August 15: Relaxation & Failure

August 15 is National Relaxation Day AND National Failures Day.  Two special days in one... who knew?

In honor of this momentous occasion, I find it fitting to look back at my travel adventures to pinpoint my 1) most relaxing travel moment and 2) my most epic travel failure.  Since there were so many candidates to choose from in both categories, I offer up my top three in each category:

NATIONAL RELAXATION DAY:

#3: Mykonos, Greece (July 2005): My number-3 most relaxing travel moment takes us to the beautiful island of Mykonos.  White sand, sparkling blue water, traditional white buildings and blue roofs, and the relaxed Mediterranean way of life provide a backdrop for a relaxing escape from reality.  My visit to Mykonos was in the context of a study abroad program, following my first year of law school.  The class circumnavigated Greece as we studied the nuances of EU and international law.  While being in law school is in no way relaxing, there was something about the classes in Mykonos that were different...
Maybe it was the giant glass window that looked out onto the ocean...
Or maybe it was the lax demeanor of the professor, as we sipped Amstel Light while he lectured...
Or maybe it was that once class ended, we could walk outside that giant glass window and go snorkeling in the crystal waters and play rugby on the sand with a group of Aussie tourists.
Needless to say, my studies in Mykonos (albeit only for a week) were undoubtedly the most relaxing moments any law student could dream of.

#2: George, Washington, USA (September 2006/2007): My number-2 most relaxing travel moment involves a beautiful backdrop, great music, and a whole-lot of doing nothing.  I am not shy about my enduring love of The Dave Matthews Band.  Every Labor Day weekend, DMB plays a 3-night concert at The Gorge - an outdoor amphitheater outside the tiny town of George, Washington.  This is a sleepy place with nothing not much going on.  But each September, hoards of DMB fans roll into a vast open field adjacent to the concert venue, where a village of tents and RVs manifests.  The crowds spend the days relaxing in the sun while enjoying barbecue, beer, and other various social indiscretions.  By night, the crowds stroll across the field to the concert venue, which has the impressive, canyon-like Gorge in the background.  DMB serenades the crowds... and the same things go on for 3 days... year after year.  Come to think of it, I'm about due for another trip to The Gorge!

#1: Arenal, Costa Rica (November 2008):  If you have ever been married, you can certainly appreciate the building stress as your wedding day approaches.  Don't get me wrong: having 250 of our closest family and friends together for an evening was one of the highlights of my life, but planning an occasion for that many people takes lots of time, lots of energy, and lots of dollars... and it causes lots of stress.  What better way to unwind than a fantastic honeymoon, and I can think of no better place than Costa Rica.  The laid-back Pura Vida lifestyle was perfect for unwinding after the stress of our matrimonial celebration.  Of all of our Costa Rican stops, Arenal was certainly the most relaxing.  The sweeping mountain and volcano views, lush greenery, and the magnificent hot springs were glorious.  Throw in the fun and excitement of zip-lining and horseback riding down a river, and it was obvious: Arenal is a sanctuary of relaxation.

NATION FAILURES DAY:

Can't walk, so might as well ride.

Honorable Mention: Vienna, Austria (April 2011):  I'm not proud of these travel failures, but any seasoned traveler is bound to hit some unfortunate bumps in the road.  I've always known a good pair of shoes was important, but that lesson was confirmed in Vienna.  After 10 days of extensive walking (i.e. 12+ miles a day), my feet and shoes decided that they didn't get along.  While we strolled from downtown toward   Schloß Schonbrunn, the foot-shoe relationship disintegrated into the largest, most painful blisters I have ever experienced.  Every step felt like a knife stabbing into the balls of my feet.  Within minutes, I was crippled - I couldn't take another step with the pain.  For a little ways, I managed to slide on my heels along the edge of the curb, keeping the balls of my feet off the ground, but walking sideways is slow and uncomfortable.  Eventually, we made it to a city bike stand, where I hopped on a bike to ride back into town.  That night, I was in a panic as it seemed that our European adventure was about to end prematurely.  I had no options:  I wear a size 20 shoe, so finding a better fitting pair of shoes was impossible (buying shoes is the most troubling aspect of being my size).  The idea of being pushed along Europe's cobblestone streets sounded awful.  We thought we had no options left, but the proprietor at our hotel recommended a leather and shoe repair shop north of downtown.  I struggled to get there, but the repairman worked wonders.  He created custom insoles for my shoes that took all of the pressure off of the blisters, and he only charged 20 EUR to do it!  Though it took my feet nearly 3 months to recover, he saved our trip and I am forever indebted to him.

#3: Barcelona, Spain (July 2003):  Beware of gypsies and crowds in train and subway stations.  I learned this lesson the hard way, when unbeknownst to me, someone snatched my wallet.  Fortunately, Western Union saved the day when I had enough money wired to me to cover the rest of the trip, and they did not get my passport.  That experience reaffirmed the importance of securing valuables.  Ever since then, my wallet and passport are always secured in a pair of thin basketball shorts underneath the pants/shorts that I am wearing.  I avoided a big disaster (since I didn't have my passport stolen), but it was still a big-time travel failure.

#2: The Bronx, New York City, NY, USA (August 2008):  I visited NYC during the last season that the Yankees played at the old Yankee Stadium.  The legends that had played there are endless, and they even call it the "House that Babe Built".  During the final season, ticket prices were exorbitant, but my buddies Alex, Andrew, and I all wanted to see a game before the stadium was closed (and eventually imploded).  Realizing that our only chance to score cheap seats was through a scalper, we walked the streets outside the Stadium to find the best deal.  Our plan was to wait until the 3rd inning to buy - because we thought the scalpers would be desperate to get some money rather than eat the ticket.  So, as the 3rd inning rolled around, we made our move. If you have ever been to Yankee Stadium, you are probably familiar with the signs that warn of buying counterfeit tickets from scalpers.  (You can already see where this story is headed.)  We were certainly cognizant of the risk, so we chose our scalper wisely.  In my infinite wisdom, I even stated, "How about that guy?  There is no way that a scalper leaning on a "Beware of Counterfeit Tickets" sign would actually be selling counterfeit tickets."  Andrew and Alex agreed on the scalper, and as we were exchanging the three tickets for $120 total (which was, presumably, a great deal), Andrew did his final due diligence by asking the scalper: "Are you sure these are real?"  Sherlock Holmes himself couldn't have done a better investigation.  Needless to say, the bar code on the tickets didn't work, the gatekeeper confiscated our tickets (we don't even have the fake tickets as a souvenir), and we spent the afternoon sulking in Central Park over the $40 we had each lost.  Funny enough, I remember those events so vividly, but I'm sure that going to the game would now be a faded memory.

Return to the scene of the crime.

#1: Prague, Czech Republic (June 2005):  (For those of you that followed our trip through Europe earlier this year, this story may sound familiar.)  It was the first night that my law school classmates (Lucas & Emily) and I were together in Europe, so naturally, we wanted to spend a night out on the town. We went to Central Europe's largest dance club, a 5-story meat-market next to the Charles Bridge. Despite being a few drinks deep, I remember standing in a circle with Lucas, Emily, and Lucas' sister & friend, all singing and dancing to Gangsta's Paradise, when I felt a blow to my face... I thought someone had thrown a bottle, but apparently, some dude had sucker punched me, cutting me just above my left eye. I wasn't sure what had happened, but I look down and saw the blood gushing off my face and onto my shirt, jeans, and shoes. Security immediately grabbed me and pulled me off the dance floor, shoving me into a dimly lit bathroom, where they handed me a cocktail napkin for the gushing wound. The napkin was saturated in about 3 seconds. They then hand me a couple piece of toilet paper, pulled me out of the bathroom, down a flight of stairs, and they pushed me out the front door onto the sidewalk. I didn't know if my friends knew where I was or what had even happened. I then found a British guy out on the street, who had also fallen victim to the same serial sucker-puncher (British guy's front tooth got knocked out). Then, Lucas came out the door in a rage, because the same guy sucker punched him in the jaw. Emily followed outside, all of us finally reunited. I asked for some ice to help stop the swelling, and the generous bouncer gave me one cube. As a bunch of first year law students, we were intent on seeing that justice was served. We told the bouncers that we wanted the police called, but they told us that they would tell the police that we caused the fight... scrap that plan. After several more minutes of talking with the bouncers, Emily finally sweet talked one into spilling some info. They had caught the puncher and they "took care if it". Pressing a little more, the bouncer directed us to the alley behind the club, where we found the perpetrator lying on the concrete in far worse shape than any of us. I probably should have gone to the hospital for some stitches, but I was slightly afraid that a Czech hospital at 2am could lead to some sort of unnecessary amputation. Instead, I band-aided up and the cut and black eye eventually healed. Needless to say, getting punched in the face stands as my biggest travel failure.

Hopefully, I am able to add more to the first list and avoid adding anything to the latter. Though, trials and tribulations are a memorable part of the travel experience.

APRIL 14 - London

NOTE: I wrote this journal entry back on April 14, but I have not posted it until today. We are now only a few days away from the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, and I have not heard anything about London being unprepared for the games and the crowds. Rather, I have heard the opposite - that London was ahead of schedule and much more prepared than previous Olympic hosts. Three months ago, East London did not look ready at all, but I was correct about one thing in the post below: the Olympic Village's Orbit tower is absolutely hideous.


London is my home away from home. Behind only Vegas and L.A., I just feel comfortable when I'm back in London. This was my fifth visit, having studied there twice, and just stopping through on my other European travels. It's comforting to be in a city where I don't need a map, I know the local spots, and feel like I can just enjoy the city rather than having to see something touristy. With only 24 hours in London on this quick visit (and sadly, the last visit of our fantastic adventure), I only had three goals - lunch on Brick Lane, a tour east of town to see the Olympics grounds, and eat and drink the evening away in my favorite pub in the world. Getting to London from Paris is an easy (albeit a bit pricy) train ride through the Chunnel - one of the more anti-climactic experiences of travel. It may sound cool to traverse the English Channel underwater, but you are in a dark tunnel the entire time (and in fact, you never even see the water when entering or exiting the tunnel). After getting into St. Pancras Station, we got our Tube day pass, dropped our bags off, and we were ready to make the most of our final day of adventure.

Many people believe that the best Indian food in the world can be found in.... London, of course. And the heart of London's Indian food scene is Brick Lane, located north of Aldgate and just outside the Circle Line. Walking down the street, the smell of curry is inescapable, as the street is line with one curry shop after another. Every restaurant touts some award on a banner out front, too: Voted Best Curry 2009, Top Curry Chef 2010, Curry Cook-off Winner 2008.... the signs are endless. Plus, each restaurant has a guy out front that will try to convince you that his £7 lunch special is better than every other £7 lunch special. Needless to say, choosing a restaurant is tough, but you can take comfort in knowing that pretty much any Indian restaurant on Brick Lane will be very good. For no good reason, we chose Eye of the East, and Brick Lane's reputation for having great food passed the test. The Pathia Chicken was full of flavor and the naan was fluffy and fresh.

The 2012 Olympics are just a few months away, so we wanted to see what London had done in preparation for the games. I walked away not so much impressed with what had been done, but shocked at how much London has left to do. The city chose a run-down industrial area east of town to build up a new Olympic village. The Olympic Stadium, Aquatic Center, and Arena are all built and just need some final touch-up work, but the infrastructure and surrounding neighborhoods are nowhere near prepared. About 6 Tube Stations surround the Olympic site, and we decided to approach from Bow Road in the southwest. The neighborhood, though not threatening, is a bit run down and tired. Graffiti and litter were pervasive, the sidewalks were dirty, and signage to the Olympic facility was sparse. The Olympic site is built amongst wetlands and a series of canals, and there were some kayakers in the water searching for a good view of the area, but the water in the canals was a murky, rubbish was floating, and the canal walls were caked in sludge. Hopefully these canals get cleaned in the next few months. To top it off, the traffic and congestion in the area was abhorrent, as many of the streets in the area are completely ripped up. We saw a handful of blocks where piping was being laid underneath the road. I'm sure London will see to it that everything is ready before the opening ceremony, but right now, the area is not terribly appealing. The only problem that certainly won't be fixed is the massive eyesore that they refer to as the Orbit - a red metal viewing tower built right in the middle of the Olympic grounds. At a price tag of £20 million, you would think the designers could come up with something better than a Kinects project gone horribly wrong. I imagine in 25 years, the Orbit will be as big an eyesore to London as the Olympic Stadium is to Montreal - the Olympic committee should really get away from this recurring futuristic theme.

Quite a bit of work to be done in East London before the Olympics begin.

We took the Tube back into town for a stop by Ben's Cookies on Oxford Street. Carlee thinks the White Chocolate Cranberry cookies are the best cookies she has ever had, so we had one there and bought a box to take home (though several in the box were inevitably eaten throughout the rest of the evening).

For our last event on our 2012 European Adventure, I wanted nothing more than to take the Tube to Chancery Lane for drinks and dinner at my favorite pub in the world - Cittie of Yorke. I found this place when I was studying in London in 2004, and it immediately became our after-class drinking spot. The long wooden bar, beer casks hanging from the ceiling, and the nooks and crannys provide for a neat, sophisticated ambiance. This isn't an all-night party type of place, but locals flock to this place for delicious pub food and fantastic beer. I am a huge beer fan (if you couldn't tell by reading all of these posts), and Samuel Smith's Old Brewery Bitter Cask Ale is perhaps the finest beer I have ever had. Smooth, creamy, and hand-pumped, it makes me wonder why nobody in the U.S. brews cask ales. A meat pie, fries (with mayo, of course), toffee pudding, and a handful of pints later, we strolled through town on our way back to the hotel... all the while reminiscing about the past 17 days and already anxiously discussing where we will be headed on our next adventure. Thank you all for following us on this trip! I hope you could sense the joy and passion we have for our travels, and I would encourage you all to venture out to find your own amazing places.


Walked - 12.48 miles
GRAND TOTAL WALKED - 210.68 miles

St. Paul's Cathedral, with the Shard in the background (the Shard is the tallest building in the EU, and it opened in July, just a few weeks after this picture was taken.

  

Toffee Pudding @ Cittie of Yorke

APRIL 12-13 - Paris

Paris can keep your attention for a week, a month, a lifetime. Endlessly full of things to do, it is no wonder this is one of the world's most touristed cities. Renowned museums, magnificent cathedrals, gardens, monuments, colorful neighborhoods, and sidewalk cafes... So how do you take in Paris in just over two days? You walk a marathon and absorb beyond your saturation point. I have to admit, of all the stops on this trip, I was the least excited about Paris. I had been here a couple of times before, so I wasn't thrilled about spending hours in the Louvre, Musee D'Orsay, Eiffel Tower, Sainte-Chapelle, and the infamous ticket lines for each. Fortunately (for me), Carlee has a limited attention span in museums, and she had hit her art-limit at the enormous Hermitage in St. Petersburg. So instead of looking at art like most tourists would, we walked the streets for two days to the tune of over 37 miles. And any hesitation I had about visiting Paris again was washed away, as I discovered new parts of the City of Light, far from the touristed Ile De la Cite, Champs Elysees, or Latin Quarter.



We found Le Marché des Enfants Rouges, said to be the oldest food market in Paris (with history dating back to the reign of King Louis XIII in 1614. The market was quiet, inconspicuously tucked into a courtyard off the busy street. Inside, we met a cooky shopowner, who claimed to make the best sweet crepe in the whole world. Using organic ingredients from local farmers, he filled the sweet crepe with lemon zest and sugar, and his claim very well could be accurate. His savory crepes were incredible too, full of organic cheese, fresh ham from the deli counter across the aisle, and grilled organic onions. As we waited for our crepes, the shopowner let us sample his other breads and pastries, while he peppered us with questions about living in Las Vegas (a fact which never ceases to amaze people - our desert town has quite the global reputation!)


We wandered west to La Defense, Paris' modern day commercial hub, where the modern buildings and massive cubist arch structure seem worlds away from the historical city center.





We went south to Butte aux Cailles, a hilltop neighborhood that feels more like its own small village than an area just a few metro stops outside the city center.  Popular with artists and younger Parisians, this area had a long street market and countless coffee shops and bistros.



We went to Marais, an area just east of the city center, where we had dinner at Le Rollin, a quaint bistro with fantastic Parisian cuisine. I enjoyed Duck Confit over a bed of mashed potato, and Carlee had a tasty Risotto topped with a hearty filet of sea bass. Accompanied with a bottle of red Bordeaux, it was our most 'French' meal. 

We made our way to the Jewish Quarter near Bastille, where blocks of pedestrian streets are lined with some of the finest falafel shops. We strolled along the streets surround Canal St. Martin and we walked through Passage Brady - the Bengali heart of Paris.



Of course, we managed to be touristy beyond stereotype at times, too. On Thursday, we bought a baguette, wine, and cheese, and ate it at the base of the Eiffel Tower... and we did the same thing again on Friday, followed by a climb to the top for an afternoon view of the city. And I offer this tip to anyone that may be visiting the Eiffel Tower - do not waste hours of your day in the ticket line for the elevator. Either reserve the elevator tickets ahead of time or take the stairs to the second level. The reservation completely elimates the line, while the stairs allow you to stand in a line that only takes a few minutes, not several hours.








We fought the crowds at several other touristy sights too: the Notre Dame, the Sacre Couer, the Jardin du Luxembourg, and we had the obligatory scoop of ice cream at Berthillon (the Prailine Chocolate Orange was fantastic), but seeing the other side of Paris made the visit worthwhile. Plus, getting away from the touristy sights proved that the French are friendly, even to a non-French speaker like myself (though I became quite adept at greeting French shop-owners, restaurant hosts, and bartenders with an elementary "bonjour, madame" or "bonsoir, monsieur"). Maybe it is just the folks that deal with hoards of English-expectant tourists that get a bit grumpy.

My 2011 Austrian
foot/shoe savior!

Unfortunately, the hoards of tourists seemed more prevalent than ever in Paris (and throughout Europe, for that matter). Maybe it is my imagination, but buses full of tour groups caught my eye more often compared to previous years. Personally, the thought of being in one of those pre-packaged tour groups makes me cringe. Sure, these groups roll into a city for a day and infuse the tourist traps with money. But the tour groups are typically spoon-fed a watered-down version of the culture. I understand the appeal to some: tour groups make travel easy and convenient, but I believe so much of a traveler's experience is working through the barriers and unexpected difficulties. Trying to figure out how to traverse a city's Metro system, how to order dinner without an English menu, how to how to find a hotel/restaurant/sight when all you have is an address (which never used to seem that hard - see the Moscow post), or how to explain to a craftsman without any common language bond that the insole of your shoe is broken and your feet are being blistered - these are the dificulties but also the joys and accomplishments of travel. In stark contrast, the tour groups are led by an umbrella-wielding guide that is largely disinterested in anything but getting tips. The tour groups flock to the major sights, completely missing out on the culture, the locality, the people. They are insulated within their small group, never interacting with locals, staying at sterile Americanized hotels outside the city center (because it is cheaper for the tour groups), chartering around in air-conditioned buses, eating bland imitations of the local food and taking canned tours of only the most touristy sights... I understand that the tour groups are the only way some people will will brave the rigors of international travel, but it certainly takes away from the level of adventure.



In spite of the hoards of tourists, Paris is undeniably one of the world's most beautiful and romantic cities. Carlee and I left Paris with our own memento: a love-lock on the Pont des Arts. The love-lock bridge is a concept that is spreading across Europe. Couples decorate a padlock with their names, lock their padlock to the wires of the bridge, and then toss the keys into the water below as a symbolic sign of unbreakable love.  Cheesy?  Yes.  Romantic?  Absolutely, as several other couples were also locking up their love with the Eiffel Tower twinkling on the horizon.


Needless to say, our 37 miles of walking took us to unique areas of Paris that tour groups simply skate over. The city is beautiful, the pace is relaxing, and you really can't say enough about the quality or quantity of Parisian cuisine. Delicious pastry, silky chocolate, endless styles of cheese, and fine (and inexpensive) wine. I can't wait for a trip back to find new secrets in the City of Light, and to revisit our special love-lock (east side of the bridge, 6 light poles from the south bank - this is for my recollection as much as it is for your own "Where's Waldo" adventure to find our padlock). April 12 Walked - 18.83 miles Total walked - 179.81 miles April 13 Walked - 18.39 miles Total walked - 198.20 miles

Sacre Couer

Le Rollin - Sea Bass & Risotto

Coffee & dessert in Butte aux Cailles