Owyhee 5-0

Doesn't everyone want to spend a birthday in Owyhee? In case you question my spelling, note that Owyhee is an older English spelling of Hawaii. It was used in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, when groups including native Hawaiians explored the Pacific Northwest.

But no, I didn't spend my birthday in our 50th state. Rather, I spent it in our
43rd. So why am I rambling on about Hawaii? Because I stayed at the Owyhee Plaza Hotel in Boise, Idaho. Said hostelry is named after the Owyhee River, discovered by those wandering Hawaiians.

There was no luau in Boise, nor did I get lei'ed there. But let me tell you, little spuds, while the Owyhee Plaza is no place to shake one's hips about, Boise isn't such a bad little place to birthday. Allow me to yammer on a bit about the Idaho state capital.

What does Boise have that other places don't? For starters, one can bask in Basque culture. Aside from hosting the only Basque museum in the United States, there's quite a sampling of food from Euskara (the region of the Pyrenees which the Basques call home). I dined on paella at the Gernika Basque Pub & Brewery and was as happy as a clam (albeit not the particular clam embedded in the rice dish).

Boise and its surroundings also provide adventure travel opportunities for weenies such as myself. Anyone can easily bike the Boise River Greenbelt, a 25-mile swath of flat pathway. The Greenbelt connects many popular sites, including the M.K. Nature Center, Zoo Boise, and 12 city parks. Soft adventurers can also play Lawrence or Laura of Arabia at Bruneau Dunes State Park, the home of the tallest sand mountain in the United States. For those who prefer aqueous adventures, whitewater rafting, waterskiing, and fly fishing options are nearby.

Speaking of fishing, my understanding is that it is now legal to fish from the back of a giraffe or a camel (just in case you had the hankering). At one time, it was illegal to cast a reel from an animal's back in Idaho. However, despite urban legend, it appears the bicameral state legislature has shelved the law. If you know otherwise, please comment.

But I digress. The Saturday Farmers Market downtown offers visitors a typical slice of Boise life. While the crowd is pretty white, at least the victuals are colorful and diverse. There are opportunities to nibble on locally-made/grown goodies ranging from mulberries to potato chips (naturally).

Speaking of spuds, I would be remiss if I didn't include a hash of potato trivia in this post (despite the state's recent efforts to downplay the exalted tuber). Yes, the potato is Idaho's state vegetable. The was first planted there in 1837. Idaho is responsible for one-third of the country's potato crop. Finally, according to a researcher in Ireland, potatoes are a powerful aphrodisiac. While I can't confirm the science, do note that the Irish know their potatoes and they are known for their large families. Just sayin'.

Time After Time

Apologies, dear readers, for being out of touch. But between television appearances in New York City, an article for The Washington Post, a project for National Geographic (sorry, name-dropping is a DC institution), and trying to avoid exhaustion while playing tennis in the 95 degree heat, my attention has been elsewhere.

However, I have come across some engaging facts that I would like to share with you. Some of you may know that Indiana is split (not evenly) East/West between the Eastern and Central Time Zones. But do you know the only state that is split between times zones on a North/South basis? As you ponder, I have my eye on you, you little spud. Any IDeas? It's Idaho! The southern part of the state is on Mountain Time, while the northern part of the state is on Pacific Time. The dividing line is marked by the Time Zone Bridge in Riggins.

Speaking of time zone trivia, let me share a few other tidbits I learned in Googling the topic. I knew that Hawaii and Arizona do not observe Daylight Savings Time. But the Navajo Nation, located geographically within Arizona's borders, does give the sun its due in the summertime. U.S. territories including Puerto Rico, Guam, American Samoa, and the U.S. Virgin Islands stay on standard time all year long. But with those island climates, who needs summer time?

Internationally, Argentina decided to skip DST last summer (October, 2009-March, 2010) in order to save energy. China, in a normal world, would span at least five time zones. But after the Communist Party took over the country in 1949, it reverted to one common time zone (UTC +8), helping the trains run on time (oops, that was Mussolini) and leaving the poor farmers in Xinjiang and Qinghai provinces in the dark most of the morning. The PRC doesn't not observe DST. Only three countries on the continent of Africa (Egypt, Morocco and Namibia) follow Daylight Savings Time.

I don't know how Vanilla Ice, Ice Baby feels about Daylight Savings Time, but Iceland and Antarctica are officially frozen on standard time all year long (although some bases and stations on the tundra stay consistent with their home territories). If you are hanging out at the South Pole though, you can walk through 24 standard time zones in a matter of seconds.

Volcanoes and Oil Spills and Boycotts, Oh My

Apologies for the extended absence from posting, especially in light of all the news stories wreaking havoc on the travel industry. Take the volcano and the euro and the oil spill....please.
Add in nasty political machinations in Thailand and Arizona, and the hot mess that is Greece, and it might all seem to add up to a big "Don't Go."

But it doesn't. Travelers will go. And as many economies will suffer from the bad news, some will benefit. To wit, that blasted Icelandic volcano is proving a godsend to, well, Iceland. Southern European countries well out of the way of its emanations may end up winning over visitors who might otherwise have headed to Ireland, Germany or other northern'ish countries in the eurozone. Speaking of which, the shrinking euro means bargains for Americans who do venture forth to the 16 nations contained within that economic union. So, despite the volcano, there might be some hope for the Continent this summer after all.

While we are across the pond, we must not neglect the tragedy that is Greece. With the Grecian economy in ruins, the tourism industry there is in a hellish situation. Tourism is the major source of foreign exchange for Greece, but visitors are cancelling right and left. However, between the declining euro and the slashing of bed prices in the cradle of democracy, Greece is offering some Olympian deals this summer for bargain bottom feeders.

Meanwhile, back in the US of A, politics and BP are muddying the waters for several state tourism industries. While Arizona is not exactly a hot spot for summer tourism due to the fact that it is, well, a hot spot, the developing boycott will have both short and long-term repercussions. Tourism is one of the state's top industries, as visitor spending accounts for $18.5 billion in income and hundreds of thousands of jobs. But as tourists trade planned visits to the Grand Canyon for visits to grand national parks in California or Utah, and as meeting planners cancel conventions slated for the Grand Canyon State in 2010 and beyond, an already fragile Arizona economy may soon be heading over the borderline. Meanwhile, cities with convention facilities of a similar size are hoping that Arizona's cancelled meetings business may migrate to them.

As for the tourism industries along the Gulf shores of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida, fear is spreading through the air as the oil slick proliferates. After all, who wants to visit white sand beaches covered in gunk? The Gulf states are already complaining that East Coast communities are trying to take advantage of the disaster by poaching the sea and sand trade. But the fact is, due to the possibility that a loop current could carry the oil around the tip of Florida to the Atlantic coast, even those places south of the Mid-Atlantic are not out of the danger zone. Then what's the situation? Jersey Shore, anyone?

Finally, Thailand. What a mess. You might think that, since the action is centered in Bangkok, other parts of the country might still be okay for tourism. But the problem is, the country's main international airport is in Bangkok, and said airport has already been under siege this year. For those planning a visit to Southeast Asia this summer, Vietnam, ironically, might be a much more peaceful bet.

A Bee Story/A Sting Operation/To Bee or Not to Bee

Have you heard the buzz about the Marriott Magnificent Mile in Chicago? Well, honey, let me tell you all about it.

You see, recently, Myk Banas, who acts as the hotel’s executive chef and director of food and beverage operations (he’s a busy bee) was pondering ways of expanding his property’s F & B philosophy. Said philosophy is to make food from scratch whenever possible.

His brain swarming with ideas, he decided he needed a little fresh air (or thus the story goes, as warped though my mind). So, he wandered up to the roof of The Richard J. Daley Center (the skyscraper with the abstruse Picasso sculpture in front of it). For reasons unbeknownst to him, the roof was filled with bees and their cribs. Suddenly, his mind was pollinated with the nectar of a new idea. “What if,” he thought (and again, I take the liberty of creative license in paraphrasing his thoughts--sorry, Myk), “I bought some bees and put them to work making honey? Wouldn‘t that be a sweet idea?”

Banas searched far and wide for the licenses that would allow him to place a bunch of bees on his hotel’s roof. Interestingly, however, there was no red tape to be found. So, Banas found an abbondanza of Italian five-striped honeybees and moved them to his rooftop in 2009.

These Italian stallions worked hard, producing more than 200 pounds of the golden stuff last year. (In this city of big shoulders and big unions, I wonder if these industrious worker bees have labor representation). After a winter in hibernation, Banas expects even more honey for his money in 2010. That money--a $2500 total investment in Italian bees, hives, honey extracting equipment and protective bee suits (made by Armani?).

So, you may wonder, what does the hotel do with a tenth of a ton of honey? Banas brews Rooftop Honey Wheat Beer, he bakes up honey-kissed pastries, and he sticks his honey on the breakfast buffet.

For now, dear reader, I won't drone on further, as I simply can no longer wax poetic on this subject. For more on this story, check out my article in the May issue of Hotel F & B (http://www.hotelfandb.com/).

Can It to Save the Planet

Sorry for my extended absence from posting. For the past month, I've been appearing on television stations around the country spreading the gospel of recycling aluminum cans for charity. Check out my most recent appearance: www.khou.com/great-day/gdh_042210_seg1-91823604.html

No, I'm not the bleached blonde near the beginning of the clip; you have to fast forward about six minutes in to see me. BTW, speaking of hair, my tresses were styled by a former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. I think he did a great job. "He?" query my observant readers. Yes, friends. Said stylist was among the last class of male DCCs, circa 1968.

Flying Standby: An Easter Miracle

Imagine this scenario. It’s Easter Sunday. Planes are packed. You are holding a one-stop ticket involving a skinny jeans connection and an arrival at an airport nearly 60 minutes from your house. Your total door-to-door travel time will be six hours, if you make that connection.

When you get to the departure airport, you notice there is a non-stop flight to your home city leaving a few minutes before the first leg of your one-stop. Not only that, but it arrives at an airport just 20 minutes from home. Total travel time would be two hours and 15 minutes. A thought germinates. What a delight it would be to hop on that earlier flight. You start envisioning the possibilities and ask the desk agent for advice. She sprinkles on your Easter parade by telling you the non-stop is oversold. Nevertheless, she advises you to check at the non-stop gate which, coincidentally and conveniently, is adjacent to the one-stop gate.

Now, let me transition to the first person. For some reason, even though the news is downbeat, I roll through security and skip down the lengthy corridor to Gate A8 like an Easter Bunny who has OD'ed on caffeine. I bound up to A8 and dangle the carrot to the gate agent (let‘s call him Elijah). With a lighthearted lilt and a hint of a wink, I say, “I am hoping you can help me fulfill a fantasy.” I have his attention. I then proceed to egg Elijah on with the details of my desire--the even trade of the one-stop ticket to Nowheresville (Washington Dulles) for the non-stop to Mecca (Washington Reagan). Elijah seem to cotton to the idea and suggests that, although the flight is more than full, I return to the desk a few minutes before departure time.

In that interim, a second gate agent at A8 starts asking for volunteers to give up seats on the oversold flight to DCA. Then my original flight, leaving out of A10, begins to board. Imminently, I will have to make a choice: Give up my slim hope at A8 or risk losing my confirmed seat at A10. At the 11th hour, Elijah has a pow wow with the A8 ticket-taker. The request for volunteers is rescinded, as seven seats have magically resurrected. Six of those seats are taken by people who are ticketed for the non-stop, but without seat assignments. I, apparently, am the only other potential passenger who has burrowed my way into the proceedings. Elijah instructs all ticketed passengers to board and find any available seat. Any standby list seems to be passed over. I then catch Elijah's eye. He catches mine. His look says, “Come hither” and hither I come. It was like the Red Sea parting as I bunny-hop unimpeded down the jetway into a comfortable aisle seat near the front of the plane. No fuss, no muss, not a peep about money changing hands. The latter is amazing, considering that A) the non-stop flight was undoubtedly more expensive than the one-stop and B) airlines typically charge for any change of itinerary.

While I would like to attribute this success to my mad skills as a professional traveler, it might have been an Easter miracle. On the other hand, this wasn't the first time I've talked my way onto an oversold flight. So, maybe the moral of the story is that the idea of appearing at the airport with a friendly attitude, a humorous line, and overdone make-up (both walk-ons occurred after television appearances) isn't so hare-brained after all. So consider this strategy lent to you. It may be your ticket to pulling a rabbit out of a skycap.

Laura on TV

Here's my most recent television appearance. Learn all about finding travel deals for spring and summer. For more specific details, scroll down to the next blog post.