San Antonio, Texas - A Photo Diary (and a few words too)

Hazy and hopeful with a pinch of spice, San Antonio, Texas is a great weekend destination. With a thriving arts scene and a strong historical tradition, there are a number of things to see and enjoy (many for free). Whether you're all about great food, Mexican culture, the rodeo, romantic walks along moonlit canals, or super-sized malls, San Antonio has got it all. The San Antonio Riverwalk. The water is brown because it is actually (in this part) an actual nature made river with a mud bottom.

The San Antonio Riverwalk is one of the city's proud main attractions. A portion of the Riverwalk surrounds an actual river with a mud bottom, hence, the murky brown water. Three feet deep in this section, there are apparently snakes and fish lurking below. Further down the Riverwalk, there is a damn with a drop-off, a man-made river continues from here.

I know the water looks dirty, but apparently it is really clean. Locals say you can see fish  in the water when the sun is shinning. I don't know if I buy in to that one? One really cool thing about the water though, is that people are allowed to bring out their canoes and paddle boats for a nice afternoon ride.

San Antonio was so clearly laid out. A pedestrian friendly city, everywhere we went, there were signs directing us to main attractions. Finally, a city I can navigate easily. I have a notoriously poor sense of direction, but I didn't get lost here.

I found myself outside the home of the old Spanish Governer. I can only assume that this is a statue of the man himself.

                                                                  Here he is again. What a handsome and dapper gentleman.

                                                 Speaking of handsome and dapper, here are my two men taking in the sights.

There is so much colonial history in San Antonio. Its a city seeped deeply in history in general. So many things happened here. So many characters of ole' floated through this town, from Davey Crockett, to O. Henry - who knew? Texas, to this New Yorker, is as exotic as any foreign country.

                                                             Everywhere we turned, there were historical landmark plaques.

There was a remarkable variety in the architecture. Some buildings looked Old Hollywood, while others were Spanish and French colonial. Then there were small cottages left over from the early German settlers. It was all very interesting to take in.

                                                                                            More historical landmarks...

You are looking at the side of the O. Henry House Museum. That's right, the writer himself once lived in San Antonio.

Now we're looking at the front of O. Henry's house. I didn't take pictures inside out of respect for the museum, but it has been left as it was. To the right there is a small bed and towards the back there is a kitchen and writing desk. So quaint, so cute- O. Henry!

                                        The trolleys were a great touch. I counted two service lines, there may have been more.

I loved this part of town. Historic Market Square in La Villita, was very Mexican and very artsy. The streets were festive and full of restaurants, shops, a farmer's market, a museum and an artisans bazaar. This is the largest Mexican marketplace north of the Rio Grande.

           Sombrero stand in La Villita. There were over 100 shops and stalls peddling everything from silver to vanilla extract.

                                                                                       Guess what.....more sombreros!

                                                                                Love these colors. Mini-guitars in La Villita.

                                                       A lovely Canadian tourist, snapped this photo of me in front of a tin horse.

                                             Marionettes, so much fun! I was tempted to buy one for Ohm but self-control won.

                                                           This building is so Texan. This is the entrance to Market Square.

The family shrine in the lobby of Mi Tierra restaurant. This place is a fun time (great atmosphere, not the best food to be honest, but hey...). Make sure you stop by the bakery for dessert though, the bakery is extraordinary. If you are a fan of good Mexican food, there are tons of local places to go to, to satisfy your craving. The locals are more than happy to point you in the right direction.

                                                                            The entrance to the Market Square shops.

                                                                           Market Plaza, same building as Market Square.

The Museo Alameda was fantastic! Affiliated with the Smithsonian, the museum chronicled the Mexican Revolution through documents, artifacts and (best of all) some of the most compelling oil paintings. The paintings were absolutely breathtaking. I know I'm a big museum nerd, but this one is a must-see if you are in San Antonio. I learned so much about the Mexican Revolution and the subsequent renaissance. Being a New Yorker, I knew very little about either.

               I happened to come across the Museo Alameda on the perfect day- "Free Day Tuesdays!" I left a donation though.

                                                                                             Downtown San Antonio

This beautiful monument is the San Fernando Cathedral, the first cathedral in the United States. In front of the Cathedral is a lovely square with cafe tables and chairs- the good life...

                                                                                   My men gazing at the Cathedral.

                                  My little cutie taking in the sights. Hmmm...he doesn't look impressed. He's a tough audience to please.

                                                                                       Taking a walk along the Riverwalk

                                                  The Riverwalk walkway. One of the many. The Riverwalk stretches for miles.

                                                                                        Ducks playing in the river.

                                                                                                  The Riverwalk

                                                                          The trail (rather, one of many) along the River.

                                                                                      Boat ride down the river.

On top of every building there seemed to fly the Texas flag. The lonestar state is a mighty proud place. I've lived in New York state for the majority of my life and could not tell you what our state flag looks like.

                                                                                    A monument near the Alimo

The courtyard surrounding the Alimo, San Antonio's first mission (formerly Mision San Antonio de Valero). This area was very melancholy but beautiful.

Here she is, the Alimo herself. I must say, she was much smaller than I thought she would be. The Alimo originally served as a home to Spanish missionaries and their Indian converts.

                           Here's a more intimate headshot. The Alimo has been beautifully restored and stands proud.

Apparently the Alimo was almost destroyed until the Daughters of the Republic of Texas stepped in and demanded that it become a historical site.

Eating lunch at Mi Tierra in La Villita. Can you spot the baby? Behind us was a beautiful mural depicting important Mexican American figures. Sadly, I must admit, I was not able to identify most of them.

Ohm came, saw, and conquered San Antonio. Here he is in the hat he picked out with his drool covered little fingers at the farmer's market in La Villita. Finally, a satisfied customer.

In Search of Vegan, Gluten-Free, Soy-Free, Egg-Free, Nut-Free Delicious Desserts

“I’m going to recommend, if you still want to breast feed, due to the nature of Ohm’s allergies, that you adapt a total elimination diet so that we can determine the source of his irritation.” “What does an elimination diet entail?”

“No dairy, no eggs, no nuts, no soy and no wheat.”

“What?”

“Absolutely no dairy, eggs, nuts, soy or wheat.”

“What can I eat?”

“Not very much. I suggest you stick to the hypo-allergenic baby formula.”

And there I was, standing beneath the fluorescent bulb of the examination room, my diaper clad infant splayed across my lap, six red raised splotches on his back, confirmation that he was indeed allergic to everything. I had a decision to make. I was being forced pledge ideological mommy allegiance. To breast feed or to formula feed. I was a breast feeder. I believe firmly that a mother’s milk is best. I nursed my son through the early pain and frustration until it became a comfortable part of our daily bonding. But after three and a half months, Ohm began to break out in horrible hives and eczema patches began to take over his soft baby skin. I was referred to a pediatric allergy specialist where I received the devastating news:  no dairy, eggs, nuts, soy or wheat if I were to continue breast-feeding.

I am an eater. I love food. With no allergies or food sensitivities, my system has never let me down; I have never known what it means to do without. Determined not to back down and give in to formula feeding my son, I gathered my list of things I must do without and attempted to move forward, cold turkey.

I’m lucky, to live part-time in New York where I have access to an enormous variety of niche foods and options.

A dessert girl through and through, the most difficult thing for me to give up was my thirst for baked goods and tasty sweet treats. After a little research however, I was able to find several bakeries with delicious alternatives to cater to my vegan, gluten-free, egg free, soy free and nut free needs. To my surprise, not only did I have options, I had a plethora of delicious and alluring desserts to choose from.

If you are faced with a similar plight as mine, or are on a strict diet, or simply want to sample a twist on your baked goods classics, here are some New York (Manhattan and Brooklyn) bakeries sure to satisfy your sweet cravings.

Brooklyn:

 Sun In Bloom: Vegan, Gluten-Free and Raw Kitchen in (Park Slope)

460 Bergen Street, Brooklyn, NY 11217

718-622-4303

My favorite things here are the chocolate-chip whoopee pies and the cupcakes.

 

Luv Tea Café (Clinton Hill)

14 Putnam Ave, Brooklyn, New York 11238

347-889-7435

You will find gluten-free/vegan snacks amongst the regular snacks. Everything is clearly marked. My favorite is the flourless dark chocolate cookies.

 

Champs (Williamsburg)

176 Ainslie St, Brooklyn, NY 11211

(718) 599-2743

Yummy cupcakes!!!!

 

Manhattan:

Babycakes

248 Broome Street (Btwn Orchard & Ludlow)

New York City, NY 10002

212.677.5047

Try the cinnamon buns, they are fabulous! You’ve also got to taste the cookies.

 

Of course there are other fine establishments, but these are the ones that I frequent. I'd love more tips to update my list if you have any.

* Side note, despite indulging in sweets, clear skin and weight loss are great side effects of the elimination diet!

What's In A Name?

“Sue-jerner?” “No.” “Sigourney? Like the actress from Aliens?” “No.”

“Sojoiner?” ”No.”

“Serjerner?” “No.”

I grew up with a large and inaccurate variety of names. It was inevitable that during the course of a day, I would have to correct its pronunciation at least five times.

As a child I wanted nothing more than to blend in seamlessly. In kindergarten I wore the requisite pigtails tied with pink bows. In first grade I took ballet and tap classes, pirouetting and shuffle ball changing my way to popularity. In second grade I read the  Ramona Quimby books just like my peers and chatted with them endlessly about the indignities of being seven in a world designed for thirteen year olds. My attempts to blend continued for years, yet despite my efforts to glide peacefully through my early life, my name was always there to trip me up.

I cursed my parents for not giving me a good sensible name like Jennifer or Samantha. Jennifer and Samantha were my favorite names. All of my dolls (and I had quite an extensive collection) had Jennifer or Samantha as either a first or middle name. I had no choice but to live vicariously through them.

It’s uncanny how our names, long or short, complicated or easy to pronounce define us. Like mantras repeated several times a day, we become subtly attuned to the vibration of our sound.

My parents decided to name me Sojourner. This was my father’s idea actually and I wonder if he thought it through.

A history professor, I know where he was trying to go with my name. From those who could actually place where my name was derived, I often heard “Sojourner! As in Sojourner Truth? What great shoes you have to fill.” These people almost always pronounced my name correctly and were rewarded almost always with a relieved smile.

Names like people evolve. Somewhere around my sophomore year of high school, I began to appreciate the unique sound of my name and the meaning behind its soft j and staccato o.

Sojourner Truth, was a lovely and accomplished woman, however, I saw myself in my name in a different way. I saw the romance of a canoe trip down the Nile. I saw the brilliance of the sunset across the Serengeti. I was called to the cobblestone narrow streets of Montmartre.

Sojourner, taken from the French word sojourn meaning to travel for a brief period was how I identified with my name. Having volunteered, worked and journeyed my way across 21 countries and counting, I am in every sense of the word Sojourner. My name has grown with me over the years, guiding, me, giving me permission to grow and evolve. My name allowed me to see the beauty in being different.

I chuckle now when I hear the familiar “Honey, where are you going now? Why can’t you just stay put?”

“Dad, you named me Sojourner, now let me sojourn.”

A name is always chosen for you, but you choose which aspect of that name defines you.  I choose to sojourn, to be a sojourner.

 

 

 

Hotel Week NYC

Happy New Year! We made it, it’s January, and January means hotel discounts throughout New York City. After charging exorbitant prices during the peak holiday season from November through December, New York City hotel prices drop to amazing lows in what is called Hotel Week.

Similar to Restaurant Week, where New York’s finest restaurants make way for the common man, offering reasonably priced prix-fix deals, Hotel Week, which runs from January 6th- 15th, makes the city’s most exclusive hotels accessible, if only for a little while to the masses. Hotels that are easily well over $500 dollars a night become available for anywhere between $100-$250 per night.

This is the perfect time for New Yorkers and visitors alike to plan a weekend getaway.

Tired of your apartment, your neighborhood, and the dreary predictability of January? Book a night or two at one of the participating Hotel Week hotels and see Manhattan through a new window, a high rise panoramic one offering some of the best views in the city. In fact, let yourself go, order room service, relax in the hot tubs and saunas, and get a massage. You wont have to pay for a flight and you’ll leave feeling refreshed as if you’ve gone away.

For those of you who don’t live in the city, if you can brave the cold, January is one of the best (in terms of price) times to visit New York. Not only are there post-holiday sales in the stores, but you can take full advantage of the winter wonderland that New York can become this time of year, from carriage rides in Central Park, to Ice Skating at Rockefeller Center.

Here are the deals:

$100 a night at the Pod Hotel, Z NYC Hotel, and the Hotel at Times Square

$200 a night for Andaz Wall Street and the Hyatt at 48th and Lexington

$250 a night at the Hotel Gansevoort

 

Happy 2012!

The Christmas Light and Window Displays in Manhattan

I love Christmas. For as long as I can remember, I have experienced what can only be described as full body possession by a deranged little elf towards the culmination of Thanksgiving dinner.  Dropping my fork, after my final serving of desert signified one thing and one thing alone- Christmas season had descended yet again.

 

This year was no different. With my final buttery bite of pecan pie on Thursday night it began. No, I was not elbowing my way into stores at the crack of midnight, the shift was more subtle, more about the sentimentality that the season ushers in. A feeling that causes one to hang stockings and string lights in order to make everything look a lot like Christmas. And I was in good company, because as I was preparing to make my apartment look a lot like Christmas, my city had grander plans.

 

One of the best times to visit New York is during the Christmas season. Manhattan hosts some of the most elaborate display windows and lights displays of the holiday season.  Best of all, you don’t need to spend a cent. As free to enjoy as air, anyone can enjoy the city’s festive flair. So grab a cup of savory hot chocolate ( preferably from Le Masion de Chocolat - so blissful) and enjoy a walking tour of  some of Manhattan’s finest Holiday displays.

 

When I set out to see the sights, I began at Macy’s on 34th street and 7th Avenue.

 

Next stop, Lord and Taylor on 38th street and 5th Avenue.

On to Saks Fifth Avenue at 50th street (ish) and 5th ave.

 

When I was done there, I made the trek over to Rockefeller Center where I caught a glimpse of the giant spruce (not yet lit) and watched the skaters take a few laps around the ice. The plaza was fully decorated as were many of the shops nearby.

Henri Bendel's at 56th street and 5th ave

Now on to one of the most elaborate displays of the evening- Bergdorf Goodmans at 5th avenue and 58th street (ish).

After taking in all of the Manhattan holiday sights and sounds, I am inspired to outdo myself this year when it comes to decorating my apartment for Christmas.

 

The Great Gap Year Debate

Go to college… Go to grad school… Get a job… Travel the world…  

If these were all regarded as viable and respected options, which would you choose and in what order?

 

I often think about this. Reflecting on my path, specifically during my late teens and twenties, if I knew what I know now about the world, would I have done things differently? I think I would have re-arranged the order of a few things. I would have squeezed in more travel time. I would have taken a gap year.

 

I’m not unhappy about my accomplishments. I have done an extraordinary amount of things; I’ve seen a great deal of the world. You know that life well lived feeling you get when you do something exciting or reach a new milestone, I’ve felt that more than once. I just can’t shake the feeling that with a broader variety of acceptable options, I could have done so much more, found my place in the world much sooner.

 

Imagine an American society where young people are encouraged to exist within a different context, where the decision to take a year off to live, volunteer or work in a different country is widely supported and looked upon as a valuable right of passage.

 

Imagine…

 

Yesterday, I read a blog post written by Rita Golden Gelman, author of Tales of a Female Nomad  calling for the establishment of an international gap year norm in the United States.

 

A fearless traveler, who chronicles her adventures through books and blogs, Gelman has been on the go for the last twenty-five years and talks candidly about her experiences connecting with people in the communities in which she travels in an authentic and compassionate way.

 

Gelman raised two points that resonated with me. The first, being the simple fact that if more Americans took the time to travel internationally and experience life in a different place, there would be much more compassion in this country towards the greater global community. I think this would also carry over to our own back-yards, not only would young Americans be more empathetic towards the plights of others around the world, but towards the plights of those in their own communities at home.

 

Second, Gelman argues that a gap year, would allow students to develop their own passions and ambitions so that when they do enter college, graduate school or the workplace, they possess the self-awareness to enthusiastically pursue a life course they are well suited for. I couldn’t agree more. Travel has a way of stimulating our senses in a way they have never been engaged before. You are exposed to so many things as a traveler; you are bound to awaken something inside of you, a new interest, a talent, a passion that was allowed to lay dormant during the course of your everyday life back at home. The more people who enter college securely grounded by and passionate about their course of study, the more college graduates. Consequently, more and more colleges are allowing for gap year breaks.

 

Could an international gap year be the answer to some of our societal problems?

 

I first became familiar with the term gap year in 2005 when I took some “time off” to volunteer at an orphanage in Cape Coast, Ghana. One of two Americans it seemed in the entire town (I’m sure this is a slight exaggeration), I was surrounded by Europeans (mostly British and German) and Australians on their gap year.  I was completely in awe of this cultural phenomenon, where people in their twenties were encouraged to take a year off to live, interact with and explore the world so that they could better understand and appreciate their place in it.

 

At home, when I declared at twenty-five, after having invested three years towards a teaching career in New York (that I wasn’t sure I wanted), that I was going to take time off to experience other people, places and perspectives through volunteerism, I was most often met with “why?” Why did I need to go to Ghana to help people when so much help was needed at home? Why did I want to go to Africa, surely it would be dangerous, and I’d get malaria or be mauled to death by a lion. Why did I want to put a career on hold, when there was money to be made and opportunities to seize? The answer- I was simply curious, I wanted to experience life from the perspective of those living in the developing world. I wanted to see Ghana, whatever it looked like, sounded like, smelled like. I wanted to take a moment to give in a way that I had never had the opportunity to give of myself before. I needed a break, from New York, from the East Coast, from North America. I didn’t know why or how, but it was time for me to go.

 

I have met others like me, who have acted on our unpopular desires to get out and experience the world. But why do so many young Americans repress their desire to travel. What is it about the culture of this country that perpetuates such extreme isolationism, xenophobia even?

 

The statistics speak volumes; only 37% of Americans hold a passport. Now granted, we are a large nation relatively isolated barring Canada and Mexico, and a large number of Caribbean nations, and hmm…. Central America and honestly, South America is right next-door too, so I guess we aren’t exactly isolated; we can’t use that excuse. Americans seem to be the great practitioners of isolationism. Used to having comforts, used to being comfortable, used to having others adapt to our cultural norms and language, for most Americans, being outside their comfort zone is terrifying. This terror is reflected in everything we do, and shapes our view of the world. Could it be, that the world outside the boundaries of the United States of America is just as beautiful, just as inspiring and safe? Could it be, that the people outside of the boundaries of the United States of America want in many ways, the same things that we want, laugh at some of the same jokes, fear many of the same fears.

 

Obviously not everybody will want to take a gap year, not everyone is suited for travel, but for those who are, who haven’t been presented with the option or the tools, a gap year would be profound and life shaping. Everyone who wants to experience a gap year should be able to without being made to feel guilty, reckless or aimless.

 

One of the biggest arguments I hear when embarking on volunteer projects abroad is that I am ignoring problems in America. I completely disagree. We need to shift our focus from the part to the whole. Volunteering abroad builds compassion and empathy. Seeing the poverty and riches of others puts one’s own place into perspective. I have always to this day been involved in some sort of volunteer work in the United States. The assumption that my back is being turned on my country when I expand my outreach to some of the most desperate areas of the world is ridiculous and usually comes from people who have never volunteered their time before in any context whatsoever.

 

I would love to take a gap year. I probably won’t see mine until I retire (I’m married with a child now); however that won’t stop me from taking mini gap year-like escapes every few years. It is important to me. I feel it’s my duty to ensure that my son is exposed to the world. And when he finishes high school and is faced with that challenging decision as to what to do next, if the answer is a gap year, I will be behind him 100%.

 

 

What do you think? Would an international gap year norm in the United States be beneficial or detrimental? Have you had an experience with a gap-year, or study abroad program that you’d like to share?

 

For more information on Gelman’s gap year organization, you can visit her website www.letsgetglobal.org.

 

 

Must Have Accessories for Infant Travel

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With a little (okay, a lot) of extra planning and creativity, your newborn can be your best traveling companion. The following are some accessories that will make your travel experience with your infant a much more enjoyable and carefree event.

1. Baby Bjorn Carrier

I never leave the house without my Baby Bjorn. This is such a handy and durable carrier, whether you're going to the grocery store or embarking on a five-mile hike. This carrier is sturdy, so you can have your hands free, do something physical and feel confident that your baby is snug and secure. This is a great carrier for the outdoors.

2. Moby Wrap Carrier

I love this carrier as well because it allows for discreet breastfeeding. I use this carrier when I'm doing less physically demanding things, such as eating dinner at a restaurant or going to a museum or shopping. The Moby is cloth and molds your baby to you. My son loves being toted in his Moby, and I love that it allows me to breastfeed in public without having to flash my breasts to the world.

3. J.L. Childress Changing Pad with a built-in baby wipe packet

Public changing tables are a hotbed for germs-yuck. I never lay my little one down without the security of a changing pad. The J.L. Childress changing pad is great because it has a built-in baby wipe packet to store your supplies and can be wiped down and sanitized after touching that dirty changing station. Changing pads are also handy if there are no changing stations in sight, as you can unfold them on the seat of your car or on your lap to create an instant diaper changing surface.

4. Okkatots Travel Baby Depot Bag

Ingenious I say, this bag is simply  the best! There are so many handy water proof pockets and sections in this bag that comes with a changing pad and dirty laundry pouch. You can pack your babies items for the day as well as your own and set out with just this backpack for a full days worth of fun. Mesh pockets allow for the easy drying and ventilation of pacifiers and there are built-in bottle holders as well.

5. Graco Portable Play Yard

I love this item! The Graco Portable Play Yard is really only handy for travel via car (unless you want to pay extra for your checked baggage) since it folds up to the size of a large stroller. The Play Yard doubles as a play/sleeping station and changing station providing a safe space for baby to snooze and play while at a hotel or relatives house.

6. Little Remedies Baby Travel Kit

Little Remedies is a handy little travel first aid kit to have by your side. Complete with saline spray, gas drops, a nasal aspirator and oral numbing gel, you pretty much are ready for anything with this kit. I like to throw a thermometer, baby Tylenol and nail clippers into the handy zip-up pack as well.

7. One Step Ahead, Tuck Me In Travel Bed

This bed is so great. Super portable, the Tuck Me In Travel Bed is inflatable and comes with little bumpers on the sides to keep baby from rolling out. This is a great alternative to the Graco Portable Play Yard if you are taking a flight and don't have a lot of room to pack extras.

8. California Baby Calming Basics Tote

Your baby has sensitive skin, that hotel toiletry set may work for you, but will most likely irritate your little-one. The California Baby Calming Basics Tote is a great solution. Complete with baby wash, lotion, shampoo, diaper rash cream and calendula cream, the products are scented with yummy lavender to encourage a peaceful rest for infants on the go.

9. Random assortment of plastic bags for storing wet clothes and holding dirty diapers.

Never underestimate the importance of hanging on to your grocery bags!

*All of the above mentioned items can be purchased online on amazon or directly through the manufacturers page. Happy traveling!

Ten songs that make me want to get my travel on!

I have the tendency to lose myself in elaborate daydreams, often sparked by hearing a familiar song or two. The following ten songs, make me want to lose myself in adventure. The artists listed are not necessarily the originals, they merely sing the versions that speak to me. 1.  Mozambique  by: Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan's classic ode to the beautiful people and beaches of Mozambique resonates. My time in Inhambane, Mozambique was pure magic (well, most of the time) and this song stirs a longing in me. The Indian Ocean from the shores of Mozambique was so placid and warm.

2. You Belong to Me by: Carla Bruni

This romantic little song makes me want to set out solo and explore the world (cue my husband, singing the lyrics to me in deep mournful tones). In my fantasy, I don't stay away for too long and return home with souvenirs and postcards (don't ask why I don't send those, in my fantasy they peek out of the top of a brown paper bag) to a beautiful and happy reunion.

3. Africa  by: Toto

This song reminds me of so many moments I've experienced beneath the dark starry southern African sky. It makes me want to return and relive those experiences over and over. There is nothing like the soft (and often-times not so soft) rains down in Africa.

4. Aux Champs-Elysees by:  The Gilles David Orchestra

Who doesn't want to stroll merrily along the Champs-Elysees, baguette and brie in a bag slung over their shoulder? I do! I experienced Paris once and I have memories of my friend Freddy and I singing the song excitedly as we took it all in. I also remember an argument regarding who sang the correct lyrics and who had the better accent but whatever. It was mostly a beautiful moment, one that I long to experience again.

5. Country Roads by: John Denver

This song reminds me of driving down the dirt roads in Brandywine, Maryland. It reminds me of the beautiful landscape of New England in the Autumn (don't ask) and of the often overlooked beauty of the Mid-Atlantic in the Summer. It also makes me want to embark on a road-trip, something I've fantasized about, but have never managed to experience.

6. Leaving on a Jet Plane by: Peter, Paul and Mary

This song stirs in me the excitement of a new journey; of leaving things behind, notes of uncertainty and even melancholy in order to pursue the unknown.

7. Changes by: Seu Jorge

This song takes me to the idyllic Brazil that I only know from my imagination, from my longing. Forever on my list of places to experience, Seu Jorge's version of Changes stirs the romance, the grit and the free-spirited movement that I know awaits me when I finally make it to Bahia and Rio.

8. Girl from Ipanema by: Pery Ribeiro

This song evokes the sultry, rhythmic, salty essence of that undulating ocean water on Ipanema Beach in Rio, where I've never actually been except in my imagination. I want to go. Pery Ribeiro makes me want to grab a caipirinha, throw on a sarong, put a flower in my hair and dance on the beach as ocean water laps at my ankles. In another life, I swear I've been there.

9. Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans by: Billy Holiday

New Orleans is a magical exotic place, one of the most mysterious and culturally unique cities in the United States (in my opinion). This song makes me want to visit the Louisiana Bayous, taking in their lush and murky beauty. It makes me want to go back in time and stroll the French Quarter with its cobblestone streets, towering French architecture and Jazz.

10. Sail Away by: Enya

With a voice as etherial as ocean mist, Enya makes me want to set sail from the foggy shores of the British Isles on a slow and dewy morning. This song makes me want to go to Ireland and watch the sun set from the vantage point of a rolling green cliff, a misty breeze ruffling my hair. Freeing and meditative, Sail Away, invites me to do just that, to sail away and lose myself.

Help me choose my next travel destination

Hey Everyone, I'm trying to plan my next family getaway and I need some ideas. For the first time we'll be traveling with an infant so I'd like to keep the flight from New York relatively short. We want to leave either late Fall or early Winter, other than that I'm open. If you have any suggestions go ahead and post, I'd appreciate your help.

Best,

Sojourner

Traveling with a Newborn: Ohm's First Trip

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I have done nothing in my life as miraculous as giving birth to my son. A month old today, my life with Ohm has been an intense and primal love affair. On his own schedule from day one, Ohm arrived three weeks late, thus disrupting the bonding time my husband and I had planned at home. We literally spent the majority of the month of August indoors staring at each other ( I found a mole on his face I didn't know existed), having cancelled everything in anticipation of our little man. So when my husband, a musician with a touring swing band reluctantly packed up and shipped out for his Japanese tour one week after the birth of our son, I too found myself preparing to travel.

Staying in Brooklyn, where I had no family to assist me for the two weeks that Mark would be away was not an appealing option. My baby was great, but not that great. I'd read stories of stressed out new moms, left alone and I wasn't signing up for that. Aware of my limits, I packed my car, grabbed my alternatively sleepy and cranky newborn and headed upstate to my childhood home in Rochester, New York. Hi dad, I'm baaaaccckkk....

What normally would have been an extremely simple trip became an involved exercise in patience and strategy.

Part 1: The Drive

Getting there was a challenge. Not being able to leave Mr. Cranky Pants alone in the backseat of the car while I drove, I needed help. I called friends and relatives to see who would be available to drive with me from Brooklyn to Rochester. Nobody had an entire day free, but I was able to convince my friend Freddy and my sister N'Djamena to help me in shifts. As I sat in the back seat, keeping the peace like a UN negotiator, Freddy took the wheel and drove Ohm and I from Brooklyn to Albany, where my sister lives. Next shift, we picked up my sister who resumed driving duties, dropped Freddy at the train station and continued upstate. N'Djamena and Freddy's help proved to be life saving. There is nothing worse than driving with a screaming infant in the car, an infant you can't even see since the baby seat has to face the rear window. With mommy in the backseat, I was able to comfort and calm with relative ease. Ohm, did well on the drive and took turns fussing, sleeping and eating, but for the most part, he was a very good little boy.

Part 2: Creating a baby friendly environment

Any new parent will tell you that organization is key. If I was going to survive with my sanity for the next two weeks, I had to set up my baby center immediately and make sure that everything was in place to ensure both of our comfort. Whenever I go to Rochester, I stay in my father's study which comes complete with a twin day-bed and for the purpose of my visit a brand new travel friendly Graco Playyard (I would not have survived without this gift as there was no way for me to pack my crib from Brooklyn).

After handing Ohm over to bond with his grandpa, I dashed upstairs to put form and structure to our world for the next two weeks. I needed a changing station, a bathing station, a place to lay his clothes out, a laundry station, a bottle station and a place to put his bouncer. Traveling with a baby, means traveling with things, lots and lots of things. I got over myself very quickly and was resigned to wear the same three outfits as to not take up too much space.

You spend weeks (possibly months) planning your baby's room and setting your house up for your new arrival. Setting up a new space is no easy feat. Without my familiar nooks and furniture, I was forced to hijack bookcases, end-table tops, and any available space that I could find. The lamp table became the bottle station, the windowsill became the storage portion of my changing station, the surface of a bookcase was resurrected as a place to store and organize baby clothes. Within 45 minutes, I was in action.

Part 3: Your newborn and contact with people

Babies do not receive their immunizations until their second month of life. This means, that for the first two months of their lives as a parent you are bound to be a nervous, neurotic mess. So fragile and vulnerable to disease and colds, it's tempting to become a hermit until this time passes, but providing your child is healthy and your pediatrician gives the okay, it is fine to venture about in controlled environments (absolutely no crowds!).

Going out and about with your baby is all about common sense. Dress your newborn in layers (even in the summer), it is amazing how many temperatures you go through from outside, to the car, to inside an air-conditioned store or restaurant. Babies lose heat quickly as their circulatory system is immature (cover hands, feet and head regions). My Baby Bjorn carrier is a life saver. Not only is Ohm snuggled next to me, listening to my heartbeat, and benefiting from my body heat, but my hands are free, I am able to function and move and eat and enjoy my environment without worrying about supporting his head and rocking and bouncing and all of the fun details and restrictions associated with holding an infant. When heading into a somewhat crowded area (there are never truly crowds in Rochester), I covered Ohm in the Baby Bjorn with a receiving blanket (once a woman mistook my baby bjorn and blanket situation for a heart monitor machine, she pulled me aside and told me to be strong, to hang in there, that she would be praying for me- I had to break the news to her softly, that I was carrying my newborn, not a heart monitor). Whatever you do, don't let strangers touch your baby (they will try) and make sure that your visiting friends and relatives wash their hands before touching and holding your baby. The last thing you need is a sick infant.

Part 4: Locate a pediatrician who accepts your insurance ahead of time

To be safe, I wrote down the names and addresses of three pediatricians in the area, just in case. And it's a good thing.

During   bath time one morning, I noticed what looked like bruising at the base of my son's spine. I took note, told myself not to panic, handled him very gently and checked back the next day. The bruising was still there. I then, looked up bruising in newborns on the internet and was presented with horror stories about leukemia and blood diseases. I called the doctor, scheduled an appointment and was informed that my son had developed his birthmark. I was so relieved and felt completely foolish, but was glad that I had the option of going to a doctor. While there, she even gave him a full physical and took the time to answer questions. The piece of mind was priceless.

Part 5: Pack extra clothes in that diaper bag

While out in public one afternoon, Ohm became hungry. I covered my chest with an extra receiving blanket and proceeded to nurse. Everything was going well until I burped him and after emitting an enormous belch, he proceeded to spit up. Not only did he spit up about a half cup of milk, he spit up blood, right down the front of his baby blue jumper. My panic turned to horror. I wiped at his mouth with the receiving blanket looking for the source of the blood, everything seemed fine. He didn't appear to be in any pain or to have any cuts. I wiped his bloodstained clothes as dry as I could and tried to understand what had occurred. It wasn't until I looked down at my chest did I realize the problem. I was the bleeder. Nursing in the early days/weeks, is no fun. My nipples were dry, they were cracked and sure enough, my nipple had a deep bleeding crack. I was bleeding through my bra and shirt. The scene looked gruesome and I was completely embarrassed. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice. We removed ourselves as quietly as possible from public view, went home and changed. Note to self, pack an extra outfit for baby and have an extra bra and t-shirt in stock for mommy, just in case...

Overall, our Rochester adventure was a success. Before I knew it, Mark, back from Japan, had joined us for our final days upstate. Our two weeks in Rochester flew by. I was fortunate that Rochester is such a baby and child friendly city. People appreciate babies. Unlike in certain restaurants in Manhattan, where you are scowled at the moment your baby coos, people greeted Ohm with smiles, even when he was having a meltdown. We thoroughly enjoyed the fresh air break and the comfort of family and friends.

Most people do not travel with a one week-old, however, sometimes you have no choice. Know that it can be done, and it can be fun as long as you have a little help from family and friends and as long as you are prepared for the unexpected.

6 Things To Do When Visiting Not So Laid Back Phuket

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Phuket, unlike Kao Lak, is not a laid-back, beautiful sanctuary. Some parts are laid-back, some parts are beautiful, but Phuket is gritty, Phuket is loud, Phuket is polluted, Phuket doesn't sleep, and Phuket is home to one of the most famous sex districts in S.E. Asia (hello lady boys of Patong). Despite these set-backs, we managed to have a fabulous honeymoon. We rose every morning with the sun, took full advantage of the phenomenal breakfast spread at La Meridian (complete with an assortment of fresh tropical juices), learned to swim in the pool around eight am, before the other tourist began to crowd in, took daily dips in the salty Andaman Sea and rented a motor bike so that we could have the freedom to set off on our own adventures.

Taking on Phuket:

Get a Thai Massage

In my opinion, there are few things as pleasurable as a Thai massage. Full bodied, reaching your deep tissues, relaxing and interactive, Thai massage is my favorite form of massage. There were several places for Mark and I to get one. Almost every beauty shop we passed offered massage. My favorite location though was under a canopy on La Meridian's private beach where I could hear the ocean lapping against the sand and the distant call of nature. Massages are very inexpensive, around tend dollars for an hour.

Go in search of the giant white Buddha

While in the bike rental shop, we were advised by two local women that we must take the trek into the mountains to see the giant white Buddha. That was all they had to say for me to be intrigued. Mark was on board, and with little more than make a left at the church, a right when you hit the water and follow the signs, we were on our bike, heading in the direction of the giant white Buddha, to see what we could see. The ride was very scenic, especially once we headed up the side of this mountain through a small isolated town. We stopped several times to take pictures of the sun making progress towards setting over the ocean. Then, sure enough, in the distance at the top of a hill sat what literally appeared to be a giant white Buddha statue. We made it to the top just as the sun was setting. After posing for a few pictures, we spent some time in the monastery and Mark attempted to ring a huge Tibetan bowl.

Take an Elephant Trek

I am a huge fan of pachyderms. I think they are some of the most graceful , grounded and beautiful creatures to grace the planet. Thailand is one of the natural habitats of the Asian elephant. Elephants are everywhere, whether embroidered onto clothes and tapestries, or represented in statues and paintings. Elephant trek safaris are everywhere as well.

There was a trek site, not far from the white Buddha statue relatively near our hotel. Mark and I found ourselves riding our bike (correction I sat on the back with my arms in a death grip around him, as he sped up a narrow mountain path) to the elephant camp. At first, my heart melted. Two baby elephants were out front doing tricks. In exchange for a trick they would get a banana. Visitors could pay a few baht to feed the elephants as well. I fell for that hook line and sinker and before I knew it, had emptied my purse of all its change in exchange for a bunch of bananas. My hand was covered in elephant mucus as their little slimy trunks reached towards my hands. They were so cute. I was babbling and cooing with little gray, mini-cooper sized elephants. Their beautiful black eyes surrounded by thick long lashes played with me. It wasn't until I was called away to board our trekking elephant that I noticed the chains. These beautiful little babies, were chained by the foot to a stake in the ground. They could barely move. They stood, placidly rocking back and forth, smiling and entertaining in perfect unnatural misery. This put quite the damper on my mood.

We boarded our elephant for the trek, a large female with a steady slow gait. Our driver (if you can call him that), an elderly gentleman with no teeth and a willing smile called out orders to the elephant as he perched on her head behind her ears. It took a while to get used to being jostled about in the basket on the elephants back, but once I did, I was able to enjoy the scenery, and the fact that I was riding on the back of one of natures most powerful and majestic creatures. Side to side we rocked, slowly approaching a bend around our steep mountain path. For some reason, at this particular juncture, our dear elephant had other plans. Instead of following the trail, I sat in horror as the elephant began to approach the edge of the mountain (I'm talking steep drop off and instant death). The man driving the elephant began to panick and set off screaming at the creature in Thai. The elephant continued to lead us towards certain death. The man pulled out a long iron hooked instrument and began beating the elephant behind the ears. The elephant stopped for a moment, before continuing on her path, the one that lead towards certain death. I wasn't breathing. I squeezed Mark's arm and searched for a way out with my bugged eyes. There was none. Our way out was a steep drop off the side of the mountain. Mark was silent, but his petrified look said everything. Meanwhile, the driver, realizing the situation could turn ugly really quickly jumped off of the elephant's head (perhaps to save his own life) and ran in front of the animal, putting his body between us and the edge of the mountain. With his little iron weapon, he began beating at the elephant until she slowly stepped backwards. I was so fearful for my life and all the while, I was so sad for this poor elephant.

We finished the rest of our trek in somber silence. Despite the tropical beauty around us, there was little to take pleasure in besides the fact that we had our lives. Elephant treks are really cruel. The treks aren't cruel, but the treatment of the elephants for the most part is deplorable. Between the chains on their legs and the beatings with the iron hook, I could see why our elephant considered jumping. Free the elephants I say!

 

Eat! Eat! Eat!

There is so much great food to take advantage of in Phuket. In Phuket town and in the city you will  not only find Thai food but a vast assortment of ethnic cuisine such as Italian and French. Mark and I actually had a really tasty Italian dinner, but who comes to Thailand for Italian food.

Eaters to the core, we left the Phuket city center and sought out our dinners elsewhere. Since we had our bike, we would ride out into the Thai neighborhoods where few tourists could be found and helped ourselves to the locally owned food establishments. We ate so well. The vegetables were fresh and perfectly seasoned. The calamari, muaw, tasty and crunchy greatness. Mark was a big fan of the red snapper meals, while I typically went for the veggie curries (red, massaman, green, they were all delicious). The curry in Thailand is thin like soup and was served with coconut sticky rice.

I couldn't partake in the beer drinking festivities, but Mark had a ball with the local brews.

My drink du jour everyday was coconut in the raw.

 

Have a suit tailor-made

Thailand is apparently famous for tailor-made suits. On every street their seemed to be a tailor shop boasting high quality suits with the latest cuts for a quarter of the price. Master imitators, tailors claimed to be able to re-produce any suit from Armani to Gucci.

This meant nothing to me, but Mark became a kid in a candy store and thus began our great suit endeavor. I was dragged from shop to shop and forced to sit through lengthy fittings. I am very impatient, this was not a highlight, but by the time we left, Mark had three new suits to call his own and only paid about a hundred dollars for each one. Despite it all, I must admit, he looked quite debonair.

 

Visit the local temples

The Wat Chalong temple was an ornate pleasure. Wat Chalong is vast, consisting of several buildings and shrines and a large expanse of manicured lawn. A Buddhist temple, some of the buildings held golden statues of Siddhartha Gautama that told the story of his life and rise to esteem.

In front of every building you will find a pile of flip-flops. You are absolutely not allowed to wear shoes inside the sacred spaces. It was a gift to walk delicately and intentionally throughout the devotional spaces.

 

Our Honeymoon in Phuket, Thailand

I always knew I'd find an excuse to return to Thailand. My honeymoon was just that.

I first encountered the beauty of Thailand in February of 2006, about a year after the Asian Tsunami ravaged its shores. I was in Kao Lak then, visiting my friend Susan who was on a long term volunteer assignment. Kao Lak, despite the devastation was stunning. I was entranced by the shimmering Andaman Sea, uplifted by the incredible resiliency and spirit of the people, disarmed by the stunning landscape and felt a sense of deep and overwhelming peace.

I always knew I'd find an excuse to return.

When my husband Mark and I were talking about honeymoon options Thailand was at the top of our list. He had never been, and I had enthusiastically talked it up for months. (Truthfully, I wanted to honeymoon in Mozambique, but I am pregnant and venturing to a malaria endemic region at six months is not the smartest idea). Deciding that we wanted to have a slightly traditional honeymoon (in the sense that we didn't want to stay at a backpackers lodge and rough it too much), we booked our package through a travel agent (I never do this, I probably won't do it again), who gave us an excellent deal on our flight and hotel. This was where the excellence stopped.

I remember telling the travel agent, that we wanted to stay in Kao Lak. We even went so far as to specifically choose the La Meridian hotel in Kao Lak after a recommendation from Susan. Murphy's law being Murphy's law, this didn't quite work out. Somehow, somewhere, we were booked at the La Meridian in Phuket (a few hours away). This I noticed way too late as we were chatting with an Australian ex-pat on the flight from Bangkok to Phuket. Now we've learned that both hotels are fully booked. There will be no changes.

So here we are in Thailand, on our honeymoon in Phuket instead of Kao Lak. I suppose things could be worse, we could be in Niagara Falls.  We are after all still in Thailand, we are still at a beautiful La Meridian resort, and we are most importantly still on our honeymoon, so it is.

The La Meridian hotel is absolutely stunning. Set back off of the main road, surrounded by a private beach and a foresty mountain view, we're protected from the chaotic hub that can be Phuket. Our ocean view room is lovely (minus the small ant infestation in the bathroom).

It is now nap time, (this 12 hour time difference is rough)  but I can't wait to get out and explore our accidental surroundings.

The Imperial Palace and Gardens

Sweet Makiko, who I met while training to go to Mozambique lives in Tokyo and we met up a few times. She took me around and showed me the ins and outs of Tokyo. Well, she showed me what she knew, she had just moved to Tokyo from Osaka and was almost a tourist herself. But Makiko was Japanese and spoke Japanese, that means she was able to translate and explain bits and pieces of the culture to help me better understand the complex hub that Tokyo is.

After meeting me at Hotel Okura, where I am staying with my now fiance (that's right ;) I got engaged last night :0)  ) we traveled via the subway in search of the Imperial Palace and Gardens.

The Palace, home to Japans emperor and his family was quite the sight. Surrounded by a moat filled with swans and giant gold-fish, the palace and gardens are hidden behind a giant wall. Open to the public, complete with a museum, the palace is a major tourist destination.

Cooked Sushi

I am pregnant. My list of things that I can not do is vast. I can not drink sake. I can't visit the famous Japanese hot springs. I can not eat sushi. I thought I was doomed to spend my time in Japan slurping down noodles until Mark and I found this sushi establishment in Rapungi. On the menu, seared sushi- I was saved.

The sushi was so fresh. I ordered shrimp and salmon (it's best not to get too crazy during the first trimester).

The chef made our rolls right there in front of us.

Our sushi came with a bottomless  cup of green tea.

*Note: Asking for ginger and wasabi on the side is a bit rude. The chef looked mortally wounded when we requested this as we are accustomed to in the states. "I have already placed it inside" was his horrified reply. And he had, he knew what he was doing and the food was phenomenal.

Why I'm Loving Taxis in Tokyo

I'm a New Yorker. I find taxis to be off-putting. I don't know if it's the pine odor mixed with the smell of ripe pits, or the constant nauseating jostling, but I'm just not a fan of taxis. In Tokyo, I am a different person. Completely helpless when it comes to navigating their complex subway system on my own, I am not only dependent here on taxis, but I have come to enjoy them.

Why I'm loving the taxis in Tokyo:

  1. Taxis glide over the smooth streets with expert precision. No potholes or craters blemish the smooth facade of Tokyo's streets making for a sleek and comfortable ride.
  2. Taxis are everywhere and easy to catch. Outside of every subway stop for the most part, you will find a que of taxis. If you're not near a subway stop, you can hail a cab the good ole' fashioned way. If a taxi is on the street and empty, it is available.
  3. Taxi doors open and close automatically. This catches me by surprise every time. The taxi pulls up and before you know it the doors are open, ready to receive you. * Note to the wise, make sure you put your legs and arms in before those doors close ;)
  4. The aesthetic appeal is just plain quirky. Taxis are multi-colored and instead of having side mirrors by the windows, two large circular mirrors rest on the hood of the car, giving the appearance of the car wearing spectacles.
  5. All taxis are GPS capable. You will not have to worry about the cab driver telling you "Sorry, I don't know where that is, unless you can give me directions you will have to get out!"
  6. You will not have to gag on that conspicuous pine scented car freshener odor. Taxis are clean and odor free.

* Note: Most taxis have a starting rate of 710 Yen. Which depending on your destination does not make for a cheap ride.