Meet Mel Ripp

I grew up (and now live there again!) in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin—the only city in Door County, Wisconsin. Door County is very much a “vacation paradise” in its own right—300 miles of shoreline, more lighthouses than you can throw a bunch of seaglass at, and plenty of cute shops, restaurants, and art galleries to explore. It’s a huge draw for people from all over Wisconsin, as well as visitors from all over the midwest.

It’s a beautiful place to grow up and be a kid—but travel was never part of my language growing up. There wasn’t a ton of money for travel, and it wasn’t something that was super important to my family at the time. What WAS part of my language was my trusty set of World Book Encyclopedia. I’d pour over the pages that talked about Africa, Asia, and South America, wondering if I’d ever be the kind of person who gets to go to those places. Eight-year-old Mel would be BESIDE herself knowing all the places we’ve been. 

I went to China in 2005—a guy who I’d been dating for about three months asked me if I wanted to join him half-way through a month-long adventure, and…well, of course I did.

My first piece of advice: don’t go to China with a guy you’ve only known for three months. I flew over to meet him, and he promptly got food poisoning at our first meal together, so I essentially toured the country by myself, which was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure for all the reasons you’d expect.

This was the trip that opened my aperture, ever so slightly. It made me want to travel to the “hard” places. It taught me how resilient I actually was—I could have stayed in my hotel room, but I insisted on being in the mix of the country every day. It’s also where I learned the term “retrospective appreciation.” Sometimes you’re in too much culture shock when you visit a place to enjoy it while you’re in it—and then you come home and realize you’ve been savoring every memory. That’s what China was to me. 

No idea—probably that I’m a big weirdo that has NO shame about her weirdness? I also hope people find me funny, because I think I’m hilarious. ;) 

All kidding aside, I’ve been told that people appreciate my curiosity, and how I make them feel heard and seen by bringing them into conversations. I’m also vulnerable to a fault—ask anything about my life story, and you’ll get the unabridged version (be warned!).

I have a weird stomach. I'll mostly leave it at that—but the short version is that in both Morocco and Kenya I've had to make the travel van pull over so I could sprint off somewhere and handle things before…there was a SHITuation. 

I used to get super embarrassed about this, but hey—bodily functions get really strange on international trips. Blame it on the different time zone, the different food, the different everything. Your stomach might have opinions about all of it, and as a trip leader, I will be VERY empathetic to your tummy struggles.

Not a whole meal, but two words: Malanga Fritters in Cuba. I’ve had the pleasure of having these twice, and chances are if you sat next to me, you had to guard your plate. These fritters are served with this oil/vinegar dipping sauce with fresh herbs, and OMG my mouth is watering just thinking about these. 

Also, I still think about the very first Moroccan tagine I had in 2023. It was chicken, preserved caramelized lemons, and green olives. My olive-loving, umami-obsessed taste buds have still not fully recovered.

This might sound strange, but I don’t do a lot of homework. Sure, I research weather, and if I need to get a visa or if there’s something that I could pack that would make my trip easier, but I’m not out here cramming on the history and culture of a place like I’m going to get quizzed on it. 

I’ve always been of the belief that too much knowledge can keep you from relating openly and authentically to a place. I like to remain a tiny bit ignorant about a destination I’m traveling to—it helps me arrive with fewer expectations.

One of the most impactful moments on a past trip was my first trip to Cuba in 2025. I was talking with Andres, our Cuban guide. Andres had been trying to leave the island with his husband and get to Spain to lead a better life. He told us, “Cubans don’t often have doors—we have windows.” Meaning, they don’t get to leave, but they do get to see out. 

It made me realize how much I think about how I’m limited—by where I live, the past decisions I’ve made—and here was this guy who hadn’t left his country of origin—EVER—in 38 years. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such empathy for someone. Andres is in Spain now—and I can’t wait to go visit him there someday!

In no particular order: Mary Oliver, women business owners and entrepreneurs (my “day job” is as a business owner who helps women find their voice and get it out into the world with written content), so I think women business owners are the smartest people in the world, Beyonce, anyone who has the power to get out of a cult (BIG cult documentary lover over here), and my late Gamma Bernice who was always scared out of her mind but did the thing anyway.