fire.

These are not just pretty pastimes. They’re echoes of ancient practices — ways to connect with the Earth, the sun and the unseen.

Make a sun wheel. 

This classic midsummer craft channels the ancient tradition of burning sun wheels rolled down hills. You can make a simple one from grapevine, willow branches or even embroidery hoops.

Decorate it with ribbons in gold, orange and red. Add sprigs of rosemary, wheat stalks or little sun charms. Hang it on your front door or above your altar as a symbol of light and strength.

Weave a flower crown. 

A floral crown is more than just a boho accessory — it’s a living halo. In old midsummer traditions, people wore garlands to protect against Fae mischief or attract blessings.

Use whatever blooms are local and seasonal — daisies, clover, lavender, marigolds, even wild herbs. As you weave each stem, speak a word of intention or blessing: joy, courage, abundance, love. Then wear your creation during your ritual or feast.

Create a fairy offering. 

Midsummer’s Eve is said to be one of the Fae’s favorite nights. If you’d like to stay on their good side (or invite a bit of their magic), prepare a small offering.

Ideas include:

  • A thimble of honey or mead

  • A slice of bread with butter and herbs

  • Wildflowers tied with twine

  • A shiny stone or tiny bell

Leave your offering at the base of a tree, beneath a fern, or on your windowsill. Whisper a wish as you walk away — and don’t look back.

Craft a solar sachet. 

Gather herbs associated with the sun — such as rosemary, chamomile, calendula and St. John’s wort — and tie them up in a yellow or gold cloth.

Hold it in your hands and say:

Sun in sky and fire in me,
Let this charm bring strength to be.

Keep it near your bed, your altar, or in your bag when you need a boost of solar energy.

These crafts may seem small — but they’re woven with meaning, intention and magic. And that’s the heart of Litha: turning sunlight into something sacred.

What Litha Teaches Us

Litha is a celebration of light — not just the kind that bathes the Earth in gold, but the kind that flickers in your chest when you laugh too hard, take a bold leap, or finally speak your truth out loud.

At the solstice, the sun stands still. Just for a breath. A golden pause between the rising and the falling. That stillness is a gift — an invitation to ask: What have I grown? What am I proud of? What do I carry forward into the next season of my life?

Because, after Litha, the light begins to wane. The wheel turns. The days shorten, slowly at first. So this moment — this fire-bright, blossom-heavy, bee-laced moment — is fleeting. And that’s what makes it sacred.

So wear the crown. Light the fire. Chant your name to the sky. Share the honeyed bread. Leave a gift for the Fae. And let yourself feel it all — the joy, the courage, the wild magic humming in your bones.

Because you, too, are made of sunlight.

And you were always meant to shine. –Wally

Curses & Consequences: What I Learned at a Black Magic Class

A curse class at Malliway Bros. in Chicago uncovers the truth about jinxes, hexes and curses, intent, consequences and protection. The dark arts, debunked.

Most people shy away from the idea of curses. We like to believe magic is all love, light and lavender-scented moon rituals. But what about the other side of the craft? The part that deals with justice, consequences and — let’s be honest — sometimes just good old-fashioned spite?

That’s why I found myself at Malliway Bros., a truly magical occult shop in Chicago’s Rogers Park neighborhood, sitting in a dimly lit room, about to learn the art of cursing. Not to throw hexes around willy-nilly, but to understand them. Because, as it turns out, curses aren’t always what we think they are.

Dark magic isn’t inherently evil, but it’s messy.
You have to be prepared for the consequences.

What Is a Curse?

Before diving into the how, we had to unpack the what. First up: learning the difference between a curse, a hex and a jinx. 

Jinx: “Jinxes are thought of as the lowest level of dark magic,” according to Wycke, one of the store’s owners — a guy who most definitely has some Fae in his blood. “It’s usually mischievous and causes minor and short-lived inconveniences. Quick bad luck, stubbed toes and stained clothing are some of the most common offenders. These are usually not cast with true spite and are used instead for silly inconveniences or minor retaliations.”

Hex: “Hex comes from the German word Hexe or Hexen meaning “witch” and originally would have just meant a spell,” he continued. “Now hexes are thought of as more serious forms of ill-wishing. These are usually harmful spells meant to teach a lesson and will often be undone once that lesson is learned.”

Curse: “Curses are the most dire form of maleficium,” Wycke said. “They are long lasting and cause serious harm. A curse is not always meant to justify a wrong and will instead do harm just to meet its caster’s satisfaction.”

One thing that surprised me? Curses aren’t always evil. Some practitioners use them for protection, to bind harmful people, or as a magical last resort. One example: a justice curse designed to make sure a person’s wrongdoings catch up with them. Turns out there’s a lot of gray areas when it comes to black magic. 

The Ethics of Maleficium

Malliway’s curse class raised the questions, “Should you?” Because no spell exists in a vacuum.

We talked about the Threefold Law (the belief that whatever you send out returns threefold) and the Wiccan Rede: “An it harm none, do what ye will.” 

But not all witches follow these principles. Some believe in justified cursing, especially when mundane justice fails. Others think magical consequences work on their own — curse someone unfairly, and you might get slapped back by the universe.

The class debated this: Is it ever okay to curse? Someone argued that curses are just another form of protection. Another felt they should be a last resort. And then there was the question of intent vs. action: Does wanting harm make you just as guilty as acting on it? Or what if your spell hurts someone, even though that wasn’t what you had planned?

The Risks of Dark Magic

Here’s where things got intense. Cursing isn’t just about what you do to others — it’s about what you invite in. If you decide to dabble in the dark arts, watch out for these possible consequences. 

  • Backfire is real. Misplace your intent, and you might hit the wrong target (including yourself).

  • Magical residue exists. Ever walked into a place that felt heavy? Curses leave behind energy, and if you don’t cleanse properly, it lingers.

  • Protection is key. Every good curse caster knows how to shield themselves. There are wards, protective symbols and cleansing techniques to avoid unwanted spiritual side effects.

One big takeaway: Dark magic isn’t inherently evil, but it’s messy. You have to be prepared for the consequences.

RELATED: How to Protect Yourself From Black Magic

Breaking Curses

Of course, we didn’t just learn how to make curses — we also learned how to break them.

Methods included:

  • Unbinding spells to reverse the intention

  • Cleansing rituals (smoke, salt or a bath) to remove lingering effects

  • Mirror spells to reflect the curse back

Keep in mind, though, that countercurses don’t always work the way you’d think. Sometimes, the best way to break a curse is simply to stop believing in it, and inadvertently fueling it.

Warding: A Shield Against Harm

While Defense Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts played it up with wand-waving and faux Latin, real spells aren’t far off — they still demand intent, ritual tools and words that cut like poetry.

Here’s a simple warding spell designed to shield against residual harmful energies. 

1. Plant your feet firmly on the ground and focus on its sturdiness. Say:

Iron as the blade, silver as the glass,
None what harms shall come to pass.

2. Make an X with your fingers in front of you. Say:

Not from afar. 

3. Keep your fingers linked, cross your forearms over each other. Say:

Nor on my par. 

4. Place both hands on opposite shoulders and say:

And none within may come to spar.

Visualize three crosses forming across your body — hard as iron, reflective as silver — locking into place for protection.

A Sundry of Spite: Cursing Methods From Folklore

Cursing techniques have been passed down through history. Some are simple but potent, requiring no special tools beyond one’s own energy and intent:

  • Spitting on someone or their belongings is considered a powerful curse. Some call this “witch’s venom.”

  • The Evil Eye can be cast simply by glaring at someone with jealousy or ill intent. This can be accidental but is dangerous when done deliberately.

  • Doing things in reverse can symbolically “undo” a person — writing their name backward, walking around their home counterclockwise, or dismantling their work in reverse order.

  • Collecting a taglock (a piece of hair, clothing or personal item) ensures a magical link to the target.

  • Tricking a victim into accepting a curse bypasses protections. Disguising a curse as a gift or using cleverly worded phrases can sneak past magical defenses.

  • Corrupting property with vinegar, urine or poison can attach harmful energies.

  • Foot track magic works by casting spells on a person’s footprints, shoes or the ground they regularly walk on.

The Hex of the Red Hand

This elaborate curse is designed to force someone to face the consequences of their actions — branding them with guilt and shame.

You’ll need:

  • A piece of paper

  • Red and black ink pens

  • Eyebright

  • Crash site soil

  • A red candle

  • Pins

  • Red cloth

  • Burdock burrs

  • Stinging nettle

  • Courthouse soil

  • Wood squill

  • A bowl of saltwater

  • A cauldron

Steps:

1. Write the victim’s name in red ink at the center of a square piece of paper.

2. Use black ink to surround their name with written records of their wrongdoings.

3. Mix eyebright and crash site soil in a bowl, chanting:

I see you with an eye unblinking. 
I mark you with your lies unlinking.

4. Scatter the mixture over the name and add any taglocks you have of the victim.

5. Fold the paper into a parcel and seal it with red candle wax.

6. Pierce the parcel with a pin, saying:

I pierce this hand,
And lay the brand.
Red as my fury and red as the crime.

7. Place the parcel on red cloth and scatter it with stinging nettle, burrs, courthouse soil and wood squill.

8. Tie the cloth into a bundle and suspend it between a burning kettle and a bowl of saltwater, chanting:

Burrs of burdock, unrelenting,
Stinging nettle, still tormenting.
With soil, guilt upon your name,
Wood squill bows your head in shame.
Burn and rue, burn and rue,
Mark the hand that earns its due!

9. Dunk the bundle back and forth between the fire and the saltwater, repeating the final lines.

The bundle can be kept and fed with saltwater to extend the curse’s duration.

A Minor Swifting: Cleansing After a Curse

Once a curse is cast, residual energy can linger, and it’s wise to cleanse yourself to avoid unintended consequences. The class provided this simple swifting ritual to wash away unwanted magical influence.

1. Prepare a bowl of saltwater and dip your fingers into it.

2. Anoint your palms and say:

My left, my right, by these two hands. 

3. Anoint your throat and say:

My voice, my words, to where I stand.

4. Pass sage smoke over yourself while repeating:

Hekas, hekas, este, bebeloi.
All that is unclean, evil or impeding to my ways,
From here, depart, depart, depart and be gone.

So, Should You Curse?

I’ve always heard that casting dark magic means it comes back to you threefold. I’m not sure the math checks out — but I do believe that if you’re fueled by anger and vengeance, putting that kind of negativity into the world increases the chances of it finding its way back to you. Just as we cast spells to manifest something good, the same principle applies to curses.

Here’s the thing: Magic isn’t good or bad. It’s a tool. Like fire, it can warm your home … or burn it down.

This class didn’t turn me into a wrathful hex-slinger, but it did change how I see magic. Curses aren’t just about revenge; they’re about intent, justice and power. And whether you choose to use them or not, it’s better to understand them than to fear them.

So next time someone warns you about the dangers of the dark arts, just remember: The real danger isn’t knowing too much. It’s knowing too little. –Wally


Interested in delving deeper into the mystical arts?

Malliway Bros. offers a variety of events at their shop, including tarot round robins, educational sessions, rituals and spell-casting workshops. Whether you’re a seasoned practitioner or simply curious, there’s something for everyone.

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Malliway Bros. Magic & Witchcraft

1407 West Morse Avenue
Chicago, Illinois 60626
USA