Bahama Mama

If you can't guess from the title, the above photo, or my last post (read here), I was on a cruise in the Bahamas this past weekend. I really like cruising, maybe it's the 70 year old in me. Or perhaps just the Floridian. Either way, I had a ton-o-fun. Cory and I were joining four Florida friends for the weekend and good times were had by all.

We boarded on Friday and Cory and I checked out our room (after downing a frozen rum drink first, of course). It was a cozy fit, but clean and comfortable. Cory's only experience cruising has been on Celebrity and they're known for larger cabins, so he was a bit surprised by the smaller cabins of Royal Caribbean. Still, everything fit and we had all the space we really needed.

On Saturday we hung around the pool for a while before disembarking for Nassau. With no real plans, we ended up pulled by throngs of people and music to Senor Frogs. Things got silly there.




Cory and our friend Dan decided it would be a good idea to jump over the bar's railing and into the water below. I think it was the buckets of beer.


The rest of us left the bar and walked to the Hilton next door, where we found the boys swimming to shore on the hotel's beach. It was a nice spot, so we all stayed and swam for a while.



Back on the boat, there was plenty of eating and drinking, followed by more eating and drinking. I didn't get any photos, but we did return to the cabin that evening to find this flying ninja monkey hanging from the ceiling:

The next day was private island day, and we boarded a very slow moving ferry to get to Coco Cay. We spent a few hours on the beach, me reading in a chair, Wittney and Dan playing in a volleyball tournament, and Cory almost drowning trying to swim out to a barge in the middle of the ocean. Usual beach stuff. We still have no idea how Cory scraped his head during his swim.



When we got back on the boat we went up to the boat's 360 degree bar, called the Viking Lounge, to watch the sunset. It was a bit cloudy so it wasn't the most magnificent view, but we did have some fun drinks. Though, I must say my dirty martini was a lot more masculine than Cory's mudslide or Phil's strawberry daiquiri.



We got our last photo during dinner. After that, there was a lot more toasting of drinks and a lot less taking of photos. We did spend some hours in the casino, even though I kept insisting Cory stop playing. He ended up doing pretty well at roulette, but we won't tell him I said that.

All in all, it was a fun cruise, though I'm not sure Royal Caribbean is my favorite cruiseline. But for a quick Memorial Day trip, the spring break-like vibe was just what we were looking for. How about you all, what sort of cruise style do you prefer?

Bon Voyage

I'm really excited about my weekend travel plans. Tomorrow Cory and I embark on a Bahamian cruise, and I've been looking forward to it for a while. As some of you may know, the past few months have been consumed with back and forth travel between DC and NY (which I'll be blogging about soon). We literally haven't taken a moment to breathe since March. It's been like working a seven-day-a-week job, and we're both really excited for the break. Plus, it's the first time in a while that we're not traveling for a wedding or similar event (which we're obviously happy to do, it's just nice to switch it up).

We're going with four others, so we'll be a nice-sized group of six. We'll be flying to Orlando then sailing on Royal Caribbean's Monarch of the Seas, for a three-night cruise stopping in Nassau and Coco Cay. Coco Cay is the cruiseline's private island and Nassau is the capital city of the Bahamas. Growing up in South Florida, I'm no stranger to cruises, and so I've been to Nassau a number of times. As such, I'm looking forward to just lying on the beach, not feeling the need to explore the island further. For anyone who's never been though, I'd recommend the Balcony House, dating back to the 1700s, and Government House, the government building where visitors can watch a British changing of the guard. It's like London lite.

We have an outside cabin, which is a big departure for me. I like to travel as much as possible, and this means monitoring your spending on each trip to make sure there's finances left for the next. In this case, the outside cabin actually ended up cheaper than an inside. We booked through Travelocity, but had to do so over the phone because of some tech glitch. When Cory told the woman on the phone our billing address, she told us DC residents get a break on the price. The total cost ended up being $100 less per person, and that's for an upgraded room. So anyone in the DC, Maryland or Virginia areas should look into that.

Now, I just have to finish our packing. There are a few cruise essentials I've learned over the years to always pack: Dramamine, mini shampoos and a small wristlet. Obviously, there are other important items (sunscreen comes to mind) but these are my tried and true tricks specific to cruising that seem to make life easier. Dramamine for those first nights when it seems the ocean is never going to go to sleep. Mini shampoos, even though I always forgo them and use hotel-supplied shampoo to save suitcase room. But most cruiselines offer very low quality toiletries (from a pump in the wall), and cruising is one of the few times I check a bag and pay the fee so that I can take on all the liquid I like. And a wristlet because as soon as I board, I heave off my oversized purse...for the duration of my trip, all I need is my cabin key hung conveniently from my arm.

I'll be sure to post back as soon as I return, and I'll try to take some pretty pictures of the blue Bahamas water. Until then, I hope everyone has a happy and safe Memorial Day. What are your weekend plans?

Horsefeathers!

I'm sure you've already heard, but Erica from America (the horse) didn't do so well at the races on Sunday. As I previously posted here, a racing horse named after this very blog made his racing debut this past weekend, and the end result was more anti-climactic than I had anticipated.

Erica from America ended up coming in second to last, and you can read the final stats here.

It seems my horse couldn't be bothered to keep up with the other guys, and was content to keep to a relaxing gallop as he took in his surroundings on the racetrack. As my stepfather told me afterward: "Maybe she was reading a book."

Yes, my stepfather said she. As you'll remember from my last post on the subject, I explained that Erica from America is a male horse with a girl's name. Which sometimes happens in horse racing. However, both my mother and stepfather now believe the horse is a girl. We have yet to come to a decisive conclusion on this. My stepfather's dad, the owner of the horse, will surely be able to sum this up, and I'll write back shortly as soon as we have final word.

My first horse experience took place in London, when I tried to understand the sport of polo and ended up flat on my back in the mud instead. Read more about that here. That was my first time on a horse, and I could have never predicted that two years later I would be so invested in the horse racing industry.

For now, I'll say I'm still content with the efforts of the androgynous Erica from America. That's a weird sentence for me to write. I'm sure he/she did his/her best, and I'm sure we'll see good things from him/her in the future. Until then, here's a video of Hal's Hope, the most successful horse to come out of my step-grandfather's stable so far. In 2000, he won the Florida Derby, and here's his moment of glory:

Giddy Up!

Can you guess what this is a picture of?

No, it's not just a shot of a blurry pony (he looks in focus in real life, promise). Meet Erica from America...the racing horse, not the person or blog title. Ta da! I'm lucky enough to have family who likes to breed horses then name them after relatives.

My step-grandfather is in the horse racing business and gives his new ponies charming names related to various family members. Case in point, my sister's favorite doll growing up was named Favorite Baby. Creative, no? We all get a real kick out of hearing the macho racing announcers yell out through their microphones "Number six is gaining, he's rounding the corner now...and it's Favorite Baby for the win!"

Erica from America (the horse) is two years old now and ready to make his racing debut, this Sunday at Calder Race Track. Erica from America (the person) is very excited by this. I'm hoping there's a lustrous racing career in store for the handsome guy above. Yes, he's a male horse named Erica. Horse naming is a wonky business, but at least they didn't go with their second choice...Sue.

Lustrous career might not be too much of a stretch, by the way. One of my step-grandfather's horses, Hal's Hope, made quite a name for himself a few years back. Hal's Hope won the Florida Derby in 2000 (read more about that here) and ran in the Kentucky Derby that same year. Sadly, he didn't win the Kentucky roses, but I think this story is a good indicator that there are positive things ahead for Erica from America (both the horse and the person).

Of course he could go the way of the horse named after my sister, Emma's Hope, who always refused to leave her gate after the horn was sounded. She was quickly retired to the pasture and now lives a happy life eating hay and giving birth to ponies. Or, the horse named after my step-grandmother, Anita's Hope, who hung herself in her stable before her first race. I think the pressure got to her.

Whatever his future, it's exciting to finally see my guy's name on an official racing sheet. Check him out at the number three spot:

The race is May 22 at 3:43. Apparently, horses are very time specific creatures. The race can be watched on HRTV...ten points if you guessed that it stands for Horse Racing TV. If Comcast doesn't provide the station for your viewing pleasure, you can catch it online at http://www.tvg.com/. Or, just check back here...I'll be sure to post news on how he does!

I know my family and I will be making more than a few bets on my four legged friend this weekend. Reading Erica from America's stat sheet (found here), it seems his minimum bet is fifty cents. I believe, friends, that is what they call a longshot. Which is fine by me. I'm perfectly happy for my name to be synonymous with that label. It just means when we win, we'll win big. I think there's a life lesson in there somewhere.

To tide us all over until the race, here's a video of my sister feeding Erica from America (the hor...oh, you get the point). She likes to go with her grandpa on the weekends to play with all the horses, but Emma did tell me afterward that she gave my horse "extra cookies."


PS: How exciting is it that my namesake is a dark horse?
PPS: How cute is my sister?
PPPS: If you look closely, you'll notice my sister is wearing an Orlando Magic hat. I love her anyway.

Oh Beautiful, For Spacious Skies

When I first started this blog in 2009, I was living in London and writing a weekly column at the Jewish News. That column, Erica from America, chronicled my attempt to complete 52 quintessentially British tasks in one year (read more about that here). Now, two years later, my 52 adventures are complete and have all been posted about, and I thought perhaps this meant the blog would become obsolete. But I just couldn’t let my baby die. It would be sad and, really, unnecessary. Because while I’ve been blogging about my List of 52 online, I’ve been having other traveling adventures out here in the real world.

I’ve decided to continue writing about my various travels and invite you to come along. If you’ve been keeping up with this blog (or if your name is Becky, Rebecca or Lauren) you know I like to go places. I have a very long list of spots to see before I die. Since returning to the states I’ve traveled to a nice amount of new places and I’ll write about some of that here to catch readers up. Meanwhile, I’ll also be blogging about where I’m currently visiting, so make sure to check back!

When I tried to come up with what my first blog post would be about for this new direction, I decided to start with where I am right now: Washington, DC. I’ve been living here for the past year and sometimes I take for granted that it’s also an amazing spot to visit. Probably my favorite thing about DC is it takes the best parts of New York and London and combines them to make a city that is very metropolitan but still charming, with clean streets and lots of greenery. Plus, there’s plenty of really old stuff, which I like.

I live off of Dupont Circle, which is a pretty well known area in the District. (“American President” fans out there, it’s the circle that Sydney Ellen Wade always said she couldn’t drive on…which I now understand perfectly.)

Here's a prettier shot of the interior of the Circle:

When it's warm out, people swarm this area. And if you're really lucky, those people will be the cast of "Mama Mia."

I spend a lot of time in Dupont Circle (duh, I live there). There are great restaurants, cafes and shops in this area, and all I have to do is walk behind my house to get there. If I'm not hanging out in Dupont Circle, though, I'm in Georgetown. I LOVE Georgetown. It's like a little English village. There's a cottage there called The Old Stone House, which is the oldest home in DC. If you visit the House gift shop, you can try on neat hats.

There's also an area in Georgetown where you can hang out on the Potomac and have a drink near the water. My favorite time to visit is sunset, you get a great view! My relatives Amy and Denise visited and I took them to the spot...it was a hit!

I also played host to my Dad, who visited last month to take advantage of cherry blossom season.

Notice how he's all bundled up? His Florida skin didn't appreciate the DC version of spring. I admit, it can sometimes get cold here. But it is a treat to wake up one morning and be surprised by this:

It may be cold, but snow is pretty. Plus, it's a good excuse to make snow caterpillars, a joy I first discovered in London (as posted here).

Whatever the temperature, though, it's pretty neat to be strolling your neighborhood and pass this:


What about you? I'd love to hear what you all think about the place you call home...

Goodbye Is the Hardest Word

No. 52: Invade the colony

The day before my departure I spent the morning packing then headed off to the office for final goodbyes. Justin went easy on me and only gave me a few pages to read.

“Should we go down to the pub now?” Lauren K asked just before five pm. We all gathered our things and headed toward the door, when Andrew handed me the plastic skull I’d used during my dramatic debut at the Globe.

“Surely you’re not leaving Bonesy behind?” he asked.

“I can’t take him! His home is here.”

Andrew seemed to agree and set Bonesy back in his spot at the center of the editorial table. I walked over to my skeletal mate and placed the cowboy hat I had worn on Halloween atop his head, forgetting now how the hat had made its way into the office in the first place.

“Farewell good friend, you served me well.”

At the pub, I was toasted with rounds by Lauren and Andrew; Johnny Aziz; Sarah with the Mossad husband; Tess who gave me chocolates for my birthday once; and Justin and Zeddy.

Then one by one my friends left, and there were more people to say goodbye to than just the Scarecrow. Andrew promised to send me some sports stories to read when I get to New York, and Lauren was going to e-mail me the names of any single Jewish guys she knew in the states. Soon though, it was just Zeddy, Justin and I standing outside the pub, holding our jackets closed against the chilly summer evening.

“I have something for you,” Justin said.

“Is it Prince William’s phone number?”

“No, I’m saving that for Hanukkah...”

Yes, I Know My Way Around Here

No. 51: Be a London tour guide

When I found out my Dad would be visiting me for a week during my final month in London, I created a mental storyline of how it would go. I would take him for tea and crumpets in the Orangery across from Kensington Palace. We would visit the British Library to see Paul McCartney’s handwritten notes when he was penning Yesterday. I would show him Leyton. I didn’t plan, however, on taking the wrong direction on the Piccadilly line only his second day there.

“Erica, are you sure we shouldn’t be going the other way?”

I looked up from the hoard of rush hour commuters crowding the platform to see a giant Tube map on the tiled wall of the subway tunnel. I glanced at the list of stops the line would be calling at to discover that yes, we should be going the other way.

We turned against the crowd and rushed up and over to the other side of the dim platform. A great gush of wind from the train pulling in swept wads of balled up newspaper past our feet. We jumped onto the train just as the red doors shut gently behind us.

“Well that was exciting,” Dad said, catching his breath.

“I usually know where I’m going. I guess I got turned around.”

“I love these seats,” he said, plopping down on one of the blue upholstered chairs along the side of the train. He sat between a small bird-like woman clutching her purse in her lap and a younger guy with legs that stretched out almost to the other side of the car. The guy was listening to headphones, and I could faintly hear the sounds of Nora Jones.

“Where are we going again?” Dad asked. He inspected the sign above his head and I watched his eyes move over station names like Hounslow and Cockfosters. As the train pulled into its next stop we clung to the red subway poles, leaning heavily to one side while the wheels jerked us to a stop.

“China Town. I found the best Chinese restaurant there. And we’re going to have crispy duck on pancakes.”

“Duck and pancakes?”

“It’s not really pancakes, that’s just what they call it. You’ll like it.”

I was making it my mission to show my father that, whatever Glenn Beck may have to say about it, England had wonderful food. I was also taking this visit as an opportunity to prove to him the country had lovely climates, friendly people and entertaining television. I was a goodwill ambassador with less political know how.

“This is our stop.”

We hopped off the train and climbed up the stairs to emerge in the bustling sunlight of Leicester Square. At least I knew I could find my way around here. We walked down a side street decorated with red paper lanterns and Chinese writing, and entered a wider walkway hidden behind the facades of Shaftsbury Avenue. A row of Chinese restaurants greeted us, each with cheerful spinning ducks in the windows.

I found our restaurant and almost immediately spied Zeddy, his tall figure sticking out over the small group of Asian wait staff trying to seat him.

“You found it!” he greeted as I ushered my Dad in behind me.

“I see you know my daughter..."


...And now, a bunch of gratuitous photos of me and Dad doing neat things in London...