Austria Again (now with pictures!)

When you leave some time unscheduled, funny things can happen and you can end up doing things and meeting people you’d never expect. For instance, the Friday evening when I came back to my hotel after a day of wandering, instead of being greeted by the usual wall of smoke from the business men puffing away with their drinks in the lounge (part of the entrance and reception area), I was greeted by no less than 100 twelve to twenty-year-old girls. All of them were sporting pony-tails and the same blue track suits, while pulling along the same metallic silver suitcases. Chatting away in German, it was a refreshing scene that didn’t quite make sense compared to what I was used to seeing in the lobby. Turns out that there was an international competition for synchronized skating in town, and our hotel was one of the hosts. Ironically enough, Canada was participating as well, and as I’d find out a couple of hours later, they too were staying at the Hotel Castellini in Salzburg. The next few days you couldn’t throw a stick in the hotel without hitting a figure skater (not that we were doing that – that’s only legal in Vegas and some parts of south-west Texas). We made quick friends with some of the Skate Canada coaches and parents, and we even took in part of  the competition on the Sunday eve. Sadly we didn’t get to see the Canadians compete, but we did see teams from Australia, Austria, the United States. Watching them skate was absolutely memorizing. It was like watching fish swim all in unison in a small tank, but with lively music and much more glitter and spandex.

Here’s a shot of one of the synchronized skating teams competing at the Red Bull Arena.

After the competition, back at the hotel, hours before the Canadian team had to catch their bus to Munich, some Canadian pride celebrating with some pizza and drinks.

From the department of ‘Not on the Top 10 Things You're Most Likely to NOT Discover in Salzburg’: on the same day as when I met our new hotel guests, I had been wandering down a path along the Salzach River, just soaking in the sights as well as the sounds, when I heard this one particular noise. It was definitely the call of a bird, but after a few moments of stretching my brain to understand what exactly I was hearing, it unmistakably was the sound of one of the birds from the gaming phenomenon Angry Birds! I found the tree where the sound was coming from, camera ready and hoping to see a collection of rather large, round red birds, with big eyes and thick black eyebrows looking down at me (or maybe at some nuisance swine off in the distance), but was sadly disappointed to see just a regular looking song bird. It did make me wonder though, having never heard this bird before, if possibly the creator of the game came from Austria? After some research, sadly it turns out that he’s from Espoo, Findland. I’m sure though that he’s either visited Salzburg before and heard the exact same bird, or they possibly have them in Espoo (I’m making a mental note here to one day visit Espoo, just to see if somehow their name is reflective of their town). It’s funny to come across something that you just assumed was totally made up that you then see in real life.

The riverbank where I heard the unmistakable call of the Angry Birds.

What I had hoped to see up in the trees calling out. I'm scared to think of what the poop would look like.

Since I couldn’t post any images on my previous Austria blogs, here are some of my favourites from the trip. Sadly most are lacking people, but that’s what you get when you travel for a few days on your own.

Me, standing on one of the many bridges that cross the Salzach River.

My brother Brian - now a Californian who has trouble handling the cold and anyone who says 'eh' too much. eh.

Of course, one of the main reasons for tourism in Salzburg, the infamous and digitally talented, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Here's the house he grew up in (3rd floor) on the main tourist street. Sadly, there's a grocery in the space on the main floor, and I'm guessing that it's not quite authentic from the period. Especially since I could buy pre-mixed iced-mochas there.

Of course everyone tries to capitalize on his image to make some tourist bucks.

Being Canadian, I nearly said 'sorry, excuse me' as I nearly bumped into this cut out of Mozart on the sidewalk. The big ticket item with his name on it in nearly every tourist shop are 'Mozart Balls'. They even left them on the pillows in the hotel. I'm not sure if that's the most appropriate 'item' one would want to be famous for, but as far as I could see, and maybe sadly, no one was making fun of it. Or them.

A view of the old town of Salzburg from the fortress.

In the fortress museum, they had some interesting relics. This is a mask they used to make people wear when they were convicted of certain crimes. It was meant to bring shame and people were to mock them. It's today's equivalent of being caught with a 'Boys-2-Men' concert shirt on.

Never call Austrians inefficient. Not sure what to say about this one, other than who wouldn't take a picture of this if they walked by it?

I've never ever ever been in favour of graffiti, yet I find myself drawn to it in other countries. This one was actually quite brilliant, and it makes me wonder if it was based on a specific character.

There's a huge selection of rubber ducks you can buy in Salzburg. Some look like Mozart, some look like traditional Austrians (outside of the duck-like features). Others are just your regular rubber ducks.

Another shop sells decorated eggs, depending on what holiday is coming up. I guess I missed the Christmas display as they were already focusing on Easter. There had to have been at least 4 or 5 thousand eggs on display, all locally produced.

On one of my day tours, I came across a life-sized Nativity display in one of the small villages about 50 kms away from Salzburg. Although the characters were kind of cartoony, they still had an interesting presence that made you feel like you had just interrupted some kind of special moment. The 'snow hats' from a recent snow fall added to the charm.

And on an end note, when traveling in a country with a language foreign to you, I'd always suggest to learn as much as you can - and that means paying attention to and trying to read signs, directions, and even the occasional poster. It's always interesting to see how our language differs.

This one falls into the 'snicker' category for sure. Gotta love foreign languages.

Salzburg is a great place for any kind of visit, with so much to do from general tourist wandering to some of the best outdoor adventuring in the world. Now I understand what good ol' Arnie means - capped off with great culture and wonderful food, who, even as a local, wouldn't declare that they'll be back?

Austria - an inside perspective

Salzburg - the next days.

So now that my brother Brian is in town and that there are also some Red Bull colleagues of his also from the US, I've been having full non hand waving English conversations. It's good for the brain, as well as the hands. German is a difficult language to pick up. Having worked at a German design agency years ago and having to work with their language without being able to speak it, I always admired the sheer length of some of their words which I swear could be as long as 9,436 characters! As well, I admired any person who could not only pronounce these words, but could use them in a proper sentence, all in one breath without passing out. This makes me think that I should check the Guiness World Book of Records to see if the person who holds the record for the longest time without taking a fresh breath only did so because they were speaking one of these words.

One really should admire the opportunities that the people of Salzburg have. Within a few hours by train or car, you have cities to travel to such as Munich, Frankfurt, Vienna, and even Venice. Compare this to the choices we have on the prairies, and you can see why at least some jealousy comes into play. If I had the choice of heading to Brandon, Manitoba or to Vienna, Austria, my guess is that I'd more likely choose Vienna. Nothing against Brandon, it is beautiful in its own way, but it's not Vienna and judging from my last visit, never will be. Not only do you get a spectacular change in scenery, you get a change in culture as well. Funny thing though is that not all Europeans travel as much as we think they would with these opportunities. Talking to some locals, I've likely been to Paris far more times than the average person who lives here. To me, that's just crazy! Too much shnitzel in the brain if you ask me, but it's just different.

I've always seen such an importance placed on family in most of the places I've traveled to in Europe, and family does tend to stick together. My brother has taken me to a restaurant here that he regularly visits (he travels here at least 10 times each year for business), and on our first visit after he landed on Saturday, he was greeted by the owner like he was family. We went back today for lunch, and again, he was greeted just as well, and this time, so was I. There are restaurants I visit frequently back at home, and I can't say I've ever felt that welcomed. People here seem to come first.

My adventures the past couple of days have kept me within the downtown area of Salzburg, but tomorrow, while my brother and the rest of his Red Bull crew are all heading to work, I'll be breaking out of the city via a bus and then a gondola and heading up to see a glacier up close. Funny thing, being from Canada, spending some good money and a full day to go see some snow and ice, but hey, this is Austrian ice! Plus it'll be good to see some country side. It's sadly my last full day of tourism before heading back to Winnipeg, so I'll have to make it count.

Cheers, until later.

Austria - days 2 and 3

Salzburg, part 2

There's been a bit of a delay in my blogging (technology again grrrr), but the exploring of an amazing cultural centre has certainly continued. It's Saturday morning, my brother just arrived from Los Angeles (via meetings in New York), and he's just crashed for a couple hours after not much sleep on his flight over. Somehow he was in first class on Luthansa Airlines, versus my no class on Air Canada, yet I managed to get more sleep than he did. While he sleeps, I'll catch up on my writing. I will be writing more in depth later as I've been taking lots of pictures, and some things are best explained with visual examples.

It's always a little strange exploring a city on your own, particularly when you don't have a decent grasp of the local language. My German isn't too bad - I can order food in quantities up to ten, and I'm pretty good at saying 'hello' and saying 'good-bye' and saying 'really? My drink cost that much?'. Well, maybe not exactly that last one. But the Red Bull Cola I'm drinking so that I can have the priviledge of sitting in the hotel lounge did just cost more than yesterday's seafood lunch. In Salzburg, particularly this time of year, you don't hear many English conversations taking place. I always trust a destination that the locals (in this case Austrians and Germans) like to visit. It's like walking into an ethnic restaurant and seeing people of that ethnicity eating there. It's just a feel good situation.

Yesterday (Friday) I started off exploring along the river bank - my trusty tourist map showed a couple of areas where it appeared that I could get a good view of the river, the old town and the fortress up top of the mountain using explanding red lines. So it was either going to be a good view, or the map was indicating areas of high radiation. Not knowing which, I took my chances. And boy o boy was I rewarded! Of course it ended up being some tremendous gains in elevation, but for that view, it was worth it (pictures to come in a later blog). For an area that should have been completely over run with tourists, it was absolutely quiet. I came across what I was excited to think was Mozart's grave - there was a monument that was very headstone like, a description of when he was born and when he died, so I figured heck, this must be it! Research later on at the hotel sadly proved me wrong - turns out no one actually knows where he's buried as he was originally, after a sadly short life, buried like a commoner, and the thought is that his remains were later dug up, crushed, and moved aside for someone else. His skull though possibly was spared, though that's not completely proven. Anyway, moving on from the monument I climbed up and up and up, losing a layer every 100 meters or so of elevation, eventually reaching my destination of the Franziskischlossl Castle. I should note here that when I originally lived in northern Germany, I went on a 'Castle tour' with my friend Heike and 30 of her closest tourism classmates. Excited by the thought of visiting castle after castle, it was not until I reached the first one and thought to myself 'this? This is a Castle? It's just a large home!' did I get educated on the fact that in this part of the world, a Castle is really just a large house. Not even that large, in fact. No moat or draw-bridge or even a turret were ever present. So this is what I stumbled upon yesterday, but what it lacked in size, it more than made up for this with the view.

My other gain in elevation took place the day before, when I went to visit the most visable and famous structure, the Festung Hohensalzburg. This was the old residence of the church, which is more like a fort than anything else. There are two ways of getting there - walking (I think there's a gain of at least 200 meters from the old town), or taking the FestungsBahn, a railroad type device to carry people up the side of the mountain, sparing them them hardship and sweat of climbing it on their own. My plan was to walk up, tour the buildings, take in the sites, then take it down so I could see the city from top to bottom. Turns out it closes for major maintenance only one day of the year, and that happened to be the day. It did add to the fun of the day though watching some pretty out of shape tourists making the challenging journey up, not looking nearly as festive as they would have been taking a ride.

Again, what a view, a full 360 degree panorama that just took your breath away (if you had it back after the climb). I have to say, the church certainly knew what it was doing when they developed that space over a thousand years ago. Ruling the lands and basically being able to get what you want, where you want it, who wouldn't have chosen the highest and most easily defended space? Of course those who actually built it lived below in it's shadows where they were more vulnerable to attacks from any hostile group.

With all of this climbing and continual walking, I usually have to find creative ways of keeping myself energized. Some days, after 4 or 6 or even 8 hours of exploring, my energy does fail. Years ago when traveling with my wife in Sydney, Australia, not being a coffee drinker, I discovered chocolate covered espresso beans. Believe me, being 10 time zones over, sometimes it's nice to have something to aid you. This habit though evolved - it's now iced-mochas that keep me going. The only problem is that that's a heck of a lot of liquid to take in, and anyone who's traveled throughout Europe can confirm that here, particularly in tourist areas, there is only one washroom per 10,000 people. The ratio in Paris is even worse! So maybe it's good that a) I have not found one single Starbucks here, and b) any decent coffee shop here does NOT make any espresso drinks iced. That, or the combination of my minimal German and general hand gestures is not as effective as I'd hope them to be when it comes to communicating. So that's where Red Bull comes in. Not something I'd usually drink, I justify this in two regards - it's keeping me energized (gives you wings, hey?) and it's a local specialty. Just like Weinersnitzel. As they say, go local, or just go home.

And that I don't intend to do, at least not yet. There are still more adventures to be had! Now they'll include my brother. We're not completely the same. In fact, we're probably quite opposite in many ways, so we'll see how the adventure continues.

My comfy blogging spot 

Twenty some hours later

The Canadian has landed. Actually, three times. First in Montreal, then in Frankfurt, finally in Salzburg. Being someone who loves travel and thankfully still likes flying, it was a good adventure overall. There are always lessons to be learned - such as, if someone's checking your passport and boarding pass, there's a good chance you're walking into an area that you're not going to be let out of - at least not easily. That's what happened to me in Montreal not realizing that their International departures area was like this. What it meant was that the GOOD restaurants were on the side I just came from. The BAD ones were the only ones I could access. Thankfully I was rewarded soon after with a very empty flight and four seats to myself!

So now here I am, sitting in my hotel room, working on what I still intend to be a daily blog (if the frustrations of wifi don't eventually bring me down), snacking away. I could be out wandering the quiet streets of Salzburg - it is a beautiful town, and don't get me wrong, but I already did that in a half-dazed state earlier today while waiting for my hotel room to be prepared. Keeping me company are a Stiegl 500 ml beer, a bag of paprika chips, and a bar of one of my favourite chocolates in the world, Ritter Sport Mousse au Chocolat. This was all acquired at the Shell station 100 meters from my hotel. Now this isn't the fanciest dinner in the fanciest of places, but after 3 long flights and sleeping and eating with everyone else around, it's nice to have a little bit of quiet and privacy (and no seat belt signs). Plus I'm not worried about what the attendant is going to think when I take my time nursing this beer. And I have to say, what a huge disappointment Air Canada has turned out to be for flying over seas. The planes and the seats were more than fine, but talk about poor (and grumpy) service, and about the worst airplane food I've ever had. Plus, on the Montreal-Frankfurt flight, they might have done us all the favour of letting us know before we boarded exactly how miniscule the dinner would be! Plus, breakfast was a plastic-wrapped day old (at least) muffin with a choice of beverage. I won't even ask what ever happened to the hot towels.

The first day in Europe is always the most challenging - with the multiple time changes, not sleeping, eating breakfast at your usual dinner time and eating your dinner at your usual breakfast time, things tend to get a little messed up. But I love it - it shakes things up, as it 're-sets' your days and takes away the normal routine.

So as my adventure begins, I'm again reminded of how different Europe is. I guess it's fair to say, especially looking at my choice of dinner tonight, sometimes you just make different decisions and live life a little bit differently here. My first trip to Europe, back with my buddy Jamie after finishing university, was a budget based trip, and I find I've never lose that sensibility when traveling here. Jamie and I shared some amazingly cheap wines on that trip that I'd never even cook with let alone drink today, but sometimes that's just the way it is - and it all works out fine. Except for that period of 24 hours in Greece where Jamie, after some cheap drinks completely lost his memory, lost his way back to our hotel, and supposedly had an hour long conversation with a Pelican (see previous blog entry for details).

I have two full days to explore Salzburg before my brother arrives Saturday morning. Two days to adjust to the time zone, two days to work on my German, two days to explore and see what I can discover on my own. And two days to figure out why my bluetooth keyboard keeps disconnecting from my Blackberry Playbook as I'm typing. Otherwise, my entries will be becoming VERY short, and a certain un-named keyboard (you know who you are...) is going to go for a short swim in the river!

Cheers for now!

Off to Austria! The typical winter holiday...

While most Canadians are packing up their short and sunscreen and heading south, here I am, heading East. Way East. Not the far-East East, but the Europe kind of East. I'm off to Salzburg, Austria. The only chance of me wearing shorts might be on the way to the hotel gym and the only chance of me getting a sunburn might be on my nose if I manage to get above 3,000 meters on the nearby slopes (sadly as a sightseer rather than a skier).

Winter this year has been pretty easy, as winter goes. Usually our winters are long and they can be difficult to manage, like a long lost relative who drops in to live with you for 5 or 6 months. This year  it's been more like just an annoying week or so. I haven't felt that usual burning desire to escape to somewhere where bars come in two types: outdoors, and swim-up. When my brother tempted me to meet up with him before some meetings at the Red Bull European offices, I made the rash decision to join up and keep him company (brothers are supposed to do this for each other - it's part of the bro code). 

So I'll be blogging, hopefully daily during this journey. If there are gaps in my posts, I blame it either on my bluetooth keyboard acting up (which it's already doing), or on too much Austrian beer the night before. Or maybe both...

Blogging station number 1. Airport comfort at it's best.

What Girls Want (on vacations)

Keeping your children happy on holidays - the secrets are about to be revealed...

If our girls booked our vacations stays, things would look a lot different.

First of all, I am not about to unleash the power of the internet and let our girls book any of our future holiday accommodations. That would be like giving sugar-starved, hyperactive kids a key to a candy store after closing. Plus I’m pretty sure that if that task were taken away from me, my wife would likely realize just how little I actually do around the house (outside of trip planning for the family) and potentially re-think our long term ‘marriage contract’. So for that reason alone, it’s just not going to happen.

There are other reasons though. Recently on a family trip to San Diego, California, I paid close attention to what actually keeps them amused and busy when we’re at our hotel. It’s not having fancy restaurants in the lobby, or amazing art hanging in the walls, or even the brand name of the hotel that’ll keep them happy and busy. The following are the things I discovered that they’re really attracted to and likely would keep them occupied for hours. 

Elevators and elevator buttons

When we’re in a plane and I’m yet again amazed that something so large and full of people and luggage could ever get off the runway and into the air, the kids are quietly reading, not paying any attention to the surrounding miracle. But put them into an elevator, and they’re grinning mischievously ear-to-ear and dashing at the speed of light to be the first to press the buttons. I imagine this gives them a feeling of control. After being directed through airports, flown in a plane, driven in a taxi or rental car, this likely is their first chance at deciding WHERE to go. Plus, it’s simple, and YOU know that THEY know that they have the power at their fingertips to influence any other passengers’ day, just by deciding just how many buttons to push.

 Room cards

I think everyone remembers the day when we were all given an actual key to use to access our rooms, and the importance of hanging onto it or facing the embarrassment of going back to the front desk to get a replacement. Now with key cards, they’re more like souvenirs or collectors items, particularly to those who like to hoard any and all things ‘free’. With our girls at an age where they’ve begun to assert their hotel independence, we’ve begun to get additional cards for each of them. It’s always a battle though between our girls as to who gets to swipe to get into the room, swipe to get into the pool, swipe to get in the back door entrance after hours, or swipe to flush the toilet (kidding! But you can bet our girls would LOVE this feature if it meant they got to swipe their cards that much more). I’m not even sure why my wife and I bother to get a card when we have two eager swipers, ready and waiting…

Luggage carts

I’m not sure if luggage carts inspired skate boards, or vice versa, but I have to say that they’re equal when it comes to the damage any kid can do to themselves and any immediate surrounding objects (including parked vehicles). Knowing that every kid at some point lives by the motto of ‘What? Me walk?’ after an exceedingly long journey from the car to the hotel lobby (20 meters), the luggage cart is the perfect (and fun) solution to tired, weary feet. The only time any kid has any interest in NOT riding on a luggage cart is when their other sibling is already riding on it and they get to control where it goes.

The luggage cart, also known as a Bellman's cart,
really should have been named "Monkey Bars on Wheels".

Really, really long hallways

When it comes to running programs, school fitness testing, or heck, getting up and crossing the room at home to get the remote control, it’s amazing how instantly tired our children can become. This all changes when they’re in the proximity of a long, hotel hallway. I mean, even I get tempted to kick up the heels and see just how quickly I could make it from one end to the next, dodging luggage carts, discarded room service trays, and yes, the occasional guest reaching for their morning newspaper. For kids, it’s like it’s instinct, not unlike a bird migrating south for winter, to sprint like crazy at the drop of a hat (or room key).  If only the remote were at the end of it.

Swimming pools

Like moths to a flame, this feature is an obvious diversion for any child, but for our recent trip, I was excited to know that half way through our trip we were moving from a rather ‘nice but regular’ hotel to a fancy ‘slap-on-the-extra-charges-like-peanut-butter-on-bread’ type of hotel. Or, as they say, a ‘resort’. Calling it this, at least for me, justifies paying nearly 3 times the price per night yet still getting two queen sized beds, a bathroom, windows, extra parking charges… So as excited as I was to jump into a ‘resort’ pool, to the girls, if it’s a hotel and it has something larger than an average bathtub and it’s holding warmer than room temperature water, that’s all that matters. To them, there’s no such thing as an upgrade when it comes to pools. That’s unless it has a water slide (um, no), diving board (um, no again), or extended hours (once again, no. In fact, the hours of operation were shorter). Sigh…

Our first hotel pool. The palm trees were a nice touch, but the girls would
have had the candles (positioned to make an ordinary pool look classy)
out after at most two cannonballs.

Our next pool. More palm trees, slightly bigger space, but sadly
no candles.

 In conclusion

Like children having more fun with the cardboard packaging that their Christmas gifts come in, any parent’s hotel choice can suffer the same results. So if you’re traveling as a family, forget the fancy stuff - keep it for the trips for you and your partner! If you want to keep the kids happy, skip all that and keep to the basics. It’ll likely keep more green in your wallet and put more smiles on their faces. That is, until they lose the tv remote.

9/11 - 10 years later, minus a day

10 years ago today, as a tourist in New York City standing near the Statue of Liberty, I took this picture. Neither I, nor most of the world, had any idea of what was to come in the next 24 hours, and how it would affect us. With so many shocking moments that morning with the attacks on the Twin Towers and The Pentagon, with moments of silence - not knowing what to say and what to believe, our lives were changed forever.

The World Trade Center, Monday, September 10th, 2001 (I took this picture from Liberty Island, mid afternoon as a storm was rolling in over Manhattan)

While taking this picture, I didn’t realized how symbolic this dramatic storm was, rolling in almost from nowhere. I never could have considered that the scene that I captured on film, within a handful of hours, would never be the same.

Where were you that day?

Everyone remembers where he or she was the early morning of September 11, 2001 when they heard the news of the attacks – and I certainly do too. But for me, when I think of the tragedies of 9/11, I’ll always think of where I was the day before, on Monday, September 10^th, 2001.

September 10, 2001

On that day, in the morning, walking around downtown New York City, the air was fresh and clear and crisp and clean. The birds were singing, and although the temperatures were warm, the leaves were just starting to show signs of the fall season that would shortly arrive.

On that day, people were scurrying around from place to place, enjoying the weather, the blue skies, and walking along with their cups of coffee and their rolled up newspapers. They had places to go, people to see, lives to live.

On that day, I was a tourist in one of the most amazing cities in the world. I was so excited to be there, to take in the history, the atmosphere, the buildings, the people, and to satisfy a curiosity that had been building up in me after years of exposure from television shows, movies, songs and stories, all centered around New York City.

On that day, I still felt innocence in the world. I felt trust and compassion and love. The world felt right. With so much to see and to explore, it was a world where so much was possible – in fact, anything was possible, and it was all there standing in front of me.

10 years later, minus a day

10 years later, minus a day, I think we all need to remember at least a little of how we all felt that day, the day before our world changed.

We need to remember that even though we’ve lived through such devastating events, good still exists, and is present in each and every one of us.

We need to remember the positive influences we can have, because people are there and willing to listen and learn.

We need to remember to trust others, as we want them to trust us. Without trust, any society is doomed to live in fear.

We need to remember and honour those who were lost on September 11^th, and those who were directly affected by the attacks, particularly with the loss of loved ones. We also need to remember that they would want us to continue on with our lives, if only as a tribute to theirs.

And lastly, we need to move on. We need to continue to work every day to build a world where we can all celebrate what we have, respect all others, and know that goodness in the world doesn’t just happen – it’s built from the collective effort of every single person on this earth.

Pack to the Future

 “A good station wagon is one that can fit, at a minimum, a four by eight foot sheet of plywood, inside, flat. Anything else is just crap.”

These are wise words from my dad from the 1970s (maybe slightly paraphrased), owner of various station wagons and the exclusive family vehicle packer for years of family summer vacations.

It’s a funny thing, this statement always enters my mind this time of year. It’s the time of packing up the family car and traveling to the cottage, the beach, as well as taking extended road trips to the land of road side motels, waterslides, and of course, the great outdoors (with the occasional outlet mall thrown in).

Let’s go back to the 70s though first. As a kid, at the sound of the bell ringing on the last day of school in June (one of the greatest sounds on earth), my dad would be waiting in the parking lot across the street from our school, the car carefully and expertly packed to the fabric roofline with just enough room left for my mom, my brother and sister, and me to hop in, along with some pre-approved in-car entertainment - books, mad-libs, Archie comic books - nothing more.

Those were glorious carefree days, and I loved each and every one of them. That was what summer was all about – packing up and getting away.

Packing for any trip is an art, but when it comes to packing the family vehicle for a road trip, I’d have to say that no one was better skilled than my dad. Rumour had it within our family that rather than having a Master’s in Geography from Penn State, he actually had a Master’s Degree in Spatial Analysis and the Integration of Personal Belongings within Highly Limited Vehicular Spaces - but that was never actually confirmed.

Here’s the classic 70s red Ford station wagon we used to cruise down the highway in.

Just how skilled was he when it came to stuffing in the gear? When I pack our Subaru Forester SUV, I can barely get in the four of us and our gear, given two hours, an industrial-sized compressor, four Costco-sized jars of Vaseline, and a crowbar.

When my dad packed up our old station wagon for our family trips, this is how many people he could fit in with their gear:

He was so good that he could even get people to wear matching clothing. And that wasn’t easy in the 70s.

To be fair though, in our modern age, even with a Thule roof top carrier, the capacity of our car doesn’t even come close to what you used to be able to put in the classic woody. You certainly won’t be coming even close to fitting in a full sheet of plywood, even if you cut it in half. Packing space in modern vehicles has shrunk just as much as the quality of modern tv programming, our favourite childhood chocolate bars, or worst yet, the humour level of Jay Leno’s opening dialogues.

And they don’t even call them station wagons any more, that’s just too unsophisticated for today’s consumers. Now they’re called SUVs. Oooooo. They’ve raised them up slightly, made them more aerodynamic and added more dashboard gadgets (none will ever rival the 8 track player in my opinion), but even with advances of modern technology, I think the inside environment has not improved that significantly. For instance, you can no longer stick the smallest kid up front in the middle of the bench seat (also known as the ultimate ‘forward through-the-window launching seat'), thus exposing them directly to the continual abuse of their back-seated, sharp-elbowed, fidgety and slightly sweaty siblings. It’s a war zone that even the UN would have a hard time condoning.

I have to say though, with a big road trip coming up in 2 weeks, even with the challenge of a smaller interior, the spirit of the family car-loaded summer trip is not lost! In the end, it’s all about packing up and getting away from work or school, the household chores, the mail, the telephone and the daily routines.

If I had it my way, I’d be just like my dad, waiting outside our girls’ school every Friday of every weekend, packed to the roof rails, ready to explore a beautiful, summery world. 

In an age where we no longer have to sit on sticky vinyl seats in an un-air-conditioned car, or listen to the same radio station (before any kind of portable music listening devices were invented), we should remember that we’re still well off and living a luxurious life in the vehicles of the day.

And what is my motto that I hope that our girls remember when they’re older packing up their own families? Two come to mind – ‘grin and bare it,’ and maybe more importantly ‘you can’t take it with you.’

Past, present and past

If you're even half as nostalgic as I am, you'll love this web site. It might even inspire you to create an image of your own and submit it.

The site is called Dear Photograph.

This is how it works - find an old print of yourself or of someone you know or knew, and bring it back to where it was originally taken. The older the image is, the more dramatic and fun it can be. Then you position the image as closely as you can to overlap the real scene in front of you, and shoot. Including your hand and arm makes it even better, rather than making the picture you take look like something altered in photoshop. Plus it gives it a more human element.

Here are some other examples of what people have created and submitted. Some of them are very amusing, while others nearly make you want to cry, especially when you read what the person submitting the images has written below. I've added in the original comments with the following images.

Dear Photograph,
Thank you for everything we had.

Dear Photograph,
Any idea where them dinosaur shorts are at?

Dear Photograph,
I wonder which parent let us up there?

As someone who loves to travel and take photographs and document my life as well as those around me, I'm always looking back through travel and family photos and reminiscing. It's wonderful to see where you've been, how you've changed, but it's also humbling to recognize that no matter how hard we try to live in the present, time always marches on.

Pump My Ride

Not every day's a holiday (boooo goes the crowd), but there’s nothing saying that you can't find adventure in every day life, even on days where you find yourself commuting to work. I think anyone would agree that it's annoying to be stuck in the city in summer on a beautiful day when you’d prefer to be heading out of town with a kayak or bike on your roof, rather than sitting in your car in traffic, listening to yet another classic rock station, waiting for traffic lights to turn green.

That’s why, when I can, I ride my bike to work. 

This is me and my trusty steed at The Forks National Park in downtown Winnipeg. My bike’s about 15 to 17 years old, has thousands of city and back-country trail kilometers on it, has many well earned scratches, but no matter what abuse I put it through, it always loves a good adventure, even if it’s just getting me to work and back.

We're living in a 'green' world and there are many ethical and green reasons to commute to work by bike: your fitness, your health, and your finances (gas prices are more of a pain in the ass than even the worst bike seat). I love riding to work. I have many different routes I can take to the office - some short, some long, some that follow along river paths, some that sneak their way through neighbourhoods and down quiet tree-lined paths. Whatever the day, you can choose a route to suit your mood (kind of like the difference between listening to ABBA or listening to Aerosmith - you can cater to your own inner extremes).

And hey, zipping down the road on your bike, not only do you save time by speeding by long lines of cars at the lights, but maybe most importantly, you LOOK good. Especially if you’re wearing some flashy cycling clothes, and if you show off those quick-reflex stronger-than-steel muscular calf muscles, brimming with sweat at the opportune moment (okay, this may sound like a little bit of vanity, but I've always felt that cyclists are rewarded with svelte looking legs to compensate for the usual lack of under-development that happens with their upper body since when cycling it isn't employed to do much more than steer, shift gears, brake and give the occasional single-fingered 'hello' to passing motorists).

And that brings me to another reason why I ride my bike. This.

Meet my Volkswagon Golf. Year of birth, October 2002, purchased after my VW Jetta (1991 – 2001) went on to a better place. Like my bike, it gets me from Point A to Point B as any other car would. But unlike my bike, it’s not the sexiest of cars out there. There’s no sunroof, no fancy ‘sport’ package – heck, even the windows are ‘roll-down’ (for those of you raised on power windows, this is where you have to use your arm strength to move the windows up and down - cycling does not build muscles for this action unfortunately). Plus, no matter how you flex your calves while driving this car, no one will see you. It’s like a tree falling in the forest with no one to hear. So sad.

I know it doesn’t sound that bad, and thankfully being a car in its 10th year of driving, there isn’t even any rust. But take into consideration what my business partners drive to the office, the cars that I park by every day at the office.

This is Dean’s car, an authentic 1971 MGB. Even when it’s quietly parked on the street, it just oozes style and elegance. Even the idling sound has a hint of a British accent along with a slight hint of the smell of high quality single-malt scotch.

This is Oai’s car, a Pontiac G6. As a hard top convertible that folds into the trunk and as a vehicle with sleek curves, you know people are looking at the driver wondering if he's an international spy, an NHL player, or even more exotic and mysterious, the owner of a Tim Horton’s coffee/donut franchise.

When THESE guys drive down the street, THIS is who’s waving to them.

When I drive down the street, THIS is who’s waving to me.

Their cars should out "Adventure! Speed! Sexy!" Meanwhile, my car shouts out "Practical! Ample trunk space! Good for getting groceries!"

So that’s why, when I can, I stick to my bike. Green living or no green living, it's my best action plan that just happens to benefit mother earth. I'll keep using it as my primary means of commuting, at least until the days grow short and the mornings begin to consistently dip below zero, usually by mid-October. At that time, I’ll put the bike and lycra away and reluctantly switch back to the Golf.

Besides, when you’re taking the time to commute by bike in the fall, enjoying the season, the leaves, the cool fresh air, but no one can see your calf muscles because you're forced to wear a double layer of cycling tights, really, what's the point?

Adventure travelers - find your inner couch potato

Lust for travel isn't a 9 to 5 kind of thing - for me, it's 24-7, as they say. But packing up and heading out on a vacation at any time of the day on any particular day usually doesn't work because:

1. even the simplest trip takes at least some planning
2. not everyone in the family enjoys packing as much as I do (my shaving kit is always ready to go at a moment's notice...)
3. uh, I've got this work thing I need to show up for
4. your kids' teachers seem really fussy about when your kids are gone weeks at a time (likely has something to do with the only being able to travel at peak periods when airlines max out their prices and change your reservation more times than Lindsay Lohan has court appearances)

So for those times when you have that travel bug, but really can't get away, here are some travel movies to 'get you in the mood'. Outside Magazine, one of my favourite reads, recently posted an on-line article with the best 5 adventure travel movies ever made. I'm not sure they all would have made my list (believe it or not, there is NO reference to Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure or Ferris Bueller's Day Off - so so sad). But there does seem to be some quality choices there that might actually satisfy that inner yearning to be far far away.

So tonight, if you wish you were jetting off to cycle through the alps in France, or to ride the class 4 rapids on the Bow River in Alberta, maybe these movies will help quench that thirst, couch-potato style. All from the comfort of your own living room, with no passport or full body cavity search required.

Travel on Ted...

Vacations - the Good, the Rad and the Knarly

The word Holiday is defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary as follows:

A day on which one is exempt from work; specifically: a day marked by a general suspension of work in commemoration of an event.

I think we can all agree that a holiday’s purpose is to take time away from work. For example, that could be a week or two away from your office or business, or for a stay-at-home parent, time away from the usual household chores, or generally from any situation that involves ‘deadlines’ and ‘must-dos’. I’ve also heard that trying to have a conversation with someone like Paris Hilton, Megan Fox or for that matter any political figure could be described as ‘work,’ (or they could be described as 'a piece of work') but I think that’s a little bit out of the description we’re looking for today.

So, with that in mind, of the following vacation types – which one would you say is most in line with the type of holiday you crave?

The Resort Rat (a 'turn me over when I'm done' kinda holiday)

Lying back and doing absolutely nothing but soaking up the sun is peaceful, and I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t find it relaxing and rejuvenating. I believe it’s in our nature, if even only for a short time, to lay back and be as unproductive as possible. That’s what all-inclusive resorts, hotel spa programs, cruise ships and road construction projects were created for. Ha!

Your butt goes here.

Typical family resort behaviour. I can't even count how many shots we as a family have exactly like this...

Many of my friends (and even myself, to a small degree) love a holiday that involves beaches, pools, swim-up bars and time-freeing kids clubs. A holiday like this means rest, relaxation, tan lines, and ultimately other people doing as many things as possible for you (within reason and within the realm of the law, of course - unless you're in Thailand).
 

With thousands of these kinds of small villages in Europe, how can you ever go wrong on a multi-day cycling trip?

The Adventure Traveler (a rugged adventure - but not without a mint on the pillow at night)

Now this kind of vacation takes a little more effort, and usually doesn’t include a broken-English speaking servant named Manuel finding out your drink and food preferences. If you’re the kind of person that loves to be on-the-go and you’ve signed up for an adventure travel type of trip, you’re in some way responsible for getting yourself from point A to point B, likely by bike, kayak, foot, or even as illustrated below.

I have no idea what kind of insurance would cover you in any situation where you choose to stand on the back of an elephant...

It may seem like a lot of work, and certainly it can be, especially if for example you’re cycling through the back roads of southern France and discover exactly how much effort it takes to cycle up the ‘picturesque and character-filled’ hills. (Warning – in France, every old village is built at the top of a hill – they say it has something to do with centuries-old defense systems. In my mind, I think it’s more because they want to make the cyclists earn those chocolate croissants and cappuccinos they’ll be devouring for breakfast.)  

There are rewards as well to this type of travel. Once you’ve finished your day, most often there’s a luxurious hotel, a wonderful meal and bottle of wine waiting for you back at your three or four star hotel, nestled within a thousand year old village full of life, history, culture, and likely, other adventurers like you. Some are recognizable by the bandages they wear after going down a hill much too fast and crashing head first, others by their funny bow-legged walking style after 8 hours on a bike, for 6 days in a row.

Adventure Junkie (where the return portion of the flight is not always necessary)

This kind of vacation, in a word, is mayhem (note: I’ve always loved the word mayhem. Sadly, having done many Google map searches, I’ve never been able to come up with a town or city anywhere in the world with that name – otherwise I’d travel there in a heartbeat).

If the board had a cup-holder, I'm sure I'd give this a try too.

Some vacationers can’t sit still longer than the time it would take to sit on an all-inclusive resort swim-up barstool and order a drink - and if they did, that drink is more likely to be a high-energy protein shake than a pina colada or margarita. These people tend to be labeled as ‘adventure-junkies.’ You've seen them around - typically they drive perpetually mud-caked Subaru Foresters, dress with at least one layer of fleece to top out their outdoorsy outfit, and they name their dogs after 11^th century philosophers and physicists. 

Their idea of a holiday involves putting themselves in near-death situations. This may include climbing a 90 degree face of a mountain (usually named after the first person silly enough to try to climb it, who died trying to do so, and who’s body was likely never found), kayaking down class 5 rivers sporting nothing more than a wet-suit, a helmet and a sack full of ‘woo-who’s!,’ or participating in an ultra marathon in the middle of a desert, surrounded by snakes, scorpions, and man-eating coyotes, all after training for the 20 weeks leading up to the holiday, not eating anything more in a day than a handful of carrot sticks and the occasional organic energy bar. 

These are the people who proudly declare ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead.’ Some of my friends (crazy as they are) are like this, and when they say this, I believe them (then I politely ask if they mind if I take out an extra insurance policy on them...).

As Long As You Get Away

Vacations mean different things to different people. And for this, I’m truly glad. Otherwise the next time I’m on a multi-day cycling trip through southern Italy, or when I’m kayaking off the coast of Vancouver Island, or even sitting at a café in a quaint little Spanish town after a day's hike, I’d literally be elbow to elbow with a bunch of like minded travelers all trying to have the same experience. I personally prefer to have a little more space and don’t mind getting up, at least on occasion, to get my own drinks. But heck, if someone wants to bring it to me, who am I to refuse?