See Me Now

I know that travel tips have been done to death, but I can't resist sharing a few of my own. I promise things will get more interesting once I actually get there! - When packing, dump all of your underwear and socks in one of those travel roll up space bags or an oversized Ziploc . Squeeze the air out and then you can cram this in your suitcase wherever it fits, because who cares if your underwear is wrinkled? Then, bring a second space/Ziploc bag to hold your dirty clothes as they accumulate. Again, this can be squeezed and crammed. A side benefit to this method is that your underwear won't spill out everywhere when the TSA opens your luggage to inspect it. - It's kind of embarrassing to fumble around with foreign money, trying to distinguish the unfamiliar coins while you're holding up the gelato line. This time, I'm bringing a little double-wide change purse so I can separate the two- and one-euro coins from all the smaller denominations. - Stuff a bunch ...

One of the intriguing aspects of traveling to a different country is that everything seems novel. Scenes that you wouldn't think twice about in your own country, are somehow poignant and magical elsewhere. This idea is captured in a poem by Stephen Dunn I recently discovered. The effect is magnified outside of the US, where thousands of years of history has become incorporated into modern life. Structures built before there was electricity now house businesses dependent on computers and satellites. And streets teeming with modern commerce are decorated with sculpture and architecture from a distant past. This photo collage shows just a few examples from prior travels.

I'm leaving for Rome in two weeks so today, I decided it would be prudent to learn Italian. Yes, I realize this is like starting a flossing routine on the day before going to the dentist; nobody will be fooled. But I should clarify that I'm not starting entirely from scratch. Before my last trip, I purchased the Rosetta Stone language learning software and I made a pretty decent go of working through the lessons. They did prove helpful and upon my return I vowed to continue, figuring that by now, I'd be prepared to engage in witty repartee with the locals while sipping my morning espresso. Sadly, my Rosetta Stone CDs are buried at the bottom of my 'to do' pile. Nonetheless, I gamely downloaded “ Fodor's Italian for Travelers ,” and fired it up on my iPod during my morning run. Things started out easily enough with simple words and phrases I actually remembered from before. But the lesson quickly moved into phrases that conjure up travel scenarios I'd pr...

Italy is known for the sophistication of its fashion and food, but nothing is more discriminating than the Italian feline. On my last trip, I encountered them everywhere, claiming their rightful place among tourists and locals alike. Though some were homeless, none were wanting, being well tended by shopkeepers, trattorias and one kindly old man. Click here to see i gatti.

When I travel I do a ton of walking. I typically find lodging in the city center, and walk from sight to sight as much as I reasonably can. This comes from my stubborn need to feel independent, as well as to avoid the humiliation of fumbling through an unfamiliar transportation system. But walking is also the best way to get a real flavor for the varying neighborhoods in a city and, of course, provides plenty of exercise while I'm off my regular running routine. This means footwear is a big deal and sure enough, having a good shoe strategy is high on my packing priority list. Thus, I was tickled to see a recent article by the New York Times frugal traveler on just this topic Alas, while reading his otherwise sensible article, I noted that Mr. Gross missed the female perspective here, by give short shrift to the cute factor. Any shoe that meets his criteria of being rugged, waterproof and good for running, will surely fall short of one of mine which is: girly enough to go with...

Ok, this blogging thing is a bit tougher than I expected. After all, it's one thing to blast an email out to your buddies full of blurbs about your daily trials and triumphs. Your friends care, or at least pretend to, and even a brief you go girl reply completes a comforting circuit of validation. But it's quite another thing to lay your words out there for any passer by to see. In fact, it's kind of creepy to think of unknown, lurking eyes with nary an LOL to tip you off to their presence. Blogging, it turns out, amounts to a kind of self-imposed stalking. Also, what seemed before to be fleeting, now takes on a perverse permanence. Your posts become fixed in some mysterious binary-pixelated continuum, perhaps to be electronically excavated and puzzled over years from now. Thus, I proceed with apprehension, wondering if those lurking eyes are rolling skyward.