About Me (Barbara Weibel)

Barbara Weibel After years of working 70 hours a week at jobs I detested, I felt like the proverbial "hole in the donut" - solid on the outside, but empty on the inside. Searching for meaning in my life, I abandoned my successful but unsatisfying career and set out on a six-month solo backpacking trip around the world to pursue my true passions of travel, writing, and photography. My blog features stories about the destinations I visit, people I meet, the crazy things...Read more here....


It all began with “CowParade,” a public art display of giant fiberglass cows hosted by the City of Zurich, Switzerland in 1998. Decorated by local artists and then displayed all over the city, the sculptures were ultimately auctioned off to benefit charity. The event was so successful and well-received that it became the impetus for iconic public art displays all over the world.

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Lone remainder of Chicago's CowParade, this bronze casting sits outside the Chicago Cultural Center

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Sarasota clown sculpture

Chicago was the first to mimic the concept; in a nod to its history as a meat packing center, fiberglass cows were scattered throughout the Loop in 1999. Since then, scores of copy-cat events around the world have featured sculptures of whatever animal or item best represents the sponsoring city.

Sarasota, Florida, also known as Circus Capital of the World, chose clowns. The Outer Banks of North Carolina, during the centennial celebration of Wilbur and Orville Wright’s first motorized flight, attached metal wings to mustangs, merging “First Flight” with its reputation as home to one of the largest herds of Spanish mustangs still remaining in the wild. And in Miami’s South Beach, five-foot tall flamingos still peek from gardens and line the broad boulevards. The list goes on: Los Angeles sponsored angels; Hendersonville, North Carolina exhibited giant apples; and Norfolk, Virginia had mermaids. Continue reading

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If you look hard enough, you can pierce the phony facade in even the most tourist-choked destinations. In Miami Beach I finally broke through the barrier when I connected with its artist community.

My first view of the art of Karim Ghidinelli was from a second floor balcony at the Art Center/South Florida, looking down into his open cubicle. The artist sat in the center of the room, hunched over a cell phone, surrounded by massive oil on tin paintings. Initially, the flamboyant colors splayed across each piece held my attention. But I was even more fascinated when I realized that a giant thumbprint had been etched into the center of each metal canvas. I had to see them up close.

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Ghidinelli in his studio, surrounded by huge canvases

The intense young man welcomed me into his studio and studied me with dark, brooding eyes as I examined his paintings up close. Each fingerprint whorl was formed by words, some readable and some not, spiraling in toward the center. I read snatches:

“…the most natural pressure is fear…”

“…all the traits that make the self do not come from the self so how do we claim…”

“…fall under the omnipresent post-modern theory of everything…”

“…fearless encounter…”

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The artist's intensity is reflected in his workk

I asked Ghidinelli if the concept of fear was central to his work. “We all strive for stability but never achieve it,” he explained. Ghidinelli is no stranger to this struggle; like most artists he never knows when Continue reading

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The young Latina leaned against the door jamb, disinterestedly watching tourists stream past. Her four-inch stilettos, strapless bustier, and leather hotpants suggested the oldest profession on earth, yet she stood in the doorway of a family-owned bodega where Ybor City’s residents gather each day to sip strong espresso, share gossip, and slam dominoes. Unlike Miami Beach, where I was disappointed by the lack of Latin flavor, Ybor City is the real deal: an historic Cuban district in Florida’s Tampa Bay area.

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A lady of the night or just waiting for the party to start?

Some years ago I had lunched at Ybor City’s Columbia Restaurant, famous for their  authentic Spanish cuisine. In the light of day, empty storefronts, peeling paint, and wind-blown trash suggested despair and decay. I checked the neighborhood off my list of places to see, never intending to return. But as fate would have it, I was unexpectedly detained in Tampa this past Halloween eve. As the last rays of daylight slowly faded I searched for a hotel along unfamiliar streets and suddenly found myself in Ybor City.

This was not the Ybor City I remembered! Curvy metal trellises decorated with white lights arched over the main street as far as I could see. Vivid neon signs threw reflections into the street and the aroma of strong coffee mingled with rich Cuban cigar smoke. Under cover of darkness, neglect melted away, replaced by pools of golden light spilling from bars and cafes and throbbing Latin beats. Buildings that had once seemed dilapidated suddenly oozed charm.

Ybor City owes its existence to the cigar industry. In 1884, Henry B. Plant completed his railroad to Tampa and was in the process of improving the port facilities at Port Tampa. Realizing that Cuban leaf tobacco, the best in the world, and the finished tobacco products could easily be imported and exported, Vicente Martinez Ybor founded Ybor City as a cigar manufacturing center in 1886. He quickly attracted experienced cigar workers from Spain, Cuba and Italy, establishing Tampa as the “Cigar Capital of the World.”

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Ybor City at night is a fun cultural travel destination

Life in those early years revolved around social clubs that were organized to serve specific ethnic groups (L’unione Italiana for Italians, El Circulo Cubano for Cubans, Club Marti-Maceo for Afro-Cubans, among others). Not only did these clubs preserve the cultural heritage from one generation to the next, members could also subscribe Continue reading

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Most of the time I arrive at a destination without preconceived notions, but Miami Beach was steeped in expectation. Thanks to the popular TV show, CSI Miami, I imagined exquisitely preserved art deco architecture, tropical weather, oiled body-builders with rippling muscles, exuberant Latin culture, and colors vivid enough to make your eyeballs hurt. It was none of those things.

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Palette of pastel colors adorn Miami Beach's famoous art deco architecture

Just my luck, when I finally had an opportunity to visit Miami Beach, the temperatures plunged into the low 50′s. I was not the only one unprepared; tourists everywhere shivered in shorts and sleeveless tops. Even the Holiday Inn Oceanfront, where I won a free night’s stay in a contest held by Travel Wonders of the World blog, had a hard time coping. Housekeeping had set my room’s thermostat at 50 degrees and it was ice cold. Even turning up the thermostat had little effect. Since south Florida temperatures are normally much higher, the hotel has both “room air” and “facility air;” the room air could be turned off but the facility air could not. It took a portable heater and extra blankets – which the hotel graciously delivered – to remedy the problem.

The frigid weather also nixed my plans to lie on the beach, although plenty of souls heartier than me ventured out in the middle of the afternoon, when temps soared to the high 60′s. Not to be deterred, I put on my warmest available clothes and walked along the oceanfront, searching for the Miami Beach I envisioned. Rather than long legged, exotic women in skimpy bikinis I found families; instead of sugary Continue reading

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I’m celebrating an anniversary of sorts. Three years ago this month I walked away from corporate life to pursue my lifelong passions of travel, writing and photography. Although it’s not an easy path, I feel alive for the first time in my life. The serious perspective that dogged my every thought and action for years has magically vanished. The difference between then and now was driven home recently during when I experienced Walt Disney World with uninhibited, childlike joy.

Here’s to many more years of joy!

Orlando Things To Do

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Pyramid of 200 painted bowling balls are stacked in the front yard of "Whimzy," home of artists Todd Ramquist and Kiaralinda

Everywhere I went in the small village of Safety Harbor, Florida, people told me the same thing: “You have to see the bowling ball house.” It was easy to find, but even without directions it would have been hard to miss the pyramid of 200 bowling balls stacked on the front lawn. Fascinated, I walked around the corner lot. Crazy quilt pathways of multi-colored ceramic tiles wound through grounds where bowling balls lined garden beds, balanced on pillars, and peeked out from beneath jungle vegetation. Even the mailbox sat on a stack of bowling balls.

A creation of husband and wife artists Todd Ramquist and Kiaralinda, “Whimzey” began when Kiaralinda saw a single bowling ball decorating the cactus garden in front of a house. “I thought it was a neat idea, but I wanted more.” Not long afterward, she spotted a rack of bowling balls at a flea market. “The sign said: ’10 free bowling balls per person.’ In those days we were driving some little car that could barely fit two people, but we crammed it with 40 free bowling balls.”

When Todd and Kiaralinda set up an outdoor table and began painting the balls, neighbors wandered over to see what was going on. “Kids started asking if they cold paint a bowling ball, so we gave them all brushes and let them go,” said Todd. Before long, people began dropping off old bowling balls to be used in the design. Wondering what to do with the surplus, they invited artist friends to paint a bowling ball. To their surprise, many accepted the offer; these creations, affectionately dubbed the Continue reading

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