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Courtney Miceli

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Woman of the Week: Alison Dalglish-Pottow

 

“Kindness reveals itself most authentically when people aren’t looking,” says Alison Dalglish-Pottow, and her latest venture lends a great deal of truth to this statement. Amidst the commotion of our modern world, which is often pumped with a daily dose of bad news, Alison has been crafting a movement of positivity. She calls it, Angel Love.

The idea was first conceived by Alison, her friend and co-founder, Mimi Wood, and their two adolescent daughters while sitting in a patisserie in East Toronto. As they sipped hot chocolate and munched on cupcakes in a sliver of wonderland, they chatted about the state of the world beyond these magical walls, where the weight of negativity seemed to be deepening its pull on society’s well-being. They picked apart this moment of joy, thinking of ways in which they could extend it to others and perhaps, even slightly, ripple its force across the globe. All they needed, they soon realized, was one special ingredient: kindness. And so, Angel Love was born.

Angel Love is an e-commerce platform that maintains a mission of “spreading kindness through wearable, shareable, charitable products.” Their online store sells custom clothing and accessories that are ethically-sourced, high-quality and made in Canada, often in collaboration with local artisans. Each line of product that Angel Love creates is launched in partnership with an international charity, which sees 10 percent of net sales donated towards their cause.

“It’s kind of like how people say you wear your heart on your sleeve. Well, now you’re wearing your kindness on your sleeve, quite literally,” Alison says. “We’d like to activate a megaphone around the concept of kindness through this movement.”

Their latest product line was created in alliance with Heartmob, an organization that stands up to cyberbullying, and includes custom hoodies, graphic tees and semi-precious stone jewelry that was specifically crafted with rose quartz and hematite to attract good energy and repel the bad. Partnering with charitable organizations, Angel Love hopes to create an ecosystem of positive living, ensuring all of their products are manufactured, sold and bought under the guiding light of compassion.

As the company’s CEO, Alison has dedicated herself wholly to this venture. Her innate love for helping others is most likely a trait passed down from her parents, whom she describes as genuinely good humans. Growing up, she witnessed the importance of generosity and spent years working with a slew of charities, creative organizations, and even running her own successful, and entirely digital art gallery, called FPI Gallery, which was designed to help market local artists in an increasingly online world. In 2001, she was awarded the Queen Elizabeth II Golden Jubilee Medal for her outstanding contributions to Canada.

Along with her Angel Love partners, Mimi Wood, who is also a Canadian realtor, and Jennifer Bassett, who runs a flourishing events company, Alison measures the success of this latest venture not by the number of products sold, but by the social impact the products have. “The products are a way of keeping our audience engaged,” she says. “But the movement is truly the lead in all of this.”

Alongside their custom products, Angel Love focuses on initiatives such as the #mankind Wall, which is a way to highlight “the good guys,” as Alison calls them, in a fairly female-centralized movement. “Why girls and women leading this? It’s not because men aren’t amazing too, and we try to provide that inclusive aspect for men with our #mankind campaign,” she says. “But we really wanted this to be a safe place for girls and women because really, girls and women are born, engrained from childhood and nurtured to be the leaders of emotional compassion and sensitivity.”

They also advocate for Angel Activism — the mere task of paying forward an act of kindness in the modern world — and are hoping to popularize this trend by translating their efforts to the digital world through a predominantly online presence and their unique brand hashtag, #WithKindness. “Why the words #WithKindness? Well, we lead with kindness, we click with kindness, we can eat with kindness, meditate with kindness, help with kindness — there are so many ways that you can live and function with kindness … The possibilities are truly endless.”

And Alison’s dreams don’t stop here. As this altruistic movement grows, she hopes that Angel Love can collect enough steam to eventually partner with A-list celebs and global companies that will help spread their mission of love. Her goal now is to recruit a squad of angels who will begin to flutter their own wings in every corner of the world.

“Kindness is the new cool. Let’s create a world that stands up for that,” she concludes. “Let’s be those champions of a kinder world.”

Woman of the Week: Sarah Landstreet

 

From working a radio telescope on the summit of a Hawaiian volcano, to opening the first cupcake bakery in Northern Ireland, and now, mastering the art of packaging right here in Canada, Sarah Landstreet is the human equivalent of a Swiss army knife—equipped with the tools for success and ready for whatever the world throws her way.

Sarah is the founder and CEO of Georgette Packaging, a homegrown Canadian company that helps businesses navigate the design, manufacturing and marketing of customized packaging. Their goal is to keep customers educated and environmentally conscious, while also encouraging them to have fun and, quite literally, think outside of the box.

Fuelled by a curious mind, Sarah’s journey to the printing press is decorated with her explorations in a variety of industries. By training, she’s a mechanical engineer and has worked with the California Institute of Technology, as well as with two environmental consulting companies in the UK, where she was responsible for lessening the carbon footprint of new and refurbished building projects. But, despite her success, Sarah’s career was lacking the on-site experience and face-to-face interactions that she so often craved. So, noticing the booming trend of American cupcake bakeries in the UK at the time, she quit her job and, on a whim, opened a bakery of her own in 2008.

“I was really interested in the business side and the marketing aspects of it … baking was the one small thing I had to figure out how to do in order to run this bakery business,” she says with a laugh.

Baking, believe it or not, was the easy part. The hard part was an unexpected hurdle and a growing frustration for bakery owners everywhere: packaging.

“It was really easy to get things like branded business cards, a website, a logo, branded stickers, but packaging was still this aspect of the food business that, although clearly so incredibly vital, people would ask, ‘Where do I go? Do I have to call China? Do I need to get one million units?’” she says. “No one seemed to have a clear idea. So there was a ton of very similar, unbranded packaging, and as the market became more and more competitive, it was impossible to differentiate.”

Cue the inception of Georgette Packaging, which was Sarah’s way, as she says, to connect the old-school, opaque packaging industry with the hoards of rapidly growing food businesses.

Although now a team of seven people, Georgette was a solo endeavour for the first year and a half of operation. Sarah split her time between sales and manufacturing, learning all facets of the biz, from negotiating with suppliers to (wo)manning the print machines.

“About 70 percent of disposable packaging is made for the food industry,” Sarah says, so that is who she initially targeted—bakeries, cafes and specialty shops that were keen on distinguishing themselves from the pack. Now, she’s expanded to work with hotels, athletic brands, and cannabis companies, among others. Regardless of their background, however, the first step is educating her customers on their options, with the primary goal of staying as environmentally friendly as possible.

“Disposable packaging is a huge problem, we know that,” Sarah says. “It has positives because it helps businesses grow, but on the flipside, it is disposable, so there’s a lot of energy being used for something that’s just being thrown away. We feel, as a player within the industry, that we have a much bigger responsibility to try to help people make more thoughtful choices.”

In terms of choices, there really are only a few when it comes to material—two of them being the standard white or kraft (brown) cardboard boxes. “What you might not know is that, while the two of them may seem like regular cardboard boxes—white versus kraft—the white box actually takes seven times more energy to manufacture than an equivalent kraft box,” she says. “Another thing you might not know is that if the boxes come from China, they often have this very thin plastic lamination that goes on the outside of the box … You can’t really tell it’s there, but it makes the box non-recyclable.”

As there is no current regulation for how these materials are labelled, many people mistakenly throw plastic-lined boxes into their blue bins, essentially contaminating the recycling system. So, educating her customers is a task that reaches even beyond choosing materials to ensuring that businesses are also considering their package labels and their on-site waste facilities. Georgette is also in the process of launching new initiatives for greener options, such as a carbon neutral program and garden-compostable bagasse packaging.

In a way, Georgette Packaging has pulled together Sarah’s diverse set of interests in engineering, entrepreneurship, food, and most importantly, sustainability. Now a master of many trades, her success is a testament to taking risks and exploring the unfamiliar.

“When an industry is set up in such a traditional way that they’ve always had the same types of people running it and they’ve always run it in the same type of way, there are a lot of opportunities there for fresh eyes, questions, and new ideas,” she concludes. “Show up, own it and always be yourself.”

Woman of the Week : Imogen Coe

When you think of a scientist, who comes to mind? Albert Einstein? Nikola Tesla? Or, perhaps, Carl Sagan?

It’s rare that the popular answer to this question would be someone more akin to Shirley Ann Jackson, Dian Fossey or Chien-Shiung Wu, and that’s because women, among other marginalized groups, are severely underrepresented in the STEM community. This isn’t merely a matter of the past, in fact, Statistics Canada reported that only 22% of the STEM workforce in 2011 were women – a number that’s nearly on par with that reported in the late 1980s, despite an increase in women holding STEM degrees. Marginalized groups continue to be under-sponsored, underpaid and underrepresented in the professional field, and so, the main character in humanity’s modern snapshot of science remains to be, more often than not, a straight, white male.

Imogen Coe, however, is attempting to change the terrain by increasing awareness of equity, diversity, and inclusivity in this ever-evolving environment. Having experienced this challenging reality herself, she has used her platform as the founding dean of Ryerson University’s faculty of science to convey a message that is crucial for the future of the STEM community.

“It’s about human potential. It’s about human capital,” she says. “When you’re leaving human capital at the side of the road or it’s not present at the table, then you’re missing a whole bunch of brain power. You’re missing a whole bunch of ideas, solutions, creativity, perspective, all of those things that are going to help us find solutions, drive innovation, ensure that we can maintain our quality of life and our standard of living, and that we can find solutions to the really wicked, complex problems that we have, like climate change, urban sustainability, and antibiotic resistance. We’re going to need all of the brain power at that table. We can’t be relying on a subset of humanity to come up with all the answers.”

Imogen, herself, is globally recognized for her pioneering research on membrane transport proteins, which are important in the body’s uptake of anti-cancer, anti-viral and anti-parasite drugs. She has powered through the rough seas of science and academia to build a career seasoned with grand accomplishments, all the while nurturing a natural sense of curiosity that women are so often conditioned to suppress.

Growing up in the UK, Imogen says she can’t remember a time when she didn’t enjoy questioning the natural world – why the earthworms looked the way they did, why the plants grew so tall, and how it all meshed together to create the harmony of life. Naturally, she pursued an education in biology at Exeter University before moving to Canada to work in the mingling fields of science and academia.

She was met along the way with setbacks of all sorts – personal, professional and cultural – a common occurrence for any person, but one that often creates a “glass obstacle course” for marginalized groups. The glass obstacle course is a metaphor that Imogen describes as a set of invisible barriers, such as cultural stereotypes, biased hiring committees, and perceived gender roles, that all add up to exclusionary behaviours, which in turn, can create massive hurdles for certain groups of people.

One memory that Imogen points out, was when she was involved in a major scientific project that the newspapers reported on. When the story went to print, her male colleague was named for his contributions, but Imogen herself was not. “It was, you know, ‘Doctor X and his co-presenter.’ It’s like, well actually, I have a name!” she says with a laugh.

This example goes to prove that the gap is not only perpetuated by the STEM community, but by the greater culture – the media, the marketing, even the educational tools. Identifying these pillars that uphold an unfair playing field is key for the future of women and marginalized groups in STEM, Imogen says.

“We focus a lot of attention on mentoring women, leaning in ‒ things like science camps for little girls ‒ all of these that focus on the problem being the women, or being the underrepresented group,” she says. “All of that stuff is useless if we don’t, at the same time, fix the context and the culture. There’s no amount of leaning in that will help if you have a boss that’s biased or misogynistic or sexist, or if you’re a person of colour and you go into an environment where they don’t understand that jokes are racist. You have to look at the culture and context and shift out to educate people around what equity and diversity really is, and then give them the tools and strategies to make those environments, those workplaces, those educational places, those pathways truly inclusive and welcoming so people can feel comfortable bringing their full selves to work.”

Imogen has shattered the perceived fears of speaking up on these issues, something which she believes women are conditioned to absorb. She regularly speaks out on the problems affecting underrepresented groups in STEM and often works directly with men and other privileged groups to equip them with the knowledge and strategies for creating inclusive work environments.

In 2012, when Imogen joined the team at Ryerson, she pulled science out from under the broad umbrella of architecture and engineering, to a place where it’s able to flourish on its own. Although her current term as founding dean is now coming to a close, I have no doubt that she will continue to shine a light on the power of science and all of its diverse and brilliant minds.

Woman of the week: Julia Barnes

When I ask Julia Barnes to tell me who she is, she says, “I am an animal on this planet that’s hoping to survive this century.”

Half expecting to hear a standard, “I’m a filmmaker,” or, “I’m an environmental activist,” her raw response instantly hooked my interest.

Julia’s journey as an eco-warrior began when she was just 16 years old while attending high school in Burlington, Ontario. With her post-secondary years looming, she was, at the time, weighing her options of pursuing a career in either biology or fine arts. Then, she watched Revolution, a documentary made by the late filmmaker and conservationist, Rob Stewart, about the dire state of the natural world. Always harvesting a deep connection to nature, the movie spun Julia off her feet with striking statistics and images that revealed the rapid deterioration of planet earth.

Within a week, she ditched the fork in her career path altogether, and instead, jumped head first into documentary filmmaking. She bought a camera, signed up for a scuba diving course and delved into research that would eventually become the backbone of her first feature film: Sea of Life.

With no prior experience in filmmaking, Julia set out to probe the greatest threats facing the world’s oceans today, including warming temperatures and overfishing. Although the learning curve was steep, she felt a duty to spread awareness and pay forward the same inspiration that initially sparked her own will to change the world.

“The ocean is so often out of sight, out of mind, especially for people living in Canada and landlocked places,” she says. “What I found was that all of the people around me in my everyday life really had no idea what was happening. I wanted to educate people about what was going on so that hopefully, if they knew what was happening, they would want to fight for the ocean too.”

Growing up in Southern Ontario, Julia herself had never visited the ocean prior to filming. Her first time setting foot on the sandy saltwater shores of the Atlantic was during one of her first dives for Sea of Life in the Florida Keys. “It was amazing. On that first trip, I had my first introduction the beauty of the ocean,” she says. “But I also had the realization that the ocean is in massive trouble and that things are changing incredibly quickly. If you even go back 50 years, you realize that the underwater world looked radically different.”

From Florida, Julia continued to capture these changes and their repercussions around the world, exploring marine ecosystems in the Galapagos, attending the COP21 Summit in Paris, and participating in the largest climate march in recorded history in New York City.

Swimming in a sea of discouraging information was perhaps the most challenging element, she tells me. But, with support from many leaders on the front lines of the fight against climate change, such as Sylvia EarleEmily Hunter and Rob Stewart himself, Julia’s message in Sea of Life, although urgent, is a hopeful one. Now, at the age of 22, she is content to say that she’s met all of her greatest heroes.

When I ask Julia if she’s currently enrolled in school, she flatly replies, “Nope. I’m full on changing the world,” ‒ an answer that’s unapologetically noble. Attending school would place her on a four to five-year plan, a timeline, she says, is much too long for the well-being of the planet. Her second feature film, which tackles potential solutions to the environmental crisis, is scheduled to be released by the end of this year.

Although she’s encountered plenty of trial and error on her journey, she says that her instantaneous plunge into the ocean, the world of documentary filmmaking, and the issues that plague the natural world was perhaps the best way to learn.

“Don’t wait. Go for it and know that you have so much more power than what you’re told or what you’re taught to believe,” she says as a word of advice to other young climate crusaders. “Let your passion guide you towards doing whatever you think will have the biggest impact, because no matter what we love, it’s in jeopardy right now.

The Intuitive activist ~ Danielle Da Silva

Danielle Da Silva’s photos do more than entertain the eye‒ they provoke the mind. Scrolling through her portfolio is an experience that pulls at your core and demands your attention. Each compelling image tells a story of the people she’s met, the places she’s been and the moments she’s lived; a journey, which she says, was guided by none other than intuition itself.

As a photographer, filmmaker, conservationist and activist, Danielle has catered her career to producing stories that rouse interest and inspire change. In 2009, she founded Photographers Without Borders (PWB), an organization that connects visual storytellers with grassroots initiatives, nonprofits and non-governmental organizations around the world. She is the sitting CEO and, since PWB’s creation, has connected over 175 storytellers with over 175 organizations, all the while addressing all of the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals in over 35 countries.

“Storytelling helps us visualize and imagine new possibilities,” reads a quote from Danielle on her website. “That way we can manifest new realities.”

Growing up, Danielle says she was always filled with a burning sense of curiosity. Having a Portuguese mother and a British father of Indian-Pakistani descent, she said, prompted her to carry forward a quest of identity that was passed on from the generations before her. Her circumstances manifested into various solo travels at a young age, but it wasn’t until 2008 when she visited Kerala, India and worked with the Swami Vivekananda Medical Mission that she was truly propelled on a path of self-discovery.

“I took photos the entire time I was there and produced these amateur images that people seemed to really like when I came back. And that kind of struck a chord in me,” she said. “With those images, we were able to raise money to build nine schools in little villages. And that was a huge indicator to me of the power of storytelling.”

With no real formal training behind the lens, Danielle’s knack for photography came about rather organically. Following her trip to India, she was urged to pursue this apparent gift, and slowly, she began to merge her newfound passion for storytelling with her education in science and global development. Her work was met with a strong momentum, and has since carried her to more than 80 countries working with humanitarian groups that assist women, children, marginalized communities and conservation efforts.

In 2016, after a trip to Indonesia with PWB, Danielle co-founded the Sumatran Wildlife Sanctuary, which works to conserve rainforest habitat near the Gunung Leuser ecosystem. That same year, she also co-founded a local non-profit called The Dandelion Initiative, which, after witnessing cases of harassment in her field and experiencing the trauma of assault herself, advocates to end sexual violence through community action.

Throughout this dynamic journey, she’s mastered six languages and garnered the inspiration for two powerful TED Talks. But, the real goal in each of her ventures is to produce a narrative that evokes something visceral. “My photography is very, I think, unsettling sometimes…and I find that that’s something that’s really necessary right now. We’re so overloaded with information and imagery…and I think that my images make people look twice,” she said. “I think that can have an impact on people’s emotions, how they view different situations in the world and how they view their relationships to them.”

Danielle believes that it’s this exact push and pull between photograph and viewer that can reshape perspectives and breed positive change. Her motivation for setting the stage, so to speak, is rooted in her intuition‒ a natural, instinctive feeling that tells her what’s right, she said. Using this guiding force to navigate through the world, she hopes that her content continues to shed light on her own self-discovery, and not only inspires the communities that are featured through her work, but also other female storytellers who are awakening to the true potential of their art.–

“Don’t let anything get in the way and always follow your intuition because we [women] have a very strong sense of it. It’s something that a lot of men don’t have or have to work hard at, and I think that that can really be a good guide,” she said. “Using that intuition will help you flourish and thrive, and reimagine what the industry can be.”

 

A Great Algonquin Portage

We arrived at Algonquin just as a dark wall of ominous clouds blanketed the park. “Is this foreshadowing?” I thought to myself.

It was my first time visiting this provincial gem. My boyfriend and friends surprised me with the long weekend getaway for my 23rd birthday and I was relieved to ditch the city for some nature-induced fun. What I didn’t know, was that another surprise awaited me at the entry of the park. We weren’t just camping…we were tackling a great Algonquin portage!

Portaging entails carrying your canoe across the land between lakes until you find a marked campsite that suits your liking. I predicted portaging with my boyfriend, who is an extremely ambitious camper, would entail a weekend of intense physical activity, refined outdoorsmanship and throbbing muscle cramps. Sure it wouldn’t be the weekend of suntanning, swimming and relaxation that I had anticipated, but it was an adventure.

Meeting the gray skies, we quickly unpacked our cars and loaded our waterproof bags into three canoes. In the final moments of sunshine, we paddled around the small lakes searching for the perfect campsite. Note to self #1: Never expect perfection while camping.

After an hour-long search that was decorated with spats of rain, we pulled up to a small, hilly island. We docked our canoes and scoped out the plot. It was spacious enough for three tents and even had a pre-built fire pit. “Guys! Come here!” my friend suddenly shouted. We all rushed over to see an aged memorial plaque for a young girl who died on the island years prior. “Nope!” one of my friends said, completely spooked out. We hopped back into our canoes and begged our biceps to paddle on. As we departed, in some sick joke mastered by the universe, a little red shoe floated between our boats. Note to self #2: Stop watching horror movies.

We passed site after site. That one is too bare…that one is too small…that one isn’t marked…until a loud boom echoed across the lake. Have you ever watched that scene from The Notebook when Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are passionately proclaiming their love for one another while sitting in a rowboat in a torrential downpour? Now imagine that, minus the charming words.

We could barely see each other as we headed for land to escape any potential lightning. When it slightly let up, we caught sight of flames flickering on the shore. An older couple made their way out to the opening. “Are you guys OK?” they shouted. It’s funny how pickiness tends to wear off in moments of desperation. Attempting to seek shelter, even for only a few minutes, my friend shouted back, “Hey, do you guys have room for a couple more people over there?” For a moment, all we could hear were the pellets of rain slamming our tin canoes as the couple stood still on the shore. Finally, the man put his hands up to his mouth and shouted a half-assed, “Ha-ha!” that reverberated across the open water and into my nightmares for the remainder of our stay.

Although miserable, tired and drenched, we eventually found a marked spot that was, ironically, almost perfect for our weekend. After setting up our tents, we spent the remainder of the drier days exploring the island, cooking delicious meals and laughing around the fire. Note to self #3: Never turn down a surprise camping trip.

To this day, my boyfriend tells people, “Yeah, it was raining. But the only thing filling up the canoe was Courtney’s tears.” Which isn’t true, of course, but it is funny. And if the outcome of an adventure is a funny story, then, in my opinion, it was an adventure well-lived.

 

Woman of the Week: Jennifer Huggins

“Defeat is not an option,” reads the bold tagline for Jennifer Huggins’ business, and the mantra for her life’s journey.

I first met Jennifer a few years ago at her gym, Kingsway Boxing Club, tucked away in the sprawling industrial streets of West Toronto. I was immediately amazed by her determined spirit and dynamic success. As well as being an established owner of two locations in the GTA, she is a boxing coach, an official AIBA referee, a travelling magician’s assistant and the creator of the Fight To End Cancer annual fundraiser.

Although now heavily immersed in the boxing world, Jennifer’s eclectic odyssey didn’t begin in the ring. Rather, it began in the rink. At age 14, she was training as a national figure skater when an unfortunate neck injury put her in recovery for over a year. During this time, she stumbled upon a nearby boxing gym. “I realized…I wasn’t in love with the sport of figure skating. I was in love with the competition,” she said.

Off came the skates and on went the gloves as she worked her way through a world that was permeated by an old-school mentality. For Jennifer, this both attracted and challenged her, as she tried to find a footing in the industry. “I found myself going from a female-dominated sport where I couldn’t get any attention, to being in a male-dominated world where I got a lot of attention for the wrong reasons- being a female, being in a male-dominated sport, being, quote unquote, ‘too pretty’ to be a boxer,” she told me.

And it wasn’t just her gender that turned heads, but her age as well. Working with veterans in the ring, Jennifer often felt that she was looked at as inexperienced or undeserving of her achievements. The lack of support was only exasperated when the Hollywood flick, Million Dollar Baby was released, she told  me, prompting many to question whether boxing was a suitable path for a young woman—or, really, for anyone. What they didn’t realize, she says, is that, no matter who the athlete, boxing is actually a very safe and technical sport.

It was at this point that Jennifer used her rivalrous attitude to power a journey of education. Supporting herself and working out of her apartment studio as a personal trainer, she offered free boxing lessons to newcomers, hoping they would walk away with a new appreciation of the commonly misunderstood sport and its participants. And, luckily, it worked.

Within a few years, her business was booming, which led to the opening of not one, but two boxing gyms in her west end neighbourhood. The rapid success, however, also spurred an unexpected sense of guilt. Her community had offered her so much support, she recalls, that it was now time to give something back.

Partnering with Princess Margaret Cancer Foundation in 2011, she founded the Fight To End Cancer (FTEC) annual charity event. FTEC invites CEOs, executives and leading corporate players to step into the boxing ring- many of them for their first time. After six months of intense training, the contenders go head-to-head in Olympic-style boxing bouts at the charity’s annual black-tie gala. Since its inception, FTEC has donated over $850,000 to cancer research and is gunning for a $1 million goal at the 2018 gala this June.

Nodding back to the slogan that’s defined her journey, Jennifer hopes that in illness, and in life, “defeat” is a word that will one day be abolished. “In sports, for example, you’ll hear, ‘Canada was defeated by Russia,’ or ‘Canada defeats Germany,’…“That’s one thing I’d love to see people fix the definition of, or not use it anymore, because it’s such a finishing term,” she said. “I think what we need to learn is that defeat is not an option…you always have something to fight for.”

A true fighter, day in and day out, Jennifer has become somewhat of a trailblazer in Toronto’s female boxing scene. When I ask about her thoughts on the #MeToo movement, she tells me that it’s this same sense of fearlessness that’s been the movement’s greatest triumph. “It’s definitely made way for more open dialogue for people, and for women especially, who didn’t feel comfortable with certain things, to actually bring them to the forefront,” she said. “Where this movement is really helping is allowing people to feel confident in letting others know, you know what, this is not OK for me, and I think that’s what was lacking before.” Matching the re-ignition of confidence that this movement has sparked, Jennifer too hopes to inspire courage in every person that walks through her gym doors.

“I guess the common theme is that there’s so much we’re capable of,” she concluded. “Watching people empower themselves, and being a part of that process, is something that will always keep me going.”

Photography by Vincent Dayrit

 

 

Portugal travel tips: consider camping

From the stunning coastlines to the lush vineyards of the north, Portugal’s allure is one of a kind. I remember the overwhelming feeling when two of my best gal pals and I decided on this destination for a three-week trip in 2016- there was so much to see in so little time.

I wanted to visit the rolling hills of Sintra, the vibrant city of Lisbon and the cliff-lined Algarve coast, but there was plenty of natural beauty between the nation’s major hubs, and it was calling to me. An agreement was made to skip the headache of booking hostels and the group opted for a more rugged experience. Sleeping bags, cooking supplies and a three-person tent were packed  and plans were set to jump from campsite to campsite along the Alentejo Coast.

To this day,  adventures camping through Portugal are some of my fondest travel memories. Those looking for a journey on a budget, or merely for the chance to get outside and indulge in nature, consider camping along this country’s coast for the perfect cure to onset of wanderlust.

Cost

Camping is a much cheaper alternative to staying in hotels, Airbnbs and even backpacker hostels. On average, I spent about €5 ($7.75 CAD) per night, with some sites costing as little as €2 ($3.10 CAD). Sometimes, this charge was applied to each person, but more commonly, it was applied to each tent, and because the group decided to snuggle up in one, the overall accommodation costs were extremely low.

Most campsites along the Alentejo Coast are located in small towns, so food and alcohol were generally cheaper as well. I remember one night sitting around a picnic bench, listening to the ocean, and sipping on a €0.50 glass of local wine that was filled to the brim- and this was a common occurrence.

It’s worthwhile to dig through travel forums to find campsites and wild spots in an area of interest, or check out iOverlander and FurgoVW for mapped areas throughout Western Europe. In Algarve territory, be aware that wild camping is officially banned.

Environment

Coming from Canada, where there are  some of the most lush campsites in the world, setting up a tent in the often sparse landscapes of Portugal was a bit of an adjustment. But, where Portugal’s coast lacks in trees, it makes up for in ocean.

The Alentejo Coast is a string of sandy coves woven through steep and rocky ocean-side ridges. This stunning scenery is usually only a short walk from  campsites, or, if wild camping,  the ocean is right at your tent door! There’s nothing better than waking up to the soundtrack of the sea.

Some of the Alentejo Coast  is populated with oak, olive and other native plant species- Over 100 kilometres of the coast is part of the Parque Natural do Sudoeste Alentejano e Costa Vicentina, a preserved slice of land that’s home to plenty of unique animal and plant species. Unlike Canada there are no black bears or big cats roaming around these parts. There are very few dangerous animals in Portugal, especially along the coast, which is yet another reason why camping here has such a draw.

Site Quality

Campground quality can be a hit or a miss, and the group definitely experienced some rougher plots of land. However, more often than not, all were pleasantly surprised with the location and perks that the accommodations had to offer.

Most campgrounds along the coast are equipped with amenities that are suited for a resort- clean showers, outdoor pools, laundry rooms, on-site restaurants, grocery stores, barbecue stations and even widespread WiFi access. Some of the grounds are so clean and comfortable, that it’s not uncommon for families to park their camper vans or trailers and stay for months at a time. The parks can get quite full in peak season, but luckily, our group was travelling at the end of September and missed the summer rush.

A few coastal spots  are world renowned for their waves and are popular with surf camps and retreats. The grounds stayed on in Sagres, for example, had a surf camp on site and offered lessons to interested visitors.

People

Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of camping through Portugal was the many faces  that I met along the way. As most small-town campgrounds are frequented by Portuguese families, I had the opportunity to spend time with the locals and learn about their culture firsthand. Friendly residents and fellow campers brought the group to their favourite beach spots, as well as to local gatherings. They cooked the meanest salted cod (or baccalau) I’ve ever tasted in my life!

There’s something about being in the great outdoors, especially in a country as beautiful as Portugal, that sparks the most basic instinct to bask in the joy of company. The intimate, yet open spirit of camping is one that brings people closer together and it’s an experience that the hostel-jumping trend of travelling often seems to miss. So, on the next trip to Portugal, (or anywhere for that matter) plan  a different kind of adventure- one that allows travelers to see a destination in its purest state.

Tourist Tips: Surviving a police trap in Vietnam

 

We missed our turn. Even though we had a map, and even though the man at the motorcycle shop showed us exactly where to go. Even though we had read plenty of ominous articles warning readers to not miss that very crucial turn, we missed our turn.

Let me take you back…

It was the beginning of December in Vietnam and my partner and I were wrapping up our six-week backpacking trip through Southeast Asia. We only had ten days to spend in Vietnam and, although there were plenty of cities and villages we yearned to see, we didn’t want to spend our last week of vacation commuting across the country. But, our unsettled spirit for adventure also refused to let us situate ourselves in one place for the entire duration. So, we compromised.

We decided to hitch a short ride from Ho Chi Minh City to Mũi Né, a sleepy beach town where we could relax and explore the southern coast. Mũi Né is a fairly quiet place, but it still seems to thrive on tourism. It’s especially popular with Eastern European travellers, as many of the restaurants, shops and hotels are owned and operated by Russian expats. The town’s main claim to fame, however, is an unlikely set of rolling red and white sand dunes that are popular for dune buggy trips and beautiful desert panoramas.

This natural landmark was at the top of our list and, as we had done in previous countries, we set out to rent a motorbike that we could ride to the dunes and beyond. The streets were much quieter here compared to Ho Chi Minh City, a place where the mere thought of mounting a bike in  the lawless flow of traffic was enough to induce a panic attack. However, I’m a pretty overly cautious traveller (and person), so, naturally, I began looking up license restrictions, driving conditions and shop scams in the area. Low and behold, Google returned a slew of results about the dreaded ‘Mũi Né Police Trap.’

Story has it, that a while back, some Russian tourists were driving recklessly in the area. In response, the Vietnamese police decided to clamp down on unlicensed drivers. Technically speaking, you require a Vietnamese license to drive a motorbike anywhere in the country, but it’s very rarely enforced, as locals prefer to keep vehicle rental businesses alive. The Mũi Né police force, however, took the order as an opportunity to construct a scam using the popular sand dunes as their bait.

Situated near the landmark’s entrance, they pull over non-Vietnamese drivers and pitch freedom at a cost, encouraging tourists to reach deep into their pockets if they want to leave without consequence. As you can imagine, the more fear they instill, the heftier the bribe they’re likely to receive. Thankfully, we knew exactly where these police officers were stationed and had clearly mapped driving instructions to avoid their shady trap.

Here’s the part where we miss our turn.  

We didn’t realize until they were ten feet in front of us, pulling every foreign face to the side of the road. The night before, we overheard a guy at a bar telling a drunken story about how he just kept on driving, right past the police officers who were too lazy to get on their bikes and chase him down. I felt my boyfriend rev the engine and I squeezed his waist as we zoomed on by, hoping the universe would grant us the same fate.

Suddenly, we were the prey of a police chase. And, before you envision Pierce Brosnan and Michelle Yeoh whizzing through dense traffic at full speed, reel in your imagination- it was more like Wallace and Gromit going a steady 40 kilometres per hour and whistling an apprehensive tune.

The police officer pulled right up beside us, looked over with a tired face and simply said, “stop.” We joined a small group of scared, helmeted tourists who had also been caught. He first asked to see our Vietnamese license, which of course we didn’t have, so he then proceeded to pull my boyfriend into a parked pick-up truck where he broke down a deal: we go free, with the motorbike, for five million dong (about $280 CAD).  

Now, you’ve probably already heard this travel tip preached by your father or your Lonely Planet Guidebook, but any time you clip in your backpack buckles, be sure to have a trusty stash of emergency doe tucked away in a secret spot. It’s easy to shrug off, but, trust me,  it’s so worth it once your staring into the sweaty face of a corrupt policeman.

We told the officer that we didn’t have that much money and showed him our empty pockets as proof. So, he ordered my boyfriend to drive to an ATM machine and withdraw the amount while they held me as ransom. At the time, we were using a Chinese bank card and, for some reason, it wasn’t working in Vietnamese bank machines. In all other money-related situations we were screwed, but in this instance, that Chinese card saved our butts.

We explained our situation as best we could, and after nearly one hour of broken debate with the officer and his sidekicks, they shook our hands and let us free for the mere price of $5 CAD. I’m still not sure if it was our knack for sweet talk, or just the pure exhaustion of being a tainted trooper that got us off, but I sure was relieved to hit the road again leaving the hustle in our dust.

Sometimes in life you miss a turn or two, but hey, all you can do is reroute yourself to the destination. We did reach the the sand dunes, after all, with a stack of hidden cash in our backpack’s inner pocket and a soon-to-be hilarious travel tale to add to the books.

Why you need to visit Lamma Island

Beyond the concrete towers that encapsulate Hong Kong’s skyline lies a hidden gem in the South China Sea. Originally known as Pok Liu Chau, Lamma Island is the tiny 13-square-kilometer destination that everyone should add to their bucket list. Although, sadly, there are no llamas, as the name may imply, this island is a true haven away from the dense commotion of central Hong Kong.

Lamma Island boasts some of Hong Kong’s finest natural landscapes, complete with thick greenery, swimmable beaches and a refreshing dose of ocean air. You can catch a ride to the northern village of Yung Shue Wan, or the eastern Sok Kwu Wan in just 20 minutes from Victoria Harbour, or 40 minutes from Aberdeen.

Whether you’re planning a day trip or a weeks-long getaway, here’s why this island will provide you with the perfect change of pace:

The Beaches

A spacious, tidy beach is a relic that’s hard to come by along the coasts of Hong Kong and mainland China. Lamma Island, however, has plenty of swimmable beaches with white sand and (mostly) clean water. Hung Shing Yeh is the island’s most popular beach in the main town of Yung Shue Wan, and despite being ordered to get out of the water due to a nearby oil spill during my own beach day, it’s definitely worth a trip. If you’re looking for a quieter spot, Lo So Shing beach is a must-visit, or you can explore the island’s coast, which is speckled with a ton of secret sandy shores. There is one beach, however, on the southern tip of the island that’s reserved for our marine animal friends. Although accessible by foot or private boat for some of the year, Sham Wan Bay is closed to the public from June to October, as it is the only remaining nesting site in Hong Kong for endangered sea turtles.

The Food

Hong Kong is internationally renowned for its seafood, and some of its best can be found on Lamma Island. Home to one of the territory’s oldest fishing villages, Sok Kwu Wan was once the liveliest fishing centre in Hong Kong. The village residents have been practicing this art for centuries and continue to use traditional fishing techniques to this day. Both of the island’s main towns are lined with seafood eateries, most of which come equipped with patios that overlook the ocean. And if fish isn’t really your thing, not to worry! Lamma is home to a hefty population of expats, many of whom have opened their own restaurants with an international flare. You can find delicious Spanish tapas, traditional British pubs, aromatic Indian grub, and plenty of cozy vegan and vegetarian cafes.

The Hiking Trails

With no cars or buses, Lamma Island can only really be explored by bicycle or by foot. Luckily, there are numerous trails traversing the island’s landscape.The most popular trail is known as the Lamma Island Family Walk and takes you between the major towns of Yung Shue Wan and Sok Kwu Wan in about one and a half hours. The trail is mostly paved with clear markers and fresh fruit stands along the way, and it’s easily doable for beginners. It will bring you through the rolling green hills of the island to various lookout points where you can catch the sunset and see the glitzy shimmer of Hong Kong’s concrete jungle across the channel.

For the history buffs, Lamma’s trails are also decorated with remnants of the past. Along the way, you’ll find one of many small caves that were built by the Japanese during their occupation of Hong Kong in World War II. The caves were dug to hold speedboats that would be used in suicide attacks on enemy ships. Although they were never fully in use, the caves are untouched to this day, and are now known as the Kamikaze Grottos.

The People

Lamma Island is home to approximately 6,000 residents– not many, compared to the millions of people that populate the rest of Hong Kong. Some locals have lived here for generations, with roots reaching back to the island’s booming fishing days. However, Lamma’s laid-back energy and undeniable charm has attracted expats, artists and wandering nomads from all corners of the globe. It’s also been a recent draw for many workers who’ve opted for a daily ferry commute over the dreaded apartment hunt in mainland Hong Kong. The apparent multiculturalism has infused the island with a free-spirited vibe that makes it one of the best corners of Hong Kong if you’re looking to meet new people.

The Peace & Quiet

Lastly and, in my opinion, most importantly, Lamma Island is a slice of serenity in the foreground of cosmopolitan chaos. There are no cars and no skyscrapers to pollute its natural beauty, in fact, government restrictions forbid any units to be built over three storeys high. This not only curbs the number of residents, but it also opens the view to the skies above- something that’s quite a rarity on the mainland. If you really want to bask in the silence, avoid the island’s busiest time, which is summer weekends when a wave of mainland citizens come rushing in for the prime beach-lounging hours. But, just as quickly as they appear, they vanish at the call of the last scheduled ferry.

If you want to experience Lamma Island and all it has to offer, I suggest planning your trip soon. As the island gains popularity with visitors from near and far, an increasing number of developers are setting their sights on this relaxed hideaway. It may not be the same place in ten, or even five years from now, so hurry up and pack your bags!