March 1st, 2011

This will be the second time I posted a insert from the current book I am reading. I previously posted a couple paragraphs from the book Eat, Pray, Love, which spoke about New York City being the city most full of love. I have moved on to yet another Penguin Publishing Book, Three Cups of Tea. I don’t usually favor Penguin Books but I had this book laying around so I thought why not. So far, its quite inspirational and surprisingly humorous at times. It details the story of Greg Mortenson and his quest to build schools high up in the mountains of Pakistan, where some of the world’s most impoverished villages exist.

The paragraph that I felt most related to travel and how we as travelers connect with our experiences, came at the very beginning of the book. It recalls a moment during Mortenson’s attempt at climning K2, the second highest peak in the world, and the highest peak in the Karakoram Range. This specific moment came after he made the realization that he had failed at summitting the peak and due to exhaustion, he was about to head back down the mountain. It reads as follows:

Though Mortenson had already been there for months, he drank in the drama of these peaks like he’d never seen them before. “In a way, I never had,” he explains. “All summer, I’d looked at these mountains as goals, totally focused on the biggest one, K2. I’d thought about their elevation and the technical challenges they presented to me as a climber. But that morning,” he says, “for the first time, I simply saw them. It was overwhelming.”

I think we all know the moral of this paragraph and can think back to a time when we were in the presence of something great but may not have seen it, like truly seen it. Having goals are what keeps us going and its always nice to have a plan. However, sometimes its in your best interest to just let go of your objectives and just see what is right in front of you.

Mortenson, Greg, and David Oliver Relin. Three Cups of Tea. New York: Viking Penguin, 2006. Pages 18-19

July 10th, 2010

I read all sorts of books but my go to genre is travel memoirs, of course. I recently picked up the book “Eat, Pray, Love.” Yes, I said recently. It took me awhile to catch on to the phenomena that is now being made into a feature film staring Julia Roberts. I have to say the book was entertaining but saddening in a very unexpected way. I expected to be inspired by the true story of a woman who traveled the world to find balance in her life. Instead, I finished the book with a deep sense of self awareness and consciousness of limitations.  Self awareness and limitations don’t always play nice.

After reading “Eat, Pray, Love,” I too wanted to go on a transformative journey. I admit, I googled India Ashrams and started clicking through my database of Indian contacts to see if I could get a good recommendation. The reality is I would not last a day in an Indian Ashram! I do love to practice yoga but more in a “wow, my calves look great when I do this pose” kind of way, rather than a “come to jesus” kind of way. I guess that is the purpose of living in an Ashram; to learn how to be more spiritual while practicing yoga. I can get onboard with the spirituality aspect, sounds nice, but then I was reminded that you have to be a vegetarian while you are there. I can be a vegetarian, easily. I always order a side of sauteed vegetables along with 10 other items off the menu (100% of which come from animalistic nature.) So as I was closing my Google search, I decided to put my trip to an Indian Ashram on hold and instead find inspiration in my own neighborhood. Then, like fate, I actually did find some inspiration in this book that I thought was more saddening than inspirational. This expert from page 248 of the book “Eat, Pray, Love” reminded me that I am living in what arguably could be the equivalent to a 22.7 square mile Indian Ashram, better known as the island of Manhattan. (read more)

July 10th, 2010

A few friends and myself decided to put together a midwest meet up in the wonderful city of Chicago. Just between you and me, I adore Chicago and certainly would say it is a contender to my beloved New York City. However, Chicago makes it hard for me to love it (ahem, the weather is terrible.) This is besides the point. The point is Chicago has some great dogs, hot dogs that is.

We arrive in Chicago and my friend, who will forever be a tourist, shows me the itinerary to a food tasting tour that apparently we were signed up for. It looked interesting and I am fan of food tours. However, thanks to a plentiful meal and cocktail party the night before, we were a little “sluggish” the next day and missed the kickoff to our food tour. Therefore, we were left to our devices…Yelp. Being a hot dog fanatic I was destined to eat a Chicago hot dog. I have been bouncing around NYC lately consuming as many dogs as possible (Crif Dogs is leading the pack) and now I wanted to taste Chicago’s version.

We pulled up to the original Portillo’s, oddly I have never been here before. This is a Chicago staple and supposedly the home to the Chicago hot dog. I ordered the Portillo’s original beef dog with all the fixins (warning the peppers are pretty hot.) Verdict: pretty good. I preferred to eat the pickle separate from the hot dog only because I really love hot dogs and I really pickles…I prefer to savor each individually. Honest Verdict: I think a New York Crif Dog would win in a taste test.

The twist to the story is Portillo’s is not the best Chicago hot dog. Hot Doug’s has almost a perfect star rating on Yelp, thanks to over 1,000 user reviews. I also confirmed with a friend and Chicago native that the hype surrounding Hot Doug’s was indeed true. The story behind Hot Doug’s is that you can order a variety of different kind of meats and toppings AND it was featured on Anthony Bourdains, No Reservations. Sounds pretty legit. You may have to wait awhile in line, sometimes hours. Once you make it to the promised land aka the front of the line, I suggest you treat yourself to the Paul Kelly, which is a bratwurst soaked in beer. Do bratwurst count as hot dogs? Well, they do in my book. You also cannot go wrong just ‘The Dog,’ which is your typical Chicago style hot dog.

Other stops we made on our food tour include Gibson’s Steakhouse where we had a few great steaks and probably the best twice baked potato I have ever had. If it wasn’t the best it sure was the biggest. We also made a quick stop at Hugo’s Frog Bar to browse and indulge in their oyster selection.

May 23rd, 2010

I received an email from our Chief Operating Officer, Taylor Scott, while he was attending ASTA’s Young Professional Society Retreat in Jamaica, which sparked a new idea for a blog segment titled, Letters to Mom. You guessed it, this segment will feature letters that we send to our mom’s during our never ending adventures to the far corners of the earth. Who better to spill our most intimate travel details to than mom (and now everyone else!) The following email to Taylor’s lovely mom in Kentucky was written with love from his ” always be dressed in Tommy Bahama” travel perspective. Enjoy…

Mon…I’ve already botched up the immigration process. I came through customs on my own vs proceeding to the Jamaica Tourist Board desk like I was supposed to, and then couldn’t get back in. I thought I was doing it right, but I so went the wrong direction after I grabbed my luggage.

I must have stuck out like a sore thumb with my yellow Polo shirt/Tommy Bahama linen pants/Allen Edwards shoes, and Wynn Las Vegas laptop bag… Because I had no less than 5 “YEAH…NO PROBLEM MON” – Jamaican fellas surrounding me, make’n phone calls to the tourism board desk to take care of me. Next thing I know, I had a guy in front of me, hands me a random cell phone, and says, “hey mon…dis man on phone, him wanna talk to you, Scott.”. It was the Jamaican Tourism Board Manager welcoming me to “dee island mon”. He even went One More Step and sent a representative through the customs gates with my packet and credentials.

Now I’m chill’n with my man Dean Russell, of Tourwise Limited, a travel trade and representative company and his co-workers waiting on my driver. Apparently it’s an hour and a half bus ride to Negril from here. Good thing I’ve also bonded with the bus driver as well.

Oh, and Dean just goes, “Hey Scott…you cool mon? You can go ovah dere and get a Red Stripe or sumpting while you wait…you’re in Jamaica mon.”

#awesome #journey #adventure

- Taylor