Roadside America: Long Island Wine Country

by Jessica Festa on

While Manhattan has endless offerings for the curious traveler, the honking cabs and incessant chaos of the city can leave you needing a break from your vacation. For a laid-back day trip, head to eastern Long Island and explore their expansive wine country.

Getting There

From Manhattan, you can take a train from Penn Station to Ronkonkoma and then transfer for the train to Mattituck. Just be sure to check the schedule, as the train to Mattituck only runs a few times per day. You can also take the Hampton Jitney on the North Fork Line, with the best stops to get off being Mattituck, Cutchogue and Peconic. The wineries are close together, so you can technically walk from one to the other, although better options would be to take a taxi, bike, tour or car. Renting a car is a smart option as the trail is quite easy to follow, with most of the wineries being on Sound Avenue and Route 25. Your best bet, however, is booking a tour as it will allow you to have a designated driver. Some reputable companies include North Fork Wine Tours, Elegant Wine Tours of L.I., Long Island Wine Tours and North Fork Trolley Co.About The North Fork

Coming from Manhattan, you’ll be immersed in a completely new world as you pass farm stands, corn fields, rustic shops and bakeries that look more like homes than stores. As you can see from this map of Long Island Wine Country, there are numerous wineries, vineyards and farms to choose from. The region offers 3,000 acres of vineyards and over 50 wine producers, with a majority of Long Island’s wineries being on the North Fork. Because of its maritime climate, glacial soils and moderate rainfall during the growing season, the area boasts high-quality wine production, especially when it comes to Chardonnay and Merlot.

Where To Visit

Each winery offers something unique, whether it be the ambiance, offerings or way of producing wine. For a small fee, you’ll be able to sample various varietals and ask questions at each space, and can often tour the vineyard, enjoy live music and partake in onsite events. My personal favorite winery in the region is Pindar, the most popular winery on Long Island and for good reason. Their wines are made sustainably using power from a 156-foot tall wind turbine, and their Winter White, an off-dry blend of Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, and Cayuga, is supposedly the most sold wine on Long Island. Other top wineries to visit include:

  • Bedell Cellars– This 30-year-old sustainably farmed estate vineyard and winery is family-owned and housed in a renovated potato barn from 1919. You’ll sample wines from some of the oldest vines in the region on an outdoor tasting pavilion with expansive views of open farmland.
  • Harbes Farm and Vineyard– This place has an extremely friendly staff, and the tasting rooms are housed in two cozy barns, Cherry Barn and Wine Barn. Also on the property is a large farm stand, apple picking, U-Pick pumpkins, a 6-acre corn maze, pedal carts, farm animals, pony rides and more.
  • Vineyard 48– While many vineyards offer live music and relaxing picnic areas, Vineyard 48 is well known for featuring live DJs every Saturday and Sunday. Not only do they have award-winning wines, but it’s also a great place for dancing and a more lively atmosphere.

[Flickr image via jiashiang]

Train In Vain: Four Days With A Pair Of Uzbek Prostitutes, Part Four

by Gadling Staff on

Read parts one, two and three of this story.

Day Four

I woke up in a sweat and was told by Marina that we had crossed into Turkmenistan, a country I had no transit visa for. The compartment was a white-hot crucible of heat that was exacerbated by the fact that none of the windows would open.

The train stopped at a dusty little outpost and the conductor, Ermat, already drunk at 10 a.m., came by with a hammer and began smashing out an entire large windowpane. I stepped out onto the platform to take some pictures of the train for posterity and was immediately accosted by a soldier. Marina rushed over and interpreted for me.

“He says you took a picture in a military area – you must give your film,” she said.”But all my pictures of this train trip are on this roll,” I said. “And I just took a shot of the train, not a military area. Tell him I’m keeping it.”

“Dayveed, please give it to him – you will be in trouble!” Marina protested.

Noticing that some kind of brouhaha was taking place, a crowd began to form behind me. After 70-some odd hours on the train I was in a foul mood, and almost didn’t care what happened to me. A small entourage formed behind me as I was asked to follow the soldier into an office in the station.

“Marina, tell him we don’t have time for this, our train could leave,” I protested.

“Just give him the film and we can go,” she pleaded.

“I am NOT giving him my film!” I insisted.

We were led into a large room where four other soldiers stood around below a framed photo of Turkmenbashi, the country’s mad dictator, who named days of the week and months after he and his mother, and banned opera, ballet and the circus, among other things.

After I refused once more to cough up my film they asked to see my visa for Turkmenistan. I handed them my passport and pointed out my Uzbek visa as well as my ornamental Kazakh one. It seemed logical at the time, but was probably akin to a Guatemalan showing up at Kennedy Airport with Mexican and Canadian visas and demanding to be let in.

“Day-VEED,” Marina said with a greater tone of urgency. “They say you must give them the film or you cannot leave!”

I opened up my camera and pulled out my film, stretching the whole roll in a highly theatrical manner and then spiked it down into a garbage can at one of the soldier’s feet and stormed away leaving the circle of onlookers shocked and speechless.

I stalked out of the office and back towards the train half expecting to be clubbed from behind, or placed into a gulag, but nothing happened. As I sat in my compartment a few witnesses came in and just looked at me as though I were a mental patient, and I began to think that perhaps I would be if we didn’t get to Bukhara soon.

A very well dressed young man who turned out to have been from Tajikistan approached me, and said, in flawless English, “I think you just did a very foolish thing. You have to realize where you are and be more careful. These people will put you in jail – they don’t care if you are American.”

A few hours later, our train passed across the Uzbek border and a couple of moneychangers began working the train. Marina explained that if I changed money at a bank I’d get only 200 Uzbek Som to the dollar, compared to 700 or more with a moneychanger. The rub was that the largest denomination was a 200-som note, so if you wanted to change $100 on the black market, you’d have to be ready to carry a huge bundle of notes. Changing money on the black market was technically illegal, so one needed to be discreet and have a big bag to carry the notes in.

An hour after my neighbors tricked me into believing that we’d arrived in Bukhara, we did in fact pull into the station, but I didn’t believe them until I actually saw Marina alight onto the platform. Aliya and Dima, who seemed like a married couple by this point in the trip, still had several hours to go until Tashkent, but joined us out on the platform to see us off.

I felt utterly exhausted, like some starving, island castaway who’d just been rescued. We had boarded the train on Monday at 11:30 a.m. and it was 3:40 p.m. on Thursday as we arrived in Bukhara. We had spent almost a full workweek on board.

I wasn’t sure whether Marina was going to share a cab with me into town or if she didn’t ever want to see me again. Dima and Aliya hugged me goodbye, and I felt like I’d miss them. I hardly knew them, but I felt as though we’d been through a terrible ordeal together. Aliya, who had the top button of her Al Pacino Couture jeans unbuttoned, Al Bundy style, said, “Dayveed, can you fax me a visa to America?”

“Fax you a visa?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, I want to come to America – Cal-eee-forn-ya.”

This is a five part series that will run in installments this week. Check back tomorrow for the final part of this story.

Read part one, two and three.

Click here for the final part to this story.

[Photos by peretzp and David Stanley on Flickr]

Video Of The Day: TJ Elevator Fan At Hampton Hotels

by Elizabeth Seward on

I’m not usually impressed by corporate videos, but sometimes a corporation gets behind a story in a video that is unshakably touching. When I caught wind of this video made by the Hampton Hotels’ Asheville branch, I wanted to check it out for myself. Featuring a boy named TJ who is better known as TJ Elevator Fan, this hotel went above and beyond to make TJ feel welcome when he visited their location. TJ has Cerebral Palsy, so everyday situations aren’t always as easy for him as they would be for you or me, but this Asheville hotel went way out of their way to make sure TJ’s stay was as easy and special as possible. Check it out.

10 Ways To Experience Bizarre Natural Phenomena

by Jessica Festa on




To experience something out of the ordinary on your next trip, check out some of these bizarre natural phenomena.

Morning Glory Cloud, Gulf of Carpentaria, Australia

While you can occasionally see a Morning Glory Cloud or roll cloud in other parts of the world, the Gulf of Carpentaria in northern Australia is the only place it can be predicted and observed regularly. A Morning Glory Cloud can be up to 620 miles long, 1.2 miles high and is often only 330 to 660 feet off the ground. Additionally these clouds, which sometimes appear both solo and in groups, can move at speeds up to 37 miles per hour. While this phenomenon is not clearly understood, certain theories do exist, such as effects from mesoscale circulations linked with sea breezes that develop over the area and high humidly and pressure mixed with strong breezes. You can visit Buketown in Queensland for the best chance of witnessing the phenomenon.Experience The Phenomenon Of “Mystery Spots” In Mooresville, Indiana

For those who’ve never heard of mystery spots, there are areas all over the country that defy the laws of nature and physics. Water may flow up an incline, people are able to stand on walls and balls roll uphill. The most famous mystery spot is located in Santa Cruz, California, although many are skeptical of the authenticity of this pay-to-see attraction. To experience the phenomenon in nature, you can head to Mooresville, Indiana. Here you’ll find Gravity Hill, an unmarked hill that pulls your car upward instead of down. You can put your car in neutral and see what happens to test the mystery spot out for yourself. To get there, you’ll get off at Exit 59 from I-70. You’ll drive about a mile heading south before turning left onto Keller Hill Road. Head east about 4.5 miles until it ends, and near here is where you’ll find Gravity Hill.

Some other known mystery spots are located in Spook Hill, Florida, Marblehead, Ohio, Gold Hill, Oregon and Franklin Lakes, New Jersey.




Aurora Borealis (The Northern Lights), Near North Pole

Aurora Borealis, or the northern lights, may be the most well known natural phenomenon that exists. This astronomical curiosity features shafts, swirls, arcs, rays and curtains of vibrant colors on the night sky, putting on an awe-inspiring neon light show. What you’re really seeing is the colliding of electrically charged particles from the sun as they enter the Earth’s atmosphere. This occurs over the North Pole and South Pole.

While technically it’s possible to see the northern lights anywhere, it’s best to view them from areas closer to the poles, like northwest Canada, Alaska, Iceland, northern Scandanavia and northern Norway. Visit between the autumn equinox and spring equinox, or September 21 to March 21. It is also said that 2013 will be a peak year to view the lights.

Mosquito Bay, Vieques, Puerto Rico

While there are a few instances of bioluminescent bays around the world, this one is the brightest one recorded by the Guinness Book Of World Records. Listed as a national natural landmark, the bizarre site glows a bright neon blue due to Pyrodinium bahamense, Dinoflagellates (dinos), living in the water. When these “dinos” touch another organism or are shaken they produce the burst of bright blue light that makes the water glow. Travelers have the opportunity to not just look at the bizarre bay, but also snorkel and kayak the waters.




Dead Sea, Jordan/Israel

Along the Jordan and Israeli borders you’ll find the Dead Sea. At 1,388 feet below sea level, its surface and shores are the Earth’s lowest elevation on land. The sea itself is 1,237 feet deep, making it the planet’s deepest hypersaline lake. What’s really amazing about this body of water, however, is how it allows people to effortlessly float, as shown above, due to the high salt content. Moreover, the salt and minerals from this water specifically provide a plethora of health benefits, like helping with arthritis, allergies, skin aging and psoriasis.

Spooklights, Various Locations

Spooklights are bizarre visual phenomena that are often mistaken for ghosts and UFOs. Most sightings happen at night, when people see globes of light in all colors, shapes and sizes. Some explanations for the occurrence include headlights, swamp gas, electrical discharges from tectonic forces, ghosts, aliens and hallucinations. Generally, the word spooklight refers to a bizarre case that occurred just west of Hornet, Missouri in an area known as “Devil’s Promenade.” However the phenomena, also known as Ghostlights and Earth Lights, can now be experienced regularly in certain areas all over the world, for example: the Paulding Light in Watersmeet Michigan, Mafra Lights in Marfa, Texas, St. Louis Spooklight in Saskatchewan, Canada, and the Min Min Lights in Australia.




Sailing Stones, Death Valley, California

Located around Racetrack Playa in Death Valley you can find sailing stones, also known as moving rocks or sliding rocks. These names refer to a geological phenomenon where rocks move without any help from animals or humans along a level surface. The reason as to why this happens is still undecided, but trails left by the stones differ in direction and length, and even texture and design. Because the stones only move every two to three years, it may be hard to see one in action; however, you’ll be able to admire the natural sand art formed by this unusual phenomenon.

Naga Fireballs, Mekong River, Thailand/Laos

The Naga Fireballs is a phenomenon that has been occurring on the Mekong River in Southeast Asia for centuries. Most notably around the time when the Buddhist rains end in October, glowing balls of differing shapes and sizes rise up from the water and disappear. Some are just a few sparks while others are the size of basketballs. While the Mekong gets the most attention for the bizarre occurrence, other bodies of water near Phon Phisai town also experience naga fireballs. There are certain theories behind the phenomenon, like methane gas buildup, surface electricity discharging into a solution and even that the entire thing is a hoax caused by tracer fire from soldiers. If you ask a local villager, they’ll most likely tell you it’s Naga, the mythical snake living in the river. At this time, however, nothing has been proven.




Foxfire, Forests Around The World

Despite its name, foxfire is not hot, nor fire. Notes on this natural phenomenon have been documented since the times of Aristotle, who talked about a light that was cold to the touch. Foxfire is a bioluminescent fungus that sometimes appears on moist, decaying wood, occurring during wet seasons all over the world. For your best chance of seeing it for yourself, get away from any artificial light sources.

Rain Of Fish, Yoro, Honduras

Apparently, it really can rain animals. Each year around the first major rainfall in May through June, still-living fish pour down from the heavens onto one department in Honduras. The phenomenon is said to have been happening since the 1800s, and today is known as Festival de la Lluvia de Peces, or Festival of the Rain of Fishes, complete with a parade and carnival. While scientists are still unsure as to why this happens, certain explanations do exist. Some believe strong winds pick up the fish from the Atlantic and shower them down over Yoro, while others think heavy rains wash the fish up out of their natural habitat and leave them on land. Others cite back to Father Jose Manuel Subirana, a Catholic priest who visited Honduras in the mid-1800s, who prayed to God to feed the hungry people of the area and was granted a sustainable gift.

[Images via Mick Petroff, Shutterstock, Shutterstock, PD Photo.org, Cas Liber]

Vagabond Tales: The Rewarding Adventures Of ‘Genealogy Tourism’

by Kyle Ellison on

The house pictured above is a very drab house. It’s cold. It’s empty. And no one has lived in it for over 120 years.

Sure, there is a fresh layer of green paint on the door, but that was put there by the neighbors. Why they did that I’m not sure, because this house was abandoned long ago.

This house isn’t anything famous, and it isn’t in a town you’ve ever heard of. This house is in Lecanvy, Ireland, a one-pub village at the base of Croagh Patrick Mountain, 3 1/2 hours from the festive streets of Dublin.

Nevertheless, this house is very important to me, because this was my great-great-grandmother’s house, a woman who’s family one day just decided to leave it all behind and up and leave for America.

Perhaps it’s the rise in popularity of websites such as ancestry.com, but for some reason “genealogy tourism” seems to be on the rise in the world’s most famous “nation of immigrants,” the United States of America. Despite the fact that millions of families took the plunge to move to a foreign land, their children many years down the road have not relinquished the curiosity to learn more about where it is they came from.

I hunted down this house because I happened to be in town, but for many travelers this form of “reverse immigration” seems to be a sector of the travel market that’s broadening in scope.During a recent business breakfast in Hawaii, the conversation – as it frequently does with travel writers – turned to the topic of international exploits. The associate with whom I was sharing eggs and potatoes then decided to regale me with a tale from her recent trip to Sicily.

“I went there,” she explained, “to search for my family. I knew the town they were from, I hoped that some remained, but I had no contacts and really was just hoping for the best.”

Quaffing deeply from a heavily-sugared coffee you could tell from her raised eyebrows that the best part of the story was yet to come.

“For four days I had no luck. Then, on the fifth day, walking through the downtown square I saw a woman who may as well have been my twin. She noticed it too, apparently, as we awkwardly stopped to simply stare at each other. Between her basic English and my poor Italian, we nevertheless determined that she was my second cousin. Word went out amongst her Italian family, and the next weekend we had a gathering of over 50 family members who came from all corners of the country to meet their new family member. It brought me to tears.”

While the Hollywood-script is pulled straight from a Lifetime movie, by virtue of her testimony I guess scenes like this really do happen. Or, on a more commonplace family hunt, what can also happen is you find yourself creeping through an abandoned driveway in the rural hamlets of western Ireland, shivering and wet and failing to encounter any family members at all because they all up and left over a century ago – not exactly as rewarding.

Still, to be able to travel to a foreign land and peer into the history of yourself is a feeling far more rewarding than sharing a famous sight with hundreds of other tourists. Having found this old house (with help from my genealogy-loving aunt), even experiencing this cold moment in the driveway was good enough for me.

That was, until, I knocked on the door of Mr. O’Malley.

Although the occupants of my family’s house – the McEntee’s – had obviously picked up and left some time ago, the manicured lawn of their neighbor, Mr. O’Malley, was evidence that some had opted to stay right here in Ireland.

Going for broke, I figured that if anyone would know anything about the details of my Irish family I figured it may as well be the neighbors. I opened the creaky gate, inhaled deeply, and eventually I rapped three times on the bright red door.

No answer.

Damn.

Just as I turned to leave it all behind, the bright red door creaked slowly open to the warmth of a cheery old man.

“Allo!” came the Irish brogue, “are ya lost?”

“Umm, no. Actually … this is really strange, but I think my family used to live right next door to you.”

With a pair of squinty eyes and sporting a classic brown cardigan, Mr. O’Malley was wracked with confusion. Who is this weirdly-accented stranger standing on my lawn?

“McEntee was their name” I offered. “Name was McEntee.”

With a delayed flip of the switch an air of recognition coasted across the wrinkles of his face.

“Ah yes,” he stammered. “McEntee.”

“So you know them?” chimed in my sister, a red-haired, fair-skinned, reverse immigrant herself who now lives in the suburbs of Dublin.

“No,” he confided. “I don’t. But when I was a boy in this same house me grandfather told me of the McEntee family who up and left for America. Sailed from the old dock down by the Westport harbor they did. Come inside, let’s make some tea.”

And so it was. I never got to bump into a long lost family member, but I somehow found myself looking at old photographs in the living of room of Mr. O’Malley’s home, a cup of warm tea staving off the chill from the damp outdoors.

We later would stop near Westport harbor, imaging what it would have been like to leave your simple plot of land in Lecanvy behind, sailing westward into the setting sun towards a place you knew otherwise so little about.

Sometimes we travel to learn more about the world, and other times simply to learn more about ourselves. In this case it’s to learn about exactly where we come from, and to walk in the upper branches of the extended family tree.

Have you ever engaged in any genealogy tourism, and if so, were there any great tales of discovery to be told?

Want more travel stories? Read the rest of the “Vagabond Tales” over here.