Discussion:
Family Travels
(too old to reply)
David Lubkin
2010-09-04 02:41:37 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 09:43:31p (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
Only two Chinese restaurants in Israel. . .Okay, I realize this was
back a few, but still, it is appalling! [g]
Yes. But there was a used bookstore with sf paperbacks from South Africa, so
life wasn't beyond bearing.


-- David.
Lawrence Watt-Evans
2010-09-04 03:29:18 UTC
Permalink
No Chinese restaurants open in Barcelona over Christmas? My G*d, what do the
Jews do?!
I dunno. I'm not sure how many Jews there ARE in Barcelona.
I think I would like French Chinese food as I am as fond of mushrooms as many
a hobbit.
Kiri liked it.
Now when you say Italian Chinese is more like Chinese Chinese, do you have a
particular sort of Chinese Chinese in mind?
Beijing.
--
My webpage is at http://www.watt-evans.com/
The Final Calling is serialized at http://www.ethshar.com/TheFinalCalling01.html
Realms of Light is serialized at http://www.watt-evans.com/realmsoflight1.html
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:20:02 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Lawrence Watt-Evans (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 10:29:18p (GMT-06:00) Central Time (US & Canada)
No Chinese restaurants open in Barcelona over Christmas? My G*d, what do the
Jews do?!
Just a joke.
I dunno. I'm not sure how many Jews there ARE in Barcelona.
I think I would like French Chinese food as I am as fond of mushrooms as many
a hobbit.
Kiri liked it.
Now when you say Italian Chinese is more like Chinese Chinese, do you have a
particular sort of Chinese Chinese in mind?
Beijing.
What's Beijing cuisine like?
Lawrence Watt-Evans
2010-09-04 15:55:46 UTC
Permalink
Post by Esther Friesner
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 10:29:18p (GMT-06:00) Central Time (US & Canada)
Post by Lawrence Watt-Evans
Now when you say Italian Chinese is more like Chinese Chinese, do you have a
particular sort of Chinese Chinese in mind?
Beijing.
What's Beijing cuisine like?
Northern Chinese -- doesn't use a lot of sweet sauces, wheat noodles
rather than rice noodles, not very spicy but very savory, lots of
dumplings but they're drier than the southern styles.
--
My webpage is at http://www.watt-evans.com/
The Final Calling is serialized at http://www.ethshar.com/TheFinalCalling01.html
Realms of Light is serialized at http://www.watt-evans.com/realmsoflight1.html
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 19:36:36 UTC
Permalink
YUM!!!
David Lubkin
2010-09-04 02:47:38 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 09:47:51p (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
So holing up in a small space is a trip back to a very happy
childhood
I'm also claustrophilic. I'd often be behind or under something, preferably
with my dog. At Seders at my grandparents, I'd escape the smelly relatives I
saw once a year by hiding under the dining room table.
I suppose this would make me a great candidate for sleeping in one
of those Japanese capsule hotels
I'd like to try one one of these days. Sometimes I'm in after midnight and up
for the day early. I hate paying for a snazzy room that I'll be awake for about
half-an-hour in.


-- David.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:18:43 UTC
Permalink
I have heard of a New York hotel called the Pod, but don't know if the rooms
are pod-like. I know some are not.

But it is supposed to be quite cheap.

IIRC the cheaper rooms are of the shared or down-the-hall bathroom sort. I
dealt with that last in Amsterdam, ages ago, when I stayed at a small B&B for
one night before my flight home. I did have a sink (small) in my room but the
rest of the bathroom amenities were shared. Did Not Want.

On the plus side, there was the B&B cat who strode into my room and decided
I would do. So I got to have much-needed feline emotional support. (And I
can just imagine if the cat had walked into the room of someone NOT an ailurophile,
especially if they were Entitled [as opposed to allergic]. Fussfussfuss.)

Pets are, for me, part of the charm of B&Bs as long as I don't have to share
the bathroom.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-03 22:15:24 UTC
Permalink
Oh my, Mary, it sounds ideal!

We have "summer people" here, but they are very low impact as we are not a big
name destination. They do the genteel thing and come back to their cottages
year after year. I don't know a single one of them.

But then, I am a hermit. Get off my lawn! (And I don't live by the shore.)
Esther Friesner
2010-09-03 22:13:14 UTC
Permalink
David, what wonderful memories! I'm still laughing over your father's bee-line
driving and the rabbi's part in it all.

I never thought I'd see tarvel stories to put our night-in-the-police-station
in the shade. [G]

Funny thing about the Chinese restaurant part of it: Only this morning Annie
was talking about how people form the U.S. always get a craving for Chinese
food wherever they go.

Well, years back, I went to Europe with a friend and we both got a craving for
corned beef sandwiches. It was a kind Providence that allowed it to happen
while we were in London. We were visiting another friend--an et-pat Yalie,
who told us corned beef sandwiches--even unto New York style--were no problem,
and off we went to Golder's Green.

As some of you know, that's the famed Jewish section of London. Corned beef
was NOT a problem, and it -was- delicious!
Lawrence Watt-Evans
2010-09-03 22:23:14 UTC
Permalink
Post by Esther Friesner
Funny thing about the Chinese restaurant part of it: Only this morning Annie
was talking about how people from the U.S. always get a craving for Chinese
food wherever they go.
Which led Kiri and me to attempt to dine at a Chinese restaurant in
every country we visited.

We found very nice ones in Rome and Florence, and Italian Chinese food
is much like American, only better (and slightly more like Chinese
Chinese). French Chinese food seems to go heavy on lots of different
kinds of fungus. English Chinese food skimps on the vegetables, but
does the meats and sauces well.

And in Barcelona, the Chinese restaurants were all closed for
Christmas -- ALL TWELVE DAYS of Christmas -- while we were there.
--
My webpage is at http://www.watt-evans.com/
The Final Calling is serialized at http://www.ethshar.com/TheFinalCalling01.html
Realms of Light is serialized at http://www.watt-evans.com/realmsoflight1.html
Esther Friesner
2010-09-03 23:03:55 UTC
Permalink
No Chinese restaurants open in Barcelona over Christmas? My G*d, what do the
Jews do?!

I think I would like French Chinese food as I am as fond of mushrooms as many
a hobbit.

Now when you say Italian Chinese is more like Chinese Chinese, do you have a
particular sort of Chinese Chinese in mind?
David Lubkin
2010-09-03 23:13:28 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 06:13:14p (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
David, what wonderful memories! I'm still laughing over your
father's bee-line driving and the rabbi's part in it all.
Thanks. There's more; my family is colorful. But that's plenty for now.
Funny thing about the Chinese restaurant part of it: Only this
morning Annie was talking about how people form the U.S. always get
a craving for Chinese food wherever they go.
Now, once we got to Israel, there were only two Chinese restaurants in the country.
The one in Haifa I went to; the chefs were all Greek. The other one was in Jerusalem,
and was started by Mandy Rice-Davies when she left England after her role in
the Profumo scandal.


-- David.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 01:43:31 UTC
Permalink
Only two Chinese restaurants in Israel. . .Okay, I realize this was back a few,
but still, it is appalling! [g]
Karen Williams
2010-09-04 06:04:08 UTC
Permalink
I went to a science fiction convention in Bergen, Norway (their first), and
got there a few days early to sight see. The con committee very nicely took
me and the friends I was with (Kit was the guest of honor) out to dinner at
the local Chinese restaurant. I don't think I've ever, before or since, had
Chinese food without any spice. I'm not even sure they used salt. The Norwegians
were quite proud of the fact that they had a Chinese restaurant, though, so
I didn't comment on its blandness. The Italian restaurant was similar.

Karen
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:23:41 UTC
Permalink
When my in-laws lived in the Twin Cities part of Minnesota, I found a local
humor book called SCANDINAVIAN HUMOR AND OTHER MYTHS.

I do wish I still had it. It described the Scandinavian-American phenomenon
of White Cuisine which--per the book--was that all foods must either BE white
or be rendered white by peeling or covering with a white sauce, and under NO
CIRCUMSTANCES was the use of "sharp and dangerous" spices to be allowed.

YOu know what they say about truth and humor, eh?
Esther Friesner
2010-09-03 22:16:12 UTC
Permalink
Well, I challenge you to show me one teenager who -does- appreciate the same-old,
same-old.
Melissa Mead
2010-09-04 00:09:42 UTC
Permalink
One summer, when I was a teenager and my sisters were around 9 and 12, my parents
built a wooden box with a prop-up lid the size of a king-sized bed, and fastened
it to the top of their van. They put a king-sized mattress in there, and another
mattress the back of the van, and packed up enough clothes and whatnot to last
for a month and a half.

We spent the next 6 weeks driving around the country, sometimes sleeping in
motels, sometimes parking the van and The Box at a campground.

Yep. 5 people, for 6 weeks, in 1 van. We had a ball. ;D We saw Yellowstone,
the Great Salt Lake, the Grand Canyon, Lake Mead (of course), Vegas, the Rockies,
the San Diego Zoo... there was even a side trip to Tijijuana.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 01:48:38 UTC
Permalink
OTOH I also really like BIG lodgings, like hotel suites, or even really spacious
rooms with many amenities.

The middle ground is. . .mnyeh.
Melissa Mead
2010-09-04 02:22:00 UTC
Permalink
Actually, The Box was for my parents to sleep in. Gave 'em some privacy from
the kids. ;> But we got to hang out in it sometimes.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:09:11 UTC
Permalink
But--but--but--! But The Box is so perfect as a Sooper Sekrit Fort!

Yeah, I was one of those people reincarnated from being a cat in dire need of
Boxhab. I got more play mileage out of old boxes than most any other toy.
Melissa Mead
2010-09-04 15:29:59 UTC
Permalink
We used it as a fort when they weren't sleeping in it. ;)

It was actually quite open with the lid up, which was how we used it. (With
the lid down, there was no air.)
Melissa Mead
2010-09-04 02:24:02 UTC
Permalink
Did you ever make a bubble fort? Drape 1 end of a sheet over a box fan, weight
all but 1 opening down with books, + turn on the fan. It puffs up and is nice
and cool inside.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:10:04 UTC
Permalink
Ooooh, Bubble Fort! No, I never did that. And it comes to me too late to implement
same. Drat.

Though I bet my folks never would have allowed it. Whirling blades o' doom
and all that.
Melissa Mead
2010-09-04 15:31:46 UTC
Permalink
Our fan had a grid over the Whirling Blades of Doom.

At our age, you just need bigger sheets. Or 2 pinned together. ;)
And you have to lie down.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 01:47:51 UTC
Permalink
Oh, -nice!- The idea of The Box really appeals to me, for some reason. I think
it is a throwback to my childhood when I was a great builder of (indoor) forts.
I had a small table that used to be the base of my highchair and given that
and a sheet, I was set!

Of course I also did the two-chairs-and-a-sheety model.

And my folks bought me the Davy Crockett (I think it was) cardboard "log" cabin,
too.

But the furniture forts were -much- better.

So holing up in a small space is a trip back to a very happy childhood, and
might account for why I also really like thpse individual sleeper compartments
on trains.

I suppose this would make me a great candidate for sleeping in one of those
Japanese capsule hotels, but that's not gonna happen. (Because I think they
are for men only, and also I think I might not be limber enough for it. But
who knows?)
David Lubkin
2010-09-03 19:58:55 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Fri 03 Sep 2010 03:43:45p (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
With the coming of autumn, one waxes nostalgic, and so I would love
to hear from those of you who read here whether you have any
particular fond memories of travels--not necessarily summer
vacation trips, but any sort of travels--taken with your parent/s.
We got to Israel via Europe. Many memories from the trip. Here's a sampling.

After a couple of weeks with my stepmother's parents in England, my father asked
me if I wanted to go to Paris with him. In half an hour. We bought a Citroen
at the factory, and brought it back to England. After another week, we headed
back to the Continent.

My father insisted on finding a Chinese restaurant everywhere we went. In Luxembourg,
we found the only one.

In Geneva, he couldn't figure out how to get where we were going, but he could
see it. So, leveraging the unique suspension system of the Citroen, he drove
us down a flight of stairs.

We were in Lugano for my sister's birthday. We asked the desk clerk where we
could buy a birthday cake for her. She told us there was a very nice bakery
just down the road. By way of recommendation, she elaborated, "We get our pain
there."

Naples to Israel was by boat. All the meals were kosher, under the direct supervision
of a skinny rabbi. Because he didn't like to eat, he didn't think anyone else
should. So he'd only approve of meat if it was boiled. But he liked me, so he
let them roast chicken for me. After it was boiled first....


-- David.
Mary Osmanski
2010-09-03 21:02:02 UTC
Permalink
And I will say this for where I grew up: When I went to Bermuda as an adult,
it reminded me of home. Every place I have ever been along the coast in southern
France, whether it was the Midi or the Atlantic coast, has reminded me of home.

Home was nicer than I ever gave it credit for when I was a teenager. :-)
Mary Osmanski
2010-09-03 20:58:41 UTC
Permalink
I can recall only two trips of any kind with my parents when I was a child,
and one was to attend a funeral. [I'm not counting one-day trips to Disneyland,
to Baja California, etc.]

I also remember my mother explaining to me why we didn't take vacation trips.
We lived in a town that was considered a resort community. There were beaches
for me, there were plenty of tennis courts for my parents, and the weather was
wonderful. Why did we need to go someplace else? According to my mother, we
didn't. My father was a writer, which meant he could make his own hours, and
that meant my parents were able to play tennis every afternoon that they wanted
to and my mother could take me to the beach whenever I wanted to go. There
was no stressful office job for either parent to take a vacation =from=.

Other people came to visit us on =their= vacations.
Karen Williams
2010-09-04 06:00:12 UTC
Permalink
My mother, brother, and I lived in Idaho. My mother's side of the family lived
in east Texas. My mother, who was a college professor, had the summers off,
and on many occasions we drove from Pocatello to Tyler and back. Driving through
the Rockies was spectacular, but then we'd get to Nebraska. It wasn't until
I was much older that I heard the song "I'd Hate to Wake Up Sober in Nebraska",
but coming out of the Rockies into the flatlands makes me understand that song.

My mother and I went to England for the first time when I was a teenager, and
I got a horrible case of chicken pox. But that's another story.

Karen
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:25:01 UTC
Permalink
Well, feel free to tell the chicken pox story, if you wish.

But yes, flatland travel. . .On at least one of our cross-country drives, we
drove through Kansas. The long way.

Thank G*d for comic books.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-05 01:06:26 UTC
Permalink
I was in my teens and visiting England with my folks when I demanded to be allowed
free rein in London. It was my intention to go to the offices of Hammer Films
because of -course- Christopher Lee would be there, wouldn't he? And I would
get to go "Squeeee!" at him, in a perfectly reserved, sophisticated manner,
of course.

Not that I told my parents the details, just that I wanted to go around London
on my own.

Well, there was a BIG hooraw and a loud "NO!" and then, after much more hooraw
and epic sulking on my part and further hooraw. . .they said yes.

And behold, I went to the Hammer offices and did my best to sound British, so
as to blend in.

"What, are you from Australia?" they asked me. Gah! It was to perish of teh
embarrassment. And no, Christopher Lee was nowhere on the premises! And I
had brought some wonderful cartoons that I (and a much more artistically talented
friend) had drawn of him! And NOW what?

Well, the nice people at Hammer said they would take the cartoons and pass them
along to him, and by heaven, they DID! I think. I know this because I received
a letter from someone purporting to be his representative reporting that he
was Amused and thought I had talent.

Not that I put my actual -name- on the cartoons. Nope. I used a pseudonym,
slyboots that I was. My correct home address, and a fake name. [sigh]

Is it any wonder I wound up in the fantasy racket?

But at least I did get to hare around London on my own, just a bit.

Not a patch on my Tokyo wanderings, but that happened much later, when no one
had to give me permission for it.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 12:14:30 UTC
Permalink
Gosh, the used bookstore reminds me of the sometimes dire lack of reading material
to be found on travels. My folks despaired because we'd be tarveling through
gorgeous scenery and there I'd be, nose in a book. "Look at the Alps!" they
would cry in vain. I would raise my head, glance at the Alps, pronounce them
"Yeah, nice" and return to my book.

But when we were in lands where I did not speak/read the language and had run
out of reading material. . .gah!

I still recall desperately trying to follow a Silver Surfer comic in Italian.
And the only English paperbacks available at one roadside shop were either
erotica or The Satanic Bible by Anton Sandor LaVey (which IIRC, I later heard
was ghost-written by our genre's own Mike Resnick.) Yeah, I bought it. It
was hilarious.

Stuff like this is why I read whatever the heck is the Taoist classic in -Spanish.-
And made marginal notes.

Ah, the life of the bookworm!
David Lubkin
2010-09-04 15:20:24 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Sat 04 Sep 2010 08:14:30a (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
Post by Esther Friesner
Gosh, the used bookstore reminds me of the sometimes dire lack of
reading material to be found on travels. My folks despaired because
we'd be tarveling through gorgeous scenery and there I'd be, nose
in a book. "Look at the Alps!" they would cry in vain. I would
raise my head, glance at the Alps, pronounce them "Yeah, nice" and
return to my book.
When I was 12, my mom took me to a conference at MIT. She was busy all week;
I was expected to roam Cambridge and Boston. On the first day, I went to the
Student Union and discovered the Lensman series. I read one a day, curled up
in a chair, in rapture.

After sufficient nagging, I went to Boston. Bored, I returned to my chair and
my books, and just lied to her for the rest of the week about where I was.


-- David.
David Lubkin
2010-09-04 19:46:49 UTC
Permalink
Quoth Esther Friesner (***@sff.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Sat 04 Sep 2010 03:36:02p (GMT-05:00) Eastern Time (US & Canada)
And I owuld have been delighted to be allowed to explore a strange
city on my own. Even now, it is a high point of travel, nosing
about such unfamiliar turf.
I did on the trip to Europe. For instance, at Cyprus, I was told to go have
fun and be back at the docks by five. At 12, with no money, speaking only English.

It stuns me to think how much I was permitted then that I might still be uncomfortable
with my twenty-something daughter doing.


-- David.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-04 19:36:02 UTC
Permalink
Quoth David Lubkin (***@lubkin.net)
in (***@news.sff.net)
on Sat 04 Sep 2010 10:20:24a (GMT-06:00) Central Time (US & Canada)
Post by David Lubkin
Eastern Time (US & Canada)
Post by Esther Friesner
Gosh, the used bookstore reminds me of the sometimes dire lack of
reading material to be found on travels. My folks despaired because
we'd be tarveling through gorgeous scenery and there I'd be, nose
in a book. "Look at the Alps!" they would cry in vain. I would
raise my head, glance at the Alps, pronounce them "Yeah, nice" and
return to my book.
When I was 12, my mom took me to a conference at MIT. She was busy
all week; I was expected to roam Cambridge and Boston. On the first
day, I went to the Student Union and discovered the Lensman series.
I read one a day, curled up in a chair, in rapture.
After sufficient nagging, I went to Boston. Bored, I returned to my
chair and my books, and just lied to her for the rest of the week
about where I was.
LOL!

And I owuld have been delighted to be allowed to explore a strange city on my
own. Even now, it is a high point of travel, nosing about such unfamiliar turf.

Though I suppose if you are doing it in a climate of Enforced Cultural Appreciation,
it's another story, as the Alps were one of Enforced Scenic Appreciation.
Russ Handelman
2010-09-06 22:26:22 UTC
Permalink
Our family travels consisted of going to "the country house." In 1937, my
father's parents bought a "place" in central Connecticut, a tiny, ancient farmhouse
set among fields, brooks, and backing on woods that are now part of a state
forest. During World War II, they'd stay up there all summer, growing Victory
Gardens and raising chickens, and the house has remained in the family ever
since; now owned by my father.

Every summer, at some point we would get our "week" there (during my grandparents'
lifetimes we also shared the house with my uncles' families). This meant a
week of unstructured time: wading in the brooks looking for frogs, swimming
in the icy-cold pond, playing baseball and croquet in the fields (using old
1930s-era ball gloves and bats and an equally ancient croquet set), working
in the tool-shop making bird houses and toy boats, bushwacking through the woods
in search of old stone walls and the foundations from the early settlers' farms.
Our neighbors, whom my father knew for decades, used to have a huge dairy-farm,
and we'd help get the cows in at night and load hay in the lofts.

This is what we did every summer, for 21 years straight, and I would not have
traded them for any argosy on Earth. After that, we went up for shorter stays,
not all of us at once--people were at college, on other trips, or growing up
and moving out, but we'd still find time to be there together. As I said, the
place is still in the family, and I just got back from the weekend there.
My brother's family came to visit, and my 12-year-old nephew is learning how
to drive the lawn-tractor and run the lawn-mower, and my niece was eager to
hike in the woods as we searched for the Oldest Tree in the Woods, a gigantic
oak with a trunk wider than my outstretched arms, that wouldn't look out of
place in Fanghorn.

All around us, the farms have been chopped up for housing developments, Main
Street is full of national brand stores, but we are holding on, surrounded by
the forest and fields, keeping the same timeless "country life" experience going
for ourselves and our future generations.
Esther Friesner
2010-09-06 23:09:34 UTC
Permalink
Russ, that sounds so beautiful, so idyllic. May it stay with your family from
generation to generation. It's a priceless trasure.

Oddly enough, right now I am reading Colette's final Claudine novel, "Reatreat
from Love," and as always with Colette, the landscape is more lovely and precious
and alive than some of the people.

Your family's summer place is very evocative of Colette, and also of parts of
Lucy Maud Montgmery's work--the Anne of Green Gables books and others.

Thank you.
Susan Shwartz
2010-09-07 00:27:50 UTC
Permalink
How odd, Esther. Coincidentally, I just reread RILLA OF INGLESIDE. It does
sound lovely.

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