Come Thirsty

Just in case I had forgotten that I now live in the Land of Beer, Brussels was nice enough to hold its 11th annual beer festival last weekend. For three days, over 40 Belgian breweries poured dozens of their finest pils, amber, lambiek and trappist creations, right in the middle of the city's famous Grande Place. The tents and tables were already bursting at the seams with merry revelers when we passed through the square at noon. A few short hours later and you could barely walk from one end to the other without getting bowled over by the crowd. Musicians entertained the drinkers, vendors sold food to the hungry, and just in case you had forgotten how beer is made, the Belgians were nice enough to post this informative reminder.

The Best Frites in Brussels

As the story goes, French fries aren’t really French, they’re Belgian. Accounts differ on where and when fried slices of potatoes first entered the human diet, but since the French themselves think of fries and Belgian, and since fries are undoubtedly the country’s national snack, I’m happy to give this one to les Belges. Friteries (take-away French fry stands) are everywhere in Brussels, but most people will tell you that the city’s best frites (the French word for "fries") are at Maison Antoine. In the name of travel research, and because I have a weakness for anything fried and salty, I decided to see for myself what everyone was raving about.

Maison Antoine is located in the middle of Place Jourdan, a small square surrounded by bars and restaurants that is just east of the city center. The first thing you notice when you arrive is the line. Be prepared: at night, it’s not unusual to have to wait in line for 20-30 minutes for your chance to order a petites or grandes frites. But don’t let that stop you; the wait is more than worth it. Part of the reason why Maison Antoine’s fries are so good is that they’re double-cooked. First the fries are blanched at a low temperature. This ensures that the inside of the thick-cut potatoes will be soft and cooked all the way through. Then, when you place your order, they're deep fried at a high temperature which gives them a crispy, golden-brown exterior. Add just a dash of salt, dip them in one of Maison Antoine’s fry sauces (I recommend “curry”), and eat what I think truly are the best fries you’ll ever had.

Of course, nothing washes down a cone of salty fries quite like a glass of cold beer, but don’t worry about having to plan ahead to BYOB. Some of the bars that surround Place Jourdan know a lucrative combination when they see one, declaring themselves “partenaires,” or partners, of Maison Antoine. This means you’re welcome to bring your fries into the bar, order a delicious Belgian beer, and enjoy the two together. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Timing is Everything

It’s a conundrum all travelers will eventually have to face: book early, or wait to the last minute? Which form of trip planning will give you the best deals? There are those who swear it’s the early bird who catches the worm, while others will tell you it’s the last minute purchases that offer the biggest travel savings. As far as I’m concerned, both options can work to your advantage. You just have to know when to use them.

I recently got burned by waiting until the last minute to make important travel arrangements. When a friend told me she would be in Paris the weekend of September 12-13 I said, “Great! I’ll meet you there,” thinking I could wait until I was settled into life in Brussels before looking at ticket options and making my decision. By the time I got around to researching prices, round-trips were already too pricey for my weekend travel budget. To make matters worse, the train reservation sites were all advertising great Brussels – Paris deals…if you booked a month or more in advance. Nevertheless, there are travel websites out there that consistently offer great last minute deals. For example I’ve had success finding impressively low prices on normally out-of-range hotels with lastminute.com’s French site.

The Parisian weekend disappointment taught me a good lesson: if you have your heart set on a certain trip, book early. Start looking more than a month out, and if you see a price your comfortable with, go for it. What’s more, from what I can tell, booking early for train travel in Europe is almost always the way to get a good deal. On the other hand, if the mood to get out of town tomorrow strikes you, and you’re less concerned with the location than with the price, booking last minute doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll pay a fortune for your impulses. Have a few go-to discount travel sites on hand, be flexible, and get excited when you book a fabulous weekend jaunt without breaking the bank.

What’s your preferred travel style: book early, or buy last minute?

Brussels in a Notebook

Fellow blogger, Nomadic Matt, recently blogged about his need to keep better notes while on the road. I sympathize with his situation having had many a frustrating moment trying to remember some important detail - an address, the name of a favorite restaurant - last year in Paris. Getting ready to head to Brussels, I was vowing to do a better job this time around when another fellow blogger came to the rescue: The Cupcake Avenger gifted me my very first Molskine City Notebook.

Now, it's possible that before receiving a Moleskine City Notebook all wrapped up in a pretty little birthday bag, I was the only traveler in existence who didn't really know what a Moleskine City Notebook was. Basically, it's a guide book that you make yourself as you go along exploring and living in a specific city. There are some street maps and a metro guide in the front of my Brussels edition, but the rest is up to me. They give you sections for writing down favorite shops, eateries, encounters and museums. There is a little expandable pouch in the back for stashing away business cards, ticket stubs and newspaper clippings. There are blank pages for your notes, and tracing papers for, well, whatever you might need tracing papers for. I recently used my Moleskine to jot down the address of a fromagerie that recently won my heart with an amazing crottin de chèvre.

Having only used Moleskin for a few short days, I already don't know how I ever traveled without one. Isn't it fun how there's always a new travel toy to discover and play with on your next trip? If you know you're going to be in a certain city for an extended period of time, think about picking up your own City Notebook. They makes guides for locales all over the globe, from Amsterdam to Zurich. When you're done, you'll have the perfect, useful souvenir in your possession. And you'll never again forget the name of a favorite fromagerie.

In Brussels, Even the Bus Gets a Vacation

August in Europe can only mean one thing: vacation. You probably already know that this is the time of year when European families, couples and singles take a few weeks to recharge their batteries and enjoy life. But did you know the same benefit - vacation time guaranteed by law - also applies to public transportation? Well, at least in Brussels it does. As an American friend recently pointed out to me, the schedule for the city's various transport options is currently reduced, running on what's called the "grandes vacances" timetable. This basically means that every hour (including the traditional rush hours) offers a few less options for hitching a ride. It hasn't been a major inconvenience or anything; I'm still able to get to work on time and find my way around town. But it did make me wonder: what exactly has my life come to when bus routes, a network of trams, and a subway system all have more vacation time than I do?

Getting Over Jet Lag

As I write this entry, my eyes are slowly starting to close… Jet lag. It happens even to the most seasoned of travelers. No matter how many times you cross the pond (or the Pacific), jumping between multiple timezones can mess with your internal clock and wreak havoc on your body’s sleep patterns. This is where the homegrown remedies come in. It seems like everyone has a solution for beating jet lag. The “cures” vary widely in their approaches, and travelers love to share their best strategies for getting on local time. With dead tiredness setting in at unusual hours, I’m all ears.

But what option do you trust? A colleague of mine suggested drinking orange juice as a way to banish the body’s timezone confusion. Before heading off to Brussels, I came across a magazine article that cited a study by the Harvard Medical School that suggests fasting before and during your flight will keep jet lag at bay. My Frommer’s guide tries to debunk the classic hit-the-ground-running theory by claiming a quick nap upon arrival is truly the way to go. None of that worked for you? Then try popping a few No-Jet-Lag pills. Yup, they have those.

In the end, waiting it out might be the only true recourse for the weary traveler. I’ve heard many people say it takes them at least a week to get back on a normal sleep schedule, and I’m predicting the same will be true for me in Belgium, no matter how much advice to the contrary I receive. Of course, my own thought on jet lag has always been that it’s easier to go from the U.S. to Europe than it is from Europe to the U.S., this trip notwithstanding. Something about that never-ending day on the westward journey that seems to be especially disruptive. Everyone has their own way of tackling (or accepting) jet lag. What’s yours?

À Bientôt

You know how you can get nostalgic about something before it’s even over? You start to miss your seven-day vacation on day five, you reminisce about your college days weeks before graduation, and you think about all the good times you shared in the final days before a predictable break-up. That’s where I’m at with my life in DC. With the move to Brussels less than a week away, and even though I’m well aware that I’ll be back before I know it, I’m starting to wax poetic about what a beautiful city the nation’s capitol really is, how much I’m going to miss my favorite neighborhood spots… and remind me again why am I leaving this life I’ve built to traipse halfway around the world, over-stuffed suitcase in hand?

In addition to getting all “remember when?” and “those were the days…” about DC, I’m also in full-on getting-things-done mode. Packing boxes, cleaning out closets and changing my status with everyone from the U.S. Postal Service (yes, mom will be getting my mail) to my local gym (can I put my membership on hold for six months?) doesn’t leave much time for blogging. In fact, this will be the last stateside entry of Parisian Spring for 2009. See you in a week – in Brussels!

Fear of Flying

If only getting to Brussels didn't involve getting on an airplane. What with the luggage fees, carry-on restrictions, demeaning, assembly line-ish removing-of-the-shoes security, and the lack of any decent in-flight service, flying becomes less and less pleasant every time I do it. That would be bad enough on its own, but on top of being wholly uncomfortable, air travel is also downright scary. I've never felt at ease at 30,000 feet, and this week's story of violent turbulence isn't helping. For some travelers, the skies are anything but friendly.

The aforementioned realities of flying explain why, when given the option, I much prefer to travel by train. Taking the Train à Grande Vitesse (TGV) in France, for example, is downright enjoyable. You can show up as little as five minutes before your departure time, there are no security lines, there are no liquid carry-on restrictions, the seats have more legroom and are only two to a side, not three or more, there is usually a bar car for your enjoyment, and an upgrade to first class is often very reasonably priced. Now, some might argue that the absence of security checkpoints is not a positive thing, or that flying is not scary at all when you remember that riding in a car is far more likely to get you killed and we do that all the time without really worrying about it, but I disagree. I enjoy boarding a train with my dignity in tact (as well as my shoes), and I don't care what the statistics say; I feel better without the possibility of plummeting to my death hanging over me, however minuscule that possibility might be.

Alas, if one wishes to travel, one will at some point likely need to ride in an airplane. The best those of us who despair at the thought can do is to minimize the headaches of flight: try not to check bags, wear easily removable shoes, and take deep, reassuring breaths when the ride gets a little bumpy. It should be said that I've also met travelers who turn to medicinal solutions, the non-over-the-counter kind. And for goodness' sake, whenever possible you should avoid purchasing tickets that require you to change planes. I'm happy to report that my flight from DC to Brussels is blessedly direct.

Guidebooks for All

In between all the hectic last-minute errands and general pain in the neck aspects of moving, getting ready to live overseas is ridiculously fun and exciting. In addition to dusting off my language skills by talking to myself in French for long stretches of time, one of my favorite pre-trip rituals involves researching and purchasing a new guidebook. New guidebooks are full of possibilities, and there's nothing like a bit of pre-trip reading to get you in the mood for travel. Needless to say, when my copy of The Rough Guide to Europe on a Budget finally arrived in the mail I literally jumped for joy.

With all the options out there - guides for Europe, guides for just Western or Eastern Europe, country and even city-specific options from multiple travel guide sources - it can be difficult to make your final selection. Lonely Planet and Frommer's are perennial favorites, and Rick Steves is a reliable expert on Europe. Personally, I used to love the Let's Go series. My college friends and I would read their cleverly written histories and descriptions of upcoming destinations to each other while riding the rails in France, Spain or Italy. This time around I wanted a book that better fits my post-student travel lifestyle, and the Rough Guides line came recommended. If you're traveling through France, you should always pick up a copy of the Michelin Guide. Especially useful on road trips, Michelin rates food and lodging throughout the country, from swank Parisian hotels to traditional bistrots in the tiniest of French villages. If it wasn't for Michelin, I might never have spent a night in a 14th century Cisterian monastery. Be sure to look for the Michelin Man symbol, not stars, if you want to go budget.

Selecting a guidebook can be a very personal decision. Like other travel gear, such as a backpack or a camera, you have to get a good feeling about it; you have to have a connection with your guidebook. After all, it's going to be your constant companion, helping you find a place to sleep, food to eat, and sights to explore. When it comes to guidebooks, everyone has their favorite. What's yours?

French Health Care

I've had it up to here with people misrepresenting the French health care system. As the U.S. discusses the kind of country it wants to be when it comes to providing its citizens with access to medicine, doctor's visits, and life-saving surgery, France is often used as a bogeyman. "Ooooh, watch out, we might turn into France! We might become Socialists!" As my second favorite country's name gets dragged through the mud, I can't help thinking about my own experience with health care in France. It wasn't perfect, but it certaintly wasn't the nightmare some people would lead you to believe.

As a graduate student at Sciences Po in Paris, I was covered under the French health care system. I paid the equivalent of $300 for the semester, which granted me comprehensive coverage. During this time, I went to a doctor's office three times and got lab work done once. I never waited longer than one waits in an American doctor's office, the facilities were not sub-standard, and the government didn't come between me and my doctor. No piles of paperwork to fill out (like I have in the U.S.). No worrying about whether or not my insurance would cover it (like I do in the U.S.). I simply chose the physician I wanted to see (none of this in-group, out-group crap), paid a few small fees (generally 22 euros for a visit, much of which was refundable), got my instructions or prescriptions from the doctor and went on with my life. The security of it all felt amazing.

Of course, no system is without flaw. I do remember the incident of the laboratoire misplacing my payment record for some lab work I had done. They kept sending bills to my apartment long after I was back in the states, and a French friend eventually had to go pay the bill for me, but hey, shit happens. The cost of said lab work? About 20 euros. For lab work, people! Does this sound like a terrible system to you? I know, I know, French people pay taxes to get this stuff. That's true, they do. But the French people I know, who are roughly my age, and who are employed, and who have the same level of education as I do are not crippled under the weight of taxes. They drive nice cars, go on three week vacations (leaving them still with two weeks or more for the year), live in comfortable apartments, and aren't saddled with thousands upon thousands of dollars of student loan debt. They also will never go bankrupt because they get sick. Wow, aren't you glad we don't have that system?

Moving to Brussels, One Task at a Time

It's crunch time. Exactly three weeks from today I will touch down in Brussels, Belgium and begin a 5 1/2 month overseas stint. It's the fourth time I've left the U.S. to spend multiple months living in Europe, so you'd think I'd be really good at executing trans-Atlantic moves. You'd think. But instead of feeling like I'm making progress on the ever-growing pre-trip to-do list, I feel like I'm swimming upstream. The list isn't getting shorter, it's getting longer, and time is quickly running out.

Moving your entire life to a foreign country is no easy task. There are boxes and suitcases to pack, financial matters to rearrange, purchases to make and friends and family to see one last-for-now time. You might have to find new housing, renew your passport, buy international health insurance, or prepare for a new job. My current to-do list includes such daunting tasks as "research/buy a new laptop," "clean apartment from top to bottom," and "rent storage unit; fill with worldly possessions." I have managed to find a nice couple from Seattle to sublet my place, which I admit was a satisfying cross-off, but the anxiety level of too much to do and too little time is still threatening to put an end to my sanity, once and for all.

Why doesn't moving overseas seem to get any easier the more I do it? Denial, perhaps? I do always tell myself I have a ton of time to get things done, but it's never true. The preparations are enormous, and distractions of regular, daily life don't just stop because you tell the universe you have an overseas adventure on your hands. The result is that I'm taken by surprise each and every time the big day starts to creep up on the calendar. My only consolation is that on the first three times I moved to Euorpe, despite everything I had to do last minute, I never once missed the plane because of unfinished business. And with the prospect of living la vie en Belgique, I'm not about to ruin my perfect record.

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.

Another National Holiday

Did you know that today is the Belgian national holiday? This one really caught me off guard. After the quick succession of Canada Day, Independence Day and Bastille Day, I just wasn't expecting yet another fête nationale in need of celebrating. Thankfully, an article in the local free daily tipped me off with its list of best DC places to drink beer, eat frites and crack open some mussels all in celebration of the 21st of July.

What exactly are the Belgians commemorating today? No, it's not the signing of an eloquently written document, or the crazed storming of a prison. They mark July 21st because on that day in 1831, in the city of Brussels, Leopold I swore allegiance to the constitution. Known as the first King of the Belgians, he reigned for 34 years, leaving the crown upon his death on December 10th, 1865. The current King of the Belgians is Albert II. It makes me wonder: will Belgium ever overthrow its monarchy in dramatic fashion, an act that could have the power to create an entirely new holiday? If so, maybe they'll select a time of the year other than July in which to enact their plan. The seventh month is starting to feel a bit overbooked.

A Picnic out of Provence

An intense craving for fresh French food recently hit me out of nowhere. Maybe it's the memories from this time last year when I was getting some of my meals from a market on the Mediterranean coast, or maybe it's just that I've been stateside long enough for the novelty of eating my favorite American foods to have finally worn off. Whatever it is, I'm really starting to hope that Belgian markets and bakeries will be able to give me my fix. Belgium isn't France, but maybe the two country's marchés and boulangeries offer equally tasty wares?

In the meantime, I found a how-to article on creating a "grand and simple" Provençal feast that isn't helping matters much. My mouth waters just reading about the spread of fresh veggies, crispy baguette, and traditional aioli dip that typifies summer in one of France's most beautiful regions. The article offers up a simple recipe for Medjool dates stuffed with feta and spice as well as one for aioli. Top off your creations with items from the author's list of accompaniments and start enjoying a fresh taste of Provence at home. Lavender-scented breezes and rolling fields of sunflowers not included.

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.