Shakespeare in the Park: It’s Free

by Jamie Rhein on

One of my most favorite experiences in New York City was when my brother and I went to a Shakespeare in the Park production of “Pirates of Penzance.” We packed a picnic lunch and headed to Central Park to stake out our spot in line for our free tickets. Yes, free. It’s stunning to think of it. Kevin Kline and Linda Ronstadt played the leads. Yes, yes, this was eons ago, but the thing is, Shakespeare in the Park is still free. The process for getting tickets is streamlined it seems, but it still takes a bit of work and planning ahead.

Here’s how to get them. Even though the Delcorte Theater starts passing out tickets at 1 p.m. on the day of the show and the Public Theater passes them out between 1 and 3 p.m. I’d get there earlier than that. That’s what we did when we brought our picnic. We went about 11:00. [The photo of the line posted on Flickr by petitsoeur on July 5 says underneath it “even the early birds don’t score a ticket. . .”] Maybe these days you need to get there even earlier. The crowd can be interesting so waiting around can be an experience on its own. The Shakespeare in the Park folks monitor the lines starting at 10 a.m.

The good thing is, since the tickets are given out only on the day of the show, this is an equal opportunity venture. No one gets to call ahead or have someone save them a spot. Also, each person can only get two tickets so no one can hoard. I like that.

If you’re planning on being in New York City anytime between August 7 and September 9, put this on your to do list. This is when the next play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is being performed.

Eco-tourism in Laos

by Martha Edwards on

According to the Lonely Planet, tourism in Laos is set to soar to all-time highs. I suspect this has to do with the popularity of Thailand as a tourist destination, as people tend to reason that if they’re going all that way they should do the whole shebang. I don’t know if anyone travels across the ocean for the sole purpose of visiting Laos, but it sure is worthy of it’s own trip — which you already know, if you’ve ever been there.

Jungle treks in particular are expected to flourish, which gives some valuable income to to the country and its people — hopefully it keeps the forest from being levelled as well. The Laotian government has shown it’s commitment to Eco-tourism, so let’s hope they stand by their word.
Laos is truly unique place — rugged and undeveloped, friendly and peaceful, full of beauty, both urban and natural. It’s a world away from the bright lights of Bangkok. When I first arrived in Laos, I was amazed by so much, but what stands out is the lack of streetlights in towns (or paved roads for that matter.) We left the Indian restaurant at 9, a full two hours before the country-wide curfew, and hardly found our way back to the guesthouse because of the darkness. I was a city girl who hadn’t realized that the world got that dark at night. I wonder if it will stay like that? I hope so. We all need little reminders like that.

Another Texas Ranch You Can Visit: Part Two

by Jamie Rhein on

Like the Selah, Bamberger Ranch Preserve, the The Benini Foundation Galleries and Sculpture Ranch is another reason to head to Texas. Both ranches [along with Reimer’s Ranch Park ] were written about in the issue of National Geographic Traveler I browsed through when I was visiting my husband’s parents.

Both the Banberger Ranch and the Benini Ranch caught my attention because they capture the passions of the people who own them. I’m always interested to go to places where people use the land they love to promote a cause they hold dear. Or maybe it’s just to be surrounded by people who have a passion that makes some places worth the drive to get to them.

The way I see it, the Benini Ranch is to the preservation of art like the Bamberger Ranch is to the preservation of the Scimitar-horned Oryx . If you browse the ranch’s Web site, you’ll notice the array of striking sculptures across the top. They are by various artists whose work has been accepted to be on exhibit. According to the Web site details, an artist agrees to let his or her work be displayed for two years. This means that you can visit the ranch over and over and see different pieces as some come and go. Instead of a museum gallery enclosed by walls–or a sculpture garden outside a building–the scultures are showcased in the great outdoors. Texas has plenty of great outdoors. If you’ve even driven across it, you’ll know what I mean. The area where this ranch is located is lovely. I remember being so surprised by the lushness of the landscape when I drove between Austin and San Antonio.

If you do want to go here, click here for directions and information. And, by the way, thanks to National Geographic Traveler for pointing me in the direction of Texas again. I have friends in both San Antonio and Austin. These ranches give me even more incentive to head that way–and to make sure that my friends have an idea of where to head when they are looking for a place to take visitors.

The Best U.S. Cities for Singles

by Justin Glow on

You may recognize this “Singles” map from the February 2007 issue of National Geographic. It ranks the number of single women versus the number of single men in metropolitan areas, and you may be surprised at some of the results.

Girls, looking to travel to a bachelor-heavy area? The Los Angeles-Long Beach-Santa Ana metro area, for instance, has the highest population of single males, with 40,000 more than single women. On the flip side, guys, the New York-Newark urban area has 185,000 more single women than men.

What I find particularly interesting is Texas. Dallas, Austin, and Houston all have more single men than women, while San Antonio has more single women. With the influx of military personnel in San Antonio, I would have figured the opposite.

A Canadian in Beijing: Reverse Culture Shock

by Ember Swift on

(This will be my last blog for this travel series. See the end of this blog for where to read my blogs in the future.)

I have been back in Canada for just a few days and the music touring has launched in full force. Only two full days at home after three months away is not enough to recover and balance the reverse culture shock – a legitimate phenomenon that I can personally attest to – and even though I am ultimately responsible for deciding my fate, I’m currently shaking my head at my scheduling insanity.

I’m writing this from the Vancouver International airport where I am waiting for our transfer flight to Castlegar, BC where we will be performing at a Peace & Justice Festival called “On Our Way Home Reunion.” We will only be there for less than twelve hours, however, because we are expected in Illinois the next day at the National Women’s Music Festival and no connecting flights would get us there in time. That means that we have to drive all night back to Vancouver (about six hours directly following our performance) in order catch a morning flight to Chicago. This flight will then transfer to Bloomington, IN where we will arrive tomorrow at approximately three p.m. central time to be picked up and driven to Normal, IL. We perform tomorrow night and then drive back to Toronto on Sunday (about 11 hours) and then back to my home in the country on Monday (5 hours).

I am the one who approves or declines performance offers. The main problem is that I do this at least six months in advance of the actual travel time and I often imagine myself capable of anything when it’s so far away! So, here I am wondering what poison I was smoking when I decided that this was a good idea.

I am already exhausted from the twelve-hour, China-Canada jet lag not to mention the emotional adjustment to leaving Beijing and returning to my life here in Canada. Top that off with an early morning of five a.m. to catch my first flight out of Toronto and I’m wondering how we will ever make it back to Vancouver tonight without copious amounts of caffeine and some serious injections of good humour?

And people ask us how we stay healthy on the road…

My answer is usually “by staying home.”

On the flight over here from Ontario, I opened the in-flight magazine and flipped directly to a picture of the entrance to the Forbidden City and Chairman Mao’s face (top image). My heart nearly stopped when it fell open to that picture. That image feels so far away and here it was, staring at me from the pages of a magazine, smooth under my fingertips.

Just outside the bathrooms in this spacious waiting area in the Vancouver Domestic Airport (I actually miss the squatters!) are the computers that list the flights. I was walking briskly towards relief and then almost tripped over the friction that suddenly gripped my sneakers to the carpet and stopped me dead in my tracks. It was as though my feet read the screen before I did.

Beijing flight. 12:30pm. Air Canada #29.

My stomach, already heavy from the food I’m not used to – french fries and salad and a veggie burger that had too much relish and mustard on it were all squishing in my now non-western stomach – felt like it was going to lose my whole lunch. I’ve been feeling that way for the past two days, actually. I was convinced that it was the kind of wheat that I’ve been eating and I vowed to avoid wheat today. My burger was without the bun, but the nausea persists. And then, just the sight of the word “Beijing” and I felt sure I was going to wretch.

On the plane, I could hear a couple a few rows up speaking Mandarin and I was craving that perfect moment to interrupt, to pass them by and say something – anything – to have just to have another conversation in this beautiful language. I have felt like part of my ears have been plugged since I arrived home because all I can hear is English and French. Where’s the song of Mandarin? Where’s that language that has become like a friend, like music lilting through my head, like the perfect companion for my brain as it’s constantly challenging me, pushing me, waking me up and forcing me to think. There’s something so dull about English and French. Hearing just these languages (and mostly English) just awakes more of the despair at being separated from Mandarin.

For instance, as I was speaking French with my friend from Quebec two nights ago, I felt more and more sad. The words in Mandarin kept coming to me first and I had to translate them into the French words. It just feels like Mandarin is trying to come out and I was keeping it locked up inside, against its will but for its own good, of course.

Because no one understands here.

What a stupid thing to think while sitting in Vancouver, BC! Of all the cities to write that sentence in, this is not one of them. There is a huge Chinese population here…

Only, they’re not sitting across from me in this little café, or sitting beside me on the plane, or standing behind the counters at the cafes waiting for my order. At least, not on this particular path that I’m on towards Castlegar in the interior of this province (here’s a picture of the tiny plane we took to get there) and the festivals that will fill my weekend with music and other challenges.

I’m clearly flipping between stability and complete meltdown here. Half of my sentences are crying out and the other half are quietly comforting. The overall truth is somewhere in the middle. On the outside, I’m going to be fine. Maybe a little tired, but fine. On the inside, I’m going to be sad. Maybe a little happy too, but sad.

There is such loss and such gain. I have returned to my amazing life: my loved ones, my home, my music, the stage, my band… and I have lost my beloved China (until I return) and Mandarin (until I build more contacts here to keep it alive in my mouth until I return to China) and, last but not least, contact with the loved ones that I had to leave there.

To all of my friends in China: I miss you already. Save me a su baozi for my return.

And to my stomach: get it together. You’re home and you’d better start digesting this food! Head down, and forge ahead.

Keep it down.

And to my overall self: reverse the reverse culture shock. There is no choice in the matter. Eventually, you must arrive home.

Wo lai le 我来了。I have arrived.

It’s okay.

*************

This blog will soon be located in its chronological order at a new location on Gadling entitled “On The Road.”

I will continue to blog for Gadling about my North American travel adventures (and beyond), so keep checking the www.gadling.go-vip.net site and just clicking on my name for new blogs. If there’s a new series, I’ll let you know via my own site‘s main news page, which is also the front page.

Thanks so much for reading this blog and for being so encouraging… and for reminding me that people far away cared enough to check in. I loved writing it and I’m thrilled that I’ll continue to blog for Gadling as I coast from coast to coast in between longterm adventures like this one in China. And, besides, I’ll be back in China before too long.

Of this, I am sure.