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Archive for the ‘Misc.’ Category

When you Google your name, looking for an article you once wrote:

True story.

Photo love: Cafe Press

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Austin’s new Native Hostel. Photo love: Charles Reagan

I admit it: I’m a grown-ass adult who stays in hostels. This is less about my enthusiasm for sharing dorms with frat boys and contracting Athlete’s Foot, than it is a desire for a sense of place and community when I travel, combined with my modest writer’s income.

I’d rather spend my money on great food, outdoor pursuits, live music and a well-made cocktail or three than a pricey hotel room. Like many travelers, I’ve stayed in my share of hostels, and unfortunately, there’s a reason the term has negative connotations for most Americans.

Loft room. Photo love: Charles Reagan

I’m not alone, which is why North America is jumping on Europe’s boutique hostel trend (think stylish décor and innovative design, often with on-site restaurants and bars emphasizing regional food and drink). They’re more about creating a cultural milieu than the average hotel or budget hostel, and strive to provide guests with more of a “local” experience.

Enter Austin’s Native Hostel, which opened in mid-May. The nation’s only luxury boutique hostel brand, Native has already become a communal hub for visitors and locals, which I can attest because I had the good fortune to be the first paying guest on the books. I spent five nights there while attending Hot Luck Fest last month, and was subsequently asked to review the property for Austin Monthly (note that I’ve repurposed snippets into this post).

One of Native’s many lounge areas. Photo love: Casey Chapman Ross

My initial impression was that “hostel” was perhaps an unfair descriptor. When I later mentioned this to GM Margaret Burke, she understood. “(The owners and I) have had an ongoing conversation about our identity and that word, and we feel that the concept is integral to what we do,” she says. “We’re really community-based and the crux of our business model is about engagement between locals and travelers. We decided we couldn’t leave ‘hostel’ out of our name, so it’s about reinterpreting it, while staying true to the concept.”

‘Nuff said. Read the rest of the review right here, y’all.

Photo love: Charles Reagan

Photo love: Charles Reagan

The Parlor. Photo love: Casey Chapman Ross

“Twin Peaks” night includes housemade cherry pie and coffee. Photo love: Native Hostel

Photo love: Charles Reagan

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When I was seven, my parents took me and my older brother on a ski trip to Vail. The thing I remember most vividly isn’t schussing the slopes, but rather, a restaurant named after a convicted cannibal. If you know anything about my childhood, this should come as no surprise.

In search of a place for dinner one evening, we stumbled upon a creekside eatery called Alfie Packer’s- I can recall my parents cracking up at the name. I think I had a mouthful of cheeseburger when they explained the story behind the restaurant’s moniker, thus instilling in me a lifelong obsession with cannibalism and a lust for fucked-up survival stories.

Just to clarify, it’s a happy memory.

Alferd Packer. Photo love: Lake County-Hinsdale County Chamber of Commerce

For the uninitiated, the “Colorado Cannibal,” Alferd (née Alfred) G. Packer, was a prospector convicted of murdering and eating his five companions while trapped at the base of Slumgullion Pass, outside of present-day Lake City, during the winter of 1875. (read the dirty details in my post for 5280 magazine).

Packer was eventually released on parole, and became a Colorado folk hero of sorts. The embodiment of pioneer badassery, gumption and fortitude, he’s been immortalized in everything from film and song to food service (the University of Colorado Boulder cafeteria is named the Alferd Packer Restaurant & Grill; when it opened in 1968, its catchphrase was, “Have a friend for lunch!”). My brother lives in Truckee, and I’m fond of pointing out that California could stand to get a sense of humor about the the whole Donner Party thing (note that both of us live in areas infamous for cannibalism: Coincidence? I think not).

“Downtown” Lake City. Photo love: LCHC-CCC

This Memorial Day weekend, Lake City is bringing its defunct Packer Days festival back from the dead (sorry, had to). It’s less a celebration of cannibalism than survivalism, featuring events like a Run for Your Life Survival 5k, a Mystery Meat Cook-off, and Scavenger Hunt.

Lake City is worth a visit even if you don’t consider cannibalism cool; it’s a bitch to get to, but the region’s alpine lakes, outdoor pursuits and scenery are worth the effort. The town itself is just as alluring, nestled as it is in a pocket of the San Juan Mountains. It’s a legitimate relic of the Old West, boasting well-preserved buildings, a dusty main drag, and a handful of saloons, restaurants and a truly excellent museum; just up the road is the famed Alferd Packer Massacre site and Cannibal Plateau.

Ready for a road trip? Hit up the Lake City Chamber’s site for details, and don’t forget to pack some snacks- you can never be too prepared.

When in Lake City…

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Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia- get there via the frontera town of Tupiza.

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia- get there via the frontera town of Tupiza.

When Refinery29 asked me to write a feature on the “Top 29 Affordable Trips to Take This Summer,” the criteria was to keep the cost under a hundred bucks a day.

My personal travel budget- even when I’m not on assignment- falls far south of that number, but since I wasn’t allowed to include “sleep in your car” or “camp out in five-star hotel bathroom,” I had my work cut out for me.  I’m the kind of traveler who keeps baby wipes (so versatile!) in my daypack at all times and embraces the logistical challenges of Third World public transit. Not exactly what my editor had in mind.

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18-hour bus ride back to Kathmandu following two-week trek and whitewater trip, sans shower. Happy place.

Still, it wasn’t difficult to come up with 29 entries where you’ll get more than your rupee’s/bhat/dong/dollar’s/riel’s worth. My love of these places is the result of a synergystic melding of their aesthetic and cultural attributes, combined with memorable food/people/outdoor adventures. Consider this post an inspirational guideline for what’s possible, no matter how anemic your budget. Happy travels.

A half-day motorbike tour of the Vietnamese countryside cost $10 (and I learned how to make rice paper if this writing thing doesn't pan out).

A half-day motorbike tour of the Vietnamese countryside cost $20 (and I learned how to make rice paper if this writing thing doesn’t pan out).

 

 

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villager

A year ago today, a 7.8 earthquake struck Nepal. I missed the disaster by 24 hours. I’d been in Nepal for two weeks to trek, run the remote Tamur River, and research a feature for culture: the word on cheese, on Nepali cheesemaking. The story, which was slated to run last fall, was by necessity postponed to this spring; most of the cheesemakers I profiled were affected by the earthquake, but fortunately, they suffered only minor losses and no casualties.

Churrpi- dried yak cheese- air-dries in Gufa Pokari

Churrpi- dried yak cheese- air-dries in Gufa Pokari

On this, the anniversary of Nepal’s deadliest natural disaster, I’m sharing my culture feature in its entirety. It includes relief donation information (still critically needed), but it also it shows the beauty, generosity of spirit, and resilience of the Nepali people. It’s my dairy-centric love letter to the most incredible country I’ve ever visited.

“It’s perhaps the most unlikely spot on earth to taste locally made, French-style cheeses: the rooftop of an apartment building in the Lazimpat neighborhood of Kathmandu. It’s April 10, 2015, two weeks before a devastating earthquake will level much of the city and villages throughout this region of Nepal, causing an avalanche on Mount Everest and resulting in over 9,000 fatalities. An aftershock on May 12 will cause further devastation and increase the death toll.

 At the moment, however, I’m sitting with French cheesemaker François Driard in a high-rise urban oasis that seems a million miles from the smog and chaos below, watching the sun set and sipping Pastis between bites of his superb tomme. Driard owns Himalayan French Cheese and produces a diverse array of pasteurized cow’s and yak’s milk cheeses at his two creameries in the foothills of some of the highest mountains in the world.

 I’ve been fascinated with Nepali cheesemaking since researching my book, Cheese for Dummies, mostly because little has been written about it. Last spring I traveled there to explore both rural cheesemaking traditions and how Kathmandu-area producers such as Driard are modernizing their craft for a feature in the Autumn 2014 issue of culture. But nature had other plans. Now it’s also a story about how Nepal and the cheesemakers I met there are moving on, one year after the country’s deadliest natural disaster on record.”

Read the rest of the story here.

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This is not the kind of dog you'll meet in foreign bars.

This is not the kind of dog you’ll often find in foreign bars.

As a rule, I don’t kiss and tell in writing. Despite my propensity for blabbing self-deprecating, often humiliating stories about my childhood and adventures on the road, one thing I’m notoriously tight-lipped about is my romantic life (mainly because it’s historically involved oft-humiliating stories).

But, I guess we all have a price and after 25 years of solo travel– much of it occupational- I’m sufficiently experienced at road sluttiness to merit an editorial request for an essay on travel flings.

Without further ado, my Refinery29 post on how to be whorey whilst wandering. Read, learn, enjoy. And if you follow this blog and are a friend of my parents, for the love of god, please don’t send them this link. ‘K, thanks. Safe travels.

La Paz humor

La Paz humor

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Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

If you’ve ever platonically loved and lost while on the road, don’t feel bad. Shared adventures and totally fucked up circumstances often make for great- if short-term- friendships (as well as strange bedfellows, but that’s a different post). It’s a common phenom that I explore in this post on Refinery29. Sometimes, it really isn’t you- it’s them. Or me.

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