I know this fantastic blog comparing Paris to New York has been flying around for a while now, but I will post again because it’s beyond accurate and the illustrations are completely awesome.

Imagine working at New York’s tourism office right after 9/11. Ouch.

We’ve discussed New Orleans’ smart ad campaign to combat the negative stereotypes surrounding the oil spill and Hurricane Katrina. It’s been five years since the levees broke, and the city has had a lot of attention to mark the anniversary, most notably GOOD magazine’s entire issue about the rebuilding of the city. Things seem to be looking up for the Big Easy.

The city now boasts more than 300 new restaurants, hotels have undergone $400 million in improvements, and there are new cultural attractions such as The Audubon Insectarium and The Southern Food and Beverage Museum. And tourism jobs are up to 70,000, slightly below a pre-Katrina high of 85,000.

What do tourist bureaus, do, however, when a massively popular television series takes the entire town’s system to task? For five years?

I’m talking, of course, about the HBO series The Wire, and the city of Baltimore. I’m one of those arrived-late-in-the-game-viewers of the critically-acclaimed series, and I am seriously addicted to this show. Each season looks at a different aspect of what has contributed to the city’s overall drug, unemployment, homeless and violence issues, via the streets, political and school system, and the media. It paints a completely bleak and harrowing look at the town.

How on earth do the people at Baltimore’s visitors bureau fight the perception brought on by The Wire? I have to believe that series caused a problem for their tourist industry. This is a great piece about how the show fuels this perception:

You could argue that The Wire gives a distorted image of Baltimore. The story rarely takes us to the safe, affluent areas of the city, and they do exist – the Inner Harbor, for example. Home to a public aquarium, a science centre and a “festival marketplace” (a complex of shops and restaurants), the Inner Harbor is superficially a pleasant place to visit, and attracts thousands of tourists. But if The Wire has taught us anything, it is not to trust appearances. The area was redeveloped in the 1970s and 80s under the auspices of mayor William Donald Schaefer, through a public-private partnership. As well as the aquarium, some hotels and a convention centre were constructed with a view to attracting tourist and “hospitality” dollars to the city. But an even larger convention centre was subsequently needed to make the plan work. Then, it emerged, an even larger hotel was needed to make that work. The result was a phenomenon Harvey calls “feeding the downtown monster”.

I laughed hysterically when I saw the city’s latest campaign: Find Your Happy Place in Baltimore. They’re using social media, and made their website all friendly and whatnot. But after watching that show, and visiting a few times myself, it feels like a serious stretch.

I wonder if New Orleans is at all concerned about David Simon’s (the creator of The Wire) new series, Treme. Named after an area in New Orleans, and set three months after the Katrina disaster, the show explores how citizens of the city rebuild their lives. I’ve heard it isn’t as gritty as The Wire, but it’s only begun. Simon’s genius is how he shows a city’s dysfunction on every level.

I’m not convinced even the savviest of PR tourist campaigns can salvage a town’s image once Simon rides into town.

I filed it away to the back of my mind, but then when we were there, another set of friends suggested his work to us, so we had to check it out.

Anthony Howe is a sculptor whose work seems to be influenced dramatically by nature and engineering.

You are free to walk through the grounds of his compound which is very near the town of Eastsound. You witness these amazing, kinetic sculptures that move with the wind and have their own incredible mechanics. They have been designed so that when air hits them they make eerie and other worldly noises. His work is best seen in the flesh, or by video:

He has an indoor area as well:

His work is such a nice departure from typical island bad art kitsch.

But I was trying to be prudent and wanted to take advantage of the Pacific Northwest’s gorgeous weather this time of year. So I ultimately decided on a four-day trip to Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands.

I really can’t stress enough the beauty of these islands. They are only a 90-minute drive north from Seattle, and then an hour or so ferry ride. But they might as well be 20 hours from the nearest big city, because they are so unspoiled, and once you are there, it feels like you are practically alone.

Notice I say feels like you are alone once you’re there. Because you wouldn’t know it from the ferry lines in Anacortes, the town where you catch the boats. For a 3:45 pm ferry leaving on a Friday, we got there two hours beforehand, and cars stretched for miles waiting to get on. We ended up with a standby ticket, and were told we might make that ferry. Oh, and the boat was an hour behind schedule. At 5 pm, we were one of the last cars on.

But then — we were whisked away. And I quickly forgot about the wait. Because it really is that beautiful.

I ultimately chose the island of Orcas because it reminds me of Block Island off the coast of Rhode Island, where my family used to vacation when I was a kid. Orcas’ main town of Eastsound is in the middle of the island, and two decent size mountains — Turtleback Mountain and Mount Constitution — are on either end of the island’s horseshoe shape. Orcas has a great mixture of endless coastlines, mountain hikes, small villages, and is the home of talented artisans.

We decided to stay on the far end of the island at a place called Doe Bay Resort & Retreat. I was a tad reluctant to book here because I’m not into resorts, and I’m not into retreats. I find resorts boring and expensive and usually suck everything that I like about travel out of a destination. I stayed at the famous Rosario Resort on Orcas once, and meh. The accommodations were tired, the food was marginal and I wanted out.

But Doe Bay! Doe Bay is not a resort. And it’s not a retreat. At first I thought it might feel a tad hippie dippy for me, but it wasn’t. It’s whatever you want it to be. You can camp. Or you can car camp. Or you can stay in a yurt. Or a small cabin. Or a house. It was clean, unpretentious and the grounds were  immaculate. The staff was friendly and helpful. There’s a sauna and plunge pools, beach access, and they have a spectacular restaurant.

We camped in a spot overlooking the water, and had this for dinner:

I loved the juxtaposition of a tent and sleeping bags coupled with a delicious meal. Oh — and the whole experience was reasonably priced, too.

Yay for Doe Bay!

I was carrying powdered soap and a scented candle someone had given me as a gift, and that just about threw the Midwest TSA guys into a complete tizzy.

“We’ve got a live one here.”

Yes. That’s what they said. About my scented candle and powdered cleanser. In Madison, Wisconsin. Before I knew it, SIX of them were staring at the x-ray machine determining whether or not I was carrying materials for some sort of explosive device. They tore apart my entire bag. I was beyond annoyed.

I seriously hate checking my luggage, but my biggest challenge with carrying on is the liquid conundrum. The whole must-be-under-3 ounces thing really drives me nuts, and fitting everything in the small ziplock bag thing is beyond stupid. I find myself ripping apart my bathroom before every trip searching for my travel-sized bottles while I stand there maniacally squeezing my various cleansers, shampoos, etc. into these containers.

So lately I’ve been obsessed with circumventing this issue à la powdered soap. And I recently came across this product by Flight 001 that bills itself as paper shampoo. I bet a zillion dollars it doesn’t work well, but I’m intrigued.

Who knows, though, it might just make the Madison TSA dudes have a total mind meltdown.

I’m experiencing a grown-up version of that now, as this Friday will be my final day at my job. After that, I will have two free weeks before I launch into my next gig.

Photo credit: Todd Klassy

What to do? Where to go?

It’s kind of fun when you have zilcho time to plan for a holiday. While Lia has been working on her Dutch Princess School excursion for months now, I basically have a week or so to figure out if…and where…I’ll go.

I first called my frequent flier plans to see if I could cash in any of my miles at the last minute. I wasn’t that interested in flying within the US (prefer to use miles internationally or on swanky hotels state-side), or Latin America (too hot)…And I didn’t have enough for Asia. Only one plan was able to find a flight to Frankfurt, but nothing on the return. Boo.

I was relieved in a way.

Seattle is notorious for its “June Gloom.” It always rains on the 4th of July, and then, miraculously the week after, the region becomes this out-of-control-this-is-why-we-live-here type of paradise. Today it’s 80 degrees and sunny. Not an ounce of humidity.

So I think I’m going to stick around, but will take long weekend road trips. Right now, I’m considering one or more of the following:

• Methow Valley – Incredibly, I’ve never been here and I’ve lived in the Pac NW for a long time. It’s apparently a breathtaking valley with wonderful hiking on the east side of the Cascade Mountains.
• San Juan Islands -The long ferry lines can sometimes be a drag, but once you land, each island has its own magical character. I’ve been to the islands of San Juan and Orcas many times. Lopez Island is supposed to be fantastic for biking as it’s really flat.
• Vancouver Island – The novelty meter goes way up because you get to go across the border, and the majority of the island is a park. I’ve been to Victoria, BC, but never explored the island.
• Olympic Peninsula – It recently gained fame as the setting for the Twilight zeitgeist, but I’m not going to let that get in my way. Olympic National Park is one of my favorite parks.

Any other suggestions?

We were chatting during our trip, and I asked her, “Is there any place on the planet you don’t want to visit?”

She said, “Antarctica.”

I was surprised. Now, I know that kind of adventure might not be for everyone, but she’s very outdoorsy and likes to push herself physically. But when it came to the South Pole, she told me that it just didn’t interest her.

I’m dying to go, as I’ve heard the wildlife is unprecedented and the landscape is completely pristine. Mountains are impossible to fathom due to their massive scale. In my desire for full disclosure, my significant other has been there (hence these amazing photos). He said it was unlike anywhere he’s ever been.

Sign me up.

Maybe I’m not game for exploring everywhere. There are obvious no-no’s: Iraq, Pakistan and Afghanistan. And maybe not Saudi Arabia since a friend once told me that Riyadh is quite possibly the sketchiest place he’s ever been.

But besides war torn areas, I can’t really think of any place I don’t want to go.

I love going somewhere new, and the more off the beaten track the better. I remember once landing in Odessa, Ukraine in December. It was snowing, and the Cyrillic alphabet covered the airport, making it impossible to form language assumptions. My tax driver wore a fur hat and coat and we negotiated the fare and my destination with a calculator and hand signals.

My desire to go anywhere probably stems from my childhood dream of being a foreign correspondent, and my obsession with interesting over happy.

Is it reckless and absurd to say I’d go to North Korea? Perhaps. I don’t really care. It’s new. It’s totally foreign. And it challenges me.

As Greece sifts through the wreckage wrought by its enormous public debt, which sent tremors through world finance in recent months, the Athens Games are once again unifying this nation—this time as a target of criticism. They cost an estimated $7.4 billion to $14 billion, minor in light of the more than $370 billion of public debt, but that hasn’t mitigated the resentment.

I’ve always been interested in the economics behind the Olympic games. Cities spend top dollar to pitch their destinations to the Olympic selection committee, but how does it pay back down the road? In the short term it boosts economies, but what about the long term?

China is experiencing an economic boom right now, but eventually its economy will dip. And as the article indicates, “Beijing still hasn’t figured out what to do with its massive stadium built for the Olympics, called the Bird’s Nest.”

I’ve been wondering about Vancouver. Lia and I love that city, but we’ve not been back since the winter Olympics. There was some coverage surrounding the homeless issue there, but what about the buildings built for the games that may now not be in use? Perhaps it’s not an issue, since so many of the events were in venues surrounding the city. Still, I’m looking forward to seeing how its changed, and the games’ overall impact.

I saw this piece on Dezeen today about a temporary structure made of materials from a London 2012 summer games construction site. I love the concept, and the design. Why don’t Olympic host cities do this all the time?

Now that would be innovative. And sustainable.

Dezeen magazine reports on his unbelievably hideous Lou Ruvo Center for Brain Health which recently opened in Las Vegas. Imagine the low man on the totem pole in Gehry’s office stuck on this project for three years. He or she would seriously have to have his or her own brain examined upon the building’s completion.

Photo credit: Christophotographer

Don’t get me wrong. I think some of Gehry’s buildings work. I don’t mind the Experience Music Project in my own backyard because it accurately reflects its content: a rock and roll museum. And Lia is a fan of the Bilbao Guggenheim because it’s a museum of MODERN ART.

But CENTER FOR BRAIN HEALTH? Why can’t he stop with the funky curvy buildings? Was he REALLY the best architect for this project?

This just makes me angry. And it’s so classic Vegas.

Thankfully, the comments in the Dezeen piece provide great comedic relief:

Clark Says:

Is it just me or should structure dedicated to brain health and function not be so… well… crazy? As a form and building, I love it. But the application almost seems insulting.

Jan Says:

Maybe they can accept Gehry as the first patient…

Yep. What you are witnessing are people swimming in Phuket, Thailand with an elephant. They invited me to join them later. It was one of the most thrilling experiences of my life. Here’s another one because, happy elephants frolicking in clean oceans = AWESOME.

And here are some photos of what appeared to be a thriving fishing community in Pengang, Malaysia. I feel so terrible for all those families along the Gulf Coast who have lost their livelihood because of BP’s incredible ineptitude.

I was struck by some of the most elementary of fishing techniques that were being used.

I donated to Oceana this week. They are just one of many important organizations doing vital work to help preserve and protect our world’s oceans. Heureux anniversaire, Jacques, and kudos to everyone else helping make our seas happy and healthy.