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:
Tomorrow I will be hopping onto a plane for Belgium, where I shall meet up with a good friend and indulge in as much chocolate and castles as possible. Considering I’ll be heading out of the country in 24 hours, you might understand my trepidation when I confess that I haven’t finished packing yet.
Granted, given my penchant for bringing only carry-on luggage, how much packing could I possibly do? It’s not as if I, say, have the option of stuffing a partridge and a pear tree into my wheelie. Then again, having a limit on luggage space leaves no room for error. That, ladies and gents, is the sticking point.
No matter what you do or don’t bring, however, or how much time you have to pack, there are a number of things that can help keep your head on straight before your trip. I know they do mine. In this first of the series, we see how being finicky can actually be a good thing.
» Read the rest of Travel Checklist #1: Keeping It Together ...
In keeping with the theme of airlines and flying, I thought I’d tackle one of the biggest complaints any traveler deals with: flight delays that cause you to miss a connecting flight.
This is bad enough when you’re dealing with domestic flights, where a delayed connection can cause you to spend hours in unfamiliar airports. It’s maddening when it happens to a domestic flight that is supposed to then connect to your international flight — you know, to the destination that airline only flies to once every day. (Which happened to me.)
So, what is the best thing to do when this happens? Well, there’s really not much you can do, except get your flight rescheduled. And complain.
Yet, as it turns out, complaining (hold on for this shocking revelation) does not really do any good.
» Read the rest of Flight Delays: Stay Cheery! (Seriously) ...
This week, we feature an article by guest writer Sabrina Gaylor, who traveled to Iceland this past summer. Here she shares the mesmerizing sights of her visit.
Lupine by Akureyri |
As amazing as Iceland is, it’s just one of those countries that gets overlooked or bypassed for more traditional vacation spots. I had the good luck of getting a chance to tour the country this summer, which I jumped at because the global warming crisis means that Iceland may not be the same in the future. My tour guide told the group as we passed Vatnajökull, the majestic largest glacier in Europe, that it was receding at a steady rate and soon would be gone.
Even if Iceland is just the white-outlined dot on the map next to Greenland, it turned out to be a much more diverse country than I’d thought. Reykjavik itself was very hip and urban, but close enough to the water and to national parks that it was possible to get away. The rest of the country was filled with bleak, endless, rocky plains and fields of moss-covered lava, volcanoes, eerily blue lakes, small villages nestled in between the mountains, and hillsides covered in waterfalls and lambs. At some points, we drove over unbridged rivers.
But there are perils of traveling through very rural areas.
» Read the rest of A Whirring Tour of Iceland, by Sabrina Gaylor ...
One Sunday, as we were rumbling down the road in the red Peugeot on our way back home from the Amboise open-air market, Jennifer turned around and asked: “Hey … do you guys want to stop and see the Chanteloup Pagoda?”
I knew most of the hundreds of châteaux of the Loire Valley, but I had never heard of a French pagoda. Visions suddenly filled my head of dragon-emblazoned silk banners streaming from Gothic turrets, and manicured topiaries flanked by delicate, blooming cherry trees, and I knew I had to go see it.
As it turns out, the “Pagode de Chanteloup,” or the Chanteloup Pagoda, was built upon the remains of the château de Chanteloup, which belonged to the Duc de Choiseul, minster to Louis XV. Said Duke eventually offended the king in some way, shape, or form, as was wont to happen in those days, and Dukey found himself exiled to Chanteloup from 1770 to 1774. But his friends remained loyal to him, and in 1775, he directed his architect, Le Camus, to build the pagoda in honor of them.
(I’m assuming that the king had died, which made it possible for the Duke to build the pagoda and not get his head chopped off, but my guidebook falls short at this point.)
We pulled up to the deserted parking lot, parked the Peugeot, and tumbled out of the car, ready to take a quick trip to the Far East. But, horror of horrors, we discovered that the gate surrounding the park was chained shut … and the pagoda was closed for the season.
» Read the rest of Breaking and Entering ...
just a question of getting in the B&B that was the issue.
It was my first trip to Paris. I’d learned the language, planned my itinerary, gotten first-hand recommendations on where to go and what to definitely avoid. I even had the directions to my bed & breakfast down pat. By the time I’d gotten off the bus at Place de la Nation and confidently making my way toward my hosts’ apartment, I was proud of myself for knowing what I was doing.
Then I found myself outside the apartment, and realized that of all things people kept telling me about Paris, nobody said a word about how to open a door.
It’s always the little things.
Oh, there was a handle, all right, but the door was locked and so wouldn’t budge. There wasn’t a keyhole in sight, besides which my hosts had assured me a key wouldn’t be required there. There was a series of white buttons outside, and I initially took it to mean the same thing as in American apartment buildings—that each button was a buzzer corresponding to each apartment. However, not one of them was labeled with a resident’s name, and I wasn’t going to start buzzing everybody in the place and earn my hosts some very annoyed neighbors.
Well, okay, I did press a couple.
» Read the rest of After This, I Knew Everything Else Would Be Smooooooth-Sailing ...