Travel Oops: How about a Skippy Burger on the Barbie?

Posted on February 27, 2013 by sglaser

Shrimp? author: Ramiroja

“Maybe we should get some shrimp,” I suggested to Kurt as we cruised through the aisles of Coles, one of Australia’s main grocery stores. “You know Aussies really like their ‘shrimp on the barbie.’” I repeated a well-known fact in the US about Australians and their barbecue bounty.

Kurt and I were preparing to host our first “legit” Australian barbecue. To say barbecuing is popular in Australia is a pretty flimsy assessment. BBQs in Australia are like Baptist churches in the Bible Belt of the US. They are a given, well attended and the followers are devout.

We knew barbecue was big time. In fact, only living in Adelaide a few weeks, we had already been invited to two events.

The grills, alone, are impressive precision-engineered machines and major household appliances. Some look like they could power a small aircraft. Certainly the control panel of the one we used confused a rookie Yank like me as I attempted to adjust settings during a trial run.

Consequently, we searched Coles for the right meats, sides and even condiments. “I don’t see any shrimp at all — just these prawns,” I called out to Kurt. “Yikes, and look at how expensive they are.” I could certainly understand exorbitant prices for seafood in a land locked area, but we were ten minutes from the ocean. Nixing the idea of shrimp, we considered other options.

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Travel Oops: The Unfortunate Photo — All Templed Out

Posted on February 24, 2013 by sglaser

Bali, Indonesia. My kids Eddie (5) and Kasey (3) actually loved Bali. But you wouldn’t know it from these photos. In fact, they look pretty pissed off. “Not another temple, Mom!” Eddie exclaimed when we arrived at the Pura Taman Ayun Temple — or the Royal Temple of Mengwi. In all fairness, to visit Pura Taman Ayun, we had dragged the kids away from the water slide at our hotel.

Enamored with Bali’s temples, I couldn’t get enough, so nearly every day we were on the island we saw a new spiritual site. In the above photo, we had met an artist who was painting a piece at Pura Taman Ayun. Kasey was mildly curious, so I wanted to snap a photo — one of those feel good travel photos of your kids interacting with locals and absorbing the culture. When I asked her to smile for the camera, Kasey instantly scowled at me.

Kurt and I with our bitter kids.

Sign of the Times: Think of Your “Happy Place” — The Impound Lot

Posted on February 16, 2013 by sglaser

Colorado, USA: You have to love it when traffic sign writers use sarcasm. This one, in particular, caught my eye. Definitely, by conjuring up an image of my minivan being towed, I thought twice about parking in this spot.

Travel Oops: Surfing the Soup

Posted on February 14, 2013 by sglaser

A nose enema of salt water surged through my nasal passages and then rushed out through my nostrils taking mucus with it in a salty, snotty blob. While I rose up in the ocean foam, my oversized rash guard billowed and water flushed through the too-big wetsuit I was wearing.

The leash attached to my ankle tugged my leg as the surfboard caught another wave without me. Another small water wall came by and knocked me off balance and cold water flowed through my suit once more.

This battering did not matter, however, because I had stood up on a surfboard. Although the experience only lasted for less than one minute, I had ridden a wave before another one slammed down and churned me up. It was short but awesome and I wanted to do it again.

In fact, it was January 6, 2010, and already I had fulfilled my New Year’s Resolution, which was to try surfing, a sport I had always wanted to learn. Aqua Camp, in Santa Barbara, CA, had inspired me. My parents enrolled my sister and me in the program during the summer of 1980.

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Travel Oops: The Unfortunate Photo — The Fountain of Timbers

Posted on February 10, 2013 by sglaser

Rome, Italy. Anyone who’s traveled in Europe during the summer has seen this familiar sight: scaffolding. The Trevi Fountain or Fontana di Trevi in Rome was the victim when I traveled to Italy in 1989. Undeterred, I took a photo of my friends Amy and Leah anyway.

Here is what it normally looks like:

Travel Oops: Aggro at the Athens Airport

Posted on February 7, 2013 by sglaser

July, 1995. I am sitting on the marble floor of my departure gate in the Athens Airport with many impatient Hungarians. We are all waiting for our plane to Budapest to arrive.

Frankly, I am just glad to be at the gate at all, considering I had just ridden on a ferry and a bus, run several blocks while being chased by feral dogs and then hailed a $1,000 drachma cab to take me to about .9 kilometers to the International Terminal.

Worse, I had begged, pleaded and gone both Ugly American and Damsel-in-Distress at the ticket counter. The result was a scolding about checking in late and getting a personal escort to the Malev Airlines gate where the friggin’ flight is now delayed due to mechanical problems. Hence, my current situation, which is a far cry from yesterday.

Paros © Stephanie Glaser

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Travel Oops: What Happens in Vegas Sometimes Comes Back With You

Posted on January 23, 2013 by sglaser

Two out of three Vegas cab drivers recommend Tattoos R Us to their riders who ask. At least those were the results of an informal poll about where to get tattoos taken by my friends Steph, Anne and me. This data, along with a prominent ad featured in the Las Vegas Yellow Pages, came in handy when, ultimately, I wanted a bit of rebellion — in a pretty mainstream sort of way.

Fed up with a brutal Minnesota winter and a bad breakup, I made a last-minute decision to join my friends Anne and Steph on a girls’ weekend trip to Las Vegas. A good dose of Vegas guarantees a distraction at the very least.

The schedule of pool time, nap time, get-ready time, dinner drinks and dancing time was perfect although no rebellion there.

Of course, one goal of my friends was to devote some time to the casinos. They went for Blackjack, Craps and Roulette. I cranked ten dollars through a slot machine and declared I was done. That was the cost of a CD after all.

Because, at that point, I ranked everything in terms of loss, I couldn’t get into the mode of gambling. Every day at breakfast, our group would recap the winnings and losses of the previous evening. “I’m $2,000 down after last night,” said one of Anne’s friends. “But the night before I was $4,000 up.”

What the — Just cut your losses — GET OUT NOW was all I could think. After expressing concern over the up and down developments, I sensed outrage.

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Travel Oops: The Unfortunate Photo — “I’m checking out her…form”

Posted on January 17, 2013 by sglaser

Copenhagen, Denmark: International Sand Sculpture Championship. Who can blame this man (on the far left) for checking out this form? The sculptures at this competition are truly amazing art, especially this beautiful one of a curvy naked woman. The funny thing is that his travel party is moving on and he lingers, pretty much transfixed.

Travel Oops: The Queen’s Birthday — A Royal Rager?

Posted on January 16, 2013 by sglaser

The Orange crush streaming out of Centraal Station and on to the streets of Amsterdam indicated that the Dutch — especially young people — must love their Queen Bea.

Throngs of Dutch citizens waved flags and sported the Netherlands’s national color, orange — lots of orange. Revelers even dyed their hair in flaming shades of tangerine, tangelo and clementine.

To be honest, it looked like my roommates and I had stepped into a Florida citrus convention.

It was Koninginnedag — Queen’s Day, which recognizes the Queen’s birthday and is celebrated every April 30. As an American, I could barely say it let alone did I know exactly what Koninginnedag would be like.

But, like her loyal subjects, I figured I could drink tea with my pinky up in the air, eat crustless cucumber sandwiches and wave to Queen Beatrix as she rode by in a horse-drawn carriage.

Leah, Amy and I, who were on a college study abroad program based 30 minutes away in Leiden, wanted to check out the whole monarchy thing.

However, as we walked out on to the Amsterdam streets, we got sucked into the detour to debauchery. People spilled out of the packed bars, slammed beers on the streets and sat on rooftops. It was clear that we needed to start drinking alcohol right away. It was 9:30 a.m.

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