Category: Travel Journal (Page 3 of 5)

By Emily King

I am not afraid to admit that I am jealous of Americans who hold true to their cultural backgrounds. They just seem to have so much more fun than “the mutts” that is, those of us who claim wacky fractions: “Well, I’m about a quarter German, an eighth Welsh; I think like another eighth Turkish…or is it Romanian?”  

Sadly, I am one of those Americans living with a heritage-identity crisis. I’m a red-head, enjoy a good Irish whisky, and can pull-off green; so despite the fact that my parents have only acknowledged that Celtic DNA may be part of our genetic make-up, I have decided to embrace the culture as my own.  

This is how it came to pass that I headed up to Flagstaff, AZ to be with “my people” at the Arizona Highland Celtic Festival a few weeks ago.  As usual, I called up my trusty sidekick, J, and convinced him that there is nothing better than bag-piping and corned beef in a cool climate.

Upon our arrival in Flagstaff, we went straight to the old town where we were greeted by live music in Heritage Square. We strolled around listening to the bluegrass band, people-watching, and basking in the wonderful, homey feeling of the small-town.

Later that night, J and I decided that we wanted to experience Flagstaff’s nightlife. This turned out to be more difficult than we had anticipated with the college crowd gone for the summer. Finally, after much wandering and listening intently for the hum of voices and loud-music, we discovered that the place to be that night was at the Flagstaff Brewing Company. While neither of us is particularly crazy about country music, the combination of the energy from the locals, the passion of the musicians, and probably the drinks in our hands moved us to get involved in the most fun “rockabilly” dance party I have ever seen.

The next morning, we headed back downtown for a quick breakfast at Le Creperie, an outdoor crepe stand J saw the day before. He was insistent on returning because he saw that several of the crepes contained Nutella. Let’s just put it this way, if Nutella were a drug, J would need to be in rehab. Luckily, Nutella is a perfectly legal and delicious substance and the crepes at Le Creperie are the perfect canvas for Nutella and the array of other toppings available. Tucked away in the northwest corner of Heritage Square, Le Creperie is a little taste of France. We sat under an overhang and listened to a man sing French songs as he strummed his acoustic guitar. Sunday mornings don’t get much better than that.

After visiting “Little France,” we decided that we should get a move-on to another part of Europe and our reason for visiting the little mountain town in the first place: The Arizona Highland Celtic Festival. We had a fabulous time ducking in and out of tents full of leather and scary-looking weapons. J was set on buying a kilt until he found out that they aren’t exactly the thrift-store deals he is used to. We watched a family, or should I say “Clan,” of Celtic performers play fiddles and dance. This was by far the highlight of the festival in my opinion. These young men and women would rotate between playing their fiddles and dancing and were outstanding at both. I will even admit that their rendition of “Amazing Grace” brought a tear to my eye.

Our next stop was the bag-piping competition. This was incredibly exciting to J because the pipers were in full, traditional uniforms (yes, it was an army of kilts). We watched the teams march and play their songs as the judges weaved in and out of the pack taking notes. Again, we were frozen in amazement. My people sure are talented!

With my cultural cravings fulfilled, it was time to fill my stomach. I smelled corned beef in the air so I made my way over to the food area. I ordered the corned beef platter which consisted of sliced corned beef on rye, pickled cabbage, cheese, and the standard side of potato chips. I couldn’t care less about the bread so I dove into the succulent corned beef and came out with a satisfied tummy and some very greasy hands.

Unfortunately, we missed the formal competition of men in kilts throwing heavy metal objects (trust me, I’m still in mourning), but the festival itself was worth the 2-hour drive from the valley. I have to say that although I have traveled this planet and this country far and wide, Flagstaff remains one of my favorite destinations. Aside from its small-town charm and the rugged beauty of the surrounding natural wonders, it is one of the most artist-friendly communities I have been to.  Whether you’re pining for the warmth of a small town, looking for an outdoor adventure, or want to bask in a community that embraces the arts and diversity, Flagstaff should be an entry in your vehicle’s GPS.

And so my friends, until next time, live well, eat well, and keep your appetite for adventure.

Emily

Hey Soupers!

As it turns out, time really does fly when you’re having fun! I have been so busy working and traveling (Geneva), that when I sat down to write, I couldn’t believe that three weeks had passed. I have so many things to talk about that it’s difficult to find a good place to start, but I think I will begin with life in the French kitchen.

Things have been going smoothly, but occasionally I still get confused due to the language barrier. Nevertheless, the chef has started to really trust me and schedules me to work on the line during service hours. He even scheduled me to work a shift on the line alone!

My first solo performance happened a few weeks ago during a Friday lunch-shift. It was one of the busiest lunches I have ever seen and, get this, the “plat du jour” was fish. For those of you who don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, fish is a delicate meat that can get overcooked very easily. With orders flying in left and right, there was plenty of room for mistakes, but for some reason that day, I was a fish-cooking machine and the plating was going smoothly. I don’t remember exactly how many meals we put out, but at one point we had to extend the plate-up area with an extra cart and a table! Despite the craziness, I was impressed with how well service was going…until…

An irregular order came in and my mind went blank as Chef started yelling out instructions about a duck dish. I didn’t even know duck was on the menu that day! Mind you, this was all happening as we were turning out orders for a party of 18. As I fumbled around trying to complete the dishes for the party, Chef and I bumped into each other and the fish that Chef was plating fell to the floor. Time seemed to freeze as Chef screamed something in French (probably expletives) and looked at me like I had just done the most horrible thing in the world. For a moment, I thought he was going to hit me with the spatula in his hand, but he thought better of it and took out his frustration on the table. Thank goodness for that, because I like my face.

That day, I really felt the pressure of the kitchen and how already-tense situations escalate when there is a language barrier. My co-workers, as much as I like most of them, are not quick to help me jump the barrier. I think they like me to learn from my mistakes, plus I get a sense that it’s kind of fun for them to watch the American squirm. In the end, I got the last laugh because not only did that experience not kill me, it made me stronger and inspired me to improve.

In fact, I have done so well that Chef offered me a job after I graduate! I was super shocked and excited. I have worked long hours and pushed myself to do the best that I possibly can for the two and a half months, and it finally paid off in a bigger way than I could have imagined.

As for my travels, my latest destination was Geneva. It was one of the most relaxing trips I have taken so far. Upon my arrival, I found a little hotel not too far from the lake called Hotel Geneva. I dropped my stuff off, and headed out to have lunch.

I found a little cottage restaurant called “The Cottage” (shocker) where I was seated outside on some antique-looking furniture. I learned from the waiter that the menu changes each day because the chef goes to the market to get fresh ingredients. This is a culinary student’s dream! I ended up getting the salmon tartare and finished up with delicious raspberry sorbet sprinkled with pistachios.

After lunch, I took a walk around the gorgeous lake and explored the botanical gardens. The next day I woke up early because I was leaving that evening, so I wanted to have plenty of time for exploring. I returned to the lake, took a short boat tour, and decided that it was perfect weather to take a swim. The water was clean, clear and exactly the energizer that I needed to get me going on my next mission: to find Stettler’s Chocolate.

I had heard that this was one of the best destinations for chocolate in the area and now I can confirm that. I had a milk chocolate and rosemary truffle, a 5-spice dark chocolate truffle, and a raspberry truffle. I recommend the 5-spice if you ever get the chance to visit!

In my truffle-trance, I headed to the train station because I had to be back for work at 9 AM the next morning. Well, as luck would have it, the French train workers decided that it was a good day to strike, so there was no way I was getting back to Lyon that night. I was freaking out! I didn’t know what to do. I ended up going back to my hotel where the manager took pity on me and gave me my room at a discount for one more night. Thankfully, the strike ended by the next morning and I got back to Lyon just in time for work.

So that’s the latest scoop from Lyon, France. I will be sure to keep you posted on my many adventures to come in this gorgeous country.

Au Revoir,

Coty

Read all of Coty’s experiences in Lyon by clicking here

Words & Pics by David Lee

The tour operator, Muzaffar Shah picked me up from the hotel the day I arrived in Delhi. On leaving the hotel’s gates, I was immediately plunged into the chaos that is India, a place that is most spectacular in every way from the povert to the national monuments. The temperature in Delhi in June is near 110 degrees, and the air is dust dry (much like August in Phoenix). Outside the hotel gates there were people absolutely everywhere; milling about on the side of the road; packed 20 at a time into three wheeled tri-shaws; jammed by the dozens onto truck beds; standing in corrugated tin shacks selling every imaginable product from dried fruit and spices to blow driers and waffle irons. Of course, if you have seen or read anything about India, this is exactly what you expect, but it still shocks the senses.

The first thing I noticed about India is the smell. It is not bad, just entirely different from anything I have ever experienced before. It is a mix of tropical air, dust, spices, pollution, and the overwhelming scent of a billion people. More challenging is the noise. Where Americans consider honking a car horn an act of anger or frustration, in India it is simply communication. There are no traffic lanes – none that are observed at least – so the drivers are forever honking to let people know where they are. To an American, it raises the blood. The sight of women holding the faces of small babies to your car window while methodically tapping on the glass is utterly heart breaking. It makes you want to empty your wallet, but then, it multiplies. It’s no longer one woman and a baby but ten or twenty all tapping on your window so that it sounds like a severe rain storm beating on the roof. Eventually, you come to see that if you give money to one person, you would be mobbed by a hundred more. Your heart closes, your mind turns off, and you drive on. As you move away, so do the women letting the babies drop and hang from a wrap around their neck like a musician letting go of his guitar at the end of a song.

The government buildings of New Delhi including the President’s Palace, the Ministry of Finance, and the Ministry of Defense were our first stop. They were built by the British to resemble the traditional architecture of the various cultures of India. This is unique in the former colonies where the “make the world Britain” philosophy was garishly displayed in their architecture. Nearby is Delhi Gate which is called “the Arc de Triumph of the East.” One hears this type of comparison a lot in Asia. There are a number of cities that call themselves the Paris of the East; there is even an entrepreneur who is called the Richard Branson of the East. Like many of these “of the East” associations, the Delhi Gate is a pale imitation. Thinking about it a bit, if any of these items were truly special, they would not require the “of the East” moniker. Can we imagine seeing a Great Wall of the west or the Taj Mahal of the West, or a Disneyland Europe? They would all be dismal disappointments.

What was not a disappointment was Humayun’s Tomb largely because it was a complete surprise to me and a good lead up to the more famous Taj Mahal. While it is called Humayun’s Tomb, it is actually a large park with several structures that are precursors to the Taj. As you step through the relatively humble gates you see a small tomb on your right for Isla Kahn. Here, Muzaffar Shah explained to me that the three tombs for he, his wife and his child are simply replicas. The actual burial chamber is far below and at an L shaped angle so that no one ever actually steps over the bodies. He stated that this is a common feature with Humayun’s Tomb and the Taj Mahal as well. In the garden, he showed me how the structures are completely symmetrical except for the spot where the gates face Mecca. After exiting this tomb, we walked back to Humayun’s Tomb.  Once through the gate, we entered a truly magnificent place. Not just in terms of the building itself but also the plush gardens and the exacting symmetry. We spent a couple of hours just walking the gardens. The only non-symmetrical element was the addition of the barber’s tomb. Apparently Humayun liked his barber so much; he risked eternal damnation to build him and his wife a tomb next to his. Now that is loyalty.

The next day, we set out early for the drive to Agra. The four hour drive reminded me of a video game. Dodging cars and trucks and trishaws piled with people and jockeying for position is only the half of it. Add to that camels pulling slow carts, cows wandering onto the highway, and people sleeping on the shoulder and you have a potential disaster at almost every turn. If you are jumpy in rush hour traffic, this is not a drive for you.

We arrived in Agra about noon and grabbed some lunch at a local hotel. We then proceeded to the Taj Mahal. This is a process because there are no cars allowed within a mile of the structure. We had to park our car in a lot next to a couple of camels and hitch a ride. It was not clear that the vehicle we got on was official transportation, so we gave them few rupees for the experience. When you are finally through, you are spit out into a huge garden like compound that would itself be a tourist attraction in any other country. Muzaffar spent about 20 minutes here showing me the attention to symmetry and describing the attributes main gate. This included the twenty-two icons on top symbolizing the number of years that it took to build the Taj as well as the Arabic writing done in inlaid marble that grows in height and width as it rises so that it looks perfectly matched to the observer below. I recalled that this technique was used in the Vatican’s St. Peter’s Basilica as well.

There are many tourist attractions in the world that get a lot of hype. Very few of them pay off. The Taj Mahal definitely pays off. It is probably the grandest place I have seen to this point. The fact that it was constructed so long ago only adds to the splendor. The amazing part is not just the plush gardens and massive structures but the attention to detail, the things that you do not see in pictures or on television. All over the building are intricate carvings and designs in inlaid precious stone that touch every square foot of the structure. These designs are, again, perfectly symmetrical over five square miles of marble. The effort required to design and execute this level of coordination without the aide of computers or modern tools is beyond my imagination.

Another interesting aspect, among thousands of interesting aspects, is the two buildings on either side of the tomb. One is a mosque. The other is nothing but a perfect copy of the mosque. It took five years to build this structure, and it serves absolutely no function other than to maintain the symmetry. Sounds like a government project. While the “live” mosque is quite crowded with people paying their respects, the copy is a great place to take pictures unencumbered.

The second site we visited in Agra was the Red Fort. This is supposedly the largest still active fort in India. It is red due the fact that it is made of colored limestone. It was the home of a number of Muhgal kings including Shah Jahan who built the Taj Mahal for his wife Mumtaz Mahal. In fact, he positioned the Taj Mahal so that he could observe its construction from his residence.

The fort is like something from A Thousand and One Nights. On one hand it is a medieval fort with long ramps, tall gates, and high walls. On the other hand, it is a stately palace, on another hand it is a government building, on another hand it is a market place, on another hand… that’s a lot of hands, but we ARE talking about India.

The fort provides a great compliment to the Taj Mahal showing not only the beautiful intricacies of Muhgal architecture but also a view of courtly life. It conveys a feeling of power necessary to control such a vast empire, and, if nothing else, it provides a great, alternative view the Taj Mahal. Standing where Shah Jahan must have stood for twenty-two years watching the tomb for his beloved wife being built one can feel the passion he must have had for her.

I have been to India twice. Once for two days. Once for a week. I long to go back. I have spoken to people who have traveled much more extensively through the country and they all agree. Once you have tasted India, it may shock your system, but it is addictive and leaves you wanting more.

Notes: I would like to make a few additional notes about this trip. One was that the drive to Agra was quite and experience, but the drive home at night in the dark was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. It was enough to put the fear of God into a New York taxi driver. Another note is that despite being extremely careful, I still managed to go on the Delhi Diet (or get Delhi Belly). This occurred because I woke up, forgot where I was and took one bite of an apple that had been placed in my hotel room. I lost ten pound in two days due to a single weak moment. It just proves that you cannot be too aware of your surroundings in India.

Hey Soupers,

It has been a while since my last entry. All I can say is what a few weeks it has been. I have worked late nearly every night and have been really exhausted. I have been on the line more and more which requires me to do more of the plating for the cold food buffet. I did get to take a quick trip to Paris for the weekend, but first the work stuff.

I have gained a huge sense of urgency working here. If I am not doing something even for 5 seconds, I feel as though I am getting lazy. If I am not prepping, working the line or plating, I am cleaning. There is always SOMETHING to clean. If I am standing still, it is because the chef has told me to because he is instructing me.

Some of the best things I get to do include making ratatoullie (sans mouse), desserts including a decent strawberry soup, and prep for the cold foods buffet. I have now sliced so much smoked salmon that I can do it in my sleep. That will be a great skill back to the states. Oh, and smoked duck too. Boy, is that delicious! I have made and plated a few terrines, canapés, salmon tartare, a couple of difference sauces. It all sounds rather simple. I think you would have to experience it to really understand how intense it is.

I have noticed that Chef has been letting me be a bit more independent in the kitchen. He knows I have experience, and he is getting more confident in my abilities. Every now and then, he will afford me the opportunity to be creative. Like the time he asked me to make a cocktail sauce.

First, he asked me if I knew how.  I said, “Yes, but I am not sure if it is the way you want me to make it.” He told me to do it my way. I got pretty nervous because I was worried that he would think “my way” was répugnant. Luckily, he liked it.

The kitchen crew is a lot of fun and a lot of help. They try their best to translate for me when I get confused, and we like to make fun of each other. The fact that I am the only American makes me sort of the target. I am fine with that. I feel like I am starting to fit in which is a relief because I was not sure how I would be accepted.

Every once in a while it is good to see a familiar face. So, this weekend, I decided to make the trip to Paris to see my friend Katie. She is from Phoenix as well and is attending school here. We talked so much because I have not had the chance to speak in English for so long – kind of a strange feeling to look forward to speaking your own language.

I arrived on Friday morning and went to meet Katie at her place. We headed for a small café and then when to the Louvre. How insane is that museum! After three hours, we had not made a dent. I will have to make several trips to truly appreciate it and even then probably never take it in.

That night, I got the chance to cook for Katie, her roommate and another friend. I made a simple sautéed pork dish in a pan sauce with carrots and green beans. Their place had very limited space and utensils, but we made the best of it. I love when people are impressed with what is really a very simple dish. Then we went out for the night – fun.

Saturday, we decided to do picnic under the Eiffel Tower. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. A huge rugby match was going on that day, and it seemed as though an entire city from the south had converged on Paris and centered their activities at the Eiffel Tower. Add to that another crowd that came to see a skater break a world record, and we had total chaos. He did a free fall from the first arch of the Tower 10 meters onto a ramp below. That was awesome!

We spent most the day there, and then I got the opportunity to cook again, this time for 8 people. I did mussels in onions, garlic and some stock with white wine and a side of rice and carrots. I also sautéed some chicken in a creamy white wine pan sauce. It was a good cheap dinner. I think the whole thing cost about 7 euros. We stayed in that night and just talked.

I headed back to Lyon on Sunday and was surprised that I was anxious to get back home. I love Paris and all it has to offer, but I enjoy Lyon more because of the atmosphere, my new colleagues and friends, and my job.  I have lived here now for nearly 2 months and feel that it is really the place for me.

Next time, I will chat about my trip to Geneva and add some pics.

Au revoir,

Coty

Read all of Coty’s experiences in Lyon by clicking here