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Add a fabulous dimension to your trip by planning it around a festival. So it was the last time I traveled to India (a birthday present from my beloved nephew Brian Healy). Our destination was Hampi, the vast ruin on the Deccan plateau that is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Brian arranged to visit during Holi, the ancient Hindu festival celebrating the triumph of good over evil. But that description fails to portray how much sheer fun it is....     What a blast! Before we set out, we had joked about Holi hijinks in Hampi. To celebrate, merrymakers throw colored powder on each other as they dance in the street. I wore a pair of old white drawstring pants and the white tunic bought for $1.70 at the Charminar market in Hyderabad, no good clothes ruined for me. We mistakenly purchased colored powder in little plastic bags, the clumpy kind instead of the finer powder sold in aluminum foil packets. Still, we had our ammunition.   It was a mob scene of hundreds of powder-throwing revelers, and lots of Westerners hoisting Indian children aloft on their shoulders. Our favorite character was a tall British woman with a scarf covering most of her face, who wasn’t having any of it.  Finally, she could no longer resist the Holi spirit and cracked, joining in the hilarity. A little scamp with pleading eyes implored me to give him some of my powder. I did, and he threw it in my face! LOL: Pranks are part and parcel of Holi.   The crowd was building to unmanageable levels, until the police finally thinned it out by blowing whistles from a balcony, where they also removed a number of fervent photographers. Once the balcony was cleared, the police snapped their own pictures.   Celebrants stopped us several times to pose for selfies. The funniest was a reveler wiping Brian’s face and planting purple powder on his front teeth, which he could not remove for love or money. After the police broke up the crowd, it reconfigured itself, and moved on to the temple where the music and dancing re-commenced in even louder and wilder form. We did a few more re-location stints  – then we took a tuk-tuk back to our lavish digs. In the hotel lobby, Brian posed with his arms akimbo baring his full frontal Holi powder-covered bod, while I posed with the tuk-tuk driver.   What a memory to retrace in more somber moments.   EXPLORE

When it comes to celebrating Easter in Italy, there’s no such thing as “too much.” The island of Sicily, sitting right off the tip of the boot, is no exception. Here, Settimana Santa, or Holy Week, traditions go back centuries and take months of planning, coordination, and rehearsal for the big event each year.      Perhaps one of the most beautiful and ancient festivities can be found in Enna, the so-called navel of Sicily. Cries of “Buona Pasqua" (Happy Easter) echo through the streets like rounds of song the whole week through and it feels like every one of its 27,000 residents is involved in some way. Visitors flock from around the world for this most extravagant of displays and it’s truly worth the trip.        A week of elaborate ceremonies commences on Palm Sunday (the Sunday before Easter), lasting each day from dawn to dusk. Scheduled proceedings include a live reenactment of Jesus’s arrival in Jerusalem, various parades between the 16 churches in town, decorating altars, foot washing rites, and, of course, music. The jam-packed itinerary is organized and carried out by Enna’s collection of confraternities or brotherhoods. These are no small clubs either with membership reaching over 2,500.    The real apex of Holy Week hits on Good Friday and it is a sight to behold. With thousands of incappucciati, or hooded members of the confraternities, flooding the streets of Enna the day is solemn, profound, and even a little creepy!      The ornate Duomo di Enna serves as a centerpiece of the day; the beginning and endpoint of the famed processione.      Enna’s streets are lined with eager onlookers who arrive to claim their seats well before things get underway. If you get there early enough, you might have time to grab a hearty arancini (fried risotto ball) from one of the many hole-in-the-wall cafés.     Or toast the day with an Aperol Spritz--the rich orange-colored cocktail topped with a signature Sicilian blood orange.  While the scene is packed, the crowd remains relatively silent as the mournful melody of the band resounds and the brothers begin their miles-long procession. In pointed hoods and colorful robes representing their different affiliations, the brothers sway under the weight of the massive statues of Addolorata (Holy Mary) and the Misteri (Passion of Christ) that they carry through the historic squares. Somehow, it feels both like a party and a funeral with excitement and sorrow simultaneously filling the air.       Day fades to night and the procession continues by torchlight. Lit torches suddenly line the streets and appear clutched in the hands of the marching participants. Ghostly and enchanting, the statues seem to float above their devoted handlers, gradually making their way back to the Duomo. As the mounted torches flicker and wane, the city empties as quickly as it filled up. But there’s no reason to clear out just yet. Not without a meal. Enna is also home to its fair share of delicious dining experiences boasting long legacies. There’s a theme here. Ristorante Centrale is located in the heart of the city and has been since the early 1900’s. This modest venue is the go-to for homemade dishes and long standing local culinary traditions. And what says “Buona Pasqua" better than a full plate of pasta? EXPLORE

I HAD A FEAST IN AFRICA.  No ordinary feast, mind you – I was the luncheon guest of Pat Cavendish O’Neill, heiress and author of A Lion in the Bedroom, an utterly charming and juicy chronicle of the lavish life she led as the daughter of one of Britain’s most famous beauties, Enid Lindeman (of the Australian wine family). Pat’s mother married four times – two titles without money and two billionaires without titles, all of whom died prematurely. When, through one of her marriages, Enid became Lady Kenmare, her popular, novelist friend Somerset Maugham dubbed her “Lady Killmore.” The event was held on the edge of Africa – at Pat O’Neill’s farm, Broadlands, in Somerset West, one of the wine-growing regions of South Africa’s Western Cape.  Some 15 dogs trotted up the long, tree-lined drive to greet us. At that time Pat was 84, still young, still interested in everything, and still a beauty in her own right—no one has such wide-set pale blue eyes. “I’ve had a wonderful life" she said, ushering us to the shaded pool-side terrace. Forty years ago Pat and her mother moved from Kenya’s Happy Valley to Broadlands, a stud farm outside of Cape Town, for her mother’s health and at the behest of Beryl Markham, aviatrix, horse trainer, and a reputed lover of Denys Finch Hatton—yes, Karen Blixen’s Finch Hatton (remember the film Out of Africa?). Beryl told Pat: “Broadlands has a wonderful paddock and horses, white fencing, and trees everywhere.” Like Beryl, Pat and her mother raised champion thoroughbreds and, like Beryl, Pat fell in love with South Africa. After lunch, we toured the grounds of Broadlands to see Pat’s menagerie (and I don’t mean the glass kind)—four baboons, assorted goats, donkeys, hogs, cattle, 14 cats, 60 vervet monkeys, and another 20-odd canines. Pat rescued every last animal except for one magnificent dog, an English mastiff called Cash, so named because it’s the only creature she ever paid for. The walls of the drawing room are hung to the rafters with oils and watercolors anchored by a portrait of Pat and Tana, her beloved pet lioness who, she said, “taught me the beauty of Africa.” Tables are adorned with photographs of Fred Astaire, Gary Cooper, Grace Kelly, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.  There are paintings of her mother and paintings by her mother, of whom she said, “Men just adored her. Once they fell, they fell for the rest of their lives” (foreshortened though they might be). Sadly, Pat was swindled out of her $100 million inheritance by a series of crooked accountants and was forced to sell Broadlands, but she did so with the proviso that she could live out the rest of her days there. She’s now 93 and has opened the Pat O’Neill Sanctuary to make sure her beloved pets are and will be cared for. While you may not get to see Pat’s amazing farm, you will be able to see some other fabulous estates in Somerset West.  One of my favorites was the sublime Morgenster Wine & Olive Oil Estate, a half-hour’s drive from Cape Town.  It’s an incredibly beautiful vineyard dating to 1711. Morgenster Wine & Olive Oil Estates Go, not only for the beauty of the grounds, not only for a tasting of the excellent Bordeaux-style wines but for a formal taste-test of Morgenster’s extraordinary, award-winning olive oils. And, while you’re there, don’t fail to savor Morgenster’s excellent balsamic vinegar. I brought home a bottle for one of my sisters and it was a huge hit.  Here’s a tip from the estate: “Heating Balsamic will intensify the sweetness and reduce the acidity. A teaspoon of Balsamic vinegar will wake up the flavor of any bland soup, stew or sauce. A dash of Balsamic vinegar on freshly sliced fruit (especially strawberries) with or without a sprinkling of sugar will enhance the flavors and have you shouting for more." Another must-visit wine-growing region to meander through is Stellenbosch. One of its most vaunted venues is the Delaire Graff Estate.  British diamond king Lawrence Graff reclaimed a beautifully-sited old vineyard and built a magnificent, art-filled hotel on the grounds. The picturesque Delaire Graff Estate (Image by Delaire Graff Estate) If you can’t afford to stay there, at least go for lunch on the terrace – the food is excellent and you will be surrounded by nature at her prettiest. Needless to say, Graff opened a diamond boutique on the premises – in case you need a 40-carat fix while you’re quaffing that good sauvignon blancs. Portrait of Lawrence Graff beside the Diamond Boutique at Delaire Graff Estate  (Image by Delaire Graff Estate) South Africa’s coastal areas are as phenomenally beautiful as its wine lands.  To kill two birds with one stone, I suggest you have lunch at Harbour House on the bustling (and touristy) V&A Waterfront– not so much for the food which is ok – but for the views of the ocean that are a feast for the eyes.  RELATED PRODUCTS

Epic itinerary on thecollegeprepster.com. And the photos from the couple's trip on @Carly & @juliahengel feeds are not to be missed! ✨  

This lovely bride-to-be recently shared her photos with the Jet Set Candy team of her FCO luggage tag charm, which she personalized with the date of her engagement, and we couldn't get enough of her!  Sydney is a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, is currently a dancer for the Dallas Mavericks, and owns a sports-based clothing company under the name of Live Love Gameday. The 26-year-old southern sweetheart is a native of Texas, currently living in Dallas with her fiancé. Sydney's proposal story is the  fairytale that most women dream of. To Sydney and Jay: It doesn't matter where you're going, it's who you have beside you. We wish you immeasurable happiness, and a marriage full of love and laughter. Congratulations on your greatest adventure!