Ever stumbled upon the perfect café, sequestered deep in the quietest corner of a buzzing city, and just had to share the secret? Ever wanted to be part of that secret? Travelistas Lynn Lau and Abby Bender combine their journalism and travel experiences to bring readers Notes From A Café: Travel stories from the deep end, a refreshing cure to the usual stodgy travel resources. Notes From A Café revolves around the love of travel, with articles covering countries from Belgium to Norway to Malaysia, along with tips and resources to fellow travelers interested in the non-touristy side of exploring the world.
Celebrating the joie de vivre of traipsing the globe, Lynn and Abby feature their stories and secrets under headings such as "Voyage Vignettes" (focusing on the thick and thin of personal travel accounts), "Foreign Foibles" (cultural gaffes and taboos), "Travel Tips" (a grab-bag of information and suggestions for travelers), and "Roaming Reviews" (frank guides on true must-see's and definite stay-away-from's).
A random selection of our articles:
Perhaps it’s because I spent the past two months breathing, sleeping, and dreaming the brilliantly satirical, hysterical, Tony-award winning musical Urinetown. Or perhaps it’s because I drink enough coffee daily to drown a horse. Whatever the reason, when I sat down to write this week’s update, my thoughts immediately turned to the topic of restrooms. Specifically, European restrooms. Even more specifically, pay toilets.
Oh, yes, you’ve heard of them. It’s hard not to. They’re a worldwide rage, an everyone’s-doing-it phenomenon, like Coach purses or skinny jeans tucked into boots (only not quite as glamorous). They’re the you’ll-never-believe-it groans spewed from just-returned-from-abroad American travelers. They’re the don’t-merit-their-own-bullet-point in your handy-dandy travel guide that quickly morphs into a now-I’m-stuck-with-a-distended-bladder-and-no-spare-change of many a traveler’s trip.
Not only are they ubiquitous, they’re discombobulating. What traveler hasn’t been momentarily intimidated before the little vest-wearing toilet maven, seated primly behind her little plate of change? Who glares at you while you dig through your pockets to find the correct fee? And then hands you a fistful of toilet paper after you’ve handed over your cash?
It seems so very foreign to charge for something as natural as using the restroom. Then again, you pay to eat, which is yet another natural function. Some would argue that, in principle, it’s the same mentality. Which is a logic I don’t agree with, even though water costs a truckload more in Europe than it does in the States. Whatever the logic, the fact remains: while in Europe, you will more than likely have to pay to pee.
» Read the rest of It’s a Privilege to Pee ...
So you’re going to be stuck in a plane for several hours, where the dry, stagnant air sucks the moisture right out of you. It doesn’t help that recent airline regulations limit the amount of liquids and moisturizer you can bring aboard. I don’t know about you, but whenever I’m in a plane for long periods of time, my skin turns positively gray. So what’s a traveler with sensitive skin to do?
Include Burt’s Bees Carrot Seed Oil Complexion Mist in your carry-on, that’s what. You may only be allowed to bring a quart-sized bag of liquids, but a good mister is absolutely worth the space. And with 100% all-natural ingredients such as rose oil, carrot seed oil, and patchouli oil, this particular mister gets a big thumb’s up. Just give a shake and acouple of good spritzes whenever your skin starts to feel drawn and tight, and you’ll find yourself remarkably refreshed.
Its website description says the Carrot Seed Oil Complexion Mist is specially designed for “mature” skin, but don’t let that deter you if you consider yourself young-at-heart. Carrot seed oil has amazing properties, including relieving stress and rejuvenating skin. Indeed, its anti-inflammatory nature is known to help treat dry skin, rashes, and dermatitis. An all-natural way to relieve eczema? Count me in!
If you’re old-school by nature, Burt’s Bees also offers the complexion mist in lavendar. The best part is, a mister is not restricted to just plane travel. Weary after a long drive with the air-conditioner on full-blast? Spritz on! Dull eyes after hours in front of the computer screen? Spritz on!
If you’re shopping for other kinds of misters, remember to avoid anything with alcohol in its contents. Alcohol-based products are bad for the skin, and terribly drying, which is the last thing you need when you’re on the go. Read the ingredients carefully before buying.
If you’re the crafty type, you can make your own complexion mist. Just be sure you know what you’re doing, as working with essential oils needs careful attention. For a lot of oils, pure equals extremely potent, and that can sometimes counter-intuitively harm the skin. You’ll have to dilute carefully measured doses with distilled water. Your local aromatherapist can be a big help in showing you how to make a mist that’s tailored specially for your needs.
A Travel Tip about soothing dehydrated skin would not be complete without a reminder to drink lots of water. So chug the H20 — just because you’re on the move doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look fresh and fabulous, so fill ‘er up!
The first time I went to New York City, I hated it.
It was a bitterly cold January. Jessica and I were staying with her cousins in Philadelphia, and after the hoo-ha of New Year’s had blown over, we decided a day-trip to New York was in order. I actually looked forward to it. Let’s put it this way: when you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, you’re either trying to recover from poor arch support or you’re brimming with anticipation. My arch support was fine, so there you go.
Jessica particularly wanted to see the Statute of Liberty. I really had no inclination to see the Lady, to tell the truth. Okay, she carried a torch. And there was that toga. I still get a kick out of that bit in Ghostbusters II, when the team enlists Lady Liberty’s help to defeat Viggo and his river of slime:
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Wonder what?
“What she’s got underneath that toga.”
Classic Venkman.
But other than that, it did not pique my interest at all. There were streets to walk! Shop windows to goggle at! Don’t make me go to a statue, for crying out loud!
We went to the statue. “For the view,” Jessica insisted cheerfully.
» Read the rest of Behind the Burnish of the Apple ...
If you’re visiting Vancouver and the sheer sense of city life starts to wear you down after a while, flee up north for a soothing retreat. That is to say, enjoy a good deal of repose — and green — at the Capilano Suspension Bridge.
It’s not something you can indulge in every day, certainly — admission rates are at least CAD$25, depending on the season — but it’s definitely a must-see, and you should certainly enjoy it at least once while you’re in the area (and if you live within Greater Vancouver, well, you really have no excuse not to go a few more times).
» Read the rest of A Little More Sway: Vancouver's Capilano Suspension Bridge ...
Oh, the humanity.
When I lived in France and sat down to luxurious dinners of foie gras, fresh herbed salad, aged cheeses, and to-die-for desserts, sometimes I would sit back, close my eyes, and think … I could really go for some chicken tenders.
No matter how cultured I try to act or what affectations I put on (or how much I really, really like chevre or a chilled Vouvray), I’m a corn-fed Midwestern girl at heart. And, even though gastronomical adventures through another country are exciting, sometimes all you want is a taste of home.
Both fortunately and unfortunately, my plight was all-too-easily assuaged. Throughout my travels, I noticed an assortment of “American” restaurants sewn into the tapestry of the European landscape. McDonalds. Starbucks. Pizza Hut. I think I even saw a Chili’s in Switzerland.
Yes, I am ashamed to admit it, but tho’ the spirit is willing, the flesh is all too weak. I succumbed to my most base desires from time to time … and would pick up a quarter-pounder with cheese from ol’ Mickey D’s.
Guess what, folks? Eating at these “American restaurants” reminds you why you didn’t miss the food in the first place.
And never did I realize this so sharply than I did in my recent trip to Germany, where, against all better judgment, I took a detour from the beer gardens, wiener schnitzel, and bratwurst to visit the Heidelberg Hard Rock Café.
» Read the rest of Just Say No to Heidelberg’s Hard Rock Café ...