Greensburg, Kansas

I was just in Kansas on a two-day work trip, specifically to visit the town of Greensburg, population 900.  While I was at a loss to find a French connection there, I thoroughly enjoyed the charm, warmth, and friendliness that one finds in rural America.  But maybe that's the connection: Some would argue that in both the United States and France it's the small towns and villages that have the most welcoming citizens.  In any case, this was one small town (with a compelling story) that I won't soon forget.

Seattle's Coffee Culture

In Seattle, coffee is King, and it's sold everywhere: in roadside stands, out of window cafés that line the sidewalks, at gas station drive-thrus, and yes, in Starbucks. Lots and lots of Starbucks, but also Seattle's Best, Tully's, Specialty's Café and Bakery, (their cinnamon and sugar morning bread is to die for...as is their café au lait), and countless other independent and chain establishments. Coffee might have originated in Ethiopia, but its ubiquitous use was surely perfected in the Pacific Northwest.

In fact, I heard the term "coffee culture" used multiple times during my visit to Seattle, and soon learned that the culture is contagious. This special-occasion coffee drinker (read: weekends, after dinner in Paris, particularly rough Mondays) found herself rushing out every morning to get the first caffeine fix of the day. It was more than just a desire to drink coffee, it was a need. I had to have it! I didn't realize how sucked in I had become until my last day in Seattle when I somehow managed to pull myself out of a coffee craving long enough to remember how I normally function just find without chain-drinking cups of joe. Why was I so obsessed with it now? Oh. Right. Coffee culture.

Did Seattle's coffee culture begin with the creation of the first Starbucks, which opened in 1971 across from Seattle's famed Pike Place Market? Does it have anything to do with the region's cool, rainy weather and its accompanying desire for warm, comforting beverages? Or is it due to something else entirely?  If you're from Seattle and you have the answer, please share!

Bainbridge Island Hopping

It's not the Greek Isles, which have been at the top of my travel wish list for years, but Bainbridge Island is a tranquil getaway in its own right.  Three trusted sources suggested I visit Bainbridge during my five-day trip to Seattle, so although boats and I generally don't get along (I'll spare you the unflattering details of a certain Winter 2004 sail to Ireland's Aran Islands), I decided to go for it.

Heading out under rain-threatening skies early this morning I paid the $6.90 round trip fare and boarded a surprisingly massive ferry from Seattle's Pier 52.  The 35 minute ride flew by.  Open decks provided stunning, albeit cold, views of Puget Sound, Seattle's skyline, gliding seagulls, cruise ships, and my island destination.  I found that the best place to meet fellow travelers is on the top passenger deck at the front of the ferry.  There aren't many who are willing to brave this location's brisk headwinds and occasional biting rain, but those who are willing are eager to meet their fellow view-seekers. 

Once you land on Bainbridge Island it's only a 5-minute walk (follow the salmon!) to the main shopping and dining area.  A few brunch spots were already hopping.  Other establishments were still closed, so I'll have to go back if I want to browse the clothing boutiques or follow the island's wine-tasting trail.  Bainbridge is an easy day trip from Seattle, but it would also make a nice main vacation destination of its own - a quiet place to get away from it all and enjoy the good life of food, drink, and relaxing by the water's edge.  Sort of like Greece.  Without the bikini weather. 

Taking Amtrak

Americans who have spent time in Europe often lament the lack of convenient, high-speed and far-reaching rail service in their own country.  Eurail passes in hand, they've sprinted from London to Paris to Rome quickly and cheaply and wonder why they can't do the same from New York City to Chicago to Los Angeles.  The United States' used to be a world leader in railroads (see the 1800s), but today's network of trains in the New World is nowhere near as developed as it is across the Atlantic.  Nevertheless, options for train travel do exist, and I often wonder if we Americans think we don't have access to trains simply because we're not trying hard enough.  We've all heard of Amtrak, for example, but how many of us have actually used it? 

Until today, I was one of those Americans who had heard of Amtrak but never used it.  In fact, I had never even seriously considered using it before New York City-based colleagues told me to head up to my temporary summer assignment by heading to Washington, D.C.'s Union Station to buy a train ticket.  So, here I am, writing this blog from the comfort of Amtrak's Acela Express with service to Wilmington, Philadelphia, New York City, Boston, and a few other stops in between.  First impressions are important, and Amtrak has certainly passed the test.  Purchasing my ticket was a breeze (I used an automated machine at the station), the train staff is friendly and helpful (lots of "good mornings" and other pleasantries), and the train itself is comfortable and practical (loads of leg room and free wifi).

This train won't travel at the same speeds of, say, France's TGV - a technological marvel that can zip you from city to city at up to 320 kilometers per hour (199 miles per hour) - but, depending on your route and desired time frame, it's a decent alternative to flying.  I left Washington at 9:00 a.m. and can expect to arrive at Penn Station by 11:46 a.m.  It's a longer trip than by plane, but if you factor in the time it takes to check in at the airport, go through security, taxi around runways, wait for your bags, and travel from an airport to the city center, you're looking at an overall comparable time table.  Not to mention the superior comfort of a train, which can offer leg room, urban and countryside views, and the ability to travel with liquids that are larger than 3 ounces and not shoved into a tiny Ziploc bag.

Longer distances in the U.S. are still more manageable by plane.  Taking Amtrak from Washington, D.C. to Chicago will only run you $163 (my trip to NYC is $180, prices can vary), but the journey will take nearly 24 hours.  That's great if you have the time to enjoy a leisurely cross-country adventure, but the two-hour plane ride is more practical if you need to get there now.  Still, I can't help but wonder what would happen if Americans gave this travel option more of a chance.  We do have rails in the U.S., and maybe they're exactly what we need to relax and rediscover the simple pleasures of "getting there," by train, just like we did in Europe.

New York, New York

Earlier this year I outlined a small list of travel goals for 2010. It was to be the year of the vacation, with a trip to L.A. in March (done) and big hopes for a trip to Greece. Unfortunately, just as the euro is becoming favorable to Americans, my dream of Greece is slipping away into the abyss of too little vacation time and too many other commitments. Fortunately, I'm on track to realize a travel goal from 2009: New York City. Even better, this trip to The Big Apple is going to be more than just a weekend destination, it’s going to be my home for three whole months.


That’s right: I’m moving to NYC. Much like it sent me to Brussels back in August, work is sending me on temporary assignment to Manhattan, starting June 1st. When I’m not working, I hope to be exploring neighborhoods, checking out the restaurant scene, catching up with NYC-based friends, and sniffing around for anything having to do with Paris, France, or French culture. I don’t know much about NYC, having only visited twice for a total of three days time, but I do know that those visits left me wanting more.

So, I find myself in a very familiar situation, and one many of you know as well: running around like crazy trying to get everything ready for the move. Thankfully, the excitement of setting out on a new trip that will be filled with new adventures hasn't worn off. I've done it time and time again, and it still leaves me giddy with anticipation.

Wine Tasting in Santa Barbara County

Are you a wine snob? Do you only drink Grand crus? Do you scoff at New World wines? Does anything this side of a St. Émilion taste like vinegar to your sensible palate?

I never considered myself to be a wine snob, but I fully admit to having previously possessed some very biased feelings toward le vin français. It’s not that I refused to drink anything other than French wine, or even thought that non-French varietals couldn’t be delicious. It’s just that I largely preferred to drink wines from Burgundy rather than Tuscany. Given the choice, I would take a Champagne over a Cava any day. And I definitely didn’t have many nice things to say about wines from my own country. Let's just say I had never met a California wine I enjoyed.

But a trip to Santa Barbara County changed all that. Lining up tastings at two different wineries – Tres Hermanas and Riverbench - I went into the experiences with an open mind. More than that, I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised; hoping that I had been unfairly judging CA wines all this time. The first sip sealed the deal. It was a Riesling/Gewürztraminer blend that was so crisp, clean, and delicious that I couldn't believe my taste buds. Riverbench had a pair of Chardonnays that made me realize, yes, I actually do like Chardonnays. After the extensive tastings were done, and we had sufficiently chatted up the friendly and knowledgeable winery owners, I had a shipment of both wines crossing the country on its way to chez moi.


Maybe I thought I didn't like CA wines because the good CA wines simply aren’t making their way into grocery stores. Tres Hermanas, for example, is a small producer with only about 3500 cases produced per year. I imagine most of those wines stay in the surrounding area, or are picked up by wine tourists, but they certainly aren’t making it all the way to my neighborhood on any kind of regular basis. So while I’ll never, ever take a Barefoot Cellars over a Vouvray, I will sing the praises of both Tres Hermanas and Riverbench wines. And I will hope there are many more non-French wineries like theirs to discover. The only question that remains is when do I get to visit Napa?

If you go:

Tres Hermanas

Owners Paulette and Marvin Teixeira are très cool. Ask to take a peek around the grounds, as they also rent out space for events.

9660 Foxen Canyon Road
Santa Maria, CA
805-937-8451
info@treshermanaswinery.com

Riverbench

Sip wines in this historic California ranch home, which has been so gorgeously remodeled you'll want to move in immediately. Be sure to taste their One Palm Pinot Noir, named for - you guessed it - the lone palm tree in the front yard.

Riverbench Vineyard & Winery
6020 Foxen Canyon Road
Santa Maria, CA
805-937-8430
info@riverbench.com

Winners and Losers

You can’t escape Oscar fever in Los Angeles. Even the flower stand at the neighborhood market I visited the day before the big ceremony was getting into the action with a special Oscar contest. Simply fill out a ballot of the most popular categories (think Best Actress, not Best Live Action Short Film), and the top 10 predictors win a dozen roses. As I turned mine in (with France’s Un Prophète selected to win Best Foreign Language Film, of course), I jokingly told the vendor he had the winning ballot right here.

Sure, I had made an effort to see as many Oscar films as possible in the run-up to my trip, but I know as much about film as someone who lives in L.A. probably knows about pocket vetoes. So imagine my surprise when I received a voice mail from the flower stand telling me I had indeed won the dozen roses and would I kindly stop by to collect them sometime in the next three months. Chouette!!!

But wait, when did I receive this voice mail? Mais, oui…When I checked my phone after landing at Dulles International Airport in Washington, DC.

L.A. Photo Blog

After a glorious week on the sunny West Coast, I returned to the dreary East Coast yesterday with great memories, a slight tan (!), a few bottles of Santa Barbara County wine, and a new collection of travel photos. In the coming weeks I'll write about my long-awaited vacation (including, of course, its French connections), but for now I'll simply leave you with CA in pictures.

En Vacances

I am on vacation. An honest-to-gosh, real, serious, vacation, which I define as 7 or more days and nights that do not involve going home, checking work email, or doing anything that you don't want to do. Long weekends don't count. Not even six months in Paris or Brussels counts, unless you spend six months without homework or a job. By my own definition of a real vacation, I have not taken one since January 2005, when someone's destination wedding took me to the Dominican Republic.

Why the five year drought? Because the past five years have been spent on grad school, studying abroad, starting a new career, and the minimal cash flow that accompanies all of those life events. But times have changed, and so here I am: In sunny Los Angeles for 10 days, 9 nights of honest-to-gosh, real, serious vacationing.

Today was the first day of The Vacation, and it started with a trip to Lamill Coffee for an organic cup of joe and the best brioche doughnut holes you have ever tasted. It was at this moment when I realized Parisian Spring might need a vacation too. So, while I know this trip will give me lots of ideas for blog entries, I'm going to try to disconnect my life for a few days and save those entries for when I return to the real world. After all, when a real vacation only comes around once every five years, maybe you should try to make it count.

À la semaine prochaine!

Chicagoland

Chicago is nothing if not a land of nicknames. The Windy City, Second City, and Chi-Town are some of the most common local monikers, and a Wikipedia search for "Chicago nicknames" even turned up "Paris on the Prairie," which was used in a 1909 city planning document. I always knew I liked this place. Growing up in nearby Minnesota, the nation's third-largest city was a frequent destination for trips with friends and family. Now I'm back, and realizing already that Chicago is going to be a tough town to have to leave.

I arrived here yesterday evening to attend a blogging conference (yes, they have those) and promptly set out to explore a bit on foot. One of the first things that struck me was how tall the buildings were. DC is a relatively small town that doesn't have any skyscrapers. Zero, ziltch, not even a single big, ugly disastrous one like Paris has. Walking around downtown Chicago reminded me how much I love the feeling of being in a city that makes you feel small. In an odd way, it makes everything seem heightened, more exciting, even sexier. What's more, Chicago's buildings are a visually striking mix of the old and the new, where some towers' modern glass façades reflect their stone counterparts who seem to recall the age of the great American industrialists.

Nicknames and skyscrapers aside, Chicago has something extra that makes me love it. Only here, right in the middle of flyover land, do you get all the big city excitement without any of the usually accompanying big city pretension. Chicago is relaxed, it's citizens are Midwest friendly, and you can simply come as you are. It might sound strange, but this city actually feels content. It knows it's not a coastal powerhouse (unless you count the fact that it's on one of the Great Lakes), and it couldn't care less. Let New York and Los Angeles get all the international fame and domestic glory! Chicagoland is happy right where it is, and so am I.

Fast Travel in Vegas

A lot of travelers would say that when it comes to visiting far away places the longer the stay the better. Some of us like like taking our time to become familiar with our surroundings and to learn about the local culture, customs and maybe even the language. We want to feel like we actually live there. I agree wholeheartedly with this assertion. In my opinion, slow travel , while not always possible, is highly desirable. This approach has worked for me in France, and I'm giddy about my upcoming chance to employ it in Belgium. But while taking your time in a new city or country is often a good idea, there's at least one location on Earth where this travel wisdom doesn't hold true: Las Vegas, Nevada. As anyone who has been there for a family vacation, a girls' weekend/guys' getaway, or a romantic trip for two can tell you, when it comes to Vegas, less is generally more.


The best way to describe Las Vegas is as a 24-hour Disney World for adults. There is no shortage of fun to be had: Great restaurants, exciting casino floors, dazzling shows, and swank dance clubs all conspire to ensure you have a non-stop, thrilling visit. Unfortunately, along with the fun comes all manner of human vice. Sex, drugs, gambling, gluttony, alcohol...you name it and Vegas has got it to the extreme. Even if you don't partake heavily in any of them, you can't help but feel their influence on you. There are all-you-can-eat buffets, people losing their money and them some at the tables, and advertisements for girls!girls!girls littering the streets. In my experience, Vegas has a shelf life of approximately 48 hours.

Don't get me wrong, I love Vegas. Last weekend was my third trip to Sin City and I've had a fabulous, exceeds expectations time on each and every occasion. Nevertheless, you get to a point where enough is enough. I think I reached that point last weekend when the front page of my Sunday paper featured a shooting at a strip club and the results of the UFC 100 match rather than President Obama's latest initiative or the state of the global economy. It was time to leave Vegas World and find my way back to reality, but I'll definitely be back again someday. Not so I can have a deeply rich and life-changing cultural experience, or anything. Just so I can enjoy my 48 hours of fun.