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 ...
I’m an overpacker. I freely admit it. It’s been my experience that, whatever I decide not to bring, I will invariably need. If I don’t pack my umbrella because the weather report said it would be crystal-clear-sunny, it’ll pour three out of the five days I’m there. If none of the restaurants specified fancy dress in the Fodor’s listing and I leave my skirt at home, I’ll be invited to the opera. It’s just the way of the world.
I don’t mind lugging around extra items if I know I’ll use them. It’s another thing entirely when I’m lugging around all these items and find out later that I’ve forgotten half of the really important things that one needs on a trip, like shampoo and a toothbrush and such.
This usually happens in some level or another whenever I go on a trip, but on my latest trip to Germany, I took this ludicrousness to a completely new level.
In justification, I was attending a wedding, which required makeup, hair-care detritus, fancy dress and heels, and presents. The space on my carry-on was reserved solely for a pair of crystal candlesticks and the first two books of Stephen King’s The Dark Tower. A curling iron and hair dryer take up a lot of space, don’tcha know.
When my connecting flight got delayed, ensuing a flight switch and a day’s layover, and my checked bag became lost in Luggage Hell, a blinding illumination came to me:
I was the quintessential Don’t Bee.
» Read the rest of Don’t Be a Don’t Bee Like Me ...
It had been a blast visiting my friend Tonje, but now it looked like my trip was going to round off in a sticky situation.
My return flight was through Vigra airport. However, Tonje and I were miles away in Volda, and though Norway might be a good ol’ pocket-sized country, the keyword here is “pocket-sized.” It doesn’t have airports in just any which city. The main method of transportation is by bus. We’d have to take a bus from Volda to Moa, and then transfer onto a second bus that would shuttle me the rest of the way to Vigra. Collectively, a five-or-six-hour journey.
Hey, we decided, no problem. All the more fun and countryside to see before parting.
The problem was, when Tonje checked the bus schedule, there weren’t any buses between Volda and Moa on the day I was supposed to leave.
Mental note: Never choose Sunday as a departure day again.
» Read the rest of A Detour to Ålesund ...
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 ...
If I told you that Amsterdam is a little bit like America, would you believe me?
Because it is, in a way. Except for everyone riding bikes, and the prostitutes, and the legalized pot, and the Dutch language, and the …
Actually, Amsterdam isn’t anything like America. Although sometimes it felt like it, because wherever we went, the streets were paved with Americans. And everyone we met who wasn’t American spoke English. (Unlike when I told my parents everyone speaks English in France.)
Yet, surprisingly, Amsterdam was the only city outside of France where I didn’t feel overly “touristy.” Perhaps that’s because the side of the tourism industry we encountered catered specifically to Americans and Anglophones. Or because most of our tour guides were American. Whatever it was – Amsterdam is a city where Americans can feel right at home … barring the prostitutes, and the pot-slash-coffeehouses, and …
From the moment we stepped foot in the city, Michelle, Molly and I were charmed by the omnipresent view of archaic bicycles flowing en masse through the streets, along the sidewalks, zooming by us with a chirruping trill! trill!. When we discovered that there was a tour – in English! – where you see the sights of Amsterdam while riding bikes like a native …well, we couldn’t say no.
» Read the rest of Amsterdam Lesson #2: Why Walk When You Can Bike? ...