Road Trip: France, Part Three

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

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

Road Trip: France, Part Two

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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:

1. 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.


2. 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.


3. 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).


4. 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.


5. 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.


6. 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:

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


2. Ear plugs. Multiple pairs in case you lose one.


3. Pashmina/shawl. It's definitely always cold.


4. Tylenol simply sleep. To help things along.


5. 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).


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


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


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


9. 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.


10. Book or two. Preferably of the quick read variety.


11. 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

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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?