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.
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So you’ve got your toiletries all packed and ready to be checked in, but what do you do when you need moisturizer on the plane itself?
TSA guidelines require that all carry-on gels and liquids fit in a quart-sized zip-top baggie. I confess, I used to fill this baggie to the brim, resulting in one airport security agent fondling it quite closely. What can I say? One needs hand-sanitizer, lip balm, eye-drops, and skin moisturizer, among other things, if one doesn’t want to end up dehydrated from that recycled air on planes. And let’s faced it, though they may be travel-sized, those containers still contain bulk.
But I’ve found a way to slim down that plastic baggie! For my upcoming international flight, I gathered the sample packs of skin-care products I had accummulated in the past. People, you know what I mean. These are sample packs you find at cosmetic counters, at your local community pharmacy, even at places like Whole Foods on occasion. You invariably grab one or two, and either use it immediately or toss it into a drawer.
Well, if you’ve saved a bunch of these, now is your time to use ‘em. Simply dropped them into the baggie. They use up far less volume than a travel-sized container, meaning you can use the extra space for other liquid/gel products you’d like to bring. And the samples can be easily discarded once they’ve done their job. Each sample usually contains two or three uses’ worth, so even tossing three into your baggie will be more than enough for your in-flight needs.
An opportunity to travel light yet sensibly? I’ll take it!
One powerful site in Paris is also one of its most unassuming, at least from the outside. A passer-by might easily overlook the small patch of land partially hidden by hedges as he or she hurries off to Notre Dame, which is a mere stone’s throw away. But the Mémorial de la Déportation, located at the edge of Ile de la Cité, is far more compelling than one could expect.
The memorial, dedicated to French victims and survivors of the Holocaust, actually lies at a lower level, down some steps from the little park above. I had arrived during the lunch-break hour, so I waited at the park for the memorial to reopen. I initially wasn’t even sure I was at the right place, despite having read the small sign by the even smaller gate. I had expected to find a skinny black brick building, inside of which would be lined with pictures of the Holocaust and some placards of history. With its lovely, serene view of blue skies and the surrounding Seine, this park above—and whatever waited below—was at odds with that image.
Just before the steps is a signboard for visitors, describing the history and purpose of the memorial. I read it as I waited. A row of triangles, consisting of various styles and color, lined the bottom of the sign. One has to be truly stoic of heart not to feel a lump in the throat on reading the meaning of each triangle, and to whom each symbol is sewn on to: German Jews, French Jews, homosexuals, stateles persons, gypsies, Jehovah’s Witnesses, anti-socials, “deviants”. . . .
Those who don’t, according to some definition, “belong.”
» Read the rest of Mémorial de la Déportation ...
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 ...
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