April 30, 2005

Heaven in Slice Form

Mired in one of those fits of boredom that leaves me checking the baseball scores every 3 minutes, I found myself desperately searching for something to occupy my time. Not wanting to expend energy on something constructive like cleaning the bathroom, and with my fridge holding little more than Caesar dressing and a 5-pack of Corona, I decided that going out for pizza might be a good plan of action. Within twenty minutes I had transformed this simple idea into a mission of titanic proportions, a quest to find the greatest slice of pizza that the borough of Manhattan could offer. Donning my elastic waistband pants and banishing all sensible notions of health-conscious eating, I set off on my journey.

My first stop brought me to Famous Ben's, located on the fringes of Little Italy at the corner of Thompson and Spring. This being one of those warm April days that reminds us that summer is fast approaching, Famous Ben's had opened its street side pickup window, where paper cups filled with Italian Ice were dispensed to the thirsty crowd. Inside, the heat from baking pies brought sweat to my brow, but whetted my appetite. I noticed a lack of traditional pizza options, with the majority of the pizzas in Sicilian form. This type features a thick soft crust with less cheese but still a multitude of toppings. Fresh mozzarella and basil topped one tray, while others featured broccoli and zucchini, or fresh tomato, onion, and garlic. I decided to try a Palermo Pizza, which has no cheese or traditional toppings, only a thick layer of garlic and breadcrumbs on top. The slice was saturated with grease, and it was a little like eating the crust of a Chicken Parmigiana, but certainly worth a try.


From here I ventured up Thompson street toward Ben's, at W. 3rd and MacDougal. Apparently this Ben is not as famous as the previous Ben, though its banner lays claim to "The Most Famous Pizza in the World." At Ben's I found the most extensive variety of slices, with BBQ chicken, chicken with ham, chicken with broccoli, chicken parm, and probably fifteen or so other varieties not featuring chicken. The slices are loaded with cheese, and have a thin crispy crust. The restaurant is also open to the street with places to sit on the sidewalk.


Joe's, at 6th and Carmine, offers the most definitive NYC pizza experience. Kids play basketball and handball in a park nearby, and a steady flow of yuppies, NYPD, and iPod toting twentysomethings stream in and out of the joint. The place is small, with limited seating, but there are some nice benches just across the street, and the neighborhood is pleasant. There is little in the way of variety here, and I noticed that most people just went with plain cheese. Toppings like pepperoni and mushrooms are available, but nothing revolutionary. That's ok though because the plain slices are enough to satisfy, with an ultra-thin crust and a good sauce to cheese ratio. The service is a bit gruff, but again, this is authentic New York.

A few blocks up, on 6th and 11th, I found an outlet of Famous Ray's, a mini-chain that dots the city. Ray's reputation precedes it, and many claim that it is the best place to go for pizza. Ray's certainly is reliable, and there's plenty of room to sit, as well as choices (though not as many as Ben's). The white garlic is a good bet, as is the loaded veggie. Ray's is certainly delicious, though it may suffer from overblown expectations. There is nothing really distinctive about the slices in comparison to what's nearby.

With four stops down, and with melted cheese beginning to seep into my bloodstream, I decided it might be time to go for a somewhat more nutritious option. On a tip from a friend I entered the Sullivan St. Bakery, a good source for cinnamon rolls and baguettes, and also for pizza. They have some interesting options here, including one pie with about an inch of sautéed mushrooms. I chose to sample the Pizza Patate, featuring a layer of crisply baked potato slices. A hard crust, lack of cheese, and luke-warm temperature also made this slice distinctive, and I found it to be a bit like eating scalloped potatoes. The bakery is in one of the quieter neighborhoods, and is certainly a good healthy choice. Well, maybe not healthy, but at least not the grease intensive cardiac-on-bread that I had been dining on previously.

For my final stop I walked uptown to Park Pizza, at Park and 24th. This is a real classic Italian joint, and every time I've been there I've enjoyed the genial atmosphere. On this day I tried the baked ziti slice, an interesting combination, though I found it to be a bit soggy. This is also where I enjoyed the most flavorful slice of plain cheese, and was able to finish the whole thing despite having eaten more pizza in the previous two hours than a normal human should consume in two months.

This is where my journey ended for the day, though I realized that I had only scratched the surface of what's available. To truly sample everything that the city has to offer would take many weeks and many people, though I encourage everyone to build off of my initial survey. Check out the info at Slice, and remember that it is almost impossible to find a bad slice of pizza in New York, unlike a few other American cities (ahem, LA). That concludes my review, and I never want to see mozzarella cheese again. Well, maybe....

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 1:34 AM | What do you think? (3) | TrackBack

April 29, 2005

Skiing in Andorra....

By: Allison Myers

On the border of Spain and France nestled in the Pyrenees Mountains, there sits a country named Andorra. A beautiful mountain country, Andorra is a place filled with multiple cultures, great food and is a wonderful place for a quick stop while touring Europe or for a week long ski trip.

This country is home to many ski resorts but, the one we chose to visit was Pal-Arinsal. Near the capital city of Andorra la Vella, this is a mountain that you can find a ski run to fit almost any level. A day of skiing will only cost you 30 Euro. Rental equipment is also quite reasonable at 11 Euro for skis and 18 Euro for a snowboard. You are also able to rent ski clothing, such as gloves, coat, or hat....just about anything you might have forgotten or didn't have room to pack.

Cuisine is mainly Catalan, but while I was there my friends and I found Pizzeria Angelo which is an Italian restaurant that has three locations in Andorra. We visited the one in Andorra la Vella, but they also restaurants in Escaldes Engordany, and La Massana. It was absolutely the most charming restaurant I have ever been in and the prices were just as inviting.

The little country of Andorra is well worth your time.

If skiing or snowboarding isn't your forte, there is a wonderful spa in the town of Escaldes Engordany very close to the Pal-Arinsal ski resort. The spa boosts 6,000 square meters (almost 20,000 square feet) of lagoons, saunas, jacuzzis, a grapefruit pool, an Aztecian pool, Indo-Roman baths, cascades, bubble beds, warm marble slates and offers just about any spa treatment that you can think of. However this does come at a price. It costs 28 Euro for general admission for three hours with extra charges for additional spa services. For those looking for a relaxing experience, it is well worth the price. Book weekend appointments at least a few days in advance as certain spa treatments fill up fast. Connected to the spa building is a tower named Sirius, where you can enjoy the wonderful mountain views from a panoramic bar 80 meters (over 260 feet) in the air. Careful they require you to buy a drink before letting you leave. This is not exactly announced prior to entering the elevator.

The view from the ski mountain is incredible. From many points on the mountain, you have a 360º view of all the neighboring mountain ranges in the distance. The one major difference that I found between skiing in Europe and skiing in the U.S. are the ski lifts. Commonly, I found myself waiting in line, not for your average chairlift, but for a t-bar. This type of lift is designed for you to sit on a bar that resembles a very large ski pole which pulls you up the mountain. This type of lift exits in the U.S., however they are very wimpy versions. If you are new at skiing or snowboarding, I suggest that you avoid these for the first day or two. Once you have a little experience under your belt these lifts become no problem and are actually fun.

SoGoNow.com by: Guest Author on: 5:20 PM

Advice: It's Vegas Baby!

My girlfriend and I have been dating for a while and I want to take her on a vacation for our next anniversary, but I have no idea where to take her. We're still young I'm 21 and she is 20. I don't want to go to any place that is going to be boring and lame, but I want the airfare and hotel to cost between $700 and $900 dollars. The other catch is that I want to go in between November and January. If I can't get any good ideas I'm just going to throw the whole idea away. Please help me if you can.

You don’t say where you are from so I’m not sure about the airfare but I do know that Las Vegas offers great packages on room and airfare. I looked at some of the packages and I would stay at the Circus/Circus if I were you. The hotel is clean and really reasonable. You can get a 3 night stay with airfare from the east coast for 2 people in November/December for $510.

Despite the fact that your girlfriend can’t drink or gamble you can still have a great time. You can go to the Adventure Dome right at Circus/Circus. This is a huge indoor theme park so you don’t have to worry about the weather. You can also walk across the street and take the rollercoaster at the Sahara or walk down the street and do all the thrill rides at the Stratosphere.

The food is reasonable and the nightlife is nonstop so you can do whatever you want whenever you want. At Caesar’s Forum the shops are open until midnight and while she is shopping you can check out the talking statues.

Las Vegas is a blast for all ages, so come and enjoy the fun.

SoGoNow.com by: Kellie Archuletta on: 5:55 AM

Day IV

After a good night's rest, our fearless travelers sally forth on their final full day of walking.

I almost got a good night's sleep that night. And compared to the previous nights, I felt like Rip Van Winkle. I awoke refreshed. The morning was bright, and it looked like it would be as beautiful a day as yesterday. We took a good look around the campsite, a small clearing amidst a grove of Billy Pines off the trail. We were in a narrow valley between two steep heavily wooded mountains on our right and left. I decided to explore the decrepit old trapper's hut the site was named after. When I walked inside, it was cool and damp, as if warmth had never penetrated beyond the doorjamb. There was an anteroom and through and arch, the bunkroom. The wood was rotting. You were advised only to sleep in here in case of an emergency, and aside from the physical faults of the place, you couldn't pay me to spend a night there. It was like the Blair Witch Project.

I returned to the world of the living we packed up the tent and shouldered our packs. I stopped and filled up my water bottle from a trickling crick just past the hut in the forest. By the time I returned to the open trail, the sun had disappeared behind a low bank of grey white rain clouds. The clouds raced over the tops of the trees above us like an army of wraiths. It looked like bad weather. We set off. The trail led directly into the forest, and as soon as we entered, we were just barely moistened by fine drips of rain hovering above us. It was quite a feeling to walk under the rain, so to speak. We could see the weather above us, but we had an arboreal umbrella protecting us. If the trail had taken us twenty feet higher, we would have been enveloped in heavy rain.

We took a half-kilometer side trip to Hartnett falls, leaving our packs behind. The trail emptied at the point where the river turns a corner and then crashes down thirty or forty feet to resume its course. The near side, past the falls was a sheer drop, carved out over thousands of years. We continued on. Nate had bumped his knee earlier in the trip, and had blisters on both feet. He was starting to be in some real pain. The trail continued up, though at a slight grade, and always under the forest. Nate was limping along, grimacing with every step. We left the denser pine forest, and entered a thinner Eucalyptus one. The trail was knotted, gnarls of root sticking up every yard or so, like a toe trying to trip us up.

We made it to Windy Ridge Hut around one and finished off our salami, cheese, and chocolate. Windy Ridge is a turning off point to Pine Valley. But Nate was hurting, and Pine Ridge was rumored to be very wet. We pushed on, slowly. We came out of the trees, and into fields of button grass. We surprised a wombat by the side of the trail. He snuffled off quickly giving us only a brief view of his backside. We crossed a footbridge, and hewed closely to a river, and then we arrived at the hut at the headwater of Lake St. Clair. We had come to the end of our journey. We had decided to take the ferry the next morning so we would catch our bus to Hobart. (The other option was waking up at four in the morning and hiking the last twelve to fifteen kilometers the next day.) The hut had a coal stove, and already there were a couple people brewing up cups of tea. The hut was known for its mice, so all food had to be wrapped and hung. This was my last chance, so I grabbed my rod and headed to the dock, to the exhortations from other campers who hoped for a change of pace from the freeze-dried food they'd been eating. I sat out on the dock. The temperature was quickly dropping and the wind whipped across the river tossing up wavelets. I never got a bite, a nibble, nothing. Yet, I was perfectly content. I returned to the hut close to dusk. No fish on the menu. In fact, I realized all I had was a can of beans, peanut butter and Nutella and my special premixed pancake batter. I improvised. I added water to the mix and rolled little dumplings, then poured olive oil over them and boiled them. Were they good? No. Were they bad? No. It was food. Later, I taught a two Norwegians and an Aussie Scopa, and finally crawled into my sleeping bag squeezing between strangers. It was only fitting that my last night rivaled my first in extreme decibel snoring. I barely slept.

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 3:38 AM

The Otheroom Venice

It started out as one room. It did. A single narrow slip of a space, just enough room for a bar, stools, and a runway model to sidle behind them on her way to the bathroom. But then the storefront next door became available, and so The Room became two rooms. Nine years later there are five Rooms in three different cities on three different coasts (if you count the Gulf of Mexico). They go under the guise of some form of Room, The Room, The Otheroom, Anotheroom...

The Room opened in 1996 on Sullivan St. in Soho. It's still there. The brainchild of owner Craig Weiss who decided to open a beer and wine bar in Soho, and somehow scrounged together enough money to do it, though initially they didn't have heat. Mr. Weiss designed the space himself, a simple, industrial, almost Teutonic look. He stripped the walls to the exposed brick, poured a concrete bar, and employed an artist to make burnished metal tables. The bar is full of interesting design features, like large industrial metal bolts as candleholders, and rings for ashtrays. Two immense blackboards hang behind the wall. One lists all the wines by the glass and bottle. They tend towards, French and new world chewy South American wines. And the over fifty beers, ten of them from taps sprouting directly from the brick wall. Don't ask for a Budweiser or Amstel. The Rooms are stocked with American micro-brews and small distribution European beers, like obscure heffeweizens and Trappist Beers. Mr. Weiss doesn't have many rules, but the ones he has he hews to closely. He never closes the bar. He never does private parties. He never closes early, and there is no velvet rope. All are welcome. Other then that you are encouraged to do whatever the heck you want.

The Room is a true testament to the adage, "if you build it they will come." Somehow it manages to be both a neighborhood hangout, as well as a destination. It would be easy to attribute its success to location, but then Mr. Weiss branched out to the West Village, opening The Otheroom on Perry St. Same concept, beer and wine, same décor, same small intimate atmosphere, same music. Mr. Weiss has slowly created a brand, an identity. A few years after that came Anotheroom in Tribeca. He has three bars, all almost identical within a single square mile of Manhattan's prime nightlife real estate, all busy most nights of the week. He then opened The Room in South Beach, Fl. Would a dark moody angst ridden bar from NYC work in spicy Miami? Those tanned bikini adorned ladies must have some untapped ennui because the bar is still going strong.

His latest venture though is by far the most adventurous. Two months ago, he opened The Room in Venice, CA, on Abbot Kinney. Prime real estate once again, only blocks from the beach. The décor, music, chalkboards are all the same. But the space is the size of all four Rooms put together. Compared to the intimate setting of the previous four bars, The Venice Room is colossal. Mr. Weiss has had to tailor his vision somewhat for the stringent LA nightlife regulations. There is a doorman checking id's, a strictly enforced capacity, and valet parking. But once again the place has been packed every night. The Otheroom Venice is clearly a welcome addition to a neighborhood thirsty for nightlife. Like a truffle pig, Mr. Weiss has sniffed out the perfect location, an area teeming with young people, and professionals eager for a place to let loose, and with very few options to do it. There are little nooks and crannies within the bar for snuggling in dark corners, and wide-open areas for the singles to scope each other out. The age group is slightly younger then the NYC establishments, and due to its size it sacrifices a certain intimacy and familiarity with the staff. But you can't argue with success. Mr. Weiss has stayed true to his vision, and his vision has not led him astray. If you want to sit with your date over a bottle of wine and talk, come on a weeknight. If you're tired of your date and are looking for a new one, try the weekends.

If you ask Mr. Weiss, he will tell you he is all about service. And he is. But I think that people keep returning to his bars because the loyalty he shows to his regulars, many of whom have become his friends, and they return it in spades. Stop in and grab a seat before long you might find you too have become a regular.

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 3:28 AM

April 28, 2005

Vietnam and Maldives

My husband, Steve, travels for a living and had accumulated a pile of Hilton points that, for various reasons, we had not used for our last few vacations. So he did some research on the best Hilton in the world, which led us to the Maldives. Since we only had enough points for six nights, and since the Maldives
is almost literally on the other side of the planet from Denver, we needed a stopover point which (after a little setback from the 12/26 tsunami) turned out to be Vietnam.

After a fair amount of haggling with United Airlines (and using hundreds of thousands of frequent flier miles), we ended up with business-class tickets on Singapore Airlines for us and our seven year-old son, Nick. The only catch with the free tickets was that I flew to Hanoi
a day ahead of Steve and Nick.

First of all, let me say from the start (although I'll probably repeat myself), we had an absolute blast from start to finish. Nick was so good all the way through--on the very, very long plane rides he slept when he was supposed to, played endless GameBoy when he was awake, and basically charmed the heck out of the Singapore Airlines flight attendants. He was a good sport about the food, the sleeping conditions, the sight seeing, the schedule, you name it. What a joy!

Flying Business Class on Singapore Airlines is the only way to fly across the Pacific (or, at least, the minimum way--First Class is supposed to be even better). The seats fold flat (although they remain on an 8 degree incline) and have on-demand movies (I finally got to see some of the Oscar contenders that I missed last year) and video games, as well as privacy screens should you want to avoid your neighbor drooling on his pillow. The flight attendants are lovely (literally--Singapore only allows them to work for 3 years and at age 25 or something they have to find something else to do) and bring you anything you want. It definitely contributed to our enjoyment of the vacation to be looking forward to our flights rather than dreading them!

Vietnam (Week 1)
My solo day in Hanoi (Saturday) was spent touring some local markets with my guide, Diep, and then returning to her home for a cooking class (and tea with her family). In most places, I was clearly the only American in miles and everyone made me feel so welcome. The next morning I did some shopping on my own in the Old Quarter, where you can find everything from silk to antiques to car parts to puppies (sold by the pound, mind you).

Steve and Nick arrived Sunday afternoon (sans luggage, which was still sitting on the tarmac in New York) and we promptly took off for a trip to a Hanoi department store (malls, by the way, are malls anywhere--complete with scruffy teenagers hanging out to look cool) to deck them out, head to toe, in Adidas. Very 1985!

Monday morning, early, we took off in the van for Halong Bay. Nick seemed to consider himself the American ambassador to Vietnam and smiled and waved to everyone along the way. Most people did a double-take, then smiled and waved back. Luckily, he missed the vendor carrying barbecued dog.

Since cars are very expensive in Vietnam (there's something like a 100% tax on them, based on the socialist assumption that only rich people can afford a car in the first place), everyone rides motorcycles or bicyles. Whole families, with baby in the front basket, tool around Hanoi on their motorbikes. Traffic lights seem
to be mostly decorative, so driving is a constant game of
"chicken." Apparently, the
first person to blink, stops, and the winner just drives as he or she pleases.

In Halong City, we boarded our junk (a traditional Vietnamese touring boat) among a throng of other people and boats. The chaos was amazing--to board our junk, we had to climb over 3 or 4 others, sometimes handing Nick (and our luggage) over 4 foot expanses of water. The junk was very "Murder on the Orient Express"--1920s elegance, with potted plants and wicker furniture and white-gloved waiters. Our travel companions included an American family living in Delhi and a European/Canadian threesome that included a strangely petulant travel writer who complained about everything. We had lunch (lots of fresh seafood, all of it cooked whole, still with eyes) underway and then reached Surprise Cave--a very large tourist attraction, but cool nonetheless--which was probably 200-300 yards deep and full of hidden pools (the "surprises"). Then we kayaked about an hour to another island with a lookout on top--there were some lovely views of Halong Bay from there.

Tuesday morning dawned foggy and rainy. After breakfast (where we had the most amazing fresh French bread), we kayaked through a large tunnel into a sheltered lagoon surrounded by high, rocky cliffs. The islands in Halong Bay are formed from limestone and are covered with lush rainforest. The entire area is a World Heritage site and so is protected; when you get away from the sound of diesel engines (the junks), you hear an amazing variety of bird and monkey calls, but the jungle is so thick you rarely see any wildlife. Since we were on kayaks, we were able to get through some much smaller tunnels (one of which was so low you had to virtually lie down on the kayak to get through) into lagoons (there's a Vietnamese word for them, but I never learned it) that very few people ever get to.

We also kayaked through some of the floating villages where the local fishermen and their families live. In the villages, children learn to row sampans (small, flat boats) almost before they can walk--we saw lots of kids playing tag and chasing each other just like kids here ride bikes. They have floating pool halls, schools, stores--everything is on the water because the islands are too steep to allow for building.

On Wednesday night, we returned to Hanoi (with the petulant travel writer, who complained the entire 4-hour drive) and went to dinner at a local place recommended by Diep. It was basically a family's dining room and the proprietress cooked everything in her home kitchen. The food was wonderful (although by that time, Nick was not eating much but rice--he was a good sport, but only to a point) and cheap and after dinner the entire family came out to meet us and practice their English. After that, we went to see the Water Puppet Theatre (you'll have to look it up on the web if you're interested because we didn't get any pictures) that was cool but very hot and crowded--I spent most of the time fighting off a claustrophobia attack, but still tried to enjoy the show.

Our suitcases arrived in Hanoi while we were up in Halong Bay, so when we got back to the hotel on the last night, we were all able to shower and get into clean underwear--what a treat! We spent that night in a suite (courtesy of Steve's Diamond status) that was very lovely (but wasted on us, since we were still battling jet lag--meaning we fell asleep at 8:30, absolutely exhausted) and the next morning, Steve and Nick left at about 8:00 for Singapore, via Bangkok. My flight was several hours later, so I had time for some more shopping (not that I did a lot of that--if you give me too many options, I pretty much shut down). At 1:00, my flight took off for Singapore (a mere 4 hour flight) where I met up with Steve and Nick to fly to Male...

Maldives (Week 2)

I met up with Steve and Nick in the Singapore airport which is rather like flying through the Somerset mall in Troy--lots of very upscale shopping and very upscale shoppers. Nick was in heaven. Our flight to Male was coach, but it was empty so we all had room to stretch out and get a little nap. We arrived in Male near midnight and checked into an airport hotel because the sea planes only fly during the day (logical, since there are no landing lights on the lagoon). The next morning we took a bus over to the Hilton's private waiting lounge at the seaplane terminal, where we realized we were no longer in Kansas... We were greeted with the first of many cool, refreshing, lightly scented washcloths and cappuccino, then ushered onto the sea plane with bottled water and ear plugs. (Meanwhile, they were weighing every piece of luggage we had, including the camera case, to make sure we didn't bring the plane down.)

I was a little nervous about the seaplane, but from my front row seat I could see into the cockpit, where our Canadian pilot was wearing shorts and bare feet. I figured if he didn't look tense, I didn't need to be tense! The flight took about 30 minutes and we really started to get excited when we circled Rangali Island and could see the villas and the coral reef. There are thousands of coral atolls in the Maldives, of which the Hilton has two, connected by a 300-yard causeway. Rangali Island is tiny--you can walk end-to-end in 10 minutes and side-to-side in about 10 seconds--and there are 67 villas, of which only about half were occupied.

We were greeted at the dock by a very nice Maldivian woman (Nava) who gave us a brief tour (well, duh, the island isn't big enough for an extended tour) before getting us checked in (more cool, refreshing washcloths) and into our room by noon. My jaw dropped when we walked into our villa.  I knew we were staying in an over-the-water bungalow, but I had no idea it would be so luxurious. It was probably 800-1000 square feet, with a bathroom to die for, a private deck (with stairs into the lagoon, where you could snorkel), a private hot tub, theatre system with surround sound, an espresso maker, and a huge bed sprinkled with rose petals (too bad we were sharing the space with Nick!). It was amazing. I have never stayed someplace that made me feel so pampered as that Hilton.

It wasn't just the room, either. Everywhere you went on the island, everyone (from the gardeners to the front desk staff) greeted you by name and genuinely smiled at you. And, of course, there were the ubiquitous washcloths! There were so few guests, though, that you almost always felt like you had the island to yourself. The beaches were always deserted, the hammocks were always empty, and even in the one-and-only restaurant there was always a good table available with 2 or 3 hovering waiters to cater to your every wish.

We (who am I kidding? Steve deserves all the credit) definitely squeezed every last bit of value out of Steve's Hilton points for this trip. But it was still expensive. Breakfast (which was a lavish spread on a daily basis and downright obscene for Sunday brunch) was included, but lunch and dinner set us back at least $300 per day. And we weren't eating all that extravagantly. The food *was* very good though and there was a lof of it. One night, we had an Asian buffet with "stations" for a variety of different foods--Thai, Indian, Japanese, Maldivian, etc.--and it was so excellent we could barely stagger back to our villa afterward we were so stuffed.

Basically, our days went something like this: Get up at 7:30 and go to breakfast. At 8:30 Steve and I would get on the dive boat to go scuba diving while Nick went to play on the beach near the spa under the watchful eyes of the gorgeous Thai spa girls (there's probably a more PC term, but who are we kidding?). At 11:30, we'd get back, shower, and head to lunch (more cool, refreshing washcloths), then play on the beach for a little while. At 2:00 we'd return to our villa where Nick and Steve would watch a movie while I snorkeled or read a book. At 5:00, there was happy hour (who's going to miss free drinks when Diet Coke is normally $4 a pop?) and then dinner on the deck over the beach, watching the sharks and eagle rays coming into the shallows to feed. Steve and I would have an after-dinner drink while Nick took a flashlight up the beach to hunt for crabs. By 9:00 we were all fast asleep, ready to do it again.

The diving (and snorkeling) was interesting, but the not the best we've ever done. They've had a lot of problems in the Maldives with bleaching of the coral from ocean warming (especially during El Nino), but the fish life is outstanding. In some places, the schools of small fish were so thick, you could hardly see through them. We saw lots of eels and sharks (mostly small ones, except for a 5 foot tiger shark) and a ton of lion fish. Someday, I'm going to live somewhere that I can dive all the time, because I just love it.

The days all blended together and it was incredibly relaxing. On the last day, our flight out of Male left at midnight, so they gave us a late checkout of 4:00 and we spent the day playing on the beach and caught the last sea taxi at 5:30, then had a couple of hours to wander Male. The Maldives are an Islamic country, so probably half the women were veiled. It made me feel a little odd, wandering around in my sundress, but everyone was entirely nice.

We flew from Male to Singapore (which was starting to feel a little like home, we'd been there so often) and arrived at 7:00am. Our flight home didn't leave until 5:00pm, so we stored our luggage and took the train into the city. Since Singapore has extremely strict penalties for vandalism (remember the American teenager who got caned for spray-painting?), everything is super clean and super efficient. We ended up in the botanic gardens, where a nice Singaporean lady gave Nick some bread to feed the koi and the turtles, then toured the orchid garden, which even Nick thought was pretty cool.

And then we came home to deal with the mountain of mail and our jet lag. We had a great time, we would go again in a heartbeat, and we're glad to be home.

Contributed by Bekki Matthews

SoGoNow.com by: Guest Author on: 4:53 PM

Answer for Anniversary on the Cheap

The following question was posed on April 26th, 2005:

To whom it may concern:

My girlfriend and I have been dating for a while and I want to take her on a vacation for our next anniversary, but I have no idea where to take her. We're still young I'm 21 and she is 20. I don't want to go to any place that is going to be boring and lame, but I want the airfare and hotel to cost between $700 and $900 dollars. The other catch is that I want to go in between November and January. If I can't get any good ideas I'm just going to throw the whole idea away. Please help me if you can.

Dear Anniversary Couple,

Without knowing where you are traveling from it is harder to know exactly how much the airfare will be. But for the prices you indicated and for the times you want to go, I would recommend going to Costa Rica. You can find specials on the web and through the major travel sites for packages that are less than $400.00. My girlfriend just went to Costa Rica and payed $350.00 for the whole week, including airfare.

Costa Rica is central America without the conflict. In November - January it is warm, sunny days without the swelter. Also, because you would be traveling during low season, you would have plenty of time to yourself: You can hike beautiful trails, find unclaimed waterfalls, and do what you want when you are alone out in the jungle.

As for nightlife, Costa Rica is almost always a happening place and you should never be bored there. And even though your girlfriend is twenty, you never have to worry about not getting into night clubs.

Don't throw the idea out just yet. You can't beat Costa Rica. Your girlfriend will never forget it.

-Marcel

SoGoNow.com by: Marcel Hovsepian on: 3:58 PM

April 27, 2005

Kailua Farmer's Market

Standing at the edge of a long table, I can can detect the briny scent of the ocean mixing into the flowery tropical winds. Before me is enormous faded yellow tub filled with live shrimp, their bug eyes staring up at me as their oblong bodies twitch in a desperate attempt to free themselves of this plastic enclosure. Every few seconds one of them will launch himself from one end of the tub to the other, barely missing the edge and falling back down amongst his imprisoned comrades.


To the left of the shrimp barrel are two gray containers holding assorted clawed sea creatures. An old woman, a scarf wrapped around her neck despite the warm weather, gestures with a long a finger toward the crabs and asks how fresh they are. The young man standing behind the table gives no immediate answer; only the slight hint of a smile begins to spread over his lips. He sticks his index finger into the plastic tub, where a crab lazily closes its claw over it. The man howls in mock pain, and then quickly breaks into a loud barrel laugh. The message is clear: these crabs are fresh.

The Hawaiian Islands have slowly succumbed to modernization over the years, as the green hillsides sprout up Wal Marts and Starbucks. It becomes more and more difficult to find fresh food and natural local products that have not been processed like Velveeta. But standing here hunched over the crustacean-laden table I realize that I have discovered a slice of authentic Hawaiian commerce. This is the Kailua Farmer's Market, located at Kailua Intermediate School on Oahu, and a place where the tools of delivery may be contemporary, but the goods and spirit of community preserve the ancient Polynesian traditions.

At 9 AM every Thursday the good people of Kailua line up outside the market like Star Wars fanatics waiting to buy Revenge of the Sith tickets. Merchants have parked their vans and pickup trucks with folding tables in front; a buffet of products with handwritten cardboard signs fills the parking lot. When the floodgates are opened the people pour in with eyes eager to find the freshest fish and ripest fruit. At the entrance two women are working furiously to keep up with the demand for their garden vegetables. Their hands move with precision as they pull off bunches of lettuce and spinach, jam them into bags and make change for the increasingly long line of customers.


The most sought after products are, by no coincidence, signature Hawaiian. These are the lengthy flowers that rise out of their stems with all the colors of a Kailua Bay morning. Market-goers proudly display their long bouquets composed of two or three tropical blossoms. Heliconias are a favorite, with their straight stems giving way to interlocking triangles of oranges and yellows the color of Starbursts. One stand features an assortment of orchids grown to vibrant fruition in Hawaiian volcanic soil. By far the most popular flower is the majestic Bird of Paradise, a plant the locals are quite proud of. Out of a thin stalk the Bird of Paradise rises to a rounded green trough with purple edging. From this base sprout the orange leaves that shoot straight upward and then curl backwards over themselves, forming the plumage of the bird for which it is named.



Just across from the orchids two men are standing behind three tables joined together to form a display for their catch of the day. Ahi, Papio, Aku, and Moi lie on their sides, their round fish eyes staring up at me from beneath the ice they are packed in. Patrons, their mouths watering with the anticipation of a fish dinner, crowd around to select the meatiest looking one.

Right next door a short Polynesian woman is standing with both hands behind her back, proudly gazing over her collection of fruits and vegetables. Bunches of bananas the size of a small child are piled next to her; they are small and green, and are to be eaten before ripening in accordance with Polynesian tradition. I recognize a few of the vegetables in front of her; guavas and pineapples are easy to spot. Less identifiable is a group of egg-sized pods, their green surfaces spotted with formidable looking spikes. The woman notices my curiosity and attempts to explain her wares to me in a mash-up of English and her vowel-laden native Hawaiian tongue. I do my best to follow along, but eventually leave even more confused than I had been. One word I did understand is Papaya, and later that night I am feasting on the tropical fruit, its flesh the same stunning orange as the flowers outside and the glowing Pacific sunset.

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 12:49 AM | TrackBack

April 26, 2005

Money Exchanges: A Cautionary Tale and Words of Wisdom

I looked down as the man shoved the money through the opening in the glass encasement: One hundred and five Euros. This had to be a mistake--I just gave the Parisian man two hundred American dollars and this was the exchange I received?

I quickly tapped on the window, shrugging my shoulders and furrowing my brow as if to say, "I'm sorry, I think there is a mistake." The Parisian man seemed confused so I told them that he obviously messed up the money exchange. Surely two hundred dollars would buy me more than one hundred and five Euros. I knew that the dollar was steadily losing ground to the Euro in the national market, but this was ludicrous.

The minuscule man said there was no mistake and pointed to a tiny sign that was stuck to the side of the glass casing. It said that all transactions would be subject to a fifteen percent fee on top of the traditional transaction fee. I demanded a refund. The grisly chap told me no problem: It would just be a fifteen percent fee plus the traditional transaction fee. Translation: No refunds.

If I ever wanted to cuss in French this was one of those times. I had been swindled! Or to be more accurate, I had let myself be swindled which is even worse. I forbade my friend to exchange his money there and we stormed out of the place. It was the first time I had ever stormed out of a place in my life. I never even really knew what that meant. I mean, I had walked out of places before, I had left places before, but I had never stormed out--until now.

I walked with my friend until we came into the center of Paris where we a found another money exchange neatly tucked away in the corner of the mall. The woman behind the infamous glass case looked pleasant and innocent enough: Red hair, in her late forties, and no conspicuous scars. I scoured the place for any discriminating signs or obvious deficiencies. Failing to find one, I whispered to my friend Alexis to go ahead and make the deal. It was if we were exchanging money for cocaine and I kept on peering over my paranoid shoulder.

He slowly handed the woman one hundred and sixty dollars. She counted the money and we waited. She slipped him back one hundred and twenty Euros. Now I was even more in a fit. Alexis had given less American dollars than me to exchange, and still received more Euros than I.

From that day on, I understood the importance of doing a proper money exchange.

To this day I find it difficult to exchange money when I arrive in a foreign country: I look at everybody as if they just want to charge me fees, give me bad exchange rates, and squeeze the value of my dollar. For months we plan, we save and we scrimp to pay for that vacation and the last thing we want is to just give our money away to small ferret-looking men.

As a result I have decided that either you learn how to curse in French or whatever the native language is, or you learn some helpful tips to keep yourself from foolishly departing with your money as I did. If you choose the latter, I have found the following to be helpful advice when I want to exchange money:

Tips:

• Always ask the cashier, in advance, how much you will receive in return for your desired amount of money. Make sure the price you are quoted is the price after fees. Only then make your decision. I did not realize you could ask before you gave your money away. I would just stupidly wait to receive my money, not knowing what I would get as if I was waiting to see what was the prize behind door number three on the Price is Right.

• Try to exchange as little as possible at the money exchanges in the airport. They give you one of the worst rates and charge you hefty transaction fees.

• Always read the rules before exchanging money. In Paris I overlooked the sign that said that there was a fifteen percent exchange fee--don't make that mistake.

• Exchange money at a place that uses the same one time fee no matter how much you exchange. This is almost always better than being charged a percentage of the money you exchange.

• Banks usually offer the best exchange rates. If you cannot exchange your dollars inside the bank then the ATM has become a ubiquitous life saver. Invariably your bank will charge you a fee for using an ATM, but that fee pales in comparison to the money you will save from the better exchange rate.

• Try to exchange a lot of money at once, rather than through several smaller transactions. You will save yourself a large number of transaction fees. If you are scared to exchange a large amount of money at once, then try to bring less cash to your destination and use that ATM card. (Just make sure your bank allows you to use your ATM card internationally.)

• Often you can use your credit card to receive cash money. The rates are often highly favorable and you will usually only pay a minimal transaction fee. In certain parts of the world using your credit card can be a dangerous venture, so be wise. (Side-note: Only recently certain credit card companies are charging extra fees when the money is calculated with a different currency. Check the rules on your credit card. I believe Capital One does not charge any such fees.)

• Check the current exchange rate at www.xe.com so that you know what to expect when you arrive at your destination. You can also exchange money before leaving for the airport. Try www.ordercurrency.com.

• Don't be discouraged when you realize that you got scammed or lost money in a transaction. This is a part of traveling and accept the inevitable. If you choose to grab a picket sign and protest in front of the establishment that gave you a bad money return rate, just make sure to run quickly if the proprietor of the shop walks outside with a club or bat of some kind.

• And the most important tip of all: Never, never exchange money with small Parisian men who wear toupees.

SoGoNow.com by: Marcel Hovsepian on: 4:34 PM

April 25, 2005

Eating in Barcelona...The Spanish Way!!!

By: Allison Myers

The Spanish may not be as well known for their food as the Italians or French but they take it just as seriously. Most travelers find that, while in Spain it is not so much the food that they must adapt to but the times at which they eat. With lunch customarily starting until 2 p.m. and dinner restaurants not opening until 8 or 9 p.m. unaware tourists can be left famished and searching for a meal.

Breakfast is normally cafe con leche (coffee with milk) and toast with jam or with ham and cheese. This is normally eaten around 9 or 10 a.m. It is small meal that is taken very lightly and normally not served in most restaurants. In contrast lunch is taken very seriously as it is the main meal of the day for most locals. If you are able to wait for this meal you will find that it is fantastic! Almost all restaurants offer a "Menu del Dia", Menu of the day, which normally consists of two-three plates, dessert, and a drink which is sometimes a bottle of wine. All for 7- 15 this tradition is a great way to eat inexpensively at nice restaurants. Dinner is a small to medium sized meal. If waiting until 9 at night to eat is not feasible do what the Spanish do eat Tapas. Tapas, or snacks, are a great way to sample the gastronomic traditions of the region. Eating tapas are also a great way to hold you over until the restaurants open again for dinner! Now the harder part WHERE to eat...here are a few of my favorite restaurants in Barcelona.

The Bagel Shop- As mentioned above Breakfast isn't that big of a deal in Spain. However, this is a place that breakfast bagels can always be found. Top them with plain cream cheese or make a sandwich with tuna, tomatoes, chocolate, salmon, or just about anything else you could think of. Carrer Canuda 25 (Placa de la vila de Madrid)

La Veronica- A great affordable place for pizza and salads. If you go to the very back of the restaurant it opens up into a plaza with tables and chairs for you to enjoy your meal in the sun or in the shade of the trees.

Carrer Avinyo 30, Tel. 934-121-122

La Bella Napoli- This is a fabulous Italian restaurant, outside of the central city, but is only a short walk from the Metro stop Poble Sec. Staffed with friendly Italian waiters the food will satisfy any palate. Be sure to call ahead for reservations at this popular resturant Hint: Around the corner is an Arab pastry shop. If you are too full for Bella Napoli's wonderful Tiramisu but need to satisfy your sweet tooth go there to pick up a pint sized dessert.

Carrer Margarit 14, Tel. 934-425-056 (Arab pastry shop: Carrer Blai 46)

MariMes- This restaurant is a great place to stop for your afternoon meal if you are visiting Park Güell and feel like exploring it is a great place. The menu is only is Spanish so be careful. Though the Ensalada de queso de cabra con vinagreta y mostaza (Goat cheese salad with mustard vinaigrette) is an amazing salad, enough food to be a meal for two people and at only 12 Euro is an incredible deal.

Placa AlfonsX El Sav 2, Tel. 934-356-436, www.marimes.com

Casa Calvet- This restaurant has one of the most amazing wine lists in the city. With rooms designed by Gaudi it is a wonderful experience. The prices are high but if you order appetizers as meals it can be quite affordable. They also serve you free nibbles that the chef has specially cooked that night.

Carrer Casp 48, Tel. 934-124-336, www.casacalvet.es

Vildsvin- Though the window you can see the wait staff shelling the oysters for orders as they come in. Go in to order a glass of cava, Catalonian champagne, and a few oysters or an entire meal of incredible European food.

Carrer Ferran 38, Tel. 902-520-522

Los Caracoles- The name of this restaurant, The Snails, gives away nothing about this fabulous find. Outside in the street you can see and smell the chicken roasting in the flames. Order it to go with your snail shaped bread and you will not be disappointed. An authentic Catalan menu and building located in a quaint part of town.Just off la Rambla behind Placa Reial.

Calle Escudellers 14, Tel. 933-023-185

Restaurante Zeinab Beiruti- This is another resturant that is a bit of a trek to get to but well worth it. While studing in Spain this is where my friends and I loved to hang out. Not just because of the great food and amazing sangria (made with fresh mint!). But mostly because of the wonderful people that worked there. They were so welcoming and nice to my friends and I we would spend hours there doing homework or smoking huka (a flavored tabacco) and chatting with them. If you go you must try the desserts!

Calle Verdi 31, Tel: 932-378-870

General Tips:

-I urge you not to go to McDonalds, KFC, or Burger King, they might seem inviting because of familiarity but it will not be where you find a great meal. If you are in a hurry and want a very quick cheap bite try Spain's version of fast food: Pans & Company or Bocatta.

-No matter where you are in the world the best thing to do is to go to a side street off a main road and find a restaurant there. Not only will they be cheaper but many times the food is better as well.

-In Spain some restaurants have large pictures of plates of food out side their door. Avoid these, most of these are frozen TV dinner style meals that are over priced and not very good.

-Tipping Rule- Spanish waiters/waitresses are paid much better than in the States or Britain, a tip of 10% is rarely expected. Tipping is more of a sign of how good the service was. In general a bit of change is left at casual restaurants. If you feel the need to leave a tip 5% is most you could leave without seeming out of place. This does however exclude upscale restaurants that have gotten used to the American and British style of tipping.

SoGoNow.com by: Guest Author on: 5:00 PM

Tight Travels by: Cynthia Rice

So, you've booked your vacation using frequent flyer miles, far enough in advance to avoid their fee.

Your room is at a budget hotel, you even brought along a friend you don't really like to save money.

The travel guide book you're clutching is checked out from the public library.

If you were under investigation, I'd have to deduce you are a traveler that likes to save a buck.

But... have you thought of everything?

Consider these cheap traveling tips to get even more meal for your mile:

1. If you're in a major city, be brave! Avoid taxis and rental cars, check out the public transportation system instead. Chicago and New York have the best!

2. Seeing a show? Look for the half-price ticket booth or volunteer your time as an usher in exchange for free tickets.

3. If you're in school, don’t forget your student ID. If you’re not, remember to bring your AAA card. Many museums and amusement attractions offer significant discounts.

4. If you can't leave without a tacky souvenier, scope around for a local dollar store. They'll always have something with the city’s name on it!

5. Most of the nicer hotels have microwaves and refrigerators. Cooking meals and packing lunches saves a bundle in meal expenses. Or save the roll from your continental breakfast for a mid-morning snack!

6. Plan ahead for weather! Pack a scarf, umbrella, an extra pair of sunglasses. Nothing bites into a budget more than unnecessary convenience purchases!

7. Bring a travel coffee mug and extra water bottle to fill up at the hotel. A dollar a pop for any of these items quickly adds up.

8. Scope out what bookstores and coffee shops offer free poetry readings or open mics. Most of this local entertainment you’ll find for free!

9. Avoid hotel bars or restaurants. Their drinks and meals are often over-priced due to convenience.

10. Speaking of the drink, if you're a girl, sleazing a free cocktail from a boy at a bar is a great way to drink for free. But if you're that boy at a bar, watch out for that girl, and run!

So, that's it, folks. Even the penny-pinchers can travel in style. Just please, when that guy offers you a Rolex for twenty bucks and you consider accepting - take my word for it. It's time to go home.

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 8:02 AM | What do you think? (1)

April 24, 2005

Married in Vegas

Las Vegas has a thriving wedding business. Over 200 chapels are listed in the phone book and every major casino has at least one chapel. It is not uncommon to see a bride with dress and veil in a casino or walking along the strip.

 

I was put in charge of my brothers first wedding a few years ago after he called me from Oklahoma and said “Hey, I found this great deal on a wedding- a ceremony, limo, room and photos for $99.00. Will you go check out the place for me?” As a dutiful big sister I went to the place in question and was appalled that my little brother would consider such a location. The hotel was a dump, the limo was beat up, but worst of all, right outside the chapel doors was a huge noisy video ski machine. Being naturally overbearing, I decided to take matters in my own hands and find a better wedding site.

 

We (my brother, sister-in-law and I) decided on The Little Church of the West. This church has won Best of Las Vegas for 8 years running. The packages are reasonable and the church is darling. The church is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It has survived 4 moves and is the oldest original structure still on the strip. It is located on the corner of Russell and Las Vegas Boulevard.

 

At the opposite end of the spectrum from The Little Church of the West is a drive- thru wedding chapel. My husband and I renewed our vows after 10 years in the drive- thru of The Little White Wedding Chapel. I didn’t know what to expect. When we drove up we were greeted with a menu of our wedding options. When the customer representative came up to the window we were barraged with questions, such as “Do you want the honeymoon teddy bear added to your package?” “Do you want the souvenir t-shirt? We only have extra large left.” “Do you want photos?” At this point I was having misgivings about renewing the vows. Once we decided on our package we paid our money and the minister was asked to come out. I was so surprised because when he started talking he gave the best wedding ceremony that I have ever heard anywhere. He brought both my husband and me to tears, and neither of us cried at our first wedding. I honestly have to say that this wedding ceremony was more meaningful that our original wedding. He was defiantly worth the entire $75.00 package. This is located at 1300 Las Vegas Boulevard.

 

I would highly recommend getting married in Las Vegas if you don’t want to plan a wedding or spend a lot of money. You can find any type of ceremony here that you want and you don’t have a long trip to a honeymoon destination afterwards. You can honeymoon right here in the Vacation Capitol of the World.

SoGoNow.com by: Kellie Archuletta on: 10:07 PM

Green Sand is Awsand

Puu Mahana or Green Sand Beach located at South Point on the Big Island is an amazing hike and adventure. My family and I have gone several times and I would gladly take a friend or family member on the hike again.

As you are driving down the South Point road you will see a weather beaten sign directing you to Green Sand Beach Visitor’s Center. You may park in the lot in front of the center. Someone may come out and tell you that you need to register your car for $5. This is not true. If you tell them this they will back down. It also helps if you have a copy of The Big Island Revealed the best book about the Big Island ever written in my opinion in your hand. Then they will just turn around.

 

The hike takes about 45 minutes. The path is flat but hot, so carry water. If you don’t want to take the scenic route along the coast keep turning on to the left hand path as you come to a cross-roads. It doesn’t seem like you will get there this way, but you will, trust me.

 

Once at the beach is it a little scary to realize that you have to descend down the cliff. It is much easier than it looks and at one point when it will seem that you have to take a rather large scary step someone constructed a small sturdy ladder to help with the climb.

 

The water can be treacherous; if the locals aren’t in the water don’t go in. This hike is worth the trip even if you can’t go into the water. I love to just sit on the beach and let the sand run through my fingers. It is the most the most amazing sand. It is olivine, black lava and the usual white sand.

 

This is one of the few green sand beaches in the world. Don’t miss it!

 

SoGoNow.com by: Kellie Archuletta on: 9:52 PM | What do you think? (2)

April 22, 2005

London Calling

When it comes to excessive pageantry and overblown pomp and circumstance, no one pulls it off quite like the British. Whether it's a royal wedding or the knighting of Sir Mick Jagger, the Brits know how to put on a good show. This is evidenced daily every summer day right outside Buckingham Palace, where the Queen's Guard shows off its colors with all the subtlety of 20 inch subwoofer.

At least an hour before the royal display, Londoners and London tourists begin to jam themselves into all the nooks and crannies surrounding the Queen Victoria Monument. Generally, the good viewing spots disappear faster than a Hugh Grant romantic comedy. At precisely 11:30, the red -coated guards commence their procession, with surgical precision and mirrored symmetry. Row after row of sentinels files by, led on by the thundering band, and followed by the elegantly head dressed horsemen. And trailing all of this comes my favorite, a little cart specially designed to sweep up the horse droppings. Truly an example of human ingenuity at its best.

When in London, expect to see an excess of this type of spectacle. Don't expect to dine well afterwards. I'm sure that there are some good restaurants somewhere in the city, but they must be less conspicuous than the rest of London culture. I found that everything I ate had a strange fishy flavor, and that many food vendors had an obsessive penchant for deep-frying everything. The best place I found to eat was at Harrod's, a massive department store that makes Macy's look like 7-11. In addition to offering every possible designer jean and silver bracelet available on earth, Harrod's also holds within its walls a food court with a cornucopia of cookery to match the excessive nature of the store. All types of ethnic fare are readily available and decidedly satisfying.

The unofficial center of London (to me at least) is Piccadilly Circus, a traffic circle surrounded by pulsing electronic billboards, flashy nightclubs, and bustling commerce. Theatre patrons stream into and out of the nearby productions, and newspaper vendors shout out the latest rugby results and hawk their rags from seemingly every street corner. A good place to stay is right nearby at the Regent Palace Hotel. It has rustic charm and a friendly staff, and also shared bathrooms. This was particularly confounding to me, as I often got lost on the way back to my room and found myself wandering through the hallways clad in nothing but a bath towel.


If you're looking to escape some of the hectic atmosphere of the city one popular spot is Hyde Park, London's counterpart to New York's Central Park. The park bursts with greenery during the summer months, and is often filled with rollerbladers and bicyclists. Flashy green and white lawn chairs are scattered on the grass, but you have to pay to sit in them (you also may find yourself paying to use the bathroom). The best thing to do in the park is to rent a paddleboat or rowboat and take in the sights while afloat.

London is of course known for a few of its famous monuments, including the iconic Big Ben. A great place to view the gigantic clock is from the south bank of the Thames, just across Westminster Bridge. Right on the shore of the river one finds the London Eye, a Ferris wheel that dwarfs the typical county fair wheel. The enclosed cabins are the size of my living room, and provide the best way to see the city from high up. Afterwards, it's a short walk across the bridge to view Big Ben and the Parliament building up close.

The history of London is heavy with epic tales and illustrious heroes. Nowhere is this more evident than in Westminster abbey, an ancient cathedral that echoes with the ghosts of past centuries. Here, one can explore the story of a nation with a grand tradition and view the final resting spots of everyone from Henry VII to Mary Queen of Scots. More than just a historical site, the Abbey overwhelms its patrons with the magnitude of its significance and the gravity of its past.

For a continuation of the historical exploration, a good destination is Portobello Road. If your legs are up for, skip the subway (or "The Tube") and take a walk down Bayswater Road to get there. This will take you past the park and into Notting Hill, and good place to wander and see the underbelly of London culture. On the outskirts of the city, Portobello Road is a short little stretch of pavement with houses painted every color of the pastel rainbow. Shops and street vendors line the road, each one with some relic of Old London. Ancient coins and antique chairs are waiting to be discovered here, and each merchant is eager to relate the tale of his wares.

There is enough to do and see in London to last for weeks and weeks. London Bridge, Horse Guards, and Kensington Palace are just a few of the other landmarks. There's also the Jack the Ripper tour, which follows the path of the notorious killer. Right next to the London Eye you'll find the London Aquarium and also the Saatchi Gallery, which houses an engrossing collection of modern art. If you can forget the less-than-satisfying cuisine and high prices, you'll find that London is the embodiment of Cool Britannia.

SoGoNow.com by: Allison Myers on: 6:21 PM | What do you think? (2) | TrackBack

Bangkok Bound

Like most people, I work a regular 9 to 5 job to pay the bills. It's nothing glamourous mind you, but it affords me the ability to save up money when I can and accumulate much needed vacation days. Since I started my current job, I have been dreaming of the day when I can finally put those vacation days to good use. I graduated college some years ago and I never took time off and opted instead to jump into work right away. Since then I've been dreaming of going someplace exotic to really kick back and have some fun adventures. The more settled you get into your career, the harder it gets to take extended time off despite often having more vacation days, so I really wanted to do an exotic trip the first chance I got. Several months ago when my Thai girlfriend mentioned she really wanted to go back and visit her family in Bangkok, I jumped on the opportunity to go with her. I have been counting the days and months until that time, dreaming of taking some much needed time off and finally that time has come.

Now the first thing I realized when taking this trip is that roughly 32 hours of my first day off would be spent flying, which anyone can tell you just isn't fun. As much as I did enjoy the Korean soap operas about getting out of debt on Delta/Korean Air, after a while it just gets hard to sit there. However, something has to be said about the difference in quality on the airlines once you leave the United States. On the trip from Florida to Los Angeles, I had to pay a hefty price on board for my bagel sandwich and for a 4.5 hour flight saw the beverage cart maybe twice. The flight attendants often instill fear into those that ask for something beyond that. However, once we switched from Delta to their international partner Korean Air for the duration of the trip from LA to Bangkok, the quality of service changed dramatically. Suddenly friendly "Air Hostesses" were routinely walking the aisles offering beverages and food every few minutes and checking to see if the passengers needed anything. I almost fell over in shock having forgotten what airlines used to be like. I almost wanted to cry and tell the air hostess "Thank you for treating me like a human being and not transported human cattle."

Finally, we landed in Bangkok around 1AM on Wednesday after departing at 7AM Tuesday morning. To put things in perspective, I live in Florida and it gets pretty hot and humid during the summer here. If you fly to Florida, you can feel the humidity the moment you step off the airplane, but nothing could have prepared me for the tremendous humidity and heat I felt the moment we stepped off the airplane in Thailand. On the way to baggage claim beads of sweat began to pour down my face and I instantly felt compassion for all those brave snowmen that had since withered away under the sun during the passing of Winter to Spring as I too was melting away. However, I was just happy to finally be there and get some much needed sleep that night.

The next day I started my sight seeing right away after a short boat ride down the river to the Temple of the Emerald Buddha at Wat Phra Kaew. The temple was constructed during the reign of King Rama I in the eastern section of the Royal Palace when Bangkok became the new capital in 1782. The temple took two years to construct and the Emerald Buddha was placed in its present location in 1784. The Emerald Buddha itself was carved from a large piece of Jade and reportedly was discovered by an Abbot around 1434 after a large Buddha covered in stucco was discovered after lightning struck a chedi in Chiengrai in northern Thailand. The statue was brought to the abbot's residence and one day he noticed that the stucco on the nose had flaked off and the image inside was green in color. He removed all the stucco and found the buddha was actually made of jade underneath the stucco. The architecture of the temple was amazing along with the elaborate statues and paintings along the walls of the temple.

Next to the temple is the Royal Grand Palace which houses several accessible ground floor rooms with historical weapons guarded outside by the Royal Guard. These Thai soldiers, like their British counterparts, stand still without moving and will not acknowledge your presence. The Palace itself is also a wonder and although no longer inhabited by the King, was is mostly  inaccessible to the public.

After some great Thai food from one of the many street vendors, we headed down the river again to Wat Arun, the Temple of the Dawn. It has a massive tower called a Prang about 80-85m high, surrounded by four smaller towers. Decorated on the sides are broken porcelain plates placed to make the shape of a flower. The temple originally hosted the Emerald Buddha until it was eventually moved to Wat Phra Kaew. Although not as big as Wat Phra Kaew, the temple is still very beautiful and another major tourist attraction when visiting Thailand. The best time to view it however is during sunset with the sun setting behind the temple. There are several restaurants to view this from across the river or if you don't have time, several postcards show this as well.

Those were the two major tourist attractions for Day 1, other highlights for the day included going to a shopping mall and some other areas, however for shopping there are much better places to go to find bargains and I'll include those in