Give Thanks for Kimchi

Turkey didn't make the dinner line-up for me this past Thanksgiving. I celebrated the holiday in Korea, where cabbage rules November.

November is the traditional month to prepare kimchi, the cabbage and chili pepper-based condiment that accompanies every meal, even breakfast.

Kimchi ferments over months (or years). Traditionally, its ingredients go into clay pots that are buried in the ground. Today, many Koreans live in high-rise apartments, so pot-burying is out. Kimchi refrigerators are the solution.

My younger daughter, who lives in Ulsan, took me to Home Plus, a plus-sized store that could be the love child of Target and Walmart. There, we looked at kimchi refrigerators that dwarfed my fridge at home. In many Korean households, the kimchi fridge stands shoulder to shoulder with the regular model. That's a lot of kimchi.

High-rise dwellers can't grow their own cabbage, so they buy it in three-head sacks. I gaped at women pushing carts filled with sacks of cabbage. They, of course, have big kimchi refrigerators to fill.

On the outskirts of Ulsan, in addition to many family-owned garden plots, people have appropriated strips of roadside right-of-way to grow cabbage and other greens. The latter practice, though illegal, is tolerated, because who wants to deprive others of kimchi?

In the U.S., everyone makes dressing/pecan pie/cranberry sauce in his or her special way. In Ulsan, everyone adds personal tweaks to the basic kimchi recipe. While cabbage is the typical base, scallions, radishes, and cucumbers are used, too. The spice level ranges from mild to Help, I'm Burning Up!

Did I miss turkey and all the fixings this year? Yes, but I'd happily trade a gallon of my special cranberry/orange sauce for a half-liter of kimchi. Like travel, it gives life an edge.

What's your favorite condiment? I have a thing for salsa with a hint of chipotle.

PARISIEN FOR 10 DAYS

Our View

 Over Thanksgiving, my husband and I took a much needed escape to Paris. We've been many times before and done all the tourist sites and colorful neighborhoods. This was our chance to chill out in a wonderful apartment on the Rive Gauche and be Parisien  for ten days.

Our apartment was perfect--very French with a view of Notre Dame out the kitchen window and six restaurants within fifty yards of the apartment. We could walk wherever we wanted to go, eat out or cook in, sleep late or get up early, and enjoy our favorite neighborhoods and destinations with no pressure to see or do anything because we "should." It was a wonderfully relaxing, energizing break during which I made some observations, none very profound.

Romance-Free Bookstore

• There are no romance novels in Shakespeare & Company. There are thousands of English language books on almost every subject. Harlan Cobin, John Grisham and Lee Child made the cut. Nora didn't.                                                                                       
• Hot water heaters run at night. It's a good idea to get a shower before noon if you want hot water.

Steve in our living room

• It's generally a Bad Hair City. That doesn't mean my hair was impossible like it is in Houston in summer. Very few people in Paris put much effort into their coifs so the bar is pretty low. This is good news because:
• The electricity goes out frequently for short periods which requires the resetting of lots of critical systems including the hot water heater timer and the internet connection. These periods inevitable coincided with me getting in the shower.

Our Apartment Over Atelier Maitre Albert Restaurant

• The goofy, overzealous American tourists that embarrass us in restaurants and cafes are usually treated with kindness and good humor by the wait staff. Sure, this is because they generally tip very well in a country where tipping is seldom more that a euro or so. Still, the Americans are welcomed where other Europeans and Asians (both poor or non-tippers we were told) are merely tolerated.
• Trucks pick up glass bottles for recycling several times a week at about 6:30 a.m. Restaurants recycle A LOT of bottles. We were above one restaurant and across a narrow alley from three others. The crash of breaking glass is rather startling, especially that first morning. Other trash is picked up a couple times a week.  Luckily we live on a noisy street in Houston and were able to go right back to sleep.
• The neighborhood shopkeepers smile a lot and try to be helpful. Buying from the boucherie, poissonerie, chartucherie, bonlangerie, and wine merchant is much more fun than going to a grocery store. But beware the fromagerie...those women can be mean!

 

OFF THE BEATEN PATH -- ICELAND?

The Lonely Planet newsletter a few months back had an article on the Best in Travel Readers’ Choice Award  and the winner was Iceland. Iceland? There are many places I’d like to go but Iceland never crossed my mind. Ever. Not because if the Ice part of its name—I live in Houston so I fantasize about cold weather five months a year—but I’ve never met anyone who has even been there. So I read the article and found myself wondering if it might be a fun adventure destination for the following reasons given by LP readers:

• Volcanoes, aurora, glaciers, icebergs, incredible displays of nature!
• Back-country areas are still largely undiscovered
• Geothermally heated pools to refresh the soul
• Hip, cool Reykjavik
• Affordable compared to the rest of Europe

But the one that really got me was:

Puffins!!! Who wouldn’t want to see puffins?!!

So does anyone have any suggestions for an unconventional vacation destination? What about short-breaks and road-trips?  Where are you going this summer?

Hmmm. Zanzibar, Troy or Timbuktu this summer?

Shangri-La

 I recently read an interesting article on one of my favorite websites, lonelyplanet.com, called 10 Places of Myth and Legend. Although some of these walk the credibility line, I loved the concept of the piece. It begins like this: 

Even though we can get to the other side of the world in less than a day, there are still places that resist becoming everyday. Over the centuries they have accumulated tall stories like Manhattan accumulates tall buildings. So pack your compass, reading glasses and imagination for a journey to sites of myth and legend. Here are ten places that are caught in the imagination more tightly than on any map.

So what are these mythical places we can hop a plane, boat, Landrover or camel and visit? Here are some the article listed:

Zanzibar, a place right out of 1001 Arabian Nights that entered 1940’s pop-culture with the Crosby/Hope/Lamour movie, Road to Zanzibar 

Valley of the Kings, the ancient site along the Nile where the tombs of those famous pharaohs Ramses and Tut were carved into the hills. Also a popular shore tour with photo ops on all those modern Nile cruises 

Troy,  famous for Helen of, a huge wooden horse and more recently a man-candy movie starring a mostly unclothed Brad Pitt

Karakorum,Mongolia, the 13^th century capital of Genghis Khan’s empire. If you’re thinking of a quick summer vacation-- there’s no way to get there by air.

Carthage, home of Rome’s archenemy Hannibal and his army of elephants

Timbuktu, famous for being the end of the earth somewhere in the desert (Trivia note--the 1959 movie was filmed in Kanab, Utah, home of Best Friends Animal Sanctuary)  

Avalon,  of the King Arthur legend which also figures in the delightful and totally anachronistic  BBC’s series, MERLIN

Shambhala,Tibet, the real Shangri-la of James Hilton’s book,  Lost Horizon,  and the 1937 movie with Roland Coleman and Jane Wyatt

Are any of these destinations in your summer holidays plans? Are you vacationing someplace equally as interesting? If not, take heart and check out Lonely Planet’s list of 10 places that don’t exist (but should)  and plan your next voyage to Narnia or Middle Earth.

JEANS HAVE CONQUERED THE WORLD!!

I’ll confess, I have nine pair of jeans ranging from designer blue denims I found on sale (no way I’d pay $250 for them!) to black biker jeans that have seen better days. Jeans go everywhere in Texas, but according to a piece from the BBC, all the world wears jeans.

Jeans were banned as unsuitable school attire when I was in high school. When I look back, they weren’t even popular outside of school. Then I went to college. There jeans--Levis and Wranglers mostly--became a uniform of sorts for a certain cross-section of the collegiate population. “Designer jeans” was still an oxymoron, not the zillion dollar commodity of today, and the concept of broken-in, pre-distressed clothing conjured images of Goodwill or Salvation Army stores. 

As I’ve traveled over the past few decades, I’ve noticed a radical change in attitude toward jeans in Europe. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing them on the streets of Paris or London because the locals would have instantly pegged me as an American tourist. Now? I rarely pack anything else and fit right in regardless of the locale. Attire that once denoted a laborer or cowboy has seeped into every culture and every social strata, uniting us under a denim flag. The BBC piece backs up my observations: 

[Jeans] is a subject that is relatively unstudied, says anthropologist Danny Miller, whose book Blue Jeans will be published next month.

In every country he has visited - from the Philippines to Turkey, India and Brazil - Miller has stopped and counted the first 100 people to walk by, and in each he found that almost half the population wore jeans on any given day. Jeans are everywhere, he says, with the exception of rural tracts of China and South Asia.

Okay, maybe Bhutan and Burma still have a way to go, but the rest of the world seems to be onboard. Really, how cool is that? 

When I was 20, a prediction that my mother and father would one day wear jeans would have made me collapse in hysterical laughter or shudder in horror. And yet, the old folks don the denim these days along with the rest of us. That may not be progress—honestly, are jeans still jeans when they have elastic waistbands—but it is change. And let’s be grateful to the fashion gods that lycra stretch pants never caught on the way jeans did! 

Fess up. How do you feel about jeans—love ‘em, hate ‘em, haven’t worn a pair since 1995? 

MY GREAT WHITE NORTH RETREAT IN PICTURES

Ice-fishing is not likely to make Lonely Planet's list of adventures for adrenaline junkies. Don’t get me wrong, I had a terrific time but thrilling excitement? Let’s just say my experience involved patience and beer punctuated with moments of triumph, not a long battle to reel in The Big One. Nope, nothing big was hauled up through a fishing hole like this:

Still, hiking across a frozen, snow-covered lake to sit with good people hopefully watching a lure, yeah, it was fun. The tent (or hut) was heated, the beer was cold and every few minutes a joyful shout would signal another catch. It was a catch and release crowd, happy to get a picture before slipping the walleye or perch back into the icy water.

Everyone at the Grand View Lodge told us how warm the weather was—20’s and low 30’s during the day—and that the group last year experienced minus 20 degrees the entire three days. It was plenty cold enough for me, though. Hiking the paths around the resort, trekking out on the lake to fish and climbing to the old fashioned lodge for breakfast and dinner made for an active and exhilarating retreat.

Winter with its ice and snow was lived with gusto for three shimmering days before returning to balmy Houston. Yep, seventy-two hours of winter was long enough for me! Hmmm. Hope I get invited back next year.

THREE DAYS OF WINTER...WHY NOT?

Yesterday my husband drove me to the airport with the top down on my car. The weather in Houston was 65° and sunny. I boarded a flight for Minneapolis where the weather is 10° and partly cloudy. I did this voluntarily. Why? I was invited to go ice fishing. So here I am at dawn, about to get onto a bus for a two hour ride to a wilderness lodge on a frozen lake, pulse pounding with anticipation. Okay, scratch the pulse bit, I need more caffeine.

It’s not that ice fishing was ever on my Bucket List. So why leave the balmy temperatures for snow and cold? Because it’s something I’ve never done before and it sounded like fun.

Many years ago an older woman (she was probably not all that old, I was just very young) said to me, “I wish I’d had the chance to scuba dive and live on a tropical island when I was your age. But I had too many responsibilities and now it’s too late.” Then and there I made a promise to myself—when I was old I’d only regret what I’d done, not what I hadn’t done.

Over the years I’ve made a lot of mistakes through selfishness, lack of experience and just plain stupidity. Those I regret and hope I’ve learned from them. But whenever an opportunity to try something new or have an adventure has arisen, if time and finances have allowed, I’ve almost always said YES!!

Not all of these adventures turned out well—the snowmobile trip from hell, an arrest for piracy (I was innocent, of course!), and an infamous dive that ended with the bends come to mind—but once over, even the worst calamity evolved into a great story over time.

So ice fishing I go today. I’ve got my silk long underwear, cashmere socks, warm boots, scarf, coat  and gloves, and I’ve heard the cabin will be stocked with hot coffee and bourbon. Maybe not a death-defying extreme sport, but who knows what lurks under the frozen lake. Hmmmm, I feel a paranormal plot coming on. Let you know on Friday how it goes. 

NOSTALGIA FOR A TROPICAL CHRISTMAS

St. Croix Boat Parade

After many years in Houston, I still feel a bit nostalgic for the wonderful Christmases I spent in the Caribbean--seven in St. Croix, another more recent on a sailboat off a tiny sandy island somewhere near Petit Saint Vincent. We had white sand under our feet instead of snow, wore bathing suits and drank rum punch. The only fire roasted a pig on the beach and plantains replaced sweet potatoes. But what brings back those times more than anything else is the music. The radio played Charo’s MAMACITA DONDE ESTA SANTA CLAUS and The Mighty Sparrow’s CARIBBEAN CHRISTMAS MEDLEY, and, of course, The Great John L. sang CHRISTMAS IN ST. CROIX.  Cruzan Gold and tonic anyone?

RAMBLING: PARIS IN WINTER

I’ve been to Paris in every month of the year. June and July are prime tourist months--in August Parisians leave, things close and the least savvy tourists show up—but I avoid the City if Lights in summer, along with the crowds and heat (air-conditioning is still a novelty there). Spring and fall are lovely times to wander the streets and visit the famous, infamous and countless free sights. Still, there’s something about being there in the winter that makes me feel like a Parisian.

We always rent a flat in a residential section of the 6^th or 7^th arrondissement because the scale of the streets and buildings of this old part of the city are so much more intimate than the grand boulevards across the Seine. I love to shop in the food hall of Le Bon Marche to stock our kitchen and run out for a baguette or pain aux raisins each morning as the neighbors do. When tourists are scarce, everyone treats you like you belong there. The pace is slower and the shopkeepers friendlier.

As for the city’s famous tourist sites, without the hoards--busload after busload of foreigners descend on these places for morning to night in other months—one can wander alone through galleries in the Louvre, tour sections of Versailles the general public never sees, and walk the deserted Luxembourg Gardens in the magical winter sunshine.

Except for one cold snap many years ago, the winter temperatures are not usually harsh—more Washington D.C. than Boston. And the country-wide mid-January sales are an extravagant experience I’m glad I’ve done once. But sitting in front of a blazing fire sipping a warm cognac, being a part of French city life if only for a short time—that’s why I love Paris in the winter.

Do you have a favorite winter travel destination? What is it and why do you love it?

WALKING OFF RE-ENTRY

Jules, Sue and David at St. Paul de Vence

Re-entry. After two weeks in the south of France, I’m back in Houston, back at my job and recovered from the 20 hour trip home. While I was gone my husband re-arranged and/or switched out all the furniture in the house including my office. He’s a brilliant architect and interior designer so this isn’t quite a weird as it sounds. Still, there’s a surreal quality to returning to find a different house from the one I left.

And yet, I too change whenever I travel abroad. The people I meet, things I do, places I see alter my perspective in large and small ways. This time I came back wanting to walk places like I had in France. Luckily Houston’s weather has cooled from its 100+ degree summer highs and walking is actually pleasant. Yesterday I walked three blocks to the Uptown Park shopping area at lunch for the first time, braving the Loop 610 underpass and aggressive traffic. Today, I’m considering walking the five blocks to Target to buy a birthday card. In a city where nobody walks, I feel oddly free—thankfully, since my husband has to use my car while his is in the shop.

Perhaps this weekend, I’ll explore my neighborhood on foot for the first time since spring, walk to Rice Village for coffee or to shop. So many choices in this fine weather. Just like Monaco or Nice or our little French village of Plan de la Tour!

How have your travels—near or far--changed your perspective?

THANKS FOR EVERYTHING, STEVE JOBS!

For the last two weeks I’ve been in the south of France—at first alone and then with friends. I brought plenty of clothes, but my carry-ons were most filled with electronics—netbook, digital camera, converter, chargers and one essential device I never leave behind—my iPhone.

Luckily, the French love wifi and everywhere I stayed I was able to access the internet on my iPhone and netbook. Practically, however, the iPhone was my device of choice for everything except writing and posting here.  Every day I video conferenced with my husband in Houston iPhone-to-iPhone via SKYPE. We could see each other, I gave him tours of our digs, and our entire group could join in on the visit. And it was FREE!! Yep. No charge at all.

I checked and responded to email—personal and work, checked and uploaded photos to Facebook, listened to music on house sound system, watched video clips, checked the weather, planned travel routes, proved points in trivia discussions and checked flight status.

Yesterday at St. Paul de Vence I heard and older American man comment to his friend as I took a photo on my iphone that he was surprised at how many “young people” used them in place of a camera. At that moment I had my Nikon digital in my bag and admitted my iPhone had better resolution than my older camera. I didn’t add, I could also directly upload to Facebook on the iPhone and had to download the camera pics first.

Okay, so this isn’t much a of tribute to a man who made a huge difference in the lives of so many people. But I am continually awed and grateful for Steve Jobs and the vision that changed the way I live my day to day life is so many ways! Thanks, Mr. J. You were one of the great geniuses of our time!

THE AGONY OF PACKING

In two days I hop on a plane to Nice, France. I love traveling and have been to France countless times, yet there’s always the rush of excitement when I realize I’m really going. Soon. This time the anticipation is tinted with disappointment that my husband won’t be able to go. For business reasons he had to cancel and now I’ll be on my own for a few days before I join up with friends. Traveling alone is no problem, I’ve been doing it for years, still we’d looked forward to the time together.

Funny thing about traveling for fun—I never quite know what to pack. Business travel—no problem—but deciding which jeans, sweaters, tees, shoes, jacket to spend my limited suitcase space on...totally, absurdly stressful. To use a favorite Texas expression, “This ain’t my first rodeo.” So what’s so hard about picking out what I’m going to want to wear for two weeks? EVERYTHING!!

First there’s the weather. The average temperatures this time of year are 50’s nights and 60’s days. This year is much warmer—mid 70’s to even low 80’s. Tees, jeans and sandals? Sweaters, jeans and boots? Two very different wardrobes. We’ve rented a house so we’ll have a washing machine (which in France takes about 5 hours to do 1 load!), and yet putting on the same white shirt and blue jeans, even clean, the fifth time is hard to take. There have been times when I retired clothing items or left them behind because I couldn’t bear to ever look at them again.

Second, French women are tiny and French clothes are very expensive. My sister wears an American size 2 and a French medium or even large sometimes. Extra large? Doesn’t exist. If I don’t pack it, I probably won’t be able to buy it.

Third, what are we going to do and what clothes will be appropriate? A stroll through the chic streets of St. Tropez requires different clothes than a hike in the countryside. A nice restaurant or Monte Carlo casino requires a more polished ensemble than a village bistro. Decisions, decisions. And don’t get me started on shoes!! Comfy walkers? Stylish pumps? Sandals? Boots? How can a girl choose?

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll it figure out or at least fill up a suitcase with things I think I’ll need and let go of the angst by the time my bags are loaded in the car. Still, why does it seem that everyone else brings exactly the right things while I agonize and hope that this time I got it right?

 Got any tips you want to share? Love to hear them!

OFF THE BEATEN PATH: THE TALLEST SAND DUNE IN EUROPE

At the end of a ten day sojourn in the Bordeaux region of France, one of our traveling companions proposed a visit to the tallest sand dune in Europe. The Great Dune of Pyla (in French: la Dune du Pyla) is located in La Teste-de-Buch in the Arcachon Bay area, 60 km from the city of Bordeaux.

I’ll admit I wasn’t enthralled with the prospect of climbing a mountain of sand, but enjoyed the drive along the coast where we stopped at quaint seaside towns along the way. Arcachon Bay is on the Atlantic coast of France where the water level varies dramatically with the tide. At high tide, boats large and small sail or motor merrily in the bay. At low tide, they list in the sand like beached whales miles from the sea—a curious and strangely disturbing sight.

When we finally reached the Great Dune, this is what we found:  

   

We climbed the stairs to the top along with a steady stream of people ranging from small children to old women. Some visitors wore shorts, tee shirts and sneakers; other arrived in their Sunday best (probably because it was Sunday.) From the peak the bay spread out three hundred feet below—a spectacular view worth the climb. On the sandy plateau families picnicked, couples napped, groups of teenagers played ball or Frisbee as though it was a beach.

The day was sunny and warm, but we didn’t stay long.  The slide back down the dune, a swift and exciting falling through fine white sand, beckoned and didn’t disappoint. All in all, the Great Dune was well worth the excursion—a memorable experience off the beaten path.

OFF THE BEATEN PATH: KANAB, UTAH

A few years ago I discovered Kanab when I went to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary to volunteer for a few days. I’d wanted to go to the Sanctuary for years and working with the animals—dogs in particular—was everything I’d hoped. The real surprise of the trip was the town of Kanab, a place that hasn’t changed much since the fifties.

In the heyday of Westerns, this place was the filming location for Daniel Boone, Gunsmoke, El Dorado, The Outlaw Josey Wales, The Lone Ranger, and Stagecoach. When the good guys said, “Head ‘em off at the pass!” that pass is a rough-cut road in a hillside at Best Friends. The wild, stark canyons and red hills, the rock formations and stunning sunsets haven’t changed a bit since the days John Wayne and Olivia de Havilland inhabited the guest cottages at Parry’s Lodge in the heart of town.

Parry’s is still there as it always has been, the cottages ,too. You can walk across the street to the café for a breakfast of biscuits and gravy or finish off dinner with a piece of homemade banana cream pie. Or a few steps away find anything western at Denny’s Wigwam.  You might not have cell service and I wouldn’t count on wifi, but it you’re thinking it might be nice to drop out of the 21^st century for a few days in the 1950’s, it would be tough to find a nicer western town to do just that.

OFF THE BEATEN PATH – MARFA, TEXAS

Inspired by Colleen Thompson’s wonderful romantic suspense, TRIPLE EXPOSURE, I took a nine hour  road trip across Texas to Marfa. This is where much of GIANT with James Dean, Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson was filmed—the parts in the Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas. But my goal was to complete a major revision in a week, so the lack of distractions (including cell service, wifi and my husband) made the little house in the quiet town a perfect retreat.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a bit of fun. Again inspired by TRIPLE EXPOSURE, I viewed the stark West Texas countryside from a glider and spent an evening looking for the Marfa Lights (unsuccessfully).

And at noon I lined up in the pavilion in the center of town, waiting my turn at the Food Shark.

Makes me want to get on I-10 and head west. On second thought, I think I'll wait until fall.

HOW TO TRAVEL WITH FRIENDS (AND NOT WANT TO KILL THEM)

It’s summer, the time when everyone thinks about going on vacation. This month Lonely Planet published an article on “How to Travel with Friends (and not want to kill them).” I highly recommend it to anyone contemplating a vacation with a new squeeze, an old friend or anyone you haven’t traveled with before.



I frequently organize house parties with friends in foreign countries--usually with excellent results. I’ve also done my share of road trips in the US and abroad. Traveling with people I didn’t know well, and even some I knew very well, has had mixed results. Food issues, travel budget, and driving responsibilities rank at the top of reasons trips go bad. I must admit, however, I was almost driven to justifiable (in my mind, at least) homicide by non-stop stream-of-consciousness chatter on a 10-day road trip in Europe. I'd had reservations about this friend-of-a-friend when I was asked if she could come.  A lesson painfully learned.

Lonely Planet is geared toward young, adventurous travelers on a tight budget—not quite my demographic (although budget is a consideration) so my suggestions are a bit more specific and geared to 3 or more travelers. Take them with a grain of salt, tequila optional.

1.       Limit the amount of luggage any one person can bring to what they can carry up two flights of stairs in one trip. If you’re renting a car, it will fit even with three or four passengers. (In my experience, men rarely overpack so they're not likely to be a problem.)

2.       If one person will be driving the entire trip, she/he gets a day off now and then to hang out and rest.

3.       If you’re having a house party, expect to buy a lot of wine and learn how to recycle the bottles. This is especially important in Europe where recycling is mandatory almost everywhere.

4.       Be sure everyone is flexible and considerate of others’ interests. Unless the trip has a specific agenda, it’s unlikely everyone will want to spend every single day shopping, hiking, visiting museums, or eating in the most celebrated restaurants. A variety of activities makes a happier group.

5.       If anyone has any health or fitness issues which will affect the itinerary or activities, let the group know before inviting them. Planning a trip around one person’s limitations isn’t fair to the others unless everyone agrees up front.

6.       Don’t assume that because you’ve known someone for years, they’ll be a good travel companion. Assess their personality and quirks objectively. If your friend is unreliable or  doesn’t play well with others at home, she’ll be a nightmare at a house party in France! Trust me on this one.

Any tips to add to my mine? Stories to share? Come on, dish some dirt.

OFF THE BEATEN PATH: LONGWOOD GARDENS, KENNETT SQUARE, PENNSYLVANIA

This weekend I’m going to be visiting my family and one stop I hope to make is Longwood Gardens. During the summer after I graduated from high school this was a favorite evening destination for my friends and me. The gardens and the light and fountain show appealed to our hippie sensibilities. It also didn’t hurt that back then admission was free. (Now it costs $18 for adult admission and $8 for students up to 18.)

Like most young people, we were more interested in each other than the vast gardens, woods and park grounds, but we also spent a surprising amount of time learning about the plants, trees and landscape layout. What I learned then, has given me a lifelong appreciation of formal and not so formal gardens that has drawn me to places like Versailles, Hautfort, Sardy, Castle Howard in my travels.  

Many years later I can still find those special places at Longwood that filled me with youthful awe. And to my delight, they only seem to get better!

If you’re ever in the area west of Philadelphia and just north of Wilmington, make it a point to see these world famous gardens. While you’re there, stop by the Brandywine River Museum in nearby Chadds Ford which has a wonderful collection of paintings by three generations of Wyeths—NC, Andrew and Jamie.

So what were your favorite places to visit growing up? Have you been back lately?

OFF THE BEATEN PATH - GONE HAWKING, IRELAND

Follow the signs through the vast, lush grounds of Ashford Castle to Ireland's School of Falconry.  Within minutes of arriving, you will have a hawk on your glove and be setting off to fly your hawk in the gardens and woodlands surrounding the castle. The thrill of releasing the bird and watching it soar is unforgettable. The moment when your hawk first swoops down from a tree and lands on your gloved fist is nothing less than mystical.

OFF THE BEATEN PATH – CAT SPRINGS, TEXAS

My husband and I like to take a trip for our birthdays. His is in June which is a nice month to be gone from Houston’s heat and humidity. Last June, however, we had just bought a house and moved while still trying to sell our old house, so twelve days in the French countryside wasn’t on the agenda.

Instead, I took him to Cat Springs, Texas, about an hour outside of Houston. Unlike this June, last year’s temperatures were much cooler—hovering between 70 and 80 in the morning and staying under 90 in the afternoon. I booked a cottage on a ranch and a morning horseback ride, and figured the rest would take care of itself. The cottage turned out to be what I call Texas country tourist—lots of cutesy decoration, a Texas flag theme with cow accents—but with a certain charm. Although it had been a long time since either of us had ridden, the horses were cooperative and the ranch was beautiful with its meadows full of wild flowers and cool, lush woods. It was  a world far removed from the city and the stress of daily life.

In jeans and boots—this is Texas— we set out to explore the environs. Driving around the countryside we discovered a general store with items we hadn’t seen in decades, a trading post where I bought a pair of handmade slippers, and some of the best barbeque we’ve ever eaten. In Fayetteville town square (aka Texas Pickin' Park ) impromptu groups of musicians with guitars, banjoes, fiddles and harmonicas   were jamming everything from gospel to classic country to an occasional pop-country hit. Everyone was welcome to sit in, ages 10 to 90, expert to not so good. As we sat and listened, I felt like we’d stumbled through a time-warp to an era before TV and video games when families gathered with their neighbors in small towns all over the country.

I love living in the city and taking trips to France, England and other foreign destinations, but once in a while it’s nice to appreciate the simple pleasures close to home—an early morning ride through a meadow, music just for the fun of it, and some seriously killer brisket washed down with a cold Corona.