The first time Marissa and I took a babymoon–that trip before the sleepless nights began–we were expecting our first child. This time around, with Marissa six-months pregnant with child number two, our toddler was waking up some time between 1:30 AM and dawn. So while the first babymoon demanded luxury and beaches and long journeys to exotic lands, this time we couldn’t fathom driving farther than Connecticut.
My day began with a bad hotel breakfast in the city. Runny eggs, tasteless pancakes, and pulverized fruit. I got into my car and drove east to the mountains, just a 45-minute drive from downtown Quebec City. The St. Lawrence River on my right; its chop was frozen in the surface like glassed swells. Read more
(Note: This piece was originally published in an in-flight magazine. After I had read and approved the final version, someone decided to change direct quotes, armed only with a thesaurus. For example, the forager I was traveling with said, “I love to caper [a specific flower bud].” That was, for some reason, changed to “I love snatch them.” Since I loved the story and want to correct the record, here’s the story about foraging Aruba (with my original language). There will be capers and capering, and snatching, too, but in the correct contexts.)
When people reconnect to the places that they had visited, perhaps they recall a panorama or an encounter with a local, a new adventure explored or a cultural performance experienced. For me it’s usually a dish. On my visit to Hawaii, when I had visited Oahu, Maui, and the Big Island, the three dishes that continue to bring me back to those distant islands are served below. Read more
After spending a few weeks on the Hawaiian Islands, jumping from hotel to hotel, only three properties seemed to pay any attention to parents struggling along with kids. While some properties on this list below are family-focused, even one adult getaway employed secret tactics to impress those traveling with kids.