by David McGuffin | Aug 5, 2008 | Culture & Customs, Experiencing Europe
Here’s the scoop on ICE in Europe. Simply put, “There is no scoop!” Until recently, Europeans would look at you as being “mad” if you’d asked for ice with your drink. It’s not common, it’s not the custom and it’s only for outsiders. In the early years of traveling in Europe, a request for ice would simply get a quizzical look from the waiter. That’s provided you got the word “ice” translated into the local language. Then in later years, the request would get the response “Finished” from the waiter. That meant he understood your request, but would not honor it. Or more to the point, there just was no ice in the kitchen dedicated to putting into your drink. As one snooty Parisian waiter said, “There is ice for keeping fresh fish cold, would you like some of that in your drink?” But in recent years, a request for ice will get you ice… but only one or two cubes filling the bottom of your glass. The best you can hope for is that the little cubes will lower the drink’s temperature at least a few degrees before melting away into oblivion.
We North Americans are spoiled with ice-cold drinks. Think about it, we go to McDonald’s, order a large Diet Coke and get a cup full of ice with a little bit of cola. No wonder they make a killer profit! Ice costs practically nothing to produce. Ninety percent of the world’s population make do without ice everyday and don’t even know what they are missing. So it’s no wonder when my tour groups arrive in Europe, they are appalled when there is no ice for their colas, frappuccinos and water! Ice is only “expected” and taken for granted in North America.
Ok, I know it is possible to travel to Europe, be pampered, waited on hand-and-foot and get all the comforts of home. Doing so puts you in a bubble, a shelter for most of your tour, letting you out only a few hours a day to see the tourist sights, and then bringing you back into the safety and comfort of the bubble until the next tourist sight pops up on the itinerary. That’s all well and good and I am the first to say I love to be pampered. But this is not my “Exploring Europe” travel style. When in Europe, I love to try to fit in. I don’t mind bumbling the language while trying to speak it. I try to look at fashion and sort of fit in. I try to order the local food, drink the local drink and do it without ice if necessary. In short I try to become a temporary citizen of the community where I am staying, and on my tours I try to pass this philosophy onto those traveling with me.
So I say, “Why bother, why make a scene?” Instead, “Why not adapt to their way of life?” You know “When in Rome, do as the Romans.” There are two types of people who tour Europe: those who go with an open mind and “experience” Europe by adapting, and then there are those who try to impose their customs and expectations on those with whom they are visiting. It’s simple… do without ice and get on with experiencing Europe!
-David
Read the next article in this series: “Water and Gas”
**You can add your two-cents by clicking on the {comments} link at the bottom of this entry.**
by David McGuffin | Aug 1, 2008 | Experiencing Europe
European customs, eating and drinking habits, and the general way of life differs greatly from those we have in North America. Diving into “their” way of life is challenging, yet essential to having a true and authentic travel experience. My travel philosophy has always involved “fitting in” and becoming temporary “locals” at our tour destinations. On my tours, that’s what we try to do… fit in and join the fun. Sometimes this means doing without ice in your cola and liking it, or maybe it means paying for your dinner bill with cash instead of a credit card. For me, it’s all part of the experience of becoming a temporary local by learning the culture, customs, habits, and EXPERIENCING EUROPE! In this series, I hope to address some of these cultural differences and suggest how to deal with them and enjoy the experience.
My first post in this series is titled “ICE? Usually None but if you ask it’s One” and will appear on August 4, 2008.
by David McGuffin | Jun 18, 2008 | Destinations, Experiencing Europe
Recently I’ve been writing about my travel experiences in Venice and the “slow life” of staying on the Lido. I’ve got another experience to share that only happens when all the right elements fall into place. Somehow I’ve got a knack to stumbling into these situations. For me it takes going out on a limb and getting out of my “comfort zone,” but when it happens, it is magical.I made it to the island of Burano by about 4:30 p.m.
This island is the way out toward the place where the Venice lagoon empties into the Adriatic Sea. Burano is a fishing village and is most famous for finely handmade lace. At first glance it seemed the island survives only on tourism, but as I was about to find out, there is a lot more culture here than meets the eye. From the boat dock I walked up the “main drag” and found my tour group right where I expected them…at the first bar in sight. Now don’t misunderstand me here, hanging out at a bar is not a bad thing, so I decided to join them for a few minutes. By 5:00 the whole area was shutting down. The bar was handing out tabs which is highly unusual for Italy. I asked our waiter, “what was up?” and he said most tourist take the 5:20 boat back to Venice and there is no tourist business to speak of after that time. The restaurants in the area only serve lunch and are closed for dinner.
My group decided to return to Piazza San Marco for some shopping and more of Venice. I decided to hang around a while longer and checkout this village. So off I went in the direction away from the boat dock. Soon I discovered an amazing array of freshly painted buildings sporting every imaginable color of a rainbow. Red, blue, orange, yellow, and green seemed to be the dominate hues. The place was charming. Had I not known better you could have been in and Irish fishing village, not one on the Venice Lagoon. Strolling here I discovered I was actually in a residential area. Lining both sides of the sidewalk (there are no cars are on the island) were open doors covered only by a thin sheet of cloth flapping in the breeze and surrounded by pots of flowers in full bloom. This lent even more color to the already beautiful scenery. Kids were out playing, riding tricycles and bikes, and just generally being kids. Soon I came to the end of the island where it dropped off into the lagoon. In the distance I could see the harbor entrance defined by jetties jutting out into the Adriatic.Turning around I walked in another direction and after a few minutes found myself in the town square. Now this was what I was looking for! It was about 6:30 and the square was alive with action. Lining both sides of the “street” were every type of shop imaginable, each with its own awning sporting its name and purpose. Every shop was filled with people looking, shopping, and making purchases. These were the local folks, they lived on the island, and each one knew the other. It was my kind of town! I sat down at a café so I could get a good view of the action, ordered a drink, and took it all in.
After a few minutes four men sat down at the table next to men ordered a drink. The waitress was a happy woman, dressed in black, with deeply dyed red hair. After getting the guys their Apelrol’s she appeared with an accordion and gave it to one of the gentlemen. Within seconds he had it cranked up and was pumping out a tune. The other fellows joined in belting out song in rich baritone voices. It did not take long for them to gather a crowd and soon other men from the community took a seat and joined in. By this time I knew I had happen upon something special for me, but not at all unusual for Burano.
I couldn’t help it so on the next song I joined in. Now I’m not too shabby of a singer and I think the guys at the next table picked up on that. They needed a tenor and evidently I was doing a pretty good job. It was fairly easy for me to hear and belt out the harmony. I found that by watching the “leaders” mouth I could even get all the vowels correctly. I just got lucky with the consonants. All songs have a form and once you know where the verses and choruses fit it is easy to follow along.
After five or six songs one of the guys ran across the street, took a jar of retrieved a jar of anchovies offered by the shop tender and return to the table. By this time I had been invited to join the “choir” at their table and we all feasted on anchovies, bread, and vino! Yummmmmy! After licking the oil off his fingers the accordion player started up again and more men sat down and joined in . It seemed this was a normal thing, these guys passing away the late afternoon in song! By now it was getting to be 7:30 or so and I began to see the men watch their watches. I don’t speak Italian very well, and certainly do not understand the Venetian dialect, but I did pick up that their wives were expecting most of them home for dinner soon and they had better wrap it up. I think we had gone through three of four liters of vino and I did not know how they were going to go home and pretend they had not “stopped off for a cocktail” after leaving the office! HA! But no, I was made to understand that was not the way it was. Waiting for them was at least a one hour dinner with more vino and a relaxing evening at home.
At precisely 8:00 the waitress arrive and pried the accordion out of Eugenio’s hand and took it to a back room of the café. Everybody got up, said their “ciao’s” and were on their way home. You can’t manufacture this type of an experience. You’ll only run across it by getting off the beaten path, out of your comfort zone, and stick with the locals. You’ll get lucky about 10% of the time!
Ciao,
David
by David McGuffin | May 13, 2008 | Destinations, Essential Travel Resources, Experiencing Europe
An IBIS Hotel
Avignon, France
I’ve marketed my Exploring Europe tours with the slogan “Thrifty and Tasteful Travel” for sometime. But just last night it came to me what I really mean by it. Tonight I am Avignon, a wonderful city with lots of history, culture, and style. The only problem is that all the tour groups that go through southern France stop here, add their euros to the economy, and then move on to somewhere else. I stopped by today to see if I could test my “Thrifty and Tasteful” concept.
Last night, in the remote village of Bonnieux, I was having a glass of wine at the bar down the street from my hotel. As I was writing my “Blog” and updating my journal the “Thrifty and Tasteful” concept materialized before me. So here it is….
In Bonnieux I spent 50 euro on a rather spartan, yet clean, room with a shower, sink, toilet, bed, and great view. There were better rooms in the village and even at the hotel, but I was alone and trying to impress no one. I figured the money saved on the room could be better spent on dinner. I was out 50 euro for my room and now I went in search of a place for dinner. I always checkout practically every place in town before deciding where to eat, and it was no different in Bonnieux. Bonnieux did present a special problem in that the town was small and built on a mountain, so anywhere I wanted to walk was either uphill or downhill. It never amazes me that where I want to go is always uphill!
After scouting the town, dodging the thunderstorm (complete with pea-sized pellets of hail) I ended up right back at my hotel’s restaurant. The owner, Pierre, had welcomed me to France (in English) when I checked in and now I asked him to tell me about dinner. Pierre took me into the dining room and showed me the “panoranique” view, described the menu choice in English, and even showed me the kitchen! Well I was hooked and made a reservation for 8:00. (BTW, I make it a habit not to tell the hotel and restaurant owners who I am or what I do until after the service, and only then if I want to return).
So for dinner I spent 36 euro on a four course meal that was simply amazing. The waitress suggested a bottle of local “Cote du Luberon” red wine which I took her up on. I had Foie Gras with fresh grilled bread, salad, and confiture of prunes for the starter (if you don’t like duck’s liver you should try it at one of my recommended places in France). I picked a regional speciality for the main course consisting of baby lamb shank roasted in its own fat and seasoned with juice, rosemary sprigs, and thyme. The meat fell off the bone and the rosemary was presented in a way that I could cut off fresh sprigs and add to each bite to enhance the flavor to my liking. By now I was completely satisfied and pleasantly full, but the goat’s cheese plate came and I had to have some of it. The cheese was produced in Buoux, a village about ten miles away. There was desert, but I’d had enough and skipped it. The waitress said she’d add the check to my hotel bill and I could settle up in the morning.
Ahh…talk about “Tasteful Travels” I found it in Bonnieux. So I guess I’ve discovered that I’m willing to stay in a two star hotel and dine like a king as opposed to staying in a four star hotel and trying to skimp on the food. If I had all the money in the world it would be different, but it seems just right for my “Thrifty and Tasteful Tour” philosophy.
Meanwhile tonight I’m staying in a two star IBIS hotel. These hotels are all over France and it’s kind of nice to “come home” to the same room no matter what city you’re in. But I did not succeed in finding an excellent and affordable place to eat, but that’s a story for another night.
Bonne nuit,
-David
by David McGuffin | Mar 16, 2005 | Culture & Customs, Experiencing Europe
by Susan McInarnay
I was fortunate enough to visit Ireland in 2003 and absolutely fell in love with the country. I returned to the US and told one of my best friends, Karen Kelly, that I was going back one day and she was, going with me. I had no idea at the time that the opportunity would arise so soon. I knew that Karen would love Ireland as much as I did. I feel so truly blessed that I was able to enjoy this trip with her as well as be a chaperone to such a great group of students. I felt so proud to see them march and perform in the two St. Patrick’s Day Parades. What a chance of a lifetime for them and for me… to be in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. It is the land of my heritage the land of my roots…to be there on my birthday was an added treat too. None of this would have been possible without David McGuffin. I hope that he knows and understands just how much I appreciate and cherish all of the many opportunities he has given me to travel and see the world. It is impossible not to have a good time when you travel with David. As I told David in a card as we returned to the US .. “may the sun shine brightly on your back… until we go again” and we will! God has richly blessed me with this trip and the friendships that I share with both David and Karen. I am truly thankful!
by David McGuffin | Jun 24, 2002 | David's Journal, Destinations, Experiencing Europe
Last summer, I had the opportunity to travel alone in Europe for about two weeks. Traveling alone has many advantages: I was able to make all the decisions, my decisions only affected me, I had no schedule or agenda, I was free to roam wherever I wanted to in all of Western Europe. The drawback is that I had no one I knew, with which to share my travel experiences. I made the most of my time while driving in Europe and was able to cover a lot more ground than had I been with a group. I hope you enjoy this tale.
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My first thought was, “This is odd.”
Normally I would not have thought much of it, but I was in Tuscany, the land of olive oil and vino! I was traveling the back roads from Rome to Assisi on a Sunday morning and was determined to keep off the autostrada! My macchina (car) and I were one as we zipped through towns, hills, and valleys. I had rented a Renault in Paris three weeks ago, so we were pretty well acquainted.
The morning was turning into afternoon as I zipped through a small village, I noticed the local church was letting out, and the town center was filling with people rushing home to Sunday dinner. Throughout the morning, I had passed through many of these look-a-like towns which seemed to pop up every 20 kilometers or so.
The hills of Tuscany are deceiving. From a distance they appear to be rolling gently. Wide valleys are filled with alternating fields of amber grain and rich green pastures. The vineyards take over as the valley blends into the hillside. A little higher on the hills the vineyards are replaced with the silvery patina of the olive trees.
Throughout Tuscany, this pattern is repeated time and time again, arranged according to which crop will grow best at an elevation. Once you climb a hill and venture beyond the soil which will produce a crop, the hillside begins to fill with an assortment of weeds, bushes, and conifers. From a distance this adds a rich green cap to the hilltops. In the valleys the farms are each accompanied by a villa. Each villa is guarded by dual rows of very tall cedar trees leading up the driveway. The villas are constructed of golden sandstone with rich red terra cotta tile roofs, which complements the color palette of the landscape.
Just up the hill from the village, I came upon two girls standing in the shade of a tree. Their rich coffee-colored skin stood out beautifully against the brightly colored (and tightly fitting) clothing they were wearing. What were these women, so obviously out of place, doing here in the middle of nowhere?
I put it out of my mind as I continued on my journey through the hills. The next village came into view, situated far below in the valley. In a matter of minutes I was in the village center, passing the local church and heading out of town. Then, it happened again!
There standing in the shade of an old cedar, puffing patiently on a cigarette, was another one of these finely-dressed, dark-skinned women. Now this really began to catch my attention! What was going on here?
I found out about five kilometers up ahead when I encountered a whole slew of these women up and down the road as I approached the next village. These women were HOOKERS! They had migrated from Northern Africa to Tuscany where, for a fee, they will provide “entertainment” for the men-folk, presumably while the rest of the family goes to Mass or takes a Sunday afternoon siesta!
I know what you’re thinking…so I’d better get out of this while I can. Later in the day, while visiting a bar I bought a bottle of wine and shared it with a local gentleman. As he and I solved the problems of “politics and religion” he confirmed my suspicions. He said, “There are many young men, known as momma’s boys, that sneak off on a Sunday afternoon to visit the ladies on the outskirts of town.” Everyone knows it, and it is expected of the young and virile Italian boys. There is no problem!
Of course that’s a man’s viewpoint! However, it just goes to show that getting off-the-beaten-path can open your eyes to a lot more of local life than what is expected.
Travel is more than seeing the sights. Get out and explore!
Here’s the scoop on ICE in Europe. Simply put, “There is no scoop!” Until recently, Europeans would look at you as being “mad” if you’d asked for ice with your drink. It’s not common, it’s not the custom and it’s only for outsiders. In the early years of traveling in Europe, a request for ice would simply get a quizzical look from the waiter. That’s provided you got the word “ice” translated into the local language. Then in later years, the request would get the response “Finished” from the waiter. That meant he understood your request, but would not honor it. Or more to the point, there just was no ice in the kitchen dedicated to putting into your drink. As one snooty Parisian waiter said, “There is ice for keeping fresh fish cold, would you like some of that in your drink?” But in recent years, a request for ice will get you ice… but only one or two cubes filling the bottom of your glass. The best you can hope for is that the little cubes will lower the drink’s temperature at least a few degrees before melting away into oblivion.
