Cruise Travel Apps Free To Use At Sea

by Chris Owen on

When we review travel apps that actually do something, they often tap crowd-sourced information that is as rich (or not) as the number of users who have contributed their opinions or reviews. GPS-based travel apps take existing technology and manipulate it in one way or another to bring every thing from finding a friend on the road to creating a virtual journal of our travels, step by step. In the world of cruise travel, the number of apps available is limited compared to other modes of transportation but they are often highly specific, producing information not available elsewhere.

Norwegian Cruise Lines has a newly updated travel app that can be a helpful planning tool in advance of sailing with information about destinations, ships and special offers. Once on board Norwegian’s newest ships, even more helpful features are available.

The free download for iPhone, Android and Windows 7 features photo galleries and videos; ship information including deck plans and on-board amenities; stateroom descriptions, images and floor plans; 360-degree virtual ship tours and more.

On board Norwegian Epic and Norwegian Breakaway, passengers can log on, select an Internet package to buy then text and call others on the ship who are also connected, using time from their pre-paid plan. Free services include the ability to see previews of and book shore excursions, restaurants and other on-board products like spa services and shopping. Users can view their shipboard charge account as well as a list of daily activities at any time, also without using purchased Internet minutes.Sailing some other cruise line? Cruise Ship Mate ($1.99), can be even more helpful in the planning stages of cruise travel as it has the ability to see all itineraries of all major cruise lines. Included among features that do not need an Internet connection to use are deck plans, cruise ship information and a packing list. Connected, users get cruise ship deck cam links and a chat feature that enables passengers on a specific ship and sailing date to communicate in advance of and during sailing.

A unique feature on the Cruise Ship Mate app is a Cruise Ship Tracker. This one allows users to see the exact location of any ship at any time, using technology similar to that of CruiseCal, the long running subscriber-based website that pinpoints where ships are and which ships will be in port at the same time you are.

But maybe you are not really into apps but have some favorite travel websites that you would like to access quickly on your Apple iPhone or iPad?

iPhone 5 users can create quick links to their most-visited websites using the “add to home screen” option, like I did for the Gadling site. On your favorite site, in Safari, just tap the “Share” button at the bottom of the screen, tap the icon labeled “Add to Home Screen,” tap the “Add” button then launch the website from your Home screen by tapping its icon.

Looking for other helpful travel apps? Check this video for apps that tell us everything from what is going on at any given destination to where restrooms are located.


[Image credit – Chris Owen]

Half The World Pedaled, Half To Go

by Megan Fernandez on

Later this week, Vancouver firefighter and cancer survivor Rudy Pospisil will unpack his Giant Seek bicycle on the coast of Portugal, clip in and head for the Middle East. The road ahead stretches 9,000 miles, the distance between him and his goal of circumnavigating the globe on two wheels for charity. He knows he can do it, because he already has – between 2009 and 2012, he logged 9,000 miles completing the first half of his epic quest, surviving armed bandits, eating grass and riding one brutal 100-mile slog after another.

The 51-year-old’s day isn’t over after 10 hours on the bike. When he arrives at a destination, he’s often expected at a local fundraiser, has blogs to write and letters from cancer survivors to answer. This is Pospisil’s vacation – he takes off work six to eight weeks at a time to keep climbing this personal mountain, fighting a disease that has affected nearly every member of his family, including a dog.

Before his wheels started spinning in Europe, he talked to Gadling about Guinness Book of World Records requirements, why he’s not allowed to get a new bike and the trick to surviving machete-wielding bandits.

First, how is your health?
Health is good. I lose about 20 pounds on each ride, and I’m fit and trim from training before I go. But health can change the next day after a scan or blood test. You never know.

When you say circumnavigating the globe, what do you mean?
The Guinness people have rules that qualify as a true global circumnavigation. You must use the same bike, always go the same direction (I go west to east), cross the equator twice, travel at least 18,000 miles and cross two antipodal points (exact opposite points) on the earth.

One bike for 18,000 miles?
Yes. I have to get lots of repairs after and on each leg. I ship it, trusting a bike shop to accept it and assemble it. Another cost and logistics issue. Portugal customs just seized (their translation was “arrested”) my bike and equipment early this week. Wanted 600 euros, duties, import fees, “ransom,” etc. Then possibly more to process it. They wanted me to arrive in person to release it. It was unfounded, as the declaration stated it was “personal used items leaving the country.” They would not budge. I contacted my consulate and federal government in Ottawa. They then released by stuff. No apology.

Have you figured out what your antipodal points will be?
Portugal and New Zealand.

How does one apply for a Guinness world record?
You must provide passport stamps and pictures and video with you in them. I do that, plus Google Maps plots my GPS along the way. It won’t be a world record – only a record that I accomplished the global cycle and followed all the rules to qualify.

What kind of numbers have you logged?
Nine countries and 160,000 vertical feet of elevation. That’s enough to get to space, and halfway around the globe. I just can’t wait to get going again. It’s so hard to stop, go back to the fire station, then train all over again for the next leg.

Where have you been so far?
In 2009, I cycled from Munich to Budapest along the Danube River, through five countries, and started annual fundraisers in Prague and Budapest. In 2010, I cycled from Vancouver to Mexico along the Pacific coast. In Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego, I met police and firefighters outside the city and rode into town together to a cancer fundraiser. In San Francisco I had a full police escort. They even stopped the traffic. In 2011 I was asked to circle Oahu with the Hawaiian Bicycle League to raise funds for a safer cycle network after an 18-year-old boy was killed by a hit-and-run driver. I stopped my global ride to go, and it was worth it. In 2012 I crossed the southern U.S. from San Diego to St. Petersburg, Florida. It was a complete adventure that included a robbery, a shooting, getting struck by a car and Mexican bandits that let me live because they like Canadians.

Um, what? How did you get entangled with them? And more importantly, untangled?
It happened near a town called Guadalupe. The town was a rundown place with closed-down stores. Everyone was looking at me, like the stranger that rides into town in a Western movie. About five miles outside of town, these two guys in a lowrider-type car pulled up beside me and offered to carry my saddlebags up the forthcoming hill. I politely declined and said that three police officers riding with me, about 3 miles back, would help me. This was BS, but they weren’t sure. They turned around, likely looking for the officers. I turned it on as fast as I could but there were no side roads – nowhere to hide, just desert and scrub. The lowrider shot past me about 15 minutes later and parked on the side of the road. One guy was waving a machete. They said they would now help me with the bags. I said that I could just give them my wallet instead and save them a lot of room. I have what I call a dummy wallet with an expired credit card and some bills, just for situations like this. I was remembering the turkey vultures all along these roads I had seen, eating dead carcasses, and wondered if I would be next. They saw my small fundraiser Canadian flag with the globe and bike pictured on it. They talked together about it for some time. They looked further through my bags and drove off, just like that. I guess they figured that I was okay to go. My second chance at life after cancer.

How often are you in danger?
Many times. I was hit by a car in central Oregon. Forced off the road by rednecks in Texas. Had my front tire shot out in L.A. – either they were a bad shot and completely missed me, or a great shot and hit the front tire rim. Cramped so bad in Hungary I could not move for 12 hours. I have a small rearview mirror that sticks out a few inches from my handlebar. Three have been clipped off by passing cars. And I have met many scorpions and rattlesnakes in the desert.

What happened in Hungary?
I was in the country and really pushing, trying to make it to Budapest. I was exhausted, out of water, dehydrated and kept getting slight cramps in my calves. So I stopped to rest my legs. I started cramping in my hamstrings and was rolling around on the ground in this field. It got so severe I could not do much other than lie there. I knew I had to get water. I started chewing on grass, hoping I could get some liquid out of it, but that only cramped up my stomach. I drifted in and out of sleep, or maybe consciousness, only waking to cramp up. I must have been there at least 12 hours, until the next morning. I managed to get on my bike and get to a farmhouse. They made me scrambled eggs. I think it was the best meal in my life.

What’s your average day?
Eat, sleep, ride. Eat, sleep, ride.

Very funny.
Usually I am up at sunrise. I try to cook a nutritional breakfast. I try to stop every two hours to stretch and maybe eat an energy bar. I need to try to shower and clean the bacteria and salt from my skin. If there is no water I use antiseptic wipes. If you leave the salt on the skin, it will be like sandpaper and rub you raw the next day; it’s so bad it has stopped Tour de France riders as a result of infection. Then it’s time to eat. You must try to ensure the proper percentage of fat, protein and carbohydrates, as that’s your fuel. It’s very hard to do this in desolate areas. I have dehydrated meals sometimes. I eat a lot, then after an hour or two I’m always hungry again. I sleep between five and eight hours a night.

And you’re alone?
Yes. It gets extremely lonely.

How do you occupy your mind?
I try to think that I am never alone. My nephew, who died at 15, and my dad, who died last year of cancer, are with me a lot of the time. I look for animals in the fields and hills. I think about my blog and what I will write that night. How I will answer emails I got from sick people who had some hard questions. Sometimes I think a long time about what I might eat that night. Sometimes I get really lonely and sad and just want to go home, especially if it’s my birthday or Thanksgiving. So I spend a lot of time on positive, happy thoughts, as sadness and negativity are very draining and defeating.

When you plot your route, what do you consider and what do you avoid?
You might not think this, but one of the biggest challenges is water. It’s heavy, and you can’t carry too much or not enough. You must know for sure where you can get more. If you make a mistake, you might get dehydrated, delirious and possibly die. Where I go there are usually no cellphones, cars or people for long stretches. In the deserts, I have encountered temperatures up to 120 degrees. I have been in sandstorms, thunderstorms, the edge of a hurricane and freezing temperatures. I find the desert the hardest, as I’m from Vancouver and we have streams and shade. Here, I could survive easily.

I don’t avoid hills or mountains. I avoid cities. A big city you’ve never been to is a real minefield. Texas was pretty bad with 85 mph speed limits and very aggressive drivers. In sections I had to go on the interstate. Blown tires and steel belt wires from tires caused numerous flats.

Tell me about your charity work on the road.
My goal was $50,000. I have raised just under $20,000 in Canada. I’m not sure how much has been raised in the other countries. I contact firefighters in cities ahead, or the area’s cancer agency. For example, in Switzerland I will cycle from Basel to Zurich with the Swiss Cancer Association and firefighters from Zurich. We will have an event in town where the mayor comes out, media, etc. I raise funds for their charity, The Race Against Cancer. I try to write a blog each day on firefightercycle.com. People follow me, as I have a GPS. I go on Vancouver radio shows each week, and sometimes newspaper reporters track me down. It’s very draining, writing each day after riding, answering letters (sometimes sad ones from cancer patients) or attending an event when all you want is a shower, a meal and to sleep.

Logistically, how do you arrange something like this?
Logistics is a huge job. I have to try to avoid cities but yet get to cities for fundraisers. I have to arrange fundraisers, try to find a deal on gear, flights, food, etc. It’s extremely expensive to do this, so I do what I can to economize. I wish I had a major sponsor. I have filmed the entire journey and have over 25 hours, some amazing footage. I’m hoping a producer might contact me to make a documentary. That would be huge for awareness and fundraising.

What were some places you’d bike again, and some places you hope to never see again – at least on a bike?
Cycling the Danube from Munich to Budapest was great. It was all on a trail, and there was plenty of food and water. The people were great. Mexico and the Texas border were terrible. There were people crossing into the U.S., border patrol chasing them day and night, and everyone seemed to carry a gun there. The heat was extreme, and west Texas was as barren as the moon.

What are some of the most cycling-friendly places you’ve been?
Western Europe, likely Hungary. There is a great cycling infrastructure in Europe. Cycle paths are built alongside roads to make it safe and get bikes away from cars. Also, there are not a lot of fences at the side of the roads, so you can go into a field and rest or camp and feel safe. The food is quite good and easy to come by.

How does a leg end? Do you have a traditional celebration?
The last leg ended at the Atlantic Ocean. I dumped in water and sand from the Pacific, then I jumped in and swam. I had an inflatable globe, added my website and sent it out to sea. Finishing a leg is usually quite emotional, as I have gone so far and had so many experiences and close calls. It all comes out. Sometimes I cry.

It’s one thing to start something epic with good intentions and some resources, but it’s quite another to finish it. Life tends to get in the way. What keeps you going?
I think of Terry Fox, who ran halfway across Canada, a marathon each day, on one leg. He died from cancer halfway through the journey. He grew up in my city and was my age. Rick Hansen pushed himself in a wheelchair around the world. But mostly it’s the letters from people telling me to keep going and the donations. Sometimes I find the poorest people give the most. A girl working at the counter in McDonald’s in Washington state donated $50 to the Cancer Society when I stopped there. That really inspires me.

A lot of people want to have an adventure, but they don’t know where to begin. How can someone take that first step?
So many people tell me that at events, “I wish I could do what you do.” Fact is you can. You don’t have to ride around the world. Join a charity and help them. It will grow on you, and you will meet the best people of society in these organizations and will just want to do more.

What is your ultimate goal?
That my global ride will inspire many other people to start fundraising efforts around the world. To get pharmaceutical companies to all try to work together and share information to find a cure rather than a profit. I am sure that within 10 years almost all cancers could be a treatable chronic illness, not a deadly disease with limited survival rates.

When do you expect to wrap up?
I may finish the global circumnavigation within 24 months, but I will never wrap up. I will still continue either by riding, giving talks or joining other ongoing efforts worldwide.

You can follow Pospisil’s progress through Europe to Iran and find his scheduled fundraisers on his website, firefightercycle.com.

[Photos courtesy Rudy Pospisil]

In Praise Of Travel Lists

by Alex Robertson Textor on

Travel lists get a lot of grief. I’ve overheard many fellow travel writers offer the opinion that lists of various sorts are deeply inferior to any and all narrative travel writing. Others have suggested that lists are slowly crowding out real travel writing entirely.

C’mon now.

Let’s agree for a few provisional minutes that the purpose of travel writing is, very generally, to inspire people to think about travel. (Why not? This is a good goal, all things considered.) Few genres of writing are better suited to achieving this goal than travel lists – lists of destinations, hotels, beaches, restaurants and so on. A list written by an expert can feel like an extended secret, like an invitation to experience the world differently.

Lists at their best are efficient. They cover key territory and reduce unnecessary noise. They reveal their writers’ passions directly. Are they the ticket to cross-cultural understanding? Not usually, but then very few traditional travel stories, no matter how drenched they may be in self-importance, ever accomplish this end.

Let’s take this past Saturday’s print edition of Guardian Travel as an example of the value of travel lists. The section was full of inspiring ideas in list form – summer holiday recommendations, adventures in south-west England, and cool accommodations on the Isle of Wight. There’s a more bullet-point-like list of upcoming holiday festivals in the UK as well.

The summer holiday recommendations kick off with some exciting suggestions about corners of France slightly off the beaten path, written by Jacqueline Mirtelli of Atout France, the France Tourism Development Agency. Mirtelli suggests Cap Corse, the little-visited peninsula on the northern coast of Corsica, and finishes off her tip list with the inland villages of the Var, a region in Provence. Elsewhere Michael Cullen of i-escape tips the Greek island of Kastellorizo, Simon Wrench of Inntravel suggests the Danish Riviera, and Lucy Kane of Rough Guides lists Tbilisi, Palma and Montenegro as her summer travel recommendations.

In this short round-up piece the excitement of summer travel is infectious and inspiring. There is information here, and more importantly there are multiple jumping-off points for research. Could this sort of generalized excitement be achieved by one longer piece on, say, the Amalfi Coast? I’m doubtful that it could.

Like many absolutist stands that we travel writers get sidetracked into on occasion, the resistance to lists is misplaced. The wholesale replacement of narrative by lists would be a terrible development for sure; shy of that, there’s no need to attack the humble list. There is, however, as always, a need across genres for high-quality versions of all types of writing.

[Image of Cap Corse: Flickr | cremona daniel]

Forget Mykonos, Try Syros, Your Friendly Neighborhood Greek Island

by Dave Seminara on

I arrived on the Greek island of Syros on the night ferry from Samos at 2:30 a.m., bleary-eyed and in need of coffee or a bed, maybe both. My sons, then 2 and 4, were still half-asleep, wondering why the hell we’d hustled them out of their tidy bunks in the middle of the night. We stepped over backpackers, most of them heading to Mykonos, Naxos or Santorini, who were still asleep in the corridors of the boat, and alighted in Ermoupolis, the cultural and administrative capital of the Cyclades island group.
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I had heard that Ermoupolis was a thriving place, busy year round, but not touristy. But at 2:30 a.m. on a Monday night in early June the place was dead, with just a few cars there to greet the ferry – mostly locals picking up friends and relatives. I had reserved a room at a place called Lila’s Guesthouse and though she had promised to pick us up at no charge, I somehow doubted she’d be there. I booked a swanky looking one-bedroom loft with two balconies in a historic building that had once housed the French consulate for 60 euros. If I was Lila, I would have told me to take a taxi. But there she was with a little sign waiting to take us to our room.The drive up the steep hill above the port was a perfect introduction to our ancient neighborhood. The hotel is less than a mile up the hill from the port, and I could get there easily via a series of staircases, but if you told me to drive there, following Lila’s path in an out of a labyrinth of anorexic alleyways, I don’t think I could do it for a million dollars.

Lila’s turned out to be a revelation and so did Syros. Tourists flock to Mykonos, which is undeniably picturesque but can be a zoo – crowded, expensive and touristy to a fault. But hop on the ferry in Mykonos, fork over 8 euros and in an hour, you’re in Ermoupolis, a fascinating little city that is home to many of Greece’s wealthiest shipping magnates.

It’s a small island that attracts far fewer tourists, but it has pretty much everything you might want on a Greek island: seductive beaches, nightlife, history, old churches, a thriving port, and great food at reasonable prices. There are no large, beachfront resorts but it’s a great place to experience Greek culture and hospitality.

Tourism is manageable enough on Syros that you feel like the locals you meet actually have an interest in meeting you, in sharp contrast to busier islands, like Santorini, Naxos or Mykonos, where you can sometimes feel like the whole point of every interaction is all about buying and selling. We spent just four days on the island but on each day I met people whom I’ll never forget.

Dimitrios, Lila’s husband, was a businessman in Athens before they decided to move to Syros in order to live a quieter life. He was a jack-of-all-trades but what I found most interesting about the way he ran the hotel was how he made the place a magnet for neighborhood kids, who would pop by to talk about the latest soccer match or have a drink. It made me feel as though we were part of the neighborhood rather than just a bunch of transients in a tourist ghetto.

Dimitrios noticed that one of my shirts had a huge hole in it and he said he’d send it to be sewed. The next day it was as good as new for 5 euros. And when I asked him to recommend a laundromat, he said, “Why? I’ll do your laundry for you.” When I protested that we had a huge bag of dirty laundry, he waved me off, and within a few hours, all of our clothing was washed and folded into neat piles in our room. The charge? “No charge,” he insisted.

One afternoon, we were out taking a walk and my sons were fed up with the strong sun and all the hills, so we stood around trying in vain to find a taxi. I saw a woman in her 30s sitting on a second floor balcony and asked her if she could call a cab for us. She got up off her chair, walked into her apartment, emerged moments later on the street where we were standing and then crossed to the other side.

I saw her walk a half block up the street and wondered what was going on until I saw her pull a phone card out of her purse and pop it into a pay phone. After she made the call, she came over to explain that she had no phone in her apartment because she was unemployed and didn’t have much money. She stayed to chat with us while we waited 10-15 minutes for our cab and we learned that she had gone to beauty school to become a hairdresser but had long ago given up trying to find work. I tried to give her a couple euros for the phone call but she wouldn’t take it.

The following night, we went up to Ano Syros, a fascinating 1,000-year-old Catholic neighborhood located high above the port that is filled with vistas and atmospheric tavernas and shops. We met a woman selling hand-painted souvenirs she made herself that seemed absurdly undervalued for how beautiful they were, and as she began to wrap them up in lovely little bowed parcels, she started telling us about what a mess Greece was in. She told us she was still proud to be Greek but started crying recounting all the people she knew who were struggling to get by.

“I don’t know what’s happened to our country,” she said, drying tears from her face.

Our last night in Syros was magic. We visited a tiny, picturesque little village called San Michalis, up above Ano Syros, and had one of the most memorable meals of our lives at a place called To Plakostroto (see photo above). There are only two men still living in San Michalis – Francesco and Giovanni – and we met them both, along with a host of their friends, who had dropped by to play cards.

Francesco played a tune for us on his goatskin tsabouna, we tried some of his homemade wine and as we looked out at a panorama that included six neighboring islands, I couldn’t help but feel as though we’d captured something elusive, a spirit, a feeling, something – that thing we look for on the road that makes a place dear to us. We found Greece in a ruined hilltop village with just two residents but these kinds of undiscovered edens are dotted all over the Aegean. All you have to do is just step off the ferry in the middle of the night, when everyone else is still asleep.

[Photo and video credits: Dave Seminara]

Video Of The Day: Taking The Plunge In Boznia-Herzegovina

by Libby Zay on

Often times, we “ooh” and “ahh” at landmarks – particularly the pretty ones – without giving much thought to the history behind them. In the old town of Mostar, Boznia-Herzegovina, the Stari Most (or “Old Bridge” in english) comes with a storied past, but it’s a time-honored tradition of bridge jumping that really makes it special. The custom dates back to when the bridge was originally built in the 16th century and continues today. Watch this video by DGA Productions to learn about the bridge’s incredible background.