danapop

In a completely coincidental span of about two weeks I read the book “Wild” and watched the film “The Way.” What’s a bit weird is that both works (which I highly-recommend) dive into the same theme of traveling alone. Specifically, going out on a somewhat isolated journey to sort through life-altering events.

Have you ever traveled alone?

I did, once … kind of. During my senior year of college I enrolled in a program called Alternative Spring Break. It was an interesting week during which I traveled with complete strangers to Chicago to work on “Streetwise,” the newspaper (although I think it’s since been converted to a magazine layout) sold throughout the city by homeless men and women for a nominal amount. It’s a wonderful organization, and the people that run it are the salt of the Earth. So, I can’t say I was solo, exactly, during those travels. I wasn’t trekking through the Pacific Crest Trail like Cheryl Strayed in “Wild,” or embarking on the historical quest of el Camino de Santiago like Martin Sheen’s character in “The Way.” No, I was surrounded by people the entire time, but no one that I knew beforehand, which was a strange feeling–to be without the comfort of an existing relationship with my travel companions.

I have a friend whom I worked with in news who really travels alone. She leaves her very high-pressured field-producing position with a major network reporter and virtually disappears. Leaving the conference calls, the war zones, the Blackberry, the television scripts, the countless hours of raw agency video loaded with horrific images, and just like that she’s gone. She wouldn’t even tell me the name of her latest spot, except to mention that it’s somewhere in the Caribbean, is too small to show up on a map, and it takes a couple of days after a flight from New York to reach it by boat. She needs to be that alone. And I think she’s one of the bravest people I know for actually booking her annual off-the-grid trip and not just talking about doing it.

I remember just after my father died wanting to be that alone. I think most people in a crisis or life-changing situation all experience that universal fight or flight notion and can picture themselves, not unlike the Runaway Bride, hopping on that Greyhound bus headed for anywhere-but-here. There’s something about the notion that sounds so freeing and appealing. It’s the idea that travel can somehow make it all better.

But, then I remember how much of life is about shared experiences. No matter how many times I describe to my husband how wonderful a Guinness tastes at a pub in Dublin, he’ll never know because he wasn’t on that trip with me. But, we can laugh for hours about winding up in the formal living room at some random person’s house in Atenas, Costa Rica before realizing this was, in fact, not the bed and breakfast we’d booked. They were so polite! Or if I tell my sister to stop acting like a Honey’s Doughnut employee, she knows I’m telling her she’s being as snotty as the counter staff at the hole-in-the-wall joint in Vancouver we experienced while on a family vacation several years back.

My husband traveled alone, as you can tell from this photo. Well, it was a trip similar to my Chicago one. His was a 20-day journey through the Wind River Mountain Range in Wyoming for National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) where he knew no one, but by the end his travel companions were like family. In the course of those weeks they figured out when one person needed quiet time in the mornings, that this person liked to photograph everything along the way, and this person liked to stay up late talking. But, after the trip was over, he’s never talked to any on the NOLS trip again. The only thing binding them might’ve been that experience while they were actually in it, but without that, there wasn’t much else. That time or place or people can never be replicated–all that’s left is my husband’s memory of what he experienced.

That to me is the interesting dichotomy with travel, we all leave searching for something. Whether it’s culture, or adventure, or an experience you’ve always wanted … to book the ticket, to take the ride. Would you ever book it alone?

My first trip to Florida was when I was a sophomore in high school and went to visit a friend of mine whose family moved to Orlando. I have to say, Orlando is not exactly my favorite spot (quite the opposite, actually). The parking lot coming out of Disney World at 10 p.m. with kids that should’ve been fed and in bed hours prior kind of turned me off. But, once I met my husband, I realized the specialness Florida holds for him and his family. Thank goodness that place is not Orlando.

We go just about every season possible and the vibe of the area changes with the time of year. For instance, during spring break, it’ll be flooded with snowbirds who call it home (one who once flipped me the bird because I inadvertently didn’t come to a full stop for pedestrians who hadn’t yet started walking across the street). To fall, when you’ll likely have the whole beach to yourself (my favorite). We try to go in the summertime at least once, generally around July 4, because in my mind, there’s nothing quite like seeing fireworks over the ocean. And we’ll make up a big batch of something great to eat, like scallops with bacon and sweet corn on the grill, open a bottle wine, and it’s my idea of perfection. It’s filled the families like us, leisurely celebrating the holiday.

The area we go to is Siesta Key, about seven hours south of Atlanta, just off Sarasota overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. We’re utterly spoiled when we go–we get to use my in-laws condo for our stay, which is such a generous treat. It feels just as much like going home as it does when we return to my husband’s hometown of Cincinnati. Because of this, I cannot exactly recommend places to stay, but I can offer a ton on where to eat and what to do. Here are my recommendations of where to head while in stunning Siesta Key.

Eat
We haven’t had many bad meals around Siesta Key, but there are handfuls of places we try to eat at least once during a visit. Owen’s Fish Camp is my absolute favorite restaurant in Sarasota. It’s in Burns Court, a fun district, the restaurant is charming but modern at the same time, and the food is just the best. I order something different every time I’m there, but its shrimp and grits are very tough to pass up. Though, as you can tell from this photo, the low country boil had me at hello.

Anna’s Deli is an institution. I get the same sandwich every time–the Peddler–tuna salad with cukes and Swiss on pumpernickel. Plus, it has something called “Anna’s Sauce” (which as best as I can gather is some sort of amped up thousand island dressing) that is addictive and must be added. It’s really simple and so tasty. There are several locations, but we go to Anna’s II on the island, and every time we go, my husband tells me the story about how he was standing in line at Anna’s when the OKC bombing happened and he watched coverage on its television. Random anecdote, I know, but what can I say, we met while working in a cable network newsroom.

My husband’s family has been going to Phillippi Creek since he was just out of diapers. And apparently once he had teeth he’d order the same meal each time–fried shrimp with French fries and a slice of key lime pie for dessert–my kind of guy! As adults, we both always order Maryland Spiced Shrimp. I also love their grouper, which is fresh from the Gulf. Beyond the food, Phillipi is the best sort of family spot complete with funny oyster shells outside for you to stick your head through for a photo op and paper towels for napkins on the table. It’s so good at Phillippi that often we eat here more than once.

Do
Now, if there’s water from the Gulf of Mexico in front of me and sand that feels like powdered sugar under my feet, I feel the need to do very little else. Seriously, its beaches are ranked best in the world, specifically, Siesta Public Beach. While we spend most of our time at Turtle Beach (since that’s the beach adjacent to the condo), the public beach does have the best white sand and it’s beautiful. Stake a spot early, it gets crowded fast. When you’re over the beach scene, there are several places worth a wander.

The marina in downtown Sarasota is beautiful and worth it to drive through. There’s the famous (and somewhat controversial) statue titled “Unconditional Surrender” which some residents call “tacky” and “hideous.” I generally don’t get that worked up over art, especially when it involves a sculpture depicting the famous Eisenstaedt photograph from Times Square. Explore the nearby grounds to see additional public art installations lining the outdoor space next to the water. Neighboring islands are fun to pop over to (St. Armand’s Circle on Lido Key and Longboat Key both gorgeous and fun spots to check out). The Salvador Dalí Museum isn’t too far away in nearby in St. Petersburg. And the Ringling School of Art and Design has great events showcasing student work. In the same vein, the Ringling Museum of Art has been on my list of dos for ages. For a true adventure, head to Myakka River State Park for an airboat ride with loads of alligator sightings. My nieces and nephews love Myakka when a break from the beach is needed. It likely goes without saying, but just in case, when in Florida, great golf courses are abundant. It means I lose my husband for a day, but he loves playing down here, so remember to pack the clubs.

Siesta Village is the shopping district on Siesta Key. Get ice cream and a box of saltwater taffy at Olaf. Also in the Village is our favorite coffee shop—Lélu Coffee Lounge, which helped me with Internet access for filing more stories and deadlines than I care to admit while on what was supposed to be a vacation. During the day it serves great coffee and awesome smoothies. By night, it switches to a fun cocktail lounge, just the kind you expect on a leisurely beach vacation. The staff is really cool, and there’s a surf shop connected to the restaurant part, so you can sort of get lost for a bit in here. For shopping, I’m always lured into Beach Bazaar for all its swimsuits, sandals and surf wear. It’s usually at this point that my husband is shaking the keys to the car at me and insisting I have enough swimsuits to last a lifetime at home.

Just writing this makes me eager to get back. I’m certain we will return soon enough. Do you have a special spot you revisit to again and again?

Image: Courtesy of Keep Calm Gallery

It’s always this time of year, springtime, when I get an itch to travel. You can see my similar post here back in May 2010 about dream destinations. There aren’t too many places I wouldn’t venture, but I do have a handful of spots higher on my list than others. This is my travel bucket list at the moment.

Road Trip
I’ve been to Key West several times, and while I love it, the only way I’d return anytime soon is to do the famed drive from Miami due South. I so want to do that drive and stop at all the little beach shacks serving conch fritters along the way.

Image: Courtesy of Little Palm Island Resort & Spa

Boozy Biking
Italy will be on my list until I actually just go already. Forward thinking—I’m putting it out there that this is where I want to go for my 10-year wedding anniversary. I have a vision (for at least one portion of the trip) of biking around Italy. I have two years to save for it.

Image: Courtesy of the Bauer Hotel

Roughing It
Yurt. I want to stay in one. Doesn’t matter where.

Image: Courtesy of Patagonia Camp

Dreamy Destination
True Story: Once, while on painkillers post-outpatient surgery, I dreamed of Martinique. I’d never even heard of the island in the middle of the eastern Caribbean Sea until that dream. It was incredibly vivid and lovely (at least what my doped-up state remembers) and it made me want to go.

Image: Courtesy of Cap Est Lagoon Resort & Spa

A Little Footy
My husband and I have been talking about an England trip for a while now. He wants to see Manchester United play at Old Trafford. I want to visit dear friends in London. It’s a win-win.

Image: Courtesy of Manchester United

Intense Om
Bali, Indonesia; Tulum, Mexico; Sedona, Arizona—I want to take a 3-5 day intense yoga retreat sometime. A juicing, cleansing, sweat out all the toxins kind of trip. But, one that allows a nightly cocktail hour. Does that exist?

Image: Courtesy of Maya Tulum

See the Light
Earlier this year I visited my twin sister in California and we passed this lighthouse hostel. To further feed my obsession with all things nautical, I want to book a stay here next time I go.

Image: Courtesy of Norcalhostels.org

What’s on your bucket list?

Piedmont Park flooded with Music Midtown revelers

My favorite editor once described Atlanta as the not-as-cool little sister, and it fits so accurately. It’s no big sister city like L.A., NYC, Miami, or Chicago. Despite desperately wanting otherwise, it will forever be the Jan to Marsha Brady.

I get asked the question often enough to finally warrant an article, “Where in the world does one head if visiting the ATL?” I moved here in 2000, and the past 12 years are the most I’ve lived anywhere. There are several things you should know about my adopted city: First, a car is required. Atlanta (not unlike Dallas) is a highway city and public transportation isn’t the way to go for more than one reason (it’s run in four primitive directions, North and South line, East and West, and frankly, MARTA is a culture shock no one from out of town should be subjected to on a first visit).

Second, hitting the right neighborhood in Atlanta is key to a good time. While Buckhead was the posh spot reigning supreme in the 1990s boom, hipper intown areas today are Little 5 Points (L5P), Virginia Highland, Old Fourth Ward (O4W), Midtown, and Inman Park.

Here’s the whole pop on where to go and what to do in Atlanta.

The charming Highland Inn

Stay
I recommend staying in Midtown or somewhere in that vicinity. W Midtown is in very proximity to Piedmont Park and puts you in the heart of the city. I’ve written about Stonehurst Place in greater detail here, it’s a great option as well. Another to consider in the same area is the Loews, which is pet friendly and houses Exhale Spa if pampering and working out is on the agenda.

The Mansion on Peachtree is decadent, a great treat if you want to be in Buckhead. For a more low-key spot, the Highland Inn is charming and in a great locals-only area with very reasonable rates. But, perhaps the most iconic spot above all is the grande dame, the Georgian Terrace. This historic hotel hosted the premiere gala for “Gone with the Wind” in 1939. If nothing else, have a drink at the bar (called Livingston), just to say you did.

Historic Clermont Hotel, which houses the Clermont Lounge

Do
For outdoor shopping you cannot do much better than Virginia Highland or L5P for its fabulous boutiques lining the equally fun districts. For indoor shopping, head to Buckhead for Lenox Square and Phipps Plaza—both have a good mix of high-end stores peppered with the usual mall department store suspects. Nearby, the Shops around Lenox are quite good too, with a combination of local boutiques (local designer Bill Hallman’s studio is here) and chains (Lululemon, Tootsies). Local shopping collectives like At the Collective, Beehive and Youngblood (in Inman Park, Edgewood and Poncey-Highland, respectively) all sell merchandise from a slew of ATL-area artists and designers. Two parts of the city I haven’t yet mentioned are Decatur and the Westside. Both areas are worth a wander. The Westside houses great restaurants, galleries, and shops (including the über-chic Jonathan Adler). Decatur is just seven miles from downtown and its square is simply adorable.

A few of my favorite galleries are Jackson Fine Art, Hagedorn Foundation Gallery, Get This!, and Kai Lin. For a not-so highbrow night out, head to the Clermont Lounge. Alive since ’65, this (ahem) gentlemen’s club is a rite of passage. Leave your inhibitions and expectations of bottle service at the door. Once inside, you’ll be treated to dancers whose median age is about 55 … and be sure to tip—it’s their livelihood.

Sun in my Belly's famed shrimp and grits

Eat
Where to begin on food in Atlanta? This is the most written about beat I’ve covered as a journalist in this city. Some of my favorite spots (in no particular order) are JCT Kitchen (I crave its angry mussels more often than I care to admit), the Earl (perfect, no frills burgers), Iberian Pig (amazingly good tapas and a divine wine list) Taqueria Del Sol (best fish tacos outside of California), Empire State South (I ♥ Hugh Acheson), the Vic (excellent sandwiches washed down with Jack and coke slushies), Sun in my Belly (my favorite spot for Sunday brunch), Sublime Doughnuts (the name doesn’t lie), and lastly, any Anne Quatrano restaurant (she’s the best Atlanta’s got).

In addition, since you have the car and all, a Buford Highway run is something that must be done. Nobody expects Atlanta to house decent ethnic cuisine, but a trek North of the city is totally worth it. Drive up to Buford Highway and the surrounding area for authentic Vietnamese (Nam Phoung) Japanese (Sushi House of Hayakawa), and Dim Sum (Golden House). Nom nom.

Do let me know if you’re heading here … I’m a decent tour guide and will certainly do my best to roll out the welcome mat.

Jeralyn Gerba is often credited with an irrepressible knack for spotting the undiscovered long before it’s on trend. It served her well as a former DailyCandy editor, and now, as co-founder and editorial director of the travel website, FATHOM. I’ve been a fan of the site since its launch July 2011 and Gerba was gracious enough to grant me an interview. Here it is.

danapop (dp): What’s the inspiration behind the site? How does collaboration come to play with what you’re doing at FATHOM?

Jeralyn Gerba (JG): FATHOM is a website for global-minded travelers who tour the world spontaneously and deliberately, who mix business with pleasure, and who seek out the new while appreciating the familiar. We combine inspirational anecdotes (the travel stories you tell at the dinner table) with practical advice (the essentials for making it happen). We know that everybody collects both, and we want to provide a place where people can plan their trip and then come back and tell their story.

dp: Do you have a favorite section? Why?

JG: I love the FATHOM Questionnaires — our version of the Proust questionnaire. It’s such a nice way to get to know a writer or traveler I admire. I also really enjoy editing (and reading) itineraries like Best Day Ever, and A Few Days In, which are great starting points for planning a trip.

dp: What are some of your favorite websites to peruse?

JG: So many websites, so little time. I really enjoy The Rumpus and McSweeney’s for my literary fix. Thank You Ok, Cup of Joe, Pinterest for the pretty pictures. Diners Journal and NY Mag and Slate and DailyBeast and NYT for the local happenings. And a million little blogs for inspiration.

dp: In this economy, do you have any tips for staying on a travel budget (besides not going)?

JG: In exchange for volunteering, many places offer a free place to stay (like this cool ashram in Buenos Aires). If you put in the legwork, you can find five-star vacations at two-star prices. You can always apartment swap, camp, go on a road trip, backpack, or couch surf. You can also explore a little closer to home. It’s amazing how much you can discover when you act like a tourist your town or city or just beyond.

dp: How many countries have you traveled?

JG: About two dozen.

dp: What’s one of your fondest travel memories as a child? Adult?

JG: My family used to go camping in the Catskill Mountains. We’d hike through the woods, swim in freezing streams, make huge bonfires, play games, and catch all sorts of critters. My mom is still the best frog-catcher around.

These days I mostly travel to big cities, which I love, but most of the places I dream about going back to involve some sort of incredibly scenic drive (Pacific Coast Highway) and lots of hikes through nature (Switzerland).

dp: What’s the most memorable upgrade or perk you’ve ever gotten?

JG: Catching a ride in a Bentley to the Vegas airport.

dp: Something you never leave home without?

JG: Pocket-size notebook and several writing utensils.

dp: What the first electronic device you turn on when over 10,000 feet?

JG: I am more than happy to stay unplugged up in the air. I rarely even turn on the in-flight television. I prefer reading, writing, sleeping, snacking, and staring out the window.

dp: Are you able to differentiate work verses pleasure travel? Is there a difference in your line of work?

JG: Rarely. Whenever I travel I am taking notes and looking for a new discovery or story angle. At least it’s fun work.

dp: Where are you headed next?

JG: To London, where my husband is DJing at a great little club called Plastic People. Then to Edinburgh and Berlin — two favorites — to catch up with old friends, and, of course, check out new sites.

dp: Favorite recent purchase while on the road?

JG: A few weeks ago, at an apothecary in Beijing, I found black charcoal Japanese toothpaste and matching all-black Q-Tips. They make for a very severe set-up on my bathroom counter.

dp: Where do you call home?

JG: New York City. And I’m always glad to be back.

While I do like my Atlanta life, I terribly miss living by water. You’d think I lived in Hawaii longer than three years, because that stint and the less than one year in Norfolk, Virginia were the only times I’ve lived near an ocean.

After our Christmas holiday at my mom’s house in Kansas, we headed west to ring in the New Year with my twin sister in California, loaded with sunshine and the Pacific, in all her glory.

While there, I went on a hike called the Skyline to the Sea. It’s a strenuous almost 12-miler that around mile nine gave me the most glorious sight I’ve ever laid eyes on—a break in the mountains, to see the roaring ocean waves lapping up the coast just off Hwy. 1. You hear it first and feel it second, so before you even see her, you know she’s there.

She is powerful and moving and was a very symbolic way to close 2011. I already miss her.

About a year ago I traveled to Krakow, Poland for the wedding one of my best friends. I held off on writing about it on dp in order to give first dibs to other publications. Now, I can finally shout it from the rooftops (err computer) what an amazing city this is.

I’m not certain that had the occasion not been there, I would’ve ever ended up in Eastern Europe before Western. Because, I’m admittedly embarrassed to say, I’ve never been to Europe, and I always thought I’d roam wine country in France or eat my way through Italy long before exploring former Jewish settlements in Poland.

This trip was taken at a pivotal point in my life. My husband had just gotten a job after a nine-month layoff, but we were still very much feeling the financial and emotional effects of that period; my mom was just starting treatment for her second cancer battle with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The timing juxtaposed, a really happy, special time in my friend’s life against some personal gunk that was both sad and hard. In all actuality, this feeling isn’t unlike the duality of Krakow—it’s sleek, cosmopolitan, and hip (supposedly it’s becoming what Prague was for American tourists about 10-15 years ago), against a rich (and tragic) history, renaissance and gothic architecture, and ample grittiness. Here’s my pop on Krakow.

Stay
We rented an apartment for the bulk of our trip. The promised Internet connection didn’t work (which was sort of critical to me and my traveling companions since we were all on deadlines to some degree) so I cannot recommend the company we used in good conscience. I do, however, love the experience of an apartment rental when traveling. Two to check out are airbnb.com and boutique-homes.com, both come recommended, but I haven’t used them myself.

We also stayed at Hotel Stary, which is impressive and gorgeous, and I cannot rave about it enough. Because the wedding reception we attended was held there, I did not fully appreciate it as much as I would have normally—it was a bit raucous of a stay to say the least. I mean, not to throw her under a bus, but my twin sister broke a bed at the Stary. Granted it was a roll-away, but seriously, she broke a bed while holding a plate loaded with wedding pastries that she snuck back to the room, leaving the two us in uncontrollable fits of laughter and my husband wanting to kill us both for being so annoying. All of us were in fine form that night, but back to the hotels.

Another one to consider: the Hotel Copernicus, named after Polish astronomer Nicolas Copernicus. It’s described by every major travel publication worth its salt as quite similar to the Stary (intimate, luxurious, modern touches mixed with historic, rooftop bar with a view, basement level spa). Beautiful to boot and only 29 rooms; it feels incredibly special.

Do
While the Old Town is the best part (like most European cities built around a square) do try to steer off the path a bit and take a wander through Kazimierz, the Jewish quarter. You’ll get a much more somber vibe, but really see the grittiness (and spirit) of Krakow.

The main market in Old Town square, called Rynek Główny, is absolutely a must. You’ll find everything from amber jewelry (Baltic amber is a huge business there) to sheepskin coats, and bartering is perfectly acceptable. The Wawel Castle is interesting to walk through, and I think everyone needs a good castle tour every now and again. Several of the bride and groom’s relatives in town for the wedding toured the Wieliczka Salt Mine mentioned it was worth a visit (located about 8 miles outside of Krakow).

Also, you cannot go wrong with many of the museums in the city. This is confirmed by an excellent NYT’s travel piece touching on the emerging arts scene happening right now in Krakow.

Eat

Krakow isn’t just pierogi, pierogi, pierogi for eats. While you can obviously enjoy the Polish dumpling just about any way imaginable, there’s so much more to taste … like the zapiekanka. This street food gem appears almost like a French bread pizza, but in actuality, it’s an open-faced toasted sandwich loaded with mushrooms and covered in melted cheese.

Several must try spots—Alchemia (one of the oldest bars in the city located in Kazimierz), and Buddha Bar, tucked off the square and situated in an outdoor garden courtyard with good music and fantastic cocktails. Honestly, though, one won’t go wrong just wandering the square and stopping at any restaurant along the way. Menus are generally in English and Polish, so you can get a good idea of what to expect.

While I had zero expectations of Krakow before my trip, I adored every minute. Read more of my Krakow musings on FATHOM.com, in a piece about the Hotel Stary.

Image: Courtesy of handhhome.com

We know travel influences art, architecture and design, but seeing the fall pages of glossies filled with Ikat and Navajo prints makes me realize how much travel influences one’s overall style. Here’s my worldly roundup of most fashionable home accents and wears from around the globe.

Peggy 60s faux fur collar coat, Oasis
Zinke ink-imbued jumper, Anthropologie
Seychelles cleary heels, Anthropologie
Coronation jute wine gags, Wisteria

Gypsy 05 grey silk-dye print Ella flutter mini dress, Bluefly
Deborah Lippmann not-so-typical taupe nail lacquer
Starfish pillow, Maine Cottage
Prada turquoise suede cutout platform sandal, Bluefly

Kimono sleeve shift dress, Oasis
Make Up For Ever rouge artist intense, Sephora
Fringe Asia tray, Bloomingdales
Silver Chinese garden stool, Wisteria

Bernere blanket wrap, Les Nouvelles
Modern, slight curve straight jeans in vintage dark, Levi’s
Coffee table book available in October, Taschen
Leather bag, Esprit

Snakeskin print blazer, Zara
Shoshanna green ikat printed silk strapless dress, Bluefly
Two horn necklace, Forever 21
Torro chair by Adam Birch, Anthropologie

Cross leather leggings by Surface to Air, Les Nouvelles
Camilla floral dress by Roseanna, Les Nouvelles
Maguba clogs
Cucina purifying hand soap, Sur La Table

Last month my husband and I went to the beach for eight days. It seemed so ridiculously luxurious, the two of us escaping for that long with absolutely nothing on the agenda except to arrive back in Atlanta tanned, relaxed, and holding the key to the perfect margarita recipe.

Besides basking for over a week in great conversation (seriously, we might’ve solved the debt crisis—at least in our own household), fabulous food (raw oysters and chocolate croissants, I could eat you every day), long beach walks (stumbling upon Stephen King’s dwelling on Casey Key was a nice surprise, the spooky guy in the Sea Oats scaring the you-know-what-out-of-us … not so much), and catching up on stacks of books and magazines both of us had been meaning to read, we didn’t do a thing. There was one final kicker—neither of us worked!

In the three years I’ve owned danapop, LLC, that’s never happened. Like most folks who run a small company, you answer phone calls at unexpected times and work when it’s required. But, coming home after that holiday from my everyday life, I’m not exaggerating when I say I feel like an entirely new person.

It got me thinking about those pieces of travel you take back with you once you return to your own bed. We all escape ourselves a bit when we leave the confines of our structured life. Allowing the day to be as it is, it’s just not something that can happen with bills to be paid, dinner to be cooked, and weekly conference calls awaiting a dial in.

But it’s beyond just a feeling while you’re there. Most of us have those tokens we take with us when we leave, like we’re trying to savor the trip just a little bit more. When I travel, I buy an ornament from wherever I am that gets mixed on our Christmas tree with the matching (ahem, prettier) decorations. Every year, when I hang the little ribbon around the Rasta man-piece shaped like a wreath with the words “no problem” written on the side, it makes me smile and remember our zero cares in Ocho Rios.

And as one that’s ruled by her belly, those pieces of travel we carry with us for certain can come in the form of a great meal. Some of the best food I eat is when I travel. And that’s where most of my memories about a place are conjured up … a recollection of what happened around a table. Or, not to sound too much like Anthony Bourdain, what happened around something woofed down around 2 a.m. while slurring my speech in another country.

From the best sausage of my life post-Temple bar revelry in Dublin, to a kebab in Krakow that to this day makes me visualize manna falling from the sky (but perhaps that’s just because it was the only thing that could shake my husband’s killer hangover and allowed him to talk for the first time at 5 p.m. that day), to the frozen treat sandwiches in Costa Rica that still have me wondering how the cookie part remained soft—not soggy—when filled with ice cream, to that very specific blend of jerk seasoning no one else on the planet can get as good as what I’ve tasted in Jamaica. Or the traditional German meal eaten in Dusseldorf complete with beer refills that were based on the honor system.

But, sometimes it comes in other forms. My twin sister brought back some of the most gorgeous textiles from her four-month fellowship in China. I still can’t decide if the fabric should be filled as pillows or framed as art. The oversized wooden fork and spoon serving pieces that we use so often from a tiny shop on the way to the cloud forest in Monteverde, Costa Rica. Or the jewelry we bought my mom while in Poland—a lovely amber ring handmade by a Krakow-based designer using the jewel native to the region. I have a Kelly green blouse I get compliments on each time I wear it, and I love telling people I got it in the sweetest boutique in Vancouver. The bangles I wear almost every day are from the French market in New Orleans for $1 per bangle (such a steal!), and I think of that trip when I hear them jangle on my wrist.

I love how much stepping away enriches the life one has at home. Whether it’s in the attitude upon return, or maybe it’s in the pieces collected along the way. It makes me want to carve that space out for exploring just to see what I come back with.

Jim Bailey’s stunning photograph captures a storm cloud over Baxter Springs. See more of his work at jimbaileyphoto.com.

We’re heading to the beach next week to spend the 4th of July holiday in Siesta Key, Florida. And it’s reminding me of where I watched fireworks (in spirit) for several years growing up. While we didn’t take many vacations as a family, we did annually stay in my dad’s hometown of Baxter Springs, Kansas for a pow-wow to celebrate Independence Day with lifelong family friends and tribal leaders. In lieu of bottle rockets, oohs and ahs, there, we were surrounded by drumbeats and feathered regalia in ceremonial dance.

Ottawa Nation pow-wow in Quapaw, Oklahoma

My family has strong ties to that three corners region where Missouri, Oklahoma, and Kansas intersect—my great-grandparents Raymond and Fey, met and married in Baxter Springs. It’s just 13 miles from where my father was born in Joplin, Missouri’s St. John’s Hospital, which was hit by the tornado that devastated the area on May 22.

Movie star Tom Mix visiting Baxter Springs, riding my great-grandfather’s horse, Diamond.

All of this reminds me of how much has changed in my life since the last time I’ve been and how much folks in that part of the country are still sifting through. But, I know energy and ancestry runs deep in the land, so I’m hoping for a little tribal dance, a flutter of hope in their honor.

The 1975 documentary on Grey Gardens and the HBO film in 2009 exploring this property in East Hampton, New York (once owned by mother and daughter, both named Edith Beale) are excellent. If you have a moment, the New York Times photos here are stunning and haunting at the same time, as is the Washington Post piece here. Earlier this year, Atlanta Magazine featured an incredible article on Ossabaw Island, the second largest island off the coast of Georgia in the barrier chain, the Golden Isles, and from the first word on the page about its sole property owner, ninety-eight-year-old Sandy West, it reminded me of Grey Gardens. You can read the full article here about West’s family selling the island to the state in 1978.

The string of land surrounded by water along the Atlantic shoreline is part of the reason I was intrigued to move to Atlanta in the first place. The notion that I, a landlocked girl from Kansas could live within a four to five hour proximity of the ocean is baffling. But, it’s true, and there are a dozen islands off the Southeastern part of the state, several with which you are probably familiar—Jekyll (frequented in the early 1920s by the Carnegie and Pulitzers as a winter retreat from Manhattan), Cumberland (John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette wedding), Tybee (numerous movies shot here), St. Simons (its famed first lighthouse has served as a beacon since 1807) and Sea Island (30th G8 Summit in 2004).

I’ve gotten to about a third of them and they all are special in their own way, but the one I want to visit next for certain is Ossabaw. Back in the 60s, West ran the island as the Ossabaw Island Project, an artists’ residency to rival the prestigious Yaddo in New York. There is something drawing me to want to work and write there, even if just for a week. It’s uninhabited mostly, barring West and those on her estate, and you can only get there by private boat and they’d like it to remain that way, preserved and rustic. My twin sister and I have been chatting for a while now about a joint artists’ residency with her sculpture and my writing to see what we can create, so perhaps this is the spot where we’re supposed to be? I do know there’s something drawing me there and I’m listening to that and hoping the untarnished image in my mind matches what I’ll discover.

In 2003, the July prior to my wedding that October, I visited one of my best friends in her hometown of Dublin, Ireland. Every March, with shamrock overloaded visuals and overindulgent drinking stereotypes it makes me think of that amazing trip, and also of that part of the globe. It really is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the States. The trek is easier than you think and for us in Atlanta it’s only about an hour longer than flying to San Francisco or Seattle … worth it.

Here are a few of my photos (so old they had to be scanned) from that magical isle, though they don’t do the trip justice. The Dublin photos are pretty gloomy, as they were shot in black and white, and it was pouring mostly. To balance them out, I’ve also included a few of Edinburgh, Scotland since that was the part of the trip with glorious sunny pictures to prove it.

This wasn’t always the case, me involved in a love affair with New York. No, my first few trips were like bad dates that you just keep accepting because you’ve got nothing better to do on a Friday night. Manhattan was overwhelming to me—the noise level, the grittiness and brashness, the crowds, the lights, and the neighborhoods—all of it made me just want to stay home in my stereotypical sweats and watch a Rom-Com while eating takeout. Because of this, I never got to know the real New York until very recently—the one without cab drivers trying to rip off naïve girls from Kansas the second they step off the plane with their sleek black town cars sounding like a good idea in lieu of a grody taxi, one without harsh winters or sweltering summers, and void of tourists that stop to gawk in the middle of heavily trafficked sidewalks like they’ve just hopped off the turnip truck that I couldn’t look past.

I’ve been to New York a fair amount. My first trip, I wrote about here, in Holiday Bound, recounting the first Christmas after my father died. Every other trip after that initial one was for work (since when I worked in television my show was based there), so I made the jaunt often enough. Through it all, I’ve discovered in no other place does where you live exemplify who you are. Atlanta has neighborhoods, but our ‘hoods don’t necessarily define you as a person. In NYC saying you live in Battery Park, Alphabet City, Williamsburg, Hell’s Kitchen, or Morningside Heights says more about you than what line of work you’re in, whom you date, or the shoes you wear.

A tipsy Washington Square Park photo taken from a rapidly moving taxi.

But, this last time I went to NY, something dramatic happened inside of me. I was smitten for the first time with the hustle of the city and all that being in Manhattan means. I’m not going to tell you where to eat or stay while there. There’s just too much ground to cover and many places do that better than I ever could. I will, however, mention two things that are a must:

1. Order room service while staying in a big, fancy hotel.
2. Wander, wander, wander … seriously, get lost!

You can’t go wrong with those two things. There’s something about being in a ridiculously overpriced hotel wearing a bathrobe, eating a grilled cheese with tomato and a pile of fries at midnight, listening to the bustle of the city below all because you can that makes you feel alive. And of course, I wandered. I walked until my riding boot-riddled feet couldn’t take it; then I walked some more. There truly is something magical about the city in December. Shopping, eating, shivering, soaking it up. There’s a laundry list of things I always say I’ll do while I’m there—the NY Public Library (though, I’ve eaten at the Bryant Park Grill just adjacent), MoMA (does shopping at the design store count?), the Hayden Planetarium (can’t make it past Central Park), and countless other things on my list, but never got around to—there’s just too much.

What I did get to was on par with any true New Yorker, I think. I hustled. I worked, took meetings, networked my arse off, and was go-go-go the entire trip. It brings it out of you, even if you’re lazy and leisurely, NY will draw out the drive and you’ll be swept up in it. It begins with the culture there that after work, folks don’t immediately head to their miniscule overpriced shoebox that houses the box springs and flat screen. No, they stay in the mix of the city! They meet for drinks, then dinner, then a nightcap, and dress and plan accordingly. In three days I met with a NY Times Magazine writer about a book project I’m working on, worked side-by-side with the lovely photographer on said project, met the entire DailyCandy staff in the flesh in their sweet Soho digs (whom up to this point I’d only know as a login and email addresses) caught up with former editors and TV colleagues, ate amazing food and drank fantastic wine (I have yet to have a bad meal here), reconnected with old friends, and even managed to get in the Christmas spirit (holiday shopping and Rockefeller tree viewing). Pure perfection.

So much so that in the rare downtime I had while there I sent my sister this text:

It’s freezing here, but I am sitting @ a brasserie w a bowl of French onion soup & red wine … on a Wed! I think this might be the best day of my life.

New York City is full of hope and bustle, and in December, well, there’s really nothing quite like it. I left recharged and revived, the perfect remedy for any amount of complacency I’ve had in my own Atlanta as the year came to a close. Perhaps next time, I’ll finally make it to the MoMA; until then, I’ll bask fondly in the city’s torrid details.

Los Angeles–the city of dreams. My twin sister lives in California, so it’s a state I visit often, but most of my stops are further up the coast in San Francisco, Santa Cruz, and Sonoma.

So, when I heard Catherine, the other half of the fantastic AsianCajuns, planned to hit the SoCal spot with her boyfriend Troy, I just had to get her take. Not only do Catherine and her twin sister Lauren (whom you read all about her travels to Scotland here) write the most fashionable blog in Atlanta, they are experienced travelers, and just plain fun.

Here’s Cath’s refreshing postcard … feel free to read this post while wearing sunglasses indoors, that’s so L.A.

This sign on the Santa Monica Fred Segal made me instantly happy. We had just eaten at the Umami Burger located inside and it was one of the best burgers I've ever had.

Meet Sammie the seagull. Troy and I named him as well sipped margaritas on the beach at Paradise Cove-a tourist trap in Malibu.

I fell in love with Ivanhoe Books in Silver Lake. It's an architect, design bookstore/home store and is like walking into a Dwell or Domino editorial.

Apollo Grill in Burbank is the most unassuming eatery in all of L.A., but has the most amazing breakfast burritos.

We spent five days in Santa Monica. The pier reminds me a little bit of the beach towns in England. It's perfect beach town kitschy-ness.

We rode a tandem bike along Santa Monica, Venice and Manhattan Beach and had so much fun we rented the bike again the next day.

Troy and I love a good beer. We stayed at the Farmer's Daughter Hotel for a few days and stocked up at the nearby Bev Mo with some west coast beers.

No trip to L.A. would be complete without an In-N-Out Burger. The burger and fries definitely live up to the hype!

We met up with my cousin for dinner at this amazing ramen place in downtown L.A.

There’s something about a brooding, throaty Scottish accent. It’s absolutely my favorite. And it doesn’t hurt that I’m actually Scottish, at least the Hazels side of me is. According to a really old photo album put together by my late Grandma Mary, the Hazels clan has roots in what was Forfarshire, Scotland, today better known as Angus (which sounds about right what with the stockiness of those Hazels’ genes). Also, is it just me or does Forfarshire sound like a made-up place in Shrek?

I’m not alone in my Scottish penchant–fellow twins and bloggers extraordinaire, Catherine and Lauren (or Cath and Lar) the lovelies behind the über-popular (and just featured on Glamour.com’s Smitten Guide) Asian Cajuns adore the UK isle as well.

Lar was just in Scotland, and next month, you’ll get to read all about Cath’s Los Angeles adventures. So, here’s a twin and Scottish love collaboration in recap form.

I'm absolutely a city girl, but the rugged rural parts of Scotland could totally convince me to forgo the frenzied, smoggy city-life. The air is so clean, and everything has this gorgeous fresh scent. You know those romanticized postcards of rolling green hills, wispy clouds and full rainbows? The real thing puts them to shame.

We started out our trip in the rugged gorgeousness of the Highlands. During August and early September the heather (small purple flowers) bloom and the country is covered in greens and purples. We also (not exaggerating) saw frequent fully arched rainbows as we stepped out for a hike.

After a morning of hiking, we stop by a pub for a pint or a cup of tea and crumbly, buttery shortbread. A cup of tea and a nibble (or gobbling) of shortbread is a perfect antidote to any cloudy or rainy weather you might experience in Scotland. I swear I almost wanted more rain and lower temperatures just to get to wrap my hands around a warm mug of tea.

There are more sheep than people in Scotland. Up in the highlands you will actually feel like it is only you and sheep and maybe a few highland coos (cows). Sheep are rather... sheepish, so I could only get a few snaps of them as they scampered away from my camera.

Not the most attractive name for a delicious dish, but I swear cullen skink is something you should try, especially if you love smoked fish. Cullen is a town in Scotland and "skink" essentially means "shank." So think, shank-of-smoked-fish-soup-from-the-town-of-Cullen. Better? Well, any way you say it, I swear it's divine. We stumbled across a beautiful pub in the heart of the highlands just as a chilly mist was clearing. The minute we walked in, the smell of fresh baked bread and smoked fish had our mouths watering. They served it with a bit of sour cream and scallions on top.

Ptarmingan (prounced "Tar-mi-gan") is just outside of the large-ish town of Pitlochry. We stayed at this beautiful B&B (Ptarmingan House), on our way down from Edinburgh. The rooms were gorgeous, the breakfast fry-up delicious, and place was run by a family of Olympic Curlers. Really. Those curling stones in the photo are not just for show.

Ahhh... Edinburgh. I spent six months living in Edinburgh when I was in college and loved every minute of my stay. The best way to describe it is a small-scale London (obviously, with a Scottish accent). There is a great deal of history and beauty everywhere. It's not as big as it's neighbor to the west (Glasgow), but it's infinitely more charming.

We took a tiny break from our tea drinking one afternoon and stopped in at Chocolate Soup. As the name suggests, they do indeed serve melted chocolate in a bowl. I went for their classic hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and more... chocolate.

Edinburgh shopping is really good. There's the classic British high street shops like Top Shop, H&M, Zara, Monsoon, etc., but really the best shopping is in the Old Town. Heading down to Grass Market I stumbled across an artists' co-op, a graphic design bookstore (swoon!), and this boutique (photographed) called Swish. And don't miss all the great thrifting you can do at the second-hand shops that line Nicolson St. (Oxfam, Cancer Research, etc.).

After a day of sight-seeing and shopping (and eating) in Edinburgh, we headed back to our carriage house in Tranent (just a few miles east of the city). The carriage house we rented is on the grounds of Fa' Side Castle, and we had amazing views of the city from there. On our last evening in Edinburgh the world-famous Edinburgh Festival was coming to a close. We watched a stunning display of fireworks give us a beautiful send-off.