Category: Travails of a Guidebook Author

Guidebook Contest Winners!

So I ran a little contest to give away a few copies of my Moon Santa Fe, Taos & Albuquerque guidebook.

To win, you had to guess how many miles I drove recently on my New Mexico research trip.

The answer:

3,284 miles

Uh, that’s a lot. And probably a third of those miles were “Crap, I missed my turn/didn’t see whether that shop was open/made the wrong turn/don’t want to pull in front of that truck with the gun rack so he can see my Obama sticker” kind of miles. I wish I had a chess clock hooked up to the odometer, and I could slap it every time I’m driving pointlessly.

And, let me point out, this is only the first of two research trips. I still haven’t even been north of I-40, and I didn’t do the road through Pie Town and Datil.

So, first of all, thanks to Beverly for letting me use her car. Next time, though, I’m getting a rental, which only seems fair.

Now, the winners.

Technically, I planned to give away two books to the closest guesses. Those two bona fide winners are:

Mitch Hellman of Alotta Gelato, whose guess was only 216 miles off. This guy has a good grasp of the scope of the American West. And he heard me complain about how much driving I have to do.

Gabriella Gonzalez, who works for Rand and is good at quantifying things, I guess. Her guess was 316 miles off. Also, her parents live in Silver City, so she knows how far in the middle of nowhere a lot of places in New Mexico are.

But I’ve got an awful lot of books sitting here. And I admit there was some funny business near the end, when I gave away a monstrous clue (how many tanks of gas I bought: nine). So, at risk of this ending up like American elementary school, where everyone’s a winner, I have to give a copy to:

Nate Rex, who objected to the irregularity, and resubmitted his guess, at 3,100 miles, via Facebook. Really, he was the winner, as he was only 184 miles off.

And to:

Mike Waggoner, who made the closest pre-gas-tank-clue guess, and is someone I genuinely do not know personally. So that’s exciting! Strangers playing, and playing well, should be rewarded!

And I’m giving one last prize to the farthest-off (it would be damaging to the self-esteem to say worst) guess, because I figure this person is most in need of a guidebook!

Linda Olle, who went with 400 miles. And she was allowing for zigzagging. Linda, hope to see you in big, big New Mexico someday soon!

Thanks for playing, everyone! And now you know never to lend your car to me.

New Mexico #4: All Aboard the Rail Runner

The wild West of yore is all about trains and cows and gunslingers and dudes in hats. Today, cattle still roam the range in New Mexico, and folks wear pistols on their hips and hats indoors. But the trains have, for the most part, gone.

Sure, there’s the venerable Super Chief, Amtrak’s service that plods across the desert, often running eight hours late by the time it hits Los Angeles (I know from personal experience), and there’s the scenic Cumbres & Toltec steam train up in Chama.

But for real getting around? People use cars, just like everywhere else in the American West.

This makes me sad, because I am a bit of a train geek. Not a mouth-breathing, clipboard-toting railfan, but someone who really enjoys a good train ride. No bickering with the navigator, no squinting at traffic signs—just pure relaxation as the scenery whisks by. I’ve ridden trains (often with my more-railfannier-than-I-but-still-not-foaming-he-would-like-me-to-assure-you husband) everywhere possible—even in Australia, which made Australians laugh.

This is all leading up to the Rail Runner, Albuquerque’s commuter train. It started service in the ABQ area in 2007, and there was talk of extending to Santa Fe. Miraculously, before I even had time to get cynical about it, the service was running, as of December 2008.

I admit, I got a little teary-eyed watching this video:

So I finally got around to riding the thing on this trip. You’d think it might not be all that exciting—it’s just an hour and a half, and it makes the same trip I’ve made at least a thousand times in my life.

But it was even better! First, just saying the words, “Let’s get the 4:13 train,” while sitting at my mom’s kitchen table outside Albuquerque, was such an amazing novelty.

Then, also, the idea of anyone in New Mexico following a real schedule—also delightfully novel.

On the train, for the first time in my life in Albuquerque, I got to peer into people’s backyards. I saw real, live hobos hunkered down by the freight tracks. (I guessed they were pros, because they didn’t wave at the train, unlike the various regular guys just sitting and drinking by the tracks.) We zipped past bizarre arrangements of industrial scrap in giant junkyards.

So Albuquerque isn’t sounding so scenic.

But after just a little bit, we were out in the back of beyond—not even a road to be seen. At this point, the train conductor advised us not to take photos, at the request of residents in the pueblo lands we were passing through. I wonder where else train passengers are banned from taking photos, and not for security reasons?

This photo was taken before the ban, I swear (and features my dad off to the right):

RailRunner View

The whole area around the last stop in Santa Fe has been swankily redone—what used to be a vast scrubby open space by the tracks is now parkland, and there are galleries and train-station-themed coffee bars. It’s a whole new side of Santa Fe, one not cloaked in faux adobe finish, and if I’d come by car, it would seem insignificant. Getting off at the station, it seemed like the center of the world.

Railyard

We walked back down the tracks to dinner, stuffed ourselves with enchiladas (at La Choza), and walked over to the plaza for dessert (at the Haagen-Dazs place, because everywhere else was closed). Just like in a regular city! (Except for the places being closed.)

On the trip up, we chatted with some great people—a younger guy who managed a band and worked on a Tennessee shortline, along with his friend, who’d never been on a train (like most New Mexicans probably, he asked, “Why does it have to follow a schedule? Why can’t it just go?”).

RailRunner Mountains

There was also a couple who were reading my guidebook!

The landscape of New Mexico is forever changed. Thanks, Rail Runner!

RailRunner at Night

Today’s the last day for a chance to win free copies of my Santa Fe guidebook–enter here.

New Mexico Trip #3: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Texas

I admit, I was instilled with some serious anti-Texan prejudices as a child. The flatlanders came to New Mexico to ski (“If God had meant for Texans to ski,” went one typical grumble, “He would’ve given them their own mountains”). They set up resort enclaves in Ruidoso and Red River, and decorated them with chainsaw-carved bear statues. They came to Santa Fe to swan around saying, “How kaaaay-uuuute!” about everything, and then buying it.

But since I’ve grown up, I’ve met some perfectly excellent Texans, who have much better taste, and realized my attitude was probably not productive. Besides, now New Mexicans have moved on to hating Californians.

So now when I go to southeastern New Mexico, where the state line is just a formality, it’s kind of cool—like two vacations in one.

Rancher Signs

You get your green chile (admittedly, often mixed with cream-of-mushroom soup, which gives me the heebie-jeebies), but you can also get your barbecue. I ate some beautiful brisket in Carlsbad at Danny’s BBQ—the smoke ring was lurid, and the flavor was so good I didn’t even bother with sauce. Here’s my dad’s pork, which came in a portion bigger than his head, and we had to stuff it into sandwiches the next day.

I seem to have lost my photo of that (or perhaps I never took it–the beauty is just seared in my brain), so in lieu of that, here’s the menu board at Pat’s Twin Cronnie in Portales, NM, where fad diets are not catered to:

Menu Board with "carb watchers" section empty

I didn’t realize how deep the Texan strain went until this visit, when I noticed the much-fetishized Blue Bell ice cream in grocery stores in Tularosa and Artesia. I imagine the Dr. Pepper down in those parts is also fresher.

I also saw that this doughnut shop in Hobbs had kolaches on the menu:

Eagle Donuts

Unfortunately, the doughnut shop was closed by the time I rolled up. Actually, maybe for the best—if the paint job outside was any indication, it was the kind of place where I wouldn’t be able to decide what to order.

Another food item I associate with Texas is pecans. But they’ve got pecan trees all around Tularosa (and yummy pistachios!). And just south of Las Cruces is Stahmann Farms, the largest privately owned pecan orchard in the United States. Take that, Texas!

This week, I’m giving away copies of my Santa Fe guidebook–go here to enter!

New Mexico Trip #2: Know Your Meat

Southern New Mexico is a little alien to me because they do weird things with their chile down there, and they engage in businesses that you don’t see that much of up north, such as oil drilling, UFO spotting and cattle ranching. I was driving around Roswell, headquarters of “alien” in southern NM, when I saw the sign: Sale Barn Cafe.

I pulled in, as it’s well known that cafes near livestock auctions are good. Or at least it seems like they should be—even though of course they are not slaughtering the cow right out back, like you imagine.

The parking lot was packed, but it didn’t occur to me there was an auction in session until after I’d wandered through the cafe, cautiously nosed into the main building itself, perused the ads for ranch horses, and then heard the buzz of activity through the swinging doors behind me.

Roswell Cattle AuctionI stepped through and found myself in a short concrete hall leading up to the front, below the rings of seats. I stood there a bit, trying to decide whether I was welcome or not. When it became clear that the place was not going to fall silent, and the entire crowd of cowboy-hatted men was not going to swivel around to stare at me, I sidled in and took a seat, all casual-like. After a while, I took a little sound recording of the auction:

Roswell Cattle Auction

And after a bit more, I started taking some photos. When I eventually moved up in the bleachers for a better vantage point, a handsome younger rancher leaned over and said, “Hey, you’re one of those animal-rights people, aren’t you?” Best pickup line ever.

Roswell Cattle Auctioneer

I said no, I wasn’t, but I was curious about where my meat came from. He went on to explain the whole system—how these cattle weren’t being sold for slaughter, but between ranchers to round out their herds. Ranchers running short of grass were selling extra head to those whose sections were just now getting green. He clued me in to the various codes, signals and marks on the cattle—it felt a lot like learning the basics of a new sport.

Roswell Cattle Auction

He also explained, as a side note, that they used to auction horses for slaughter here, but that got banned—and as a result, now New Mexico is infested with horses that have been set loose because their owners couldn’t afford to keep them and had no other way to get rid of them. I’d always suspected there was another side to the ‘protect the wild horses’ story, but had never heard it.

As I left, I asked the rancher for his name or a card. But he politely declined. He still thought I was one of those animal-rights people after all.

I’m running a contest all this week, for free copies of my Santa Fe guidebook–enter here.

New Mexico Trip #1: Setting the Scene

Fun New Mexico fact: It snows here!

Many people mistakenly think New Mexico is warm like, say, Arizona or Texas. This leads to many panicked purchases of coats and boots upon arrival in Albuquerque. The sun does shine nearly every day, but hell yeah, man–it snows here!

Which was precisely my fear when I first arrived. Snow can fall in huge blizzards anytime up until May, and that can put a serious cramp in my carefully timed research trips. Four years ago around this time, I got caught in a tremendously awful blizzard that shut down all the interstates, and I caught a tremendously awful cold while waiting out the storm at a friend’s house.

So for this trip, I concentrated on southern New Mexico. The Chihuahuan desert spreads over a lot of the southern part of the state, and there are fewer mountains–which still means it can snow, but the risk is a lot less.

For most of the trip, I toodled around the desert lands and the open plains of “west west Texas” (as eastern NM is sometimes known). I also headed west, and popped into Silver City, tucked up in the mountains, just after the snow had melted from the worst storm they’d gotten in like 80 years.

Normally, I think of the flatter parts of southern New Mexico as a little bleak and short on scenery. But in the middle of winter, the relative warmth is welcome, and the scenery was beautiful this time of year. Tiny spots of green were just showing up, and the winter had been so wet that the earth was darker, giving a sharper contrast to all the gold-blond scrubby plains that look so monotonous in summer.

I spent one long day driving from Silver City to Roswell (304 miles, when you take the direct route–which I did not). It was like watching an eight-hour film, with the clouds scudding overhead and the vistas opening up at each mountain pass. Near the end of the day, there was a stubby rainbow, and then the clouds turned bright pink and loomed up on the horizon like the biggest cake in the world. After the sun set, lightning crackled all along the horizon.

I’m running a contest all this week, for free copies of a Santa Fe guidebook–enter here.

Car Insurance in Mexico–My Experience

[NOTE: The insurance details mentioned here apply *only* to people with credit cards issued in the United States, and for bookings made via Hertz’s US website.]

One of the most frequent questions I get from travelers to the Yucatan is “Do I really have to buy all that insurance when I rent a car in Mexico?” In general, base rental rates from international agencies can be cheap–sometimes less than $20 per day–but the full insurance package kicks it up to about $50 per day. And most people’s credit cards ostensibly offer rental car insurance as a perk. But is that adequate?

Here’s my experience, based on more than six years of travel there, and more than a dozen car rentals. All but one trip has been completely incident-free, and on this last trip, in September 2009, I got into a small accident. This was mildly stressful, but it turned out to be a great way to test the system!

Since my first trip in 2003, I have been relying solely on my credit card to provide insurance (initially Visa, but now often American Express–both offer 30 days’ coverage; MasterCard’s 14-day limit is not enough for my trips), as I do when I rent a car in the United States. At first, I was too broke to buy extra insurance, and later, once I knew my way around, I figured it was worth the risk–good roads, reasonable drivers and low crime make the Yucatan a pretty safe place to drive. But I admit, I do breathe a sigh of relief every time I return a car intact.

All but once, I have rented from Hertz, and I have never gotten a heavy upsell on additional insurance. I explain I’m using my credit card’s insurance, and they say no problem. The one time I rented from Budget, I also got no pressure to buy the insurance. Back in 2006 or so, I did compare more rental companies, and I noticed that Hertz was the only international rental company that did not say, when making an online reservation, that additional insurance would be required in Mexico. (I just did a cursory check, and I’m not seeing this anymore, at least with Budget or Avis.)

Then, on this last trip, I finally did get into a small traffic accident, which involved another car. I’m 90 percent certain it was my fault, and I did more damage to the other guy’s car than to mine. No one was hurt. We both pulled over out of the intersection; I called Hertz, and the guy called the police. Hertz said they’d send an insurance adjuster immediately, and a motorcycle cop showed up not long after.

The adjuster took down both cars’ details, took some photos and made both of us drivers sign the forms. I took photos of both cars too, just in case. The cop was very kind to me, and didn’t even write me a ticket–“You should get one, ” he said, “but you’re very sweet.” Politeness (and a lot of hand-wringing and apologizing over and over!) wins the day!

It was incredibly lucky that the accident happened directly in front of the Fiesta Americana hotel in Merida–where there’s a Hertz office! So I just drove my car back across the intersection (very carefully and looking both ways!) and took the insurance adjuster’s form into the Hertz office. They looked over the paperwork, and my contract, and said it was all no problem and that I’d hear how much it would cost in about five days (I had two more weeks of my trip left). I got a new car, and was on my way. The whole process, from crash to new car, took about an hour and a half, and everyone was exceedingly kind and polite.

But enough of the soft info. Here’s the hard data: I called American Express later in the day, to let them know what had happened. Again, no problem–they advised me to fill out an online claim, and they’d sort it all out when I closed the contract on the car. No alarm that I was in Mexico, no worry that I didn’t have more than a doc from the Merida Hertz office (they’d taken the adjuster’s form–though I took a photo for my records) or anything. I was just warned that AmEx would pay only for the damage done to my rental car–the damage I’d done to the other guy’s car was my responsibility.

I was a little worried about this, but I figured in all I’d saved in not paying for insurance over the years, I could definitely pay $500 or so out of pocket, and still come out ahead.

But when I returned the car at the end of my trip, I found out I didn’t need to worry. “Our company’s liability insurance covers the damage to the other guy’s car,” the woman at the desk told me when I checked out. Great!

AmEx had advised me not to let Hertz charge my card for the damage–about $800. But I was unable to convince Hertz of this, so signed off on my rental fee plus the damages. Again following AmEx’s advice, I called up the billing department and asked them to lodge a dispute on $800 of the total Hertz charge–this meant I didn’t have to pay this amount on my next bill.

Then I sat back and waited. I could check the status of my AmEx claim online, and after a few weeks, I saw that Hertz had still not supplied a lot of the documentation. I emailed all the extra photos I’d taken, just in case they were needed, but never even got acknowledgment that they’d been received.

About six weeks later, I received a letter in the mail letting me know the claim had been settled, and the charge had been cleared from my account.

So, the whole process was a breeze, and worked exactly the way it was supposed to. The Hertz woman’s comment about their liability insurance makes me think this may be the difference between Hertz and the other international rental agencies that require extra insurance–perhaps Hertz is the only company that carries its own liability insurance? (I wanted to sit down with a Hertz rep in Cancun and get a straight answer on this, but in the end I wound up with someone else who didn’t speak English well, and I don’t trust my Spanish for these things!)

Another detail, however, before you go running out and not buying insurance in Mexico: No one was hurt in this accident. It is true that in Mexico the police have the right to take you in if it seems you’re at fault (the “guilty until proven innocent” approach). So it is possible that if I had injured the other driver (or perhaps even if there had been a dispute over who was at fault), I would have been taken into police custody and forced to post bail if I wanted out.

At this point, though, I’m not sure whether additional insurance would actually help. Would it pay bail money? I have no idea. Would either the car agency or AmEx provide legal advice in such a situation? I seriously doubt it.

So–I wish I could answer all questions, but at least this provides a little first-hand account of a very satisfactory system (if only health insurance worked so well!). Keep in mind that it may be very specific to Hertz and American Express. If you’re curious about any other details, ask in the comments.

By the way: when you use your credit card’s insurance, the rental agency (Hertz and Budget, in my experience) puts a hold of about $7,000 on your card (that’s for the rinky-dinkiest Dodge Atos). That sounds alarming, but…it’s just a hold, not a real charge. (Though, obviously, you do have to use a card with a decent credit line.) Yes, if the car is totaled, presumably the full $7,000 would get charged to the card. But I assume the procedure would continue as I experienced–you can dispute the charge and wait until the claim is settled.

Also by the way: I do not have car insurance in the United States (because I don’t own a car–not because I’m an outlaw!). Occasionally this is mentioned as another reason to buy additional insurance, but again, I don’t think this has any bearing on the situation in Mexico. (Is it true in the US, though? I have had Enterprise try to upsell me based on that argument.)

[EDIT in 2015: Hertz now posts a notice at its pickup counter in Cancun, warning that if you don’t buy the “supplemental liability insurance,” you may be held in jail after a collision, and may not even be able to get “life-saving medical care.” So that does imply that paying for additional insurance would somehow give you more leverage in case of a really bad accident, unlike the one I was in. Though I’m not sure how that would play out on the ground.

Also, Hertz has given the heavy upsell on insurance to many people I know in recent years. The last time I picked up a car, in December 2014, the only way I could end the conversation was by saying, “But Hertz does have basic liability coverage, yes? I’m fine with that risk.” The question, of course, is how fine you are with that risk.]

Top 10 Food and Travel (mostly) Highlights of 2009

Everyone’s got a top 10 list! So I will too. I don’t know why I don’t do them more often–I certainly love making lists.

Like a lot of people, I’m coming away from this year feeling like it was pretty craptastic. But the nice thing about making a list like this is that you (I) realize there were some really good concrete things that happened, or that I managed to pull off. The crappiness, I think, just comes from feeling overworked and generally unfocused. And, of course, the creeping realization that there will never come a day in my freelance life when I get so fabulous that people are beating down my door offering me work. In fact, I will continue to have to rustle it up myself. Which, you know, is why I’m going on vacation for the next three weeks. (Holy crap! To Asia! Never been to the other side of the world!)

What I’m pretty pleased with, in no particular order:

1. I made croissants! This is fresh in my mind because it happened just a few days ago, only nominally fulfilling my 2009 resolution to work with yeast dough more. I can’t tell you how miraculous it is to make these things. I actually laughed out loud with delight the first time the dough rose. Simple (borderline idiotic) pleasures.

croissants 029

2. I traveled for a month in Mexico and did not get shot, kidnapped, ticketed or asked for a bribe. Actually, this is not such an accomplishment. Contrary to everything you read in the newspaper, Mexico is not a war zone. Allow me to briefly hijack my top-10 list for a mini-lecture: not going to Mexico because of the drug war is like not coming to the US because of the drug war. San Cristobal de las Casas, Merida and Tulum are a world away from Juarez–just like, say, Seattle is a world away from inner-city Baltimore.

3. I hiked for nine days and did not die. Granted, this was about the most candy-ass form of hiking–traipsing merrily from village to village in Andalucia, stopping for many glasses of tinto de verano along the way, carrying nothing but some almonds and a change of clothes (and barely that). But there were real mountains! We were up at 2,000 meters! And we hiked by moonlight once! But the biggest miracle of all is that both Peter and I, dedicated urban travelers, actually had a nice time out in nature, and thought we might do it again. Next up: hiking across an island in Greece.

Sierra Nevadas

4. I jogged. Sure, it was only twice around the track. But, honestly, it’s something I’ve never done in my life. It was right after the Spain hiking trip. Peter and I were jet-lagged and feeling like we needed to capitalize on our newfound fitness. It was satisfying. But then I got horrifically sick for the next week. A friend told me that’s normal when you first start running–all these toxins get pushed out. Sadly, I have not jogged again since.

5. I stayed at a ridiculously nice resort in Mexico, on assignment. I know, this isn’t really much of a personal accomplishment, and I’ve stayed at nice places before. What made this one nice was that it was free of schmoozing (my expenses were paid; I was incognito). And for once in my travel-writing life, I managed to get all the work done that I needed to do beforehand, so I really could just lie on the beach and wave at the waiter for a margarita. The funny thing is that now that I’ve done that, I really have no huge craving to do it again.

ff

6. I wrote a cookbook. Oh, yeah, that. The high point and sense of accomplishment came mostly in the last days of the manuscript-tightening process, at the very beginning of this year, and not actually at the time of publication, in October. This is because, by the time the book came out, there’d been so much wrangling over the layout, and of course, the title, that it was a chore to even think about the book. And in the interim, I’d also written large portions of three other travel guides, which effectively erased Forking Fantastic! from my mind. Can the publishing industry speed up, please, at least just so authors can get more of a thrill out of the process?

7. I became a “guru.” On the basis of the wit and charm and deep, deep knowledge displayed in Forking Fantastic!, Tamara and I were on The Brian Lehrer Show every week this December. It’s kind of hilarious to hear yourself introduced as a “holiday entertaining guru.” And I love Brian Lehrer–hardest-working man (along with his crack producers!) in public radio. We got some excellent calls too. The segment on holiday food traditions made me so proud to live in New York City.

8. I cooked dinner for Jamie Oliver (as shown on TV in 2009). Speaking of being proud to live in New York: Back in late 2008, Tamara and I taped a segment with Jamie Oliver, for his series Jamie’s American Road Trip. Seeing how I’ve loved Jamie Oliver’s cookbooks since early, early days (like, Naked Chef days) and I’m floored by all the cool food advocacy he does in Britain, it was really an honor to meet him. But that was technically the year before.

The real honor came when I finally saw the finished episode, which focused entirely on food in Queens, and especially on immigrant culture. Honestly, I cried the first few times I watched it. The Peruvian ladies with the secret restaurant! Colombian George, who feeds homeless illegal immigrants! The Chinese noodle dude! The ranchero musicians on the subway! It was great TV, and I felt proud to have had a hand in it (I directed them to Ali and the live-poultry place). Unfortunately, it hasn’t been picked up in the US, and likely won’t be, and there are only a few clips online–here’s one (ignore the freakout about the live-poultry place; oy).

podcastlogo

9. I started Cooking in Real Time. If you’re not subscribed to my home-cooking podcast, go ahead and do it now. It’s like that Cookalong with Gordon Ramsay thing, except it’s not a ridiculous variety show, and it actually teaches you something.

What I’m really proud of, though, is that I designed the logo and header, and built the website myself. OK, so the site was mostly template-tweaking, but it was still immensely satisfying to learn how to control all these little elements. It was very nice to have a project that ended with a concrete result (aside from cooking, which is my usual make-stuff-with-my-hands outlet) and that involved both creativity and code-cracking. Unfortunately, just this week, I dropped my voice recorder on the floor and broke it, so now CiRT has to go on hiatus while I’m away in January.

10. I painted the dining room pink and orange, with gold trim. The vision of the Bollywood dining room, finally realized! The real accomplishment here is that I triumphed over decision paralysis, as presented by 8 million paint chips, and finally picked some colors. Plus, I exploited visiting child labor to get the painting done.

Zora O'Neill and Tamara Reynoldsphoto courtesy of Katja Heinemann

Happy new year, everyone! Here’s to an exciting new decade! Health care and croissants for all!

On Travel Writing

Last week, I rolled back into town and right back on the wee rec-room stage at Word to talk about travel writing.

This is basically a big shout-out post. But since there’s so little community among travel writers (we’re always, um, traveling), it’s nice to wallow in it a bit.

Great night! Although I was rather long-winded, as I’d gotten accustomed to entertaining bookstore crowds for 30 minutes, while riffing only off one other person. At Word, we had a panel of me, AnneLise Sorensen (who was my editor at RG for a bit) and Sarah Hull (who I can’t find a link for, but I don’t think is a Hawaiian Tropic swimsuit model on the side–but maybe?).

All moderated by the ever-delightful and sharp-dressed Katy Ball, who gets mad props for steering the discussion off the usual rocks of freebies-or-not, local-or-not and wow-your-job-is-awesome that ring the island of guidebook writing.

Aaand it was all sponsored by Jauntsetter, a website/email newsletter/blog that is so up my alley (I’m a woman; I live in New York; I travel) that I’m embarrassed I didn’t know about it until a couple of months ago, when Katy put this whole thing together. It’s great to see something allegedly for the ladies that is not pink and decorated with silhouettes of handbags and high heels. In fact, it would not horrify a man to read the site either.

In other travel news, I went into the corner 7-11 for the first time ever (WTF–why do we need 7-11 in NYC, the capital of corner bodegas?), just to look at the little Domo coffee cups. I wandered around the place like I was in another country, ogling all the weird food products in there. Did you know they make Sour Gummi Bright Octopuses now? Also, I’ve seen squirt cheese before, but never squirt chili. There were two little paper plates under the pump dispensers to catch the drips. There were many obscene-looking drips.

But the real kicker: cheeseburgers shaped like hot dogs! Sitting there in the little rolling hot-dog grill! I couldn’t actually see any cheese, so I assume it’s in the center and squirts out when you bite in. Shudder.

I was so shocked by it all that I didn’t even buy my Domo coffee.

I Survived Book Tour!

(More pics at Flickr.)

Wine TragedyFirst of all, Skank Ham. Met the auteur in St. Louis last night at our Left Bank Books event. I love the Internet.

As I’ve mentioned in posts about guidebook research trips, it’s easy to get burned out on restaurant food, on hotels (no matter how glam) and on the glamour of air travel. On the flip side, any moment of non-business-travel experience can be mind-blowingly delightful.

For instance, last night in St. Louis, I was just delighted to ride as a passenger in a car driven by people who knew their way around the city and could tell us fascinating facts about it along the way. No offense to Tamara, who was great at the wheel of our rental cars in three cities, but that’s just not the same.

And when we arrived at Third Place Books for our first Seattle gig, we were served our very own food from the cookbook–a home-cooked meal we were totally not expecting. At that point, Tamara had blown her wad early, so to speak, gorging herself on fancy, vegetable-less, high-butter-fat dinners for the first few days of the trip, so she nearly wept with gratitude.

Portland in a NutshellThat’s not to say we didn’t eat some sensational food. At the beginning, it was the Trip of Righted Wrongs. In Portland, I finally got to go to Pok-Pok, after missing it last visit due to its inconveniently being closed the one night we had time. Holy shit, it was delicious. I cannot wait for our January Thailand trip. Ain’t no thing like a fish-sauce-marinated chicken wing.

Also had a fine dinner at Biwa, a Japanese-y joint. Deep-fried kimchi, people. Not so different from deep-fried pickles at your local pub. And a pleasure to dine with the lovely and talented Naomi Pomeroy, who I expect is wiping the floor with her competitor at Iron Chef even as we speak.

But the real bliss of Portland is that you can walk in nearly any old place and get a great meal. The day I arrived, with only a couple of hours before our event at fab Land, I only had time to stagger down to the hotel dining room. Where I ate oysters, deviled eggs three ways and a “salad” that was one big giant roasted bear, some velvety goat cheese and some berries. It was like the whole Pacific Northwest saying, “Look at what WE got!” I found out later that the Heathman Hotel’s restaurant is generally very reputable, so this wasn’t a fluke. But still.

In Seattle, I also righted some wrongs: ate at Salumi twice (to make up for the TWO times it was closed on previous visits), and went to the Rem Koolhaas library, which I’d missed on my last visit. This time, it was unmissable, kitty-corner from my hotel. By sheer coincidence, then had dinner at newly opened Ventana with the same man who’d sold me a $30 finocchiona at Salumi at lunch. I’ve got some crazy flavored salts in my suitcase from Ventana, and a strong memory of oxtail with chard, before the dessert wines blotted everything else out–all thanks to the brilliant social engineering of Seattle Tall Poppy. (Have I mentioned–I love the Internet?)

Maximus All the WayAnd I had a totally blissed out morning sitting at counter and eating Swedish almond-cardamom bread, drinking very milky coffee, reading the paper and listening to Mission of Burma from the doughnut stand next to my perch. It was gray and rainy out and just perfect. The day before, I’d eaten a pork sandwich from Maximus/Minimus, a bus shaped like a pig. I was wandering around hungry, and saw a flood of people walking down the street carrying some mighty fine sandwiches. Such good fortune to find the source of the sammies on the very next corner. And just hilarious that the pig bus sells vegan stuff too. Everything you expect from Seattle, really. (Also, buskers playing Nirvana on accordions.)

After all that, I took a weekend break in Albuquerque, where unfortunately I didn’t get to eat green-chile stew at the Frontier until a few hours before my flight out, but the 48-hour trip was nonetheless worth it. Just to be home and recharge, even if there was also some book signing and a great interview with the hilarious Gwyneth Doland, formerly of the Albuquerque Alibi, and Susan Loubet, the host of the show.

Back in Phoenix, I ate at Schlotzsky’s.

….

OK. I was going to skip on to the next topic, and make it seem like Phoenix was a desolate hole. But actually, I like Schlotzsky’s for some reason, and they aren’t really here in NYC. Am I crazy to think the original-style Schlotzsky’s sandwich is some kind of riff on a muffuletta? As I was walking down the block (after nearly getting run over, because no one walks in Phoenix), I found myself actually craving the boiled black olives and the cheese that weirdly melts into the cellular bread.

For dinner, we once again got to eat our very own food, made by the crazy-enthusiastic chef at Duck & Decanter, a wine bar I wish I had around the corner from me. Tamara’s boss from the IHOP showed up, in his IHOP jacket. Awesome.

And that brings us all back to St. Louis, which I’ve had the pleasure of visiting before, but hot damn, why did no one tell me about the doughnuts?! Also, those oatmeal cookies from Dad’s. Dangalang. All my teeth could fall out and my legs would fall off from diabetes, but I think I could live happily in St. Louis.

And now, just a few hours from now (three, to be exact–just enough time to think I have plenty of time, and then manage to be late), I’m off to Word Brooklyn, basically where it all began at the beginning of the month. Tonight, though, I’m talking about the rigors of writing guidebooks. And I will certainly mention how book tour was a total cakewalk compared with my usual guidebook gig.

And after that, I’ll more closely read a job offer for yet another guidebook gig that I just received yesterday. I think I’ll take it. Am I crazy?

(More pics at Flickr.)