What About Your Duck Pond?

“What about your duck pond?” asked Cameron Hewitt while updating the Rick Steves France guidebook. Gérard’s eyes fell as he said, “Sadly, we no longer have ducks in our pond. A hawk moved in and began picking them off, one each day, until they were all gone.”

Cameron spends as much time as I do researching and updating Rick Steves guidebooks. As I pack and finalize plans for my next trip (less than a week now), I’m featuring travel blogs from our Travelers’ Café for a few days. On his latest trip, Cameron has been working on our France guidebook and reporting from the field. In this excerpt, Cameron (who’s clearly recovered from his bout with cassoulet) shows the joy and care we bring to our work, particularly when it comes to making connections with accommodations that have personality:

I had one particularly lengthy, but very enjoyable, interaction at a countryside hotel near the Dordogne River Valley, called Moulin de Fresquet. The owners, Gérard and Claude, have converted an ancient mill into an idyllic retreat. Gérard greeted me in the driveway and proceeded to show me each of their five rooms — all of them different, but all of them equally well cared for. He told me about the ghost who haunts the mill, showed me a copy of the innkeeper’s memoir he wrote and published (unfortunately, so far available only in French), and took me on a guided tour of the lush, parklike grounds. The place is less a hotel than an enchanting fantasyland.

When I was leaving, Gérard asked me, “Excuse me. Do you know what happened to Karen Brown?” It took me a moment to realize who he meant. In the 1990s and early 2000s, Karen Brown wrote a series of guidebooks highlighting romantic, upscale, characteristic inns. (Back then, Rick used to say, “My splurges are Karen Brown’s slums.”) She had a very devoted following, but her niche became one of the casualties when printed guidebooks were eclipsed by online sources.

Genuine affection filled Gérard’s voice as he described how Karen would come personally to visit and update her guidebook each year, and even brought her entire family on holiday once. This wasn’t just a business relationship; it was a friendship. “I wrote a letter to her several months ago and never heard back,” Gérard told me. Since Karen and I are both in the guidebook biz, he figured maybe I knew her. (Karen, if you’re reading this, get in touch with Gérard and Claude! You know, they worry.)

To read the rest of this entry — and lots more from France — be sure to check out Cameron’s blog.

Cassoulet Must Be French for “Bowl of Farts”

While I don’t read much “travel literature,” I love to read other travelers’ blogs and journals. And at the Travelers’ Café on my website, we’ve lots going on right now, with live blogging from my kids (Andy and Jackie in Southeast Asia), my niece (Nicolina in India, with her “Hearts of the World” project), and my favorite partner in travel writing these days, Cameron Hewitt (currently traveling in France).

Cameron co-authors several of my guidebooks, and is one of our most prolific in-house writers. He’s reporting from France and boldly sharing his take on places he’s researching. Anyone who can write, “The most famous local dish is a bland casserole of beans and old meat called cassoulet, which I believe is French for ‘bowl of farts’”…gets my respect. While he loves France, he’s not so sure about Carcassonne. Be sure to visit his blog for his frank appraisal, and to enjoy much more of his hard-hitting and insightful reporting.

More from Jackie Steves in Bali

My daughter Jackie continues her blog reporting on her Southeast Asian adventure. Here are a few random bits from her latest entry. After reading these excerpts, you can head on over to get the full story of her first day ever in that amazing hemisphere:

When I experience a new place for the first time, I want to find all of the reasons to love it and to embrace even the apparent “negatives” as opportunities to step outside my comfort zone. From what I have heard (from friends, pop culture, and Eat, Pray, Love), Bali was going to be heaven on earth. My first evening here, however, was less than blissful.

Airport ATMs that take Visa — all broken. Seas of men approaching me, saying, “Taxi? Transport? Where you going?” “No thank you,” I would reply. But then they would follow me. Dude, no means no.

Imagine streams of motorcycles and cars braiding in and out. No one bothers to check their blind spots. At multiple-lane intersections with no stoplights, cars don’t stop — and barely yield — creating a massive convergence of vehicles absent rhyme or reason (at least, to my Western eyes).

We were fairly warned: Kuta is where Aussies go to party. We somehow found the exception: a quirky local surfer party. Balinese surfing instructors rocking Billabong and long wavy locks. Love it.

Read more about Jackie’s Southeast Asian travels!

3-after-checking-in-at

The Steves Kids Head for Southeast Asia…And They’re Taking You Along

As a father, I am so excited that our two twentysomething children, Andy and Jackie, are embarking on a one-month adventure in Indonesia, Vietnam, and Thailand. Jackie is a great writer, and Andy is an expert at stirring up fun with his video camera rolling. Together they’ll be reporting on their Southeast Asia vacation over the next month in our Travelers’ Café. I’ll be connecting Jackie and Andy with you a few times here on Facebook. Check in on their fun if you’re curious about how college-aged American travelers backpack around Southeast Asia these days.

Read Jackie’s blog!

Jackie had an overnight layover in Hong Kong on the way to Bali. Here’s a bit of her report. Click through for the whole story to see how young, thoughtful Americans find constructive challenges to their long-held perspectives.

From Jackie Steves in Hong Kong: “I wandered down a thoroughfare of Kowloon to the city’s famed harbor. The “Avenue of Stars” is a double-entendre — a tribute to the stars of the silver screen, and a salute to the bright lights of Hong Kong Island’s skyline across the water. My Chicagoan ego suffered a bruise. We boast tremendous, glimmering skyscrapers, but I’m afraid Hong Kong still outdoes us. It made me feel like a member of the humanist Enlightenment; rather than focusing on a God who, on the seventh day, looks upon His creation and says “It is good,” this manmade spectacle inspires any human to say, “Damn, we did good.” And even as a liberal who loves to disparage the drawbacks of capitalism, I had to acknowledge that this massive symbol of modern materialism — riddled with names of corporate brands and massive banks — was just plain beautiful.”

Mystery Images Caption Roundup

Thanks to all of you for playing along with my silly photo caption posts. (I’m sorry if some of you didn’t realize I was just goofing around.) Here are my favorites of the hundreds of clever captions you proposed:

 

I shot this killing time with a fine sunset on the south coast of Greece. I liked these clever captions:

  • Best OB/GYN visit ever.
  • I started my juggling class, but got hungry instead.
  • Who needs Viagra?

Oranges with a view

 

This sign on a coffee machine at breakfast in Antibes caught my eye. While it means “out of service,” I like your captions much better:

  • Blonde, brunette, or redhead?
  • The service of our hors will have you screaming for merci.
  • Fingering it here should make it work.
  • Either this means “out of service,” or we’re in for a real treat.

Hors Service - Out of Service

 

This painting of the French war hero Massena in Nice came with a remarkable moustache, and these captions explain it all:

  • Clearly, this fashion trend has yet to come around again.
  • I mustache you a question.
  • Beard or mustache? Decisions, decisions… Oh, wait! Both!
  • Now, son, everything my beard points to is our land.
  • Nigel was disappointed to only win third place in the Portland Mr. Hipster Pageant.
  • And that was the end of the royal bloodline.

three-beards

 

Friends back in my hometown of Edmonds, Washington, asked me to help celebrate our town’s 125th birthday with a sign. So here, at Pisa’s Camposanto Cemetery, I let my fingers do the talking: 125. But I like these captions better:

  • Look Mom, I can count!
  • Tour guide gang sign.
  • How does a bad left-handed carpenter order ten beers?
  • This explains everything you need to know about the metric system in Europe.
  • A quick satanic blessing…and…action!

Hand gestures

 

This is simply my toiletry kit with my late-night snacks, but these captions work great:

  • Every good traveler knows: Keep your oranges clean and well-shaven.
  • My expense account isn’t what it used to be.
  • Items confiscated by Italian airport security.
  • What? Oranges and no deodorant? What was I thinking?
  • Sometimes, even for seasoned travelers, the language barrier presents insurmountable room service hurdles.

toiletries-and-oranges

 

This advertising poster behind bars caught my eye in Santa Margherita Ligure. And your captions make it fun:

  • Here, on a tiny alley in Venice, we see a shrine for the patron saint of ugly swimsuits.
  • European prisons take a progressive approach: Prisoners don’t do time, they do yoga and water aerobics.
  • What happens when the fashion police actually catch you.
  • Just press the button on the Hors Service box to get in…

Behind Bars

 

I was surprised how many knew this restaurant in Avignon (and really liked it). I just shot the photo because the sign struck me as goofy (since I don’t speak French). With a name like “The Gout of the Day,” I figured, “It’s no wonder the tables were empty.” Here are your captions:

  • I’ll have the Gout du Jour, with a side of acid reflux
  • Le Gout du Jour, a place to stop and put your feet up, with hopes that pain in the toe will go away.
  • Le Gout today, Le Gone tomorrow.
  • So gout it hurts!
  • Gout to get you into my life.

Le Gout du Jour

 

These statues in Nice seemed to make a fun pair. Thanks for the explanations:

  • Where’s that smell coming from?
  • Photobummed!
  • Oh, to relax under a full moon and watch the sky.
  • My pigtails are up here.
  • Emboldened by her new shampoo and conditioner, Annabel visits a nude beach in Europe…but cannot stomach all the views.
  • Moon Over My Mammaries

Nice statues