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:
Earlier this month, Tonje and I invaded—er, visited—Brussels, the capital of Belgium, and the capital of Europe, for that matter. When my co-worker first heard about our plans, her initial reaction was a puzzled, “What’s in Belgium?”
“Chocolate,” her husband supplied. “Belgian chocolate.”
“Oooh.” She nodded in understanding. “That’s right.”
It isn’t a major tourist destination, for sure. While getting ready for our trip, I’d scanned the local bookstore’s travel section. There were only four or five guidebooks that named a Belgian city, and out of those, only three contained anything substantial. Most guidebooks on Belgium will list a combination of any three of its cities—Brussels, Bruges Ghent, Antwerp, Waterloo—complete with maps. The reason for this is that, well, frankly, the place isn’t that huge. You can cover a lot of ground on foot, and these cities aren’t more than an hour’s train ride away from each other.
Nor is the country as jam-packed with tourist sights as its other European neighbors, so you should definitely know ahead of time what you intend to do and see in Belgium. Otherwise, you might wind up like the baffled lady who stopped us at the train station, just as we were to catch the next ride to the airport, and asked the loaded question of, “What is there to do here?”
Whether you’re planning an excursion to Brussels yourself, or are intending only a short stop before continuing on your way to Paris or Amsterdam, here are seven things you should know about this capital of the European Union.
» Read the rest of Seven Things You Should Know About Brussels ...
No matter what you do or don’t bring, or how much time you have to pack, there are a number of things that can help keep your head on straight before a trip. In part two of the series, we take a look at another way to organize and ease the way. Slick like butter, baby.
All In The Books
Sometimes you have the good fortune of being able to rely on one great guidebook that covers anything and everything about the city you’re going to visit. Let’s Go: Paris is a terrific example of this—it contains concise profiles on each arrondissement, social tips, restaurant highlights, and even manages to fit a bit of Parisian history within its conveniently-sized pages.
If you’re venturing to a lesser-known area, however, chances are you’ll have to vary and diversify your choices—selecting certain pages from four guidebooks, picking out maps from the shelves, printing out sections from websites, even scribbling down random recommendations from friends. But you don’t want to be carrying that pile over, or be forced to rifle through them during your journey. In such a case, how does one keep all that together?
The key is to keep them together, preferably in an order that you know you’ll refer to them by. If you’ve borrowed the guidebooks from your local library, photocopy the relevant parts to keep. If you’ve already purchased multiple guidebooks, but not any one of those contains all the info you’ll need, then grab a pair of scissors and—brace yourself—begin cutting.
Relax. It’s only paper.
» Read the rest of Travel Checklist #2: It's All In The Books ...
I could tell you about our getting lost on our first day in Seattle—well, not so much lost as misdirected, because all we did was take the wrong bus and wind up on the other side of town—or about how Pike Place Market was a riot of shops and senses, in a way reminding me of the low-cost shopping complexes back in Malaysia. But you know what the real highlight of the whole trip all was? When I held an absolutely fetching white-chested caique on my fingers and blew on her tongue.
Blowing on Katie’s tongue
Photo by Seow Yin |
Seow Yin and I had emerged from Pike Place, and decided to stroll over to a small park nearby for a breather. The bright sun and hot temperature defied April’s alleged “spring” qualities, and drew people out into the open as if by osmosis. Or like a well-sprung trap, depending on your frame of mind. So, scattered about the park were students, drummers, and casual tourists amidst tubby pigeons looking for a snack.
Seow Yin had finished taking obligatory photos when I noticed there were other kinds of birds in the vicinity, and not of the pigeon variety either.
» Read the rest of Katie the Caique ...
I stepped off the train into a Christmas card. Or as my fellow passengers on the train to Siegen would say, “eine Weihnachtskarte,” or that’s what they would have said, were they not glaring into the feather-light snowflakes tumbling out of the dusk and frosting the quay.
Before I had boarded the train for my Christmas vacation (Weihnachtsferien) in Germany, Tobi had informed me that while there would be snow in Siegenland, it always fell steadily, never too quickly, and always in an amount that was manageable. How very German, I thought, for in my mind, Germans and Germany were the epitome of the engineering philosophy, marvels in regimentation, beer, and leiderhosen.
And, also, Christmas. After all, most of the beloved aspects of an American Christmas – Christmas trees, Saint Nick, and the Christmas Pickle (well, beloved in my family, at least) – originated in Germany. When Tobi had recommended that I spend my Christmas abroad with his family, I agreed immediately. Seeing as my bloodline is almost half German, I thought it only fitting.
From Paris to Köln on the TGV, and then from Köln to Siegen, I imagined the welcome that would await me once I arrived in the land of my ancestors: Tobi waving merrily as the train pulled in to a station frosted in a picture-perfect dusting of snow while a brass band played Stille Nacht in the background.
The snow was definitely there to greet me, but not Tobi. I clutched my duffel bag and tried to look coolly Parisian while all around me rose, not the sound of Franz Gruber’s famous melody, but the buzz of the rich, buttercream-thick, absolutely incomprehensible German language. Fortunately, Tobi appeared almost immediately, his father in tow.
“It has snowed about a foot,” Tobi said, bundling me into the VW. “All the highways were blocked. It is a crisis.”
» Read the rest of Weihnachten nach Siegen ...
To travel is to expect much of the places you visit; to move to one of these places is to expect much of yourself.
— Mark Jenkins, “Leap Year”, The Best American Travel Writing 2005
My whole life, I’ve always been going. Just going. Sometimes it’s a small distance — growing up in an oil palm plantation, the mere act of grocery shopping required a family-planned excursion to town. Sometimes it spans oceans — at age 19, I hopped off a plane onto US soil and stuck around since.
I’ve been traveling since before I can even remember. Literally — my brothers and I were born in three opposite ends of the country. By the time I was in primary school, my family were making regular weekend trips to Singapore. Every year until I departed for college, we joined other families on three-day ventures to various destinations, chattering on tour buses while some brave soul with a microphone in front attempted to keep order.
People have asked if I ever get homesick for Malaysia. No, not really. I may get a really intense hankering for mutton soup, spicy rendang, mihun goreng, and especially roti canai with some good chicken curry — hey, what can I say? Food is key — but the truth is, I’m so accustomed to traveling that I couldn’t imagine anything else. In fact, “anything else” would equal cabin fever. One of the most agonizing years of my life was when I was not able to travel at all. Now that drove me stark raving mad.
Of course, that doesn’t mean it was any less of an enterprise for this Malaysian girl to get used to brutal Midwestern winters. We’re talking born and bred in the tropics, after all.
But now it’s time to move on again, and this time, it’s even further north. Yes, the irony of that strikes me too. I will be pulling up stakes, packing all my worldly belongings, and moving to Vancouver, Canada.
The last time I made such a major life move was ten years ago. I’ve accumulated quite a whole lot since then, both in terms of physical belongings and actual experiences. As time goes by, I’ll be sharing my adventures, tips on the process, and learned lessons on such a move. Watch for ‘em.
Because traveling isn’t always something short-term and limited; sometimes it’s a way of life.