Travellerblogue

Moving On (Up?)

2008-05-22T18:34:00.001-04:00

So in honor of a new resolve to write some more, and a scheme to turn a lightly-traveled year into fodder for hometown writing, this site is migrating to a new service and address: http://philatraveler.wordpress.com/

See you there!

Peru: Incas, Sloths, and a little Espanol

2008-04-24T18:01:00.008-04:00

I have been quite neglectful in writing about our recent (increasingly less recent) trip to Peru. Before I tackle the trip in-depth, I thought I'd post a little teaser of our trip. We spent a spell in Cusco for some relaxation and Spanish lessons, hiked the Inca Trail, spent an indulgent night at Machu Picchu, took the train to Lake Titicaca for some kayaking about, jetted to the Amazon for some flora and fauna and a dose of rain, and then wrapped up in cosmopolitan Lima.

Cali Style: Wine tasting in Santa Barbara and Santa Monica treats

2008-03-11T20:12:00.004-04:00

So a week ago I took a little weekend jaunt to visit friends who live in Santa Monica. Aside from the general shock to the system of sunshine (I feel like a mole squinting in the sun when I go somewhere warm this time of year), we had a lovely and mellow time. We had a few choice treats in Santa Monica and spent a lovely Saturday exploring Santa Barbara wineries – an area made popular by the movie Sideways, but one I’d never been to. So, without further ado, a short commentary on finds:

Santa Monica treats:

Vanilla Bake Shop (512 Wilshire). Now, I’ve been to my fair share of cupcake joints, having lived in New York during the whole height of the Magnolia Bakery craze, but this joint has something going for it. In a completely genius move, in addition to regular cupcakes, they make mini versions. This not only allows you to taste more cupcakes with reduced calorie-guilt, but also allows them to charge even more per bite. Everyone wins! Although the red velvet cupcake could have used a little more cream and a little less sugar in its icing, the highlight was the Strawberries & Cream. It was a little bit of extra-light shortcake, a little bit of fresh whipped cream, and some fresh strawberry. Sure, it wouldn’t travel well, but it was a delicious afternoon treat. So thumbs up.

Santa Barbara Wine Tasting:

Los Olivos Café and Wine Merchant (2879 Grand Ave. in Los Olivos). A lovely wine country lunch spot on the main drag in Los Olivos. A satisfying burger to fortify ourselves for tasting and tasty pizzas. It’s attached to a well-stocked wine store with decent prizes and a deep selection of California wines, from Santa Barbara and beyond.

Consilience Wine Tasting Room. Just down Grand Ave. from the café, this was our first stop and, frankly, disappointing. I was eager when they had a Petite Sirah on their tasting list (j’aime petit sirah), but their wines were generally very high in alcohol and the 2005’s, the bulk of their tastings, were a bit young for drinking. But – the young woman manning the tasting room was delightful.

Daniel Gehrs Wines. Further down Grand Ave. was this tasting room, with serious Kenny Loggins playing in the background. The highlight was their 2005 Fireside Port from Amador County, served with a chunk of dark chocolate. However, it took serious restraint to keep myself from buying a case of their 2005 Paso Robles Syrah, for which they were running a case special of $10 a bottle.

Alma Rosa Winery. (7520 Santa Rosa Road in Buellton). Once we ventured out of Los Olivos and into the countryside, we headed to this gem, up a winding dirt road, over a stream (seriously) and in a cabin on the side of a hill. In addition to the fattest cat I have ever seen (apparently from eating picnic scraps) and the nicest porta-potties I’ve encountered (technology has definitely advanced), Alma Rosa had some delightful wines. Definitely a good picnic spot if it’s that kind of day. The hands down highlight was their 2005 Santa Rita Hills Pinot Noir, and their 2006 Santa Rita Hills Pinot Blanc wasn’t half bad either.

Sanford Winery. (5010 Santa Rosa Road). Further down the winding Santa Rosa Road is this operation, somewhat slicker than the others. Apparently the Alma Rosa folks started this place, then sold out to a big company and moved down the road. It was pretty crowded by mid-afternoon, but still a friendly place. We were especially enamored with the chocolate covered blueberries on the tasting bar. A favorite (and bargain) here was their 2006 Sauvignon Blanc from the Santa Ynez Valley.

Fiddlehead Cellars. (606 Penna Drive in Davis). This place is so classic California wine boom. It’s basically a small warehouse space in one of those strips of warehouses where you’d find the UPS store next to a dog food distributor. What was so perfect was when we pulled up there were two Porsches out front – a convertible and an SUV – and their corresponding 50-something couples inside. The tasting room was manned by a delightful portly fellow, and won the award for best wines of the day. Their 2007 Pink Fiddle Rose, using Pinot Noir, was a smashing hit and their 2004 Seven Twenty Eight Pinot Noir, from the Santa Rita Hills was terrific. Certainly one of the day’s lessons was that the Santa Rita Hills make a decent Pinot Noir.

Road Trip: France, Part Three

2008-03-09T17:00:00.007-04:00

The third and final installment of Road Trip: France saw us headed south in the trusty Renault Twingo to Bordeaux, Languedoc and Provence.

Although we were poor young folks, Bordeaux was surprisingly accessible. We stayed at the completely delightful Chateau de Foulon where we had an apartment complete with little kitchen and sitting room for under $100 a night (although, admittedly, was this before the dollar went to crap). We had wonderful breakfasts in the main chateau with the other guests in the regal dining room and the Count even came in to say hello before heading out to ride his horse one morning. There were great grounds that you could wander around with a little pond and a picturesque crumbling barn and peacocks and swans wandering about. Divine.

We made a loop of the Margaux region's wineries with the assistance of the tourism authority's vineyard map. Chateau Giscours probably had the best tour and facility, but our absolute favorite was Chateau Lascombes. This vineyard makes a grand cru wine (the fanciest - I'll save the discourse on appellations for another time) and doesn't really give walk-in tours, so was completely quiet, yet somehow they took pity on us and showed us around. We ended buying serious bottles here, although I think this vineyard is still a good bargain as it's not the fanciest or best known.

Having had our fill of tannins, we headed south into the not-as-travelled Languedoc region. In the interest of full disclosure, our next step was seriously in the hinterlands. It took champion navigational skills and a lot of windy mountain roads to find our way to La Cerisaie, a B&B in the small town of Riols. There's not much doing in this neck of the woods, but it was Bastille Day when we visited, so we were treated to the local parade down the middle of the village complete with firecrackers going off every which way. Complete with a pool and a delicious in-house restaurant, La Cerisaie was a great little escape. I imagine we could have filled a few more days with some ambling into the hills and sipping wine on the terrace.

But we had tracks to make, so after a detour to Barcelona, which is a tale for another time, we made our way to Provence. Specifically, another B&B gem called Le Mas de la Tour in the small town of Fontvieille, outside of Arles. This place was classic - provencal fabrics in the room, a warm pool outside and breakfast under the arbor. We had a perfect day trip to Arles to see the forum, buy some gifts, and while away the day in a cafe. It's also great hiking, jogging, walking country. We explored the local Montmajour abbey, took in the daily market, and generally enjoyed the loveliness of Provence.

Unfortunately the French road trip had to end too soon (although the auto adventures continued later in Italy), so our last leg was a drive to Nice, complete with insane laps of the city trying to find the train station, a day wandering the waterfront waiting for our overnight train to Rome, and general overload of summer tourism in Europe after weeks in the quiet countryside.

On the practical side: there are three key tips for a French road trip. First, Autoeurope typically has really good long term car rental rates. Second, the Rivages guide (now published in English by Fodors as the Rivages Guide to Bed and Breakfasts of Character and Charm, but more frequently updated in the French version or on the website) is indispensable. We found each place we stayed from this book, including places called only the night before. It is now referred to among the inner circle as "The Magic Book". Third, Michelin maps cannot be beat and the Michelin website has great maps for travel planning.

All in all, I'm a big fan of the European road trip as, not only does it make me use my limited foreign language skills, but it is far less likely that you will find yourself at a table next to an American couple and far more likely that you'll stumble into those delightful, unpredictable experiences that just don't happen on the well-trod path.

What's Next

2008-02-07T16:38:00.000-05:00

This is where we're going for the big 2008 trip. Yippee Indian Ocean!

Road Trip: France, Part Two

2008-02-04T12:18:00.000-05:00

So I started to relate the tale of a trip of yore - the road trip through France. After our run through Bretagne, we headed east into the Loire Valley.

Our home away from home was a gem in Cravant les Croteaux, just outside of Chinon, called Domaine de Pallus. Since we have been there, one of the next generation has returned home to the family vineyards that surround the inn and launched a rather successful effort to increase the profile of their wines, under a label of the same name. It appears that the inn has been opened under new ownership as Les Camelias des Pallus.

The town of Chinon itself is a cute afternoon's wander, with the Chinon castle at the top of the hill overlooking town. A culinary highlight was a little restaurant called Les Annees 30 at 78 Rue Voltaire, where we stuffed ourselves full of duck and the like.

We spent a few days taking the trusty Twingo down country roads to see some of the lovely Loire castles. A highlight in the summer is that the roads are spotted with sunflower fields, adding much to the atmosphere. The top three were definitely Chenonceau castle, Azay le Rideau and the gardens at Villandry. You could do all of these in a full day from Chinon - driving the hour and half to Chenonceau, then working your way west to Villandry and then to Azay le Rideau.

Chenonceau is about an hour and a half from Chinon along smaller roads. It's spectacularly set, as it's built over the Cher river. As it was raining the day we were there, we spent little time in the formal gardens and instead wandered the rambling interior. One particularly entertaining part, as with most historic sites in France, was the number of teenage employees standing around doing nothing save occasionally collecting a ticket. As two friends at the time were living in France and taking advantage of all of the benefits of the country's socialist tendencies, I quickly learned that this was part of the subsidies an aimless teenager can count on. As a tradeoff for the educational subsidies, living stipends, rent discounts, health care, and whatever else these teenagers were getting from the government, they had to agree to work a government job. And, unsurprisingly, there weren't enough jobs for all these people, so the government created jobs to do such things as stand around chateaus. I'd sign up for that in a minute.

We then dodged some rain and had a ramble around the gardens at Villandry. On a lovely day, you could take a picnic and spend hours running around the joint. They're formal "Renaissance" gardens that are a truly spectacular example of the form.

The last gem was Azay le Rideau, a small castle about twenty minutes from Chinon and more or less on the way back from Chenonceau. It's a moody place, surrounded by the Indre River that lends itself to lovely photos. There's a cute little town around it where you can wander about and have a snack. I bought some lovely watercolors from a charming gent whose name is lost to history.

We easily could have spent another few days in the Loire valley, eating delicious picnics and gazing at gardens and fields of flowers. But the road trip marched on. Next stop: Bordeaux.

2007: The Year in Travel

2008-01-28T19:25:00.000-05:00

But - before January ends - 2007: The Year in Review. It wasn't as active a travel year as 2006, but there were some gems.

January saw the New Year dawn on Nantucket Island. We rang in 2007 at Cinco, a delightful tapas joint. You'd think tapas on Nantucket would be sort of odd, but it's not. It's good.

Late January was the ill-fated annual Vermont ski weekend. Ill-fated because a benign sledding trip to the local golf course led me straight to the emergency room and some nice hardware I'm still toting around in my ankle. Not that I was ever a skier, but that pretty much sealed the deal.

It is no great surprise, then, that February and March were light on travel. Crutches can do that to a girl.

Luckily, all was redeemed with the April trip to Croatia with a brief run through Slovenia. Delightful.

May and June were chock full of time in Pennsylvania for work. Let's just say I don't have a lot to say about Wilkes-Barre. Hampton Inn isn't too bad. Enough said.

There was an upswing in June with a wedding in Berkeley followed by a few days in Napa Valley. Much eating and drinking. Lots of sun. Can't go wrong.

August saw a baby shower in Boston early on. Then, at the end of the month, a lovely week in Nantucket, doing the lazing about thing. Complete with a visit to what I still maintain is the best restaurant on the island - Oran Mor. Foie gras with figs on Portugese toast - done and done.

In October it was off for a month in Peru. Many details to follow. Learned a little Espanol, hiked some mountains, ate some guinea pig, saved a sloth.

One more trip in December to Nantucket and then we wrapped the year with visitors in our new hometown, Philadelphia.

So, the updated map of the world:

And we're back!

2008-01-28T18:48:00.000-05:00

It wasn't planned this way, but it's been a fair while since I've posted. A series of life events seem to have drawn time away. But - new year, new postings! Luckily there's been some travelling of late. Stay tuned for some oldies but goodies that never quite made it up before - and the first jaunt to South America.

Road Trip: France, Part One

2007-07-03T15:47:00.000-04:00

Seeing as it's summer, the time for road trips, and my next trip isn't for a few weeks, I thought I'd recant a tale of old.

Once upon a time, some gal pals and I took a jaunt through France. Somewhat by design, and somewhat inadvertently, it was the perfect combination of pace and lack thereof. And it all went down in a stylish purple Twingo. (That’s a super small Renault car, for those who have not had the pleasure of renting in Europe before.) The itinerary went something like this.

Start: Paris. Two of the four of us resided in Paris back in those days, so there it began. Since Frank no longer has her divine little apartment in Montmartre, a current adaptation would involve charming Paris hotel of choice.

We rented a car, via Europcar from a location near the Bois du Bologne and set off. Note (and this is a all-encompassing note for foreign car rentals): European cars have funny little tricks to make the gear shift go in reverse. Sometimes it’s a button on the top of the stick shift. Sometimes it’s a little thing around the shaft that you have to slide up. Sometimes it’s a little button on the bottom of the knob at the top of the shift. Yes, this is as obscene as it sounds. So, anyways, before attempting to get out of a parallel parking space on a Paris city street, identify the funny little trick.

First leg: North to Normandy.

So we headed due North and did a fly by of the Normandy beaches, which were quite dramatic. Plus one of us was in a serious post-Saving Private Ryan WWII buff phase then, so Normandy was a must see. Lacking a place to stay that night, a combination of French proficiency and divine providence landed us at a little inn on the way to Mont Saint Michel - Hotel de la Croix d'Or in Avranches. A cute little Tudor inn, arranged around a courtyard of hydrangeas with a tasty traditional French restaurant. A find that could not have been duplicated if we tried. Plus it appears to still be well under 100 euros a night.

The next day we crawled out of bed at an ungodly hour and beat the crowds to Mont St Michel. Ever since the seventh grade, when I spent long hours in French class staring at a poster of the same, I'd been rather intrigued by the town and church piled onto a little island just off the west coast of Normandy. Unfortunately, the day we were there it was pouring and freezing. But we soldiered our way up the hill, did the requisite church and abbey tour and then huddled over cafe cremes in a cafe.

Leg Two: Brittany.

So for a variety of complicated reasons, we didn't plan too far in advance for the Brittany leg and through some combination of my bad French and perhaps some misrepresentative advertising, the four of us showed up at the B&B where we were supposed to be staying to find out that it was basically an extra bedroom in this old lady's house. So, after the better-French-speaking of us suffered through a night of hearing about this gentlewoman's various extremist separatist views, we cut our stay short and moved on to Concarneau. The last minute replacement lodgings bear no special mention, but Concarneau is a quiet seaside town with excellent oysters, ramparts to climb on, and good paths along the water for jogging and strolling.

We spent a day in Quimper, seeing the cathedral, wandering through the covered market and buying lace from the little old ladies in their shops. Then it was on to Pont Aven - town of artists and former abode of Gauguin, now filled with shops selling watercolors and galettes (tasty buttery cookies), but all still scenically perched over the Aven river. A good day trip, especially for the rainy day that we had. We hit some shops, checked out the contemporary art museum, and had a whole lot of chocolat chaud.

Luckily, the next legs of the trip, to the Loire Valley, Bordeaux, and on to the South got a little warmer and drier.

Croatia: Renting from Captain Morgan

2007-05-07T16:52:00.001-04:00

So my fellow traveler has written far more comprehensively about the highs and lows of a week in Istria. Thus, I shall only briefly write my own observations from our week in this lovely Italian-influenced region of Northern Croatia.

The Captain Morgan Myth. Local legend has it that Captain Morgan, he of the rum and other pirate-related fame, came ashore in Croatia and settled in a little town now, predictably enough, called Mrgani. According to at least one local, the myth must have some kernel of truth to it because folks in this town have the surname Morgan, which sure isn’t Croatian.

Anyways, some enterprising locals have renovated a farmhouse in said town and now rent it to mostly British, occasionally American, tourists like us. Thus, we came to rent Villa Captain Morgan. All credit is due to Jon for finding the place, which was ridiculously affordable and lovely. Four sizeable bedrooms, fireplace, good kitchen, pool, trellised yard. Plus very private, as the whole thing was walled in, I presume originally to keep the chickens in, but it works nicely for a vacation house. Mrgani is nothing but quiet – no stores, cafes, nothing – but it is scenic.

There’s also a little gem of a site about ten minutes down into the valley called Dvigrad. It’s a cluster of Roman ruins on a hill and is apparently a town that was abandoned when disease came calling. It is completely unregulated, so there’s no admission fee or sign – you just clamber up the hill and around the ruins. Despite the lack of protections, it’s remarkably well-preserved and a neat, quiet little spot with views of the valley.

The Hill Towns. Due to a period of Roman occupation, Istria has a smattering of hill towns, a few of which we visited. Motovun was cute, although I don’t think it could occupy more than an afternoon. And the German high school tour group that spent the afternoon we were there bellowing drinking songs from the bar at the top of the hill made it rather less quaint than I would have hoped. Nonetheless, a good place for a stroll to the top, a café, and a stroll back down.

We made the, I think it fair to say, mistake of eating at Zigante Restaurant, the self-appointed truffle mecca of the area, just down the hill from Motovun. Now that we’re back, the New York Times tells me we should have eaten at a joint in Motovun called Barbacan. Regardless of whether Barbacan is actually good, the lesson of the truffle restaurant is that the best thing is the truffle cheese, available in any of the tourist food shops on the main drag in Motovun.

We also took a sunset walk through Groznjan, maybe a twenty-five minute drive from Motovun. I wish we would have gone earlier in the day, as the place is chock full of galleries, many of which were closed. Groznjan was even more scenic than Motovun – broad views, little alleys with flowerpots, a church with benches under arching trees, rows of cypress trees on your way out of town. Serious chamber of commerce brochure stuff. Anyways, we didn’t eat there, but the guidebook consensus seemed to be that Bastia, where we had an espresso, is the place to eat.

We did not make it to Opatija, which was a bit further afield, but that was the third of the recommended trifecta of hill towns.

The Seaside Towns. Villa Captain Morgan was about thirty minutes’ drive from the seaside town of Rovinj. I found this place to be a real gem – a peninsula with the church of Saint Euphemia and its campanile on top and Venetian houses cascading down to the rocky shore line. A farmer’s market at the bottom of the hill to keep you well-fed, harborside cafés to keep you caffeinated, and lanes going up and down the hill for some strolling. Not too much to speak of craft and shopping wise, but I suspect with a few more years that will change. If I were a sailor, I think Rovinj would be the perfect port to cruise into for a weekend.

Aside from our farmer’s market shopping, we ate a few meals in Rovinj. As with pretty much all of the restaurants we tried in Istria, a few lessons.

Choose seafood over pasta. Despite the Italian roots, the Eastern European roots seemed to win out most of the time with pasta, resulting in sauces that seemed like they were made with more cornstarch than anything else. Grilled fish, scampi, and octopus, however, was more successful. This was true at Giannino’s (+385 52 813 402) and La Puntulina (+385 52 813 186), the two places we had dinner and Marina Gostionica Osteria (+385 52 811 063), where we had lunch on the harbor.

Stay away from the local varietals. The predominant white grape was Malvazija and the predominant local red was Teran. Neither was very good. Our few wine successes came from ordering a locally made Chardonnay and a dessert wine from Arman vineyards.

Don’t be afraid to choose based on the view. On the whole, the food was not spectacular in Istria, so I would definitely advocate for choosing the best seaside view. We spent a cocktail hour and a subsequent dinner at La Puntulina, a restaurant hanging over the rocks, with the perfect sunset view. Overpriced for the food, but worth it for the location.

Take a boat ride, but bargain with a smaller guy and skip the canal. We hired a boat to take us to the Limski Canal, billed by all the books as being “like a Norwegian Fjord.” But first we tried to take one of the big charter boats, and the people essentially ran away from us instead of bothering to take the boat out with six people. The guys with smaller boats hang around the Rovinj harbor, sometimes with a sign up. I’d bargain them down a bit (I think we paid $20 a person for a few hours), and then take a ride. Skip the Limski Canal, though. The coastal areas and little islands are much more scenic. We didn’t see any for rent, but a sailboat would be ideal, as the waters are pretty calm.

We also spent a day in Pula, at the tip of the peninsula. It has a grand Roman ampitheater, but unless you’re a big ampitheater buff, I’d say skip it if you’ve been to Rome. My takeaway from the visit was that it was interesting that the Romans had made it to Pula and bothered to build a smaller ampitheater there. Pula is nice enough, and a bigger town than Rovinj, but it is a working port, so its seaside areas are neither walkable nor particularly scenic. Mostly due to big shipping cranes all over the place. My view is that a seaside town without much seaside isn’t much worth a visit.

For next time. Things we didn’t do, but I wish we had:

Eaten more donuts. I think the culinary highlight of the trip may have been these little donut holes that were sold by street vendors in Pula and Zminj. Should have had more.

Done some bike riding. The roads from Mrgani north to Motovun and Groznjan would have been great for doing some bike rides. Unfortunately, my gimpiness precluded anything that active.

Spent more time on the water. Although the hill towns were cute, I think the bottom line is that the Adriatic is the real draw in Croatia. It was a bit chilly for swimming and such, but I think any future trip will have to involve sailing.

Spent more time, generally. In keeping with one of my general travel principles, a week is not long enough for a vacation to a new place. Two weeks is better.

Slovenia, in brief

2007-04-20T15:30:00.000-04:00

So I have returned from formerly war-torn nations and shall begin with the few tidbits garnered from a limited visit to Slovenia. I flew London-Ljubljana on Easyjet, and we then drove to the villa we rented in Croatia, so I did get a brief glimpse of what is a surprisingly charming country.

So, first, Ljubljana. I spent just about a day there, and fellow travellers spent a bit more. The consensus is that it is a charming town, perfect for a weekend trip. We stayed at the Antiq Hotel, which was a total find. Antique-filled lobby, generous continental spread in a garden atrium for breakfast, unusually large rooms. And a great location in the old city, about two blocks from the lovely canal-like Ljubljanica River, lined with cafes for a whole day of sitting and sipping.

Our activities were mainly a good wander, but a few sites of note:

Open Air Market. There is a lovely open air market, in a colonnade along the river. It sells the usual tourist items, plus has a produce market in the mornings. Good strolling material. Less on the shopping, as the crafts are still solidly in the territory of every item having "Slovenia" written in rainbow lettering on them.

Salt store. Because we are slaves to the New York Times, we stopped by the reputed Piranske Soline establishment. Basically, it sells salt. But salt that Alain Ducasse likes. Enough said. I bought some for my mom and to keep in my cabinet next to the special paprika I recently received as a gift from Budapest. Clearly both will get much use.

Julija Restaurant (9 Stari Trg. Tel. 01 425 6463). Between the hotel and the river, where we had a lovely dinner of tasty gnocchi and other creamy goodness.

Cafes along the canal. Sit, have some espresso. Walk. Sit, have some more espresso. You get the idea.

Ljubljana castle. We did a drive by of the castle on our way out of town and had a little picnic in the courtyard. It wasn't much in terms of actual sightseeing, but has some nice grounds and a good view of the mountains on a clear day.

One other observation about Ljubljana. Due to its small size and minimal tourist traffic, it is very easy to navigate. The airport is of the small, Easyjet-destination variety. Example: on our way home, we sat at the outdoor cafe in front of the airport and had a drink until our flight boarded. Can't do that at JFK. Driving was also very easy - we picked up from Europcar's downtown office and dropped off a the airport. The city driving was very low key for a European capital (minimal traffic, no honking, very few rotaries) and access to the highway was very straightforward. Also, the Slovenian highway was wide, newly paved, well sign-posted, fast moving, and the toll booths took credit cards. I'm sold.

Okay, one more item. This plaque on the front of a restaurant in Ljubljana. Just makes you wonder.

Second, our pass-through western Slovenia. So we drove to and from Ljubljana by way of the Adriatic coast. As mentioned above, the trip was smooth sailing. I was struck, however, by how picturesque the passing countryside was. I hadn't really focused on it before, but that part of Slovenia was chock full of picturesque villages with a steeple set against the mountain backdrop. Straight up Sound of Music style. So that is a temptation to return. I suspect there is a good road/hiking trip to be had.

On our way back, we made record time, so we took a rest stop at Predjama Castle, by way of Postojna. (where we stopped for pizza at the local sports bar. Which seemed to be owned by some kind of renowned basketball coach. Obviously.) The castle was about 10km from the highway by way of flower-bedecked villages and was quite picturesque. So another discovery is that apparently Slovenia has picturesque castles.

All in all, the moral of the brief taste of Slovenia is that, now that I'm back, I'm tempted to buy a guidebook and plan a trip there.

Dumb things and smart things

2007-04-06T13:34:00.000-04:00

Dramatic injury notwithstanding, I am leaving tomorrow for Slovenia and Croatia. I will freely admit that it is somewhat dumb to be flying by myself across the pond to wander around cobblestoned villages and drive down twisty roads, despite the fact that my walking is somewhere just shy of tortoise pace. But that's how I roll. So off I shall go. On the theme of dumb things to do before a trip, I though I would create some karmic balance and reflect on smart things to do before a trip. Here are some highlights of my particular brand of compulsive travel preparation.

Packing. One of my deeply held principles is to never check luggage. Unfortunately, said principle is utterly thwarted by the new rules for flights headed through the UK (namely, you can carry on your purse/briefcase and that's about it). So intensely irritating. Nonetheless, packing light is a way of life and so I shall persevere. Some key tips:

Put all your clothes on the bed and make sure each top/bottom goes with every other top/bottom. Then, once you have everything laid out, remove one third of the items. A little hyper-structured, I know, but it works.

Only ever pack for 3-4 days. If you're travelling high end/on someone else's dime, just pay the cleaning costs at your hotel. If you're travelling low end, bring a little detergent and wash in the bathtub. Woolite makes genius single use packets. Travel size Johnson's baby shampoo is also an excellent clothes detergent.

Key, of course, is to pack items that won't wrinkle. It's easier for women, but silk knits and cashmere are great. And, although this runs contrary to every "don't look like an American" travel column written from 1950 to 2005, jeans are also great. Don't wrinkle, need minimal washing, and as long as you have a stylish pair, you blend in the European capital of your choice. (And, seriously, I'm never blending in Nairobi or Manila).

Eschew the rolling bag. I will admit I am breaking this rule this time around, due to the limited walking ability and therefore limited carrying ability. But, a soft-sided bag is way better. It is lighter. It can be carried easily on rough terrain. It can be squished into irregular spaces. (See donkey, above). Only potential exception is my beloved Eagle Creek rolling bag that converts to a backpack.

Other fun packing items. In the eternal question for lightness, several other useful items I have found. Little strips of dehydrated hair gel that take up about a centimeter - add water and you have hair goo. Lightweight wool sweaters - work in all temperatures and pack to nothing. Inexpensive bracelets and rings - perk up an outfit, take no space, and you don't care if you lose them. A nylon bag that folds up to nothing in a pouch, but can be used as an extra suitcase on the way home for your impulse purchases.

Key items to keeping it classy, even three weeks into travelling: trench coat, sizable but cute leather purse, cute brightly colored flats, monochromatic clothes (all items either black/grey/white or brown/cream/navy - with the bright flats and cute jewelry, it's perfect), super packable pullover raincoat - for when it's just a downpour, little notebook for jotting down names for your subsequent blog posting, chic tiny digital camera, scarf/pashmina for when there's unanticipated chill. Oh, and an ankle brace so you're not limping down the village road.

Stealing from the internet. Basically, I troll the various free sites and message boards, cut and paste everything about a place into one word document, print it out, and then go through it on the plane and pick out good restaurants, hidden sights, tips, etc. Sounds time intensive, but it's pretty easy to do and then you have this great, eclectic guide for much less than a $30 guidebook.

Maps. So crucial for the independent traveller. For big cities, I buy those laminated city maps - handy for the purse and discrete looking as well as for their street indexes. For driving, you need the seriously detailed (50,000:1 if you can get it) road maps; Michelin if possible. You can buy them online before you guy, thereby reducing the fear of driving factor a notch.

Airplane stuff. So I consider the international flight a personal challenge. At least until I think of my great invention idea and can pay for first class. In the meantime, the following items come with me on the plane:

Eye mask. A nice cotton one so you it doesn't feel yucky.

Ear plugs. Multiple pairs in case you lose one.

Pashmina/shawl. It's definitely always cold.

Tylenol simply sleep. To help things along.

A HUGE bottle of water. Which now you have to pay $7 for inside security. Still crucial. Entire thing must be consumed on a 6ish hour flight (two of them if you're flying to Asia).

Thick socks to put on when you take your shoes off.

Bag to put your shoes in, while off, if they're stinky. Nothing is worse than a seatmate with stinky shoes.

Ipod. With language refresher if you're heading somewhere sans anglais.

Snacks. If it's an overnight flight, oranges or grapes, cheese, some bread, and a little bit of dark chocolate. If it's a daytime flight, more of the above plus some cured meat items.

Book or two. Preferably of the quick read variety.

Toiletry kit. With: hand cream, face cream, toothbrush, lip balm and mascara. So you don't look like complete crap when you land, and your skin doesn't shrivel.

Preventing Disaster. I keep a pdf of my passport, vaccination card, credit card info, and various addresses in my gmail; and leave a paper copy where someone can access it at home. That way when the inevitable moment comes that my purse is snatched, I'm spending less quality vacation time at the nearest American Embassy.

On that note, I'm off to experiment with how people at Heathrow Airport treat a thirty-something with a cane. Tales of travel adventures (finally) to follow upon my return.

Web Travel Fun

2007-02-28T16:01:00.000-05:00

One of my guilty pleasures is surfing travel sites on the web. This habit actually comes in rather handy when I get around to planning trips because I have this little mental rolodex of where I’ll find all the info I need. Some favorites:

For general travel-pondering, I’m deeply addicted to the Fodors message boards. Admittedly, these boards do not skew towards the adventure/backpacker set, but they have great regular personalities and really detailed information in trip reports. No joke, posts have revealed serious gems in Italy.

Along the same lines, the Slow Travel website has great vacation rental reviews for most of Europe.

The king of all review sites, Trip Advisor, is completely addictive. You can read about just about every hotel in the universe here.

The Get Human site is just generally cool – it gives you the secret code for getting an actual human being at all kinds of places.

For road trips, especially in Europe, the Michelin website can’t be beat. This is unsurprising, given that their maps are among the most detailed of Europe. (For Italy, the Italy Touring Club maps are also rather good.) That said, I’m rather disappointed that they don’t have super detailed maps of Croatia.

For airfares, I always start with Kayak. Even though clicking through to airline’s own sites and searching can sometimes save you $10-20, and sites like Go Today sometimes have good consolidated deals, this is the best way to get the lay of the land. Plus I love the little sliding controls that let you adjust your criteria after you search.

The Inside Flyer site is the guide to mastering frequent flyer land. It lists “secret” deals and teaches you how to game the system. Seriously helpful if you’re planning a trip in advance and want to fly free.

The Fare Compare website is also all about gaming the airline system. In particular, you can sign up for alerts on particular routes and they email you when there’s a significant price change. Plus, for the serious travel nerd, the site gives tips for getting Q-up and Y-up fares (basically first class seats for coach fares).

Blurb, I think, is my coolest new discovery. It lets you create real, honest to goodness books from your photos or blog. And, you can stream photos or blog entries right from websites to your computer. Then you just play with the formatting. And the books are really nice when they come – great printing and photo definition and even spiffy book jackets. I made my sister one for Christmas and it was genius, if I do say so myself.

One Week In Argentina

2007-01-30T15:25:00.001-05:00

Seeing as I'm not doing any actual travelling in the near future, I thought I would do some rough sketches of places I'd like to go. I recently read Paul Theroux's Old Patagonian Express. In addition to reconfirming my undying adoration of Theroux, it gave me the itch to check out South America, a continent I've only gotten near, but never actually all the way there. (I think Trinidad is the closest I've been, as the crow flies). Although there is serious draw to see Macchu Picchu and tackle Brazil, one seems overrun and the other too daunting, so my current thought is Argentina.

Flights are such that a week in Argentina, flying in and out of Buenos Aires, would actually be pretty doable. Plus there's minimal risk of jet lag, so the week won't be filled with struggling with sleep cycles. So, here is my plan for one week in Argentina.

Buenos Aires. BA is getting a lot of press these days about how "European, yet affordable" it is. Sounds good to me. I've recently heard positive feedback from a honeymooning friend at work, a too chic travel website and Mike's parents, so I figure it has broad appeal. So, first, hotel thoughts. The grande dame hotel is the Alvear Palace. So if I were to go with my mom, I'm staying there. Otherwise, I'd stay at one of the smaller places in the Recolata or San Telmo neighborhoods. The Cocker (as in spaniel) looks lovely - stylish but not overdone, all suites, some with roof gardens, for around $100 a night. The Art Hotel is also getting a lot of write ups these days. It's another affordable town house-turned-inn, this time in Recolata.

As for activities in BA, I think it would be a wandering-with-occasional shopping adventure. Sounds like Palermo Soho resembles its namesake in an earlier incarnation (that is to say, lighter on the H&Ms). Bar Uriarte is apparently a restaurant gem in that neighborhood. Although not a big steak eater, I'd have to succumb to the local reputation in BA and eat some. Restaurant Dora is supposed to be excellent, as is La Cabrera. With all that walking around, I'd need snacks. Empanadas are a good place to start. Apparently La Cupertina in Palermo on Cabrera, has a tasty sweet corn empanada. For 60 cents. I'd certainly stop in at a Havanna cafe, a local chain, for alfajores - sandwich cookies filled with dulche de leche and covered in chocolate. Yum. Word is the Argentinians don't do a half bad gelato, either. So I think I wouldn't starve.

After a few days in BA, I think I'd be itching for some adventure, in which case I think I'd hop a flight to Mendoza. Mendoza is Malbec country and, as I've fallen prey to buying lots of wine on vacation and lugging it back, I might as well do it somewhere affordable. Finca Adalgisa is apparently a rustic but lovely place to stay in the area and Club Tapiz is the old-vineyard-as-minimalist-inn variety. As for eating, one vineyard, Bodega Carlos Pulenta, apparently has an excellent restaurant.

If hopping on a plane seems to trying, then I'd go to one of the estancias (the Argentinian agritourismos, I'd say) within driving distance of BA and herd some cattle, eat some beef, and drink some wine. Estancia El Martillo seems like a good place to do such things.

Of course, this is a very short trip. An extra week or two and I'd probably fly my way to Torres del Paine, way down in Patagonian Chile for some serious hiking and maybe some sailing around. I've always thought the Explora Lodge (also known as Hotel Salto Chico) would be out of this world. But that's for another post.

Oops

2007-01-23T14:53:00.000-05:00

This is what a cancelled trip to Croatia looks like. Handiwork the result of a banal trip down a sledding hill in Vermont this week. Travel planning now refocused on something spectacular post-crutches. Bummer.

Trip Planning: Volume 1

2007-01-18T11:31:00.000-05:00

I have spent the better part of my free time over the last several days trying to find a way to fly on frequent flyer miles from Washington to somewhere in or around Northern Croatia over Easter. In light of this somewhat random and undoubtedly challenging task, I shall write about my accumulated knowledge of finding cheap ways to get somewhere far away. And once I actually get there and back, I expect I shall write about the unexpected pleasures of Croatia.

So, step 1: accumulate frequent flyer miles. These buggers can be really frustrating, but a little discipline can reap great rewards. Step one is consolidation. I try my hardest to make sure I’m accumulating miles on the same airline. So this means using a miles credit card for purchases, work and personal. It also means getting miles on the chosen airline whenever I rent a car or stay in a hotel (most places have some sort of arrangement with airlines). Also, sometimes you can use miles from one program (say Amtrak) to “buy” miles with another (say Continental). This is also rather handy. Some airlines also let you transfer miles from one account to another at a fairly reduced price, which is quite useful when you’re trying to get two tickets. So, all of this hopefully yields enough miles to start looking for tickets.

Step 2: finding the frequent flyer seats. If you know 11 months in advance that you’re taking a trip, you’re all set in this department. Otherwise, it takes some creativity. Most airlines now allow you to search online for frequent flyer seats, but it’s all rather deceptive. That’s because most websites will only show you the seats on that airline, and most miles programs also let you buy seats on partner airlines.

So, for example, at continental.com, you can search for Continental frequent flyer seats. But if you have the endurance to sit on the phone, they can also access Delta, Northwest, and other airlines’ seats. This is rather handy when, for example, you want to fly from Washington using Continental miles, but most Continental flights from Washington connect through Newark, which is deeply irritating. Luckily, Air France flies to Europe direct from Dulles, and you can use your Continental miles on Air France, by way of Delta. An added bonus is that I’ve found the telephone folks at frequent flyer programs to be pretty handy. They can do better searches than the website – such as, I want to leave April 6th, but I only want to use 50,000 miles, so if there aren’t seats on April 6th, what day are there seats? Or, I want to go to Pula, but I’ll take a 50,000 mile seat anywhere within a couple hour drive, are there any other airports with free seats? So, moral of the story: suck it up and sit on the phone for a while.

Step 3: making the frequent flyer flight work. One of the problems I have faced a time or two before is that I can get a frequent flyer seat to the general vicinity of where I want to go, but not exactly where I want to go. The great news is that Europe, and increasingly Asia, is overrun with discount airlines that are the perfect solution. For Europe, as a general matter, if you fly to London, you’re pretty much good to go anywhere in Europe or Northern Africa. Surprisingly, this phenomenon has spread across the continent, so you can now get Swiss, Czech, Italian, Belgian low cost airlines and a host of others. For the most genius list of low cost airlines, this website can’t be beat. We’ve flown Geneva-Rome, Venice-Geneva, London-Gibraltar, and are probably headed for a London-Ljubljana flight. So convenient.

That said, sometimes it’s more fun not to fly over all those fun places. There’s the obvious romance of the train (I rather enjoyed a Nice-Rome sleeper some years ago, complete with espresso served by the conductor in the morning and people in the neighboring cabin who we imagined as a husband and wife spy team). But I’ve grown rather fond of renting a car and heading out on the open road. I’ve never driven in Asia, but I think I’d give it a whirl the next time back, if the itinerary was right. Europe, certainly, is doable – roads are good, support services are good, roads are much better marked than at home.

The appeal of driving to me is that you actually get a little more local flavor this way, you don’t have to schlep your bags much, and you can stop off in fun little places along the way where the train never goes. Plus you get harrowing tales of driving through the madness of European cities (I believe I did a good 8-10 laps of the center of Nice at one point, and more or less screamed my way through downtown Barcelona) and of squeezing your car through tiny medieval streets (let’s just say you actually can drive through Montepulciano – who knew?) Admittedly, this appeals more to those of us who were forced to learn to drive stick shift in our youth, but there are enough Americans around that for a little more money, they’ll rent you an automatic. Plus, if you drive in Italy, you get to stop at the Autogrilles (rest stops, Italian style).

As far as car rentals go, I’ve had unparalleled success with Europcar. They let you pick up in one country and drop in another, they run good discounts from time to time, they don’t force you to buy insurance, they arrange for after-hours drop offs, and to date their customer service counters have been excellent. (By my count, this includes Paris city office, Nice city office, Rome Ciampino airport, Rome Termini Station office, and two rounds with the Piazzale Roma office in Venice, and a Fes-Marrakech reservation we never actually used). I’m a fan. Also a huge fan of the Michelin site for maps (and their print road maps are great, too).

So, it looks like April will have us flying on free seats to London, then Easyjet to Ljubljana, then a drive to Istria, in Northern Croatia, from there. Sounds like the perfect trip.

2006: The Year in Travel

2007-01-02T13:19:00.000-05:00

My posts seem to have ground to a bit of a halt, due mainly to the fact that I've had a few easy weeks and thus have spent limited time in front of my computer at odd hours. Luckily, though, there is an easy way for me to add a little something without distracting more than momentarily from my new pile of work. So, here it is, 2006, the year in travel.

2006 began in Los Angeles, hosted by some local denizen friends (who have begun 2007 as new parents - fantastic!) I am not a huge lover of LA, but the trip was for the company, so that was all good. Local activities engaged in: drinks at the Chateau Marmont and Standard, "california" sushi, and a stay at the surprisingly affordable, not as crappy as it could have been Elan Hotel.

January is home to the annual ski weekend for Mike's friends, housed by some lovely residents of Bennington, VT. For the second year in a row, we did not actually ski during the ski weekend, which was a huge personal victory for me, the crappiest skier of the bunch. There is also a growing crop of babies at the ski weekend, who I hope will keep skiing at bay for a little while longer, although I admit to fear that one of them may soon be a better skier than me. Resolution for 2007: ski lessons.

January also saw a week in Vegas at the Bellagio for work. All of the 30ish male coworkers were jealous, but I rather dislike the place. Bellagio is a nice hotel, on someone else's dime, and had the added bonus of having good (if insanely overpriced, again the someone else's dime) coffee at the "Espresso Bar" and a pair of Marc Jacobs shoes on sale in one of the stores. Restaurants (Olives, Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris, FIX in the Bellagio) were universally underwhelming.

February was a trip to NYC to hang out and see friends, accented by a lovely dinner at Jack's Oyster Bar, followed shortly thereafter by a long night of food poisoning. Would have highly recommended the place otherwise. Oh well.

February also saw a weekend at Disneyworld for a certain bachelorette. Let's just say my future children may see Disneyworld, but it will be with their grandparents. On a practical note, the Disney Yacht Club, shielding your eyes from the requisite theme, had decent rooms.

March was Houston for a wedding. Not much to report, except that Mike did serious damage at the Galleria mall while I was bridesmaiding. Houstonian Hotel (wedding site) had a superlative gym, and also a large elk mural in the lobby, in front of which I now have a lovely photo.

Then it was off to London for a weekend to visit friends. My third trip, Mike's first. Highlights were Borough Market, drinks at the Tate Modern, gastropubbing, Indian fast food, and trying to drink our wine from Italy so we didn't have to carry it home.

April was a wedding in Princeton which, despite the rain, had the requisite dose of nostalgia during the Chapel wedding. Followed shortly thereafter by a chicken parm from Hoagie Haven.

May kicked off with a fan-tastic birthday weekend in Paris. Highlights were undoubtedly dinner at Le Cinq and meeting our friends from London for a drink because we both happened to be in town. So chic.

It was back to NYC in June, thankfully stomach illness-free. New favorite bar from this trip: Pegu Club, 77 W. Houston.

To Boston for the 4th of July, with a lovely trip to the Harbor Islands. This was a new discovery for me, but what a great urban getaway. Take a little ferry ride from the harbor docks, end up on an island. Have a picnic. Walk around the docks. Ferry back for dinner in the North End, followed by watching the locals play bocce. Divine.

August was quiet (too much work for vacations), then off to Morocco by way of Gibraltar and Algeciras, Spain in early September.

September saw a trip with the Princeton ladies to our local Atlantic spot: Bethany Beach, where we spent a cozy weekend listening to the wind howl and the weather cleared in time for a beach walk on Sunday.

A lovely fall weekend in October in Nantucket found us a new fave restaurant: 29 Fair. Expensive, but worth it. And of course visited all the old favorites.

The rest of the fall was filled with work travel (Boston and Manchester, NH), plus the requisite holiday trips to Cleveland.

Closed the year out this past weekend with another weekend in Nantucket. Despite the distinct tragedy of the Downyflake having closed for the winter this year, we had some divinely cooked bay scallops and a lovely New Year's Eve at Cinco.

Christmas in...

2006-12-05T17:47:00.000-05:00

So there was this family I knew growing up who, instead of buying their kids Nintendos and such, spent every Christmas travelling somewhere exotic. And each year their obligatory Christmas card photo was a photo of them on last year's trip. I always that that was the coolest. In fact, I anticipate that I will go home in a few weeks and search my parent's Christmas card basket (yes, there is such a thing) to see if they've continued the tradition this year (harder when there are grandchildren and such). I rather hope they do. So, with that thought in mind, here are some thoughts as to where I would spend the holidays, were I ever able to convince my family to do so.

Brazil. Seems odd, I know, but there's some logic here. First thought: it's cold as heck and somewhere warm would be spot on. Brazil is warm. Second thought: it'd be kinda nice to go somewhere where Christmas is celebrated so you don't feel totally alienated. The Brazilians do the Christian holidays (see, e.g., Carnevale). I think it makes sense. Were I to do this, I think the way to do it would be Rio over Christmas itself, then to the beaches in Bahia for some lazing and eating of fresh fish. And there's apparently a pretty cool local festival on New Year's Eve in Salvador, complete with a midnight dive into the waves. Plus, I really, really keep meaning to go to South America and it just hasn't happened yet.

The Philippines. Not only is this a shoutout to the Tothanos, currently following this plan, but Manila is the only place in the world I've ever spent Christmas other than scenic Cleveland. And it was pretty cool - midnight mass in the streets was definitely one for the ages, plus I kind of dig parol - the stars that are traditional holiday decorations there. Plus, another opportunity for post-holiday beaching at one of oodles of spectacular beaches. Okay, okay, I'll link to the place I'm dying to go again - this private island. But I'd settle for Palawan. Who am I kidding? I'd settle for Fort Meyers right now.

Arosa, Switzerland. Skiing is obvious, admittedly, but a place like this would allow for full on skiwear plus enough of a scene to keep the nonskiiers among us entertained. And swank hotels. And raclette (potatoes and cheese - how can you go wrong?).

Edinburgh. A bit random, admittedly, but I feel like if you're going to do the tartan-wearing British Isles version of the holiday, this would be prime territory. I have visions of holing up in a castle, pheasant on the table, scotch in the library after dinner.

Vienna. The germanic bits of Europe have never really grasped my attention, but there's something appealing, in a gingerbread house, cinderella way about Christmas in Vienna. They have the whole Christmas Market thing going on. Plus the Vienna Philharmonic. Plus you can bring your gown and stay for the Imperial Ball for New Year's. I'd go all out and stay in a palace.

Rome. Seriously, must this even be explained? Home of the pope. Food and wine that can't be beat. Cute streets for wandering with your muffler on. Plenty of apartments to rent for sipping mulled wine and reading. Plenty of restaurants with hearty fare to indulge in when you feel like venturing outside. Plus, you could spend a whole day stopping in for an espresso to warm up.

From one end of the world to another: D.C. Restaurants

2006-11-21T16:58:00.000-05:00

I have been an on-again, off-again resident of our nation’s capital and have always felt rather indifferent about its charms. In particular, after two years in Philadelphia, which I consider pretty much the ideal restaurant city and will discuss in some future post, Washington seems a bit bland. Admittedly, part of it is the issue I can’t get over: why must all the buildings look like they’ve been transported from an office park in Solon, Ohio? Nonetheless, a year into my most recent stint, I have developed some affection for a few local restaurants. So I will share them, in the hopes of enlightening a visitor, or god forbid a resident, or two to stay the hell away from the Buca di Beppo.

The hip and happening place to be these days is the variously named Gallery Place/Chinatown/Penn Quarter/MCI-now-Verizon Center neighborhood, which is more or less downtown. Admittedly, the huge upside to this neighborhood is its proximity to where I spend the huge bulk of my waking hours: the office. The downside is the general ambiance. See Solon, Ohio, above. Nonetheless, there are some locations of note.

The first is Jaleo. Ah, Jaleo, back when I was making 1/10th of what I make now and just a shiny-eyed college kid wanting to change the world through my summer internship, Jaleo was exotic and exciting. It is less exotic now, but the food is still consistently good and it’s still cheap and its refreshingly unsceney these days. Go there, wait at the bar with a pitcher of sangria, eat, leave with garlic breath. The perfect evening. Highlights are the manchego cheese and green apple salad (I keep meaning to make this at home – really just genius); garlic shrimp (mmm, garlic shrimp); little chorizos on garlic mashed potatoes (there is nothing bad in that phrase); and patatas bravas (carbs and mayonnaise: the perfect combination). And the sangria. Don’t be dumb and order beer. Drink the sangria.

If you’re craving some scene with your downtown, have a pricey drink beforehand at any of the following. Just don’t be dumb and eat there. Well, unless it’s on someone else’s dime. And then just graze. Anyways: Poste (go seasonal or their Hendricks and cucumber cocktail; way better in the summer when you can sit in the courtyard), Zola (don’t even think about it, order a blueberry mojito), Zengo (the weeknight bartender makes a genius vodka gimlet), Oya (this place really only works with a group, otherwise the lounge layout isn’t good), or Indebleu (admittedly irritating cocktail menu – why must it be all folded up?).

In a somewhat different category in this neighborhood, I can admit to being very pleasantly surprised by the brunch at Café Atlantico. I think dinner there (minibar aside, which I haven’t tried) is worn out, but the brunch was a treat. It’s basically a small plate concept, with things tweaked for breakfast (called “latino dim sum,” dumb name, don’t let it deter you). There’s some overlap with their lunch/dinner menu, but only the best parts. Highlights were the conch fritters, with perfect gooey centers, the jicama-avocado raviolis, and the fried eggs with Veracruz sauce. A few people, some mimosas, and a handful of plates is a perfect non-eggs benedict way to start a weekend. Plus, Teaism is right across the street if you need a backup plan.

In a different part of town, I’m finding that I’m gravitating towards two standbys. The first is Two Amy’s just off Wisconsin near the Cathedral. God I love this place. And they do takeout, which is brilliant given how long the line gets. A word of warning: this is yuppie family central if you go during the day or pre-8:00 for dinner. So if the cry of a 4 year old clothed entirely in J.Crew clothing echoing off tile floors is going to send you over the edge, go with takeout or later dinner. Even then it’s bustling, certainly not a place for whispering quiet nothings. That said, I’m really rather fond of going and having a glass of wine (current choice: the De Angelis Lacrima Christi del Vesuvio, a red from Campania) and the special crostini of the day (last weekend: prosciutto and Jerusalem artichoke – so good) at the bar while waiting it out for a table. Personal menu highlights: suppli a telefono (little risotto balls baked with cheese goodness inside), polpettine (mini meatballs baked in sauce), any pizza with salsiccie on it (they have a periodic special with leeks that’s quite good) and their totally genius margherita. Plus a special homemade ice cream each day. What’s not to love?

My other standby joint is Indique. This is a part of a rash of nouveau Indian joints in town, but this one is the most down to earth and has the best food. Even though they’ll often say they don’t have any reservations, if you just show up, you can usually get a table within 20 minutes. Especially in the summer when they have outdoor tables. Plus, if the wait’s really long, just go across the street to Dino and have a drink and some antipasto. Note on Dino: great wine list, but if Chris the bartender (who’s awesome) is making blood orange anything, get that. Also they have tasty snacks at the bar (mmm, fava beans). Anyways, back to Indique. My cocktail of choice is the pomegranate martini – sure, sure, a bit clichéd – but they make it not too sweet here, which I like. Current favorite dishes are the samosa (which is “deconstructed” – sounds dumb, tastes good – it’s very moist and the right balance of fried bits and potato bits), the garlic naan (you can watch the breadmakers making it through windowed kitchen), the lamb rogan josh (I just love the name rogan josh, also this is the right balance of tender and spice) and the chicken makhani (boring, I know, but I just love this stuff, I would drink the sauce if I could). The food is fresh and never overcooked or overspiced or greasy. Love it.

So, despite my grumblings, those are my current culinary highlights. They are admittedly restricted by location, as I don’t believe in leaving the District for much of anything (I know, I know, good Vietnamese in Virginia – I’m just not doing it), and not particularly cheap, but to date, the best locally-fulfilling options we’ve dug up.

Bagan: Temples and More Temples

2006-11-12T12:53:00.001-05:00

At some point I will write a thorough post about travelling to Myanmar, known to some as Burma, and the various implications of such a choice. For now, though, I will say that we went there in the summer of 2003 and the highlight was certainly the area known as Bagan.

Angkor Wat gets all the hype in the realm of temples in Southeast Asia, but Bagan is a sight unto itself. The area, consisting of over 2000 temples spread over an area that I'd guess to be around 20 square miles, dates to around 1000 AD, give or take a few hundred years on both ends. The true majesty of the place is that there are temples as far as the eye can see. It is difficult for an amateur photographer to capture, but it is literally an entire land of temples.

Bagan was the ancient capital of Burma and is pretty undiscovered by the modern traveller. That is both its challenge and its charm. This is no destination with public restrooms and snack shops; many of the temples are literally crumbling to the ground in the middle of an abandoned field. And many of them require tramping through high grass just to get at them. But it is truly extraordinary to be able to wander among them, with no other people around except the peasant families that serve as "caretakers."

We were only there three days - and talked of going back almost immediately. We spent a day and a half with a guide getting the rundown on the bigger temples, but spent our last morning literally wandering through fields and into, and on top of, smaller temples. I'd definitely like to go back and do more of the wandering.

Word is, though, that despite UNESCO's efforts to preserve the temples, the government of Myanmar has taken to "restoring" them - mostly building them back up with modern bricks - and has even built a modern observation tower in the middle of the plain. So sad. Nonetheless, I'd still return. As with all destinations in Burma, the key is to stay in locally-owned (or, worst case, Japanese-owned hotels) and use non-government guides (we used this Bangkok-based agent who, with encouragement, made the arrangements we were looking for), and open your eyes to the people living their lives around you.

It's an extraordinary place, with a lot of humanity, and lives that are so different from mine - I think it is the most different place I've ever been. One of my lingering memories of the country is that the people are so poor and clearly oppressed, yet there is a thriving industry for gold leaf, that even the poorest people buy to place on statues of Buddha. For some reason, that encapsulates the place: an oppressive and impoverished country that somehow still projects beauty, gentleness and devotion.

In Search Of: A Summer Retreat

2006-11-04T17:00:00.000-05:00

Back in the days when normal yuppies could afford it, my parents use to take us to Nantucket for a few weeks each summer. Thus, I learned the value of the laid-back summer vacation where the key goals were riding your bike, bobbing in the waves, whether to have chocolate or rainbow jimmies on your ice cream, and, once you hit teenagerdom, how to lighten your hair with lemon juice. Now that I'm old enough to have to pay for my own summer vacation, and I haven't turned out as a wildly successful hedge fund manager, or wife of one, Nantucket is increasingly out of reach. (I mean, entry level house price of $1 million - I think not). So, the quest is on to find a suitable replacement where, for the time being, we can go rent a cottage for a week or two and, some day in the future, buy a house and convince a few friends to do the same.

I'm definitely an ocean-over-mountains person and particularly partial to islands. The odds are good I will spend my remaining years on the East Coast, so that's the geographical boundary. And, due to the childhood referenced above, really we're talking New England. Although I'd entertain the possibility of crossing the Northern border. So, some options I've been pondering:

Cuttyhunk Island. So this is a small island off Cape Cod, part of the mostly-private (read: owned by the Forbes family) Elizabeth Islands. Reached by ferry from Rhode Island, but no flights, it is short on cars and definitely the quiet side of vacation islands (think one seasonal restaurant, one general store, etc.) Seems really appealing, although I can't seem to locate much of a rental or sale market, so it's hard to know what the price are like.

Block Island. Never been, but clearly larger and more accessible than Cuttyhunk. Certainly discovered, but doesn't seem to have suffered the private-jet-from-Teterboro problem that Nantucket has. Definitely pondering a weekend at this place to check it out.

Maine. I spent a wonderful teenage summer as a nanny in a place called Squirrel Island. No cars, one little general store, lots of paths over rocks and reachable on a little ferry from Boothbay Harbor. So quaint: square dancing on Saturday, an ice cream counter in summer, and the kids doing plays for the whole town. But I can't seem to find anyone renting a place there. I just know there are a bunch of islands in Maine like this, but can't seem to meet anyone with personal knowledge.

Canada. I know nothing about Canadian islands, but Prince Edward Island seems appealing. Would be a hike to get there, but maybe worth it for the peacefulness and price?

Adventures in Morocco: Fabulous Marrakech

2006-10-28T14:42:00.000-04:00

To complete the trilogy of Morocco postings, the last installment is Marrakech. After returning from the mountains, stomachs unsettled and legs very sore, we arrived in Marrakech at our Riad: Riad L'Orangeraie. Owned by some Frenchmen, this was a chicer version of the riad concept: Minimalist sort-of-African, sort-of-Balinese dark wood and muted fabrics decor. Same courtyard layout, this time with two courtyards, and a great roof deck with benches and chaises with the chic-required white pillows. A little dipping pool to refresh. A few sitting rooms scattered around. Bathrooms with big tubs. Just right.

Marrakech has a few more "sights" than Fes, but again the biggest entertainment value was in the wandering. And the shopping. Good shopping here. Western tourists were in far greater abundance here (word is it's where the cool kids in Paris come for the weekend, which was evident in the restaurants, discussed further below). Anyways, some of the key sights:

Djemma el Fna. The main square in town. Not much to see in terms of architecture or layout, it's really a people watching attraction. Now, the traditional food vendors, storytellers and snake charmers are far outnumbered by backpackers and pasty European tour groups. But it's still good people watching. The thing to do is to take a perch in a cafe around the square and linger. We sampled a couple: Best cafe for actually eating is definitely Cafe Argana; best view is Cafe Glacier. There's a little row of orange juice vendors (lots of fresh orange juice in Morocco) that Mike rather enjoyed that's open all day, too. At night, the vendors emerge around dusk to set up a little village of food stalls. Unfortunately, our mountain food-recovering stomachs preventing us from sampling the wares, but there looked to be some pretty good variations of grilled meat on offer. I'd stay away from salads and other items that don't have the bugs cooked off - not a whole lot of cleaning going on.

Koutoubia Mosque. Can't go in unless you're Muslim, but a striking minaret, handy for orientation purposes around town. The gardens behind are lovely for a little break from the crowds. (Sadly, the grande dame hotel, La Mamounia, was under massive renovations when we were there, so we did not get to enjoy the gardens or hotel there).

Ben Youssef Medersa. Lacking the atmospheric decay of the medersas in Fes, this place was clearly a tourist destination. It is, however, still striking and beautiful. As with all of the medersas, I found the combination of symmetry and incredible detail beautiful.

Badi Palace. One of the oodles of palaces, in various degrees of upkeep, around town. Impressive in scale, less so in decoration at this point. In the far left corner, though, you can go up to the roof for a good view of the city.

Marrakech museum. In a restored palace, with a lovely little cafe in the entrance courtyard (that you can get to without paying for museum entrance). I would definitely recommend this as a rest stop during a hot day in the alleys of Marrakech. The museum itself is lovely, with lots of nooks with well-positioned chairs for resting around a fountain. The strange yellow light from the enclosed courtyard is a bit off-putting, but you can't have everything. Aside from the standard fare (carpets, ceremonial jewelry, tea sets, etc.), there was an interesting collection of old photographs in one of the side galleries.

Jardin Majorelle. These gardens, a bit outside the medina, were once the home of artist Jacques Majorelle, but are now owned (I think) and kept up by Yves St. Laurent. Thus, they are tres chic. We took a horse and carriage ride there, which was touristy but fun, although you could probably walk it in about 30 minutes. The gardens are lovely - lots of tropical plants with matching intensely colored pots and reflecting pools, all surrounding the old residence, now painted an intense blue and housing a small museum. They were a bit crowded when we were there, but definitely lovely.

Shopping. There are, of course, the souks for wandering. The souks of Marrakech were much more extensive than those in Fes, and clearly much more aligned with the tastes of the western tourist. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, I suppose. Anyways, metal work and jewelry and sandals and linens and caftans and woodwork and carpets and the whole list of crafty items are on offer. There are some that are clearly tied to a particular craftsman and some that are clearly more "nouveau" Moroccan. Bargaining is de rigeur, regardless of where you shop. (My experience was regular use of the line "you must have been born a berber" in response to extensive bargaining - some sort of ethnic stereotype with which I was not familiar).

We picked up lanterns for our back porch, fun caftans for beach coverups, and some brightly colored berber rugs, of which I'm growing rather fond, among other things. As always, I regret not buying twice as much of everything.

Restaurants. We had breakfast in the riad, which was superb - breads of the French and Moroccan variety, fruit, good coffee. Lunch was generally picnic style or in one of the little cafes we happened onto.

Marrakech was definitely a more western dining experience for us than Fes (or the Atlas Mountains). This was in part due to my chicken tagine boycott and in part due to the fact that we delegated to our hosts Cyril at the Riad for suggestions. (And that is the plural of Cyril: there is Cyril the owner in Paris and Cyril the on-site manager - both were great, once we sorted out that there were two Cyrils). The first night we had dinner at the Riad, which was a spectacular setting by the candlelit pool, but something I probably would have enjoyed even more at the beginning of the trip, as it was generally the standard menu.

Night two was Bo Zin. Moroccan-Thai, obviously. Definitely fun, if only for the change of pace. If it had been a touch warmer out, the garden with its flowing white sheets and torches would have been super fun for an evening of imbibing. Downside is it's a 15 minute taxi ride outside the medina. Upside is there's a chauffeured car complete with Hotel Costes-esque soundtrack to take you home.

Next night was Le Foundouk, my favorite restaurant of the trip. An old caravaneserai with a bar on the first floor, dining tables around the open balcony on the second floor, and a roof terrace on the third level. Definitely the best combination of Moroccan-modern decor and Moroccan food for the sophisticated western palate. My pastilla was brilliant and the wine list was definitely the best one we'd seen. My only regret is that we didn't go back another night for drinks on the roof.

Our final dinner was at Le Comptoir, an offshoot of a restaurant in Paris. It was just a little too themey for my tastes (can we say belly-dancing show), and the middle-aged British couples on either side of us didn't help. A drink at the bar upstairs would have been a better choice.

All in all, we took a mid range approach to Marrakech, which could have been done far more lavishly or far more backpackery. Obviously, any trip to Morocco would be silly without Marrakech, but I think it particularly well-suited for what I think is a burgeoning weekend market. It's sort of Morocco-lite - just enough culture and caravan-fantasy but still room for shopping and cocktails. That said, I think I'd like to spend longer there to get to know some of the back alleys and such - it felt like the kind of place that you might be able to really get to know with some time.

Too Cool For School

2006-10-23T11:14:00.000-04:00

Damn that New York Times, always stealing my thunder. Sunday's paper had a big, multipage story complete with photo spread on the Kasbah du Toubkal. If only I had a professional photographer to follow me around and take wonderful photos.

This does raise the main problem with writing about cool places you've been: too many other people start showing up and everything gets all crowded and expensive. There's a reason my little discussion of the villa we rented in in Perdifumo did not have a link - I want to go back.

Rent a Home in Italy

2006-10-22T19:19:00.000-04:00

I am thinking about renting a place in Italy for a week or so at some point before the airfares get outrageous this spring. I've now done this a few times - apartments and houses, cities and countryside - and am now contemplating the small village rental. It seems the best choice for when it's still a little chilly out (no point having a huge terrace if you can't sit out there) and when I'm looking for some peace and quiet. In anticipation, some thoughts on places already rented.

Montecatini Terme. Back in the day, six or so years ago, some lovely ladies and I rented this house in the northern bit of Tuscany. This was a huge find, not only for its affordability, but for the fact that it came with an entertaining "landlord" named Lorenzo. Lorenzo now seems to have upgraded his website to the point of overwhelming, but the place is still a good find. It's a gorgeous traditional country house surrounded by olive groves, halfway between Florence and Lucca and within day trip distance of all but the southernmost part of Tuscany. The nearest train station, in Montecatini Terme, is a ten minute drive and zips you right into Florence. We did days in Florence, Lucca, Pisa, and Chianti. We also took a lovely drive north one day, just sort of following the roads towards the mountains, and happened onto the Ponte Del Diavolo (Devil's Leap Bridge), tucked among the villages. Combined with roadside stands with amazing mushrooms, it was quite a find.

Rome. I've discussed these spots before, but I'd recommend the Trastevere neighborhood for apartment rentals (although the place I rented about six years ago seems to have disappeared). I'd also highly recommend this gem that we rented about a year ago, right around the corner from the Pantheon. It appears the owner now rents two apartments in the same building - we stayed in "Blu".

Perdifumo. Ah, Perdifumo. This place was brilliant - a four bedroom villa about two hours south of Naples, near a town called Santa Maria del Castellabate. The villa is a 5 minute drive outside the little village of Perdifumo, which is utterly devoid of tourists. It had a huge terrace with views to the sea and was surrounded by orchards. You could grab some white figs right off the tree for breakfast, and walk to the alimenteria and macelleria for pasta with the world's tastiest sausage for dinner. It even has a pizza oven that, along with an American from London, we made our own homemade pizzas in. The villa is close enough for daytrips to the Amalfi Coast, but if and when we return, I think I'm just going to stay on the terrace.

Bellagio. Despite the overabundance of British tourists, I loved Lake Como and renting an apartment was a nice way to enjoy the scenery without hearing the Brits in the room next door. We rented a medium sized apartment from a short term rental apartment type hotel and it was not only a bargain, but surprisingly lovely. Next time I'd get one with a "full view" of the lake, rather than a partial one, but other than that no complaints. I liked Bellagio, although we weren't there at top tourist season and I suspect my feelings would change in the summertime. Nonetheless, Lake Como was spectacular and this apartment was right in town, convenient to restaurants, and even little markets right outside the door.

Atlas Mountains: Kasbah du Toubkal

2006-10-19T12:28:00.000-04:00

Part Three of the Adventures in Morocco series is our adventures in the Atlas Mountains. After Fes, we took the quite spiffy train to Marrakech, and caught our hour long taxi ride to Imlil, our jumping off point. I highly recommend the train - on the European level of cleanliness, space, available snacks, and timeliness.

We based ourselves at the truly spectacular Kasbah du Toubkal, a short hike up the hill from Imlil. This place is pretty great - it was converted from the ruins of a nobleman's Kasbah by a joint British-Berber partnership and is all warm and fuzzy on the environmental, empowering the locals scale. Plus it's swank. Only downside is that you have to pay in advance and it's nonrefundable, which wreaked some havoc on our rescheduled travel plans. But still worth it in the end.

So, we arrive in Imlil, a little backpacker town chock full of people trying to sell you things, and met up with our donkey guy for the walk up the hill. Cars can't get to the Kasbah, so they put your bags on a donkey (and you, if you want) and you hike your way up. Not too bad of a hike, but I will admit to being both entertained and mildly embarrassed by our black rolling bags on the donkey.

So you arrive at the gate to the Kasbah and enter this central courtyard, filled with flowers. The rooms are arranged in several buildings around the compound, and there are various terraces for meals and lounging, plus a hammam (traditional bath) and a dining room. Our first few nights we had a room in the tower (Taferka) that looked up into the mountains on one side and down into the courtyard on the other. Our last night, post-hike, we had a room with a terrace overlooking the river valley (Amadin). Both were great. The Kasbah also has communal rooms for groups or lower budget hikers, which gives the place a nice, friendly vibe. Plus they give you your own djellabahs (traditional Moroccan hooded robes, think Obi Wan Kanobi in Star Wars) to wear when it's cold. Pretty entertaining.

So the centerpiece of our stay at the Kasbah was a hike of Jbel Toubkal (or Mount Toubkal), the highest mountain in North Africa, coming in around 14,000 feet. So the plan was to spend the first day lounging and then we set off the next day for our two day hike, and then left the following day. The lounging was superb. We took advantage of the various terraces, read some, wrote some, took a walk to the village, and pretty much gazed at the mountains.

The food was good, but still heavy on the chicken tagine and couscous. Each meal is set, so there's little choice, but the settings are great. Breakfast and lunch are on the terraces and dinner is in the very atmospheric dining room, filled with candles and low tables and cushions. Because the Berbers do not drink, the Kasbah is BYO, but they have no problem with you having your own wine with dinner. They were very kind and even produced a birthday cake filled with candles upon request.

So, after the lounging, it was time for hiking. Admittedly, this is rather high end hiking. We had our guide, Mustaffa, who was knowledgeable and entertaining, but not overly solicitous, along with two donkeys and corresponding men to carry all our stuff. These guys also cooked our meals, pitched our tent, the whole thing. Pretty nice.

So off we went into the hills. We hiked by the picturesque neighboring village of Aroumd, across the river valley devastated by a flash flood some years earlier, and up the mountains to the shrine and little town of Sidi Chamrouch. This place was a shrine to the equivalent of a saint in the local Berber religion. Apparently most Berbers, although Muslim, also follow some of the traditional religious customs. We couldn't actually cross the little bridge to the shrine, but we could gaze on it from a snack shop above. Mostly, it looked like a huge, white rock. Together with the cluster of shops for hikers down below, and the group of rather high kids camping and playing their drums downstream, it was a pretty backpacker scene. So after a rest, off we went up the mountain valley.

Another hour of hiking later, we happened onto the lunch location, which was rather spectacular. Our various donkeys, along with those of another couple off on the same hike, had been unloaded to create a little restaurant on the mountain. We had a rug and a table and chairs and mats for lounging and full meal. Pretty great. So we ate and rested and gazed at the clouds.

One more stretch of hiking and we made it to the base camp for the summit, formerly known as Neltner Hut. This is a hostel for people to stay in, and is surrounded by a slew of tents, some permanently set up like little hotels, and some for individual groups. So as our tents were pitched for us (pretty tough on us), we checked out the hut and watched the fog roll in. It was pretty cold by dusk, and by the time dinner rolled around, I had literally every piece of clothing in the campsite on.

Once again, we had a swank dinner set up in our "dining tent" and then we tackled what would become the ongoing issue of the hike: my boots. Apparently my boots were old and at some point in the hike, the soles started to come off. Literally off the boot. So Mustaffa decided that there was no way I was going up the mountain like that, and after we couldn't devise a way to fix the boots, Mohammed, the donkey guy, lent me his shoes for the summit hike the next morning. Lots of drama.

So 4:00 the next morning we were roused from our tent and headed up the mountain in the dark. For unclear reasons, Mustaffa decided we should charge up the mountain to pass a big group ahead of us. After it became very clear that this approach was utterly inconsistent with my body's ability to process oxygen at that time, we slowed it down a bit. From there it was a long four hour trudge through a lot of rocks up the mountain. The summit was freezing but spectacular and Mustaffa even brought us a mini champagne bottle to celebrate. After a rest and a snack, we headed down.

The trip down Toubkal was quick - maybe two hours - but rather challenging as the whole top of the mountain is basically a big scree field, i.e. field of loose rocks. So you basically have no secure footing and the best approach is to half run, half ski down down the thing. So you get down pretty quickly, but you spend a fair amount of time on your ass. And have a lot of bruises the next day. But down we went, with me periodically reminding Mike that summitting mountains is not a relaxing vacation choice when you both run out of time to do any kind of training beforehand.

After making it back to base camp, we had a little lunch, I gratefully gave Mohammed his shoes back, and we were on our way. The rest of the hike back to the Kasbah was an easy gradual downhill, but went extremely slow due to my utterly useless boots. We made several stops along the way to try various repairs. First we tried to tie the soles on with my shoelaces. Then we tried to do the same with some twine we found on the side of the trail. Then we stopped at a little shack, where they made nails out of wire, and tried to nail the soles back on. Then we stopped in Sidi Chamrouch and devised a wire frame that kept the soles on. Pretty impressive efforts, and sure made me feel like the dumb American with her old boots. Which went promptly in the garbage once I got all the wires off. Our last night was rather tragic, as Mike spent the whole night ill, but we enjoyed our cleanliness and headed to Marrakech the next morning.

Some general admonitions about the Toubkal area:

If you're choosing between Kasbah du Toubkal and Kasbah Agafay (the Richard Branson property), definitely choose Toubkal. The setting is exponentially more spectacular and way better value. Plus, all you're missing out on is a tennis court (who wants to play tennis in the Atlas mountains anyway?) and the price.

If you're going to hike on your own out of Imlil, it's very doable as the trails are well-laid and there are little snack shops and stuff along the way. I would not, however, hike Jbel Toubkal on your own - there's barely a path and you can make some seriously dangerous route miscalculations on the rocks.

I'm not sure I would necessarily choose the Toubkal summit over other hikes from the Kasbah. There are a bunch of options for day and multi-day hikes, including some with overnights at the Kasbah's mountain lodge further into the hills. I suspect that heading over the ranges may be just as spectacular, and less strenuous, than the path to the summit.

Definitely allow lounging time. The property itself is spectacular and I wish we'd spent a few more days there.

Where to go next

2006-10-18T19:00:00.000-04:00

So a certain someone (or, more accurately, someones) are off on travelling adventures for a while, which has me thinking about my next trip. Likely time frame for the next big trip is a week or two in the February-April timespan. There are competing philosophies here.

Philosophy 1. We just did a big trip (Morocco) that left us a bit worn out. It turns out our big-job lives make doing nothing on vacation a bigger priority than it once was. So this philosophy says we should go somewhere where we don't move around during the trip, and that somewhere should involve low stress. Leading contenders for the beach approach: a return to Belize, Costa Rica (I'm thinking this place in Malpais), a return to Tobago (at left). Leading contenders for the eat and drink wine approach: a return to Rome, a new Italian city, perhaps Provence.

Philosophy 2. Life is short and there are too many places not seen on the map. So we pick somewhere new, but not super nuts. Leading contenders for the exotic beach approach: Bali or a Thai beach or go nuts and go to this place that I just think is the coolest. Leading contender for the relaxing, but new mountains approach: a mountain house in the Alps. Leading contender for the new eating and drinking wine location approach: Dubrovnik, Madrid, Sevilla.

Philosophy 3. Why not just keep it simple and visit a few of those red states (or, ideally, newly blue ones). Contenders here: West Coast roadtrip (Cali or Oregon, I think) or see some canyons and mountains in the southwest.

Sun. Placencia, Belize.

2006-10-17T14:06:00.000-04:00

Because it is crappy and rainy today, a miserable foreshadowing of the months to come, I shall post a lovely spot we visited a year or so ago. It's in Belize. In an area called Placencia. To get there, fly to Belize City and then take a puddle jumper to Placencia.

Despite a fellow-traveller's mugging experience (albeit in Ambergris Caye, a more touristed area to the north), we found Belize lovely. Placencia is completely laid back and unspoiled. There's a fancy Francis Ford Coppola place called Turtle Inn there if you need your yuppie fix (although, for a fancy joint, it's not so fancy), but mostly it's local places and barefoot on the beach.

We did a scuba course (Sea Horse Dive Shop) and took a sailboat for a day cruise (Next Wave Sailing), but other than that this place is about reading a book in the hammock. That'd be brilliant right about now.

We stayed in Carter's Beach Bungalow, one of the privately owned houses you can rent through what was then called Kitty's Place and now called Saks at Placencia. It is about 50 yards north on the beach from the main inn(there is one house in between the inn's beach cabanas and the Beach Bungalow). It was the perfect location for a relaxed, casual vacation. Kitty's (and Placencia, generally) is not the place for you if you are expecting a five star hotel or if you are looking for a vacation that requires more than shorts and flip-flops. However, if you are looking for a truly relaxing vacation that's very affordable and in a picturesque beach location, then this is the place.

Carter's Beach Bungalow is essentially one room with a double bed, small kitchen and table and chairs. The bathroom (with toilet, sink, stall shower) is a separate building three steps out the backdoor. The Bungalow has a porch facing the beach with two hammocks and has it's own private beach with two beach chairs- the water is about 10-15 steps from the front door. It is in a very private location - the houses on either side are far enough away that you do not see or hear them. The Bungalow was adequately furnished, but by no means fancy, and very clean.

Food at Kitty's was okay, Turtle Inn was overpriced, but the beach bar is excellent (with a full slate of Coppola's wines, certainly the best wine you'll find in a beach town), Omar's in town was great for lunch and the backpacker-recommended DeTatch in town was well-sited but just okay food wise. We cooked a fair amount and would recommend buying fish from the Coop which is at the very southern end of the Sidewalk on the right hand side (it's a worn looking door, but you're in the right place). You can't really go wrong buying fish right from the fishermen.

Really, it can't be that bad, when this is the view out your window.

Adventures in Morocco: Fes (or Fez, it's rather unclear)

2006-10-16T18:11:00.000-04:00

In the ongoing Adventures in Morocco series, I shall now discuss Fes. Known to some as Fez. Not too long ago, although it seems like ages, we spent four days in Fes, wandering the medieval streets and generally feeling somewhat alien. Some thoughts on the experience:

Orientation. There are essentially three sections to Fes. The oldest part of town is the medina, known as Fes el Bali and also with a section known as Fes el Andalous. Next oldest is Fes el Djedid, located southwest of Fes el Bali. Then, there's the Ville Nouvelle, the newest part of town, built by the French. For our purposes, Fes el Bali is the focus. We made brief forays into the other parts of town, but found Fes el Djedid underwhelming and a new city is a new city.

Where to stay. It used to be that, back in the day (like when my parents were there circa 1971), westerners could only stay in the new city. Not so anymore. The trend of converting private riad homes into small hotels has definitely hit Fes, and I would recommend taking advantage. We stayed at Riad Louna, and I would highly recommend it. Affordable and lovely, with a cool courtyard for daytime siestas and a breezy rooftop for evenings. It's just a bit inside the medina from Bab Boujeloud (one of the old gates to Fes el Bali), so it is easy to access by taxi when you arrive, but you're also right near the medina.

The big, fancy hotel in town is the Palais Jamai. All the books say it's swank, but it definitely has that big colonial hotel feel (it is a Sofitel, after all) and it's perched on the very edge of the medina, so I would only recommend it if you're not looking for any authenticity. If you're looking to splurge, riad style, La Maison Bleue and its sister property, Riad Maison Bleue, is the swankiest option. We had dinner there, discussed below, but I can't say it is fantastic enough to justify the proportional price increase. To give a sense, Riad Louna: $85/night, Maison Bleue: $200/night.

What to do. Fes is definitely a walking-and-looking type destination. The obvious place to engage in such activity is Fes-el-Bali. Given our brief tastes of Fes-el-Djedid (the newer quarter) and Fes Nouvelle (the even newer quarter), I'd stick with the medina. There are not so many big sights, as the major monuments are religious ones and non-muslims may not visit mosques in Morocco. So, sightseeing involves much observation of street life, some peeking behind doors, some shopping, and some sitting and sipping tea. Now, all the books say you need a guide for the medinas in Morocco. This is true and not true. The reality is that wandering by yourself and going with a guide are two different experiences. I would recommend both. To illustrate:

Day Without Guide. Our first day we decided we would tackle the medina by ourselves, with the trusty Rough Guide in hand. We accomplished this fairly well. We set out from the Riad Louna and headed towards the major landmark, the Kairaouine Mosque. This is fairly easily accomplished as Rue Talaa is pretty much a straight shot. Along the way, we admired the Bou Inania Medersa and generally observed the bustling alleys. We then took a little detour through Place Seffarine and eventually gave in to a fellow offering to take us to see the tanneries. So we climbed our way up to one of the shops with views over the tanneries, took some photos, declined to purchase leather goods, and made our way back down.

Then we did some aimless (not quite lost) wanderings for a few hours and snaked our way through the souks (collections of alleys selling or making certain kinds of goods: Dyers' Souk, Brass Souk, Leather Souk, etc.) and finally made our way back to the riad. Now, all of this was quite doable and Fes el Bali is contained by city walls, so you can only get so lost. There are these tourist maps and marked "routes" through Fes el Bali, but so far as we could tell they were utterly useless. I'd go with the internal compass.

Day With Guide. The next day we got a guide (We did this by asking at the riad, which I'd recommend as that way you get someone licensed by the tourist authority. That doesn't mean you aren't still going to get taken to carpet shops, but at least you've got a set price and someone to complain to). Our man Mustaffa, after being told that we'd hit some key sights the day before, suggested we taxi our way to the Andalusian Quarter and then make our way back through the medina, east to west. So off we went.

The Andalusian Quarter (Fes el Andalous) was a treat, as it was a bit off the tourist trail and had a real whiff of authenticity to it. We walked from Bab Ftouh (Bab = gate in the city walls) through some market streets to the Medersa Es Sahrij. Medersas are buildings that house koranic students who come to study at the local mosques. Fes's traditional role is as a center of islamic study, so the place is crawling with medersas, and these places are still used. In contrast to the Medersa Bou Inania, from the day before, which was all cleaned up for visitors, the Es Sahrij was in scenic disrepair and still had students living there. You could peek through the windows at the little cell-like rooms where the students lived (apparently most of them are from West Africa), and they were outfitted with the traditional accoutrement, like posters of favorite soccer players. The traditional layout is student rooms surrounding a central courtyard with a pool and fountain, and a prayer room at the one end of the first floor. Makes for nice pictures of reflections of tilework in the pool.

From there we made our way through the quarter, did a fly-by of the Andalusian Mosque (really not so interesting when all you can do is look at the front gate), crossed the river and headed into Fes el Bali. At this point we entered into what is the eternal struggle of the traveller in Morocco: the shops. Now, pretty much any guide is going to suggest going to some shops to you. Maybe a carpet shop, maybe an antiques shop, maybe a spice shop, but definitely some kind of shop. Some people are very put off by this as they feel they are getting ripped off. Some people are very uncomfortable as they feel they have to buy something in each shop. My approach is that, in many instances, these shops are part of the tourist experience - you see a slice of life, you get a chance to talk to people, and maybe you find something cool to buy. I figure, go in a few shops, have a chat with the storekeeper, look around and if you don't like anything, leave. If you do see something you like, then all the better. Another upside is they give you lots of mint tea while you're shopping, which is always nice.

In addition to a carpet shop in an old palace with a really cool roof overlooking the city, we checked out a spice shop with the requisite Bill Clinton photos on the wall, and an antiques shop with gorgeous doors and window frames from old palaces, if you need such a thing for your home. Mustaffa mixed up the shops with trips behind doors that I never would have opened on my own, where we saw squatters living in old palaces and fondouks (former hotels for caravans of traders) now serving as small factories for artisans, and different kinds of local people coming and going. As Mustaffa explained it, each little area of the medina needs three things: a baker, a mosque, and a hammam (communal bathhouse). The theory seemed to hold true, although I think I'd add mules to the list.

Other random adventures. A few other tidbits from our handful of days in Fes.

Skip the Boujeloud Gardens. They're seriously tragic, and light on garden. Although at dusk, there was definite people watching to be done (and I was eternally amused by the new Christina Aguilera song blasting from someone's radio).

Street food. It may or may not have made me violently ill for several days, but there's some decent street food to be had. We had tasty kefta sandwiches (sort of spicy meatballs in pita) and the peelable fruit looked pretty decent.

"Palace" dinner. This is one of the junkets in Morocco: a dinner in a fancy riad or palace hotel, complete with multi course meal, low tables with cushions, and entertainment. We went to Maison Bleue, noted above. So the place is nice, it's a lovely tiled Moroccan riad. The service is attentive. The atmosphere would have been romantic (pillows, candles) if there wasn't a group of three middle-aged American couples at the next table. The food was good, but good Moroccan food is just okay. So there it is. The most entertaining part: how they (mis)spelled your name on your table.

Money. The ATM situation in Fes el Bali is extremely limited and all but one (which wasn't working when we were there) are closed on the weekends. So definitely stock up on cash near the train station in the new city or on weekdays. Most places are cash only, including riads, so it's pretty vital.

Pictures. Because many of the streets are covered alleys, taking pictures can be a challenge. Definitely bring a decent camera so you can adjust for the fluctuating light. My souk pictures didn't come out so well, but I think with some more premeditation, there are some pretty great shots to be had.

Superfun!

2006-10-11T16:02:00.000-04:00

So one of my new favorite blogs (see Tothano, at right) tipped me off to this cool website where you can make superfun maps.

All the countries I've been to:

create your own visited country map

And all the states I've been to (they seem very red, no?):

create your own personalized map of the USA

I think the moral here is someone needs to take me to (1) Hawaii and (2) pretty much all of South America.

Adventures in Morocco: General Admonitions

2006-10-03T11:30:00.000-04:00

So instead of doing one epic journal of a recent trip to Morocco, I'm going to do this in phases. First, general thoughts as to the trip.

Arrival. We took the ferry from Algeciras, in Spain, to Tangier. I'm a big boat fan, so I would definitely recommend the arrival-by-ferry approach. It's a quick one hour trip, you get to cruise by Gibraltar, and the boat is a big catamaran with snackbar, etc. That said, there is pretty much nothing to recommend Algeciras, where we spent the night before taking the boat.

On a somewhat unrelated point, I flew via Gibraltar (from Luton on Monarch Air). I'm now a fan of Luton airport and a growing fan of the low budget UK carriers. Luton had a lovely Marks & Spencer food store and a coffee shop - really all you need when waiting for a plane. Monarch Air had the requisite kitsch factor ("flying is so fun!") and they took buying drinks and snacks to a whole other level: they would chill a bottle of champagne for you during the flight, and you could then take it with you to enjoy upon arrival.

As for arrival in Gibraltar, it's one of those great, small one room airports, complete with observation deck where your family can wave to you as you disembark. No Placencia, Belize, the smallest airport I can recall, but still pretty funny. Crossing the border into Spain involves exiting the airport, walking one block down the street through the more or less unstaffed border crossing and then hailing a cab. Total time plane to Spain: 7 minutes.

Transportation. Our plans for Road Trip Morocco were thwarted by my gainful employment, so we instead took a planes, trains and automobiles approach. Our major legs were taxi from Tangier to Fes (5 hours, hot, not so recommended); train from Fes to Marrakech (cheap, air conditioned, snack trolley, decent seats, brilliant, definitely pay the extra $5 or whatever for first class); car from Marrakech to Imlil in the Atlas Mountains (really the only choice, very scenic, only about an hour). Lesson: if your schedule can handle it, take the train. That said, I think roadtripping would have been completely doable.

Lodging. Definitely stay in a riad. These are words to live by. Back in the day, westerners could only stay in the "new cities", outside the medinas, the traditional old cities. Now, enterprising Moroccans and a healthy dose of foreigners have purchased traditional courtyard homes (known as riads) and converted them into small hotels. These riads are tucked into the alleyways of the medina and are incredibly charming. Some are a little themey - heavy on lanterns and such and some are chic and sparse. If you're lucky, there will be a roof terrace and a little pool in the courtyard. They'll serve you breakfast in the morning and, on request, cook you dinner.

Food. Okay, so here's the thing: Moroccan food is not so interesting. There's really no restaurant culture, so basically what you're looking at is home cooking made for tourists. While this sounds good in theory, in practice it means a fair amount of baked chicken over the course of two weeks. Sure, they call it tagine. Sure, it's with couscous. Sure, every 4th night it might be lamb. But in the end, it's just a lot of baked chicken. That aside, a highlight of Moroccan cuisine is that they make decent bread (both of the french-influenced variety and ksra - the round, chewy native variety). Most folks will tell you to eat in your riad, as that's how you'll get "real" Moroccan home cooking. Fair, and I wouldn't disagree, but you'll be happy if you mix it up a little.

A personal favorite dish was pastilla (or b'stilla) - ground meat (traditionally pigeon) encased in a pastry dusted with sugar and cinnamon. Nice salty and sweet combination, although too heavy to eat every day. Le Foundouk, in Marrakech, did a brilliant one.

We also did a little venturing into street food, but honestly Morocco has nothing on Thailand and its kin. We enjoyed a little kefta sandwich in Fes (good spices), but that was the highlight. Okay, not entirely true, there fresh squeezed orange juice stands everywhere (including twenty or so in Djemma el Fna in Marrakech). Mike was a fan.

In Marrakech, which is crawling with hipster Parisians these days, there are food choices beyond the traditional, but they are heavily form over substance. Still, after three nights of chicken tagine, "thai-moroccan" cuisine, house music, and lots of draped fabric is a welcome change. See Bo-Zin, outside of Marrakech. A less successful venture was Le Comptoir, which sure felt like Morocco Land at Disney World. The bar is a better bet. Best food of the trip was Le Foundouk, also in Marrakech. Still hipster, but actually decent food and light on gimmicks.

Beverages. Right, so one of the standard shticks is when people offer you "moroccan whiskey." this points out a drawback to travelling in a muslim country: moroccan whiskey is mint tea. Not so much with the alcohol in Morocco. There are a few local wines - I would say the most palatable is the President Rose. But really you should bring your own. Only restaurants that serve westerners will have any alcohol, but most riads are happy to let you bring your own for dinner or to drink on the terrace, etc. The good news is you can now bring duty free liquids on the plane, so I'd suggest buying during your layover on your way in.

Attire. Although there were definitely western women, and teenage moroccans, in revealing clothing, I would say it's just less stressful to cover up. I did long sleeve cotton shirts or tshirts and a cardigan or wrap and linen pants or long linen skirts. Mid calf was fine. Sandals are great, although the streets of the medinas are super yucky (lots of mules, need I say more), so closed shoes have their advantages. At the hipster spots in Marrakech, you saw a little more trendy dressing, but overall a pretty conservative scene. The good news is there are oodles of cotton caftans and skirts for sale everywhere, so you can just buy while there if you've miscalculated. Or if you want to bring home beach coverups.

Glimpses of Japan Part I: Shiraishi Island

2006-09-25T14:50:00.000-04:00

So, more years ago than I would like to think, I spent a spell in Japan. Those who knew me then can vouch that these were not the best months of my life, but there were travel experiences during those months that ranged from sublime to deeply bizarre. So I shall share some of these anecdotes.

Part One is a place called Shiraishi Island. It's a small island in the Seto Inland Sea, about halfway between Okayama and Hiroshima. To get to this little spot, you must take the train to Kasaoka (local line from Okayama), then wander your way down to the docks, misinterpreting the unintelligible signs along the way, until you happen onto the ferry. Then, hop on the little ferry and you're there in thirty minutes.

The island is a small, one imagines slowly-fading, fishing community. There are no cars, only boats. Its chief attraction, aside from solitude and views is that it is home to one of the Okayama International Villas. These places are gems. They are houses in Okayama province, established to facilitate international understanding or some such thing. They are all terrific, and cheap (about $30 a person a night). The Shiraishi house is a modern affair, with double rooms, a great deck, and communal kitchen and living areas.

So your plan is this: exit the ferry, wind through the traditional houses up the hill to the house. Shower, have a sit on the deck. Then wind back down the hill to the little groceries to assemble provisions for dinner. Wind your way back up the hill, read your book on the deck, pull together a nice stir fry, and watch the stars.

There's a little beach down below the villa if you're feeling like you need some sand, and a Buddhist monument and temple in the middle of the island if you need some culture. Plus, wandering around the little village is endlessly entertaining in that quirky Japanese way (little old ladies! beer vending machines!)

If you're feeling active, a hiking trail circles the island and offers spectacular views of boats headed out to sea. There are lovely benches at lookout spots, so head up with a picnic and a book and soak it all in. The serenity of this quiet spot is the perfect anecdote to the crowds and neon of big city Japan.

Morocco: a teaser

2006-09-24T15:50:00.000-04:00

More descriptions coming soon, but in the meantime, some scenes from a recent sojourn to Morocco.

A Weekend in Paris

2006-08-23T09:17:00.000-04:00

I didn't mean to start with a tour of European capitols, but this morning in the shower I was remembering a recent lovely weekend in Paris. So I will recount the tale, which I think is pretty much a perfect itinerary for a repeat visitor to the City of Light. It's light on sights, long on atmosphere, so it's definitely not for that once-in-a-lifetime trip.

We left on a Friday evening, and landed in Paris early Saturday morning. A little train-metro hop to the Rive Gauche and we arrived at the Victoria Palace Hotel. This was my fourth trip to Paris and, although my friend's adorable apartment in Montmartre has to be the best place to stay, this hotel was a decent find. It's off Rue de Rennes, almost to the Tour Montparnasse. Very transportation-accessible and very walkable to pretty much anywhere on the Left Bank. The rooms are very big for Europe and the bathrooms are way above average. They do a lovely breakfast, taken either in the salon or delivered to your room (much better, of course). It's a little heavy on the florals, but you can't have everything.

Day 1

So a shower and a rest and we were off to stroll. We made our way down towards Notre Dame and had a browse through Shakespeare & Co. Left without any exciting purchases, but did score a B-list celebrity sighting, which is always entertaining. Luckily, we ducked our head in a favorite shop of mine, where I have found some lovely antique maps and prints over the years. The name escapes me, but it is on the left bank, halfway down the block that has the Hotel Notre Dame on the corner, wedged between shops selling plastic Eiffel towers. The owner, who is precisely how you would imagine a woman who owns a print shop in Paris, is delightful and will dig out special requests from the drawers along the wall. After picking out two new items for my collection, we took some time-marker photos in front of Notre Dame (which, upon our return, showed us shockingly older than the photos from 5ish years ago) and then wandered our way down the Right Bank.

We made a stop at a place I'd always meant to go into, but never got around to: Le Louvre des Antiquaires. It's just north of the Louvre, in an old palace, and is a collection of antique dealers. The brilliance of it is they all have big display windows, so you can treat it like a museum, sans any intimidation. The jewelry dealers have some incredible pieces, if you're in the market for a sixteenth century crown, and there are fun specialty dealers with swords and paintings and watches and statues and all kinds of things for your chateau.

Anyways, so we continued our strolling, made a pass through Les Tuileries, and met our friends from London at Pershing Hall for an aperitif. Pershing Hall is a hotel/restaurant/bar of the Hotel Costes variety and has that parody-of-itself aura that is always entertaining for a cocktail, and not high on attitude, all things considered. The brilliant news, besides how fabulous we were meeting for a drink in Paris, was that it was "happy hour", meaning that for $20 or so, you got two drinks instead of one. Super! The drinks were good, as were the bar snacks, although I have to say the decor was not what I had hoped. Plenty of modern furniture, low lighting, and drapery, but the central piece was this two story courtyard with a garden growing up the one wall. Just didn't do it for me.

Anyways, so by then we had to dash to our dinner reservation on Ile Ste Louis, which was made extra annoying by the fact that it was pouring cats and dogs and we couldn't remember which block the restaurant was on. But, we made it to Mon Vieil Ami, which I can unequivocally recommend as the best restaurant selection on Ile Ste Louis. Admittedly, this is a relatively uncompetitive group, but I love the island and the fact that there's a cute, fun restaurant there now is just perfect. Anyways, modern Alsatian is the label. It's a small restaurant with a big center serving table and tables along the walls. Modern decor (think grey fabric and a big flower arrangement in the center with exposed walls), but still cozy. Menu is bistro, with an alsatian twist, so a little heavy on the offal, but still delightful. My pate appetizer was quite good, as was the braised chicken. Mike's knee jerk order of lamb intestines for his entree was hilarious, but didn't turn out as well. As he put it, they tasted like something that processes body waste. And he was right. But the wine was perfect and it was the perfect place for a cozy dinner in the rain.

After dinner, the rain had let up a bit, so we hit on the brilliant idea to walk back to the hotel. It wasn't too cold, so it was actually lovely - Paris with that movie-set reflection of color and light in the streets. And Ile St Louis, back behind Notre Dame, up the Left Bank and into Montparnasse is the perfect evening stroll. Great day.

Day 2

Day Two dawned a little late, but breakfast in bed with a basket of pastries and cafe au lait, and the french doors ajar to the sunlight, is just the best thing in the world. Today's itinerary: more strolling. But first, more fabulousness. We headed Eiffel Tower-ward to meet our friends for lunch at L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon. Now a worldwide chain, we were still excited to check out Mr. innovative small plates himself. So we headed in and perched in a corner of the wraparound bar that constitutes the restaurant's seating. There was much instruction from the server regarding the proper way to order (isn't the point of small plates to do whatever you want?) and we were off. Highlights were the riff on zucchini and mozzarella mille-feuille and the lamb. Pricey for lunch (maybe 15-30 euros per item, so it adds up), but fun.

Then to strolling! We headed down to the Seine with the intention of a trip to the Musee d'Orsay but the line intimidated us, so instead we headed across the bridge to an antique show that had been set up in tents on one of the ponts. That was entertaining - half Westchester, half Versailles type scene and all kinds of things from old chinese furniture to deco chandeliers. After all that exertion, we headed back the the Left Bank and took a spot on a bench in front of these Les Invalides where we entertained ourselves for a spell by watching a little kid play soccer and then unsuccessfully attempt to fly his remote control helicopter.

Feeling fully rested, we strolled over to Rue Cler to obtain pastries and then found another prime spot in the gardens behind the Eiffel Tower to enjoy them. The main attraction there was pony rides for the kids, which were endlessly charming. Then, a certain someone who shall remain nameless decided we should go up the Eiffel Tower, completely violating the no standing in lines rule of this trip. But up (or, first in line, and then up) we went. Snapped some photos, made our way back down. Lesson learned.

Luckily it was dinner time, and we were slated for a place back near the hotel, so we strolled our way back only to find it was closed. Quelle probleme! After regrouping at the hotel, we landed at Atelier Maitre Albert, a Guy Savoy joint on the Left Bank, right near Notre Dame. Concrete floors, bright walls, rotisseries on view. Not a bad place, service was surprisingly friendly and the food was quite good - steak for Mike, fish for me. So a good save after all. After that, it was to Ile Ste Louis (I said I loved it) for a drink at the cafe, gazing at Notre Dame. Once we got too cold, we wandered our way back along the Left Bank and to bed.

Day 3

Last day! So sad. Today was a national holiday, so many things were closed, but no matter, as we could still eat and stroll. There was much sleeping in, followed by the divine breakfast, and then to La Grande Epicerie to assemble a picnic. This is a huge gourmet grocery store right next to the Bon Marche department store that is perfect for picnics. It has every thing you could ever want to eat, all the accoutrements and is accessible for those without the language skills. So we put together a feast and were on our way. We had decided on the Tuileries for the picnic and the weather held for us to sit on the grass and enjoy the scene. Tons of families out to enjoy the holiday, so no end to people watching. Lovely.

Then we had ourselves a stroll around the Right Bank. It was a window shopping day, given the holiday, but no mind as the windows are the best part anyways. Took a lap of the Place Vendome, which was lovely and hushed, and generally entertained ourselves with the things on view. Then it was back to the hotel before our big dinner.

Dinner was at Le Cinq, the three star restaurant in the George V hotel and was incredible. We started with drinks in the hotel bar, Le Bar, a swank, dark wood joint that was surprisingly unassuming. Then to dinner. The food was the right balance of creative but not overly-conceptual and the service was impeccable - omnipresent but relaxed. Decor is traditional french opulent, accented by modern floral decorations. We had the tasting menu, because why not. Highlights were bread with bacon in it (Mike's favorite) and my sweet breads with "paella" made of orzo with crayfish and chorizo and the insanely buttery mashed potatoes with Mike's veal. Of course, the cheese course was insane and the desert trio of bittersweet chocolate ice cream, pot de creme, and fondant cake pretty much put us under. And the meal closed with a box of homemade candies to take home (including homemade marshmallows - mmm) and an enormous rose for me. We closed the place down. And then had an after dinner drink in the bar. Over the top, but wonderful, and a great way to close out a great weekend.

Rome

2006-08-21T19:17:00.000-04:00

I am off to a more exotic destination in a few weeks, but some friends are going to Rome this weekend. So that has me thinking about la dolce vita. Some thoughts about favorite places:

Where to stay:

My adventures in Rome have been based in rented apartments to date. One charming place in Trastevere seems to no longer be listed on the internet, but it was tucked off the quiet Piazza Piscinula. The most recent visit was based in a lovely old building down a little road from the Pantheon. I won't tell you which place, for fear of a gem being overrun, but www.b-b.rm.it has some lovely leads and was the source of my find.

If I were ever going back on a spending spree, I think I'd cast an eye at the Hotel Farnese or Albergo Del Senato (you can't go wrong with balconies).

What to do:

Markets. I love markets. Mornings in the Campo dei Fiori are a must, and whichever little market of the day you happen onto is likely a gem.

Walking. Rome is big enough for a whole day's wandering, but with the boundaries defined so that you don't get helplessly lost. Plus, head in any direction and you'll find a major sight for the tourist in you, a great cafe for sore feet, and an unlikely little trattoria or, these days, wine bar for lunch.

Coffee. A little caffe freddo - cold espresso with sugar - in the summer is just the best break from all of your walking and marketing. But, really, if you walk in somewhere that's crowded and order any espresso drink, you're bound to do alright. Certainly better than Starbucks. Plus, the fresh orange juice is divinde. If it's morning and you're a little hungry, have a cornetto (I prefer plain) with your caffeeine. A favorite spot is Caffe Sant'Eustachio, on a small piazza of the same name near the Pantheon.

Eating. If you're not cooking at your cute apartment with the ingredients purchased at that morning's market, some places to try are:

Armanda al Pantheon is a slow food joint that's very satisfying, although definitely discovered by the well-informed tourist. This is an excellent choice for when you're not feeling too adventurous, but don't want to pay too much for disappointing food.

For that whole Roman mamma in the kitchen vibe, try Ristorante del Pallaro, Largo del Pallaro 15. You might have to eat whatever mamma feels like cooking that night, but it's guaranteed to be good.

Cavour 313 - on via Cavour, number 313, near the Forum - is a wine bar with light food that is an inspired choice for lunch after the ruins, or a light dinner if you're staying in the area.

Drinking. Any caffe will fix you up a campari and soda (or, my choice, a prosecco) pronto, but sometimes you need a little bit of chic with your aperitivo.

Word is these days the place to be is the Hotel de Russie.

Another choice is the rooftop bar at Hotel Eden, via Ludovisi 49, near the top of the Spanish Steps.

The beginning

2006-07-17T16:41:00.000-04:00

So I decided to join the already-banal blog bandwagon in a fit of melancholy today. The motivation is this: I love to travel, I love to plan travel, I love to talk about other people's travels. My occupation does not have anything to do with such interests. So perhaps I will write about them and see if that fills some void. I suspect this will be some combination of new writings about travel, the posting of things I've already written, and some linking to things I enjoy.