Dreamscapes Magazine

Branson Christmas parade

It’s only the beginning of November but it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas here in Branson. When the weather turns cold, and the summer crowds retreat, Branson transforms into a Christmas wonderland.

In the distance, the rugged Ozark Mountains look like a perfectly manicured golf course. The intoxicating scent of hot toddies leads me to an enclave of shops selling maple syrup infused candles and cutsie knick-knacks for the house. Outside, a giant Christmas tree standing 20-feet tall is loaded with crimson ornaments. If you’re looking for more Christmas paraphernalia, an endless selection of baubles await across the laneway at Kringles Christmas Shop, the largest store of its kind in Missouri.

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As the pink sun is setting over Las Croabas Park, past the breathtaking El Yunque rainforest, and over an hour drive east of San Juan, Puerto Rico’s capital, children are still playing in the ocean watching the waves roll in.

I pay for my savory crescent-shaped cheese empanada in American dollars from a small kiosk nearby before joining a kayaking excursion to Laguna Grande (Big Lagoon). I hear parents calling to their kids in Spanish “Ven aqui” (Come here), holding up enticing bags of churros- traditional Spanish tubular shaped donuts powdered in cinnamon and sugar. Well, I know that I’m in the U.S.A., but it sure doesn’t feel like it.

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Relaxing by the pool with a mojito in one hand and a good book in the other, I’m loving the quiet scene at the recently opened Metropolitan by COMO in Miami Beach, a spectacular, 74-room, renovated Art Deco hotel.

This is COMO’s first U.S. location, boasting exquisite contemporary interiors by well-known Italian designer, Paola Navone, with a top-notch spa and incredible food. I barely unpack because Miami is only a warm up for my next stop, a short flight away, to Parrot Cay in Turks and Caicos.

I know my vacation is going to be perfect when after hours of paddle boarding on Tiffany blue waters, I jog across the flawless sand to my chaise lounge and find a coconut pierced with a straw, ready for drinking.

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Each morning, just before the pink sun rises, I happily wake up, pull on my neon yellow jogging shorts, grab a banana and head down to the beach in anticipation of my 30-minute run.

I park my flip-flops on the immaculately kept condominium walkway, where water hoses dangle waiting to spritz down my soon-to-be very sandy feet.

Not expecting to see a soul, I stumble by early birds and blue herons, squeak open my sleepy eyes in time to witness the tangerine skies and feel the crystal green waters of the Gulf of Mexico wash over my toes.

The Gulf Shores and Orange Beach, recently named one of the best Gulf Coast Beaches by The Travel Channel, is 32 miles of meandering white sand that feels and looks more like fine sugar crystals.

It doesn’t take long to fall in love with Alabama’s sweet tea and southern hospitality where strangers become fast friends connecting over football and a bowl of fried crab claws, and locals giggle every September about the arrival of the lovebugs (a.k.a Plecia Nearctica) and their unusual acrobatic in-flight mating rituals.

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