Well my friends, it’s almost here—only three more wake-up days until we depart for Cancun. I thought it would never come.
And yet, as the vacation I’ve waited so long for fast approaches, I’m still wary of articles like this (especially since my family keeps sending them to me). Sure, there’s a bit of a drug mess happening in Mexico right now, so Chris and I promise to keep our eyes and ears open while we’re there. Plus, in my own defense, the craziest thing I plan to do in Cancun involves a book, a drink, and a chair by the side of the pool. And I thoroughly look forward to it.
Bis bald, friends! I may or may not get to write again before I leave, but if I don’t, expect plenty of updates when we return next week.
Let’s all just take a moment to pray for the people of Egypt. It’s a bit crazy what’s going on over there right, and whatever comes of the protesting, hopefully it can end peacefully, and with as few people hurt as possible.
Bis bald, friends….and keep your civil unrest…well, civil!
A security official demonstrates a full-body scan at an airport in Hamburg
It’s not a totally new story— there are now 385 full-body scanners at 70 U.S. airports, with another 1,000 scanners planned by the end of the next year. There has been an uproar. People are mad. They feel defiled. They feel like this is American and what happened to our civil liberties? I mean, you’re practically naked on those things!
I know how my dad feels. He sent the family a long email on his sentiments—and they weren’t happy.
Me, I’m not sure where I fall in this argument. I’m all for things that will make me and other people feel safe when traveling. But to be honest, I’ve been on many a plane since 9/11, and I haven’t once felt unsafe.
And that was before full-body scanners.
So what’s the impetus? What’s the point in taking such drastic measures? And now with all this backlash, the Transportation Security Administration said today that they would reconsider the policy on passenger screening, although no immediate changes will be made. So what message does that send, exactly? We think this policy is important enough to use in the first place, but now that some people are complaining about it, we take it back?
What are your thoughts on the full body scan? Will you be getting one this Wednesday, one of the busiest travel days of the year for the U.S.? Click here to read a discussion on the NY Times about it.
Bis bald, friends! I’m headed upstate for Thanksgiving day and then to Jersey the day after for second Thanksgiving. Have fun wherever you’re headed!
Heading to catch a flight? Expect to spend some time with airport security first.
There was a piece in the WSJ today about how certain European air officials are accusing the U.S. of imposing “useless and overly intrusive travel security measures.” These officials called certain practices “redundant” and “burdensome,” and even, in some cases, a violation of travelers’ privacy.
Now yes, I’ve complained about airport rules before. The lines are long. The fees are insane. The people can be rude. But the one thing that you won’t hear me complaining about is the security. Sure, it’s annoying to have to wait in a long line and take your shoes out and pull your laptop out of its case and occasionally be pulled over for a random search (yes, this has happened to me more than I care to remember), but I feel much better knowing that every single person around me is being held to the same standards of the search before boarding the same plane that I am getting on.
That’s not to say that there might not be some redundancies in the system, and that’s not to say that there isn’t ever any corruption, but at the end of the day I still say— if you’re going to give up something that’s redundant within the system, don’t make it within the security system.
In the article the British Airways chairman, Martin Broughton, is quoted as having said, “America does not do internally a lot of the things they demand that we do,” and calling on British authorities not to “kowtow to the Americans every time they want something done.” But the article doesn’t specify exactly what these “things” are that we don’t do here in the airports security-wise. We take off our shoes, too, Mr. Brougthon. We take our laptops out of our bags, Mr. Broughton. If you could be more specific, I know I’d certainly be interested to know what it is that we aren’t doing here (and if maybe we should be).
Consumer Reports had an interesting little tidbit today about the hazards of traveling via cruise line [and no, I’m not just talking about the possibility of boarding a toilet of the sea cruise].
According to the article, “After more than a week of the company providing virtually no updates and no media interviews, on Friday visitors to the Cruise West site were told in blunt terms that all operations were ceasing as of Saturday the 18th and that only the line’s Danube Cruise, scheduled to depart on Wednesday, will operate.”
Poor sad cruise travelers. Luckily for us readers, though, we can learn something from this melodrama. So without further ado, here is the gospel according to Consumer Reports for what you can do to protect yourself if a big-ticket vacation provider such as a cruise line or tour operator suddenly goes bust:
*Book all travel purchases via credit card (good information in general, actually, as it’s ALWAYS easier to dispute a wrong charge or dropped travel plan if you purchased it on a credit card other than with debit or cash)
* Consider travel insurance for every travel purchase, especially for things like cruises. And go for the independent travel insurance companies, as opposed to the “third-party” offers that some cruise lines or tour operators offer. If that cruise line or tour operator goes bust, you coverage could go bust as well.
* Lastly, when booking something like a cruise, Consumer Reports suggests using a reliable, unbiased travel agent (you can find a good one through the American Society of Travel Agents).
Bis bald, friends! Only three more days until I’m Munich-bound!
The chatty neighbor next to me on a flight makes me cranky, too—but I won't take it out on the flight attendant
Well by now it’s practically old news. Poor flight attendant Steven Slater (yes, I say poor, and I’m sticking to it!) had just about had enough of the crankiness of certain passengers when he decided to depart the JetBlue flight into Kennedy International Airport on his own terms on Monday. The story goes that after Slater asked a passenger to remain seated until the appropriate time to get his baggage, the passenger ignored him and continued to pull down his luggage, which hit Slater on the head. When Slater asked for an apology, the passenger cursed at him. So, an irate Slater took matters into his own hands. He got on the plane’s public-address system and cursed the passenger out, all but gave his resignation, then activated the inflatable evacuation slide at a service exit and slid out of sight.
He even managed to grab a beer from the beverage cart before taking off to his home in Belle Harbor, Queens, where he was later arrested.
Unfortunately, as the NY Times article points out, this is just the latest in a string of violence and hostility between airlines and passengers. In fact, a new study by the International Air Transport Association that was quoted in the story found an increase in instances of disgruntled passengers and violence on planes, with the chief cause being passengers who refuse to obey safety orders.
So what’s the deal, people? I’m not saying every single flight attendant I’ve ever met has been all smiles and pleasantness (although, now that I really think of it, I can’t quite remember ever meeting a toxic flight attendant), or that sitting on a crowded plane with extra fees and no more peanuts is the best fun I’ve ever had either—but is that really the flight attendant’s fault? And why wouldn’t this man just stay. in. his. seat? If everyone else has to do it, why was he so special?
To add salt to the wound, a neighbor of Slater’s said that when he was not working, Slater was usually in California caring for his sick mother, as he had also done for his father when he was dying from Lou Gehrig’s disease.
Now listen, I know there are two sides to every story, but I gotta say—this one is looking a little lopsided.
My favorite is the last quote in the piece from Slater’s neighbor and a former flight attendant. “Enough is enough—good for him,” she said in the piece. “If he would have called me, I would have picked him up.”
Touche Ms. Bavasso, touche.
Bis bald friends! And please, behave on those flights!
A little Italian countryside on the train from Rome to Florence
Last Thursday, at around 11 p.m., Steph and I had made it to our final European destination—romantic, wonderful, beautiful Rome, and as tired (and sweaty and dirty) as we were, we were really excited to be there.
So remember that backpack that I mentioned back in Paris? The one that had all the travel documents in it? It also had detailed directions of which train to take from the airport into Rome, and walking directions from the Termini to our hotel, hotel Le Petit, which was only about an alleged 7 minute walk.
But the thing was, had our flight left on time, we were supposed to have arrived in Rome around 7:30 instead of 11 p.m., which would have made it a bit less sketchy for us to fumble our way around a foreign country, and find our way from the train station to our hotel (I can now tell you, having lived through this trip already, that it’s laughable how close our hotel was to the train station. Make a right, walk five minutes, make another right and you literally walk right into the train station. But at 11:30 p.m. on Thursday, after picking up our luggage, we had no way of knowing how easy it would be).
So as we entered the main part of the airport (no customs, no luggage check, no passport stamp. What’s up, Italy?!), I started to wonder if taking the train was really the best idea, still (despite my detailed notes….thanks to you, Chris!).
Turns out, I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it before we were approached.
“Need a ride?” a man with a thick Italian accent approach myself and my sister.
Okay, now let’s pretend like we’re back to last Thursday, which would make it our last morning in London, before catching an 8 am. train to Paris, before flying out of Paris later that afternoon to Rome……
Steph and I had seen a concert Wednesday night and didn’t make it into bed until around 1 a.m., so we weren’t exactly sure what it would be like getting up at 5 a.m. to catch the train. With jet lag. To a new city where neither of us spoke the language.
Turns out it wasn’t too terribly awful. Must have been the excitement. We knew we would only have a couple of hours in beautiful Paris (or so we thought), so we had decided to hop on the subway from the train station and take it immediately to the Eiffel Tower. After that, we’d cop a squat at the closest cafe we could find near there and pack in all the coffee and crepes that we could….
Lucky for me (and Steph), my thoughtful boyfriend had lovingly printed out the Paris subway map for me, highlighting which stops we would need to take to get to some key places—the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre and our airport, etc. And that fantastic little map stayed tucked in my backpack with a ton of other important documents—print outs of flight confirmations, hotel address, maps of other cities, etc.
Eeeeek—subway map madness
And then, as soon as we stepped off the train and into the train station and were enveloped in “crying” women (seriously, mobs of them), asking if we spoke English and shoving pieces of paper in our faces asking for money, the subway map was promptly forgotten.
There have been very few times in my life when I’ve actually been surprised by something. I live in New York City. I’ve seen a man with a top hat traveling down 42nd street on a pogo stick. I’ve seen a boy getting mugged. I’ve seen a person literally hanging out of a 12th floor window to clean it, with nothing even remotely holding said person in place besides shear strength. I’ve stumbled upon movie sets, routinely walked past cops with machine guns in Grand Central and, every day, depart my subway stop for work to the sounds of a lovely lady who, painstakingly, takes the time to alert me that “Jesus is coming.”
I’ve seen all of this, and yet, at this train station in Paris, within 4 minutes of stepping off the platform, I was surprised. These women were swift. They were relentless. And another person, perhaps a person who has not been through the craziness of living in a city such as New York, would have been in a worser position than my sister and I were.
Still, it threw me off a bit. Then I couldn’t find the subway map. And the map that I was looking at on the wall, yeah, that one seemed a bit different than the one I had studied (seriously, studied) that was somewhere hidden in the eternal blackness of my backpack. And this, my friends, is where my sister and I got into our first (and if I remember correctly, last) traveling tiff.
Standing at the map next to my sister, not understanding what I was looking at (and becoming ever more frustrated that I couldn’t understand what I was looking at), I glance over at the little one, who is not even looking at the map.
“You’re just standing there!” I’m exasperated.
Sister looks at me, in surprise. “What?”
“You aren’t even TRYING to help me at all!”
I unleashed all of my frustration at this stupid Paris train station right then and there on the little one, and she took it like a pro. “Cheryl, I don’t know how to read these things, and I think we should just ask someone,” she said calmly.
Fine, point taken. But I’ll be damned if I asked someone how to read a subway map! So after another five minutes of studying the wall, I finally figured out where we needed to go. Then, the ticket machines were broken.
So we stood in line for another half hour waiting to buy our ticket. But that was okay, because in that line I got a chance to calm down. Take in my surroundings. Realize it’s all going to be okay? (and that it wasn’t Stephanie’s fault).
On the subway, however, we had another trying moment. After waiting for another half hour for the subway to even arrive, Steph and I jammed our way (backpacks, purses, suitcases and all), on a subway that seriously is one of the most busy ones I have ever been on. Then a woman got on with a stroller, and at the next stop, the shouting began. People couldn’t get on (because of the stroller, of course), so shoving and French yelling ensued. Of course we didn’t know what was being said, exactly, since neither one of us speaks French, but we could get the gist. And it wasn’t fun.
After that, things were uphill. Well, besides the pouring rain and three-hour delayed flight to Rome, that is. Still, figuring out the subways after that were easy-as, and we made it to the Eiffel Tower. And we found our little cafe and we ate our crepes (mine Rum soaked, Steph’s with blueberries). And all was right with the world….
At around 2:30 we made our way back to the subway so that we could get to the airport to catch our what we thought would be 5:45 p.m. plane. It was not a 5:45 plane. A strike of airport workers backed up all the flights, and so Steph and I spent a few extra hours in the airport that would have gladly been spent in another part of Paris—but it was okay. In the end we got on the plane around 8:30, and landed in Rome around 11.
It was a really, really long day, but finally, after all of that, we were in ROME!
Bis bald, and the best to come, friends!
A stormy sky couldn't keep us from hamming it up in ParisRum soaked crepes taste exactly as you would expect them to
My sister and I finally set off into the sunset on our Euro-Adventure this Sunday—although I feel like we should have been there and back about a thousand times already, with all the planning.
From back in February, when we really started searching for flights and hotel reviews and travel plans, our itinerary has morphed into something that we’re pretty happy with—but planning certainly didn’t come without its stresses.
If you were wondering how you could combine your two favorite things—your new baby and your love of hiking/camping/boating— then Jennifer Aist’s ‘Babes in the Woods’ might just be the book for you.
Getting all of the essentials out of the way in the first chapter (clothing, food, sleeping, etc), Aist moves on to the really fun stuff in later chapters, like backpacking with babies and activities around camp. And I love the no-fail recipes section with classic camping goodies like oatmeal and dried fruit, trail mix and breakfast burritos (okay, so maybe breakfast burritos aren’t the first thing I think of when camping, but it still sounds delicious to me). And with helpful portion sizes and notes, as well as which type of trip the meal would be best served on, it’s hard to go wrong.
If camping with your newborn isn’t your thing, the fun facts sprinkled throughout the book are enough to keep me entertained. For example, did you know that DEET was originally developed by the Army during World War II? Or that once opossum babies are too big for their mom’s pouch, they climb onto her back, where she continues to carry them until they are too big?
Remember back in the day when terror alerts and colors charts were just things that government officials talked about, and not something we had to deal with on an every day basis—especially when traveling?
Yesterday I had to take a train from Penn Station to have lunch with my dad. As the hoards of people stood around impatiently waiting for their trains to be called, a policewoman started blocking off an area surrounding a deserted black bag. Of course in this era of ‘See Something Say Something,’ people are scared any time they see a bag without an owner.
