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July 2016

Get Information Where To Travel according On Your Zodiac Hint

Picking a get-away goal can be as straightforward as tossing a dart at a guide of the globe or bouncing on the following awesome arrangement that an aircraft brings to the table. Be that as it may, in case you’re searching for something somewhat more, suppose, eccentric, take a stab at picking your next winning goal in light of your Zodiac sign.

Astrological personality traits can make or break a dream vacation. For example, what if you’re a well-organized Virgo traveling with a dreamy Gemini? Or heading on getaway with the two most stubborn signs—Leo and Taurus—and no one will budge on where to rent a villa? Or consider the Pisces who is yearning to wile away vacation days daydreaming near the water, but is stuck traveling with a Leo who is more concerned with snapping selfies?

We’re here to help. This travel guide can help find the perfect destination for each astrological sign. Even if you don’t believe in astrology, we may offer some new ideas for your next vacation.

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

Vacations that combine family and fun are a great fit for Capricorns, who are reserved, but love having people around. Capricorns’ ambitious and disciplined demeanor can also make volunteer vacations that balance relaxation with giving back a great option for these serious thinkers who long for deep connections.

Aquarius (January 20 – February 18)

This air sign is known for its independence and single-mindedness about their preferences in life and in vacations. That can mean repeat visits to a favorite lodge or beach hotel, a beloved city they return to again and again, or finding an off-the-beaten path natural wonder that appeals to their originality and inventiveness.

Pisces (February 19 – March 20)

Pisces’ escapist tendencies make vacation mandatory. This mutable water sign is dreamy by nature and thrives in beautiful destinations that are far away from everything, but their own imagination. Choose a destination that has natural wonders as well as cultural offerings (Pisces can get bored easily), but make sure to leave plenty of room in the itinerary for daydreaming.

Aries (March 21 – April 19)

Aries are an independent, energetic bunch who won’t be happy spending their precious vacation days on a week sitting poolside at Club Med. Instead they prefer to be constantly on the move with a drive for the next adventure and a new tale to tell.

Taurus (April 20 – May 20)

While the Taurus is known for being warmhearted and loving, they also love to self-indulge and there’s no better time to do that than on vacation. Splurge on a luxury hotel in a relaxing destination to maximize your winter break and let the patient and placid side of the Taurus personality shine through.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

Air signs are known for being adaptable to almost any situation they are thrown into and thrive in new situations. That flexibility, though, can mean they bore easily, especially when they aren’t challenged. When it comes to vacations, Geminis should be kept hopping—whether that’s from island to island or from one cultural site to another. That’s why big cities filled with new experiences or multiple destinations in one trip are perfect for the Gemini traveler.

Cancer (June 21 – July 22)

Family vacations or getaways with close friends can be ideal for these water signs, who can use the opportunity to show off their nurturing tendencies and take care of everyone. If a family get-together isn’t in the cards, escape to a cozy bed and breakfast in a small city.

Leo (July 23 – August 22)

These lions are known for their fiery energy and flair for the dramatic. Leos love to be where the action is—the biggest party, the most fun, the most drool-worthy setting—and ideally as the center of attention. When it comes to choosing a vacation spot, think FOMO-inspiring trips that will look great on Instagram and sound even better on paper.

Virgo (August 23 – September 22)

Virgos love a detailed itinerary, tend to research all the best spots far in advance, and may be ready to share their Google maps marked with all of the best restaurants, markets, and coffee shops. Use those perfectionist tendencies to your travel advantage by arranging cooking classes, mapping out bike tours, or perfecting your lasso technique at a high-end dude ranch.

Libra (September 23 – October 22)

Libras love tranquility and have a penchant for the romantic and charming. The perfect vacations for Libras include itineraries that balance peace and variety. Look for destinations that have both quiet corners as well as shops, restaurants, and cultural sights for when a more gregarious mood strikes.

Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 21)

Scorpio’s intense nature means that to truly unwind, they’ll need to unplug to recharge. While Scorpios love the chance to commune with nature, they may not want to rough it and pack all their belongings into the woods—even though they have the determination to make it happen. Instead, pair nature with modern conveniences by finding a forest lodge somewhere deep in a National Park, or rent an Airbnb near a lake.

Sagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

In astrology, the Sagittarius is depicted as a centaur, armed with a bow and ready for the hunt. As a traveler this means always seeking the new and the now, whether that means bunking down for weeks with a far-flung population or seeking out an under-the-radar, untouched destination.

Together Your Kids with The Top Trips

Amusement parks may be useful for a rush, however today’s best child arranged outings pair diversion with advancement and breath life into schoolwork while keeping guardians cheerful.

-If You Have 1 Week

Try Adventures By Disney for a road trip through Austria, Germany, and the Czech Republic.

See one of the oldest clocks in the world in Prague, learn about court life during the Hapsburg Empire in Vienna, and tour the dungeons of a 12th-century Bavarian castle. Overnight stays are in top hotels with pools, and coach rides between destinations might feature offbeat historical anecdotes along with a guide’s personal recollections of the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989.

-If You Have 2 Weeks

Try Paris Perfect for a serviced luxury apartment in the City of Light and private guided tours.

Experience the cultural highlights of Paris and see the places that played a role in the city’s rich history. With local experts to lead the way, you can explore the sites of the French Revolution, bike the gardens of Versailles, take a day trip to the beaches of Normandy, or brush up on your conversational French while sipping chocolat chaud at a historic café.

-If You Have 4 Weeks

Try Remote Lands for Mandarin language immersion in China.

Practice Chinese daily with a bilingual teacher while touring the country. “You can’t go to classes for eight hours a day,” says Remote Lands founder Catherine Heald. “It’s much better to visit multiple cities and learn the language while also learning about Chinese culture, history, and lifestyle.” Flights, meals, drivers, and guides are all taken care of, as are off-the-beaten-path experiences, such as entry to a secret room in Beijing’s Forbidden City or lunch with a farmer at his home in Guilin—which leaves plenty of time for your kids to show off their growing vocabularies over hot-pot dinners.

-If You Have 52 Weeks

Try Small World Travel to go country-hopping with a custom curriculum.

Travel the globe on an educational trip with a specific theme, such as retracing the paths of great explorers or visiting endangered monuments. Small World will handle your itinerary, house rentals, guides, excursions, and lessons. Wait until the kids are in middle school, then plan early (18 months in advance is ideal), pack light, and don’t buy a round-the-world ticket—too inflexible. “Most families want to miss winter, spend more time in cities, and see Africa, Antarctica, and the Galápagos when the season is right,” says owner Samantha McClure.

A Trip with Conscience on Realize Voluntourism Ships

They say that imagination blossoms with imperatives. What’s more, relatively few circumstances are more obliged—more unpreventable and secure—than a boat on the untamed oceans. So as an idea examination, the possibility of a weeklong journey excited me. As a reality, well, I’m an unmarried 29-year-old New Yorker who works at a start-up. My dossier places me miles outside the normal journey taking demographic.

The indifference of millennials like me toward cruising is not lost on industry executives, who are starting to see a market ripe for—you guessed it—disruption. Among these leaders is Tara Russell, president of a new venture called Fathom. The cruise line is a tiny subsidiary of the behemoth Carnival Corporation, and its fleet consists of one ship, the 704-passengerAdonia, which alternates seven-day voyages to the Dominican Republic and Cuba. But what is a small initiative now could have, if it succeeds, very large implications for an industry looking for its next customer base. Instead of casinos, comedians, and show tunes, Fathom offers guests opportunities to build water filtration systems, tutor children, and meet local artists. “Impact travel” is the brand’s stated purpose, and some of the goals include equipping more than 15,000 homes with ceramic water filters and planting 20,000 trees per year.

“We don’t think of it as a cruise,” Russell explained to me aboard Fathom’s second-ever journey to the Dominican Republic, putting air quotes around the word, “but as a travel experience that happens on a cruise.” As we tucked in to Dominican dishes at the ship’s Ocean Grill restaurant, I noticed that Russell, who possesses impressive social-enterprise credentials, spoke about Fathom with the kind of vocabulary that a tech CEO might use to talk about a product in beta. “Everything is so not fully baked yet,” she cheerfully admitted. Still, this trip was version 1.0 of what Russell intends to grow into a category of its own. Every detail has been carefully considered, from the paintings by a Cuban-American artist that hang on the restaurant walls to the Adonia itself, which is a refitted P&O vessel. “Building a new cruise ship takes three years and costs hundreds of millions of dollars,” Russell pointed out. “We found it much more appealing to repurpose an underused asset.”

The impact portion of the trip started as soon as the ship left Miami. Passengers were divided into groups and assigned a guide to facilitate activities and lead icebreaker games. My group included an auto mechanic from Jackson, Mississippi, two Germans, a teenager from Tennessee, a retired couple from New Jersey, and a graphic designer from Brooklyn—not your typical cruise crowd. Our guide, Ricardo, was originally from Colombia. “I feel I am working for travelers, not for tourists,” he explained at the first of three meetings, flattering the group’s collective ego.

It wasn’t your typical cruise atmosphere. Over the three days and some 960 miles of smooth sailing to Puerto Plata—where the volunteering officially began. I curled up in a sunny library stocked with volumes by Michael Pollan and Eckhart Tolle. I grew accustomed to the sight of oiled sun-worshippers lying out on the pool deck, sipping piña coladas while reading the Dalai Lama’s autobiography. Something about the nautical setting lent an appealing dignity to solitude. I was perfectly comfortable eating alone with a book. But all I had to do for company was look up for 10 seconds and make eye contact with someone (literally, anyone) and I had a buddy. This cruise was the opposite of reality television: everyone really is there to make friends.

And the activities were possibly even a gateway to people, like me, who wouldn’t normally cruise. On Fathom, you will watch Winslow Homer sunsets and eat breakfasts of gemlike tropical fruits. But you may also witness a preteen boy’s first epiphany about global inequality over said breakfast: “We are just miles away from people who are starving and we’re eating at a buffet,” one kid announced to his family, with a look that can only be described as “dawning clarity.” When it comes to souvenirs, that’s worth more than a T-shirt.

Tourism can Help Save Australia’s Great Barrier Reef

“Leonie’s our Virgin Mary,” said a man in a Hawaiian shirt, indicating down at a shark hovering in a tank. Her three children originated from flawless origination.”

He clarified that, in a greatly uncommon occasion, they were created with just the hereditary material of a female. That Leonie happens to be a panther shark, purported in view of her chestnut and-cream markings, is the thing that makes you think: Really, Nature? The virgin birth needed to happen in a panther print coat? Isn’t that excessive?

A trip to the Great Barrier Reef is full of these moments when nature shows off in all its abundant weirdness. It’s a slow reveal, though, because after a long flight to Sydney and another journey 1,000 miles up Australia’s eastern coast, you arrive in one of the reef’s gateway towns of Townsville or Cairns and…see nothing. The reef—which stretches for 1,429 miles—is 40 to 150 miles offshore. Most visitors take a day trip out for a brief snorkel. Those who want to fully experience the reef stay on an island, at one of a dozen or so high-end resorts accessible by yacht, helicopter, or private plane.

The inherent challenge of encountering the reef is where the man in the Hawaiian shirt comes in. Fred Nucifora is the director of Reef HQ, which is the official, government-run aquarium of the Great Barrier Reef. It’s a good preliminary stop where you can get to know the reef’s cast of characters that has increased steadily since two devastating cyclones in 2011. Travelers bring in around $2.9 billion for the country’s northeastern economy. In a recent survey of scientists and conservationists on threats to the reef, tourism didn’t even rank in the top five. For one thing, the industry is heavily regulated, because the area has been a government run marine park since the seventies. Around 85 percent of tourists are funneled into the Whitsunday chain of islands, leaving the rest of the reef virtually untouched. The government regulates the number of visitors to diving and snorkeling sites, and instructors are educated to ensure that visitors have minimal contact with the coral. In addition, each visitor to the reef is required to pay a nominal environmental management charge, introduced in 1993.

Hotel development continues apace in this vulnerable part of the world. After the 2011 cyclones, several resorts renovated and a handful of new properties opened. Sometime in the next two years, Aquis, a massive resort financed by the Chinese, will open north of Cairns. These hotels have, for the most part, become ever more luxurious as well as increasingly ecologically attuned. And perhaps their most important role is to allow visitors to see the startling evidence of our warming planet for themselves

As we were leaving Reef HQ, Nucifora and I passed by the aquarium’s hospital for turtles. He stopped to introduce a new patient: a baby turtle he thinks is a hybrid of the green and hawksbill species, “something arguably not seen on earth since the eighties.” It was nice to get some good news before leaving the mainland with two objectives in mind: to check out the reef’s newest and most luxurious hotels and to see how they’re operating against the backdrop of this disappearing natural wonder.

The islands from which the reef is accessible, more than 600 in all, are mostly uninhabited, and those catering to travelers show off just how much beauty is still apparent both above and below the water. Nowhere is this more evident than at Lizard Island: the resort sits on the edge of an island otherwise reserved as national parkland, and is a 60-minute charter flight from Cairns over a storybook landscape of turquoise sea and green mountains.

Lizard, the northernmost resort, is one of only a handful situated on the Great Barrier Reef itself. What this means for a visitor is a much shorter ride out to one of the world’s most famous dive sites—one that’s arguably the jewel in the reef’s crown. Early one morning, I joined a group of five divers, flanked by six crew members, and headed out to the legendary Cod Hole on a 56-foot dive boat, the Serranidae.

Out at the Cod Hole I saw a mix of hard coral, which can resemble blocks of honeycomb, or sometimes a beehive, and the soft kind, which wave back and forth like ferns. There were pastels—which bring to mind flowers, like lavender or heliotrope—as well as traffic-light fluorescents of orange and yellow. There was barely any bleaching. (The area most affected is the reef’s northernmost quarter, which is 93 percent bleached and not accessible to most tourists.)

All of a sudden, a potato cod emerged from the depths, pursing its spectacular Kylie Jenner lips. A strange thought drifted by: everyone around me was eating. There were tiny Nemo look-alikes nibbling; two reef sharks cruised for something more substantial; even the coral themselves, undulating in the water, are always feeding.

Back on the boat, the Lizard Island staff had read my mind and laid out a spread on white linen not often seen on the high seas. There were tureens of antipasti, juicy Australian prawns, salad, sushi, passion fruit, and papaya. When the boat returned to the resort a few hours later, it dropped anchor about 30 yards from the beach. There was still a lot of seafood left over from lunch, so when a tawny nurse shark came to greet the boat one crew member knew what to do. Overboard went prawns and prosciutto and crab. Other fish joined the feast, but the nurse shark was the star of the show. It even agreed to be scratched on its smooth, flat face while snacking away. “Even the sharks here are five star,” said the instructor as the sleek gray form glided away.

It sounds strange to say a resort is up to shark standards, but here we are: Lizard Island is a consummate exercise in discreet, environmentally conscious luxury. (Hidden behind the resort itself are generators enabling full self-sufficiency, both for water and electricity.) After the destruction of the cyclones and a $50 million renovation, the resort reopened in 2015 with 40 rooms spread across white weatherboard structures, some arranged in pairs along the gentle curve of Anchor Bay and others, featuring plunge pools, on a bluff overlooking boulder-strewn Sunset Beach. In the middle is the main pavilion, where outside of mealtimes, petulant seagulls congregate alongside businesspeople desperate for a fix of the island’s Wi-Fi. (There is no signal in the rooms.) The food was much better than I expected, given the obvious logistical challenges. Red emperor, saddle tail snapper, and coral trout are flown in daily from the mainland, and a barge comes by once a week with other supplies, all from the area around Cairns and its surrounding tablelands, to keep down the total carbon footprint. The executive chef, Mark Jensen, prepared refined, even cautious dishes: oysters with a dash of nahm jim, salt-and-pepper squid, cheese plates, and affogatos in place of fruity tropical desserts.

The rooms were understated, too, in a muted palette of white, sand, and gray, with hidden appliances. While the daybeds in the villas were an inspired touch, ideal for observing the sunset, the minimalist suites seemed designed to encourage guests to go outside and underwater. Even the pool appeared to be an afterthought, set back from the beach. Fair enough. When else will you get the chance to swim into a garden of coral pulsating with color, teeming with life?

Orpheus Island, farther south and closer to the coast, is a short helicopter ride from Townsville. Like most resorts, Orpheus is not actually on the reef itself. Instead, the island is surrounded by fringing reefs. Frankly, these smaller, stand-alone reefs are just as spectacular to anyone but the most serious of scuba divers.

With a capacity of 28 guests, the service was rapid and attentive. The rooms themselves were cookie-cutter seaside, but the beautiful communal areas encouraged lingering: a 45-by-82-foot infinity pool from which to spot bait fish leaping out of the ocean; plentiful hammocks from which to gaze up at the ospreys soaring overhead; a spectacular fixed jetty used for private dinners where the only sound is the gentle splash of the resort’s pet barramundi.

Unfortunately for wild barramundi, the chef knew exactly what to do with them, which was to pan-sear them and serve them with a saffron bisque reduction and calamari curried risotto. The resort’s opening chef, Arie Prabowo, worked under Cheong Liew in Melbourne, who is regarded as the father of Asian fusion in Australia. At first, the rotation through a different ethnic cuisine every day at lunch seemed strange. But guests at Orpheus generally stay longer than they would on other islands (up to 10 days), and so the variety of food turned out to be a boon.

Befitting the vibe of determined relaxation, there is only one daily activity offered. One day, the resort’s marine biologist led a walking tour of a giant clam garden just offshore. The tide was low, and most of the 300 clams were completely out of the water, enabling a closer look at their strange, slightly ominous makeup. When opened, the clams displayed a velvety mass of flesh colored emerald green, or indigo, or scarlet.

Farther south at Hayman Island, in the Whitsunday Islands, there are so many activities that the staff provides a daily schedule. Hayman is one of the newest resorts from One&Only. Though there are some reasonably priced day trips, a vacation on Hayman is less focused on the reef and more on cultivating relaxation amid what is unquestionably the most attractive terrestrial landscape of the resorts I visited.

The sand on the beaches appeared pearly white from a distance; up close, it was dotted with colorful crushed shells that resemble the toppings of an everything bagel. The lush rain-forest setting, kept green thanks to recycled water, obscured the buildings, many of which were built in 1950 and renovated by One&Only when it took over in 2014. One area, called the Hayman Pool Wing, is an enormous geometric marvel crisscrossed with pedestrian bridges; a central lanai with eight beach villas; and the Hayman wing, which retains a mid-century appearance. (Though it doesn’t have the pared-down look of an eco-conscious resort, it makes efforts to minimize waste—even the cooking oil is recycled into biofuel.)

When One&Only transformed the property, it reduced the number of rooms from 210 to 160. A spectacular breakfast buffet was included, but for other meals, a reservation at one of the on-site restaurants was required. Bamboo, an Asian restaurant lit with paper lanterns, lacked atmosphere—I found it hard to remember I was in a remote paradise, even when enjoying an excellent rendition of crispy pork belly. Bar Fifty, a high-end cocktail bar, suffered from a similar problem; better to order a piña colada in a coconut stamped with the resort’s name to sip by the pool. In fact, you might find it hard to leave one of the poolside cabanas, though the outstanding spa, featuring clinical-grade pedicures by a French technician, was temptation enough to eventually move me.

On my final day at Hayman, a stroll along the beach reminded me why we had come all this way in the first place: I saw a tiny, scaly head bob out of the water every few minutes—a sea turtle. The Great Barrier Reef has six of the world’s seven varieties, one of which cannot be found anywhere else: the marine flat back. Environmentalists don’t call them “charismatic megafauna” for nothing. Just that one glimpse of green was enough for reality to come flooding back. The bleaching, the mining, the madness we have inflicted on this turtle and his home. Tourism used to be part of the problem, back in the days when tramping over the coral was permitted, and the bottoms of boats scraped the shallow seabed. These days, a trip to the reef is an educational experience, a stark reminder of what’s at stake for our rapidly warming planet. Its fragile beauty inevitably converts visitors into evangelists, ready to preach the gospel of a more sustainable future long after the sand is gone from their shoes. “The reef my children see will be different,” Fred Nucifora had said, back at Reef HQ. The time to see it is now.