Travel Read: 100 Places Every Woman Should Go

I never knew there could be a book so thoughtful and inspiring for women as this one. Stephanie Elizondo Griest’s second travel book, which lists far more than just 100 Places Every Woman Should Go, is truly an encyclopedia for women travelers. It’s the kind of book that could never have existed fifty years ago, but is so refreshing that free-spirited, female travelers should feel grateful that it exists now, and fully prepared for that next trip into the wide, wonderful world.

Griest’s great book is packed with helpful historical information, inspiring stories, and travel tips. It’s broken up into nine sections — my favorite being the first: “Powerful Women and Their Places in History.” There’s so much worth digesting in each locale described. For instance, I had no idea that the word “lesbian” came from the birthplace of Sappho (Lesbos, Greece). Griest fills each description with great travel tips that often include specific street addresses for particularly noteworthy sights.What I like most about the 100 places she chooses is that she shies away from identifying places that every woman obviously dreams of traveling to, like Venice, Rome, and Paris. Instead, she paves a new path for women, encouraging us to visit Japan’s 88 sacred temples or stroll through the public squares of Samarkand, one of the world’s oldest cities in Uzbekistan.

Griest does not limit her list to concrete or singular places. Sometimes, she finds a way to take us to virtual spots like the Museum of Menstruation or creates lists like “Best Bungee Jumping Locales,” “Sexiest Lingerie Shops,” or “Places to Pet Fuzzy Animals.” These 100 “places” are really all-encompassing, and Griest manages to take us on an imaginative journey around the world, packing all her feminine know-how into each description.

I did find, occasionally, that there were some places missing from some of the identified places in her list. For instance, I was baffled as to why two Russian writers were on Griest’s list of “Famous Women Writers and Their Creative Nooks,” but Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, and Jane Austen were absent. I was additionally confused that cooking classes in India and Thailand were not on the list of “Culinary Class Destinations.”

Griest’s opinions of places are somewhat biased, too. While she does a fairly good job covering the globe, a single locale in French Polynesia or the South Pacific is missing, and some places like Oaxaca, Angkor Wat, and New York are mentioned several times. Her college town of Austin landed on the list, but places like Budapest and Cairo are never acknowledged.

With every list, however, there is bound to be some bias and some personal flair and choice involved, and Griest’s original and creative sensibilities are still well-worth reading about. The great thing about this book is that you can flip to a place description, be perfectly entertained and inspired, and then tuck the book away until the next time you feel compelled to read about the places you can go. Or, you can read it in one sitting like I did and be completely blown away by the amazing places in this one world that it’s hard to imagine why we live in one city for so long and not just pack our bags and get out there and see some if not all of it.

Click here to read my review of Griest’s first travel book, “Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana.” My review of Griest’s third travel book, “Mexican Enough: My Life Between the Borderlines” is forthcoming, along with my interview with the author in early January. Feel free to jot me an email (Brenda DOT Yun AT weblogsinc DOT com) if you have a question for Stephanie.


Click the images to learn about the most unusual museums in the world — featuring everything from funeral customs, to penises, to velvet paintings, to stripping.


November is National Adoption Month and a traveler’s tale

Only today and tomorrow are left in National Adoption Month. If it weren’t for traveling, perhaps I wouldn’t have a reason to notice this detail. On my first trip to Vietnam with my husband back in the mid-90’s, we met two couples who were in the process of adopting a baby. One couple was French. I can’t remember where the other couple was from.

Every day they left the hotel where we were all staying to fill out paperwork–or take care of whatever details they had to finish in order to be able to take their babies out of Vietnam.

As a person who always wanted to adopt, there was a small seed planted the first time I saw the French mother lean over her baby and tuck a blanket around the sleeping form. My husband had the same seed start to grow as well.

Two years later, there we were heading to Vietnam again to see about finding our own child. This was a vague plan since we were living in Singapore at the time and weren’t quite sure what we were doing.

When we we first saw our daughter, it was the middle of December more than a dozen years ago. Seven months later, she became part of our family. Believe me, the story is a bit longer than that. Since that time we’ve been back to Vietnam many times and have had our world expand far more than we could have imagined.

Anyone who has spent time at an American or international school knows that ours is not an unusual story. Many people who live overseas adopt children. Perhaps this is because once families know several people who have adopted, adoption seems like a feasible endeavor. I don’t know if this is true, it’s just a thought.

The combinations of families I knew ranged from a single woman who adopted two children, to a family with several birth children who wanted to expand, to a couple with a high school-age son who was blessed with the addition of a young toddler-aged daughter. Each of these families were fantastic and the children have thrived. If it weren’t for my husband’s and my traveling ways, we wouldn’t have met any of them–and we wouldn’t have our own bundle of joy who is now 16. For any of you with teenagers, you know how that goes. Seriously, she’s a gem. Seriously. No, seriously.

For information about adoption, the National Adoption Center Web site might be a place to start.

Hanoi is water-logged

Heavens! Hanoi, one of my most favorite cities is braving through floods these days–the worst in more than twenty years. I’ve visited Hanoi on several occasions, but never in rains like this. I do recall slogging through Taipei in a downpour once and needing to wring out my socks in a restaurant sink, but Hanoi’s woes are far greater.

There are a few videos on YouTube that chronicle the floods, but I chose this one that was posted two days ago because of the personal narrative. It reminds me of that feeling of being soaked. Plus, the Hello Kitty umbrella the one guy is holding is so Asian.

According to the description, the flooding became worse after the video was taken. Here’s the New York Times article that gives details about the disaster. The article says that the flooding will continue to worsen through tomorrow. Parts of northern Vietnam are also being affected. I’ve e-mailed a good friend of ours who lives in Hanoi, not far from the old quarter but so far, have heard nothing back.

Catching the Travel Bug: Ho Chi Minh City, Viet Nam

Welcome to Catching the Travel Bug, Gadling’s mini-series on getting sick on the road, prevailing and loving travel throughout. Five of our bloggers will be telling their stories from around the globe for the next five weeks. Submit your best story about catching the travel bug in the comments and we’ll publish our favorite few at the end of the series.

SARS. The subject was worked into every conversation amongst the expats and long-term tourists in Vietnam. The government claimed that the virus had been contained in several northern provinces, far away from Sai Gon (Ho Chi Minh City to Communist Party officials and fresh-off-the-plane tourists). Still. There were rumors about people’s neighbors being taken away in the middle of the night to be quarantined because of a persistent cough. Mostly, that was just speculation, fueled by one too many beers or one too many years in country.

Nonetheless, when I came down with a cough and fever, I had thoughts of gasping for breath in a hidden away hospital ward guarded by CP officials who didn’t want their SARS secret to get out. I wrote my illness off as a regular flu bug I’d picked up from being in a classroom teaching eight-year-old Vietnamese kids how to speak English. When my chest started to tighten and my cough to turn into a wheeze, I started to worry a bit more.

I confided in my girlfriend who took me to a doctor who had an after-hours private practice in his home. I was assured that he spoke English. He spoke great Russian because he’d been schooled in Moscow, but only a bit of English (like “Injection” and “Infection”). Between my modest Vietnamese skills and miming and his pidgin of Russian, English, and charades, I was able to get started on an IV of antibiotics. But he wanted an x-ray to rule out the unspoken disease. He kept asking me if I had been up north, to the areas that were hit by SARS. I said no, but he casually slipped a surgical mask on before starting me on the IV.
I got into the x-ray at a hospital the next day. It took two hours in the waiting room, which was not the best experience. Radiology was located by a nurses’ station and there were several people on hospital beds just parked in the hallway. I found out from a smiling but nervous lady in a neighboring seat that they were on a death watch. The nurses could keep an eye on them until the end.

The x-ray technician was unfamiliar with practicing his trade on someone of my height. It took 5 tries to get it right. I paid him 150,000 dong ($10 US) to hand the pictures directly to me instead of putting them up with the others.

My next antibiotic session consisted of me and about 4 others, sitting in plastic lawn chairs in the doctor’s back room with drips hanging from hooks in the wall. One guy smoked the entire time, but no one said anything.

A few days later, I went through the x-ray ordeal again. This time a smiling technician got it right on the second try. Through my girlfriend the doctor said that he chalked it up to a chest infection.

“No SARS?” I asked.

“No SARS.” He chuckled, said something in Russian, and patted me on the shoulder.

Check out the past travel-bug features here.

Photo of the Day (09.16.08)

Vietnamese beaches, while not known as the best in the world, are still top notch. In the little time that I spent in South Vietnam, a small portion was on a beach in Mui Ne, just east of Saigon and home to a resident population of windsurfers. To me, the soft white sand, pleasant staff and uncrowded beaches make it preferrable to Cancun any day. Flickr user ourmanwhere shot it on the beach of Phu Quoc.

Have any cool photos you’d like to share with the world? Add them to the Gadling Pool on Flickr, and it might be chosen as our Photo of the Day.