June 2008 Entries
What makes a meal memorable? Over the years of my travels I’ ve had many memorable meals in cities all over the world. Some of them have been in Michelin three-star restaurants, while others have been in dining places that Michelin must never have found, for in my opinion, they were every bit the equivalent of the three-star supremes.
But not all of my best dining memories are associated with restaurants. Some recall remarkably fine food from street vendors in Thailand; others the improvised kitchens of town markets in Mexico. Many were in my own kitchen at home.
I’m don’t claim to be anything but an average cook. And I’m not above serving food that’s come prepared from a shop or caterer. No, what made the meals in my kitchen memorable were the people who were there, the things we talked about, an event we might have been celebrating or something that made it a happy occasion for everyone.
Which leads me to make a general statement: truly memorable meals depend on more than the food, the wine and the service. For me, that "more" is the person or persons with whom I’m sharing the experience.
Nevertheless, as with most generalizations, I can think of at least one exception, a divine meal that was mine alone.
It happened in South Africa, outside of Cape Town. I had been staying at the Mt. Nelson hotel in Cape Town, and decided to take a car and drive to the southernmost point on the African continent—not Cape of Good Hope, as many think, but rather Cape Agulhas, about 100 miles southeast of Cape Town.
I asked the hotel concierge to have a picnic lunch ready early in the morning of my adventure, and the kitchen came through with honors—ham and watercress on croissant, a tasty bit of Fairview Chevin cheese with garlic and herbs, an orange, a small cup of malva pudding (a traditional Dutch apricot sponge cake) and a half bottle of a light Chenin Blanc.
The picnic lunch could not have been better, but what made it—and the entire day— exceptional was the location. As I sat on a hill overlooking the ocean at Cape Agulhas, I saw a phenomenon that I’ll never forget—the dark blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean meeting the greener waters of the Indian Ocean—an amazing sight! Worth driving 200 miles in one day to see? You bet!
I’d love to hear about one of your memorable meals, too. And I’m sure other readers would as well.
Paula "Bread, Wine and Water" Gifford
I don’t suppose every visitor to London shares my passion for locating the houses where famous—or infamous—Londoners lived. Each time I’m in the great capital (or as William Cobbett called it, The Infernal Wen—take your pick), I make time for a half day’s pursuit of homes of celebrated Londoners.
What makes this possible is the scheme of Blue Plaques, introduced by the Royal Society of Arts around 1867. The first plaque ever awarded was placed on a house where Lord Byron had lived, but that house and its plaque have been demolished. Today, there are more than 600 Blue Plaques marking the homes of Londoners considered worthy of such commemoration. One requirement, however, is that the person is either dead or at least 100 years old.
The plaques are found all over London, but there are concentrations of them in certain areas, particularly the boroughs of Westminster and Camden.
To go "Blue Plaque hunting," you’ll need a guidebook, and fortunately, there are several good ones.
Two of the best, The Blue Plaque Guide to London by Caroline Dakers and The London Blue Plaque Guide by Nick Rennison.
I’m a great lover of the writings of Charles Dickens, whose seven houses where he lived at various times bear blue plaques. George Eliot has two plaqued houses; Benjamin Disraeli, four; George Bernard Shaw, one; and Virginia Woolf, two. There are even two Blue Plaques on buildings where President Eisenhower, then General Eisenhower, worked on the plans for the defeat of Germany in World War II. And the house where John F. Kennedy stayed when visiting his father, who was the U.S. ambassador to Great Britain, is also plaqued.
If you’re on your way to London soon and can’t find a copy of a blue plaque guide, let me know whose house you’d like to see, and, if it has a Blue Plaque, I’ll send you the address.
Paula "House Detective" Gifford
The first time I became responsible for traveling alone with my daughter, she was 13, and I was a wreck. Worry about handling all the arrangements on my own was a relative minor concern compared to worries over Lucy having a good time. After all, if she didn’t, there would be no one to blame but me. Moreover, friends had told me that traveling with a young teen was one of life’s peak challenges. A four-year-old can be kept busy for hours with a few Legos; a ten-year old can be happy with paper and coloring pens. But at 13, a child’s critical faculties are entering a period of maximum utility. Regardless of the situation, she or he can find something to criticize.
But I was determined to make this pas de deux work, as there would be quite a few more in the future before she was on her own. Besides, I wanted this to be an event that we would both remember as being a happy time.
So the first question was where should we go. I knew if I asked Lucy, she’d say, "I don’t care," as she invariably does when I ask her to make a choice about anything. But if I gave her a few alternatives, it might be easier to get an answer.
I ran through a bunch of possibilities. A city? No, we’d end up spending too much time and money shopping. A beach resort? Not a good idea, we both have the type of skin that burns easily in the sun. A driving circuit for family visits? Are you kidding?
What was left? And then it hit me—a soft adventure expedition, with enough activity to keep Lucy too busy to complain and not exceed my physical capabilities.
With lots of help from our travel agent, we chose a rainforest resort in Costa Rica where there was more to do than we could squeeze into our ten days—birding, trail hiking, hot springs, river trips, visits to a volcano and no end of animal and reptile life that we had never seen outside of a zoo.
I know the trip was a success, because we continue to talk about it to this day. It made choosing our subsequent vacations a joint effort with little or no stress. That first experience of traveling together primed us for all the good times that followed.
If you have any stories or advice about vacationing with young teens, I’d surely enjoy receiving them.
Paula "On My Own" Gifford
Among the many mementos of my late grandmother that I’ve kept is her recollection, which she wrote in a letter to me, of a voyage she took with her parents when she was only eight years old. I think you’ll enjoy comparing her experience to that of today’s world of cruising.
"As a young girl, I sailed from New York on a 144-day world cruise aboard the Cunard Liner, Franconia, in 1928. Cunard was the first company to offer ocean cruising, and it launched the Franconia in the early ‘20s expressly for that purpose. The Franconia introduced trend-setting arrangements such as one class of accommodations, cabins with private bathrooms and everything on the ship painted white. The cargo holds were converted to what were called Pompeiian baths—a forerunner of today's spa. There was also a squash court and a gymnasium.
Our itinerary included ports that are familiar today, but in those days, more like the other side of the moon. I recall the Dutch colony of Batavia—now Jakarta, Indonesia. Rio had no buildings taller than three floors. And we weren’t allowed to disembark at Peking (Beijing) because a revolution was going on.
When the Franconia did call at one of the voyage's 33 ports, the locals treated her visit as the big social event of the year—Batavia's Harmonie Club got up a ball using the ship's orchestra; all passengers became honorary members in Singapore's exclusive Raffles Club and at Colombo, Ceylon (Sri Lanka), the Mount Lavinia Club offered everyone bathing privileges in waters that they assured us were shark proof.
I’ve kept many mementos from that trip, one of them a brochure advertising the cruise. It shows the fares starting at $2,750!
Naturally, I remained interested in The Franconia and tried to keep track of her service throughout the years following our cruise. I know that she served as the accommodations for Winston Churchill's staff at the 1945 Yalta meetings that decided the fate of Europe after the end of World War II. Not too long after that, in 1956, she was taken out of service."
Do you have any stories or mementos of travel in the years when it was much different than it is today? If so, please share them with us.
Paula "Steamer Trunk" Gifford
I’ve just finished reading a newspaper column reporting the fact that increasing numbers of travelers are abandoning the Internet and going back to travel agents for their trip arrangements.
No surprise as far as I’m concerned. My one brush with the Internet in arranging flights to an out-of-town meeting was a disaster.
This was a one-day, turnaround trip, so no hotel booking was involved. My meeting went along very efficiently, enabling us to complete our agenda in about half the time we had anticipated. So naturally, I grabbed my things and made a bee line for the airport, hoping to catch a three o’clock plane, instead of the seven o’clock I had been booked on.
I arrived just in time, as the standbys were being called. When I asked if there was any space left, the gate counter attendant assured me there would be, but when she looked at my ticket, it was another story. The type of ticket I had purchased through the Internet could not be changed! If I wanted to get on the earlier flight, I’d have to buy another ticket at full price!
Well, the Scots in me wouldn’t allow me to do that, so I sat for four hours, fuming and vowing never again to make my own travel arrangements via the Internet. Maybe the fault was mine for not reading carefully all the "boilerplate" associated with the transaction, but the point is that there was no human involved in the transaction to make sure I understood the limitations of what I was buying.
Ever since that experience, I’ve made all my travel arrangements—simple to complex—with the help of a knowledgeable travel agent. The one I use happens to be a CTC (Certified Travel Consultant), a credential that testifies to a certain level of expertise. With her help, I know I’ll get the best available prices on flights, hotels and rental cars. Moreover, if my itinerary changes in mid-trip, I have an able advocate to cut through the difficulties that are inevitable in trying to make changes in any type of reservation.
My agent happens to have been in business for a good number of years, and consequently has developed relationships with people in various parts of the travel business. In other words, she has "clout," and as a frequent traveler, I can attest to the fact that clout is an invaluable asset.
After working with me on many trips, my agent knows my tastes. So I don’t have to tell her I want an aisle seat, or a non-smoking room on a high floor away from the elevators and equipped with down pillows on a queen-size bed. And if I’m going somewhere I’ve never been before, she very helpfully includes a list of restaurants and, depending on the destination, even a brief description of the area and what’s worth seeing. In the infrequent instances when I’ve gone somewhere she’s not been to and feels she doesn’t know enough about, she’s involved another agent who has a particular expertise in that area, and gotten the help she needs to complete my arrangements with confidence in her recommendations and choices.
That’s what you can expect from a pro! Top-notch personal service without having to take hours out of your own day to try to accomplish what she can do better in less time and with less effort.
A good travel agent is an essential element in assuring successful travel. I feel so strongly about the importance of the agent’s role, that I’ve asked the Passport Newsletter people to allow me to compile and publish a list of agents that friends, business associates and I, myself, know to be highly skilled and fun to deal with. I’d be very grateful if you know of a good travel agent whom you could recommend for this list. And please mention any areas of special expertise your agent might have. Thank you.
Paula "Book it!" Gifford
If, like me, you travel frequently to what might be considered unusual or exotic destinations, it’s likely that sooner or later you’ll run into someone or something that defies logical description.... something that leaves you saying, "Well, maybe...?"
I experienced just such a happening several years ago on the island of Grimsey, about 25 miles north of Iceland, to which it belongs. Grimsey is only about two square miles in size, with fewer than 150 inhabitants. But contrary to its apparent negligible importance, Grimsey has a geographic feature that attracts travel buffs from around the world—the Arctic Circle runs across it, well marked and posted, and an essential photo op for world travelers.
Just having had the opportunity to be photographed on the line and spend one night on the Island’s guest house would have been a tale more than sufficient for dinner party conversation. But there was more.
Also staying at the guest house were several Swiss and German academics. Thinking they were on a study trip, I asked one what they were looking for, but he evaded my question, and I let it drop. That night, just before going to bed, I noticed the professors had all gone out. This was too much to let pass, so I sought out the housekeeper.
"Where have the others gone?" I asked.
"Hunting."
"Hunting what at this time of night?"
"Gremlins. They come each year and spend two nights looking for them."
"And do they find them?"
"No one knows. When you ask any of them if he saw a gremlin, all he’ll say is, ‘Yes, but you have to believe in them in order to see them."
I’ve never seen a gremlin, on Grimsey or anywhere else, have you? In fact, if you’ve had any "strange encounters" on your travels, please share them with us.
Paula "Stuck in three dimensions" Gifford
Do you take a camera along on your travels? I do, and if there are any statistics on this question, I’d bet the overwhelming number of travelers do so, too.
Back in the pre-digital days, I was a confirmed Nikon user, with a range of lenses, a tripod, light meters—so much equipment that it all had to be carried in a fitted case of its own. Not especially convenient, but I was ready for any "photo op" (although no one had yet thought to use that term) that might come my way.
But one evening—I think it was after a day of climbing in the Scottish hills, camera case in hand—a hot bath and a large whiskey having put me into a state of intense contemplation, I experienced a genuine epiphany: "Why am I schlepping 25 pounds of camera equipment around with me every day? Some days, I "shot" nothing, nothing worth shooting, in my estimate, having appeared. On another day, I’d taken great pains to set up the perfect shot of Sacre Coeur de Montmartre only to see an even better shot on a two-franc postal card.
Well, that was enough. I soon sold all my equipment and went cameraless for a couple of years and got into the habit of buying lots of local postal cards.
Then along came the "point and shoot" cameras, which, being so light-weight and easy to handle, revived my picture-taking interest. But even better, it wasn’t too long after the point-and-shoots that the digital revolution gathered cameras into its orbit.
I now travel—and indeed carry with me at virtually all times—a good quality digital camera about the size of a package of cigarettes.
But the more important result of all my camera tribulations is the fact that now the only thing I want to photograph and keep in my memory books are pictures of people—friends old and new, someone just casually met—perhaps a pleasant waiter in a bistro—and even strangers who seem to personify their surroundings.
Best of all, I look at these photos again and again, with happy memories each time.
Tell us about your approach to travel photography, which may even be a ‘non’ approach. Do you look at your pictures after you’ve returned? Do you show them to friends?
Paula "Stop squinting" Gifford
I’m in the process of having my house’s back porch enclosed, with the work being done by a contractor whose crew–at least for this job–is composed of Spanish-speaking men.
While talking with one of them, I asked where he was from, and he said, "Ecuador."
Trying for a feeble joke, I asked if there had been many revolutions when he was living there, and he replied, "Only downtown."
His attitude exhibited an interesting a point for travelers: What looks to the outsider as a major upheaval, may, to the ordinary citizens, be nothing more than an isolated occurrence that doesn’t interfere with their daily lives.
Be that as it may, travelers have to consider the likelihood and degree of political instability they might be exposed to just by being in that same place and doing the usual round of tourism attractions.
Every situation of this sort is unique and must be judged by gathering all possible information, including if possible, hearing the experiences of travelers recently returned from the area. A friend of mine was in Yemen for several weeks during the recent military actions taking place there. She reported normal conditions everywhere she went, which obviously didn’t include the area where fighting was going on. And I’ve heard similar reports from people returned from other so-called "hot spots."
So my point is, if you’re thinking of visiting an area that’s been reported as having outbreaks of political unrest, don’t let that alone stop you. Do some research—more, certainly than just reading a daily newspaper or watching TV newscasts. The U.S. Department of State publishes an annotated list of Travel Warnings and Travel Alerts, which are very helpful in determining the safety of virtually any area of the world (see http://travel.state.gov/travel ). These should be you main guide, especially if you have no first-hand information from current or recent travelers in the area.
You may find that certain areas where actions are taking place are still considered safe for travelers. But with others, although it may intrigue your sense of adventure to be able to report you were in Laplokovakistan while a border war was raging in the North, be very cautious in deciding whether or not to expose yourself and whoever might be traveling with you to situations you very likely would not be able to handle.
Personally, I limit my adventure traveling to seeing how much foie gras I can consume in one week.
Have any of you had experience traveling in areas of political instability? I’d appreciate hearing about it.
Pamela "Safety First" Gifford
A recent survey, well publicized in the travel industry, asked 4,000 hotel owners and managers at locations around the world what they thought about visitors from various countries. Alas, Americans fared poorly in several key categories.
Americans are rated among the least tidy as hotel guests. They are also considered noisy, and they lead all other nationals when it comes to complaining about accommodations.
Why should this be? No doubt there are several respectable psychological studies that would throw some light on the subject, but my own belief is that a great many Americans carry with them a certain amount of swagger that derives from the (now questionable) belief that they come from the world’s leading country. Thus they expect to be treated with the respect due to citizens of such stature.
But in truth, not enough of us act as if we are guests when in a hotel. We just don’t realize that the attitude that says, "I’m paying for it, so why shouldn’t I have whatever I want" doesn’t win friends and influence people—even people whose job is to provide service.
Most of us are used to having as much as we want of everyday items such as clean towels and linens, soap and other toiletries. So we don’t stop to think before calling for more, and when they don’t come as quickly as we think they should, we complain. In addition, many of us, men especially, take it for granted that someone will pick up after them. In a hotel, someone does, of course, but there’s no need to make the job more difficult than it need be.
Despite these negative charges, there are characteristics of Americans that the hoteliers compliment. We are the most generous when it comes to tipping service people. (Does this reflect a realization that we could have behaved more thoughtfully?) We’re also the most likely to make an effort to learn a few words in the local language, so we can at least say "please" and "thank you." And we’re the most interested in the local cuisine and are eager to try it.
Finally, and perhaps most embarrassingly, Americans are judged as having the worst fashion sense when traveling....and I believe it! So the next time you’re getting ready to take off for that Caribbean Island or Tuscany or the beaches of southern Spain, try on a typical daytime outfit— sandles, shorts, Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses and sun hat—then load up with all your essential portables, including camera, ipod, Blackberry, binoculars, tote bag and a newspaper or magazine, and finally, LOOK AT YOURSELF IN A MIRROR. Is this the image you want others to remember?
Not every traveling American makes these mistakes, so tell us your own rules for enjoying your travels while leaving an impression of kindness, courtesy and appreciation in your wake.
Paula (the Appreciated American) Gifford
I am a constant reader, and I’d bet you are too. Forgetting about magazines, journals and newspapers for the moment, I always have two or three books "going." And one of my favorite reading subjects is travel, especially the classics of travel literature, some of which were written a century or more ago.
So with the hope that you’ll tell me about some of your favorites, I’m going to list ten of mine in the Travel Literature genre. In future blogs, I’ll get into travel guides, travel cookbooks and other travel miscellany. But for now, here are some books to enjoy on a summer beach, or at the lodge apres ski, or while zipping through the Hungarian countryside on the Orient Express.
- The Plumed Serpent by D.H. Lawrence - A classic of Mexico, its culture and its myths.
- The Light Garden of the Angel King by Peter Levi - Journeys in Afghanistan, the crossroads of ancient commerce.
- Italian Hours by Henry James - Essays by an English prose master and enchanted Italophile.
- Montaigne's Travel Journal - A 16th century account of traveling by coach from northern France to Rome.
- Istanbul by Orhan Pamuk - A contemporary account of one of the world's great cities by one of its greates writers.
- Prospero's Cell and Reflections On A Marine Venus by Lawrence Durrell - Portraits of the Greek Islands of Corfu and Rhodes.
- Maximum City by Suketu Mehta - A Bombay writer's love-hate relationship with his incredible city.
- Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West - Impressions of Yugoslavia and the sources of the politics of today's Balkans.
- Fabled Shore by Rose Macaulay - A single woman's exploration from the Pyrenees to Portugal within sight of the sea.
- A Time of Gifts by Patrick Leigh Fermor - A walking journey up the Rhine and down the Danube in the year Hitler came to power.
Please tell me some of your favorites; I might have missed them.
Paula "Constant Reader" Gifford