Ms Traveling Pants

Ms Traveling Pants Has Moved to Another Address!!!

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 22:38:00 +0000

To those that have stumbled upon this link or that have been following since my stories of Arranged Marriages, Camel Rides, Great Paella, and Run ins with some mean Insects.....I wanted to let you know that I have officially moved off this address.

I have a new face, layout with interactive podcasts and videos. Please come and visit at

http://www.mstravelingpants.travel

Sincerely,

Ms Traveling Pants

Beginning of Hurricane Season 2009

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Sun, 31 May 2009 17:04:00 +0000

With only a day remaining until those of us in Florida enter into a new hurricane season from June 1st through the 30th of November, many are preparing by buying batteries, bottled water, canned soups, generators, extension cords, and the like.

It is with the start of this Hurricane season that I remember my first summer in Florida 2004. It was no more that one month into our lease at a new apartment and with a new car (without garage) that the trilogy of hurricanes came through Broward county and gave us a quick, crash course into Hurricane preparedness. For those that don't remember, it was the year of Frances, Jeanne, and Ivan. Notice that the storms go alphabetically alternating gender of name (Check out this year's names here).

We filled the bathtubs with water, duct taped the sliding glass doors and windows, turned the dining room table on its side to sleep behind, filled up all the Tupperware with water and froze, and filled the radio with plenty of batteries.

For those of you that have not experienced a Hurricane, they are something unbelievable. They are so powerful, unpredictable, and well scary. The whistle of the wind at 100 mph or more makes the foundation of your apartment or house crackle never knowing when it will be over. Then as a cruel joke, after a series of hours you have a small rest and the of eye of the storm passes over making everything seemingly calm. Then, it hits you again for a second reprise of the wild winds, sheets of rain, and offshoot storms.

So I am crossing my fingers for the next few months. Please spare us for yet another hurricane season. However, I will be getting ready. My trip to the store this week will include some of my hurricane favorites: Boboli pizza crusts, peanut butter, couscous, canned veggies, assorted crackers, little cocktail wienies, and nuts. (Notice that I didn't say cheese; although, it is a Ms Traveling Pants staple. It isn't the best when without electricity.)

BTW, I don't know if you noticed that I mentioned that we had no garage during the Frances, Jeanne, and Ivan scare. Somehow, our one week new Silver Honda Accord was safely parked between a SUV and truck. A large tree fell onto the two of them. We were spared.

Good luck to us all.

Do you have any hurricane recipes or survival tips?

Sleep Tight Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite!!

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Mon, 25 May 2009 17:00:00 +0000

Having stayed in five different hotels in the last three weeks, I must say that I was fortunate to miss the bed bugs (as you know my affinity to bugs and my reactions), but I did sleep tight! From California to the Carolinas to Jersey and Costa Rica one thing was for sure:

In ALL hotels, regardless of price, state, or country, there is always something very similar....the way the bed is made using military style technique.

Have you ever noticed that getting into the hotel bed is a process? There must be at least 5-7 pillows of all arrays of styles: square, regular, round, long and cylindrical. Then, you must rip free from the depths of the mattress and frame not just the comforter but the blanket and the sheet.

As a person that enjoys throwing a leg or foot out to keep my thermometer comfortable, I seem to fight the military style bed making skills that make sleeping the night through rather impossible. Through my turns and temperature adjustments, I rip the sheets free from their imprisonment and give myself some breathing room.

In this day and age where hotels are customizing sleeping experiences whether it be with both firm and soft pillows to select from and sleep number beds, can I get a bed with a non-military style preparation?

Any comments of your hotel experiences, bed making styles, or bed bugs?

Traveling with the Threat of a Pandemic

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Sat, 16 May 2009 15:26:00 +0000

This week I took my third trip since the outbreak and onslaught of news regarding Swine Flu; however, this time it was a little different as I was leaving the United States and heading to Costa Rica.

Upon entering Costa Rica not only did we have to fill out the customary forms, but also a health questionnaire regarding our current state of health. After hearing the symptoms via the seemingly 24/7 news alerts, you can imagine the questions regarding coughing, sneezing, fever, etc. I gave myself a clean bill of health by stating the obvious; I was not with Swine Flu.

I deplaned and walked to customs. The typical bank line of zigzagging to the customs officials was not unique; however, there was something very uneasy about the custom officials’ uniforms. The majority whether behind glass or not were wearing surgical masks.

Not only did this look strange, but also it certainly didn’t give me the typical warm welcome of, “Bienvenida a Costa Rica. Pura Vida!” (Welcome to Costa Rica. Everything is well!) In fact, I noticed through my time in the airport that many of the other employees including cleaning staff were wearing these masks. Was I missing something?

As this third trip was one of business, I spent my time at a travel industry exposition, Expotur.travel.While there, I only saw one attendee wearing a mask. Of course, I tried not to look strangely when I passed, but I did think she was a little silly. Additionally, when visiting the restrooms at the expo, there were various announcements reminding all that the best way to prevent the spread of germs is to properly wash hands and sneeze/cough properly. For some reason, I thought we had all learned this as part of our kindergarten classes??? However, it did cross my mind, "What will be next? Should we greet without the customary shake of hands or double kiss to the cheek??" Nah.

To make the trip a true 360 circle, at the San Jose airport awaiting my departure, the masked team didn't escape me. Not only was it the customs and cleaning staff, but also today I saw a traveling couple both wearing the masks.

Am I missing something? Should I be wearing a mask? Should they be wearing masks? Let me your thoughts on these precautions whether needed or silly.

Locals ONLY

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Mon, 11 May 2009 18:24:00 +0000

As the tourist season is coming to an end in South Florida, there is a notable difference on my drive to work as well as at the beach. Typically known as the end of "the season" by those in "the Biz," yesterday was Mother's Day. Now, without the "Snowbirds" or "Spring Break Vacationers," the beaches and roads have been taken back by the locals. And even better, so have the restaurants and bars. It is back to the locals only.

I think almost every tourist destination has to find a balance between embracing tourists and then the resentment of tourists. Some never get this equilibrium as seen on this Hudson Valley truck.

As an avid traveler, I have been witness to a large amount of tourists that want to do and eat the same as they do in their hometown without experiencing the local culture. Firsthand, I have even been a victim of being invited to eat at McDonald's in Paris. I decided to have a beer; at least that was a non-American way to enjoy McDonald's. But, travelers like those alluded to are often those that bring a bad name to tourists.

Enough said.....those of us still in South Florida, we are about to enter the time that parking at the infamous Fort Lauderdale beach is doable; there may be a table for lunch at Aruba in Lauderdale-by-the-sea, or that one can get an Intercoastal view at Le Tub in Hollywood to enjoy the big, juicy burgers without showing up a couple of minutes before noon.

Tell me about your favorite, "out of season" experience in Fort Lauderdale or your tourist Mecca.

7 Days and 11 States, My 7-11 Travels

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Sun, 03 May 2009 23:46:00 +0000

In my usual style, an aisle seat, I have taken out my laptop to reflect on my last seven days (see picture for view from my seat). Since boarding, it has been a rather interesting flight with various infants, one yappy little dog, and everyone afraid of sneezing with the worries of Swine Flu. It is during this said “quiet time” (with headphones on) that I reflect on where I have been over the last seven days.

I crossed the country last week. I left the West Coast leaving from San Diego, California with a pit stop in Atlanta, Georgia with arrival in Fort Lauderdale, Fl. After empting one suitcase of dirty clothes and repacking another, I then traveled by car for a Spring Roadtrip up I-95 through Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, and today just a smidgen of Connecticut. Yes, that is right seven days and eleven states. I would have to say I did a 7-11.

During this week, I rode in a double-decker bus (Yes, like in London), four taxis, various planes ran by three distinct airlines, one car for over 1,800 miles, one bike, and by foot. However, I was grateful that none of my travels had been my motor home, semi, or horseback; all I would consider rather unpleasant ways of travel. I did see a Segway along the journey that I wanted to try, but I passed. I will keep it on my to do list.

I have said many times, “If the government had a GPS tracking system on me, they would think that I am doing something illegal.” It is not a secret that they most likely already know my every location and move; and, if the government doesn’t know my every move or happens to lose my location, I have helped them by tweeting my travels. My twitter name is MsTravelingPant (The character limit of Twitter is disappointing.).

Heading back home, where I hang up my laptop bag (I rarely wear hats), I am looking forward to warmer weather as San Diego was unseasonably cool as well as the Northeast was rather cool with rain showers bidding me farewell today.

My next adventure will be my third trip to Costa Rica. This, as my last year’s trip was, will be for business. Regardless, all travel whether for pleasure or work leads to stories, experiences, and learning. I am hoping that my colleagues in Costa Rica make some VIP calls to make sure that the typical hot, humid weather is ready for me. Please no more unseasonable weather. Maybe Ms. Traveling Pants can wear some shorts since it is already May.

New Apartment in Poughkeepsie [Po-kip-see]

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 19:25:00 +0000

Sitting on the floor of a bare studio apartment in Poughkeepsie, NY, I sit with the windows open to let the recently painted walls dry and fumes escape. It feels nice to sit on a recently purchased, K-Mart bath mat, especially after driving a car packed with only the bare essentials from Fort Lauderdale to Poughkeepsie.

So many of you may be wondering why am I writing about moving into an apartment?? Well as any traveler knows, when on the road you live out of your backpack or your suitcase. In the case of moving, you do the same until you get to your new home and then you camp for a few days.

The unpacking begins today. The futon assembly also awaits. For those of you that enjoy putting things together, I envy you. I certainly do not enjoy such things. Directions and attention to details of nuts and bolts is not my strength. It should be fun!!!

Moving is similar to traveling. Things don't always turn out perfectly. So, I thought it would be a great way to reintroduce my quote to live by, "Every occasion in life may be classified as either a good time or a great story."

As many of my travels over the next few years will be arriving in New York, I wanted to show you the "pad."

Spring Roadtrip Part 3

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 03:06:00 +0000

We awoke for Day 3 in New Brunswick, New Jersey at the Howard Johnson. It was an interesting evening at the HoJo. As you never know what is wrong or right about a hotel, this was definitely just a place to stay and not a hospitable experience. We arrived very tired on Day 2 and entered the room, which appeared clean to immediately refuel with some apps and beer.

Little did we know last evening that the cable didn't work and that the air conditioning was difficult. As in difficult I mean, that it would work in cycles. Each 5 minutes, it would turn on and then turn off with a loud grown as if it was about to breathe it's last air conditioner breath.

This morning after one of the best slept night's in the last week (despite the cable and air conditioning noise), I awoke to a hotel coffee maker that didn't work. Can you believe it? Yes, the caffeine addict didn't have her juice. So after two very long 10 hour driving days, no coffee. It definitely was not a good morning for groggy Ms. Traveling Pants.

Now, as a lesson to all that have worked in the hospitality industry, I told the management at the HoJo upon leaving, "I am here to check out as well as let you know of some issues with the room. First, the cable is not working nor the air conditioner. And to top it all off, the coffee maker doesn't work." I was then told by the management, "We will put it on the list. Thank you Mam. You are all set." Wasn't that great customer service? I just didn't have the energy or care to protest (lucky HoJo).

So it was off to the New Jersey Turnpike for a quick two hour journey through Jersey to New York and over to the Hudson Valley. Interestingly enough, we saw no Cracker Barrels from the hotel in New Jersey through New York that was until our exit getting off of Highway 84. It was the Poughkeepsie exit 13 and ironically our last exit. The last and final Cracker Barrel #41 was there. It was a sign. It was closure.

I only saw one memorable bummer sticker from NJ to NY:

"Just say Show Me the Carfax." I guess the marketer was a fan of Jerry Maquire. You know, "Show Me the Money!!!"

However, I just wanted to chime in that most bummer stickers this year are political support stickers from the previous election. I guess I don't know why Republican supporters keep those stickers on the car. Come on, get over it and take them off!

After arriving in town, we checked into the same hotel as in March when we did a visit. We then previewed the studio apartment that my husband will be renting while attending the Culinary Institute of America. To celebrate and only a couple blocks walk from the new apartment, we had lunch overlooking the Hudson River Valley.

We walked along the river with the bright sun and a brisk breeze to digest. Afterwards, we did errands including buying a futon and supplies for the apartment. You know the type: the 32 piece dinner set, the 10 piece cooking set, bathroom supplies, alarm clocks, wastepaper baskets and the like. It was like getting ready for the dorms all over again, except that I was not having my father build a wooden bunk bed for my roommate and I.

We had a wonderful day despite rather stressful news back home regarding a restructuring of my current employer. We had a great lunch, got errands done including getting the apartment finalized, saw the movie "The Soloist", and then had yet another "last supper."

Tomorrow is claimed as, "The Day of the Resume." We plan to appear in person and drop off 40+ resumes to restaurants throughout the area. It should be fun. We will certainly get to know the area.

Keep you posted on the rest of the trip.

Spring Roadtrip Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 23:27:00 +0000

Left the Motel 6 in Fayetteville, North Carolina at 9:15 AM after a short run and getting gas at $2.03 a gallon. We started on the road after passing 24 Cracker Barrels. Within miles, we spotted another.

We have passed another 5 in North Carolina before crossing to Virginia and seeing 6 others, 2 in Maryland, none in Delaware, and so far 3 in New Jersey. We are at a total of 40 Cracker Barrels.

Couple of insights or random thoughts:

1) Did you know that in North Carolina they still have smoking sections in restaurants? Unbelievable huh?

2) The Cracker Barrel count is getting high, but I think that return trip in a couple of years will need to be Waffle Houses. I swear they are like a bad penny.

3) I am actually starting to wonder how many fast food restaurants with the Southern theme of chicken and biscuits can service through the Carolinas, Virginia, Maryland, etc. There is Cracker Barrel, Chick-fil-a, BoJangles, Popeye's and countless others.

Favorite billboards on this stage of the trip:

1) A Snickers billboard stating, "Pledge Sigma Nougat" instead of Cum Laude or something like that. I guess in my punch drunk state, it was rather funny.

2) A Jim Beam billboard outside of Baltimore, "Columbus didn't ask for directions." In little type, it mentioned, "Guys never change." After now 20 hours in car with my husband, I was needing a little humor to hit my female funny bone.

We stopped at a wonderful, Mediterranean "Hole in the Wall" restaurant outside of Alexandria and ate Chicken Shawarma with Tahini (see picture above) It certainly beat the other options on the typical roadtrip. So far it has been the highlight of the culinary trip, as I was recently on a business trip, which means I had buffet after buffet after continental breakfast, which all under perform one's appetite.

Well, just moments ago, we stopped in New Brunswick, NJ for the evening. We were hoping to make it to Poughkeepsie today, but 4 traffic hiccups in the D.C. and Baltimore area made things interesting. However, I would like to note that 511 is a helpful little tool.

Stay tuned for the final leg of the driving trip in Spring Roadtrip Part 3

Spring Roadtrip Up I-95-Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 03:14:00 +0000

Most of my posts thus far have been of memories of past trips. This week, I wanted to give you a story in “real time” of a journey from Fort Lauderdale, Fl up I-95 1,800 miles to Poughkeepsie, NY. Stay tuned for play by play pit-stops, unique insights, and more.

Day one: Start from Plantation, Fl in a packed to the brim Honda. Gas tank full (paying $2.15 per gallon), radio station a mixture of 97.3, 97.9, and 104.3. I-95 heading North after a good night’s sleep. Left at 9:30 AM to drive through at least 4 states including Florida, Georgia (gas at $1.86), South Carolina, and North Carolina.

Things to note:

There are a tremendous amount of Cracker Barrels. We counted 14 from Fort Lauderdale to Jacksonville, another 4 in Georgia, 3 in South Carolina, and so far 2 in North Carolina. After seeing so many signs, in Brunswick, Georgia (Exit 36A) we stopped for a taste of Cracker Barrel. (See picture in the rocking chair.)

Additionally a couple funny things of interest, in Georgia we saw a billboard for Chick-fil-a that read, “Stop in the Name of Chikin.” This was being painted on the billboard by two Holstein cows, one sitting on top of the other (Get it, cows trying to get people to eat chicken?). Also, we saw a motorhome pulling an SUV (see picture) that stated, “Be Patient I am Pushing this Big Motorhome.” Upon passing the SUV being pulled, we noticed that there was a female dummy in the driver’s seat. Honestly, people have too much time on there hands.

As far as interesting bummer stickers, here are my two favorites, both we saw on the same car:

Swamp life (on a Florida Gator student’s car)

Got ink? (referring if you have any tattoos)

Day one is about to finish with a couple of hours in North Carolina. Follow me on Twitter. My name is MsTravelingPant (yes they have a limit of characters).

Until Part 2....

Taking the Red Eye from San Diego

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 14:47:00 +0000

Exhausted from a three-day conference of schmoozing (see Art of Schmoozing post from March 20th), I am currently recharging in the Atlanta airport for the 2^nd leg of my nearly 9 hour cross-country trek. This week, I had the opportunity to see San Diego for my second time. Staying in the Pacific Beach area, it was beautiful. However, it was unseasonably cold at 60 degrees and wind. It certainly did not meet my expectations for Sunny California.

Each morning, I took a great run on the Pacific Beach boardwalk (see picture below). Used to the Caribbean waters in Florida, the Pacific certainly reminded me of my vacations to Cape Cod and my years in Beantown. It was quite evident, as a reaction of most when then travel to California, that everyone is very active. Whether it was 6 AM or 5 PM, people were biking, running, roller blading, surfing, or kayaking.

The conference I was attending certainly used my bi-lingual skills, not Spanish and English, but technology speak instead of travel industry speak. The days were filled with networking, speakers, seminars, and more. The evenings were packed with social functions that proved to be much more productive for business that the actual meetings.

So after a three-day marathon of networking and seminars, I wanted to just sleep through the trip home. Taking the Red Eye was the most logical to get home by Sunday AM to have what remains of the weekend (as if my body even knows what day or time it is now). However, prior to boarding at 10:30 PM PST, the gate attendant stated something that I have yet to experience, another true first. “Attention those boarding the 10:40 flight to Atlanta, please be advised that the San Diego airport has a curfew of 11:00 PM. If we are not boarded with the door shut prior to 11:00, they will cancel the flight.”

I thought to myself, “this is just perfect.” I have never heard before of canceling a flight with the crew and passengers there, weather condition OK, but it was too late in the evening. What a ridiculous idea! I guess I can understand the logic behind a curfew for the citizens of San Diego regarding the noise of the planes, but last night I could have cared less if we would have done a fly by like the scene in Top Gun to that neighborhood. I was less than compassionate for those San Diegans living close to the airport. I wanted to get home.

The rule of the curfew of the San Diego airport, in combination with a long 3 day networking event and the a la carte ambiance of flying now days, I am counting my lucky stars that I got on the plane and took off prior to 11:00PM and that Atlanta has a Dunkin’ Donuts upon at 5:00AM EST.

Do you have a Red Eye experience to share or perhaps another story regarding an airport that has a ridiculous rule such as San Diego?

Namaste in the Berkshires, now Where's the Nearest Dunkin' Donuts?

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 00:32:00 +0000

Last June for my mom’s special birthday, she and I went on our first Yoga retreat. Although I did not know at the time, I was to be spending an extended weekend at one of the most famous Yoga retreats in the U.S. It is called Kripalu, located in Western New York in the Berkshires.

As you can see by the picture, the surroundings were beautiful with the green, lush Berkshire mountains overlooking a lake. However missing from the picture is Kripalu's main building, which was a cold looking, brick structure similar to a hospital. It certainly broke my stereotype of yoga retreat architecture. As a side note, I didn't know until later that the building was previously a Jesuit seminary.

So the irony of this peaceful story comes when you imagine the current Ms. Traveling Pants in this situation. Let me set the stage.

Picture a commune of yoga enthusiasts, meditation rooms, labyrinths, massages, aromatherapy, and healthy food taken to the extreme. And, then picture throwing me, the seemingly always connected to my iPhone or laptop into that atmosphere. Culture shock!! I mean it was so healthy, caffeine was a banned substance. Just as background, I think I get a caffeine withdrawal headache at 3:00 pm if I don't have my dose. Wow!

Regardless, I adapted, like the cameleon that I am, and it was truly amazing (or should I say ooommmmmm-mazing). I am the first to admit it was very challenging…even the “gentle yoga” kicked my butt (not to mention the lack of caffeine). The full massages afterwards were a bonus, but for those of you familiar with deep tissue massages, it can be a workout as well. (If you haven't read my Turkish Baths for Dummies post, you must.)

From the two yoga classes I took a day, it was apparent that when one practices yoga daily, you can become to be a human pretzel. However, with my thirty-something tight legs from running and spinning, touching my toes is a great feat, including downwards-facing dog and other human contortionists acts they call Yoga. In fact, I think that some of the instructors were fooling us all. They must have worked for Cirque du Soleil in a past life.

Ta ta Ms. Traveling Pants followers....Namaste

The Divine Physical Feat

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 15:03:00 +0000

As most Sundays, I take the opportunity to sleep a little late and then take a morning jog for roughly 3 miles. Although used to working out quite regularly, it always surprises me how difficult it is to run (hmmm...that may be because I am not a gazelle like the Kenyan superstar marathoners). However, today I was reminded of my divine physical feat only 5 years ago in Boston for the 108th Boston Marathon in April 19, 2004.

For those of you not familiar with a marathon, it is 26.2 miles. It was first begun in ancient times by a Greek soldier, Pheidippides, a messanger from the Battle of Marathon to Athens. From experience, I must say it is a feat that takes much preparation, dedication, and an inner drive to continue through pain. Unlike many other marathons, for the Boston Marathon you must qualify in another marathon in order to qualify to run.

Somehow I was asked by a colleague of mine, if I would like to run the marathon. At first, I thought absolutely no way, but after a good night's sleep the competitive side of Ms. Traveling Pants came out in full force. Within a week, I fully investigated the possibilities of running officially or unofficially as a "bandit" as they say in Boston. Additionally, I signed up for a running group that was specifically training for the Boston Marathon. At the time, it was late October, just the right amount of time to ramp up from 10 miles a week to 15 miles to a full marathon and then scaling back right before the mid-April date, called Patriot's Day.

Mind you training for a marathon in New England from October to April is rather challenging. The winter is brutal and running outside is really the only option to get the training of the hills as well as relief from boredom. Believe me a one hour run on a treadmill is ok, but for 3-4 hours, you begin to feel like a gerbil.

After the winter grind of training, the day was approaching. I didn't have time or the running speed to qualify at another marathon. Neither did I want to raise enough money to qualify through charitable means. Honestly, to raise thousands of dollars is almost as difficult as the physical torture. So, I started to think out of the box and ask around. I thought that perhaps through my networking, I might be able to snag an official number from one of the sponsoring companies.

It was my lucky year and well one of my friend's boyfriend's unlucky year. He worked for John Hancock at the time, which was one of the major sponsors. All employees had the opportunity to get an official number and run the marathon. He applied for the number and did much of the preparation, but suffered an unfortunate injury. That is where I came in. I asked and received. I was now to be an official runner of the Boston Marathon. If you ever want to check the story, I was Mike Fleming coming in at a rather slow 5 hours.

The day of the race was not what any of us had imagined. It was not a cool April day in Boston, but a hot 85 degrees. For all of us used to the cold training, it was frightening. Yes, it may have been great for spectators, but most of the runners, myself included, were fearing dehydration and sheer exhaustion from the heat.

I started in roughly the tenth stable with hundreds of others. After hearing the shot indicating the start, it took about twenty minutes for all those ahead of me to start so that I could begin my slow run towards downtown Boston. The energy from the spectators all along the route was amazing. There are a couple of areas that are just truly unbelievable: Wellesley College for the loud, screaming women and then of course Heartbreak Hill in Newton somewhere around mile 22. Click below to experience the Wellesley College noise.

About 1 hour behind my expected time, I reached Boston and saw my friend at the bottom of Heartbreak Hill where the year previously I had been a spectator and participant in beer pong and bbq. Also, my father was waiting in Brookline. I remember that upon seeing him I didn't want to continue. My muscles were fatigued and my bones hurt with every step.

I continued. About one mile before the finish, I saw my mother. I just wanted to cry. I had nothing left. She and I continued. She was in sandals, but at that point even in sandals she could keep up as my gate wasn't more than a fast walk. I turned onto Boylston Street. The crowds went wild, yelling my name, encouraging me to make it just another 3 blocks.

I made it on only fumes of my own pride. If I hadn't told so many people that I was running, I would have pulled off much before. Upon crossing the line, I forced my arms up for the picture above to document the moment. The pain was unbelievable. After receiving my metal, the marathon workers needed to grab the microchip that was in my shoes to measure my time. As I had no strength left, the worker lifted my feet to a stool and undid the shoes to grab the chip. I remember thanking this woman repetitively as I didn't feel I could do anything but collapse. Wrapped in the typical foil blanket to keep warm, I searched for the bus with my clothing and then meet my family at the letter F for Fleming.

That evening I ate ribs, biscuits, and peanuts in the shell at a place called the Texas Roadhouse. I remember thinking that I would be very hungry, but believe it or not I was not nearly as hungry as on a typical day. Also, I was surprisingly limber that evening. However, the following morning and 2 days after was interesting. All I can say is that the toilet seat in farther down than you think and it was certainly much more challenging after 26.2 miles.

So, will I ever run a marathon again? Absolutely not, I have checked that life goal off the list.

Meeting Mr. Traveling Pants

noreply@blogger.com (MsTraveling Pants) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 12:43:00 +0000

It was in 2000. I was teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) in Roslindale, Massachusetts at the Boston School of Modern Languages during the day and waiting tables on Newbury Street in Boston at night and on weekends. I was then only 22.

As I had just came back from Spain, I thoroughly enjoyed that at my restaurant job, all of the line cooks were Spanish speaking, mostly from Colombia. With my skills in Spanish as well as years of experience in the "biz", I was quickly promoted from a server to an expediter, who is the person that coordinates the communication between the kitchen and the servers and managers.

It was in this capacity that I started to notice the shy, grill cook with the amazing green eyes. With a dark completion and stunning eyes, he got me. We spoke in Spanish, but I was later told that he was from Minas Gerais, Brazil. I had never met a Brazilian before so I was interested in Carnival, Samba, Bossa Nova, and the Rio.

It turns out that he didn't like the restaurant, Charley's, and the management so he quit very shortly there after. On his last day, I took the initiative to ask him out. I wrote on one of the manager's business cards, "Si quieres tomas unas copas, por favor llamame." (If you would like to have a couple of drinks, please call me.")

Well the phone never rang, but I was still determined. I waited for the next check cycle to come. And, I was working the night that he came to pick up his last check. I cornered him and mentioned that there was no excuse not to go out that evening as I was getting off of work shortly and he had a check to cash to buy me drinks.

So as every workplace has there favorite watering hole, so did the Charlie's crew. It was a Irish Pub called the Crossroads. It was nothing short of a dive that the BU and MIT students frequented. It had a juke box, beer, pub food, and darts.

Admilson (pronounced Aj-meal-son), had never played darts before. So with a couple of beers and a good instructor, me, we began to get to know each other. No matter whether tennis, billards, or darts, you can make the game seductive; and, that I did (thus the picture for this post).

That night, it was April 9th, 2000. It is now April 2009. Admilson and I eloped on April 9th, 2006. And, this Thursday it will be 9 years and counting.

Happy Anniversary Mr. Traveling Pants!

Ms. Traveling Pants Announced as Miss Fish

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 23:30:00 +0000

It was the summer of 1995 in a small, Mississippi River town in Wisconsin called Trempealeau. I had recently graduated from high school and was working the summer at the Historic Trempealeau Hotel as a server until the start of the Fall Semester at the University of Wisconsin at Madison. The summer was nearly half over with the most important weekend of the year upon us, Catfish Days. Always held the first weekend after the Fourth of July, it was the social gathering of the year with family members coming from a far, students returning home, and sightings of old friends from high school.

As most festivals in the area, the weekend included a parade, amusement rides, bike and fun run, golf tournament, fishing tournament, and a pageant. So, on that Thursday night in July 1995, after the interview, fashion show, evening gown, and talent portion, I, Ms. Traveling Pants, was announced and crowned as Miss Trempealeau 1995 or in slang Miss Fish as the celebration is Catfish Days (see picture of Ms. Traveling Pants on bench and court).

As Miss Fish, my duties were limited to a couple of radio shows, MC for the talent show, and riding the Catfish Days' float that Sunday in the parade as well as for nearly every other Sunday throughout that summer and fall exploring all of the Western part of Wisconsin. You can only imagine some of these events: Sunfish Days in Onalaska, Kornfest in Holmen, Applefest in La Crescent, Syttende Mai in Westby, and Octoberfest in La Crosse. Regardless of the size, they all paled in comparison to Catfish Days.

For the weekend, Trempealeau (French for mountain with its feet in the water) and its 1,000 inhabitants close down a few streets by the River for amusement rides, food stands selling fried cheese curds, grilled chicken, and catfish burgers, all with the mandatory beer tent. The town would come down to this area enjoy the rides, eat, and then drinking and dancing to a live band that had plenty of Alabama, Brooks and Dunn, and Garth Brooks to satisfy the crowd.

Although the nightlife was fun, Catfish Days has other activities: the infamous egg toss on 1st Street, bed races, arm wrestling, pancake breakfast, volleyball tournament, motorcycle poker run, and fireworks.

Needless to say, at the end of 1995, I did need to bid farewell and wish another young woman well in her reign as Miss Fish 1996. However, I still have the royal flare....elbow elbow wrist wrist.

Sincerely,

Ms. Traveling Pants

(formerly known as Miss Fish 1995)

Glow Swimming in Puerto Rico

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 00:30:00 +0000

Upon turning 30, I got together with four friends to commemorate this important rite of passage: Erin and Megan from Arizona, Jodi and Arin from the Twin Cities, and myself based in Fort Lauderdale. The plan was Puerto Rico for a short, girls only getaway in mid-March.

While on the Isle of Borinquen (indigenous name of the island of Puerto Rico), not only did I want to visit the beach, tour the historic cobblestone streets of Old San Juan and eat and drink well, but I also wanted to experience the rare, bio-fluorescent waters of Fajardo. For those of you not familiar, Bay of Fajardo is a bio-luminescent bay, which contains millions of micro-organisms called "dinoflagellates." It is truly awe-inspiring. These little micro creatures glow in the dark for a second when agitated. Yes, it is a bay of swimming micro fire flies!

There are two ways to experience the bio bay: by guided boat or in groups of kayaks both done at night to see the green glowing waters. We chose to do the second option and went in a group of around 15 kayaks led by a guide to take us out to the best part of the bay. We kayaked through the narrow mangrove alley kayak after kayak hitting numerous trees due to lack of light. Upon arrival to the center of the bay, we were instructed to jump out of our kayaks and explore. This struck me as strange as typically, staying in the kayak is something that is essential to a successful kayaking trip. However, that is not the case for the Bay of Fajardo.

We tangled our kayaks together with our paddles and jumped in. It was incredible. We were almost like comets in the water with a tail of green light following our movements. You could see your strokes and kicks, those of the other kayakers, and of course the movements of fish and other creatures. Pretty freaky! The water was warm as it was mid-March....an absolutely great time to go. So if you have vacation time saved up, now is a great time to get deals and experience glow swimming in Puerto Rico.

For those of you interested in experiencing the bio bay, there are two launches one around sunset and the other around 9:00PM. I would highly suggest the later time and even a night that has the least amount of moonlight for more vibrant colors in the lagoon. The food amenities are not that great at the park/marina so I would eat a mofongo prior to leaving and then stop at one of the small bars at the marina to celebrate your evening with a cold beer. BTW, this probably is not a good first date night. The combination of the bug repellent and water did leave a rather memorable aroma.

Any recommendations for other memorable sights in Puerto Rico?

Traveling for Work Part 3: the Art of Schmooze

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 12:14:00 +0000

You have all heard the phrase, "You snooze, you lose." Well, I think that the final installment in this series of Traveling for Work needs to include one of the most important parts of being successful and enjoying your travel for work; it is learning the art of schmooze. As the common saying goes, "You snooze, you lose." I believe that if you don't schmooze, you lose.

The art of schmooze is one of the oldest tricks to the trade. It requires great listening skills, genuine interest, good presence in a room, and well a little lesson from one of my favorite references, How to Win Friends & Influence People by Dale Carnegie.

Here is an excerpt of his keypoints or "In a Nutshell", which I believe can be used to schmooze.

Six Ways to Make People Like You:

1) Become genuinely interested in other people.

2) Smile.

3) Remember that a person's name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language.

4) Be a good listener. Encourage others to talk about themselves.

5) Talk in terms of the other person's interests.

6) Make the other person feel important-and do it sincerely.

Now that you have the 6 tips from a world renowned author...here are an additional 6 survival and success tips from Ms. Traveling Pants:

1) Be up on your current events. Know what is going on in the news both real news and gossip. There is always room for more Paris Hilton, A. Rod, or other stories.

2) Not all events are cocktail receptions, so if you have a chance to sit down. Sit at a table where many people already seated and close to the front of the room to make eye contact with the speaker and other VIPs that may be making introductions.

3) Always have business cards. Extending your business card will lead to getting someone else's business card almost without asking. This goes for airplane time too. Make sure you introduce yourself to your neighbor. You don't have to talk the entire flight, but make polite conversation and at the end of flight extend your business card. You never know who that contact from the plane knows. It is a small world.

4) If you are going to a networking cocktail function, they are particularly tough for everyone, but even a little worse for women as most dresses, pant suits, and women's attire do not allow for pockets. At a cocktail reception, you need to eat, drink, shake hands, and pass business cards all with 2 hands, one of which is almost always holding the drink. Strategy to remember...try to get to the nearest cocktail table or even place yourself next to the bar's edge. This is a great place to meet new people as it is the most trafficked area in the reception.

5) Before going ahead to other tasks, after leaving the event, write on the back of the card the date of the meeting and anything interesting that sticks out in your mind (kids, where he/she lives, common interests, or your need to send information about your product or something that you discussed). This will help in entering it into your outlook or other contact manager.

6) Hang out at the event. If the event is held at a hotel, make sure to spend time in the lobby checking your email instead of in your hotel room, check out the gym in the morning, and either get there early for coffee or stay late for a cocktail at the event. You know the old rule that more business gets done away from the office than in the office.

Now get out there and schmooze.
Remember if you don't schmooze, you lose.

Traveling for Work Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 13:56:00 +0000

As a continuation of my last post, I thought I would share a more complete list of my travel for work tips....

1) Always get an aisle seat on the plane (plenty of leg room, no need to disturb others to go to the bathroom, but you made have a bruised elbow or stubbed toes by the end of the flight.)

2) Pack snacks like peanuts, dried fruit, and crackers. The plane food is always chicken or beef. I have tried both. They are both let downs. The chicken always comes with buttery veggies that are never seasoned and mashed potatoes that seem to be instant. The beef option is typically pasta or a lasagna.

3) Get to the gate early and scope out the outlets for your laptop and phone. After the majority of the people are there, you will have no chance. Look for outlets around the pillars and even outside of the gate area like by the telephones. There is no shame in camping by an outlet to get connected. I have sat on many an airport floor.

4) Use your plane time wisely. Although the in-flight entertainment may seem fun as it is re-run sitcoms or a movie you haven’t seen, you can catch up on unread documents, write blogs, and draft proposals while killing time.

5) Never allow someone to switch your aisle for a middle seat and certainly do not allow your neighbor to convince you to lift the armrest.

6) You need an overhead baggage strategy. With every company charging for additional features previously included like baggage, people are now bringing on gigantic bags and rushing aboard to claim their overhead space. Don’t worry if above your seat there is no room, but you must start thinking a couple of rows ahead. Plus, this will help upon exiting the plane as well as your bag is ahead of your row to move the deplaning process forward quickly. It is a different strategy for Southwest which has a "cattle call" for the seats. There is no strategy except check in early early early AND fight for your place in line. If you are traveling with friends, there is strength in numbers.

7) Even if you don’t like the peanuts or chips they give you on the plane, save them. Sometimes your flight gets in late or you don’t have time to eat a proper meal while at an industry expo or event, those pretzels and peanuts will be your way to survival that is until you get back to the hotel and order room service. There will always be a club sandwich on the menu if you are skittish of other items.

Do you have other additional tips? I would love to add them to my repertoire.

Sincerely,

Ms. Traveling Pants

Traveling for Work Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 00:47:00 +0000

For the past year and a half, I have been traveling the world from Washington D.C., Berlin, Paris, New Orleans, Costa Rica, Mexico City, New York City, Las Vegas, Orlando, L.A., London, and Chicago. They often use the expression, “Road warrior” but I would consider my experience to be the Air warrior.

Always a great packer and savvy at how to maneuver through an airport certainly came in handy over the past months. I have come to terms that traveling at least once or twice a month does NOT warrant unpacking my carry-on. I have converted this rollable bag into my everyday, work bag which at all times carries my business cards, cell phone charger, camera, pens, marketing materials, and international electricity convertors.

Over this time, I have seen transportation strikes in Berlin, the co-founder of Apple speak in L.A., toured the bunker of Churchill in London, zip-lined through the Central Park of San Jose Costa Rica, listened to Jazz on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, and did a drive-by viewing of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre.

It all sounds quite glamorous that is until your body is doing the traveling. This is especially true if you are traveling in coach which seems more and more like flying a la carte everyday (Would you like a blanket with that, a second checked bag, or a soft drink?).

I can tell you already Newark has a great foot spa that gives foot massages for a reasonable price and without the need of spending a lot of time for a full pedicure. Las Vegas allows you on the way in and the way out to win the big bucks with slots at the airport. And, well the rest have blended together as I have either been jet-lagged, too tired from flying weird hours, or well they are just banks of chairs, fast food restaurants, and the same mechanical announcement via the loud speakers whether in French, Spanish, German, etc.

I have already shared with you my tip for my work bag/carry-on, but over the year, I have also acquired a few other tricks of the trade..that is the trade of business travel.

Stay tuned...for Traveling for Work Part 2 and my list of tips.

Bathing for Dummies in Turkey

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 19:46:00 +0000

"It is now safe to use your portable electronic devices," is my cue to open my laptop once again to write the next installment in the adventures of Ms. Traveling Pants. Now returning from a trip to the Hudson River Valley in Upstate New York, I had the opportunity to travel with my husband who asked me today, out of the blue, probably because of the frigid temperature, "Have you ever experienced a thermal bath?"

I wish I had a better answer, but no I have not experienced the thermal baths that are world renowned such as those in Iceland and Turkey; I must put them on my list. However, I must admit I have had one memorable bathing experience in my travels in Turkey. Unknown to me, baths in Turkey are a common thing. There are typically various bathing houses or Hamams in each town or neighborhood that one may join as a member (see picture below). I would consider them almost social or community clubs that are part of the weekly routine. Just for your information, Hamams are easy to spot as they all have high dome shaped buildings with skylights.

It is almost what in the U.S. we consider the spa culture, where you may spend the day or the afternoon at the spa with friends. While in Turkey, my travel companions and I spent the afternoon at the hamam. As it was wintertime, we all went to the locker room and removed our many layers to enter a large grey, earthen room filled with steam and the sounds of water running and women singing. Before getting our personal treatments, we were instructed to first bathe in the faucets of running warm water and then to steam on the benches.

The process of the Turkish bath involves lying down almost naked (underwear only) and being scrubbed from head to toe by a bather, typically another woman that also is well, naked. All of this may sound erotic, but believe me there was nothing erotic about the appearance of the bathers as they were 50 year olds that were rather voluptuous and we aren’t talking like the looks of Anne Nicole Smith. The bath included a complete exfoliation with a loofta. Although somewhat relaxing with the heat and water rinse, the loofta was either the strength of a brillo pad or I was ultra-sensitive.

I remember quite vividly the bather starting to sing as a component of the exfoliation and massage. It struck me as odd, but when you think about it now when you go to the spa there is either calming sounds playing over a stereo or waterfalls to induce that tranquil environment. Despite the singing, there was nothing that was going to cover up the fact that the exfoliation was taking more than the primary layer of dead skin, but I would have to say down to raw. This was combined with the fact that time and again the woman’s breast would brush me in her massage strokes. As you can imagine, this brings “personal space" to yet another level.

After what was hours, we all left the bath feeling warm and well-rubbed. I added that I felt that I would need a little recovering time before my next bath of this sort as I truly felt rubbed raw. As you can tell from my post, Turkish baths are an experience, but there is much to be said for a traditional Swedish massage or even one of those neat Brookstone feet/leg massagers.

Let me know if you have any recommendations for great thermal baths as I am awaiting trying one for my first time.

Living like a Circus Performer....Zip-lining in Costa Rica

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 01:57:00 +0000

The circus as a kid was something that was just magical. The combination of wild animals, lights, and the fantastic acrobats..who didn't want to be one of those trapeze artists?

It is apparent that the world is becoming more aware of the adventure component of travel whether one goes snorkeling, SCUBA diving, or takes to the mountains for hiking or camping. I must say that many of my travels have been adventures. If you are a true follower, you should already know of the camels, mosquitoes, brothels, scaling coliseum walls, and the like, but I can't say that I have had much experience in being a circus performer or that is until last May in San Jose, Costa Rica (By the way, if you would like to read the archives for those stories, you will get to know Ms. Traveling Pants even better.)

While in San Jose, I had the opportunity to go zip-lining. For those of you unfamiliar with it, a metal cable is strung between two trees (see above picture). The participants are harnessed in by their legs, groin, and waist while wearing protective gloves and helmet. Once prepared, you climb up various ladders to a platform in a tree where you are clamped onto the line and let loose to quickly zip from one tree to the other, trying to steer your way to the next landing platform.

Everything sounds fun and exciting that is until you are about to get into the harness and live this adventure tourism trek yourself. So first, I don't know about you, but when I watch circus performers today, harnesses are not part of the attire. They probably do not necessarily need them anymore because they are so skilled, but also because the attire for safety is NOT flattering. Imagine having tight belts at all the WRONG places. For my female readers, what woman wants more attention to the hips, butt, and belly? So, yes, it is rather unflattering for woman, but men also have it rough for both appearances and well let's just say the ride as well. There is no "hiding your equipment" when going zip-lining. The harnesses are set up just so that yes the size of the thighs and butt are accentuated for women , but for men the harness is the "Great Divide." (I will not post a picture I will let you put two and two together.)

To start any zip-lining experience you must climb. Typically, through a series of cable ladders you will arrive to your first take-off platform. When I arrived at my first platform, I was shaking; however, I have to admit some of the best moments of many of my travels have been frightening and the stories worth telling.

The first zip was scary, rather uncontrolled, and off target, but, by the second, the adrenaline kicked it. For zip #2, we needed to climb even higher to get momentum, but it was becoming more and more worth it. For the next and most difficult zip, we needed to cross a very unstable rope bridge and then climb even higher to zip across a large lake. Just to give you an accurate picture, the park was the size of Central Park in New York with a 100 meter plus zip crossing the lake from one tree to the other. Yes, it was a challenge and as an added prank, the excursion had placed a large mat, which was tied to the massive tree trunk awaiting us on the other side. If my memory serves me right, there was also a bull's eye outlined.

Needless to say, I loved the experience and was shaking for probably 30 minutes afterwards. The feeling of conquering a fear or doing something that stretches your limits is a great high. I want to go again. This time I want to do it amongst the true rain forest in a more remote area that they call the Cloud Forest. I will be going in May again this year. I promise I will take documentation that a harness and helmet are not my best look.

Ms. Traveling Pants' Top Ten Favorite Food Destinations

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:13:00 +0000

As a key component of all travels, food is the window to a different culture. I have decided to highlight my favorite food destinations along with some recommendations in a top ten list.

For those of you familiar with David Letterman and the Late Night Show, I give you.....Ms. Traveling Pants' Top Ten Favorite Food Destinations.

10. Montreal, a great blend of bilingual culture, jazz, and dining. I have had the pleasure of visiting this great city twice with my husband who is an executive chef. Believe us, if you are in the mood for a great aged steak, you must stop by Le Queue Cheval and if you have a second night to dine please go to Peel Street and visit Ferriera's Cafe.

9. Florida Keys...my number nine review is for an outstanding Islamorada restaurant called Pierre's. With its own private white sand beach and beautiful Gulf views for sunsets, this is a special place. It is high end cuisine, but you can always just visit the inviting bar and lounge on the beach patio lit by tiki torches after the sunset. For lunches, I would recommend its sister restaurant Morada Bay. With great chips and salsa, live music, and that same private beach, it is one of the best lunch joints in the Keys.

8. Also, in South Florida, you must go to Le Tub in Hollywood. Award winning for its extra large burgers, the place certainly has a unique decor with a wooden enclosed eating area with benches for parties of two to six people. Some of the tables are waterfront (you need to get there when they open to get these prime spots) while the others are shaded by tropical trellises. Be prepared to wait an hour for your burgers and the servers are "no-frills."

7. Whether in Casablanca, Marrakesh, or Tangiers, you must try the national dish of Morocco, tagine. Named after the actual cooking vessel, tagines are rather unusually shaped casserole pans with a cone shaped cover. It is with this heating and steaming method that the typical chicken and lamb combination is very moist and enhanced by the flavors of carrots, potatoes, onions, and many times dried fruits and nuts such as almonds and raisins.

6. When in New England, a stop in Beantown for "chowda" is necessary no matter what the season. Clam Chowder, a traditional thick soup with onions, potatoes, cream, and clams, is no better than at one of the most historic restaurants in all of Boston, the Union Oyster House. In fact, the Union Oyster House, near Quincy market and Faneuil Hall, was one of my husband's first jobs in the culinary field.

5. Madrid is near and dear to me so I must mention one of its specialties. Cocido Madrileno is a very filling stew usually served in two stages. The first consists of a broth, straight from a large pan where all the stew’s meat has been slowly simmering. The second course is usually presented in a tray placed in the middle of the table containing chickpeas, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and all the meat: beef, chicken, ham, chorizo and sometimes morcilla (blood sausage). Only true Madrileno style restaurants do cocido and typically only one day a week.

4. New Orleans is a great stop for culinary travels. If you haven't heard of it before, you must go to Cafe du Monde for a good coffee and the world renowned beignets, square fritters covered with powdered sugar. If you want an enjoyable Southern dinner on Bourbon Street, try the Red Fish Grill. Go for the Red fish....it is good enough to name the restaurant after.

3. Ixtapa, Mexico not only is a trendy, Mexican beach destination, but it has a great hamburger place called Ruben's. Now you don't think of burgers when you think Mexican food, but these charbroiled burgers are to die for. You can have them with the traditional ketchup and mustard, but I would recommend skipping both and going for the in-house pickled vegetable mixture to garnish.

2. Not to far from number 3, Zihauntanejo, Mexico.....This is where you would find Pollo Loco (crazy chicken) a small, local hangout that has the best hand made tortillas, grilled onions, peppers, and chicken a la brasa. Just order the 1/2 chicken, a Sol (a more authentic Mexican beer than Corona), and roll up your sleeves and dig in.

1. Nerja, Spain is one of the jewels of Costa del Sol and paella beachside is my number one pick. Paella is typically done by fire in a very shallow, metal pan (see picture above). It is a rice dish with fresh seafood, chicken, sometimes rabbit, saffron for color, veggies and is best accompanied by a nice pitcher of sangria. I would recommend Chiringuito Ayo, one of the most popular on Burriana beach.

Porto, Portugal and a street party to remember

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 13:34:00 +0000

Sometimes when traveling you stumble upon the strangest of events, not knowing that you are arriving to a town at its most important festival. By chance, this happened on a camping trip through Portugal. It was mid-June as we arrived to Porto (Oporto) a town on the Northern portion of Portugal on the Duero River which runs from the Atlantic to interior Spain. Known for Port wine, the town’s riverside is peppered with port sailing boats and historic Port makers.

Taking in the town and a few port tastings while there, we had no idea what we had in store on the evening of June 23^rd. Apparently, the Festa de Sao Joao or the Feast of St. John’s Eve is held every June 23^rd until the morning of the 24^th. It is the night that the entire population of Porto goes to the city center to honor John the Baptist.

Staying walking distance outside of the town, we left our camp to discover the “festa”. The cobblestoned streets were jammed with young and old. The smells of street vendors with grilled sardines and sweet fried dough were very inviting. Everyone a little on the tipsy side combined with the energy of the masses and music, made this street party awesome. However, I failed to mention the unusual tradition that is associated with this festival…..to hit each other over the head with a plastic hammer that squeaks. Click here to see a video of Sao Joao...

At first this tradition was fun, we bought our hammers from one of the many hammer sellers and began to feel a part of Portuguese culture with others hitting us on the head and us in return. After hours of the squeaking and of course just the physical beating upon our heads, the tradition wore thin. We were ready to walk back to the campsite tired, beaten (literally), and well now experienced in the Festa de Sao Joao.

Do you have any experiences with festival traditions like this? Please share.

Arranged marriage at three and a half!!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 00:41:00 +0000

I hope the title was enough to grab your attention. Although common in past times and still very prominent in many cultures, you wouldn’t expect a 30-something American woman to write of a true life experience of an arranged marriage.

In the early 80’s, there were various programs to help the refugees of Laos that were being held in camps. The Laotian refugees were able through government assisted programs to immigrate to the United States if sponsored by an American individual or family. Socially conscious and with the desire to help, both my parents decided to sponsor a Hmong family to live in our family’s farmhouse.

The family arrived, Chang and his wife Bua, Chang’s mother and father, Lee and Chu-Lu, and Pao, Chang’s brother. As the only English speaker, Chang was our gateway to communication and thus the point of most of reference in this post. As in most situations were communication is difficult, most of the interaction revolves around actions and in particular eating or cooking. Very proud of their cuisine, it was not nearly a day before the Hmong wanted to go to the grocery store, where pointing was the indication that we needed to buy a certain ingredient.

Laotian cuisine is filled with hot peppers and as a memorable moment around the table, my father stills tells the story that in order to show his “manhood” Chu-Lu took a whole pepper in one bite; whereas, my father took the challenge but tiny bite by tiny bite, stopping only to wipe his forehead of the perspiration.

After a short six weeks of adjustment to the new settings, culture, climate, foods, and the like, the family decided to move into town. We assisted finding a rental apartment and the furnishings. For them, it was very spacious; I believe only a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom second story apartment in central Galesville, population around 1200 people.

To thank our family for our generosity and assistance in their journey, Chu-Lu offered to my parents, “mother and father sky” a very interesting gift. As Chang translated, “It would be a great honor for our two families to be united. I would like to offer Pao to be Heidi’s husband.” Now, my father although honored thought, "What could a fourteen year old Laotian see in a three and a half year old Heidi?"

Thankfully, my father declined the offer. I have since been able to choose my own husband. However, Chang’s family was not content without making another gesture. Shortly there after, Pao married and had a daughter. She was named Heidi Hung.

The good, the bad, and the ugly Part 3

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 14:48:00 +0000

As the third and final installment in the good, the bad, and the ugly series, I wanted to mention a story from a trip to Costa Rica. I write this in route from a cold, February New York City business trip where I reminisced about this specific trip with a good friend and travel companion.

In my typical fashion, the trip was planned to be low cost, but high adventure. We made our way out of San Jose and to the volcanoes for hiking and then over to the other side of Costa Rica famous for surfing, Montezuma. Although that name implies to me something entirely Mexican AND a common unpleasant traveler’s experience (Montezuma’s revenge), Montezuma, Costa Rica in neither Mexican nor unpleasant. Montezuma is a beautiful beach area with a spectacular national park nearby.

Having found a small shared room with two beds within walking distance from the beach, we were as happy as could be...days at the beach, a brief walk to freshen up, and nights drinking beer with the locals at the beach side bar; however, that is except for one minor detail...mosquitoes.

From previous posts, you now know where this may be leading as I am a bug magnet. The area was tropical, humid and surrounded by rain forests filled with howler monkeys, sloths, and beautiful birds, making a great environment for mosquitoes.
Having mosquito netting on the beds for covering, screened in windows, and mosquito repellent, the mosquitoes still got us. The heat, humidity, and buzzing mosquitoes led to sleepless nights of cooling off with damp towels and swatting the mosquito invaders.

Not to my surprise, my body was the target of a siege. I awoke with over a hundred of bites all inflamed, projecting heat, and well itching like hell. Indeed, I was tolerant, but I certainly didn’t feel that great. Having that many bites would cause anyone to feel like they had a fever and I definitely did have one...could it have been malaria (??).....possibly, but as you know I survived to write about it.

So here are Ms. Traveling Pants’ the good, the bad, and the ugly tips about going to the tropics:
1) Be careful with citrus juices in the sun
2) Be curious about plants has it dangers
3) Be prepared with mosquito netting, repellent, and malaria kit