While on a recent plane ride from Tokyo to Bangkok–I love saying things like that–I confessed to the woman in the next seat what I did for a living.
“Wow,” she said. “What a great job.”
It is.
Then she asked the inevitable question: “What’s your favorite destination?”
We’re all asked that question, all the time, and it’s a fair question.
“New York,” I told her. “Give me four days in New York, especially with someone else paying for it, and I’m a happy man.”
I’ve also told people Ireland, the Grand Canyon, Paris, Morocco, either Dakota, Vegas, New Orleans, anywhere in Mexico, Venice, one particular bar in Montreal, the 16th tee at Wilmette Golf Course, Turkey, Cooperstown, Monument Valley, any night in a London theater, Antarctica, Portugal and in my favorite chair at home with The Wife by my side, the two of us watching baseball together on the tube.
I’ve really said all those things.
I’ve never lied.
In 2002, there were more favorites. And a few that, um, weren’t.
A look back . . .
Best cruise: Dvorak Expeditions’ Classical Music River Journey, on the Green River, in Utah. Whitewater and canyons plus a distinguished string quartet that floated along with us and, in camp, played Vivaldi and other good stuff. Magic moments.
Best Elmer Fudd impression: Lead violinist Barry Socher’s dead-on rendition of Wagner’s immortal anthem, “Kill the Wabbit.”
Worst cruise: The Eastern Mediterranean on Royal Olympic Cruise Line’s Olympia Explorer. Nice itinerary, new ship, surly service, mediocre food, awful shows and an on-deck band that, as the ship bade farewell to romantic Venice, played those great Italian standards, “Roll Out the Barrel” and “Tequila.”
Best island, North America: Prince Edward Island, Canada. Lighthouses and little churches and quiet coves and hospitable folk that make you want to stay, and stay.
Best island, Europe: Crete. For its mountains, beaches, history, hospitality and the cuttlefish in tomato-herb-olive oil sauce at Tavernia Zepos in Hania.
Best island, Caribbean: Tobago. Relatively undiscovered, which means fishing villages that still rely on fishing, not us. But hurry.
Worst destination: Tijuana, Mexico. Some admirable restaurants, good shopping and plenty of local color–but a truly tawdry Coahuila Street red-light district brings the whole place down. Is there no other way?
Best hotel, U.S.: The Casablanca, New York. Rooms so nice (some admittedly a tad small), and service so sweet, and prices so reasonable (less than $200 most nights), it’s easy to forget you’re mere steps, literally, from the frenzy of 42nd Street and Broadway.
Best hotel, non-U.S.: Camino Real, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. A near-private beach, palapas for shade, cold beer, cheerful service and rooms facing the Pacific. A quick cab ride from town, with all those wonderful restaurants. Perfect.
Best B&B, U.S.: Orchard Street Manor, New Bedford, Mass. Once a whaling captain’s home, it’s now a graceful mansion with three beautifully furnished guestrooms and a true sense of place.
Best B&B, non-U.S.: Casa Luna, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. At once quirky, fascinating and exceptionally comfortable. Just like the town. Plus a world-class breakfast.
Best hotel room: The Peninsula, Bangkok. Every bell, every whistle, plus a knockout view of the river. Too bad the rest of the hotel feels like a corporate boardroom.
Weirdest hotel room: Relais St-Denis, St-Sauveur des Monts, Quebec. Most of the hotel’s rooms are normal. This “theme room” has planets and comets on the walls. It’s like bedding down in a planetarium. Those wacky Canadians . . .
Best lunch: Osso buco con risotto allo zafferano (plus other good things); Harry’s Bar, Venice.
Best dinner: Lamb tenderloin in almond crust surrounding braised lamb shoulder with potato Napoleon (plus the best foie gras ever); Restaurant l’Eau a la Bouche, Ste-Adele, Quebec.
Most dazzling dining room: Santo Coyote, Guadalajara, Mexico. Palms, artifacts and sexy lighting matched by the stylish clientele. Good food too.
Worst idea for a sandwich: The Big Greek, at McDonald’s in the new Athens airport. No sesame-seed bun: All the Big Mac makings are poured into a pita. It doesn’t work.
Weirdest entree: Local armadillo; Plantation House, Port of Spain, Trinidad. Tasted like wabbit.
Best temple: Angkor Wat, Cambodia. Amazing at a distance; close-up, it boggles the mind.
Best statue: Liberty. Chills. Every time.
Biggest surprise: The Parthenon, Athens. Had no idea it was so massive.
Second biggest surprise: Garden of the Gods, near Karber’s Ridge, Ill. Canyons in Illinois? Believe it.
Third biggest surprise: Having dinner alongside author Norman Mailer at a Provincetown, Mass., restaurant and finding him cordial and good company.
Most unforgettable museum: The Landmine Museum, outside Siem Reap, Cambodia. Piles of defused mines–they look like cheap plastic toys, some of them–plus demonstrations and displays that bring home the horror. If they don’t, the one-legged kid does.
Best in-progress transition: New Bedford, Mass. Visionaries are taking a once-dying port city and rediscovering its whaling-era remnants while retaining its fishing industry. Tough job, but it’s happening.
Most overrated hassle: Security. People, stop your whining. It’s not that big a deal.
Best drive: The Appalachian Trail. To purists it’s a hiking trail from Maine to Georgia (or Georgia to Maine), but our drive-hike combo brought a close-up look at the changing scenery and the changing cultures along the way, plus a chance to meet through-hikers up to the challenge.
Most disappointing drive: The Lewis and Clark Trail. Great concept–tracking the explorers’ route west, by car–but they did it mostly on water that’s no longer free, and through wilderness that’s no longer pristine. For us, it was too many empty miles.
Highest Ralph Lauren factor: Nantucket. Lots of little embroidered horses.
Speaking of which: A gentleman sailed toward Nantucket, deciding once there he would chuck it. Arriving there solo, he slipped on his Polo . . .
And you can finish this yourself. I’ve got to pack.
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Meet the staff
Alan Solomon has been writing travel stories for the Tribune and piling up frequent-flier miles and awards since 1994. His e-mail address is alsolly@aol.com. And his favorite destination is Homer, Alaska.
