Voracious in Vienna

Okay, so maybe this is five months overdue. But I swear I've been productive. I've hit up Mexico, Ireland (twice!) and….New Jersey (trust me, a journey all its own). But the creative juices are flowing once again, my friends and I am back. Oh yes, I am back…

…most recently from Vienna, Austria, a city that can be summed up with classic, imperial and elegant. I was in town for a short three days attending the first Austria Destination Summit, a trade show for travel agents looking to learn more about the destination. I could bore you with tales from the private Vienna Philharmonic rehearsal, or the nighttime tour of Shoenbrunn Palace (which ended with a lavish banquet overlooking the city)…but I think I'd rather tantalize you with tales from the table.
 

Night one: Champagne and hors d'oeuvres in Vienna's iconic Ferris Wheel (the oldest in the world). The Viennese absolutely love their smoked salmon, cheese or ham on bread. And as basic as it sounds, it does the trick. Creamy, salty smoked salmon with a dollop of creme fraiche on a soft slice of baguette. Sold. Then it was wienerschnitzel (lightly breaded and fried fillet of veal) with a squeeze of lemon and a side of scalloped potatoes, with a never-ending glass of crisp, white wine at Wagon 31, the restaurant adjacent to the Ferris Wheel. Did you know Vienna has a booming wine industry? Me neither…but I was not disappointed.

Dessert was loosely translated on our menus as a chocolate-filled dumpling with strawberry sauce. I'm not a girl with a sweet tooth, but man that sounded like a drug that I had to get my hands on. Diabetics: Avert your eyes. Picture a fluffy white cake ball filled with oozing, molten chocolate, crusted in shredded coconut and topped with gooey strawberry sauce.

Night two: A private dinner in the wine cellar of Klosterneuburg Monastery, a Roman Catholic monastery just outside of Vienna on the Danube river. The working monastery is home to not only a cellar chock full of delicious Viennese wine, but it is home to the largest cask of wine in the world (56,000 liters!). Hey, heaven. The monastery capitalizes on this by offering guests the opportunity to literally slide down the barrel. Needless to say, I could not resist after I had sampled a few glasses of the onsite libation.

Night three: A feast for the senses and a true taste of Vienna. Our hosts rented out Cafe Gloriette, part of Schoenbrunn Palace, the summer residence for the Habsburg family. It was built in 1775 as a 'temple of glory' for Empress Maria Theresia. In 1780 it was transformed into a breakfast room for the Emperor Franz Josef I. Today it is an elegant restaurant boasting breathtaking views over Vienna. Arriving at night was an experience all its own as the building was set aglow with dramatic lighting. We entered to a quartet playing delicate Mozart (which later erupted into some sort of hypnotic blend of house beats with electric Mozart - odd, but it grew on me. Or maybe that was the wine). In any event I tucked into a Viennese staple: beef broth with soft dumplings, similar to matzoh balls. Following this we were served flaky cod and saddle of veal, all culminating with my favorite: oh yes, those chocolate-filled dumplings. What a gloriously calorie-filled bookend to an already overindulgent trip.

Despite my waistline's better judgment, Vienna has not seen the last of me.

Classy Business Aboard Lufthansa

I am afraid to fly. There, I said it. Good thing I picked a profession that would keep me constantly on the ground. Whoops. If you are an aerophob like myself, allow me to let you in on a little secret. Two words: Business Class.

I arrived in Dusseldorf, Germany for this long-awaited press trip last Thursday, July 22, and, man, after a seven-hour flight in Lufthansa’s business class, I could see anyone becoming an airplane junky. Even me.

After two glasses of Coppola Shiraz and a plate of charcuterie in the Business Class Lounge at Newark Liberty International Airport, the knots in my stomach seemed to loosen just a smidge. A seamless boarding followed by a very chilled glass of bubbly was enough to almost bring a smile to my panic-stricken face.  Even as we sat on the runway for an hour and a half due to air traffic (oh the joys of flying, right?) the flight attendants were sure to come by with cold glasses of sparkling water and orange juice.

Now for the kicker. As the dinner hour rolled around someone came by and asked if she may set my table. She was kind enough not to laugh at my perplexed look and instead proceeded to place a white linen tablecloth over my tray table. As for menu options I opted for the Tanqueray cured salmon served with orange, pumpernickel and mustard-dill dressing to start. For a main course I tucked into some of the most tender beef short ribs I’ve had in a while. Seriously, this is airplane food? Flight attendants rolled beverage carts by what seemed like every few minutes to top off my glass of red wine.

Feeling sleepy from a full belly (and maybe from that Tylenol PM I popped) I was delighted to find that my chair reclined to an almost 180-degree angle. Pillows propped up just right and TV tilted so that glare would be minimal, I hunkered down to watch “Date Night,” – that Steve Carell and Tina Fey movie with a star-studded cast (think Mark Wahlberg, James Franco, Ray Liotta, Mila Kunis...). Turns out I probably didn’t need to take that Tylenol PM – that movie was a snore all on its own. Note: There are dozens of movie and television options to choose from. I also watched an episode of Entourage and 30 Rock - to which I owe my sanity after suffering through Date Night.

When I awoke breakfast had long been over but I found a nice to-go bag by my seat with a sandwich, yogurt and some fresh fruit. Well rested, satiated and safe I was ready to take on Dusseldorf. Aerophobia cured…or at least until I’m back flying coach.

Dorf-Bound

Any aspiring travel writer dreams of that first press trip. Bali, Argentina, Australia, perhaps. But I, always the pessimist, assumed that my first official press trip would be to the brilliantly lit conference centers of Philadelphia, or to the gorgeous coast of Queens, New York. Well, my friends, I'm on the eve of this very first press trip and I'm off to Dusseldorf....Germany, and I could not be more excited.

Don't ask me what's in Dusseldorf. I have no idea, but I suppose that is half the fun. Right now I'm more focused on the VIP service at the airport, or the business class flight on Lufthansa, or the five-star luxury hotel in prime downtown Dusseldorf (whatever that means). I hope you will join me on this little adventure over the next few days, but for now I am officially Dorf-bound.

Just to make this post the slightest bit educational, here are five fun facts on Dusseldorf:

1. Dusseldorf is home to the largest festival on the Rhine river, attracting over 4.5 million visitors each July. (And yes, yours truly will be attending. Can you say Oktober in July? Apparently the festival is a giant beer fest on the Rhine. I'm already hooked.)

2. Dusseldorf has the largest Japanese community in Germany. (Beer AND sushi?? This place is sounding more and more like my happy place.)

3. The local beer is called Altbier, which translates to "old style beer."

4. The traditional Dusseldorf meal is Rheinischer Sauerbraten, a roast beef marinated in vinegar and spices. (Mmm? Yeah, I'll give it a shot. When in Dusseldorf...)

5. The city's most popular band is called Kraftwerk, known for avant-garde electronic music. (I threw this one in because to be honest, nothing else looked really that interesting.)

Undoing the Overplayed Honeymoon

What's the first thing that pops into your head when you hear 'honeymoon?' I would make a hefty wager without hesitation that more often than not your image is something incredibly cliche.

Let me guess. A coconut beverage on a beach in Aruba, right? Or perhaps a nap in a hammock under the shade of a palm tree...on a beach in Aruba. Maybe a scandalous encounter in a hot tub....that overlooks a beach in Aruba. Are you getting my point? For as long as there have been honeymoons, newlyweds, still drunk off one another to the point where every little burp is still adorable, have flocked to places like the Caribbean or Hawaii to bask in the sun and deluded fantasies about how their lives meant nothing until they used each other's toothbrushes.

Well, my friends, times they are a-changing. Honeymooners are saying 'been there, done that' to overused destinations as their expectations rise. Virtuoso, a luxury travel network in the U.S., recently unveiled the 30 Top Honeymoons, which were chosen by the industry's top honeymoon specialist. So what destinations featured prominently? Vietnam and Cambodia.

...what? The countries previously torn apart by genocide, war, Agent Orange and the Khmer Rouge? Sounds like a gorgeous brochure. This is like saying 40 years from now, "Hey baby I can't decide where we should go for our honeymoon. I mean, Kabul definitely has the nightlife, but Mogadishu has the beaches." But hey, anything is possible. Clearly. Now the region is home to UNESCO World Heritage sites, beaches, five-star accommodation...everything you could want from a honeymoon but in a fresh and exotic location.

If you are one of those who have just had a ring slapped on your finger and are considering a honeymoon destination, consider a new nine-night escape that includes stays at The Nam Hai in Hoi An, Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi and Siem Reap's Hotel de la Paix, for $8,096 per couple. For more information visit http://offers.virtuoso.com/350065/honeymoons_nam.html.

The Other Side of Memphis

Roaming Memphis in the bright of day is sobering. At least, that's how we felt on Monday as we readied to head back to New York. Our last stop on our list was the National Civil Rights Museum, and I don't think there could have been a more appropriate way to spend our last few hours.

In the blur of Blues, ribs and beer it is almost easy to forget that Memphis was the city in which Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed on April 4, 1968. He was killed on the balcony of The Lorraine Motel, which has been turned into the museum. It is eye-opening and, in my opinion, a must for anyone.

Before you enter the exhibit you watch a screening of the Oscar-nominated 'The Witness,' narrated by Rev. Billy Kyles, who was with Dr. King the night he died. If at the end you aren't holding back tears then you missed the whole point of the film.

Wind your way through the history of American civil rights. What makes this exhibit that much more meaningful is that it is located in the South. I don't think it would have hit me as hard were it located in New York.

The museum takes you up to room #306, Dr. King's room. Here you can look out a glass window onto the balcony where he was murdered. There really aren't any words to capture this experience - at least none that wouldn't sound forced and corny. Just go for yourself. Adult admission is $13 and I would carve out three hours to do it properly. You do not want to rush.

We meandered down to Beale Street and although a good handful of people roamed in and out of the blues clubs and restaurants, it looked more like a ghost town compared to the past two nights. We even made an attempt to get back to Ground Zero to find out the name of Johnny's band (I feel stupid that I can't remember), but seeing it empty and silent was eerie and another reminder that the journey really was over.

I'll be raving about this trip for a very long time. I cannot wait to get back and I will recommend Memphis to anyone.

We Went to Graceland, Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee

The whole drive here whenever we mentioned we were going to Memphis we got one of two responses: skeptical looks (which, after last night's insanity we are still confused about) and "You into Elvis, or something?"

Ok...yes, we went to Graceland. I know I like to pride myself on not being a tourist but, come on. I think if an entire Paul Simon album bears its name it really is worth a visit. And also...it's Elvis.

I'll admit I didn't know much about the King or his palace before my visit, but I was told by my friend Becca (an avid Graceland visitor) to opt for the Platinum Tour Tickets, which cost $34 and include an audio-guided tour of the Mansion; access to his airplanes; access to the Automobile Museum; his Hollywood Exhibit; a pop culture exhibit; access to a wardrobe exhibit; and a self-guided tour of the '68 Special exhibit.

Elvis bought Graceland in 1957 for around 100 grand. He was 22. I'm 22 and I think I'm making it through the rest of this weekend on $61. It's good to be the King.

"There's a pretty little thing waiting for the King...down in the Jungle Room." - 'Walking in Memphis' by Marc Cohen.

The tour of the mansion takes you through the lower floors. The upstairs, Elvis' private quarters, remain off limits out of respect. You get to see the living room, dining room, kitchen, basement and of course, the Jungle Room. Holy 1970s decor. Shag carpet on the ceiling? What were people thinking? The tour also includes the grounds of Graceland, including displays on his movie career and his many, many awards.

Getting there: If you don't have a car there is a free shuttle service that leaves from the Memphis Rock'n'Soul Museum every hour on the half hour. I'd carve out a good three hours to do Graceland right.

Not into Elvis? There is still plenty to do. We also checked out the Beltz Museum of Asian and Judaic Art and tomorrow we plan on hitting the Civil Rights Museum. Memphis is also a prime location for people watching. Grab a stool at one of the many bars with front windows and watch the local color pass by. Check out the giant decked out carriages that leave from The Peabody Hotel. While you're there, see the March of the Ducks, which happens at 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. Get there an hour early to get a good seat. It's a little kitschy but the ducks are so damn cute.

Walking (the Line) in Memphis

Smoky barbecue goodness wafting out of a small alley off Union Ave. between Second and Third streets can only mean one thing. It's time for a Rendezvous, arguably the most famous (and best) barbecue joint in Memphis. Our night started with a full order of pork ribs, cole slaw, chicken nachos and Heinekens and it only got better from there. By the way, the wait at Rendezvous is very, very long. We waited about an hour, but it was very much worth it.

Feeling sleepy from full bellies we were about to call it a night. Yes, we were sleepy and were considering passing out in our very comfortable beds at The Westin Memphis Beale Street. (Guests should ask for Joan, the concierge, who is a fountain of Memphis knowledge.) But first we wanted to see what all the fuss was on Beale Street. Oh my. The cop-guarded street is closed to cars and revelers are stopped on their way in for a quick ID check. That's right. We got carded to walk on a street. Why? No open container laws on Beale Street. I knew we were in for an adventure.

We donned the Beale Street badge - a giant cup of Bud Lite (there are beer carts all along the street and most giant beers cost $5). From there we walked up the block as the soulful sound of Blues poured out from every venue. If you're thinking Beale Street is just for tourists, think again. Packed with locals. And everyone wants to hear who is performing. To play on Beale Street is really to have made it.

We were lured to a small stage in a small pavilion. After watching the guitarists and sax player jam for a while one of the two guitarists motioned to me...to come up on stage. Now, I am not into being in front of people, but I thought 'what the hell' and headed up the steps. The guitarist handed me his instrument and I held it flat out in front me as he proceeded to pick and play it while it was in my hands. Probably one of the coolest things I have ever seen. Saskia and I waited around after the show to say hello to him. Turns out his name is Johnny Holiday (not his real name, but I promised I would keep his real identity a secret). Why Holiday? "Because I'm always on vacation," he told us. He is the unofficial mayor of Beale Street. Everywhere we went with him folks were calling out 'Hey Johnny! How you doing?' We felt like Memphis royalty to be in his company.

Slipping past cover charges (I was introduced as his wife) we made our way into Ground Zero, a club on Beale Street owned by Morgan Freeman. This was to be our hangout for most of the night, as Johnny was to play there at midnight. A voluptuous woman belted out the Blues on stage as we knocked back beer after beer (and maybe a shot or two of Jim Beam, after Saskia opted for that over tequila).

As the night got fuzzier and we all got friendlier it was revealed that Johnny actually held a role in the 2005 movie, Walk the Line. He plays Carl Perkins, if anyone is interested.

The night ended in haze of dancing, singing and some killer solos by Johnny. Memphis, you may have climbed your way into my Top 5 Places in the U.S.



Check out the videos of Johnny at Ground Zero