Tulum from Cozumel: Six Reasons to Take an Eight Hour Tour

Posted on February 21, 2012 by

I admit, I was very skeptical about visiting Tulum as a cruise ship excursion.  I’d read many bad reviews and blog posts about it—like this one.  But I’ve always wanted to go there, and I didn’t see myself visiting Mexico on my own any time soon (at least I didn’t before I took this trip…)  And even picky, obsessive compulsive, group-tour-hating me had a very enjoyable day.

There are a number of reasons why this is a site best visited on your own, such as time constraints and the annoyance factor of always traveling with a large group.  I hope to return to Tulum—the ruins and the awesome little beach town—some day soon.  But there are also a number of reasons why this is a great shore excursion.  Here’s six for you right now…

From the ferry dock in Playa del Carmen

 

-You get to leave Cozumel and travel to the mainland.  Cozumel seems difficult to visit.  The port didn’t look all that interesting, and from what I understand it is a cab ride to anything worth touring.  If I ever return, I’m sure I’ll explore the island of Cozumel, but this excursion gave me a chance to see the mainland, which I loved.

Tacky tourist crap and bright buildings in Playa

 

-You get to (briefly) see Playa del Carmen.  This is the resort town I was looking for.  White sandy beaches with little huts and palm trees and volleyball courts as far as the eye can see.  Little shops selling crap, funky restaurants, and non-pushy sales people.  I’d visit Playa del Carmen on my own.  I’m glad I got to see it, if only when passing through from the ferry to the bus. I will be back some day (soon) to spend more time there.

-The ferry ride from Cozumel to Playa del Carmen is awesome.  It is better than any amusement park ride I’ve ever been on.  They said the crossing was rough.  That was an understatement.  It was like riding Disney’s Tower of Terror for 45 straight minutes.  If you don’t think this sounds like fun, trust me, it is.  Just take Bonine before you go and you’ll be fine.

-Speaking of the ferry…there is free wifi on board the ferry!  I did the math, and this makes the entire excursion extremely economical.  You see, 90 minutes of wifi would cost approximately $73 on the ship.  I think the excursion itself was only $100.  So for $26 more, I got ferry transport, bus transport, a guided tour, admission to the ruins, lunch, and an hour on a beautiful beach.  And I got to check my email and get my Facebook fix.  I cannot tell you how happy I was for that 90 minutes of wifi! As a bonus, it made the rough seas almost unnoticeable. Aside from the times when my seat dropped faster than I did!

My first glimpse of the ruins at Tulum

 

-The ruins are beautiful.  I can’t express this enough.  I actually gasped as we entered the grounds.  Palm trees, Mayan ruins, and turquoise blue surf pounding against a cliff.  Sure, we were only there for a little over an hour, but that’s one hour more than I’d ever been there before.  And in that hour, I think I took over a hundred photos.  There were iguanas and flowering trees and a beach…it was lovely.  I’ll stop wasting words on this one and let the photos speak for themselves.

In the town of Tulum

 

-If you choose the ‘with beach break’ option, you get to see the town of Tulum.  This is the beach town I was looking for.  About five minutes past the historical site itself, we turned left off the main road at Hostel Chalupa (where I’d never stay) and drove another ten minutes or so before we found ourselves in a cluster of eco resorts and vacation hut villages.  They all looked very primitive—including the one we visited for our lunch and beach time—but I could so see myself spending several days at one, swinging on a hammock, sipping something frozen with tequila in it (though admittedly, I’d likely get very sick from the ice, but whatever…I guess I could just drink warm tequila with lime.  Yes, I could definitely do that!)  I tried taking photos out of the window of the bus—and actually contemplated spending my beach time walking down the street with my camera snapping away, but didn’t want to wander to far and miss the bus back.  Because that would have been really bad.  But I will return here on my own some day.  Sooner rather than later.  I’d actually like to start learning Spanish, that’s how much I want to go back.

I hope my six reasons have convinced you.  Honestly, if I could love an excursion like this, anyone could.  And don’t worry—if you’re an avid shopper, there’s still plenty of shopping to be done.  Just use your ‘on your own’ time at the ruins to browse the stalls of crap for sale (I chose to use it to take photos, but that’s a personal preference thing) and everywhere you go, there will be crap for sale.  It will all be the same crap, and you will be able to buy as much as you want.  Hell, even I bought something—my requisite silver pendant.  I get one from every place I visit—or, rather, every trip I take.  I chose to devote this trip’s pendant to—you guessed it—a silver charm of the Mayan calendar.  Cheesy?  Of course.  But an inexpensive and wearable memory of one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.

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Grand Cayman: Native Way’s Rays, Reefs, and Rum Point Tour Review

Posted on February 19, 2012 by

I simply had to do this tour, not only because it got great reviews on both cruise critic and tripadvisor, but because it has an alliterative name.  And I adore alliteration.

At Stingray City, with stingray.

First, I must state that Native Way’s Rays, Reefs, and Rum Point tour seems the exact opposite of something I’d do.  It basically took us to three very typically touristy locations—Stingray City, the main draw for all cruise ship passengers, a coral reef snorkel, and a beach called Rum Point.  Before booking this cruise, I could not picture myself somewhere called Stingray City (it just sounds touristy, doesn’t it?), was not in a huge hurry to snorkel again (though I loved it in Bermuda), and definitely did not imagine that spending any time on a beach would be a good use of my time.  However, after taking this trip, I have to admit—this was the most relaxing and enjoyable day I’ve had in a long, long time.

The most relaxing part about the trip was that most of it took place on a small boat.  I love small boats (as long as they have a head, which this one did.  A very small, scary one, but it was there and we were allowed to use it).  We were only on a bus for five minutes at the beginning of the tour and at the end of the tour—driving to and from the yacht club where the boat was docked.  There were maybe thirty people on the little boat, which made it a little less enjoyable (mainly because 20 of them were a giant group of Asian tourists traveling together and not having any concept of personal space) but even that did not mar the beautifulness of this day.  Plus, as an added bonus, I happened to sit down next to one of the nicest people I’ve ever met—a woman named Kelly and her sister Cynthia, who magically knew me from Cruise Critic.

Our first stop was Stingray City, and it was not as crowded as I’d expected.  However, the water was much more rough than I expected—and apparently much more rough than it ever is.  But walking around on a sand bar in the middle of the open water with stingrays swimming around me—yeah, that was super cool.  We were there for a while—maybe 45 minutes, but I’m not sure—and I stayed in the water the whole time.  I allowed the tour guide to hold the stingray up for me to kiss it—though all I really wanted was a photo with it.  Kelly was kind enough to snap a few photos for me using the underwater camera my friend Jacque was kind enough to lend me.  In most of them, I don’t look too happy to be touching a stingray.  It felt…strange.

Snorkel self portrait

They then passed out squid for people to feed the stingrays.  I declined.  I’m not sure why I was freaked out about this.  Maybe because I get that they are wild animals—and killed that crazy crocodile dude—so should be treated with respect and a reasonable amount of fear.  Either way, instead of hand-feeding them,  I walked around trying to take photos of them and wishing I had a snorkel or at least goggles to facilitate better underwater photography.  Do you know what’s hard?  Taking photos of stingrays.  Just saying.  But I had fun trying.

After our stingray experience, we moved maybe a hundred yards away for our snorkel.  The area was full of coral reefs, and our guide explained to us that they picked this area because the water was so deep that there was no fear of hurting yourself on the coral—which was something I had difficulty with in Bermuda.  We stayed here for maybe thirty minutes, which doesn’t sound like long, but really, that’s a lot of swimming with fins on.  Plus the waves were still rather crazy, so several times I had issues where I inhaled water because my snorkel was submerged by a wave.  I ended up getting out after maybe 20 minutes to cough up salt water.  But the coral was lovely and teeming with fish.

We were then treated to the best part of the trip.  The boat took us directly to Rum Point, a scenic little beach with an even more scenic little pier at which we docked.  This beach wins the award for most quaint and beautiful I’ve ever visited.  And there’s no reasonable way to get there from the cruise pier other than by boat, because it is very far away via traditional roads.

Rum Point

I would have been happy if this was our only stop, despite how much I enjoyed the stingrays and the snorkeling.  That’s right, I said it—I had a nice time.  At a beach.  Doing pretty much nothing other than snapping photos.  I like beautiful beaches.  I’m not sure if that means that I’m growing as a person or regressing, but whatever.  It was beautiful.
As soon as we arrived at Rum Point, we were treated to lunch on picnic tables right on the beach (which was included in the very reasonable price of the tour)—I had the jerk pork, which was served with bean and rice, coleslaw, corn on the cob, and the best damn view ever.  We then had about an hour to swim, snorkel, relax in the hammocks or on the beach chairs or—if you’re me—walk around and take photos.  Because that’s kind of what I do.  But I did also wade into the beautiful crystal clear water for a bit.  It was a great ending to a great day.

But wait—the day isn’t over yet.  We still have to get back to the ship—which we did in the little boat once again.  As we bounced over the waves towards the other side of the island, I realized something—you can fill a full port day with ‘things to do’—but those things don’t have to be hectic or stressful.  They can be fun, relaxing, touristy even.  And that can still be one hell of a great day.

While I did pay full price for this tour (which can be booked through the Native Way website) and was not required to write a review, I feel like I should recommend it to others.  So hey others—take this tour!  You won’t regret it.
Oh—and I should mention this, as it was why I booked a tour on Grand Cayman in the first place.  The very best part of this tour is not something we did, or a place that we went, or even one specific tour guide.  The best part was this: there were over sixteen thousand people in port that day, and I did not notice it at all.  That’s really all I need to say.

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Bars, Beer, and Bladders: Where to Pee in New Orleans

Posted on February 17, 2012 by

The crowd inside and outside of Chartres House Cafe during Krewe de Vieux.

 

Warning: In case you couldn’t tell from the title, this is going to be one of those posts where I’m very open and honest about bodily functions.  So if you don’t like that, I’d suggest you stop reading now.

All still there?  Yeah I thought you would be.  Because you either already read this blog and know that I’m always open and honest, or you found me whilst searching ‘restrooms during Mardi Gras’ and are truly wondering how you are supposed to stand outside and drink for hours without peeing.

The view from our high bar stools was much better than this, but I had to move into the crowd to take a photo.

I wondered the same thing when heading out to enjoy the Krewe de Vieux parade, which I just recently learned is not only the first parade of Carnival season, it is also the only parade that actually goes through the French Quarter, thanks to the fact that the floats are rather small and horse-drawn.  Some people consider it to be ‘not even a real parade’ while others feel it is the only one worth attending.  These people are mostly locals–tourists like me were just excited to get to experience any sort of parade while in New Orleans, particularly so early on in the season.  I originally assumed that Mardi Gras was only one day–or perhaps a series of days leading up to Fat Tuesday itself.  Not so.  Which is how I found myself on the corner of Toulouse and Chartres on February 4th, more than two full weeks before the Tuesday before Lent.

Fortunately, I found myself on that corner with a very smart (local) friend.  We arrived about an hour before the parade passed, though it was already crazy packed.  Those of you who know anything about me will attest to the fact that there’s one thing I hate more than anything else, and that’s crowds.  My own personal version of hell is Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  But I was fine at Krewe de Vieux–because we got ourselves two of the last seats at the actual bar, on the side of the restaurant featuring the most important facet of any bar or restaurant–the restroom.  We were also sort of in front of the giant leaded glass windows looking out over the parade route.  We could not have had a better spot to witness the chaos–safely from our stools.

Knowing I had restroom access, I was free to enjoy my gin and tonic!

But what we also witnessed was a really, really long line for the bar, the owner guarding the door and preventing anyone–including those ordering drinks–from accessing the (one) restroom, and throbbing masses of drunken people outside.  I cannot tell you how happy I was to not be one of the members of said throbbing mass.

I can also tell you that had you been one of the throbbing masses, you would not have been able to pee anywhere.  You most certainly could not have ‘just wandered in’ to a nearby bar, as the entrances were being guarded by bouncers and managers.  See the guy standing in the doorway in the photo at the top of this post?  Yeah–that’s his only job.  At the end of the parade, we walked over to a different bar to sample some tequila (this bar was supposedly known for its many tequila varieties) but were not even permitted to enter, as it was ‘full’.  That’s right–there was a wait for a bar.

This lack of facilities–even when one is willing to pay for it with the cost of a drink–is a serious concern for the small-bladdered like myself, and I’m glad that I am aware of the situation.  In the future, I will either secure for myself 1.  a bar stool or a table, costing me money and part of the view or 1.  a hotel room with a balcony on the parade route, likely costing me even more money, but oh well.  That’s the price you pay for the privilege to pee.

So I have to ask–for those of you who attend parades and other outside drinking-based events–like tailgates and, say, Times Square on New Years Eve–where do you pee?  I’m honestly looking for tips and pointers, as I’d like to be able to attend such events more often. My tiny bladder has held me back for far too long!   

Please note:  all of the photos in this post were taken with my iPhone because I didn’t feel like taking my real camera out with me that night.  Thus the extremely poor photo quality.  Thanks for understanding! 

 

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My First Cruise Excursion: Chukka Horseback Ride ‘n’ Swim

Posted on February 16, 2012 by

Despite the fact that this was my third cruise, I’d never actually gone on a cruise-line-sponsored shore excursion before . I’ve already shared my feelings about guided tours,but based on the recommendation of many, many people I assumed to be more informed than myself (meaning they’d visited these ports before…or they were my overly-concerned mother) I chose to book a tour for each stop on my Western Caribbean cruise.  The first and last stops would be cruise ship excursions, and on my second stop I booked with an outside company–for the sake of comparison.  Up first–Falmouth, Jamaica.

On the way to the stables

After two and a half (rather boring) days at sea, I finally found myself in Jamaica.  Well, sort of.  I was in fake Jamaica.  Fake-maica, as I will call it from now on.  But more on that later.   I was headed out on my very first cruise excursion ever—something called Chukka Horseback Ride and Swim—and I wasn’t going to let something as minor as 40 mph winds and sideways rain stop me.  ‘Chukka’ is the company that runs most tours from Falmouth, and the ‘ride and swim’ part referred to the fact that we’d not only be riding horses through the fields and along the beaches, but in the water as well.

My first tip for such an excursion—and my apologies for the graphic nature of this tip:  if you are anything like me, wear a bathing suit…and a bra.  Seriously.  And by ‘anything like me’ I mean ‘anything over a c-cup’.  I fortunately have a strapless bra that’s completely undetectable under my bathing suit (which is also important, as there’s nothing less attractive than a bra under a bathing suit), and I’m so very glad I chose to wear it (even though it may be ruined forever after being submerged in salt water).

Weather on Jamaica is more changeable than anywhere I’ve ever been, and this includes London and Halifax, two cities with very changeable weather.  Or at least it was this day.  As it turns out, despite the fact that it did actually start to pour once on the way to the stables and once at the actual stables, we remained relatively dry for the duration of the tour.  And that’s really what it was—a tour.  Thankfully it was not as rushed as the only other tour I’ve been on—Bath to Stonehenge—but then again, it’s Jamaica, mon.  No one is in a hurry.

Upon disembarking the ship and making my way through Fake-maica in the sidewasy rain, there was some confusion as to where to meet for our particular tour.  But of course I managed to find some equally confused looking women also going on the horseback riding excursion whilst wandering about the throbbing masses of people lining up behind women holding signs.  Eventually we found our tour guide, were led to a van, and waited.

At the stables

After about ten minutes we were on our way.  I was seated in the last row, which prevented me from hearing anything that the tour guide said other than something about ’45 minutes to an hour’ which I assumed—with a bit of shock—that this was how long it would take us to get to our destination.  This annoyed me a bit, as I’d imagined that one could ride a horse anywhere, so there’d be no need to go very far.  Alas, I was wrong.  It seems that this port is so new, there’s really NOTHING in the immediate area.  And by immediate area, I apparently mean ‘closer than an hour away’.  So after two photos stops—one of which we just sort of pulled over to the side of the rode and pointed our cameras out the window—we finally made it to the stables.  Where there were restrooms.  Yay.

The ride itself was pretty neat.  I do have to admit that I had a good time, mainly thanks to the super nice guide that I’m imagining was hoping for a tip (I gave him one).  Said super nice guide became my personal tour guide for the day, telling me, personally, all about every plant, tree, and rock we were passing.  He even rode into the woods to pick guavas for us to eat.  I was a bit reluctant to eat it—having strange fruit whilst in the middle of the woods is never a good idea—but I did manage half of it before conveniently dropping it.  Ooops.  We rode through paths, past mountains—but not up them or near them as I’d imagined—and along two very scenic beaches.  It was a very nice ride.  I’d say we were out for maybe forty five minutes.  Definitely less time than it had taken us to get there.
At the end of the ride, we sort of rode through the shallow part of the beach and back to the stables, where we got off and they unsaddled the horses.  We then were taken out in smaller groups to ride in the ocean.  It was kind of crazy.  And difficult.  First, you are bareback.  So there are no stirrups and you’re holding on with your thighs.  Second, you’re sitting on this blanket-like thing that’s hooked under the horse…and that blanket-like thing moves.  And third, after one circle of the protected little cove, they actually start having the horses RUN through the water.  Like way, way faster than we’d done on land.  So you might fall off your horse.  And then the nice guides might have to help you back on.  And it might be really awkward.  I’m not saying I know anyone who did this…cough me cough cough…but just be warned.

On our way to un-saddle before the 'swim' part of the ride

Still, it was a fun way to spend a few hours.

We then had some free time to buy jerk chicken or Red Stripe beer or cheap crap at the ‘gift shop’ which was just a specific corner of the pavilion that contained cheap crap.  I used this opportunity to take some photos with my ‘real’ camera—that I was forced to leave behind because they wouldn’t let me bring my backpack on the trail ride and it was raining so I didn’t want to just wear it around my neck—and chat with some other cruise passengers.  Everyone seemed to have a pretty good time, and I was just glad I made it out of the water without embarrassing myself further.

The ride back was nice, apart from the man sitting next to me with no sense of personal space.  Seriously, if you are sitting in a small two-seater van bench with a stranger and you have plenty of room to put your entire arm casually between your legs, well, then your legs might be too damn far apart.  I had maybe 25% of the room available to the two of us, and I’m not a small person.

As we drove back, I tried to take photos out of the van window and wished desperately that I’d just rented a car.  I don’t know if that’s possible or advisable in Jamaica, but if I ever return it will be on my own, it will be for longer than a day, and I will do more than ride a horse.

All in all, it was a better day than I expected, but not as great as it could have been.  I guess I pictured riding through something more scenic.  Or up a mountain.  Or near a mountain.  I don’t know.  Something epically beautiful.  But it was a fun, unique experience, and not as rushed or crowded as I imagined a cruise excursion to be.  I’m glad that I got to see a bit of ‘real Jamaica’, because to not have left that terrible fake port area would have been a sin.  And even though I know that tour-guide-Sean (pronounced SEE-ahn) was just trying to get a good tip, he more than earned the tip I gave him, having acted as my own personal guide and photographer (though some of the photos he took will never be viewed by anyone.  I’m posing on a horse in a bathing suit.  Yeah.  Those are going to be deleted). And, um, he may have also rescued me from falling off my horse in the ocean.

Snapping photos after the ride

Would I recommend this tour?  Yes and no.  If you are docking in Falmouth, it’s a good way to spend the day.  It gets you out of the port area, and it’s a fun and unique activity.  If you’ve never ridden a horse along a beautiful beach, you really should.  And the experience of riding in the water—though a bit traumatic for me (did I mention that the horses shit in the water?  And that I fell in?)—was pretty awesome.

However, there’s still the ‘no’ part of my ‘yes and no’ answer.  That’s based on this—just don’t dock in Falmouth.  It’s a super cheesy port and it’s really far away from anything you want to do.  Fly to Jamaica.  Stay there for a week—or two.  Rent a car.  Drive around.  It’s beautiful.  I promise.

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Things I’ve Learned: The Solo Traveler and The Couple

Posted on February 14, 2012 by

Am I sad when I travel solo? What do you think?

I love to travel solo.  In fact, it may just be my favorite way to travel.  I can do what I want when I want at the pace that I want.  If I want to wander around a park all day taking photos of trees, well, I can.  And I do.  Additionally, I find that I meet so many more people when I’m traveling solo, simply because I’m more approachable when I’m by myself–and because I’m outgoing to a frightening degree.

But I’ve written all about my love for solo travel before, so most of you know this about me already.  What I have not addressed is something that I discovered during my most recent trip, another solo cruise, this time out of New Orleans sailing to the Western Caribbean.  I discovered that there are two different types of couples that travel together.  And being able to quickly differentiate between the two types is very important for the successful solo traveler.

Let’s call the first type of traveling couples ‘butterflies’.  Butterfly couples are good for the solo traveler.  They are outgoing, enthusiastic, and friendly.  They will invite you to dinner, chat with you at the bar, or offer to take a photo of you with your own camera (after witnessing you awkwardly try to take your own) even though you are solo and they are not.

Befriend the butterfly couple.  After all, as a solo traveler, you’d seriously limit your social opportunities if you only sought out other solo travelers to befriend.  Butterfly couples are happy traveling almost anywhere, because there’s always something new to see and someone new to talk to.  Because of this, you’ll find butterfly couples all over the world–in cities and small towns, in theme parks and on cruise ships, hiking, biking, and sipping wine.

This type of couple is the type of couple I’ve always been a part of.  Even when traveling with my husband–rare as that is these days–we are still open to meeting new people and being generally social.  Because this is how I am when I travel as part of a pair, I assumed this was how everyone was.  Not so.

The second type of traveling couples should probably be referred to as ‘caterpillars’.  And by ‘caterpillars’, I am referring to the caterpillar that’s still ensconced in his cocoon, completely unaware of what is going on around him.  Caterpillar couples travel so that they can be together.  They want to spend time with each other–and no one else.  This type of couple would be well served to hole up in an all inclusive somewhere, spending their vacation days ordering room service and gazing into each other’s eyes.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that–I suppose I can see the draw.  It’s just not for me.

However, caterpillar couples can also be found all over the world.  This means that you’re bound to run into one or two or ten, depending upon how frequently you travel solo.  But that’s ok, because now that you know about the two different couple types, you can quickly and easily identify them ‘in the wild’ (just don’t throw a big net over them and pin them to a board–they might not like that very much).

As a solo traveler, it is your job to find butterfly couples and steer clear of caterpillar couples.  Because butterfly couples will enrich your travels and quite possibly turn into life long friends, whereas caterpillar couples want absolutely nothing to do with you and, in fact, might be disturbed by your presence.  Some couples are so very caterpillar-esque that they can’t even understand why a person would travel solo in the first place.  But you know why–and secure in that knowledge, you can move on to the next bar, pool chair, or tour bus seat.  That’s the beauty of solo travel–you’re free to do just that.

For all of you solo travelers out there–have you encountered both types of couples on your travels?  And couple travelers–are you a butterfly or a caterpillar?  Or have you (appropriately, given the metaphor) changed from one to the other at some point in your life? 

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My Love Affair with New Orleans

Posted on February 10, 2012 by

I woke up yesterday morning and missed New Orleans.  I missed it.  The way you miss the person that you love when you are apart.  I yawned, stretched, opened my eyes, and rolled over in bed, reaching out to hug the city–but it was gone.  Just my stupid sheets in my own stupid bed in Pennsylvania.  No live music.  No festively decorated balconies.  No cornmeal-crusted anything.  Deep sigh.

What makes a person fall in love with a city in this way?  Since it was my first love affair with a place, it came as a bit of a shock to me.  So I gave it some thought, and I have several theories as to when I fell in love with New Orleans.  But I’m pretty sure I know why it happened.

Bourbon street at noon

It was definitely not love at first sight.  In fact, while walking around the French Quarter on the day I arrived, I recall thinking something along the lines of perhaps I scheduled too much time here.  No, I did not love New Orleans in my first few hours there.  I was unable to check into my hotel, exhausted from very little sleep the night before, and wandering down Bourbon street in the bright light of mid-afternoon (which is not really something anyone should ever do).

It wasn’t my first meal in the city that started my city-crush.  After my exhausted ramblings, I stopped for a sampler plate from Remoulade, featuring, among many things, my first taste of turtle soup.  Though I have to say–the fact that the waitress automatically brought hot sauce to the table did score the first point in favor of Nola and, particularly, its cuisine.  But my first literal taste of the city didn’t immediately ignite the passion I’d eventually feel towards New Orleans.

No, like most love affairs, I can’t really put my finger on exactly where or when it began.  There were moments when I realized that I might have feelings for the city.  The cocktail tour that evening was a pretty great first date with Nola.  While we didn’t go all the way that night, I could see the relationship going somewhere.  But the next day, things quickly turned serious.  Upon waking up–late–I slowly made my way down to the French Market cafe, where there was music playing.  So I sat down and ordered breakfast.  While basking in the surprisingly warm sun and listening to live music as I ate my meal–on a Thursday morning in late January–I realized how lucky I was.  I smiled at New Orleans, and she smiled back.

Oh yeah...that's love!

Holding hands and skipping down the street, Nola and I enjoyed two blissful days together.  We wandered through the park, visited more than our share of bars and restaurants, and chatted with the wonderful people that call New Orleans home.  We enjoyed po boys together, licking our fingers clean.  We took photos of street musicians–and tipped them accordingly.  Hell, we even rode a streetcar and visited the zoo.  By the time Saturday arrived and I had to sail away–which, when you think about it, is pretty damn romantic in its own right–I didn’t want to go.  As the taxi carried me away from the narrow streets of the quarter and toward the sterile halls of a commercial cruise ship, I snapped one last photo out the window of the cab.  Goodbye, New Orleans, I said in my mind.  I’ll miss you.

Had I been a cartoon, little hearts would have been streaming out of my eyes, knocking into things, and breaking into even smaller hearts.

It was on my last night in town that I realized not just that I loved New Orleans, but why I loved her…er, it.  You see, love is all about timing.  And at this point in my life, New Orleans was exactly what I needed.  And as I sat at a bar with a friend that night, I saw a cat out of the corner of my eye.  The cat was just wandering around the bar.  Being a cat, he (or she) felt like he had the run of the place, and a few moments later I noticed him up on one of the bar tables.  As he walked along the bar rail from table to table, he rubbed up against bottles of ketchup and women’s purses; occasionally someone would pet him, and he’d squish his face up in that happy cat expression that’s so damn cute.  And I thought–there’s a cat in this bar.  And no one cares.

This is why I love New Orleans.  Because for some reason, it seems that people there just take life a little less seriously.  And for me, this year has been about taking myself a lot less seriously–in fact, I just wrote about that over on my other blog, in a post where I finally allowed myself to curse in writing.  And why can’t I curse in writing if people in New Orleans can openly smoke in bars, men can paint themselves silver and stand on street corners with penis balloons between their legs and cats can roam freely amongst condiments on table tops?

I miss you, New Orleans.  And I love you.  Don’t ever change.

xoxoxoxo

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The New Orleans Original Cocktail Tour: One Drunk’s Review

Posted on February 8, 2012 by

My second tour of New Orleans was actually my first–in chronological order, anyway.  On my first day in town, I landed at Louis Armstrong International Airport at 11:30 in the morning central time–12:30 in the afternoon according to my body and brain.  I’d been out until two in the morning the previous night (yes, at a bar), and got a whopping three hours of sleep, from around 2:30 a.m. until around 5:30 a.m.  So of course I planned a bar tour for that same day.  Why wouldn’t I?

After wandering the quarter for the better part of the afternoon, I made my way towards the river to meet with the tour group.  I was concerned that I’d be the only one on the tour on a Wednesday afternoon, but that was not the case.  I’d say there were maybe a dozen of us signed up for the day.  I was surprised to see–much like the photo tour I’d take the next day–many people on the tour were locals.  I took that as a good sign.

Courtyard at The Napoleon House

The first thing you learn on this tour–after being handed your official tour beads–is that the New Orleans Original Cocktail Tour is not a pub crawl.  I was a bit disappointed to hear this at first, but felt much better when I realized what it actually was–a history-filled walking tour of the French Quarter featuring the very best part of New Orleans: its restaurants and bars.

Our guide took us to four locations around the city, the first and last being bars and the second and third being restaurants with bars.  The cost of drinks was not included, and after learning a good deal about the history of each establishment and taking a brief tour of each facility, we were given the option of ordering a drink at the bar.  Right.  Because I’d ever not order a drink.

The first stop was The Napoleon House, which was a bar I’d planned to visit on my own anyway.  We learned the history of the place–how it got its name (Napoleon was invited but never actually showed up, which I found very amusing) and then the bar tender took our orders.  It was suggested that we try a Pims Cup, which was a lovely drink involving caramelized gin, lemonade, and cucumber.  It is quite possibly my new favorite drink, and I ordered it again later on in my trip despite the fact that it is supposed to be a summer drink, not a January drink.

Rex room at Antoine's

As we wandered towards our second destination, our lovely tour guide gave us the history and stories behind several buildings and establishments along our way.  He was a very personable man, though I forget his name (I was holding a drink at this point, and thus not taking notes–sorry!)  I know we learned about some sort of gun shop and a little bit about the courthouse–but to be honest, a lot of the history gets muddled after a while.  That’s probably the only downside to this tour!

The second stop was Antoine’s, a New Orleans landmark.  We arrived before service began for the evening, and thus were given a chance to tour all of the dining rooms, including the ‘special’ ones in the back.  The tour guide made it seem like this was something not a lot of people got to do, but I did notice little plaques stating that ‘during non restaurant hours the rooms were open to be toured’.  Either way, this was not something I would have done on my own, so I was very glad that I chose to take this tour.  We were showed the crazy huge wine cellar in the far back, as well as the ‘super secret snail room’ where women are not allowed, and the Rex dining room which is reserved for New Orleans’ elite.  I didn’t even know there was such a thing as New Orleans’ elite, so that was educational in and of itself.  We then retired to Hermes, the bar on site, and were directed to order a Sazerac, which was a very strong drink involving rye and bitters served in a glass first coated with absinthe.  I did not order one myself, but instead had a taste of someone else’s drink (you get rather friendly rather quickly on a tour like this!)  It was…strong.

The entrance to Two Sisters

Stop number three was The Court of Two sisters, which was a beautiful building from entrance to courtyard.  I think the tour guide told us all about this restaurant, but I wasn’t paying attention because I was snapping photos (this happens a lot).  We spent the most amount of time at the bar here, as the group apparently was tired by this point, so we all actually sat down and enjoyed our drinks.  I don’t recall the name of the drink I ordered, but it was served by what has to be the nicest bartender in all of New Orleans (pictured in the photo at the top of this post) and the drink itself was amazing.  It was a layered drink consisting of Cabernet, a fresh squeezed fruit juice blend (that is top secret) and Southern Comfort.  Do you know what makes red wine better?  Whiskey.  While it was virtually a fancy version of Sangria, it was also really good.  And really strong.  I may have had two.

At this point my photos begin to become blurry and crooked.

We stumbled our way over to our last stop–The Pirate Bar, a place to which I’d return later in the week. Our reason for this visit–absinthe.  And since I was less than a block from my hotel at this point, I thought ‘why not’–and ordered a second.  And then finished several other people’s.  And had a lovely time chatting with a couple on a road trip from…somewhere.  I don’t remember.  Imagine that.  And then someone produced a King Cake from out of thin air.  I guess it was someone’s birthday, so pieces of cake–my first king cake–were passed around.  Do you know what’s really good after several strong drinks?  Yeah–cake.  Filled with pudding.

Absinthe at The Pirate Bar

It was a great way to end the tour.

Like everything else I did in New Orleans, I truly enjoyed this experience.  And, for those of you wondering the things I wondered–no, it is not a lot of walking.  Which was good given how exhausted I was at the time.  And yes, you will have time to visit the restrooms in each place you stop.  Which was good, given the fact that, well, you’ll be drinking a lot.  And yes, you should do this tour.  Ideally on your first day in town.  Even if you are really tired.  Because after this tour, you’ll sleep like a baby.  I promise.

My plan was to return to the bars that I liked from this tour, but there’s a bit of a flaw with this plan.  You see, there are so many bars and restaurants to visit in Nola, it’s almost impossible to become a repeat visitor–unless you move there.  Which many people do, I imagine for that very reason.  During the course of my four days in town, I also checked out May Bailey’s (a very nice hotel bar that’s perfectly dim and just fancy enough to be comfortable but not stuffy), some place on Bourbon Street that I don’t remember (gee I wonder why), Pat O’Brien’s (because there was music and the line for Preservation Hall was insane), Molly’s at the Market (post on this place to come–loved it and its creepy bathroom and ominous pickle bucket), Lafitte’s (an old blacksmith shop entirely lit by candlelight and featuring a piano player–totally awesome), the Carousel Bar (fun, but difficult to find your drinking companion after returning from the restroom, as the entire bar spins) and the bar at Chartres House Cafe (which I’d not return to, but it was a great place to watch Krewe de Vieux, which I will be posting about soon).

See?  Almost impossible to return to the same bar twice.  And clearly, I’m qualified to review a cocktail tour.

 

 

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The Best Tour in New Orleans: American Photo Safari

Posted on February 7, 2012 by

When planning a trip to New Orleans, you will find no lack of guided tour options.  There are so many, in fact, that one could fill an entire week’s stay with tours alone.  In New Orleans, you’ll find cemetery tours, haunted tours, and traditional walking tours.  If you want a meal with your history, you can take a culinary tour of the city.  You can choose between cocktail tours, swamp tours, and plantation tours.  In case I’m not being clear–there are lots of tour options in New Orleans.  But only one will provide you with lasting memories and skills to carry with you for the rest of your trip.  And that tour is the fantastic workshop tour offered by American Photo Safari.

See? Photogenic.

You all know by now that I love to learn.  It’s kind of my thing.  You should also know that I love to take photos.  Combine both of these things with a trip somewhere, and you’ve pretty much described my perfect day.  And that’s what American Photo Safari provides–an absolutely wonderful afternoon in the French Quarter, learning how to take photos in one of the world’s most photogenic cities.

I’d classify the lessons I learned on this workshop tour into three categories–things I learned about my camera, things I learned about photo composition, and something I’m going to call the confidence factor.  Each type of lesson was equally useful to me, as a beginning photographer.  However, the fact that there are so many different things to learn means that an American Photo Safari tour is great for a photographer of any level, from total novice to expert.

The things I learned about my camera (things like how metering works, which ISO settings to use in different light, how and why to fiddle with white balance) are likely different from the things you will learn about your own camera for two very good reasons–you have a different camera than I do, and you have different questions.  That’s one of the great things about this workshop tour–you will get what you need out of it.  Whether you are just starting out with photography or have been seeing the world through a lens for years, an afternoon with American Photo Safari will be a learning experience.  And, even better, at no point will you feel like you asked a silly question–even if you do (and trust me, I asked lots of silly questions).

I would never have even seen this beautiful shot had it not been for American Photo Safari.

Of course, you can have the very best camera in the world and know how to use every single setting, but it won’t matter if you don’t know what to look for or even how to look.  This is covered in this workshop tour as well.  I got some great shots that I never even would have seen had they not been pointed out to me–and this changed the way I looked at the world for the rest of my trip.  I began to look for small details, for ways to frame the shot, and for light and shadow.  In short, I learned how to look at the world with a photographer’s eye.  I’m not totally there yet, but everyone has to start somewhere.  And this workshop tour was a great place to start.

The final lesson type was something that I didn’t realize I signed up for–confidence building.  I don’t know about you, but I still feel kind of awkward walking around a new city pointing my camera at things.  I especially feel strange pointing it at people or into areas that I feel are considered private–courtyards, for example, which are simply everywhere in New Orleans.  Walking around with my small group, all of us wielding cameras and pointing them in every direction unashamedly, gave me the confidence to continue to shoot for the rest of my trip.  I sincerely suggest doing this tour at the beginning of a trip rather than at the end.

I'm no longer afraid to point my camera at people.

Trust me, your vacation photos will be much better for your effort.

Honestly, I learned more about photography from this workshop tour than I did in all of the book reading and internet searching I did when I first started out–all of seven months ago.  And there’s a very good reason for that.  You see, you can read all about photography.  You can even watch videos on You Tube and take notes (Yes, I did that.  Yes, I’m that much of a nerd).  But until you use those skills, you haven’t learned them.  On this workshop tour, you learn things as you are using them.  And that is more valuable than any book, video, or notes sheet.

I truly believe that the best way to see the French Quarter is not with a drink in your hand, but with a camera around your neck.  If you can manage both the camera and the drink, that would actually be even better.  But I’m not that coordinated.  So take a break from drinking your way down Bourbon Street and book a workshop/tour with American Photo Safari.  I promise, you’ll be glad you did.

If you’d like to see more of my photos either taken on or inspired by the American Photo Safari workshop tour, click HERE to see my New Orleans set on Flickr.  You can also feel free to poke around in my other albums to see how greatly my photos have improved.  Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing.  But hey–that’s what learning is all about–being able to see your progress and being proud of where you are as opposed to where you were.  And trust me–where I was wasn’t pretty!

In the spirit of full disclosure:  I was given the opportunity to take part in this workshop/tour free of charge in exchange for a review to be posted on Suitcase Scholar.  However, all opinions are, as always, my own.  If something sucks, I’ll tell you.  If something is awesome, I’ll tell you that too.  

 

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Coming Soon to Suitcase Scholar

Posted on February 6, 2012 by

On Bourbon Street, even my photos are tilted and blurry!

I’m back!  Whew!  That was an exhausting trip.  So exhausting, in fact, that I’ve been home for almost twenty four hours and have not managed to do anything productive yet–including photo editing or blog posting.  However, I did take lots of photos and draft many blog posts.  Plus I did lots of things I’ve never done before, so you’ll be hearing about all kinds of firsts for me.  Like my first time in New Orleans.  My first cruise ship shore excursion.  My first (too brief) visit to Mexico.  Many first food and drink experiences (ok, too many first food experiences!) My first less-than-perfect trip that I still enjoyed (or, rather, my first less-than-perfect trip that I didn’t totally flip out about).

In addition to these firsts, I also did many educational things on this trip.  I visited ruins.  I learned to use my camera on a photo tour.  I visited a zoo, was educated in Jamaican flora and fauna, and learned how not to approach a stingray.

Was this last trip my best trip ever?  Yes and no.  And you’ll hear all about why very, very soon.  But for now, I have to run.  Like literally, I have to run.  Those ‘too many first food experiences’ sure did add up!

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Why I Travel: The Revised Version

Posted on January 23, 2012 by

Me and my cruise buddies from my trip to Bermuda.

 

Several months ago, I wrote about why I travel.  I wrote that post at a time in my life when I was (clearly) feeling a bit stuck.  Now that I’m unstuck, I have a slightly different perspective.  Yes, I still travel to break up the monotony of every day life.  I also travel because I love to learn, take photos, and find inspiration for writing (and this blog, the most expensive hobby anyone could ever have).  But lately, the more I think about it, the more another reason floats to the surface.

I travel because traveling gives me the opportunity to meet and interact with so many different people from around the country and world.

Looking back over my past trips, it was the people I met that made each trip special.  From the lovely couple that we shared a meal with in New Brunswick to the random teacher I chatted with at a Bar Harbor pub to the lovely ladies I met on my last cruise, every person I’ve met on my travels has enriched my life in some way.  Some have even become forever friends.  And that’s the best souvenir anyone could ever ask for.

This next trip is exciting for me in part because of the people I know I will get to meet, as well as the people I don’t even know I’ll be meeting yet.  I have plans to meet up with two not-yet-friends, and know that I will surely meet many more friends-to-be I’ve not even anticipated.  So if you are out in the world and see someone who looks like me, say hello to her.  Even if she’s not me, she’s a possible friend-to-be.  And she just might make your trip all the more interesting and fun.

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