Spending Valentine’s Day in Venice

Here’s an odd piece of advice if you’re looking for romance in Venice: don’t rely on finding it via a gondola ride. Despite the boats looking so elegant from the shore, the experience on board isn’t quite the intimate interlude it’s cracked up to be. Forget privacy, for starters: gawkers on bridges will peer at you throughout, and your ‘just the two of us’ moment will be captured (in blurred form) in a million unsolicited holiday snapshots. Combine that with your choppy navigation of all the other couple-stuffed gondolas on the Grand Canal, and the 40-minute ride’s price (€80 – some unscrupulous types might try to charge more) and you’re looking at rather a disappointing romantic highlight.

Venice is a beautiful city by anyone’s standards, with palazzos and churches resembling illustrations cut from a book of fairy tales. You can have a really romantic time here – but it’s worth remembering that the most prescribed experiences usually aren’t the best. Below, we list a mix of things to do with your loved one in Venice, from the touristy stuff that’s worth it to some off-the-beaten-track things you might not have thought of…

Things to do on a romantic trip to Venice

Dancing in St. Mark’s Square by night

St. Mark’s Square is Venice’s historic heart and soul, holding three of its most-loved attractions in one spot: St. Mark’s Basilica, the Campanile (the bell tower in front of the basilica) and the Doge’s Palace (or Palazzo Ducale, the ancient home of Venetian ruling power, now a museum) next door to the square. St. Mark’s draws huge crowds, so go at night when the cruise ship day-trippers are safely back in their cabins and enjoy the illuminated buildings and the soft strains of café orchestras. For extra romance brownie points, grab your sweetie for an impromptu dance under the moon.

Walk over the Bridge of Sighs

The Ponte dei Sospiri or ‘Bridge of Sighs’ is one of the most beautiful sights in Venice, a Baroque limestone bridge connecting ancient prison cells with the Doge’s Palace interrogation rooms. Lord Byron christened it so because its view would be the last picture of Venice convicts would see before imprisonment and a probable death sentence. While the truth is decidedly less romantic – the view isn’t much cop from the barred windows, and the days of executions were over by the time the bridge was built – the name has stuck as a byword for the sweeping reaction the city induces in even the hardest of hearts. Walk over the Bridge of Sighs hand-in-hand with your loved one while you visit the Doge’s palace – entry costs a reasonable €13 for the 1000 years of history you’ll discover within its walls.

Eat seafood

Venice is a seafood city, with traditional Venetian dishes including roasted eel, creamed or dried cod and clams with parsley. If you’re not a fish-fan, you can still eat well – try meatballs, pea risotto or veal liver stewed in onions. Couples visiting Venice are often lured into having a bad meal via the island’s deluge of tourist-trap restaurants. To avoid these, leave the crowds and take a wander down less well-known alleys – here lay the places to stumble across the real deal in Venetian cooking. Also beware of restaurants where any of the following occur: they advertise ‘typical’ Italian but non-native dishes like pizza; their menus come in five different languages in plastic binders; or you can only see tourists eating inside.

Visit an island: Murano, Torcello or Burano

If you feel like a change, visiting another island in the Venice lagoon can make for a super-romantic daytrip. Murano, home of Murano glass, is the closest, most famous– but if you’ve never seen glass blown before it can be great fun to join the crowds for a demonstration. To save on money, catch a vaporetto over and take a stroll through the town’s winding, cobbled alleys. You don’t have to tag on to the end of a massive tour – simply keep your eyes open and before long you should find a smaller open studio doing free glass-blowing demos. While you’re there, you can also ooh and ahh at the beautiful displays at the Glass Museum.

Murano feeling too crowded? Head a bit further out into the lagoon and you’ll arrive at Burano, which still sees a healthy flow of visitors but in nowhere near as overwhelming volumes. With its colourful houses and speciality lace-making boutiques, it feels pretty and quirky: the perfect place for a romantic stroll. Torcello, the furthest island from Venice city, is the quietest: most of the land is a nature reserve.

Looking for a place to stay on Valentine’s Day?

Check out the list of cheap hotels in Venice on HostelBookers.com.

**Guest post provided by HostelBookers.com, affordable hostels in numerous  destinations, including Venice, with free booking and no worries.

To this day, I remember my first Epcot journey; it was a place of wonder and sensory overload. Raised in a small town in the Midwest, it was a trip of many firsts. It was my first monorail ride, my first Mexican meal, and my first tour with a passport. All of these firsts, I embraced with no fear, wanting more, and just plain wide-eyed wanderlust.

This is why it is no surprise that I eventually traveled, lived abroad, have always had an insatiable thirst for adventure, and would like to include being an ex-pat in my list of accomplishments. Now, almost 3 decades after my first visit to Epcot with a list of travels longer than the list of countries in Epcot, the 2nd time around was not as wondrous. Indeed, it was enjoyable for reflect on the previous trip as well as a way to rekindle memories of my past travels to those countries visited outside of Epcot.

While walking through Mexico and hearing a mariachi band, I remembered my fond and multiple visits to Zuhauntanejo as well as Cozumel and Puerto Vallarta. As we crossed into Great Britian, I remember the week of very foggy days that London greeted me with in November 2008. In Germany, I could not forget one of the best beer cheese soups I’ve ever enjoyed as well as numerous mysterious schnitzels. In France, I remembered my multiple visits to the capital with trips up the stairs of the Eiffel Tower, a handful of visits to the Louvre only to be disappointed by the Mona Lisa, sugar crepes on the banks of the Seine, and of course French bakeries. Lastly, while passing through Morocco, I remembered the mint tea, souks, tagines, camels, and camping in the Sahara (passing through Epcot’s Morocco right).

Although my second visit of Epcot was not as eye-opening, I have to say thank you to Walt Disney. Both times you inspired me. The first was to travel. The second was to remember my travels and to continue to explore. I end with a quote from Walt Disney,

“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”

Here’s to more good times and good stories.

Having already conquered the Spartan Race in Miami in the Spring. I had an idea of what I had signed up for; thus, I prepared with a well broken in pair of tennis shoes, pink, power bandana, leggings and top that would not show the dirt, and a fearless attitude. Well-equipped, I along with about 500 other warriors in my afternoon heat set out for a 3.1 mile course through the Quiet Waters State Park to conquer 12 obstacles. With a previous race under my belt, I knew that starting fast would not be the strategy as everyone would catch up to one another at the obstacles. Some would succeed at the running, others at the obstacles with some very fortunate ones that succeed at both. The obstacle line up was intense with:

1. Rubber Ricochet (running through a maze of swinging tires)
2. Road Rage (running and climbing over various abandoned, vandalized cars)
3. Giant Cliffhanger (climbing a steep wall with a rope with slippery, muddy surface)
4. Deadman’s Drop (climb over a laddered wall to throw yourself over to rope repel down)
5. Chaotic Crossover (climbing across various tangled rope netted stages)
6. Muddy Waters (crossing through a swamp-like river to other half of the race)
7. Storming Normandy (crawling through tunnels and shimmying underneath a net to safety)
8. Great Warrior Wall (another wall, yet taller with rope to top and jump down)
9. Vertical Limit (climbing a muddy rock climbing wall and sliding down a fireman’s pole)
10. Cargo Climb (climb up and over with cargo netting)
11. Warrior Roast (jumping over fire and pictured above)
12. Muddy Mayhem (belly first into a muddy pit to shimmy below barbed wire)

All of that in order to run across the finish line, where you ask yourself, “do I want to shower off first or grab my free beer for returning my timing chip in my shoe?” I chose to get hosed off by not one but two water trucks, which didn’t even scratch the surface of the muddy mess that was in my hair, socks, sports bra, and places you didn’t think you could get dirt. Regardless, after a couple rinses and a costume change, my other warriors and I put on our Viking-esque hats, saddled up for big beers, and gnawed turkey legs the size of a man’s arm.

As always, I hate to dash off, but I fear that there are more good times and good stories to be experienced and told.

Here’s to more good times and good stories in 2012 and beyond!

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Had the thought entered my mind to hang glide before? I guess I had toyed with the idea when in the Andes in early 2011, but I decided to ride horses, hike, raft class 4 whitewater rapids, and drink Malbec instead. But, kinda like a bad penny this experience appeared again AND this time I couldn’t miss it.

As Florida’s topography is not hilly without any cliffs, bluffs, or other to jump from, the only option for hang gliding is through towing. After arriving at the small, grass airfield, I was strapped into the tandem rigged hang glider. My instructor and guide was strapped below me in a “body hammock” and I above with my own hammock. Both were equipped with helmets and one parachute to be shared in the case of a hiccup.

Ready to go, we connected our line to the back of an ultralight plane. The plane began to take off; we rolled; and we took off just slightly before the plane as we were much lighter. Little by little the orange groves, trees, and airfield got smaller while our height climbed to 2,500 feet.  At just about ½ mile in the air, we “cut the cord” or released from the ultralight and began to soar on our own. Controlled by just a shift in body weight from side to side was all that was needed to guide the glider. At times a pull or push with both hands would increase or decrease our speed, but once content with the direction and speed, we let go. Yes, mom I did it with NO hands.

See this good time and good story via video below:

Where or What Next?

It’s anybody’s guess, but I can bet it will be either a good time, good story, or both!

Ms Traveling Pants Celebrates 3rd Anniversary!

Yes it has been 3 years, 156 weeks, 1,095 days and most importantly 100+ posts since I began.

To celebrate in recap format, here’s a list of my most memorable posts:

Christmas Eve in a Brothel – Turkey

Skydiving in South Florida – USA

South American Walkabout – Chile and Argentina

Glow Swimming – Puerto Rico

Scaling the Coliseum Walls – Italy

Here’s to many more good times and good stories.

Every once in awhile, one needs to look at the world from a different perspective. With that said, I have taken that advice to heart and made a celebration, Look Up Day.  Held on the 27th of every month for nearly two years, some priceless perspective has been gained. Traditionally, taking a breath or a long walk may spur perspective, but I have chosen other methods, including: skydiving, SCUBA diving, climbing Torres del Paine in Chile, or learning to fly a Cesna.

This past week, I took another look at something I did over twenty years ago in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, as part of Look Up Day.

Here’s my Take 2 on parasailing:

I’d give it two thumbs up! It is one of the best views of the ocean and absolutely peaceful. Unlike most adventurous activities, there were no nerves, jitters, or even a little turbulence during flight. Yes, I did scream, but not for fear, sheer fun. Although, I wasn’t as free as a bird with the harness around my legs and strapped to my PIC (Partner In Crime), it was yet another carefree, epic experience.

In comparison to my first time, where I took off and landed at the beach solo, this time I did a tandem parasail and off the stern of a boat. I guess over the last 20 years, the safety of parasailing has improved tremendously. The crew told us many stories of beach takeoffs and landings gone wrong. I thank my lucky stars that I have walked away thoroughly delighted with an ear to ear grin from both of my experiences.

So before you get bogged down by the little things or have that one last straw break your back, take the time to celebrate either with me  on the 27th for Look Up Day or another day. Through parasailing, diving, traveling, or your own unique way, you will see that those small things, which I refer to as “small potatoes,” are just that little stuff, albeit annoying, stressful, or other.

Here’s to perspective with always a large helping of good times and good stories!

Located in western Wisconsin or as some say, just off the coast of Minnesota, this Mississippi river town is where I spent most of early years. I try to return once a year, typically during the summer as I lost all my Wisconsinite stoicness years ago. And, this year was no different; I arrived to a hot, humid week but happily greeted by familiar faces, sights, smells, and tastes as of years past.

One difference this year was an enticing offer from a buddy or PIC (Partner In Crime) to do a 25 mile bike race during the annual festival, Catfish Days. Not packing my light, current hybrid bike that I use in South Florida, I was put to the test to find a suitable bike. I stumbled upon a family friend that loaned me a retro, red Spirit bike, which was a little heavier than my daily ride. And so, my PIC and I nicknamed my bike, Bertha.

Fueled by a night before feeding of every bicyclist’s favorite meal, cheese curds and a few Spotted Cows or Leinies, my PIC and I headed out early (8 a.m.) from the Trempealeau Hotel through Perrot State Park. We cruised alongside fields of corn, soybeans, and the like just in time to get misted by the irrigation systems, which was needed to compensate for the mid-summer heat, cut with a knife humidity, and bugs. The Tour de Trempealeau certainly was a jog down memory lane as I passed former employers, friends’ homes, familiar country roads, places where I got stuck in the ditch during one of the umpteen winter snowstorms survived, and my favorite hiking trail, Brady’s Bluff.

Were two wheels better than four? Absolutely! I think that a 25 mile bike ride followed by walnut balls, good company, and a sunset gab session certainly met the criteria for the beer slogan, “It just doesn’t get any better than this.” If you doubt it, check out the finale of my Tour de Trempealeau:

Here’s to more good times and good stories!

Learning to fly a helicopter

Paddleboarding

Flying a plane

Jumping out of a perfectly good plane – Skydiving

And, as the title suggests,

I did them all MY WAY.

With the list continuing to grow, I have added yet another virgin ride.  To appease many of my worry warts, I stayed put on the ground. In fact, I even remained on two wheels, but as you can see from the post’s image that I had to push the limits a bit; “Look Ma no hands!”

After hearing stories and positive feedback from my circle of adventurous types, I navigated my way from Fort Lauderdale to Palm Beach to ride the famous Segways that I have been dodging for years throughout my “by foot” travels. Finally, I tested the tourist toy that has taken the world by storm, the Segway.

The tour was led by Palm Beach Segway Tours. Our ride started on Clematis Street with the route winding through the downtown to over the Intercoastal waterway into wealthy Palm Beach, along homes owned by Jimmy Buffet, Henry Flagler, and numerous “other halfers.”

I have to say I’m a natural at maneuvering most types of vehicles, but this was a little tricky. My pilates classes and paddleboarding came in handy as a Segway requires balance. One drives the Segway by pointing and flexing one’s feet. Then the steering of the vehicle is owned by your hands. I have to say after having driven planes, choppers, boats, cars from Honda to Lamborghini, this mode was difficult to gage the width of the vehicle because it’s a human size, but wider than you expect to turn corners and more.

We did have the opportunity to not only go without hands, but do some stunts. As I was a novice and my PIC was a veteran on Segways and not afraid of heights because he is a pilot, we attempted going down stairs. I was reluctant, but as in most other cases, I was motivated by competition. With a little coaching, I was able to conquer a 4 step staircase onto the boardwalk.

I would like to note that although you don’t need to physically push the Segway or peddle it, it is demanding. The following day, I was tired. Also, during the ride, my feet went asleep. It requires a good center of balance, directional skills, and perhaps a part of you that wants to let go.

With that said, I entitled the post “I Did it My Way – Touring Palm Beach via Segway.” I wanted to reiterate that I believe that every occasion in life may be a good time or a good story, which is exactly what “My Way” communicates with the pluses, minuses, and bonuses that we reach in all of our lives. This Segway ride was yet another way for me to test the waters and live in the moment. So, get on one and experience the tingling, almost asleep foot and unbalanced sensation yourself.

Please keep me posted on you adventures either Segway or otherwise. I close this post with a little of “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. Here’s to good times and good stories!

After three days of waiting with rainy New England weather, it was time to hit the trails and burn off some of mom’s home cooking with or without my hiking boots. With some research of the easy, moderate, and advanced trails in the area, I picked a “moderate” hike to 3,165 feet that was supposed to take three hours round-trip. In hindsight, I think that the hiking guide writers and bloggers need to reevaluate the classification of this hike. There were many portions of this rocky, wet trail that were certainly advanced. However, if there weren’t challenges and obstacles the hike would not have been such a good time or now good story.

At the beginning of the hike, we both look ready, dry, and confident. Receiving advice to take the White Dot Trail up and the White Cross Trail down, we followed willingly like lemmings behind families with small children, packs of athletic college students, and older veterans of the trail with hiking sticks.

We quickly realized that breaks would be necessary to reach the summit. With the trails heading straight up the mountain, all punctuated with rocks, boulders, and pure straight rock face to encounter, it was NOT a Sunday stroll nor hike. Fueled by nuts, biscotti, fruit, and pub cheese sandwiches, we both trekked on. (**We later found out that Monadnock is in dictionaries as a mountain or rocky mass that has resisted erosion and stands isolated in an essentially level area. The word is named after this Mount Monadnock in NH!)

After two and a half hours into the supposed “three hour round-trip” hike, we arrived at a glorious lookout (featured at the beginning of the post) only to see in the distance dozens of other adventurous hikers climbing even higher to reach the top of mighty Mount Monadnock. With the compelling desire to turn around and go to a spa for a pedicure and massage, we continued ahead for bragging rights and yet another feather in our hats.

Upon reaching the summit, we realized that we were not far from the clouds and stormy ones at that. The panoramic view was spectacular as well as a rest very welcomed. However, the summit stop was shortened with raindrops. Both leery of going straight down on wet and even more slippery rocks, we quickly added a bite or two into our stomachs and started the descent.

Although hiking up Monadnock was much work because of its elevation; it cannot compare to the impact and treacherous climb or stumble down. Both of our knees, muscles, and joints began talking to us, first very quietly, but by the end screaming for an ibuprofen. The rain and moisture made the White Cross Trail more like a mountain stream than a trail. My shoes and clothes were thoroughly soaked as each step I felt like a sponge. In spite of the rocks, difficult ascent and descent, and rain, we both had no falls, but numerous near falls.

After a five hour hike up and down Monadnock, my mom stated, “I think this is something I will only do once.” I thought the hike was certainly challenging and my body didn’t forgive me for the next two days. So, I can definitely understand why the gift shop was selling various t-shirts, pens, magnets, and more that stated, “I survived Mount Monadnock.” (Like the Mount Monadnock’s page on Facebook, here.)

Will I go again? If given the opportunity, I certainly will seize it. Until then, here’s to more good times and good stories.

I’ve created a poll that you can assist in tipping the scales for one destination or the other. As is typical, when I am given many options, the decision is that much more difficult; so, I have limited the Wanderlust List to only 5 spectacular locations, thinking that some of my fellow adventureros would be similar with a buffet of destinations.

Here they are:

Machu Picchu, Bali, Grand Canyon, New Zealand, Australia

Click on the link below to assist in my next trek, dive, kayaking trip, first surf, or virgin burro ride.

Poll: Where should Ms Traveling Pants go for her Next Walkabout?

Here’s to good times and good stories wherever this poll takes me.