In all honesty, when my best friend suggested we spend Christmas in Ljubljana, my first response was, “Wait, what did you say?” I’d never actually heard this city’s name spoken before and I was baffled when my friend first uttered it.
After this awkward beginning to our vacation planning, you can imagine how pleasantly surprised I was to eventually find ourselves in the capital of Slovenia, in the midst of a city that skillfully manipulates its many resources with more than ideal results.
Considered one of the safest national capitals in the world, one of its claims to fame is it has no claims to fame. A trip to Ljubljana is simply an exercise of complete cultural immersion and no stress – it is totally walkable, it is in the Eurozone, and it is more than affordable. Which, to me, spells out “perfect weekend getaway,” or a nice addition to an already busy travel itinerary with just a little space left.
Ljubljana has lots to give, so it really just depends on what you are looking for. Every building in the historic city center seems to warrant a study in architecture, not to mention Ljubljana’s landmark castle, which perches on a hill overlooking the city and sports a fantastic restaurant. There are a plethora of good local wines (only two or three euro per glass!), a fun yet casual nightlife (thanks to the local university), thermal pools, museums, and both local and international tasty treats to choose from. What more could you ask for?
To top it off, the heart of the city center hugs a picturesque river framed by weeping willows. Deciding where to spend an evening in Ljubljana is as simple as following the gentle curve of the river, which will take you by many of the popular bars and restaurants in the center. If you are indecisive, you can even zig-zag back across the river with the help of a series of bridges, seeming more like art pieces than something meant for practical use. Summer can’t come soon enough, when I plan to return to Ljubljana and spend a lazy Saturday afternoon sitting on a patio along the river, enjoying a long meal, and people watching.
My best friend Lena and I visited Ljubljana over Christmas, so our experience was distinctly holiday infused. Unbeknownst to us, Ljubljana seems to be ground zero for holiday decorations, with decorations in every corner of the city and an endless series of what could best be described as whimsically beautiful Christmas lights following the river which culminates in a Christmas market in the main square. I can say, in all my travels, I have never seen more imaginative Christmas decorations. Arriving on Christmas eve at 10pm, we had resigned ourselves to eating take-out pizza and going to bed at 11pm, and were instead whisked into the whirlwind and magic which is Ljubljana on Christmas eve, where the city center is the place to see and be seen. Families and friends meet in the center to enjoy the festivity along the river, mulled wine, tasty treats, and last-minute shopping at the market.
The only challenge with visiting Ljubljana is getting there. While it borders many countries: Italy, Croatia, Hungary, and Austria, existing conflicts in train travel between Hungary and Italy have led to a dearth of direct trains from either country. Your options are buses, planes, or trains from Austria or Croatia.
I couldn’t be prouder that I have come so far as not only being a proponent of making this city a destination in your European travel planning but also proudly letting the city’s name roll off my tongue: I heart lyoo-BLYAH-nah. 🙂
I’ve finally realized that I am addicted to traveling. Perhaps because I embrace the opportunity to be a fleeting resident in a new place where I am willingly sucked into someone else’s world. A world where – for the time being – there is no laundry waiting, no dishes to be done, and no bills to be paid.
I want to pretend that this new and exotic world is mine, if only for a few days. I want it all, actually, because somehow I also want to figure out how to transform my visit from something fleeting and touristy into a long-term, measurable connection. But how? Because honestly, as much as we strive to know about these places we visit, how much do we really know?
I find myself wandering tiny streets, optimistically searching for that café or restaurant where only the locals go so I can somehow meet them and understand their spirit. And let’s face it – this is not an easy task. These places are not on google maps. Or on tripadvisor.
So after many fruitless attempts at this technique, I have gladly settled for the next best thing. Which is actually not settling at all really. It has become my favorite activity in every city I go.
The places I go to instead of the elusive “locals only” spots are on google maps. And they are probably in your travel books too. I guess it sounds too good to be true. And maybe it is, because maybe you aren’t going to like my answer. The place that I go in every new city I visit in order to understand and connect with the city, is the local art museum.
Yes, I get it. At face value museums can seem uptight, cold, and uninteresting. Boring perhaps is the best word. But I beg to differ. Far from being a victim of bad lighting and boring docent lectures, my museum visits over the last year have often been the highlight of my travels. Favorites range from Baltimore’s provoking American Visionary Art Museum, to Winslow Homer’s rugged New England beach landscapes at the Portland Museum of Art in Maine, to the overwhelming Monet exhibit at the Musee d’Orsay in Paris, and the passionate permanent collection at the El Museo del Barrio in East Harlem.
Sunset in front of the American Visionary Art Museum
What is most fascinating about these museums, and what subsequently prompted me to write this blog post, is each of them are about as different as you and me. Why? Because within their walls rest objects created by people. These objects each have an individual story to be told. But the true fascination comes from seeing them grouped together in permanent or temporary exhibits, as the collective story they tell reflects the personality of the city and the individuals that make up the city you are visiting. Seriously.
On my current tour of the US, I’ve spent my evenings hanging out with friends and loved ones, and my days wandering the halls of my favorite art museums. I know, I can’t complain. My trip thus far has included New York, Washington DC, and Chicago. I return to the museums here over and over again. They are amazing. But each one is very different, and their differences are related to the cities they call home. Understanding their differences is about getting to know what makes each of these cities tick. Here’s why I love each of them.
Chicago is one of my favorite cities in the world, and its museums haven’t let me down. It is a city that embodies the resilience and graciousness of the American spirit like no other city in America, and these qualities are skillfully mirrored in the permanent collection of the Art Institute of Chicago through combinations of masterpieces like Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, and Mary Cassatt’s The Child’s Bath, among many others.
All of this amazingness on the backdrop of a beautiful building steps away from fabulous Millennium Park. It is really no wonder why this museum is one of my favorite museums in the world.
Subsequently, it was quite àpropos that in this museum, wandering the endless maze of Roy Lichtenstein‘s work last Thursday, I had one of those light bulb moments where I finally came to understand a museum’s unique ability to poignantly capture the essence of the city it calls home. Seeing the Lichtenstein exhibit taught me the importance of comics and comic art in the cultural heritage of Chicago in a way that I never would have understood otherwise. Hurry up because the exhibit closes soon.
My favorite museum steps – the Metropolitan Museum of Art
When I realized that Harry and Sally spent an afternoon here in a scene of one of my favorite movies of all time, When Harry Met Sally, it confirmed that I was not alone in my love for this place. But how could I ever think I would be? Like the Art Institute of Chicago, a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art is an experience both in and out of the building. There is nothing like approaching the Metropolitan Museum of Art and witnessing hundreds of people treating the steps of this magnificent building like their own front porch. Sitting outside in the sun, dancing and painting on the sidewalk, entering and exiting the museum in a flurry of positive activity. People of all shapes and sizes happily co-habiting and epitomizing the je ne sais quoi of New York, where constant wonder shocks you in the realization of the diversity of humanity. All this on the backdrop of the sheer awe of the scale of the museum building and its collection representing in perfect form the grandeur of New York City. The museum’s permanent collection of art and artifacts is just as diverse and grand as the outside. So much so, there is little my words can do to convey the experience. There is truly something for everybody here – from fashion to Egyptian architecture. Just like New York City, you can literally find the world in this museum. You just have to go.
A cold but lively night in Chinatown in front of the Portrait Gallery
I have never met more new people in one day on vacation than during a day spent at the National Portrait Gallery. No matter how much I love a museum, no appreciation I have can ever compare to what I feel for this place. This is, hands down, my favorite museum.
Believe me, the first time I visited this place I was just as surprised by my reaction as you might be. But the reason is very clear – while the connotation of the word “portrait” might call up ancient images of boring rich people who you have no interest in, this place proves that everything you expected to feel about a portrait is unfounded. This is a museum whose purpose is understanding people through art. A docent here once told me that the museum is half art and half history, as understanding each portrait is to enjoy the artistic quality as well as absorb the story behind each of people in the paintings and to understand our own history more succinctly. Mirroring the role of the city it calls home, this museum truly represents not just the nation’s capital but the United States as a whole. In a true exercise of cultural democracy, the Portrait Gallery proudly displays portraits from the most stately politicians to your next door neighbor. Here and only here is it possibly for a person like me to meet everyone from George Washington to George Bush to the founder of the Girl Scouts, and finish my visit by strolling through 180 portraits of residents from the Iowa hometown of portrait artist Rose Frantzen.
And it gets better. The National Portrait Gallery shares space with the American Art Museum. As you wander the halls of the Portrait Gallery you will find yourself mistakenly wandering into a hallway belonging to the American Art Museum. Wait, did I say mistake? I wish I made mistakes like this more often. After seeing Norman Rockwell at his finest two years ago, I began wondering if I needed to reserve two spots on my number one favorite museums list. Last week my delight with this museum surpassed everything I’ve ever seen here, with the best collection of photography I have enjoyed in years as part of the African American Art: Harlem Renaissance, Civil Rights Era, and Beyond exhibit. My suspicions are officially confirmed, and I now have two number one faves.
But my favorite afternoons in Washington, DC are actually spent both inside and outside the museum on its dramatic steps in the center of Chinatown. Coincidentally – or maybe not so coincidentally – this museum joins the ranks of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Metropolitan Museum of Art with its urban proximity to the spirit of the city.
Gee, what more could I ask for? Hope you too can find your favorite places in the next city you visit.
You know those instants when the beauty of a moment transcends your eyeballs and you are actually viscerally affected by the amazingess?
On this marvelous summer day, driving the Lincoln Highway in Pennsylvania about an hour and a half outside of Pittsburgh, I experienced one of those moments. And I was so overtaken by the perfection of the world at this moment in time, that I pulled off the road and took a picture.
I only wanted to record the feeling that I was experiencing, somehow, and I was only shooting with my iPhone 3, so I wasn’t expecting anything special from the photos. I was just optimistically striving to create a visual reminder to help me pull out this memory sometime in the future.
But, I guess the amazingness of the moment not only transcended my eyeballs, but it also transcended my iPhone. By some miracle, this little butterfly entered my frame at the exact moment the shutter snapped.
I am so grateful that this instant was made immortal by this photo that lingers on in my life. I love it dearly. It now proudly represents my many trips up and down the Lincoln Highway, which to this day remains one of my favorite travel memories.
And a lesson learned – who needs the Turnpike? Slow down and take the back way. There’s probably a butterfly or two waiting for you…
The love my friend Andrew has for Jackson Hole, Wyoming, is so evident in his photography and in his stories of his adventures there. He has spent much time throughout his life in Jackson Hole, as his family has a tradition of meeting there during the summer. I asked him to share some of his photos and some history about Jackson Hole. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
A seemingly remote destination, any way you decide to set forth into Jackson Hole is an experience in itself, largely due to the amazing views and the sense of truly getting into the wild. However, when you touch down at the airport, pull into the cities of Jackson (the only incorporated town in the valley) or Teton Village (the town surrounding Jackson Hole Mountain Resort known for its steep terrain and North America’s Ski Area with the highest vertical drop), you realize there are parts of the valley that are well trodden. In the midst of the summer tourist season it is difficult to find the hidden treasures and get away from the crowds; most treasures were uncovered and marketed to the worldly tourist years ago.
The valley is popular for good reason. The splendor of the indigenous wildlife and the natural scenery is unparalleled, and even led to a conflict over the killing of elk and the use of their teeth for jewelery. This practice was outlawed by the state of Wyoming in the early 1890’s for fear of the Elk becoming extinct in the valley, which led to a conflict known as the Bannock war of 1895. Unfortunately, conflicts in the region of Wyoming were not limited to the Bannock War. The region has been a battle ground on many occasions due to the conflicting interests of ranchers, hunters and conservationists over the years.
A visit to Jackson Hole without seeing moose, deer, bison and elk is unlikely especially if you time your trip during the late summer and early fall. Bison seem ubiquitous at times; my grandmother even nicked one with her car one summer. The bison was fine. The Toyota needed a new bumper.
In addition to the splendor and largely due to the growing popularity of the area as a tourist destination, the roster of activities is large and growing. One can hike, bike, climb, fish, boat (canoe, sail, kayak, whitewater raft), paddle board, para-glide, camp, and I’ve been told the shopping is quite good if you are so inclined.
Ravenna is a small, unassuming city in the northeast Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, and is a virtual treasure trove of visual delights. Famous for its mosaics and churches, a day in Ravenna is relaxing adventure back in time, with a fabulous Italian dinner waiting for you to top it off.
Portici in Ravenna, Italy
A simple train ride from Bologna, I spent a day here last fall. My roommate Seve comes from a small city near Ravenna, and I was always curious about the city. I was not disappointed. The city is beautiful, easy to navigate, affordable, and who can beat 6th century mosaics?
More mosaics in Ravenna
For more info, check out Wiki and Wikitravel.
Here are a few of my favorite pics… Gallery:
Monique is a great friend of mine from San Diego, and also one of the most adventurous people I know. Every time I talk with her she is on another adventure, whether it be giving up everything she has and moving to Canada, breaking into the theatre scene in Portland, Oregon, or giving screenwriting a try. When I asked her what her favorite travel memory was for her contribution to our traveler page, this is the memory that she included. She was so specific with everything she loved about Santos, that I asked her to write a post about it. Thanks Monique!
This is a story about one of my favorite trips to Santos, Brazil. Several years ago I played capoeira and my teacher took a few of us to his home town in Santos. We stayed at a cute little hotel run by one of his friends. We got breakfast every morning complete with fresh fruit and juices. It was right around the corner from an arboretom, Orquidário de Santos and a short walk to the beach.
We went to the beach nearly ever day. I’d always have to stop for fresh squeezed sugar cane juice from a vendor parked next to the beach bike path. We felt spoiled laying out in the sun, with vendors getting us anything we needed: food, drinks (alcohol included), umbrellas, and chairs. One of my teacher’s friends was a pro surfer that started the first surf school in Santos. People would donate old equipment so kids could have something to learn on. He also made surf boards at the school. We had a couple of lessons and I learned how to surf for the first time!
The main purpose of the trip was to visit his teacher’s studio as well as a couple of other studios, but we hardly spent any time playing. Instead we were at the beach, shopping, sightseeing and just enjoying the people. My teacher is well-known in his city and we couldn’t go anywhere without someone calling out to say hi to him. That also meant we met a lot of fun people who took care of us and showed us around. I started getting recognized and people would wave hello to me. I was becoming a local.
One Saturday night we went to an amazing fish dinner. We crossed the water in little ferry boats to favelas on an island. It took place in this large backyard of a family. They sold tickets which included the meal, as well as live music and dancing. In the back were a few vendors selling jewelry. I bought one of my favorite bracelets from a nice lady that made it by hand. The next week I saw her as we came out of a little shopping center in Gonzaga. She greeted me as if I was an old friend she hadn’t seen for a while.
We did quite a bit of sight-seeing, including visiting São Vicente. We got in an ample amount of dancing, videoke, and live music. On my last night there, we danced the night away at a club on this small island just off the coast. The view was amazing!
The trip was just so much fun. I could easily see myself staying there. Did I mention how beautiful it was and the abundance of fresh fruit? Needless to say I cried when I boarded the bus to come home.
