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?

Adventures in Morocco: Fabulous Marrakech

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

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

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

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

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.

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.