Amsterdam is a unique city to Europe for a variety of reasons. Its reputation for legal drugs and prostitution aside, the city boasts a multi-cultural population and in the first few months of relocating here, I made friends from Spain, Italy, England, and Brazil.

I had a friend in Rotterdam who I’d met during a summer French studies course in Angers, nestled in the Loire Valley, and we remained in contact for many years. But otherwise, I never found many locals interested in being friends. The Dutch, particularly in Amsterdam, treat ex-pats as outsiders and it is a challenge to crack that perception.

Since moving to Amsterdam, North Holland in The Netherlands, I’ve had to adopt a new set of rules for day to day city life. Whereas in New Orleans or the Mississippi Gulf Coast, a friendly ‘good morning’ receives a reciprocal greeting, the people of northern Europe are a bit more guarded and serious. What the Dutch consider being direct and honest comes across as rudeness to this Southern boy.

The city offers some beautiful neighborhoods to discover, particularly the Jordaan area with its storybook canals and gingerbread houses like something out of a children’s book.

I learned early on that most Dutch citizens have never heard of Hans Brinker, which for most Americans is the iconic fairy tale image of the city. The frozen canals and the silver skates with the traditional windmills in the background and locals meandering around eating cheese in wooden shoes. Amsterdam prides itself on these traditions and there are definitely plenty of shops to sample amazing cheese or purchase the ubiquitous clogs.

I had had my exposure to the notorious coffee shops – where you can purchase hashish or marijuana or sample a ‘space cake’ – back in my college years. So, when I decided to actually live in the city that wasn’t top on my list of priorities. Instead, I made an effort to immerse myself in the culture and learn the language and explore. I visited the numerous museums – the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh, Stadelijk, Maritime, the Anne Frank Huis. And in the process I found that what I thought was a sprawling metropolis is actually little more than a big village where you do pass many of the same people each day.

A few things I wasn’t prepared for were the amount of traffic in the city. Amsterdam can be one of the most chaotic destinations in the world – with a mixture of bicycles (probably more bikes on the streets than people) whizzing past on the ‘fiets pad’, the trams speeding back and forth, taxis and pedestrians, you do feel you’re taking your life in your hands on a daily basis. I had a close call with a tram during my first month living here. One early morning trudging for work, I was crossing the street to get to Central Station. Before I’ve had my morning coffee I can be something of a zombie, so I admit I wasn’t my most alert. There was a large wall of construction and scaffolding blocking my view of the tram tracks, which I had to cross to make the other side and I was literally about to put my foot out when someone (I still think it must have been a guardian angel) yelled “HEY!” In a split second it registered and I stopped – just as a tram went speeding past. My heart was suddenly in my throat as I realized how close I came to death, knowing I would have been crushed like a tomato and never known what hit me. Ever since then, I use more caution and look both ways no matter where I am in the city. In addition to the trams, I’ve had more than a few run-ins with angry bicyclists who dart out from around every corner and will mow you down without hesitation.

Another adjustment I had to make was the weather. Much like Seattle, Holland gets an incredible amount of rain and while a sunny day can transform Amsterdam into an almost surreal experience of color and beauty, more often than not, it lies covered in a grey, dreary and depressing cloud cover. The rain can last days at a time, and although this weather doesn’t detract the bicyclists, it does encourage a sort of hibernation during the fall and winter months.

On a perfect spring day in Amsterdam, the colors and sights of the city are glorious and one can venture outside the city to the famous Keukenhof gardens and explore the seemingly endless fields of tulips. The flowers defy description with their brightness and vivid hues. The Dutch love flowers and in the city, a stroll through the Bloemen Markt (Flower Market) offers a memorable and comforting feeling of gezeligheid (‘coziness’).

The winters of Holland are not without their charm as well. The canals do freeze most years, and the locals take to the ice just like in the stories. While the country doesn’t get much snow, there are many cold days and it’s pleasant to wander the streets and duck into a brown café for a bowl of erwtensoep (Dutch pea soup) or boerenkool (a traditional Dutch dish of kale, mashed potatoes and bacon, often served with a meatball and gravy.

Another nice thing about The Netherlands is its proximity to the other countries of Europe. Tucked in the northwest corner of the continent, it really is a stone’s throw to just about every other famous capital you’d ever want to visit. Paris is a three-hour train ride; London a short 45 minute flight; and Spain just over two hours from Schiphol, the national airport of Holland.

My first time to the capital of Scotland, I was a student and knew little about the culture aside from bagpipes, kilts and highland flings. Actually, as an eight-year-old Catholic student, I’d had the embarrassing (mis)fortune to learn Scottish dancing from the nuns of my elementary school for our annual end of the year program. The theme was ‘It’s a Small World’ and our Third Grade class was assigned Scotland. Most young boys will object to wearing a skirt and dancing in front of a gymnasium full of parents and teachers. But we went at it like pros, crepe-paper kilts and all.

On this visit, we were treated to an evening of local cuisine, including haggis (sheep innards), which I quite enjoyed. Our group was on the receiving end of the dancing, which made it much easier to appreciate.

The following morning our student group ventured into the city and a few of us hiked up the hill to the Royal Mile and explored Edinburgh Castle, which offered a stunning view of the city on a lovely June morning. Afterward, we had a picnic in the park below, munching on shortbread and enjoying the peaceful setting of green grass and roses. Heading back to our hotel we passed a small posted banner advertising a local club, The Edinburgh Ballroom. A new band, R.E.M., was playing along with support, Friends of Gavin. R.E.M. had recently broken into the college radio scene in the U.S. but internationally were still rather unknowns. So, that evening I took a friend and we enjoyed a smokey, punk-filled performance by the legendary Athens, Georgia band , promoting their new ‘Fables of the Reconstruction’ LP. It solidified an already great couple of days.

I wasn’t to return to Edinburgh for another 16 years, when I made a day trip from Glasgow on a business trip. It was late-September, and we’d just experienced the tragedy of 9/11. Everyone in my company was a bit shell-shocked and sad, and we needed a getaway. I caught the train into Edinburgh with a colleague and we ended up back in the park, taking in the view and enjoying the early autumn weather. My co-worker wanted to tour the castle, having never been, so I spent the afternoon wandering through the shopping area along Prince Street and sampling some of the traditional Scotch whiskey. It was a bittersweet visit, but added a salve to a painful time and only served to entice me back again some years later.

In 2009, my best friend and travel buddy asked if I’d ever been to Edinburgh as he’d become rather obsessed with visiting. I told him how much I loved the city and said I would look around for offers on flights from Amsterdam. I’d been living in Europe since 1995, so a jaunt to Scotland was a perfect weekend getaway. Easy Jet came to the rescue, offering a 99 Euro round-trip special in late November and I snatched this up. Wanting to treat my friend to the best experience, I went online and Googled hotels with a ‘castle view’. What came back was Castle View Apartments, which turned out to be a major coup. We reserved a few days stay at a private apartment right on the Royal Mile, two-minutes walk up to the castle and across the street from Tolbooth Kirk cathedral.

When we arrived, late on Thanksgiving evening, it was dark and we struggled to sort out our bearings. The taxi dropped us at the Upper Bow, a gorgeous traditional edifice of small cozy apartments with a bright red door. It wasn’t until we were settled inside that we realized our good luck. It was a small one-bedroom with a kitchenette and a broken TV set. But we were literally on the doorstep of Edinburgh Castle and smack-dab in the heart of the Old Town. The next morning we ventured out and were charmed by the shops and cafes around the corner, the friendly locals and the beautiful architecture. We walked up and toured the castle, me for the second time, and then trudged down the Royal Mile to Mary Kings Close (www.realmarykingsclose.com), which was recommended by a friend. This unique experience offered a historic visit to the area formerly a stronghold for plague victims during the height of the illness in the 17^th Century. History edifices, now underground, housed the sick. Sadly, families were separated and those who were terminal often died surrounded by strangers. It was a fascinating visit, but quite sobering and a far cry from the light atmosphere of the souvenir shops outside.

We toured the other shops and churches along the Mile, enjoyed a traditional Scottish breakfast, complete with black pudding, white pudding and haggis. Then we trudged down the hillside to the park and into the shopping areas, where an ice skating rink had been installed ahead of the Christmas holiday. In the evening, we had a magical meal at The Witchery (www.thewitchery.com), an amazing dining experience on the esplanade of the castle, frequented by Hollywood stars like Jack Nicholson and Catherine Zeta Jones and West End notable Andrew Lloyd Webber. We sampled the Beef Wellington in a cozy dining room like something out of a Harry Potter novel and enjoyed a scrumptious red wine (opting for a cheaper vintage than the £1,500 bottle). I quickly added the meal to my top 10 restaurants ever.

Heading back to our apartment, we looked up to find snowflakes coming down fast and hard and by the following morning, the entire city of Edinburgh was blanketed in white. What began as a casual weekend getaway quickly transformed into a once-in-a-lifetime winter adventure. We toured the local cemetery where Greyfriars Bobby, the little terrier of local folklore is buried, and took a ‘haunted’ tour of the city, made the more vivid by its dark history (www.mercattours.com).

Harry Potter was conceived in the famous medieval old town and our tour guide informed us that many of the namesakes were lifted from gravestones in the cemetery. Past the stone wall of the graveyard, a rather Gothic style school building offered the inspiration to J.K. Rowling for the famous ‘Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft’. So much lore of the famous stories has swirled around the town, that some pubs actually publicized their establishments with signs that ‘J.K. Rowling never ate here’.

We ended our visit in a swirling snowstorm, which threatened to strand us. Our visit did in fact get extended due to canceled flights. A couple extra days to enjoy the postcard scenes of Old Scotland was an added bonus, although we were grateful that we could finally depart. Edinburgh made a wonderful impression and elevated the trip to one of my most memorable.

Having grown up in the Southern United States, navigating trains is something I’ve had to learn since moving to Europe. Organizing a full itinerary from Dublin to Ireland’s west coast was somewhat daunting at first. But thanks to the internet and a reliable transportation system, the trip went without a hitch.

My travel buddy and I flew into Dublin and spent the first night touring some favorite haunts, including Gogarty’s in Temple Bar (https://www.gogartys.ie/). This iconic spot is a combination restaurant, pub and music hall which also offers hostel or apartment accommodations. The traditional Irish food is delicious and hearty (we had oysters for a starter and then some amazing ‘coddle’ – sausage and potato stew). We capped off the meal with an evening of local music and a tall Guinness for the full ‘Dublin experience’. There are many cozy bed and breakfasts and traditional hotels scattered across the city including the Jurys Inn Christchurch (https://www.jurysinns.com), the Beresford Hotel (www.beresfordhotelifsc.com/en/), just a few minutes walk from O’Connell Street, and The Charles Stewart Guesthouse (https://www.charlesstewart.ie/), all offering comfortable rooms within a short distance of the major sites. The locals always offer a warm and friendly reception and we enjoyed a pleasant evening before trekking out into the unknown.

Early the next morning, we caught the tram (so easy!) to Heuston Station, and before long were zipping along toward Ennis. past lovely green hills, through scattered rainstorms and rainbows. We stopped off for lunch in Limerick, which I’ve noted as a ‘must come back and stay longer’ destination. Navigating the trains was a snap, and I was pleased to see that with a little research, finding our way was incredibly smooth and simple. Once we arrived in Ennis, a bus took us out to the west coast and the town of Lahinch. This tiny hamlet is a great destination for surfers and golf enthusiasts, and my friend and I enjoyed a warm welcome. Upon our arrival, we took a wrong turn and ended up at the incorrect hotel. In typical Irish fashion, one of the staff not only gave us directions, but offered us a ride to our hotel a short five minute drive away. The Lahinch Coast Hotel (https://www.lahinchcoasthotel.ie/) was ideally located just off the main street and a quick walk to the lovely promenade along the rocky coastline. The rooms were cozy and the restaurant offered a full breakfast. Pro-shops, gift stores, restaurants, pubs, and surf shops dot the streets and we relished every moment in this wonderful find. After a warm meal at The Cornerstone Bar, to stave off the brisk weather, we watched the sun set and incoming tide as the waves crashed against the coastline. It made for a dramatic and memorable experience. A traditional Irish coffee at the hotel bar drew the evening to a relaxing end.

We’d planned to visit the Cliffs of Moher the following morning. Unfortunately, the earliest bus service didn’t leave until close to Noon and we hadn’t booked a tour. Hoping to get an early start, we decided to venture out on foot. This proved to be a bad move, as the distance was much further than we’d been told (apparently the Irish are notorious for unintentional miscalculations of distance), and the September skies began to threaten rain. Just when we were on the point of giving up, a passing truck caught sight of us and offered a ride. I’ve never hitch-hiked in my life, but I decided it was safe enough in the Irish countryside. Our driver was another friendly local who brought us out of his way right to the entrance to the Cliffs and even declined our offer of gas (petrol) money. We thanked him and he went his merry way.

The famous Cliffs of Moher (https://www.cliffsofmoher.ie/) gave us a dramatic adventure, made more so by some almost hurricane-force winds whipping across the bluffs. We ventured from the Visitors’ Centre up the paved walkway out for an amazing view of the coastline. The brutal gusts tore off hats – even ski caps and made the visit more than a little unnerving. But the majesty of the coastal view was awe-inspiring. I was pleased we had a clear view, as some other friends who visited in years past said the heavy fog obscured the vista completely. After braving the frigid elements, we had a hot drink inside one of the cafes and toured the Centre’s exhibits.

A convenient bus trip brought us back to Lahinch for lunch before catching our connection back to Ennis. The village of Ennis is made up of a small city center filled with shops, pubs and churches and we enjoyed a relaxing meal on O’Connell Street in Brogan’s restaurant (https://www.brogansbarennis.com/) which was granted a James Joyce Pub Award. We stayed at The Auburn Lodge, just outside of town (https://www.auburnlodge.com/), which was pleasant and quiet.

An early train brought us safely back to Dublin the next day and we enjoyed a final night in the city before our return to Amsterdam. I was thoroughly emboldened by this road trip and determined to embrace more of the ‘do it yourself’ explorations in the future. With some Irish luck it won’t be long before I’m blessed with a return visit to this charming corner of the world and the pot of gold that awaits the avid travelers.

Late-April in Reykjavik, and the temperature is hovering around four degrees Celsius, with a wind off the Atlantic to freeze the whiskers off a Viking! Just standing by the water, looking out over the wind-whipped crests, conjures up the excitement of what the first explorers coming to Iceland must have experienced in the bitter biting cold.

A perfect day for whale-watching – not! Unfortunately, while Iceland offers a wide variety of outdoor excursions, many are “weather permitting”. So, searching for Moby Dick was out that day. Plan B involved a visit to Laxnes Horse Farm, just a twenty-minute drive outside of the city of Reykjavik, for an afternoon of horseback riding in the countryside. Open since 1968, the farm offers two treks daily, one at 9:30 a.m., and the other at 1:30 p.m., each lasting three hours. The staff even provides pick-up service from the hotel to the property. Custom-made tours can be booked on request.

Being a novice, I had nothing too challenging in mind – a little cantering, trotting, maybe even a gallop along the Icelandic hills. Little did I know what lay in store.

Laxnes sent over the driver right on schedule, and the ride to the farm took little more than the time advertised. Two other tourists, a married couple from Denmark, joined the group, so we were a cozy three. Anticipation of getting back in the saddle after so many years ran high. The only problem was the weather, which became increasingly ominous as our truck entered the hills and the wind began whipping occasional snowflakes over the road. The passing scenery looked softer and more verdant than the majority of the country’s terrain, made up of solidified lava and looking like the dark side of the moon. My day before included a visit to the Blue Lagoon, a natural cloud-blue mineral spring in the middle of nowhere, heated by natural volcanic activity and, because of the sulfuric content, smelling strangely like boiled eggs gone bad. Still, worth an afternoon dip!

But now, traveling along the rugged mountainous surroundings, with evergreens and ever-growing patches of snow, the land seemed more familiar. Yet, a bit more wild.

Arriving at Laxnes Horse Farm, we climbed from the truck and suited up in the changing area. The friendly staff assisted in choosing our riding gear, which included protective blue coveralls. Not exactly fashionable, but the all-weather material felt durable and warm. Gloves and a smart black riding helmet completed the ensemble, and we were ready to commence. Out into the stables, our guide for the afternoon took the group to meet the horses. In actuality my equestrian experiences could be counted on one hand, but I sallied right up like an expert and took the reins of a beautiful rusty-brown gelding. The animal looked little bigger than a Shetland pony — until I climbed on! Up in the saddle, I felt a sudden mix of both familiarity and fear. My sense of balance had been taken away, and owing to the special saddles for the horses, I had nothing to hold onto except the leather reins, made more challenging by the bulky riding gloves. The guide cantered past and our trek began out of the farm and into the icy Iceland hills. Once my horse began to move, my stride returned slightly, although the motion remained unnerving. I steeled my legs to my charge, and held on for dear life!

Clomping down the first incline presented no real challenge and things were going fine, until we had to forge our first stream. The frozen waters made for great scenic impressions, but riding through the currents on horseback made me think twice. The Danish couple had no problems and seemed right at home. So, on we went, the dark rapids splashing and lapping at my gelding’s hooves as he clattered over the rocky ground up the opposite bank. Breathing a sigh of relief, I readjusted my hold on the reins and relaxed a bit.

Up into the snowy hills we went, and the scenery became more and more rugged. Our horses were hard-pressed to mount some of the steeper inclines. We pressed on – up hill and down dale, across the wintry mountains we rode. Coming to a picturesque spot alongside a rushing stream, our guide requested that we stop to give the horses a rest. I finally got up enough courage to ask for some tips on maintaining balance and improve my rusty horsemanship skills. He said it was probably better to start on an Icelandic horse without a lot of knowledge, since horses from Iceland are different from other breeds, and thus ridden differently, responding to altered commands and gestures. For instance, signaling the horse to go faster may be a command to stop for non-Icelandic horse. He related a story of a German tourist who was an expert rider in her own country, but was nearly thrown when trying to translate her experience to the horses from the Laxnes. The anecdote gave me little comfort in my own lack of knowledge, but I remounted determined to master the art. Off again, we took a slightly different route to circle back to the farm. The snow fell harder now, and my face felt like a block of ice, complete with icicles in my beard. The trail, now covered in white, had become slushy and slippery and the riding became cumbersome for the horses. Just a bit further and we’d be back in the safety of the warm farm… My horse began to gallop slightly and I braced myself for a hard ride to the finish. I was keeping up with him, when we began to cross the last bridge of our journey. Suddenly he bolted, knocking me off balance and nearly tossing me from the saddle onto the icy ground! I grabbed hold of the edge of the saddle and struggled to catch myself before I was completely thrown into the rushing river just off the bridge. Thankfully, I managed to readjust my position as we came back to solid ground. The Danish couple, approached me and asked if I was all right, having seen the near tumble I took. Assuring them I was fine, I took a deep breath and wondered if this had been such a good idea. But we were back at the farm now, and I had survived intact – a little sore and maybe a bit humbled out of my cowboy fantasy.

As with the rest of my visit to Iceland, I had to chalk up my riding experience as being unique and educational. But more than a little scary!

I stumbled on Sargans quite by accident, while looking for the best route to Liechtenstein. Having lived in Europe for the past seven years, I was searching the map for a nice summer weekend getaway to someplace I’d never been before. Paris – done it. Spain – nice, but too crowded in August. Liechtenstein….never been there, but heard it’s pretty. It turns out Liechtenstein – often overlooked – is not even a real country, but simply a “duchy” or dukedom with its own government. Perched right between Switzerland and Austria, the locale promised to be a very picturesque place. But how does one get there? Upon phoning the train information, I soon learned that Liechtenstein does not even have its own station. The woman advised that, to visit Liechtenstein, there are bus transfers from either Switzerland or Austria. She mentioned Sargans as the nearest Swiss town on the border – never heard of it before, but Sargans had a hotel, so that settled that!

A few days later, the train to Sargans raced from Amsterdam through Germany and, after a very long day, into Switzerland and the Alps. Once the journey began into the mountains, the scenery became almost surreal. The two hour train trip from Zurich to Sargans will undoubtedly have visitors pressing both nose and camera to the window glass in astonishment that such a beautiful place exists. Small lakeside towns of Wadenswil and Pfaffikan yield to a vision of Alpine majesty. Awesome, snow-capped mountains reach into the sky, skirted by a pristine lake of the deepest blue-green hue imaginable. Each bend of the rails presents an even richer and more lovely vista of this incredible pocket of Europe’s heart.

The trains stop directly in Sargans, which is a tiny place. Its few hotels stand literally a five-minute walk from the station, as does the rest of the village — made up of a few small restaurants, shops, and hotels. The 3-star Post Hotel, includes a full breakfast and the very basic amenities for a weekend stay. The downstairs restaurant offers a nice selection of Continental dishes and wines.

Venturing out for Liechtenstein, it is the easiest journey possible. Just re-pace the five-minute trot back to the train / bus station. Clearly marked buses for Vaduz wait right in front of the station, and the trip takes only about 15 minutes. In that time, most of the dukedom of Liechtenstein is laid out just beyond the bus window. A sovereign state since 1806, the area is home to a mere 33,000 inhabitants. One could probably walk the entire territory in less than a day!

Vaduz is a charming little town, with cafes, shops, and a castle, still inhabited by its duke, overlooking the collection of houses set against a spectacular view of the mountains. Venturing up to the castle is worth the trek through the woods, along the narrow footpaths, just for the scenery. Although the castle grounds are closed to tourists, the surroundings will make visitors feel as if they’ve stepped into “The Sound of Music”.

Vaduz boasts a very impressive modern art museum, which includes some truly avant-garde exhibits. There are also several pleasant restaurants and coffee shops, and stores selling collectibles and art. The dukedom uses Swiss currency, which gives an idea of just how small the territory is.

Hop back on the bus for a visit to another small town in the area – Balzers. This spot on the map does not really even qualify as a town it is so tiny. However, Balzers includes a lovely church and castle of its own, set atop a small mountain with vineyards scattered along the hillside. A truly glowing view of the countryside from one of the scenic spots overlooking the village awaits those who hike up to the top.

Back to Sargans before nightfall, why not treat yourself to a memorable dinner? There are a smattering of restaurants in the town, but by following the small path up to the Schloss Sargans, visitors may be pleasantly surprised to find that, in addition to housing an impressive museum, the castle has its own restaurant. So, spend a romantic evening dining on Cordon Bleu and red wine in the 13^th century castle, and overlooking the Alpine valley as the sun sets over the mountains. Waitresses dressed as country lasses, a group of troubadours playing courtly serenades, and even a gaily-clad court jester, contribute to the atmosphere of the evening. The dinner can be a perfect ending to a storybook weekend.

Sidebar: Getting to Sargans – Easier than you think!

For anyone coming in from overseas, flying directly to Zurich and taking a train is highly recommended. Most major airlines fly into Zurich from overseas and all over Europe.

Longer train rides to Switzerland and Austria from Germany or The Netherlands prove extremely long and often dull. Unless you have a lot of time, it is not worth a full day on the train.

Traveling in August, be advised that this is high travel season in Europe, so book a room ahead of time.

In addition to Sargans, there are many small towns bordering Lake Zurich just outside the city, and all have magnificent views and access to swimming along the banks. If you have the time, it is certainly worth visiting any of these picturesque spots, most offering small hotels near the train stations.

While Sargans and Liechtenstein are both very small territories, their web-sites are extremely helpful in planning a trip, as are the tourism boards for Switzerland and Liechtenstein. Try any of the following:

www.MySwitzerland.com

www.sargans.ch (in German only)

http:// llvweb.Liechtenstein.li

Most of the hotels listed are small and affordable, and can be booked directly online.

While Sargans is not a metropolitan center, the restaurants serve some delicious fare, and the service at the hotels is more than adequate. The biggest complaint to this traveler was that, in August, while the temperature was mild, the mosquitoes were horrendous. Keep this in mind also if you plan to visit in the summer, and bring along some repellant!

Also, it’s a wise idea to purchase a language guide if you are not fluent in German. Because of its location, the area does not have many English speakers, so communication can be a problem. All menus are in the local language, so it’s good to know a few words in order to get by.

The restaurant at the Schloss Sargans is small and intimate, so tables fill up quickly. Reservations are recommended to assure your spot! Take the time to visit the Sarganserland Museum in the castle as well – in 1987, it was voted one of the 37 museums most worth visiting in Switzerland.

I first traveled to Cardiff in late April, which is an ideal season to see the first blossoms on the flowering trees. The coast does get a fair bit of wind at that time of year, but ample sunshine as well. Arriving in the city of Cardiff, one finds immediate warmth from the Welsh people. During the short trip from the airport into town, the taxi driver from the airport related some interesting history about the capital city of Cardiff, which was founded on the wealth of coal mining. Tours are available outside the city to a working coal mine, where visitors dress in hardhats and collier uniforms for the duration of the tour.

Cardiff is a mix of the old and new, the latter exemplified by the Millenium Stadium, a modern football arena built in 1999, and already a major landmark. While dominated by a distinctive flavor of medieval history, the city maintains the modern ambience of a bustling world-class city.

I stayed at the 2-star Ibis hotel, which offers the very basic comforts, ideally located walking distance to the main shopping street, and all the main attractions. However, there are a number of quaint hotels and bed and breakfasts to stay at in Cardiff for various prices, including the 4-star Copthorne Hotel (£83), the Thistle (also 4-stars; from £45), or the Jurys Hotel (£35 and £70).

Those visiting Cardiff for the first time may wish to take advantage of the double-decker bus tours, which pick up in front of the castle. A great way to see the sites, and get your bearings; the bus provides drop-offs anywhere throughout the tour, or just stay put, and you’ll be right back downtown when the tour finishes. Our tour guide was a quite interesting, colorful character who add a lot of background and interesting anecdotes about the city with a touch of humor.

Cardiff Castle sits in the very heart of the downtown district and is surrounded by a low wall, adorned with sculpted animal figures of squirrels, bears, lions and wolves. Adjacent to the castle, Sophia Gardens provide a relaxing and lush accompaniment to the castle’s imposing structure. A must-see attraction, the castle was originally built as a fort by the Romans in the first century A.D. However, the structure has been renovated and added to over the years, passing through various generations of owners, including a long line of British Lords and Marques. The clock tower, built in the 1800s, has a distinctively modern structure and colorful artwork. The interior of the living quarters — which were restored by, among others, collier heir, Lord Bute and architect, William Burges – are sure to impress. The gentleman’s smoking room, the bed chamber, and the great hall, are all so intricately designed that one could spend hours following the stories mapped out by the detailed carvings and flamboyant paintings on the walls, ceilings, and corner nooks. In the smoking room, each of the four corners represents one of the four seasons with brightly painted carvings fitting in to the overall theme. Since women were not encouraged to enter, the artists carved a gargoyle over the main door to the room to keep them at bay. Colorful fairy-tale illustrations cover the walls of the children’s nursery, including the most popular painting of the “Invisible Prince.”

Outside the main halls, the view from the 11^th century castle “keep” is worth the trek up the stairs, although it can prove a bit treacherous and steep.

Other impressive collections of artistic note can be found at the National Museum and Gallery of Wales, which houses a fine collection of impressionist paintings and historical findings unique to the country.

After a tour of the city, several nice friendly pubs invite passersby to have a pint of beer or enjoy a plate of steak and kidney pie. The service in all those I visited was fine, although there is a specific procedure to follow in being seated and served. Choose a table, get the number, place the order at the main counter, then go to a separate end of the bar to request beverages. Once you master this, it’s nice to relax and take in the atmosphere.

Shopping in Cardiff offers a pleasant and very different diversion. Numerous stores sell plush, t-shirts, and other souvenirs with a red dragon, the symbol of the city, emblazoned across the front. Most of the tourist shops also hawk medieval and Celtic charms and jewelry. Typical to Wales, the wooden “love spoons”, date back to the days of yore. The giving of “love spoons” is an old tradition in Wales, and the symbols carved into the handle signify different wishes – love, friendship, good luck in marriage, etc.

Venturing outside of Cardiff, visitors should definitely take time to visit the Museum of Welsh Life in the village of Saint Fagans. An open-air museum, opened in 1948, the 100-acre property chronicles life through the ages of Wales. Everything from a small druid village with huts and wood-burning fire, to a 16^th century manor house with sprawling grounds spotted with sculptures, beds of flowers and a babbling brook. Small cottages dot the grounds –one for the blacksmith, another for the baker, the sheep-shearer, and the fisherman — all preserved in a lush, verdant stretch of land. A quaint shoppe sells tea and cakes, and a general store offers gifts and locally made Welsh goods, including Mead wine. Geese waddle around the property, and there are horse-drawn carriage rides available, very popular with children. St. Fagans is easily accessible; approximately 15-minutes by bus from Cardiff’s main station.

A weekend in Cardiff captures a taste of its charm, but there is much more to see in the outlaying areas of Wales as well – all offering a wealth of history, beauty, and excitement.

My mother and grandparents lived in New Orleans for years until they picked up and moved to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, a short 76 miles (an hour and a half drive) east. Growing up, my family and I always considered the city a second home, attending Mardi Gras and the famous Jazz and Heritage Festival over the years. I even graduated college from Loyola University along the beautiful St. Charles Avenue (no relation). There are some wonderful and characteristic neighborhoods, including the stretch of Magazine Street, lined with some of the best eateries in the city and some truly unique shops.

City Park and the Museum are definitely worth a visit. The shady picnic grounds and the charm of Storybook Land still make me nostalgic for my childhood and visiting with my parents. Parkway Bakery & Tavern has been serving up some delicious po-boys since 1911, in a relaxed and pleasant terrace, rife with a lot of old time memorabilia from Pontchartrain Beach amusement park, Mardi Gras and the Jazz and Heritage Festivals (https://parkwaypoorboys.com). Another great uptown eatery is Frankie and Johnny’s (http://frankieandjohnnys.net/, a friendly, laid-back neighborhood restaurant with great food and a lot of character.

The best time of year to visit is spring – March and April – before the heat and humidity of summertime really kick in. The early autumn – September and October – is also lovely. And while the winter months can be a bit gray and depressing the holiday period in the city, including Christmas in the Oaks, is certainly worth a visit.

One of my favorite drives outside the city is Highway 90, which connects the city to the Gulf Coast via winding, picturesque roads through unique fishing camps – with names like ‘Kissin’ and Fishin’, ‘Anything Goes’ and other creative monikers – boat shops, swamp tours and small establishments selling fresh seafood and bait. Too many visitors use the I-10 interstate and miss out on this marvelous aspect of the local culture. But if time allows, the journey is worth the detour.

Helsinki, Finland gives visitors a glimpse of a slightly different twist to the Nordic culture. Unlike its neighbors Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, Finland derives much of its influence from Russia, which lies just 683 miles (1100 kilometers) to the east.

The Russian touch can be seen as soon as you step off the boat and look up the hill to the striking brownish-red Cathedral of the Assumption overlooking the harbor. In winter, the climb up the staircase can be a bit treacherous with the ice and snow, but the view inside is worth the risk. Beautiful ornate gold decorates the alter, and the church provides a cozy respite from the cold outside.

Down to the Market Square area, there is a scattering of shops selling candies and teas native to Russia. But probably Finland’s best tribute to its eastern neighbor is the selection of authentic restaurants, which offer some of the best Russian cuisine in Europe.

Alexander Nevski’s Russian restaurant on Market Square was a personal favorite for years whenever I had a business trip to Helsinki. Sadly, the establishment is long gone, but it still ranks among the best meals I’ve ever tasted. Named for the 13^th Century general and Prince of Kiev, the restaurant’s interior included green-wood paneling, pink velvet drapes, and delicate candlelight. The restaurant overflowed with old-world ambiance and the elegant surroundings transport visitors into a quiet St. Petersberg manor. And the food? Let’s just say it transported – period. With specialties such as reindeer medallions, borscht, and caviar blintzes, it is no wonder the restaurant was considered one of the hallmarks of Finland’s dining establishments. Personally, not a fan of beets, the main ingredient in Borscht, I decided to give the soup a try anyway, and it quickly became a favorite. Rich with beef stock and a dollop of sour cream, the blood red soup whetted the appetite for the entrée. Nevski specialized in seasonal game, and in winter reindeer was a popular choice. The succulent medallions melt in the mouth and the flavor is best enjoyed with a hearty red wine. The restaurant had an extensive wine list, which added a satisfying (but pricey) warmth against the cold outside. Desserts at Nevski were not to be missed. On my last visit, I sampled a beautiful presentation of cheese mousse with red currants resting on a delicate wafer of gingerbread crust. Light, and heavenly delicious. I feel the loss of Nevski every time I return to Helsinki, but I have been able to find some worthy alternatives. A recent meal at Troikka brought back all the feeling of old-world Russia and scrumptious fare in a cozy atmosphere (https://troikka.fi/). Other popular choices include Saslik (https://www.ravintolasaslik.fi), and BLINIt (https://www.blinit.fi/en/).

While I’ve only visited this unique city in mid-winter – which adds to its other-worldly feel – the warmer months offer never ending days and midnight sun. The beautiful forests and lakes of the Finnish landscape provide a memorable visit no matter the time of year.

I don’t speak a word of Czech, for starters. I’m fluent in English, and can get by in Spanish and French. After 20 years in The Netherlands, I can even converse in Dutch when the locals speak langzaam. But Czech? Nope. Not even sure where I’d begin. So, on my first visit to the city of Prague, I was a bit concerned on how to get around. Maps and metro lines were incomprehensible. I needn’t have worried though. The good news for visitors to this amazing city is that it didn’t matter if I could read or speak the language. Somehow, in spite of needing to maneuver the airport bus to the metro station and then figure out which station to get off at in the center of Prague, I managed without a hitch.

And once I arrived in the center, I was home free. Prague is a delight for the Western tourist looking for a truly unique experience, because it is extremely tourist friendly. I found my hotel online by sheer luck. The Hotel Rott (https://www.hotelrott.cz/en/) offered reasonable rates ($100 per night), and upon arrival, my friend and I discovered the location was around the corner from the main city square. The management put us on the top floor with a skylight, giving an amazing view of the city. From the front step, we were next door to the Hard Rock Cafe and walking distance to every major attraction.

Prague is a lovely city, seemingly frozen in time with its cobblestone streets and a charming fairy-tale ambiance that should appeal to everyone. The people are friendly and the service in shops and restaurants is efficient. Local cuisine is quite delicious, though can be a bit heavy (dumplings). There are a number of excellent restaurants I would recommend. Now that I’ve returned to the city on numerous occasions, I’d say my favorite is Kampa Park (http://kampapark.com/en/), which lies right on the river Vltava, with a lovely view of the Charles Bridge. Czech red wine is superb and I regret not loading up on it during my last visit.

Another very good meal can be found at the 3 Storks Hotel (https://www.hotelthreestorks.cz/), just over the bridge. We found this quite by accident during a rain storm. The local specialty of rabbi was excellent, as was the salmon with accompanying wines to die for.

Shopping in the city includes crystal stores selling delicate vases and paperweights in unique colors and forms (https://www.prague-stay.com/lifestyle/category/12-shopping-in-prague/74-glass-and-crystal-czech-glass-in-prague). Marionette shops line the quaint old town and provide an old world feel. The dolls come in a wide variety and are intricately designed, hand-crafted works of art. Most of the shops will also ship to international destinations. A few notable shops include: Czech Marionnetes (https://www.marionettes.cz/), Marionnettes (http://www.buymarionettes.com/), and Rici Marionnettes (https://www.marionettes-rici.com/en/.

Other sites to visit include the Prague castle and cathedral (https://www.hrad.cz/), Letná park with its Petrin Lookout Tower (http://www.muzeumprahy.cz/198-petrinska-rozhledna/) – inspired by the Eiffel Tower, offering a spectacular aerial perspective of the city – the famous astronomical clock (https://www.prague.eu/cs/objekt/mista/188/staromestska-radnice-s-orlojem) and it’s tower which offers a dizzying view of the square, and the Jewish quarter and cemetery (https://www.jewishmuseum.cz/en/info/visit/). The city is ideal for a weekend visit or a longer stay to explore all it has to offer.

My first visit to the centuries-old fortified abbey of Mont Saint-Michel was in 1986 as a student attending a summer college French-language course in Angers, in the Loire Valley. I was impressed, but since I’d never really heard of the famous monument before, I can’t say I properly appreciated it. The main memory I have was the freezing cold rain and wind along the Normandy coast, even though our visit took place in June.

In April of 2019, I had the opportunity to return to the commune over Holy Week and experience a truly unique night sleeping on the island. This was quite by chance, as I booked a hotel I thought would be on the mainland with a view of Mont-Saint-Michel, but a few weeks before the trip realized my friend and I were actually going to be spending the night there. Even more exciting was that we would be there for Good Friday coinciding with a full ‘super moon’.

Getting to MSM is very easy from the city of Rennes, capital of Brittany and a pleasant destination on its own. The city boasts 2,000 years of history, with lovely preserved architecture and some superb crêperies and restaurants, including Le Galopin (https://www.legalopin.fr). The sidewalk cafe brasserie offers delicious options such as oysters and fresh grilled steaks and seafood, with mouth-watering local wines.

From the Rennes bus station, a short, hour-long bus trip brought us to the main Mont-Saint-Michel visitors center, where buses bring you to the actual monument. We decided to make the trip on foot from the parking lot, which was something of a trek. However, the growing excitement as we neared the island and saw the majestic structure looming ever closer was an unforgettable feeling.

During the day, MSM was packed with tourists, making it a bit unpleasant navigating the narrow medieval streets. But as the day wore on, the crowds dwindled and we were soon left with just a handful of other visitors, with the run of the mountain. We stayed at a pleasant inn, Le Mouton Blanc (https://lemontsaintmichel.info), right along the Grand Rue. The room was tiny, but cozy. And the hotel served a pleasant meal in the main auberge with traditional fare.

We watched a stunning sunset as the tide began to come in and isolate the mountain from the mainland. Mont-Saint-Michel was actually not initially an island, but due to years of erosion, developed into what exists today. And contrary to my previous knowledge, the water only cuts the road off from shore for a period of 30 minutes to an hour, depending on the tides. Once the sun went down, we were able to walk outside of the fortified gates and enjoy the evening views of the mountain illuminated against the night sky.

Most impressive during our visit was the pink ‘super moon’ which graced the skies that Good Friday evening and made a memorable visit even more unforgettable. Standing before the Mont’s abbey, far from land with a clear view of the cloudless sky surpassed any expectations I’d had. We enjoyed a cocktail at the piano bar of the Hotel Le Mere Poulard with the breeze from the water blowing through the open windows.

The next morning, we watched the sun rise over the coastline and had some freshly baked croissants and cafe au lait before visiting the l’Abbaye – another advantage of being hotel guests was arriving before all the crowds. The cavernous halls and hallowed grounds of the ancient church and monastery felt quite haunting, but in a good way. And the lovely vistas from the top of the mountain made for a breath-taking visit.

From Mont-Saint-Michel, we took the Flixbus (www.flixbus.com) to Saint Malo, along the Brittany coast with its fortified city and charming meandering streets along the coast. As with MSM, the beach is wide and inviting during the day, but in the evening the crashing surf makes for a dramatic transformation of the coastline. There are lovely shops, churches and restaurants in the city, and an antique carousel just outside the battlements. We dined in L’Absinthe (https://restaurant-absinthe.fr/en/) the first night and had Easter brunch at Le Table d’Henri, (now La Corniche: https://www.lacorniche-saintmalo.fr), serving wonderful fresh seafood, wines and a strawberry soup for dessert, with a bright, open dining room and pretty view of the beach.

The train station offered a convenient connection from Saint Malo back to Rennes, and from there a short plane trip to Amsterdam. The airport was quite tiny though and most destinations did require a layover at Paris Charles de Gualle. For a weekend getaway, the trip provided a fresh and awe-inspiring appreciation of an often-overlooked corner of France.