By Ruth J. Katz

Photos provided by Regent Seven Seas Cruises

It’s hard to imagine that there is feverish activity below decks, while you are more or less inert, above deck, sunning languorously poolside, with a frothy, umbrella-adorned beverage in hand. Such is “the life” on deck 11, on an at-sea day on Regent Seven Seas Cruise Line’s stunningly appointed Explorer, with its exquisite décor—punctuated by its extensive, on-board art collection, valued at some $6 million. 

But, on levels one, two, and three, there is unremitting bustle, a floating beehive in perpetual motion.  Your seamless and cosseted experience is possible only because this well-oiled hospitality locomotive—comprised of both “machinery” that boasts DNA as well as inanimate machinery—is constantly rechoreographing its balletic acrobatics, reacting to guests’ needs and assuring their comfort and well-being. 

Your experience is not about the state-of-the art sundry engines and sophisticated equipment that chug along without your being aware of them and which contribute to your seamless journey.  But, more importantly, it’s about the 2,200-odd legs and arms that belong to a crew of more than 550, a cohesive corps who inherently want to spoil you and the other 745 passengers on board.

Among the upmarket cruise lines, Regent stands arguably alone when it comes to truly embodying the meaning of that “all inclusive” sales message: No tipping; no add-ons for alcohol (save, for example, for a Connoisseur Cognac Tasting); no fees for the more than 2,000 diverse shore excursions, in over 500 ports of call.  (NB:  There are some tariffs for a handful of over-the-top adventures.)

Always on the qui vive for enriching and previously-uncharted experiences for its customers (many of whom are brand-loyal to the core), Regent staff and its boots-on-the ground excursion partners plumb their imaginations and local geography and history to dazzle you with alluring excursion programs.  Recently added to the mix are Behind the Design Tours and Eco-Connect Tours, all touching on popular themes.

In keeping with the mantra that pampering knows no bounds for Regent guests (clients fly Business Class to and from their ships, on intercontinental flights from the U.S. and Canada), the 4,443-square-foot Regent Suite on the Explorer—the ne plus ultra cabin—is outfitted with a $150,000 Savoir No. 1 bed, which takes 120 man hours to hand-build, and which sports a mattress-topper lavishly layered with horse-tail hair, lambswool, pure cashmere, and even Mongolian yak hair. The company refers to its Regent Suites (one per vessel) as the most exclusive addresses at sea.

But even if you are not in a Penthouse Suite, outfitted with a pillow menu (gel, memory foam, down, buckwheat-hull—you get the idea), you will find luxury and service above your wildest expectations.

And while you slumber in comfort, that city that never sleeps below you is humming 24 hours a day: The engines, the mechanical systems, a desalinization plant, the laundry and dry cleaning plants, staff quarters, food and alcohol stores, butcher shops, galleys, room service staff, and crew-training facilities, are all purring efficiently, keeping everything ship-shape, just for you.

It is here in the wee hours of the morn that a half-dozen or so pastry chefs are knocking out thousands of rolls, croissants, brioches, muffins, donuts, Danishes, and even gluten-free breads for breakfast alone, while the crew in the laundry are washing and pressing thousands of napkins and tablecloths daily.  And the housekeeping staff are loading their carts with thousands of freshly laundered towels and getting ready to pounce like Ninjas to clean your suite after you have left for an excursion, and, of course, to replenish Nespresso pods and the L’Occitane Mer & Mistral line of toiletries in your marble-clad bath.

Multiple traffic cops and computer systems are in place to keep this human “appliance” waltzing smoothly, so that the many galleys are never bereft of, say, soy milk. During a typical seven-day cruise, more than 500 gallons of milk alone are consumed. In fact, on a galley tour, if you snoop around the refrigeration units, you’ll see they are filled with regular milk, heavy cream, half-and-half, 1% and 2% skimmed milk, regular skimmed milk, as well as almond and rice milks—maybe even a cow secreted away in the fridge.  On a typical seven-day cruise, the 82 galley chefs might blitz through 900 dozen eggs, 800 pounds of butter, 600 pounds of lobster, 700 pounds of cheese…and guests will consume 4,800 bottles of wine and nearly 1,000 bottles of Champagne!

Another fascinating aspect of the galley—and throughout the ship, in fact–is the separation of trash. Mindful of global ecology, Regent is striving to cease supplying guests with single-use plastics and in an effort to cut down on paper waste, the company has shifted paperwork to digital formats. In the galley, trash is scrupulously segregated:  Pulpable waste, shells and bones, plastic, cans, paper, non-pulpables, and so on, all have their own receptacles. And don’t think for a minute that the refuse you drop into your cabin garbage bin isn’t sorted.  Batteries, razor blades, plastics, are all separated.

But all these numbers and policies mean nothing, unless the services behind those facts and figures are delivered with a smile and style.  And, that they are. Regent is holistic in its approach to training staff and maintains a school in the Philippines, as well as a teaching facility on board. What is most important to the company, however, is to hire people who comprehend that they are the public ambassadors of the brand and its philosophy. Regent is committed to its mantra of serving guests with the utmost care, always remembering that they are the face of the company, and that the attention they give to details—anticipating and exceeding guests’ expectations—is Regent’s “normal.”  The crew, from nearly 50 countries—be it Kyrgyzstan or Mauritius—must love their jobs, as they repeatedly return to work on a Regent vessel.  Many have worked for the company a very long time, including Theodora, an employee in Prime 7 (the on-board steak house), who has been a Regent employee for more than 25 years.

You may well find that after your first Regent journey, you become just as regular a Regent devotee as its longtime employees and other guests. Bon voyage!

Regent’s six ocean-going vessels sail all year long, to seven continents, to more than 100   countries and 350 ports of call; more than 2,000 complimentary excursions are offered.  Average pricing for most Regent cruises starts at approximately $3,999 per person.

Additional Info: rssc.com

What Else is Cooking?

In between lazing about, eating, attending enrichment lectures, and heading shoreside for excursions, you will definitely want to save two hours for at least one of Explorer‘s Culinary Arts classes—assuming you can snag a place for these waiting-list-is-the-norm cooking classes. These hands-on, instruction-filled lessons were designed to enhance guests’ appreciation and understanding of a local port’s culture, history, and, of course, singular culinary profile. Taught in a state-of-the-art kitchen-classroom (deck 11, starboard, with sweeping, floor-to-ceiling window views), each student’s station is equipped with an induction cook stove, stainless steel sink, and quartzite work counter.  The program was designed by executive chef Kathryn Kelly, a graduate of and former instructor at the Culinary Institute of America. She first joined sister cruise line Oceania in 2011, when that company launched a highly successful seafaring cooking school on its Marina vessel. Regent’s classes include basics for those interested in things like knife skills, but the program excels at truly innovative, interesting classes, focused on ports of call…such as Epicurean Safari, which highlights delicious cuisine from Morocco, South Africa, and Namibia.  — RJK

© 2024 Ruth J. Katz   All Rights Reserved

The post Regent Seven Seas Cruises appeared first on Traveling Archive.

This T-Boy writers’ poll is devoted to THE LAST PLACE in the world where you would NEVER want to visit, or revisit. The instructions were simple: it could be a nation, state, region or province, a city or town, or a place; like that fisherman’s bar in Valparaiso, where I was once thrown out of for singing the Sex Pistols’ rendition of God Save the Queen a tad too loud.

By Susan Breslow, T-Boy Writer – The Garden of Earthly Delights? Hell, no!

A travel guide to Myrtle Beach could save on photography costs by simply featuring the hellscape from the Garden of Earthly Delights on its cover to represent the destination. Hieronymous Bosch’s sixteenth-century vision of Hades is a portrait of chaos, gluttony, porcine characters, hideous body modifications, and antagonistic flags. Myrtle Beach features all of these… plus miniature golf and a beach whose water turns polluted brown after storms.

We drove into this redneck Riviera hotspot from the south, coming up from sedate Charleston. We had no way of knowing that it was Bike Week (held every May, it turns out). Harley-Davidson owners decked out in black leather with silver studs and their similarly appointed, slutty-looking molls (even those old enough to know better) preened along the main drag beside thousands upon thousands of shiny parked hogs.

Behind them, a maelstrom of marquees for bars and fast-food joints where “fried” is the daily plat du jour. These troughs stand alongside souvenir shops where skeevy-looking, gray-bearded riders of both sexes have no problem buying and wearing black T-shirts that boast, “Born to be Wild.”

Had enough of this American Grotesquerie? Myrtle Beach: For a good time, drive on by.

By Richard Carroll, T-Boy Writer – The MV Sundancer, on Alaska’s Inside Passage

I was on a cruise with my mom and I booked the MV Sundancer to Alaska’s inside passage and upon reaching the Seymour Narrows, it sank. This specific cruise is the last place I would want to return too. It was June 29, 1984, and at 8:30 p.m. I was in the main lounge interviewing a crew member while a small band was performing show songs to a few of the 787 passengers sitting about enjoying the moment, when suddenly there was a heavy jolting thug that vibrated the ship. The band instantly stopped playing, and the ship seemed to be quietly floating dead in the water, then another whack and the lights went out, fluttering dimly and the smell of oil permeating the air. The Canadian Pilot had miscalculated our position and the Sundancer had slammed twice into Maud Island near Campbell River, an attractive town with wonderful residents.

The ship was quickly taking on water from a 32-foot gash on the starboard side. I rushed to my cabin where my mother was getting ready to retire. I said, “Mom, we have a problem, and you need to get dressed and put on a life jacket.” Water was seeping into our cabin, and it seemed like it took mom forever to get dressed, I could hear people running in the corridor and shouting. I said, “Forget the panty hose,” which was a tremendously slow process with only one foot in place, “Just slip on a dress, we have to get up to the top deck ASAP.” Finally, we departed the cabin and made our way up the dark stairway, sloshing through sea water, past panicked passengers, some who were frantically crying, to the top deck that was tilted to a sharp downward slant.

Garbled messages from the captain were useless as were the lifeboats that were banging against the side of the ship. The Sundancer made it to the Elk Falls Mill pier at Campbell River with almost complete chaos on the ship. It seemed, and not a generalization, that most of the young passengers panicked, while the older ones were calm and quietly standing on deck with their life jackets. A young couple on their honeymoon were hovering near the railing, when the husband hopped atop the rail facing the water yelling “I’m not going down with the ship!” My mom grabbed his shirt shouting, “Get down from there young man!” His wife was aghast. She was looking at him in disbelief and must have been thinking, “Is this what I just married?”

Campbell River, noted as “The Salmon Capital of the World,” was incredible in organizing a Cherry Picker to host off the elderly passengers like my mom, and were a great help overall. The ship had destroyed most of the pier, and, not by choice, I was the last passenger off the ship climbing down a rope ladder into a tug boat with a young boy from Puerto Rico who had become separated from his parents. As he clutched my arm, he told me he didn’t know how to swim. On land at the Red Cross Help Center, the Campbell River people gave the passengers clothes, blankets, hot drinks, good thoughts, and thankful that no one on the cruise died. The young man who wanted to jump ship and leave his new wife behind was strolling around shirtless sipping a cup of coffee, his distressed wife staring at him with sad eyes. Mom came up to her and with a big hug said, “Honey, give him a chance, maybe he’ll be okay.” We flew back to Southern California with no luggage. Years later I discovered my late mother’s collection of matchbooks and spotted the Sundancer souvenir from her first and only cruise, a memento I keep on my desk to this day. Inside she had inscribed, “Went on cruise with Richard. Ship sunk.”

By Peggy Polinsky, T-Boy Writer – Chaos at Versailles

Yes, chaos at Versailles, in this day and age. Unfortunately. So sad. When I first visited Versailles in 1965 with two friends (we had just graduated from college), there was an orderly line to enter the castle. Then we just walked around and saw everything under the guidance of our friend who became a successful travel agent. It was a beautiful, memorable experience. And then we visited the gardens as well – just strolling through.

The next time I went was in 2019 with my husband. We signed up for a tour. Connecting to the tour was frantic. Upon entering the palace, we discovered that there were hundreds of tours with thousands of tourists. There were so many people that the only time you could really see anything was if you looked up. But, although beautiful, not everything is on the ceiling.

And it was so loud. So, we made it through and got outside where we could see the outstanding gardens at a distance. We knew we couldn’t walk that far. No one had told us about the trams that will take you through the gardens. By then it was too late in the day. So, we made it back to the train and then the bus that took us back to our hotel. Determined not to ever do that again.

By Raoul Pascual, T-Boy Webmaster – The Horror Stories of Iran

I would never ever want to visit Iran. Because of the horror stories of head chopping and degradation of women and infidels, this is the country I would avoid at all cost (unless I want to leave this earth prematurely). It’s a Hotel California trap – you may enter any time you want but you will never leave… at least with your organs in one piece.

The Ayatollah Khomeini

“Ayatollah Ruhollah Musavi Khomeini, (May 1900 or September 1902 -June 1989) was an Iranian Islamic revolutionary, politician, and religious leader who served as the first supreme leader of Iran from 1979 until his death in 1989. He was the founder of the Islamic Republic of Iran and the leader of the Iranian Revolution, which overthrew Mohammad Reza Pahlavi and ended the Iranian monarchy.

Khomeini was Time magazine’s Man of the Year in 1979, and has been described as the “virtual face of Shia Islam in Western popular culture,” where he was known for his support of the hostage takers during the Iran hostage crisis, his fatwa calling for the murder of British Indian novelist Salman Rushdie, and for referring to the United States as the “Great Satan” and the Soviet Union as the “Lesser Satan.” Following the Islamic revolution, Khomeini became the country’s first supreme leader, a position created in the constitution of the Islamic Republic as the highest-ranking political and religious authority of the nation, which he held until his death. Most of his period in power was taken up by the Iran-Iraq War of 1980-1988. He was succeeded by Ali Khamenei on 4 June 1989.” – From Wikipedia.

Muslin Woman in the U.S. Today

Comment by Ed Boitano: Recently I met with a Muslim woman from Tehran, who spoke of her dislike of American liberals. I began to understand that her disdain stemmed from American liberals’ support of Iran’s Holy Muslim Quran, and that it was none of our business what goes inside of their country.

As the Muslim woman from Tehran continued with her tirade, she wished that U.S. liberals and conservatives alike would bond together and try to abolish many of the words in the Iranian Constitution, whose language, based on the Quran, spoke of misogyny, inequality and abuse of human rights. And whose words led to a state sponsored theocracy, the exacty opposite of what many of us in the U.S. pretend not to believe today.

By Ringo Boitano, T-Boy Writer – Hoodwinked in Daufuskie

As our little ferry boat graced the salt marshes of Hilton Head Island, surrounded by a world of sea grass in South Carolina’s Low Country, we were on our way to the island of Daufuskie Island in search of Gullah history. The ferry ride served as our introduction to our tour vendor, Tour Daufuskie. Little did we know that this very ferry ride would be the high point of our tour.

I recall the words on Tour Daufuskie’s welcoming sign, but noticed another on the ferry dock landing, which said, “No food Allowed.” But, before I booked my tour with Tour Daufuskie, I should have remembered the sacred verbal sign, which is known to all travelers as they journey throughout the world’s land: “Investigate Tour Operator Before Booking.”

My photographer and I were escorted by a Tour Daufuskie employee to a row of golf carts by a general store. His scripted remarks included “If you want any food you better get it here, ’cause this store is the only place on the island you can get it” (later we found an independent grocery in the island’s center), and “this is our BEST golf cart on the island… I know ’cause I just rode it!”

As we rode the BEST golf cart on the island, we were more than happy to leave the Tour Daufuskie man; and, with map in-hand of historic Gullah sites, we excitedly navigated our golf cart down the dusty dirt road in search of the past culture of these remarkable people who had once called Daufuskie their home. But our excitement was tempered, due to our golf cart, lumbering along at half speed. We returned it to the less-than-embarrassed Tour Daufuskie slicker, who offered no explanation, and were given another, which broke down ten minutes later. This time, a more qualified man arrived at the spot of our breakdown, and said we should have never have been assigned the first two carts and gave us another that actually worked.

But, first, a little about the Gullah; after all, that was why we were there. Research told me that slave traders brought Africans from Sierra Leone to the chain of Sea Islands for their expertise in planting, harvesting and processing rice. During the 1700s, American colonists in the Southeastern U.S. realized that rice would grow well in the moist, semitropical country bordering their coastline. But the American white plantation slave owners had no experience in the cultivation of rice, so they purchased slaves with a preference for Africans from the “Rice Coast” or “Windward Coast,” the traditional rice-growing region of West Africa. The enslaved people became known as the Gullah (Gul-luh), perhaps derived from Gola, a tribe found near the border of Liberia and Sierra Leone. Daufuskie itself: translated to “pointed feather,” a name attributed to island’s earliest inhabitants, the tribes of Muskogean stock.

I read that when the U.S. Civil War commenced, white slave owners hurriedly abandoned their plantations and slaves, and fled to the mainland, while some Gullah were actually unaware of the war and their eventual freedom from slavery had finally ended. Due to this isolation, the Gullah were able to preserve more of their African cultural heritage than any other group of African-Americans. They spoke a unique Creole language and maintained a life similar to that of Sierra Leone. I was anxious to meet a Gullah person and hear their unique language in conversation, and, who knows, maybe even a bit of folklore.

So, we were now officially off on our expedition in search of the Gullah, though it did take awhile. The map turned out to be fairly accurate leading us to the First Union African Baptist Church, listed as a historical landmark, followed by Maryfield School (circa 1930), the primary school for the Gullah children. This is the school where author Pat Conroy taught in the late 1960s, later documenting his experience in the novel, “The Water is Wide.” Transportation only began in 1950, so the children must have had a long walk in the woods, in particular with long walks without shoes. The small Billie Burn Historical Museum was next on our agenda, with Ms. Burn considered the first true Daufuskie historian, having documented life on the island’s past in her book, An Island Named Daufuskie.

The afternoon closed, after quick looks at the Maryfield Cemetery, the largest Gullah cemetery on the island. As we returned to the petite ferry, it was obvious that we had been misled and even lied to by Tour Daufuskie employees. Nevertheless, we were happy to see and learn all we did. But, were still annoyed that we had been taken advantage of, and wondered why such a company like Tour Daufuskie could even exist. It occurred to me that South Carolina is one of the least regulated states in the U.S., a state where the establishment of forming workers’ unions was once illegal. Curiously, the Sea Islands were the first place in the South where slaves were freed. And it made no sense to my Yankee mindset, for at the beginning of the U.S. Civil War, 96% of the population of South Carolina were African-Americans who wore the chains of slavery.

But the experience did serve as a life lesson, a lesson I had ignored; never book a tour with a vendor until you’ve thoroughly, independently, researched them and the specific tour. If not, there is a chance you might be disappointed. In conversation with others on the ferry ride back, it became clear not one of them had even a hint about the culture, let alone the existence of these proud and historic people, the proud and historic people simply known as the Gullah of Daufuskie Island.

By Fyllis Hockman, T-Boy Writer – The Most Difficult Trek We Had Ever Experienced

The eight of us huddled together, warned repeatedly to stay close and keep quiet. A soft cough escaped from one of our group, and the guide looked immediately askance. Coughing and sneezing were very much frowned upon. If you’re scraped by a stinging nettle, don’t even think about screaming – a usually fitting response. Sharing 98.4 percent of our DNA, the elusive mountain gorillas – whom we were seeking at the time – are very susceptible to human-borne illnesses and more gorillas die from such infectious diseases than from any other cause. We were carriers and they had to be protected from us. And this was before the pandemic!

Still, eight humans a day are allowed to visit these gentle giants, as they are known, for no longer than an hour, as we did during a recent visit to Uganda as part of an ElderTreks tour.

This is not exactly a drive-by photo op. With a vigorous (to say the least) trek of 1-7 hours, depending upon where the gorillas are that day, you have to REALLY want to see them. But even with visitation restricted to an hour, it is usually well worth the effort. But more on that later.

There are about 880 mountain gorillas in the world with almost half located in Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, a World Heritage Site clearly worthy of its name, in southwestern Uganda, an 18% increase over the last census due to increased conservation efforts, education and veterinary care. This is very good news.

The prelude to the hike is itself intimidating. Treks range from 1-7 hours according to the promotional material, with a maximum increase in elevation of 500 meters. Wear good hiking boots, don gloves for the nettles, a walking stick is mandatory, bring lots of water, don’t get closer than 25 feet – and remember these are wild animals.

Anticipation mixed closely with apprehension as every person on our tour, whether expressed aloud or not, felt “I hope I can make.” The tale I’m about to tell about my travel-writing husband Vic and myself is not the norm. The tale for the other eight members of our Elder Treks tour, from whom we were separated because of the limit of eight people to a gorilla trekking group, is the opposite extreme – also not the norm.

Boy, were we ever wrong. The trek was somewhat strenuous from the beginning, with steep climbs and slippery descents, traversing narrow ravines, but we were holding our own, feeling pretty good about ourselves. Until we entered the forest. And there was no semblance of a trail at all. The guides were trail-blazing with the help of machetes deep into the clearly “impenetrable” woods, the rocks, roots and brambles beneath our feet not even visible because of the thick underbrush. With walking stick in one hand and the porter’s hand in the other, I tried valiantly to move forward though at times the porter was literally dragging me up the precipitous slopes or keeping me from sliding down sheer declines, twigs and vines attacking from both sides of the non-trail, entangling my feet and arms to further impede progress in either direction. At times, I thought either my arm would be pulled off by the porter or my legs by the vines.

All the while, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for thinking to myself how little at that point I cared about the gorillas and how much I was worried about surviving the grueling trip back. I was seriously considering becoming a modern-day, Dian Fossey and staying with the gorillas, assuming we ever reached them, just to avoid the return trip.

I wish we could say the trip was worth it but by the time we finally dragged ourselves – or more appropriately – were dragged by the porters to the designated area where the gorillas had been, they had left. This is just not what you want to hear after what most of us on the trek agreed was the most difficult thing we had ever experienced.

By James Boitano, T-Boy Writer – Athens’ “Ammonia Square”

Athens, It’s not a terrible place: it’s just not at all that remarkable. It’s a big gritty working city that happens to have become the capital of Greece by default in their Ottoman wars of independence. I remember as breathing in all the auto fumes trying to catch a taxi on Omonia Square, we jokingly called it, “Ammonia Square.” Athens is a busy and charmless city which I rate as the most overrated capital city in Europe. There are many more lovely places to visit in Greece. But I will say it its defense: the view of the Acropolis rising above the city is its finest feature. But I never need to go back after seeing it once.

By Ed Boitano, T-Boy Editor – Beneath the Surface of Coeur d’Alene

The French name Coeur d’Alene when translated into English means, “Heart of an Awl.” Once, when I was traversing the pleasant small city streets, I remembered what “Coeur” meant, but had never heard of such a thing as an “Awl” before. Later I learned, it is a thin, tapered metal shaft, coming to a sharp point.

But then yesterday it hit me, and it hit me sharply to my core; when I read that on March 28, 2024, a Utah women’s college basketball team was seen strolling down Coeur d’Alene’s sidewalks from their sponsored NCAA Tournament hotel. They were there for fun, food and relaxation, in preparation for a NCAA Tournament game to be played later in Spokane, WA. A few passing cars packed with locals shouted obscenities at the University of Utah’s Women’s Basketball Team. But it’s not unusual for a city to mock a visiting team, but was there something more below Coeur d’Alene’s emotional surface? And then, local and national news broadcasts said that it was truly something much more.

SPOKANE, Wash. (AP) – “On Thursday, the Utah team and another women’s team staying at the Coeur d’Alene Resort were walking to dinner at a restaurant on Sherman Avenue when the driver of a truck displaying a confederate flag began yelling the N-word and other racial slurs at members of the basketball teams, cheerleaders, the band and others in the traveling party.”

Utah head coach Lynne Roberts said, “Her team experienced a series of hate crimes after arriving at its first NCAA Tournament hotel in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.”

“For our players and staff to not feel safe in an NCAA Tournament environment, it’s messed up,” continued coach Roberts.

“It’s getting to the point where people of color can’t even travel anywhere,” Spokane NAACP President Lisa Gardner said. “This is starting to be reminiscent of the ‘ 60s.”

And it really did become something much more worse than I had thought…

“Officials in Idaho tried to apologize Tuesday for the racism the University of Utah’s women’s basketball team faced in Coeur d’Alene before an NCAA tournament game at Gonzaga.

Yes, but: “Right-wing disruption shuts down Idaho’s apology for racism targeting Utah during NCAA tourney.” – Axios Salt Lake City.

And, the reason: “They abruptly shut down the news conference when a far-right operative began shouting questions at a human rights advocate.”

Why it matters: “Northern Idaho has become a hub for right-wing extremist groups.”

The latest: “Investigators in Coeur d’Alene are working with the FBI to determine which, if any, criminal violations occurred,” Hammond and police chief Lee White said at the Tuesday news conference. Idaho law forbids “malicious harassment.”

The Ridiculous and the Sad

Coeur d’Alene, like Idaho, is renowned for its recreational components where one can hike, bike and even ski right out your door. But it also has a long history of hate groups, white nationalists and exclusiveness, where realtors often market their properties for “likeminded”‘ transplants who can no longer bear to live a life in urban centers, such as San Francisco, Portland and Seattle. And security is essential, particularly in some cities and towns, for many properties are marketed as “bunker homes.” But, what for: THE pending doom of the Apocalypse? OR Muslim terrorists’ attacks? OR Martian invasions? OR you and me who happen to live in an urban centers outside of the state? I’m still not sure why, but did notice on my last trip to Idaho, that locals, often transplants, are fond of echoing Fox News talking points via Trump News Social, such as “Liberal urban elitists.” I was happy, though, that “Cappuccino Liberal” didn’t seem to work out, for it’s still my favorite coffee beverage wherever I’m about.

Will I ever revisit Coeur d’Alene and Idaho again? My reply is, perhaps not.

Sun Valley Resort: America’s First Destination Ski Resort

I should close and say, none of this applies to Sun Valley Resort, located in the adjacent city of Ketchum. The resort is well-known as a tower for tolerance and acceptance, where many of its employees are guest workers from foreign lands, with the intention for all of us to understand the many different cultures in the world in which we live today.

And if the liberal patriot Hemingway chose to live there, how bad could it really be.

The post The Last Place in the World Where I Would EVER Want to Visit or Revisit Again appeared first on Traveling Archive.

I am planning a trip to Amsterdam. My plan is to purchase Dutch products for gifts. I have an hour or two at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport for a layover. I noticed in the past there were tulip bulbs for sale, which I thought would make a perfect gift for friends and families. But I’d heard that they are not of the highest quality and sometimes don’t even grow. What is the best place in Holland to purchase the bulbs?
— Linda of Vancouver, Washington

Dear Linda –

Schiphol generally tops the list for the world’s best airport shopping, in particular for chocolates, Stroopwafle, Dutch Genever Gin, Gouda and Edam cheeses, Delft Pottery – but definitely not tulip bulbs, often old and difficult to grow.

The most well-known flower bulb ‘sanctuaries’ in the Netherlands can be found in the region south of Amsterdam, in the uppermost part of the province of North Holland, and in a section of the province of Frevoland.

Linda, will you be visiting Holland in spring? If so, make sure to put Keukenhof Gardens on your list; you’ll be surrounded by a kaleidescape of blooming Dutch tulips at the most famous and largest flower park in the world. Keukenhof’s spectacle of 320,0000 square meters of flowers is a short and easy drive from Amsterdam, and it is essential to plan your visit in advance. AND YES, this is the place to purchase tulip bulbs.

Tulips grow best in maritime areas, preferably not further away than 30-50 miles from the coast. In the Netherlands the area most like this is near the North Sea. The best types of soil are the sandy-clay grounds in the provinces of South and North Holland, Flevoland and the Noordoostpolder. In particular, the maritime climate and the vicinity of water are optimum conditions for growing tulips. I noticed that you live in Vancouver, Western Washington State, which is close to the Skagit Valley. Once a year there is the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival, which should prove to be an easy location to access the bulbs when not visiting the Nethlerlands.

Dear Dutch-American –

Why are there so many bicyclists in the Netherlands when the nation has public transit, automobiles, trucks and buses?
— Barry of Omaha, Nebraska

Dear Barry –

The Dutch can afford automobiles, but the price of petrol is over $9/gallon. City fathers have made parking cars in town centers highly expensive, making it much more affordable to simply pedal into the cities. Plus, over 26% of the Netherlands is under sea level, and for centuries the Dutch have battled against the ocean water with a system of polders, dykes and weirs. This has created a stunning and unique flat as a pannekoeken (pancake) landscape of reclaimed land across the country, ideal for bicycling. As one of the world’s most forward thinking democracies, Dutch citizens are highly educated, aware that unregulated fossil fuel could not only damage their health, but also the life of our own planet. I’ve noticed that many Dutch people find it perplexing that ignorant far-right Americans consider monetary profiteering more important than the health of their own children. Please note: When strolling through a popular tourist destination, it is the bicyclist who have the right aways on the pathways — so keep your wits about you and be quick on your feet.

Dear Dutch-American –

My time in Amsterdam is far too limited to see all that needs to be seen. What is your pick for the city’s best museum?
— Wendy of Portland, Maine

Dear Wendy –

This is a win-win situation. You really can’t go wrong.

MUSEUM SQUARE is a brief tram ride from Amsterdam’s city center, home to the RIJKSMUSEUM, which includes the works of Rembrandt and Vermeer.

The VAN GOGH MUSEUM is short walk away, and contains the world’s largest collection of paintings and drawings by the artist.

JOODS HISTORIC MUSEUM consists of four adjoining synagogues, linked by internal walkways to form one large museum. The synagogues were central to Jewish life until WWII, and were restored in the 1980s. Most Dutch tourist who visit the museum today are not Jewish, and consider the museum a part of their own history, as well.

ZUIDERZEE MUSEUM in Enkhuizen, an hour away from Amsterdam by train, recreates local Dutch village life throughout history.

“You can always give something, even if it is only kindness.” – Anne Frank.

ANNE FRANK HOUSE & ADJOINING MUSEUM: During World War II, over 103,000 Europeans of Jewish ancestry were deported from the Netherlands to Nazi concentration camps. The most famous was a 13-year-old German girl named Annelies Marie “Anne” Frank. In 1942, the Frank and van Pels families went into hiding in the secret upstair’s annex of a canal building in Amsterdam. For two years, Anne worked on her diary, giving an account of growing up during one of the most inhumane periods of modern history. She made her last entry three days before being arrested. Anne and her older sister Margot died of typhus in Bergen-Belsen in March 1945, only a few weeks before the concentration camp was liberated. The heroic Amsterdamer, Miep Gies, who had helped to hide and feed the Frank and van Pels families at the risk of her own life, found Anne’s manuscripts and gave them to Otto Frank, Anne’s father, the only family member who had survived the concentration camps. With the utmost respect for the privacy of the Frank family, Ms. Gies never once opened the manuscript. In 1947 the first Dutch edition of the diary, “Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl” appeared. Since then the diary has been published in more than 55 languages. Anne’s hiding place is the most visited site in the Netherlands. Today you can retrace her steps where she entered the secret annex hidden behind the bookcase.

Meet our Dutch-American: Deb Roskamp

This installment of our advice column comes to you from T-Boy photographer Deb Roskamp, a first generation Dutch-American, whose ancestral home hails from Andijk in the province of North Holland, the place of her mother’s birth

Readers, feel free to ask our staff any questions regarding their ancestral homeland of your choice at ed****@tr**********.com . T-Boy has an illustrious team of writers ranging from British-Americans, Chinese-Americans, Nigerian-Americans, Norwegian-Americans, and more, who have an acute understanding of their ancestral homeland.

The post Dear Dutch-American by Deb Roskamp appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Dear Manhattan-American:

I am planning a trip to New York in June. I have not visited it for 40 or so years. Friends have informed me that Manhattan is now very gentrified and has lost its edge, and I should concentrate on Brooklyn. What is your take on this?

—  Nancy from Denver, CO

Dear Nancy:

Brooklyn, ugh. Isn’t that the place where people who can’t find an apartment to rent in Manhattan decamp to? There is nothing in that borough that is better than in Manhattan. So go ahead, walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, take in the view, and immediately turn back.

P.S. If you haven’t visited in 40 years, no doubt you have lost your edge as well.

Death Manhattan-American:

I am from Oregon and very proud of my Irish ancestry. I believe the name ‘Paddy Wagon’ stems from New York. Is the name a slur, something that I should take offense?

— Declan Fallihee of Portland, Oregon 

Dear Declan:

Prisoner vans were called paddy wagons because back in the day the police force primarily comprised Irishmen. If you are seeking things to take offense about, there are a great many more that ought to get your Irish up.

Dear Manhattan-American:

I am an ABC (American Born Chinese) married to a Euro-American male. We’ve never been to NYC before. We have two weeks for our vacation, and I want to explore every inch of Manhattan. The problem is that my husband is terrified to visit Harlem in fear that he will stand out. Is there anything I can say that will alleviate his concern? He is not a racist, just worried.

— Suzy Chang-Larkin, Kansas City

Dear Suzy:

For my entire adult life I have lived in Manhattan. I have never been to Harlem. I believe they have three attractions: Sylvia’s and Red Rooster restaurants and the Apollo Theater. I would be more concerned about traveling to Harlem via our dirty, rat-infested, homeless-sheltering subways than by being in Harlem. Take an Uber, cab, or bus there and back and both you and your husband should be fine.

Meet our Manhattan-American: Susan Breslow

This installment of our advice column comes from Susan Breslow, the Web’s foremost expert on romantic travel. In fact, she breaks out in hives when the words “family travel” are mentioned. A widely published travel journalist, Susan’s assignments have led her from Alaska to Zimbabwe. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Condé Nast Traveler, Departures, National Geographic, and other major magazines and she is the author of Destination Weddings For Dummies and I Really Want a Dog. She served as president of the New York Travel Writers Association and is a member of the Society of American Travel Writers Editors’ Council. As the former marketing director of New York Magazine, she originated the highly successful “City Weddings and Honeymoons” section, which was spun off into the freestanding New York Weddings magazine. Susan holds a Master’s Degree in Journalism and a B.A. in English and studied Multimedia Technology at New York University.

Read more about Susan.

See the list of Susan’s articles here.

Readers,

Feel free to direct any question of your choice to our advice team at **@tr**********.com . T-Boy has an illustrious team of writers with an acute understanding of their ancestral homeland.

The post Dear Manhattan-American by Susan Breslow appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The Latest T-Boy Film, Travel & Music poll is devoted to a positive cultural experience when visiting a new destination. Below you’ll find orignial content not found anywhere else on the globe by Richard Carroll, Audrey Hart, Ringo Boitano, Deb Roskamp and even two by yours truly. I hope you enjoy the entries as much as I enjoyed its compilation. – Ed

Richard Carroll: T-Boy Writer

Tango Culture: Buenos Aires

Traveling the world like so many others, I never believed that a city and it’s music would have the greatest culture impact. A musical magic that quickly captured me. Buenos Aires seems to float on a tango C chord, the wave lengths drifting through the city leaving a rhythm touching the heart. A dramatic, sensuous, feel-good rhythm, where some of the most gorgeous women in the world are moving their feet to a music that is the essence of Buenos Aires. The city, near the bottom of South America, is where tango was born in the America’s, and it’s alive and thriving. Walking through the neighborhoods one is greeted by tango, and often couples dancing tango in a sensuous and precise sway that is mesmerizing, where legs and feet are as precise as a jeweled Swiss clock. The city has tango boutiques, tango hotels for visitors in love with the art, tango night clubs, tango schools, and best of all a large downtown dance hall where the portenos go to dance after a long days work. You see street workers, fashionable ladies with a briefcase, and other portenos, all filing into the dance hall. The men on one side of the room, the ladies on the other, They dance tango with various partners for an hour or so and head for home, each going their separate way. Not a place to meet your lifetime lover. It’s just a place for the portenos to dance tango. Tango in Buenos Aires is the culture of the city and the magic is for both visitors and portenos alike.

Audrey Hart: T-Boy Food Writer

Chimichanga Culture: Tucson, AZ

No city is more associated with the Chimichanga than Tucson. The city’s tourism office published an ad in the nationally circulated Food & Wine magazine, inviting Americans to visit Tucson, “home of the chimichanga.”

Chimichanga, or “chimi,” has achieved cult-like status in Tucson where residents take their chimis very seriously and prefer large, overstuffed versions. Every restaurant and eatery have its own version of this favorite dish. But many consider El Charro Café’s the best and most authentic. – Source: Food Timeline.
Family legend says that owner Monica Flin in 1928 accidentally dropped a stuffed beef burrito in a pot of boiling oil. She immediately shouted some profane expletives, but noticed younger family members in the kitchen, and abruptly changed the swear word to “chimichanga,” the Spanish equivalent of “thingamagig.” Tucson was awarded the nation’s first UNESCO City of Gastronomy Designation, and Gourmet Magazine named El Charro Café, “One of America’s 21 Most Legendary Restaurants.”

See El Charro Café’s Chimichanga Recipe here.

Ringo Boitano: T-Boy Writer

The Culture of Family: Tahiti and Her Islands

Our jeep commenced deep into the mountainous valley of Tahiti’s Papenoo; a true Garden of Eden with fertile displays of ginger, vanilla, taro, noni and breadfruit. The medicinal and cosmetic benefits of the pants and flowers are well utilized by the Tahitians, renowned for their health, physical beauty and spiritual serenity.

My guide was an Euro-Tahitian anthropologist, who has lived in Tahiti Nui his entire adult life. He explained the intricacies of Tahitian culture, where the past meets the present, and that the Gallic texture of today is often only evident on the surface. The French police keep the islands safe but will never enter a home when there’s a family dispute or even violence. Often times when a local commits an egregious crime, justice is handled the tribal way, where the offender might ‘accidentally’ fall from the top of a mountain or ‘mysteriously’ drown while fishing.

When a Tahitian woman reaches the age to give childbirth, she is encouraged to take as many lovers as she chooses. When an infant is born, the child is given to a group of older women, often aunts (slang, motu mamas) to be raised by the community in wide open mountain valleys. From my guide’s studies, he believes that Tahiti and Polynesia illustrate the most tolerant and sophisticated child rearing practices in the world; a world where the youth find meaning through relationships with the family, community, spatial terrain, ancestral spirits and God.

Ed Boitano: T-Boy Writer

The Culture of the Currach: Aran Islands

Due to their isolated location at the very edge of Ireland, the Aran Islands are naturally detached from the rest of the world and have maintained unique customs and ways of life for centuries. With a population of around 900 people, Inishmore (Inis Mór) is the largest of the Aran Islands, approximately eight miles-long by two and a half-miles wide. If you have just a day, this is the island you must see. Its principal village is Kilronan where you’ll find tour guides, horse drawn carriages and bicycle rentals waiting as soon as you get off your ferry. The Aran Islands’ relatively flat landscape makes an ideal setting for walkers of all levels, while the 30-minute bike ride from the pier to Dún Aonghasa is one of the most popular cycling routes in all of Ireland.

Before you depart on your tours, stop by Ionad Arann Heritage Centre, a three-minute walk from the village of Kilronan, an excellent visitor’s center, which provides a good introduction and guided tour taking you back more than two thousand years in the life and times of the Aran Islands.

The center demonstrates the art of currach making– a traditional island boat made by stretching a fabric over a sparse skeleton of thin wooden/wicker laths, then covered in tar. The currach has been used on the islands for centuries and is designed to battle the rough seas that face the open Atlantic Ocean. Documentary film director Robert Flaherty was fascinated to find that the Aran fishermen would not learn to swim, since they knew they could never survive any sea that swamped a currach, and would drown without a struggle. His filming of the dramatic shark-hunt – whose liver the islanders would boil to make lantern oil for trade – was a centerpiece of his staged documentary masterpiece, the 1934 film, Man of Aran.

Deb Roskamp: T-Boy Photographer

Fado Culture: Lisbon, Portugual

The fadista sang mournful tunes with lyrics of resignation, fate and melancholy; best defined by the Portuguese word saudade, (longing), symbolizing a feeling of irreparable loss and lifelong damage. Fado (‘destiny, fate’) is a melancholic genre whose birthplace is Lisbon’s port districts of Alfama, Mouraria and Bairro Alto in the 1820s. Initially, its musical style was performed in cafes, taverns and ‘half-door’ houses (bordellos) to sailors, bohemians, and courtesans who were mainly from the urban working-class.
Today, throughout the world, Fado is regarded as the Portuguese musical symbol of culture and tradition. The music is performed without any form of electric amplification by either a female or a male vocalist, and accompanying music, generally by guitars (10- or 12-string guitars), one or two violas (6-string guitars), and occasionally a viola baixo (a small 8-string bass viola). Most of the repertoire follows a double meter (four beats to a measure), with lyrics arranged in quatrains or in any of several other common Portuguese poetic forms.

I listened to the musicians while dining in a restaurant. The music took me back to imagining women singing these ballads to their sailors, as they set out to explore the world, disappearing beyond the horizon.

Raoul Pascual: T-Boy Webmaster and Illustrator

The Clean Culture of Japan

This country stands above all others in terms of selflessness. Something about the Japanese and upholding family honor. It was back in the 80s when I went to Tokyo, Nagoya and Kyoto for a business trip. For the most part, the streets were super clean (no trash anywhere… (not even a single cigarette butt), the people were hard working and disciplined. They said you could leave your luggage in the middle of the street and no one would steal it. They reminded me of worker ants with individual integrity functioning for the greater good of the hive.

Ed Boitano: T-Boy Writer

Irish Session Music: Doolin, Ireland

“What brings you to Ireland?” asked my friendly cab driver. “All the above and more, and with a very keen interest in Irish music,” laughed thee. The cabbie smiled, “You know, I sing too. Give me a couple pints of Guinness and I’ll sing all night fer yah.” My mood was already euphoric; now kicked up a step higher, well aware that a trip to the Republic of Ireland is a cultural immersion of living history, heartfelt poetry, ethereal landscapes and locals with hospitality in their very DNA. And, yes, I soon found my traditional Irish Session (‘seisiún’) bands, playing jigs (faster rhythms) and reels (stepdance music in ‘reel’ time), and an occasional ballad about the Great Famine and emigration.

Doolin (Dúlainn) is an Atlantic coastal village in County Clare, considered the home of traditional Irish session music. And the local attractions are not bad either, with the Cliffs of Moher, the Burren, and a port that leads to Aran Islands just around the corner. But what could top a Doolin pub meal washed down with a pint of the black stuff at one of the village’s rollicking establishments? Well, grab your next pint and bask in the intoxicating music of an Irish session band on the floor.

The size of the groups may vary, and members are sometimes new to one another, yet seemingly never missing a beat on the Bodhrán Drum. Traditional instruments generally included fiddle (the life blood of a session); harp; flute and whistle; Uilleann Pipes; guitar, mandolin and banjo; accordion and concertina, and the Bodhrán Drum. You’ll notice the Irish have the gift of the dance where evidence suggests that the sun worshipping Celts and the Druids practiced a circular formation pagan dance which has a commonality to the modern Irish set dancing of today. And, if you’re feeling particularly festive, you can join in on a dance; in my case, a rather clumsy and improvised one.

At a conversational break, a musician informed me that the Irish dancer once carried a heavy stone in both hands, preventing them from holding hands with the opposite sex. Then adding, “I’d probably need a shackle (Handcuff, carrying alcoholic beverages in both hands at the same time).” What could I say, besides Sláinte! (Pronounced: ‘slaan-sha’) and ordered another Guinness.

The post Cultural Impact when Traveling appeared first on Traveling Archive.

For travelers and tourists who smoke, this may make traveling a hassle. Our latest T-Boy Society of Film & Music poll revealed international destinations members want to visit and why, but it’s essential to be aware of smoking-related laws and rules in these places to avoid getting into trouble in your travels. While Madrid may be a dream destination, for example, it’s worth noting that Spain banned smoking in public places like its beaches — so plan your travels accordingly. In this post, we’ll look at how smokers can deal with cigarette bans where they travel:

Pack smokeless products

Besides health reasons, non-smokers don’t respond well to the smoke and odor of cigarettes, which is why smoking bans are enacted. By that logic, e-cigarettes and other cigarette alternatives, such as vapes and heated tobacco products, also often fall under the smoking ban. Instead, look at smokeless alternatives that can help reduce cravings to smoke while traveling.

New-generation smokeless products include nicotine pouches. The selection on Prilla includes pouches from Velo, Zyn, Rogue, and On! Nicotine pouches are tobacco-free and sold in various types, flavors, and nicotine strengths. They have also become more accessible through online express deliveries, making them a popular option for smokers seeking alternative nicotine products.

Other smokeless products you can bring are Nicorette nicotine gums. Nicotine gums are one of the oldest forms of alternative nicotine products. Like the pouches, they offer small doses of nicotine — available in 2mg or 4mg variants — for smokers looking to reduce their nicotine intake. Nicorette is also a widely accessible brand with products available through supermarkets, convenience stores, and online retail stores.

Swap smoking for snacks

Another way to replace the sensation of smoking while traveling would be snacking instead of smoking. Packing healthy snacks with you can help reduce cigarette cravings and keep your mouth busy. Simple snacks like air-popped popcorn are also low in calories, so you won’t have to worry about unhealthy weight gain. Recent research from the University of Florida also indicates that chemical compounds in roasted coffee beans can help lighten the effects of morning nicotine cravings.

Some people also snack on foods that make smoking taste worse, such as cheese, fruit, and vegetables. Crunchy vegetables, in particular, help keep your mouth distracted. On the other hand, some foods shouldn’t be your go-to to stay smoke-free on your travels. Meat and alcohol can make smoking more satisfying and thus may trigger your craving for cigarettes. In fact, alcohol consumption has long been associated with cigarette cravings, so try your best to reduce drinking while traveling.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t want to get in trouble with authorities in your travel destinations for smoking where you shouldn’t. Remember to do your due diligence by researching smoking laws when planning travel. And if you’re in doubt, ask around for designated smoking areas if you’re visiting a country that doesn’t wholly ban cigarette use. Otherwise, our tips above for staying smoke-free on your travels will help you relieve cravings while still enjoying your travel experience. For more travel tips, insights, and stories, you can visit our Traveling Boy archives.

The post Traveling as a Smoker: How to Deal with Cigarette Bans appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Dear Maria,

Yes, Magellan lost his head in the Philippine island of Mactan in 1521. Ferdinand Magellan (Fernando de Magallanes in Spanish) was actually born in Portugal (Fernao de Magalhaes) but his expedition was funded by Spanish investors when his own country rejected his exploration proposal. Whether he changed loyalty to Spain is not clear but the Philippines is named after King Philip of Spain.

Magellan’s story is one instance where the old adage “the victor gets to write history” rings true. The PBS History website and Spanish movies like “1898: Our Last Men in the Philippines” depict the Filipinos as uncivilized thankless primitives. From Western perspectives, the Spaniards were the cultured benefactors who came to save the Filipinos from their ignorance. From the Filipino’s viewpoint, the Spaniards were the oppressors. The Spanish monks sworn to celibacy were notorious to have families on the side.

Western literature does not explain how Magellan was killed but ask a Filipino and he can tell you that that Lapu Lapu, the local tribal chief, cut off Magellan’s head. It may be conjecture but in fairness, the PBS video stated that Lapu Lapu’s many tattoos proved he was a strong warrior (how did they know that?) — now that’s conjecture if you ask me.

There is a popular, humorous, clever song about “Magellan” composed by funny man, Yoyoy Villame. You can watch the video below but here’s fair warning that Yoyoy ‘s accent is so thick, you may have to read the captions to understand the lyrics.

Excerpt of the song as you might hear it:
“En March sixteen, Pipteen Hundred Twenty one, the Phelepeens was disco-bird by Magellan.
[In March 15, 1621, the Philippines was discovered by Magellan.]”

Magellan’s claim to fame: The first man to circumnavigate the world. But actually, Magellan, was already dead when the ship Victoria arrived at Seville, Spain on September 9, 1522. The real navigator who accomplished this feat and whose fame was stolen from him was Juan Sebastian de Elcano. Hard to believe that was 500 years ago.

Magellan is also credited to have discovered the Philippines. That’s an insult to the Filipinos whose ancestors had a functioning civilization before the Spaniards forced them into Catholicism. Magellan’s arrival prompted the colonization of the Philippines that lasted for 300 years and, sadly, instead of sharing the technology, the Spaniards kept the natives uneducated in order to hold on to their power. The Catholic missions did put up schools and it taught the local elites (ilustrados) Western culture. Sure enough. the ilustrados, with eyes opened, realized the oppression of their people and started a movement of unrest with their writings. This led to the Philippine Revolution in August 1896.

It seems like the Philippines is always getting the short end of the stick (maybe it’s because most Filipinos are so nice and genteel … an admirable character trait but easy prey to opportunistic bullies) because, when the Filipinos finally united to stop the abuse, they partnered with America who helped drive the Spaniards out. However, seeing the weakened state of the Philippine revolutionaries, the Americans decided to take the Philippines for itself. The United States turned the Philippines into one of its commonwealth countries. Unlike the Spaniards, Americans brought in the protestant brand of Christianity and tradition of educating the natives. They started the public school system. At one point, the Philippines boasted it had the highest per capita literacy in the world. Thanks to America everyone (not just the ilustrados) could get an education. This affiliation with America forced the Philippines’ involvement in the US-Japanese War. Countless lives were lost from the Japanese atrocities. But after the war, the Philippines became the economic envy of South East Asia — more advanced even than Japan in the late 50s. But politics, greed, and corruption creeped in … but that’s another story.

Final observations

There are Philippine statues, paintings, food products and even a fish named after the barbarian Lapu Lapu but there are none for Magellan. As to your question: is it safe for Spaniards to visit the Philippines? Of course it’s safe. Despite the bad blood between the 2 countries, today Filipinos can travel freely to Spain without a visa. Many Spaniards consider the Filipinos as their brothers. Today the remnants of the Spanish influence can be seen in the Filipino names, street names, words in the Filipino language and in many of the food. The mulatos (or lighter-skinned cross-bred children of the Spaniards) are considered to be so attractive that they are plucked to be actors and models regardless of their intelligence or talent. This is part of the colonial mentality deeply ingrained in the Filipino psyche.

Another testament to the kind and forgiving heart of the Filipinos: they have great relations with the Japanese (maybe they’re attracted to Japan’s affluence). In fact, the Japanese (ashamedly) seem to remember what their warring ancestors did to the Filipinos more than most Filipinos today. Japan has also donated greatly to boost the Philippine economy. — Pedro Panduko

Send in your questions

This installment of our advice column comes to you from our Filipino-American expert, Mr. Pedro Panduko (this is his pen name). Ask him anything about the Philippines and he will give his expert opinion. Ask about the food, the beaches, politics, history, the people, customs, superstitions, economy, etc. He can even share affordable travel ideas.

Meet our Filipino-American: Pedro Panduko

Pedro was born in Aklan, a South Eastern province of the Philippines. He speaks Tagalog, Visayan and English. He was studying in Metropolitan Manila when his family decided to move to California, USA in the 90s. He’s a typical hard-working Filipino who enjoys sports (especially basketball, boxing and football), food, cars and action movies. He currently is the quality controller of a medical marijuana plant. No, he doesn’t sample the product (at least that’s what he wants us to believe), but he sure knows how to grow the best ones. He loves his family and America. He and his wife immerse their smart and talented kids into the American culture.

The post Dear Filipino-American: Did Magellan Lose His Head? appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Dear Icelandic-American:

I love the colors of the Icelandic flag. They are so much like my own—the red, white, and blue of the United States of America. But this flag of Iceland also bears a striking resemblance to the flag of Norway. They are identical, except the blue and red parts are reversed. Is this a coincidence? Or did Norway copy Iceland? — Flabbergasted

Dear Flabbergasted (– or should I say Flaggerbasted?):

It is laudable for you to assume Iceland taking the lead. After all, they did invent democracy.

Their flag, however, is one of a series of Nordic cross flags. Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Finland use a similar style with their own unique colors. All but Finland’s pre-date Iceland’s.

The Icelandic flag was officially adopted in 1944, but it was used unofficially for several decades before that.

Its colors are symbolic. Blue stands for the mountains. White evokes snow and ice. Red represents Iceland’s volcanos.

June 17^th is Flag Day in Iceland. A perfect time to visit because the days are long, the flowers are in bloom, and the whales are Instagram-ready.

Stay for the summer solstice and you are guaranteed to find a groovy, if not pagan, kind of love. — Icelandic American

Dear Icelandic-American:

I know the Blue Lagoon is famous, but concerned if it’s 100% safe? I’ve seen photos with smoke, and wonder if it’s from the tectonic plates. — Brenda

Brenda, my concerned friend:

They say Iceland is a land of fire and ice. But, as I sense you intuit, it is also a landscape of smoke and mirrors.

Geothermal energy heats the seductive waters of Iceland’s Blue Lagoon. This heat, plus the aroma of sulfur, arouses the senses like an aphrodisiac.

Although Vikings believed this foggy lushness rising from the spa to be animal passion made flesh, it is just ordinary steam, the kind you can make yourself when you boil an egg. As for tectonic plates, I suggest you pour yourself a gin and tonic and remember that we pay professionals to deal with things such as geology and shifts in the earth’s crust. We go on vacation to clear our minds of this clutter. — Icelandic American

Meet our Icelandic-American: Kelly Hughes

Seattle-born Kelly Hughes has embraced his Icelandic heritage by writing for his local Icelandic Club newsletter, singing with an Icelandic Men’s Choir, leading a Viking History discussion group, and sharing his mother’s homemade “Vínarterta” at Scandinavian events. Today, he channels these Nordic impulses exclusively through Traveling Boy, preferring the intimate relationship between reader and sage.

Readers note:

Feel free to send questions about any form of travel that you like.  Please contact Ed****@Tr**********.com and you’ll receive a speedy reply. – EB

The post Dear Icelandic-American: Travel advice on Iceland appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Curated by Ed Boitano

——————

Dear Italian-American:

I am planning my first trip to Italy. I want to see Rome, Florence and Venice. I plan on arriving in Milan. Friends have told me to quickly bail out of Milan and use it as a place to head out to more historic places. Should I ignore the city and go on my way? — Susan of Portland, OR

Dear Susan:

If you are in search of ancient Roman roads and ruins or medieval cobblestone streets, Milan is not the place. As the Italian capital of fashion and commerce, Milan is the city of now. It’s simply fun to just sip a coffee at Piazza del Duomo and watch tall, fashion clad models rushing off to unknown destinations. Yes, Venice is the city of canals, but Milan still has a few at the Navigli District, a canal area that once connected Milan with Lake Maggiore. The innovative system of locks was designed by Leonardo Da Vinci in the late fifteenth century. One of the canals actually stopped directly in front of the Duomo di Milano, the world’s most brilliant cathedral, which took nearly centuries to complete. With 3,400 statues on the façade, plus 700 marble figures and 135 gargoyles, the pink hued Condoglian marbled Duomo holds the record for the most statues in the world. Back to Leonardo, the Renaissance man spent 17-years in Milan, where his fresco of The Last Supper is available for viewing at the Church of Santa Maria delle Grazie, but make sure to get your tickets in advance.

Climbing up the Duomo di Milano‘s stairs to its terraced rooftop is mandatory; you’ll see spectacular vistas of the city, the Lombardian countryside and the Swiss Alps, plus be surrounded by angels built on buttresses. Also, just a few yards away is La Scala, the world’s greatest opera house. There’s a chance that tickets might be available; but can be expensive and somewhat difficult to procure. For a glimpse of the opera house’s interior, you might consider booking a museum tour, where mine consisted of watching a pre-opera arrangement of lighting in the theatre and a trip to La Scala’s museum. Outside you can walk through the passageway just like Verdi, Toscanini and Maria Callas did when strolling to and from La Scala.

And a sampling of local cuisine will introduce you to new dishes, unique to Lombardy: Costolette di Vittelo (breaded Milanese veal), saffron infused Risotto and Osso buco alla Milanese.

And, Susan, remember Milan embodies la bellafigura: “ Behaving well and looking good doing it.” With me, they apparently made an exception. — The Italian-American 

Dear Italian-American:

I’m not an Italian rookie, seen much of the sites and want more. Scheduled for another jam-packed trip back – with no Covid – this summer. But never seen Bologna or Parma. Which one should I pick? — Stan of Ventura, California

Dear Stan:

A visit to Bologna or Parma qualifies as a win-win solution. Both cities are located in the region of Emilia-Romagna and are relatively close to one another; 54 miles with 38 trains per day. So, if possible, consider revising your packed schedule, and visit both. You’ll thank yourself, but your increasingly larger stomach may not.

Parma is smaller than Bologna, more laid back, almost in a countryside setting. The city is the birthplace of conductor Arturo Toscanini, his home now a museum, and film director Bernardo Bertolucci. I noticed that the T-Boy Society of Film & Music selected his 1970 political drama, The Conformist as his best movie. It is also the birthplace of Parmigiano-Reggiano, which contains only approved ingredients, then aged at least one-year, and Prosciutto di Parma, a licensed cured ham, made only from the hind legs of pigs, and aged during a dry-curing process. Moderna, nestled between Parma and Bologna on the south side of the Po Valley, is famous for its namesake Balsamic Vinegar of Modena.

Bologna is much larger than Parma. It’s a college town, flushed with students, featuring Università di Bologna, the first and oldest university in the world (circa 1158). Bologna is also Italy’s most educated and forward-thinking city, culturally regarded as the nation’s greatest liberal city. Often referred to as the city of learning, exemplified by its status as the world’s first city-state to abolish slavery. Stan, sure you understand when speaking of Italy as a nation, the unification of the city-states didn’t happen until 1840, where Italy is often noted as a young nation and an old country.

And then there’s the food. Bologna has long been considered the gastronomic capital of Italy. On the Bolognese table you might find Mortadella, Tagliatelle (made with eggs) al ragù, Tortellini and Lasagna. You may be surprised to find Lasagna and ragù heavier and more robust than its Italian-American counterparts.

And, Stan, remember that Bologna is called La Grassa (the fat one) for a reason. — The Italian-American

Dear Italian-American:

Often times when eating at Italian restaurants in America, I notice some people twirling spaghetti with a fork into a big spoon. When some see me only using a fork but still twirling, I receive almost an arrogant look. Am I doing it wrong? — Linda of Cleveland

Dear Linda:

On the contrary, you are using proper Italian table etiquette, while the others are not. In Italy using a fork to twirl ribbon or sting pasta in a spoon is just not done. If you do use a spoon in Italy, the arrogant looks might come from the staff or diners, well aware that you might be a clueless North American, devouring pasta incorrectly. I have addressed this question to many friends and restaurant servers in Italy, and the normal reply is, Spoons are for children!

Linda, I completely understand your confusion; for I too have received those somewhat arrogant looks while dining at an Italian-American restaurant. What can we do? Nothing. The fact that we are aware of the proper Italian protocol by not using a spoon should lead to peace of mind. Simply enjoy your meal and ignore those disparaging looks. Meals are for enjoyment, not for confrontations.

I believe the popular 2015 film, Brooklyn, where the Irish immigrant, played by Saoisre Ronan, was given instructions on how to use a spoon when eating pasta, almost created a blueprint for many of us on Italian-American dining.

Buon appetito! — The Italian-American

This installment of our advice column comes to you from T-Boy’s Ringo Boitano, a second-generation Italian-American, whose ancestral home hails from the hills of Genoa in the region of Liguria. As a lifetime consumer of Northern Italian cuisine, i.e., polenta, risotto, pesto, ravioli, focaccia, and with little attention to his waistline, offers important travel advice regarding the Italian cities of Milan, Bologna and Parma; as well as addressing a question about correct Italian table etiquette when eating long strands of ribbon pasta.

Readers, feel free to ask the Italian-American any question of your choice at **@tr**********.com Also, queries about non-Italian destinations or any form of travel welcomed. T-Boy has an illustrious team of writers with an acute understanding of their ancestral homeland. Next up will be Dear Icelandic-American. I’m curious to learn more about the Icelandic tradition of eating starvation foods.

— T-Boy

The post Dear Italian-American: Travel Advice on N Italy appeared first on Traveling Archive.