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Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

Dating – Is it Better to have a Bird in the Hand?

Posted in Adventures, Breaking Up, Cafegirl Books, Lifestyles, Paris, Relationships, romance, Sex & Love, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , on November 16, 2011| 8 Comments »

I’ve been thinking a lot about old sayings –you know – the ones we use to help us make decisions.

For example, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

I used to think that made sense until experience proved me wrong. It’s always better to keep both hands open.

Not too long ago I had a lovely golden bird in the hand. I was so happy and pleased that this golden bird chose to alight in my garden and stay awhile that I became oblivious to all of the other beautiful birds visiting my garden that summer.

One day the golden bird and I had plans to rendezvous at a little love nest in the south of France. I decided to take a day for myself in Paris prior to joining him in Nice. I stayed in the very posh neighborhood, at the lovely L’ Hôtel de Banville in the 17ieme. It was a beautiful summer’s day and I decided to take le Métro to the Les Tuileries and walk in the gardens.

The closest Métro stop was Porte de Champerret  in a well-to-do treed residential area  with small shops and restaurants. Thinking and smiling to myself about my upcoming tryst, I happened to glance up and catch the eye of a very attractive Frenchman.

He wasn’t too tall – I’d say about 5’10 – and dressed: very French in his summer slacks, form-fitting white Lacoste shirt, and a cardinal red sweater tossed carelessly over his shoulders, the sleeves looped in front of his chest. His eyes were the color of cornflowers.

He rested comfortably against the hood of a high-end performance sports car, his Gucci-clad feet crossed at his tanned ankles. He was talking on his cell phone.

He returned a smile that wasn’t intended for him. That caught me by surprise, and I smiled back. I guess you could say we had a “moment”. But what to do about it? I was not going to start a conversation with a total stranger, especially since I already had a man waiting for me. I didn’t need another devastatingly handsome, and charming (all Frenchmen are charming) European man.

And so I walked straight into le Métro and headed for the platform. Somehow I knew he would follow me. Sure enough, when I got to the platform and turned around, I saw him walking toward me, like he had every intention taking the Métro that morning. I walked farther down the platform curious to see if he’d get in the same car. I momentarily lost sight of him when the train pulled up. I walked into the car carrying my guidebook and, there he was, he came in right after me. He sat across from me and made eye contact, looking for some sign of encouragement from me. I smiled but I was determined to play it cool. If he was that interested, and he looked like he was, it was up to him to approach me. I was done doing the modern girl thing. Plus I was in France; I was determined to play the coquette – short of batting my lashes.

We continued to exchange meaningful glances all the way through the next stop but nothing happened. We rolled into a third stop and exchanged fleeting eye contact. I knew I should proffer something more than passing glances, but the golden bird was waiting for me so I was more than willing to let this one get away. Unless of course he came up with an introduction, a beau geste, that would make my heart skip a beat.

The fourth stop came and he rose to leave. Dejected, he glanced back over his shoulder as the doors closed and I shrugged as if to say, “It was your move, why didn’t you make it?” With a hint of unexplainable sadness, I waved goodbye.

A day later I was in Nice basking in the Mediterranean sunshine with the golden bird, and a month after that he flew the coop without so much as an email or tweet goodbye.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had only been a bit more receptive to the mysterious French stranger. If I had given up the bird in the hand, or what I thought was a sure thing, for the potential of two in the bush. Had I made a cardinal mistake? I guess I’ll never know. He will forever remain the one that got away.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Johnny Greig

 

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Lucky At Cards

Posted in Adventures, Lifestyles, romance, Sex & Love, Travel, tagged , , , , on February 9, 2010| Leave a Comment »

There’s an old proverb that says, “Lucky at cards, unlucky at love.”  The Italians turn it around and say, “Sfortuna al gioco, fortuna in amore”.  Translation:  Unlucky at cards, lucky at love.  And they would know.

And then there’s me unlucky at cards and unlucky in love.  So what’s a Café Girl to do when she’s in Las Vegas?  Certainly not gamble. That would so be a waste of money. And certainly not flirt with that handsome stranger in the tuxedo at the baccarat table in the High Stakes Lounge. That would be a waste of time, especially since his name is Giancarlo. Tall, dark and dangerously handsome – you can just tell that he holds all the cards.

No, I kept my hands in my pockets and my heart in check as I walked back to my hotel.  No one was getting lucky tonight.  Then, as I was passing by the Trevi Fountain near the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace, I noticed a penny on the ground.  Oh what the heck! It was a small gamble and the only money Vegas would get off of this Café Girl. I gave it a toss … and made a wish.

Unlucky at cards? Usually. Unlucky at love? Most definitely!

But when it comes to adventure – all I can say is be careful what you wish for.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Juergen Sack

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Hitting the road

Posted in Adventures, Amsterdam, Lifestyles, tagged , , , , on February 6, 2010| 3 Comments »

Travel is in the cards for me this year

The year got off to slow start but I will be making up for it in spades this spring – starting with a trip to Las Vegas.  Look for posts from Amsterdam to  Zealand and points in between – coming soon.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/tonyoquias

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The UnValentine’s Day

Posted in Breaking Up, Cafegirl Books, Montreal, romance, tagged , , , , , , , on February 4, 2010| 7 Comments »

The future’s so bright…

February 13th, 2009 I packed my bag, purchased an airplane ticket and walked out on my Italian lover. In spite of the temptation to do so, I never looked back.

I arrived in Montreal on Valentine’s Day. How appropriate I thought, to come home to a city that I love, and on Valentine’s Day. It was my gift to myself. Rather than see irony in the situation – as a cynic might, I only saw how right and fitting it was. That’s the optimist in me.

More importantly, I fell into the arms of girlfriends who, with very little notice, came to my rescue. We were Sex and the City “North” I was Carrie Bradshaw – returning from a disastrous Paris experience minus Mr. Big. There was, however, one small glitch.

I had planned to stay in Europe for while and travel, so when I returned not only was I heartbroken, I was essentially homeless. Luckily for me, that was no impediment to my resourceful friends.

Zara was waiting at the airport, car warmed and ready to “come pick” me as she likes to say in her charming Syrian accent.

Nadia made a few quick phone calls and found a furnished place for me at a very reasonable rate. And it wasn’t just any apartment: it was in the heart of the city with a view that took my breath away and my mind off of my troubles. Inside were a lovely orchid plant – and a bowl of bright red apples to comfort me. Nadia had even made sure the internet and the satellite TV were activated.

Annie wasn’t far behind with a bag full of groceries and some toiletries. It was like I had never left. Perhaps, I thought, I had dreamed the whole thing, awakened from a nightmare and found myself in safe and familiar surroundings. Whew! That was a close one.

We celebrated Valentine’s Day– just us girls – a few days later at a cozy little restaurant on McGill. Tucked away in the corner, we ordered tapas and ‘tinis and we toasted ourselves and celebrated our first Un-Valentine’s Day.

We had such a good time that it’s a tradition we plan to continue. This year we plan to spend our UnValentine’s Day on February 27th by creating a pot luck dinner complete with candles, champagne and of course chocolate. No need to worry about reservations.

Break-ups are never easy, and the ones that occur on Valentine’s Day have to be the worst. However, that experience became the inspiration for a book – the premise for which you can read on this blog.

It’s also the basis for this blog which has come to be one of the most satisfying aspects of my life because it touches so many people.

Last year I felt I was in the middle of a long dark tunnel with only a match for illumination. I didn’t know it at the time that one year later I would come out the other side happier, with a new purpose – needing to wear sun glasses.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Primeop76

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Timing is everything

Posted in Adventures, Dance, Lifestyles, Tango, Tokyo, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on January 3, 2010| 5 Comments »

My trip to Tokyo was ill-timed for attending a milonga but not for taking a tango class.  This time, instead of a private lesson, I took a group class at the Tropicana bar/club located in the Roppongi Hills area in the Minato district of Tokyo.  It’s a high-rise, über-urban community that allows residents and visitors alike to shop, work, live and play all in one compact area. It is also where East meets West. According to my Japanese friends, the district is populated with the highest concentration of “foreigners” in Tokyo.

Walking along its crowded streets I wonder if I’m in Minato or Midtown Manhattan.  English is definitely the lingua franca here but it’s peppered with accents as colorful as the neon signs that bathe the streets in an eerie kind of sci-fi glow.  Roppongi Hills pulses to a world beat all its own so it’s the perfect place for bars and clubs.

It’s also the world beat of tango that brings me here. Tango, like Roppongi, is a small world. Connecting is easy when you have something like dance or foreignness in common.  Often times it’s six degrees of separation — sometimes, as in the tango world, it’s even less. In my case it was three degrees.

I made the first connection through Arlene Toth’s London Tango blog” http://londontango.wordpress.com/ and an introduction to Alberto Paz in New Orleans.   Alberto, http://www.planet-tango.com/, put me in touch with Yaeko, one of his former students here in Tokyo.  And Yaeko was kind enough to organize a group lesson for me in Tokyo.

We never did make that lesson – we both got lost in transportation, each of us waiting for the other at different exits of the metro one night.  I was so disappointed because I had really wanted the experience of a Japanese group lesson – just like in the movie Shall We Dance.  Dejected, I returned to my hotel.

What turned out to be bad timing for a dance lesson turned out to be good timing for friendship.  Undeterred by the mix-up, Yaeko called and invited me to dinner instead. We may have been too late to dance but we weren’t too late to eat.  That night we talked tango for three hours.  When I asked Yaeko why she danced tango, she gave me an answer that only milongeuros and milongeuras would fully understand.  “I didn’t choose tango,” she said.  “Tango chose me.”

Afraid that her passion would become all-consuming, she took some time off to study the violin.  I can understand that. Some times I question my own sanity when I find myself dancing salsa four or five nights a week.  Once or twice my friends who don’t dance have mentioned the word “intervention” in connection to my passion.

And so I too stop for a while and fill my evenings with more practical pursuits like yoga, or Pilates or cooking lessons. That is until I realize they are a poor substitute for the one thing that truly makes me happy – dance.

Over dinner Yaeko suggested an opportunity for another lesson with Luis Castro and Claudia Mendoza, who are guest instructors at the Club Tropicana.  The next night, we made sure to pick an easy meeting point and we connected with time to spare.  I joined Yaeko and her friends in a small group lesson, which turned out to be more like a master class.

Milonga was the dance we practiced that night, and the intricacy of the footwork discouraged me. I realized I had a long way to go.  I also realized that to reach this level I would have to put in some time and get serious instead of playing at it one lesson at a time.    Up till then I was learning tango with some waltz thrown in. Milonga was fast, fun and frustrating, and I would have been totally discouraged if it hadn’t been for Luis, Claudia and my fellow students encouraging me. Even the more advanced students had to work at some of the steps. We were in it together.  By the end of the evening I had managed to pick up a step or two and I felt more comfortable.

Afterward we celebrated our progress at a nearby restaurant. As an outsider I was amazed at how at ease I felt among this group of strangers. It was only for a couple of hours, but it felt like we’d been meeting there for years.

I suspect that this is due in part to how the tango world functions.  Dance is like owning a passport that grants you access to an amazing country.  And participating in tango is like visiting family. I had really thought that I missed my chance when I missed the first lesson but in truth, I couldn’t have planned things better.  The lesson at the Tropicana was a last minute suggestion. And so I’ve added a fifth lesson to my dance is life list.

Lesson #5: Dance is like life. Some things you just can’t plan…sometimes you just have to improvise. https://cafegirlchronicles.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/dance-is-life/

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www.castroymendoza.com

http://jantango.wordpress.com/about/

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Oktay Ortakcioglu

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Lucky Me!

Posted in Adventures, Lifestyles, Tokyo, Travel, tagged , , , , , on December 22, 2009| 1 Comment »

Shinto ShrineNot only do the two major religions — Buddhism and Shinto — coexist peacefully in Japan but they also overlap in a practical sort of way that is uniquely Japanese. While the other world religions are literally and metaphorically battling it out for supremacy, “My god is bigger than your god,”  the Japanese make no such distinctions.  God and deities exist only to help people overcome hardships here on earth, or ease their way into heaven.

Often these religions share the same space. So it’s not unusual to find a Shinto Shrine within the courtyard of a Buddhist temple. And since I began my visit in a temple, the difference between the two religions was explained it to me in typical Zen fashion – very simply.  The two religions divide themselves neatly along two lines: Life and Death.

Shinto, an animist religion, deals with life: the celebration of the New Year, marriage, special prayers for children at the ages of three, five and seven, a coming-of-age ceremony at twenty, special prayers for family issues, and prayers for success in business or studies. Deities are found mostly in nature, and sometimes as past emperors or empresses. Buddhism assists the dead as they move into the next life and comforts the living.

The standard practice when visiting a temple or shrine is to purify one’s self prior to petitioning the Buddha or the deities residing there.  Ritual purification occurs in two ways depending on where you are. When visiting shrines, usually the act of passing under three torrii (gates) and walking along the gravel path to the haiden (hall of worship) is enough to purify one’s self before arriving at the honden (main hall) where the kami (gods) reside.

There is also purification through water (chözuya) at both temples and shrines.  The traditional way is to take a ladle and fill it with water from a tap.  Pour the water over the left hand, and then transfer the ladle to pour the water over the right hand.  Next, pour water into a cupped hand, purify your mouth and spit it out. The last step is to let water run down the ladle handle to purify it.  In all cases, make sure the water is spilled on the ground next to, and not back into the basin, so as not to contaminate it.

The act of praying is just as simple.  In the temple, you toss a coin into a box in front of the altar, put your hands together, offer your prayer and then back away. Prayers in a shrine are offered in a similar fashion.  You toss a coin in the box, clap twice to let the deity know you’re there, put your hands together, offer a prayer and then bow once.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Jimbo_Cymru

Temples and shrines sell omikuji, fortunes written on slips of paper.  Fortunes are dispensed in a random fashion via a special box containing numbered sticks.  Since I was there, I thought I would try my luck and so I shook the box and not one but two sticks popped out.  Great, now I’d have to choose.  Was I choosing the right one?

I closed my eyes drew one stick and gave it to the attendant.  She gave me a slip of paper with my fortune on it. So far so good, I thought.  There are four kinds of fortunes dai-kichi (big luck), kichi (luck) sho-kichi (small luck) and kyo (bad luck). In essence, the best is kichi. It means that things are not only good but they are going to get better.

Sho-kichi, the fortune I pulled, made the young attendant wince. “Oh, mmm,” was all she said.  Such a grave expression on such a young face made me nervous.   And then seeing my anxious expression, she gave me a small smile.  “It’s okay,” she explained. “Bad luck now but good luck later.”   She explained that things were bound to get better soon if I acted in a disciplined manner and was conscious of my actions.  “Better soon,” she said. .

Hmmm.  This fortune could only refer to my love life of course and it corroborated what Shelly the Seer saw in New Orleans when I pulled the Nine of Cups.  There was something big in the offing; I just had to be patient and pay attention.  https://cafegirlchronicles.wordpress.com/2009/11/27/date-with-destiny/

The little attendant instructed me to fold the paper and tie it to a nearby tree thereby letting the wind disperse the bad luck.  My little paper slip joined hundreds of others who would share similar fates or worse: kyo (bad luck).  Good fortunes are meant to be tucked into a wallet for safekeeping.  I wasn’t sure how I felt about this latest stroke of fortune – and then I thought about Shelly.  “You play the hand you’re dealt” or, in this case, the stick you draw.  So be it, I thought….fonce as my French friends would say. (Push ahead!)

As I was contemplating the little tree, I didn’t feel the small hand tapping my shoulder until it became much more insistent. I was surprised to find the little attendant standing behind me smiling.  She pointed in the direction of a small pavilion – there was a wedding – “For you.  Very lucky.”  I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Its significance was not lost on me: perhaps this was a new beginning for me too.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/anzeletti

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Lost in Transportation…

Posted in Adventures, Tokyo, Travel, tagged , , , , , on December 18, 2009| Leave a Comment »

The Japanese transit system is quite an experience. The trip to and from any destination can be quite short – even a long distance trip seems to pass quickly – because of the efficiency of the trains and metro systems themselves.  It’s point A to point B travel at its best.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Dansin

The only challenging and time consuming part of any trip is exiting a station through the right door.  In some of the larger stations, a labyrinth of passageways on a number of levels makes it necessary to stop and ask for directions every several meters or so. One ascends or descends to the various levels depending on where you want to go. It’s rather Dante-esque with several levels of shops to tempt you – a shopper’s paradise if you’re up for it and hell if you’re tired or in a hurry.

Moving crowds in the Tokyo transit system are like a human undertow and if you’re not careful you can end up someplace else other than your intended destination. This trip, I was with my friend Masako, so I let her do all of the navigating while I did all of the looking. More than once I felt a polite tug on my elbow as she changed directions trying to find the closest exit to my hotel.  She stopped often and glanced anxiously in my direction, worried that I’d get swept away in a crowd never to be seen or heard from again. She was my own personal life preserver, keeping me afloat in a roiling sea of people.

After a long day of sightseeing we had promised ourselves a couple of beers back at my hotel, and happy hour was upon us. I could see that Masako had a one track mind – the hotel bar or bust. The only sight she wanted to see was the bottom of a frosted mug and a bottle of Kirin.  And I was right there with her. We were both parched and a little hungry.

Despite her best efforts, we had missed the exit and decided to go above ground to get our bearings. We used the neon-lit buildings to vector our way back to my hotel.  Her vector points were Nakau, Uniqlo, and Takashimaya, while mine were McDonalds, KFC and a Pepsi logo atop one of the many business towers in the area. They may have been different names but the end result was the same.

We made it back to the hotel before it started to rain.  It was the perfect end to a perfect day spent in one of the most amazing cities in the world. That I was able to spend it in the company of a friend was a bonus. Masako and I ended on a high note back in the bar – that note of course being Kampai!  or Cheers!   Different words but…

 

Kampai!

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/skodonnell

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Travel Essentials

Posted in Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 15, 2009| 4 Comments »

Over the years I have developed my own system for traveling in comfort, whether I’m traveling executive class or economy.  I’ve learned that having a few key essentials with me on a flight is the difference between a pleasant trip and a painful one.  Luckily, laptops have become smaller, and I now use a mini. So there’s more room in my computer bag to pack a few extra items to help ease me on my way.

The first thing that I pack is my Isotoner ballet slippers. They fit into the outside pocket of my bag within easy reach under the seat in front of me. They pack flat, weigh a few ounces, and feel great on my feet during the flight.  They’re also a lot more sanitary than walking around in stocking feet especially in the toilet.

The next item is my ReLeafe™ neck brace, a gift from my well-traveled boss, which holds my neck in perfect alignment, whether I am sitting or reclined in my seat.  Those inflatable donuts never work for me: they always seem to compress the sensitive vertebrae in my neck as they forced my head backward in an unnatural incline.  You can wear your ReLeafe underneath the roll of a turtleneck sweater to avoid being mistaken for a whiplash victim.

For winter travel, a cashmere turtleneck is my garment of choice. (In summer, it’s silk.)  The natural fibers adapt to my body temperature and the temperature around me.  I have quite a collection thanks to my mom, Little Lou, who regularly frequents her favorite “boutique” (Goodwill) and keeps me well supplied. She is particularly proud of her Senior Day bargains which she gets for the unbelievably low price of $2.50.  The sales staff at the “boutique” has taken to calling her the Queen of Cashmere.

I’m not a big fan of airplane blankets or pillows, even if they are wrapped in plastic, so I opt for either a pashmina or cashmere shawl.  The pashmina is less bulky and rolls easier than my triangular cashmere wrap.  But the cashmere is warmer.

Underneath it all, I always travel with a panty liner and I remove it at the end of a long flight.  It’s not exactly a change of underwear but it’s a quick way to feel fresh until you can.

As I only want to open one bag during the security check, I always place my plastic bag of toiletries in my laptop bag rather than my purse. Then I remove both items at the same time rather than rooting around first in my purse, and then my laptop bag.

My list of onboard toiletries include;

  •  Toothbrush and toothpaste – and bottled water bought just before boarding.
  • Hand sanitizer and a hand moisturizer.
  • Eye drops and Glycerin moisturizer for my nose.  The dry air on the plane is tough on these sensitive areas, and a well-moisturized nose helps to fight off and protect against cold germs circulating on a plane.
  • Cotton swabs – essential for cleaning out the corners of my eyes. Do not touch your eyes! I also use them to apply the glycerin when I’m in the toilet.
  • Drugs:  aspirin for headaches, antihistamines because they make me drowsy enough to sleep on a short flight, sleeping pills for a longer flight, my birth control pills (usually just enough to keep me on my cycle), and antacids.
  • A small can of Evian water to spritz myself awake in the morning.
  • Mascara (reapplied) and lip gloss. Cotton swabs again to clean up any mascara residue that has fallen “in between the cracks.”
  • One protein bar

And with that I’m ready to hit the ground running.

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Diane Diederich

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Making the Grade

Posted in Adventures, Tokyo, Travel, tagged , , , on December 12, 2009| 2 Comments »

Good heavens, an upgrade!

After a year of steady business travel in economy class and logging tens of thousands of miles, I did it! I am flying to Tokyo in business class an occurrence so rare that it ranks right up there with a World Series win by the Cleveland Indians or the appearance of Haley’s Comet.

Upgrade certificates along with the cheery self-congratulatory notes that always accompany them spill out of a file folder on my desk.  “Dear Valued Frequent Flyer” the letter always reads. The Vice-President of customer loyalty is pleased to provide you with two (worthless) upgrade certificates to be used on your next flight.  Ha!

They’re worthless because any affordable airline ticket that I reserve also falls within a “class of fare” that falls outside of the usual upgrade certificate classification.  In other words, if I can only afford to fly class X, Y or Z, you can bet that all of the upgrades are only good for A, B, or C  class — a much more expensive fare.  So I usually find myself in the class called S.O.L. What’s the point I wonder?  Instead of feeling valued I feel insulted.

When I booked the trip to Tokyo I was astounded to learn that the fare was actually eligible for an upgrade.  And not just any upgrade, but one of those super duper, intergalactic, cosmically star-dusted upgrades of which the airline had parsimoniously given me two.  I had been saving them up in the hope I wouldn’t have to use them on a short haul flight to somewhere close like London. But Tokyo, a13 1/3 hours flight was just the ticket!

And so I am writing this post from a pod, which will shortly convert into a bed, in the business class section of a new 777 jet.  The pod’s futuristic design, in a shape that defies description, is lit by ghostly blue running lights and a pictogram LCD panel. It’s my own personal command and control center.

Pink (yes pink) overhead lighting gives the cabin a surreal atmosphere – a sort of cosmic café, if you will.  I feel like I’m hitchhiking across the Galaxy instead of crossing the Pacific.  A male voice comes across the intercom with an announcement. I half expect the pilot to announce that we are now shifting into hyperspace.  Instead, it’s just the purser announcing lunch. Hyperspace, I muse – now that would be an upgrade!

Photo: © iStockphoto.com/Oktay Ortakcioglu

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Shall We Dance, Tokyo?

Posted in Adventures, Cafegirl Books, Dance, Lifestyles, Tango, Tokyo, Travel, tagged , , , , , on December 7, 2009| 2 Comments »

Thanks to all of you tangueros and tangueras who were kind enough to provide contacts to instructors and milongas in Tokyo.  If any of my other fellow dancers have suggestions on milongas or salsa clubs – I’ll happily take them as I don’t leave until Thursday.

In the meantime, I am going to treat myself to an all-Tokyo film fest this weekend, which will include:

Lost in Translation – As I will soon be Lost in Tokyo.

Blade Runner (The Director’s cut) – I’m told Ridley Scott’s futuristic film noir evokes the sights and sounds of present day Tokyo and the Shinjuku area where I will be staying.

Shall We Dance?  The original Japanese version of this film really hits home for many of us.  If it says anything about human nature, it’s that it’s never too late to rediscover who you are – especially if you happen to find yourself in Tokyo.

Enjoy!

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