Airbnb: Six awesome experiences

Last autumn, after having tracked the Airbnb buzz for a while, I finally took the plunge and reserved rooms through the site in Panama City and Bogotá for my two-stop December jaunt.

About a half-hour into my first pit stop, it was already clear to me that the service was a perfect fit for budget-conscious travelers. (For the record, I’m not the only Airbnb fan at Gadling. Check out my colleague Elizabeth Seward’s Airbnb post published earlier this year.)

For those unfamiliar with it, Airbnb is a rental service. House or apartment owners list their spare beds, rooms, or entire living spaces for rent on the site.

What makes Airbnb distinct? First of all, owners are paid 24 hours after the reservation begins, a delay that helps weed out dishonest landlords. Another important detail: if there is a problem with a rental, guests can contact Airbnb to void payment. I was comfortable with Airbnb from the outset in light of these consumer protection safeguards, and the fact that everyone is encouraged to evaluate one another following a stay was icing on the cake. Landlords can’t get away with false advertising, and poor behavior on the part of a guest or host will also be exposed through reviews. Good hosts and guests can both build up positive profiles via strong reviews.

Overall, Airbnb is pretty scamproof if used as directed. In a review of comments and criticisms of Airbnb online, it appears that some people have been scammed after making a payment on a rental outside of the Airbnb payment system. Payment via the Airbnb payment system, it should go without saying, is a much safer bet. Here’s a tiny piece of advice: If any property owner you contact through Airbnb urges you to bypass the Airbnb payment system and directly wire them money, cut off contact and report them.

Overnight, I became a fan of Airbnb. Seldom had I found such cheap accommodations in such comfortable surroundings, and with the added benefit of an instant social network of locals taking an interest in my welfare. I’ve experienced just two annoyances of the most minor sort: a host in Panama City who never messaged me back and a hostess in Tel Aviv whose room was not available despite being advertised as such.

But where did I stay? What were my accommodations like? And what did they cost?Panama City. In the Panamanian capital, I stayed in a high-rise in a wealthy neighborhood just down the street from the US Embassy. I had my own bright bedroom and a private bathroom. My host introduced me to some of his favorite restaurants and dined with me on two of my three nights in the city. An American expat, he was full of helpful tips and friendly asides. The damage: $72 per night.

Bogotá. I lucked out here, with a beautifully swank apartment near the center of the city (see above for a balcony-level photo of the street in front of the building.) My hosts were phenomenally kind. They served me breakfast, drove me around, gave me advice, and introduced me to their friends at elaborate dinner parties. It was here that I had the incredible experience of sampling homemade ajiaco, a delicious Colombian potato soup. The damage: $60 per night.

Amsterdam. I stayed in the funky neighborhood of De Pijp over the week of Christmas, first by myself for a night (sharing the space with my hosts) and then with my family for a week (by ourselves). De Pijp is an exciting, dynamic neighborhood. The apartment was beautiful if small and the only downside was its draftiness, particularly noticeable due to the frigid temps. The damage: $62 for a single room; $243 per person for seven nights for the entire unit.

Oslo. Before my February visit, I was terrified of Oslo’s price index, and justifiably so, as it turned out. What made Oslo affordable was my rental room, a quiet little space in an apartment about a kilometer from the train station. I shared kitchen and bathroom with the very friendly owner. The damage: $76 per night.

Tel Aviv. I stayed in the superhip neighborhood of Noga, next to Jaffa. My temporary studio, a factory conversion, had high ceilings and a pleasingly post-industrial decor. I had the entire studio to myself for two nights. On my final morning in Tel Aviv, my hosts showed up, chatted with me about a number of topics, and then drove me to the train station. The damage: $119 per night.

Jerusalem. I stayed in a hilly, residential part of West Jerusalem. I had a tiny apartment of my own, an annex to my hosts’ apartment, with a bathroom, a little kitchen, and access to a back garden. My hosts, long-term peace activists, were wonderful for conversation, information, and mid-morning coffee. The damage: $84 per night.

Airbnb has been in the news recently. Ashton Kutcher was announced as an investor and advisor in late May. Last week, it was revealed that contact salespeople working for Airbnb surreptitiously contacted property owners advertising on Craigslist to expand listings.

Frommer’s Jason Clampet dishes on top vacation destinations of 2011

Double take! Is that our good friend Jason Clampet over at Frommer‘s on the live telerobot? In fact it is! A senior editor over at Frommer’s, a slideshow and SEO wizard and an all around great guy, we spotted Mr. Clampet over on ABC news talking about top vacation destinations and tips for 2011. Could this be the beginning of travel punditry for Mr. Clampet and the Frommer’s squad? If so, we’re looking forward to it. Let us know what you think of the video below and how you think that travel world will be when we’re all subservient Clampites.


Hitting the Road in Chicago, a City of Reinvention

If the story of this road trip is the reinvention of America, Chicago makes for a fitting starting point. Burned to the ground in the 19th century, its skyline now bristles with architectural gems, including some of the tallest buildings in the country.

And while the economy here has diversified over the years, heavy industry and manufacturing still exist, whether its on the industrial corridor north of Goose Island, a greening stretch of Cermak Road or at the Ford Chicago Assembly Plant south of the city, where cars have been built since 1924.

To get a handle on the evolving city, I spoke with Micheline Maynard, the senior editor of Changing Gears, a 10-month-old multimedia journalism project involving three area public radio stations that aims to tell the stories of residents in the changing Great Lakes region. At the WBEZ 91.5 studios on Navy Pier, itself a rejuvenated bit of infrastructure that now bustles with tourists, Micheline told me about Chicago’s path to a diversified modern economy.

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“You visit Chicago now and you look at the beautiful parks and you look at the tall buildings-there’s a lot of money here-and it’s hard to remember that 100 to 150 years ago this was a city built on industry,” she told me. “The difference between [Cleveland, Detroit and Chicago] is that Chicago diversified. Chicago kind of saw decades ago that it couldn’t rely only on industry, and successive mayors Daley made an effort to have other kinds of businesses and other kinds of development.”

Micheline mentioned Millennium Park as an example, the blissful waterfront green space that’s probably best known as the home of Anish Kapoor’s Cloud Gate, the mirrored sculpture everyone calls The Bean. Opposed by many during construction, it’s now a major tourist attraction and a symbol of what sustained attention to long-term development can achieve, turning an underutilized public space into a bustling urban center.

Entrepreneurship was on view at Wrigley Field, too. I managed to catch the last half of Wednesday’s Cubs-Astros game from the upper reserved seats. My ticket was just $14 and the seat was great, on the first base side above the visitors dugout. (Never mind that my Cardinals fan of a father would be sorely disappointed I was attending a game at the home of the Redbirds’ regional rivals. Then again, the Cubs did lose, 3-1.)

But the seats that looked the most interesting weren’t even in the park. Apartment buildings near the stadium, along Sheffield and Waveland avenues, are topped with private bleachers that once sold seats for as much as $300 each. But business has been off, and fans can now get on the Wrigley Rooftops for as little as $99, still much more than $14 but a price that includes unlimited food and brews.

Creativity is also finding a place on Hubbard Street, a strip of decidedly average nightlife joints where a handful of local industry veterans have recently opened the lovely Hubbard Inn. With classic cocktails and a couple dozen beers on draft, it’s no doubt a drinking hall, but small plates-mushroom-topped flatbreads, steak tartare, grilled prawns-help keep everyone on the level. As one of the owners told Time Out Chicago about trying to do something new on Hubbard Street: “It’s not your kind of turn-and-burn vodka-tonic, Bud Light place.” It was a fitting location for our road trip kick-off party on Tuesday night.

Five trekking options for adventurers with bad backs

If you’ve got a bad back or neck–and many of us do–it can make certain aspects of travel challenging, especially if you’re otherwise healthy and active. Perhaps the most frustrating issue for adventure travelers such as myself is being limited to day hikes, unless there are overnight options that don’t involve humping a 50-pound-plus backpack into the wilderness.

I suffered a moderately severe back injury in 1994, which has been exacerbated over the years by my recreational/occupational pursuits and being a general spaz (a fall on ice led to months of physical therapy). While I travel with a 35-pound backpack, it’s always for relatively short distances. When it comes to trekking, I know my limit is about 10 pounds, in a daypack.

Yet I love few things more than backpacking and trekking. Over the years, I’ve found ways to circumvent my back issues, and in the process, have taken some truly mind-blowing trips (as well as excelled, physically). There are those who consider it cheating if you don’t carry your own gear, but I’m willing to bet they haven’t experienced the joys of a herniated disc, whiplash, or spinal stenosis. Ignore the naysayers, and look into these rewarding options. Happy trails!

Note: I don’t want to underplay the importance of being physically fit and well-conditioned for a trek. You need to be able to walk long distances, on often steep, difficult terrain at very high altitude (depending upon itinerary). Any reputable company will provide you with an outline on conditioning for your adventure. Please be honest (with yourself, and them) about your abilities.

Use a porter
Outfitters in many locales, such as the Inca Trail, the Himalayas, or Kilimanjaro rely on porters to haul gear; you’re responsible for your daypack (which may include weather-related gear). The altitude presents enough of a challenge for the average trekker, and porters are usually indigenous peoples who are genetically adapted to their harsh environment. There’s a reason Sherpas always accompany climbers on Everest and why the Quechua porters of the Andes are capable of sprinting uphill for miles, barefoot, with 100-pound loads on their backs.

%Gallery-125080%The first time I did a trip with porters, I was bothered by what I saw as a social injustice. But my Peruvian guide from Bio Bio Expeditions explained that there are strict guidelines in place (this may depend upon region, so please check with your outfitter or the local permitting office) about maximum weight loads. By employing the local people, porters receive a steady paycheck, supplemented by monetary tips from trekkers (please don’t overlook this; it’s part of their livelihood, and believe me, they earn it), and donated clothing items that go to their families.

Pack trips
While long days in the saddle can wreak havoc on tenderfoot thighs and butts, pack trips are the ideal way for the physically-compromised or older folks to explore remote wilderness regions, often at high altitude (day hikes are usually included during downtime; be sure to ask). Alternatively, if your back (or you) demand a bit more comfort at night, you can descend on muleback into the depths of the Grand Canyon, and stay in one of the Phantom Ranch’s rustic but comfy cabins; note that these trips book out at least a year in advance.

Bonus: Many outfitters now focus on food, so rest assured you won’t be eating freeze-dried beef Stroganoff. Other outfitters will teach you packing skills, such as how to tie a diamond-hitch and load a pack mule, or focus on fly-fishing, photography, or personalized trips, so look for the company that best suits your needs and interests. Tip: There’s no unified national packers association. Your best bet, says Dave Dohnel of California’s (very excellent) Frontier Pack Train, is to “ask for references–I always tell potential clients to call the regional office of the Forest Service. They’re the stewards of the land, so they’ll give you an unbiased opinion.” Also be sure to do some online research on the companies you’re considering.

Llama/goat packing
Having a furry friend haul your gear as you walk alongside is becoming more popular in the States. Llamas, of course, have been used as pack animals for hundreds of years in the Andes. They’re tough, have excellent footing, and are cute as the dickens, but they’re also tempermental. If you’d prefer to trek with an animal you can really bond with, goats are ideal, as they’re more dog-like and enjoy interacting with people.

There are only a handful of goat packers in the U.S. at this time, but it’s grown in popularity since it was pioneered in the 1980’s by former Forest Service employee John Mionczynski. A large goat can carry up to a quarter of its body weight with a pack frame, and their small hooves and grazing habits make them a lower impact option than horses or mules. The North American Packgoat Association (NAPgA) is for those who want to start packing with their own goats, but it’s still a great resource.

Destinations for both llama and goatpacking include the Rockies, Pacific Northwest, and Southwestern U.S.. There’s also the Pack Llama Festival in Silverton, Colorado, held September 22-25.

Day treks from a base camp
Many outfitters offer combination trips that enable experienced trekkers or climbers and beginners to travel together. Seattle-based Mountain Madness, historically a “hardcore” mountaineering outfitter, now offers a “Trek or Climb Program” that allows partners or families to enjoy the same trip–each participant has the option to climb or trek only, or a combo of the two–and reunite at a new base camp each night. For those with no experience wanting to get a “taste of climbing but not commit to it 100%,” this offers a great compromise. All trips include porters, so you only need to carry your daypack (they’ll even hire a porter to do that, if you’d like). Other companies, like Seattle’s Alpine Ascents, will hire porters to carry your gear on their international trips if you’re unable (they suggest you be able to handle a 50-pound pack).

For my first mountaineering attempt, I did a Mountain Madness trip to Ecuador’s Cotopaxi, the world’s highest active volcano (19,347 feet). Because we had to spend the night at a refugio located just above 15,000 feet in the acclimatization zone, it meant I only required a day pack for the ascent (which was unfortunately thwarted at 17,000 feet due to avalanche danger). But the point is, you can have the best of both worlds, bad back or not. And I still had a great time and felt I’d made a massive achievement.

Specialty trips
Mountain Madness also offers a Mt. Baker “Slow Boat” beginner summit climb in the Cascades (FYI, a lot of outfitters are based in Seattle, an outdoor industry Mecca). This is a four-day trek–usually, it’s done in three–created specifically for those who need a little more time for whatever reason (you still need to be able to carry 35 pounds). Ask outfitters what options they offer if you have limitations; many companies will create personalized itineraries for two or more clients.

Have back problems and a trek or outfitter you want to rave about? Let us know!

[Photo credits: pack train, Flickr user Mouldy17; all other photos, Laurel Miller]

The anatomy of Expedia’s Best Rate Guarantee failure

Shortly into my third week in the battle to get over $1000 refunded by Expedia‘s Best Rate Guarantee program, despair sets in. The thin, smooth glass on the surface of my smartphone is caked with layers of sweat and the anytime and rollover weekend minutes that I once cherished are now memories long lost. I’ve started telling the agents in the call center which options they need to be choosing on their local screens before they ask and preparing for long waits, taking 20 minutes here and there to leave my phone at my desk and go for a stroll or get a sandwich. It finally occurs to me that perhaps this is part of Expedia’s strategy: frustrate the users so much, make them so physically angry and emotionally drained that they give up the fight for their refunds and just give up in disgust.

This is now how the Best Rate Guarantee program should work. A feature used by many Online Travel Agencies (OTAs), a Best Rate Guarantee is a tool that creates equilibrium in the travel pricing market. Say, for example, you run a search on your favorite airline website and find an itinerary that costs $500 in a certain fare bucket at a certain time. If you find that exact same ticket for a higher price on Expedia, all that you need to do is book the higher ticket, call their agents and ask to be refunded the amount of the difference. As a reward, Expedia also offers a $50 coupon for later travel. The refund, on the other hand, should be issued within 5-7 days. In theory.
It’s the OTA’s way of keeping your loyalty. If they can convince you to habitually book on their website then they can reap the reward of your business down the line.

In my case, however, that system broke down. After verifying a fare difference of $1292.79 between an Air Canada ticket booked via Vayama and that which was booked on Expedia, I got approval for a refund and a transaction number from an overseas agent. My refund was slated to be returned shortly.

With no credit a week later I started to worry. Following up to @Expedia on Twitter, I sent a direct message to inquire about the refund. In a stoic response, Expedia’s Twitter team responded that a top tier agent was looking into the issue. Nudging the team again two days later and then again five days after that, I was first promised that the issue was being addressed and then obtusely asked for my itinerary number — as if the issue had been lost and restarted again.

Frustrated, three weeks after the initial purchase and BRG authorization I returned back to the phone agents, who after 90 minutes on the phone could only conclude that the refund was on its way. An email arrived in parallel: a refund had been authorized — but to the wrong card in my account — that of a colleague’s. And the refund wasn’t for $1292.79 but rather $1143.43, almost $150 less than the original amount. How had this happened?

Back on the phone for two hours with customer service over Memorial Day weekend, a few answers came into the limelight. The discrepancy in refund was due to the fact that the BRG only can be applied to the base fare. Any taxes and fees incurred after the base fare as charged by the OTA don’t count, suggesting that Expedia tacks on an addition $150 of superfluous fees that Vayama does not.

But what about the refund? Neither my colleague nor myself have seen a refund on either card, now 25 days after the BRG authorization.

For my part, I vow to continue the fight, even if I have to walk to the Expedia’s corporate offices, knock on the front door and bring milk and cookies. But for the $50 coupon (and the higher booking fees in the future), this program is no longer worth it.

[flickr image via Don Hankins]