Global GPS Guide

You know how sometimes you make ambitious travel plans and the trip turns out to be even more delightful than you ever dreamed possible? Every adventure you anticipated lives up to your expectations, everything you didn't anticipate turns out to be even better, and the weather is picture perfect from start to finish? This isn't a story about one of those trips. It begins like this: My boyfriend and I were supposed to go on an eight-day bike trek from Salzburg to Prague organized by Top Bicycle, a Czech company that specializes in self-guided itineraries. We'd be relying on a GPS throughout the journey, and as the grateful owner of such a satellite-driven gizmo in my car, I was intrigued by the idea of trading badly folded maps for a GPS clipped to my handlebars. But as soon as I booked the trip, the relationship went irreversibly south and...well, never mind. Instead, my best friend, Donna Zalichin, said she'd be happy to squeeze in some training rides, wave good-bye to her husband and kids, and pedal off with me into what was supposed to be early autumnal sunshine. "It's his loss," she said. "But you'll be in charge of the GPS stuff, right?" Right. The beauty of the Top Bicycle plan is that the company books the hotels, transfers your overnight luggage in a van, and provides the bikes, helmets, water bottles, and assorted repair gear. And—this is crucial—Top Bicycle also supplies the preprogrammed GPS consoles, a local cell phone, backup maps, and precise cue-sheet route descriptions bound into a spiral notebook ("kilometer 13.1, turn right after church"). On Donna's and my to-do list: Find day packs and muster the leg power needed to roll from place to place. We were expected to cover an average of 35 miles per day, which may not be a piece of linzer torte for a weekend joyrider like me, but it's certainly doable—with plenty of stops to admire churches, castles, and chocolate shops along the way. Getting in gear So that's how Donna and I found ourselves in Salzburg on a mild but gray October day, lugging suitcases filled with moisture-wicking, super-synthetic, long-sleeved shirts; padded-crotch shorts; stiff-soled bike shoes; fleece vests; and lots of sunblock. Our destination was the Best Western Hotel Elefant, where we'd shake off any jet lag before meeting our Top Bicycle contact—and our top bicycles—the following morning. Turns out we could have skipped the sunblock: Rain spattered the windows of our taxi as we headed for the hotel. "How long are you ladies here?" asked the driver. (His excellent English had followed him from his home state of Michigan when he moved to Austria a few years before to play soccer.) "Eight days," I replied. "That's too bad," he said, shaking his head. "Cold rain is forecast straight through to next week!" After dropping off our luggage, we pulled on our windproof parkas to visit Mozart's birthplace—a must for this classical-music major who can still sing the alto part of Mozart's Requiem. Today, the composer's former home looks more like a trendy restaurant; golf balls decorated with Wolfgang's likeness were selling like hotcakes in the souvenir shop. The next morning, hyped up on Kaffee mit Schlag (coffee with dense whipped cream), we met up with Jackson, our patient British bike outfitter. We were, Jackson explained, two of his last clients of the season. "It's good to say that the weather is a bit unsettled," he said with British understatement. "It's a pity because, last week, we were enjoying Indian summer conditions." Donna shot me a look that translated to something between "just our luck" and "thanks for sharing." Before we could reminisce about the balmy weather we had left behind in New York, Jackson led us to our bikes and proceeded to demonstrate how to access the GPS system from town to town. "It's good to say that you can ring me anytime," Jackson said, handing me a Czech cell phone. We were eager to set off—just as some significant raindrops began to fall on our heads. As soon as Donna and I strapped on our damp helmets, the heavens opened for a cold, hard rain. Even attired like human lasagnas in layers of shirts and pants, we were sodden and shivering. Bicycle in this pneumonia-inducing precipitation? This was a vacation, not an episode of Fear Factor. And thus, on our first day of intrepid two-wheeled adventure, the driver loaded our dripping bikes back into the van and drove us the 31 miles to our next stop, the mountain-ringed village of St. Gilgen. We checked into the Hotel Gasthof zur Post, a rustic inn that started life as a coach house in 1330. It turns out there was a Mozart connection here, too: His sister, Maria Anna (nicknamed Nannerl), held her wedding reception in the drawing room in 1784. After staring at the rain for an hour, we decided to venture out to buy umbrellas and sample schnapps named for Nannerl at a tiny shop around the corner. (She was, from the taste of things, apparently fond of pear-flavored spirits.) Our preparatory conversation went like this: "How many layers are you wearing?" I asked. Donna: "A long-sleeved tee, a fleece, and a windbreaker. Plus a hat and mittens." My strategy was slightly different: two moisture-wicking tees, as well as a fleece vest over my fleece zip-up. In the evening, we ate venison and rabbit beside a crackling fire in the hotel's dining room, while outside the rain turned to serious snow. We found this hilarious. In fact, I found myself thinking how relieved I was to be on the trip with Donna, because my ex would certainly not have laughed. We were still giggling as we scrambled to add more layers the next morning. But it wasn't until we were both fully swaddled that we took note of a sign at the front desk that predicted an afternoon high of 37 degrees Fahrenheit. Ach! With no debate, we piled our gear back into the van and hitched a ride to the provincial city of Linz, where the Mozart leitmotif of our trip continued: This is where he composed his "Linz," Symphony No. 36 in C major. And that's when something amazing happened: For the entire afternoon, nothing fell from the sky. Donna and I nearly ran through the Mozart House museum so we'd have enough time to suit up and really test the bikes, the GPS, and our stamina for the 10-mile uphill climb toward the Czech Republic that awaited us the next day. Spinning our wheels At long last, the open road! There was just one glitch: I pushed the on button for the GPS and nothing happened. When I pressed it again, a map eventually came up, but I couldn't sync the program to the start of our route. "Don't look at me!" Donna said. We must have pulled off to the side of the road at least a dozen times to squint at the matchbook-size screen before deciding that it was easier to read the low-tech cue sheet booklets clipped to our handlebars. Donna, a quick study in the use of the miniscule odometers attached to our bikes, instinctively became the reader in chief. "At 0.1K, pass church on right-hand side," she yelled, cycling ahead of me. And at 0.1K, there it was! The next morning, of course, brought more rain. Rather than walk our bikes up a wet hill for 10 miles, we took our designated seats in the van. But once we crossed the Czech border into the village of Ceský Krumlov, with its gingerbread-like châteaux and castles, we agreed that we had to get with the cycling program. And so for one whole day, we biked—all the way to Hluboká nad Vltavou. We were wet, windblown, and always too cold, but as the kilometers rolled by, the yellow bike-path signs that lined the route seemed to salute our determination. For 26 miles, we relaxed into a rhythm of passing woodlands and wild pheasant, lone farmers and old women for whom the sight of two foreign ladies on bikes in bad weather was hardly worth noting. One problem: This being a weekday in October—i.e., not exactly peak tourist season—many of the churches and castles on our itinerary were closed. The other problem: The rain blurring the already indecipherable GPS rendered it more or less useless. Truth be told, of the 235 or so total miles we were meant to bike, we probably managed about 35 on our own leg power. The more memorable truth is that we kept devising creative solutions to keep from being rained out—and bummed out. With downpours starting up again as we prepared to leave Hluboká nad Vltavou, we figured out that we could at least pedal, even in gusts of sleet, to the train station. "Turn left!" Donna shouted into the whipping wind. "Are you sure?" I hollered. "No!" she screamed back. "OK, let's go!" Need I say that we missed the express train by 10 minutes, forcing us to wait an hour for the milk-stop local? Amazingly, we still laughed. "Have a Mozartkugeln chocolate ball," Donna offered as we collapsed in the station. "Dekuji," I said, thanking her in my best Czech. A pantomime-enhanced exchange with a ticket agent resulted in the purchase of two seats in the not-so-roomy cargo hold of a train bound for Písek. Upon disembarking, we shrieked into the wind some more while pedaling to Hotel Bílá Ruze—where the concierge looked none too pleased when we rolled our sopping bikes into the lobby. "Verboten!" she chastised. Of course, she didn't know the troubles we'd seen. Torrential rain followed us from Písek into Prague, where we took a walking tour under the umbrella of a Czech woman who was eager to expound on the price of beer. (It's a bargain.) And it poured all the way to the airport. Naturally, sunshine greeted us when we landed at JFK in New York. But all the ideal weather in the world couldn't have produced the laughs Donna and I had shared. While the weather didn't hold up, our friendship weathered the trip, and we had fun discovering each other's strengths: I could read signs at a distance (Donna's eyes don't work like that), and she could convert Czech currency into dollars faster than I could. We were also well matched snack-wise: I sampled the beer at all price points, while Donna became the chocolate connoisseur. And both of us loved cesnecka soup, made with caraway seed and potatoes, which we ordered every chance we got. This trip was supposed to be about relying on a fancy gadget to travel the world in a newly independent way. GPS snafus aside, what I discovered is that the true joy of travel is experiencing rain (and the occasional shine) with a good friend by your side—and at least one spare pair of socks in your day pack.

1. Sobering thoughts The French Quarter may be one of the nation's main party zones, but it has its quiet spots. Duck into Kitchen Witch Cookbooks and you just might find a first-edition M.F.K. Fisher (631 Toulouse St., 504/528-8382, kwcookbooks.com). Arcadian Books & Art Prints is a tight squeeze, but it's a trove of books about Louisiana's history and culture (714 Orleans Ave., 504/523-4138). 2. They put the art in party Held the third Saturday of every month in Markey Park, the Bywater Art Market showcases local artists and a food truck that sells boudin balls (breaded and fried sausage). You'll find paintings, photography, jewelry, and boxes made from recycled lumber. Royal St. and Piety St., art-restoration.com/bam, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. 3. High on the hog Culture-conscious chefs are reviving recipes from the old-time boucherie (butchering) tradition. Tory McPhail's dinner menu at Commander's Palace recently offered pork-belly pie and house-made bacon (1403 Washington Ave., 504/899-8221, commanderspalace.com, entrées from $27). At Cochon, chef-owner Donald Link turns boudin balls and cochon de lait (roasted suckling pig) into delicacies (930 Tchoupitoulas St., 504/588-2123, cochonrestaurant.com, entrées from $14). At his newest restaurant, Lüke, John Besh serves choucroute maison, the house sauerkraut, with house-made sausages, pork belly, pig knuckles, and cochon de lait (333 St. Charles Ave., 504/378-2840, lukeneworleans.com, $13). 4. Acadian rhythm A two-hour drive from the city, Breaux Bridge, La., is the perfect place to dip a toe into Acadiana, a.k.a. Cajun Country. Start by tuning the radio to KBON 101.1 FM; DJs speak in the local dialect and play Cajun and zydeco music. Visit Poche's for hog's head cheese and boudin (3015A Main Hwy., 337/332-2108, poches.com) and Mulate's, The Original Cajun Restaurant for gumbo, étouffée, and alligator (325 Mills Ave., 337/332-4648, entrées from $12). The owners of Bayou Cabins, Rocky and Lisa Sonnier, do a trade in cracklings (similar to pork rinds) and sometimes fry breakfast beignets in the fat. "That's some good eating, chère," says Rocky (100 W. Mills Ave., 337/332-6158, bayoucabins.com, from $60). 5. Take me to the river Audubon Park is an urban paradise for golfers, runners, bikers, picnicking families, and napping students. Audubon Zoo is on the grounds, along with one of the city's best views of the Mississippi. At sunset, crowds gather at the riverbank with soccer balls, six-packs, and peel-and-eat crawfish. auduboninstitute.org. 6. Helping hands Brad Pitt's Make It Right Foundation is helping to rebuild the Lower Ninth Ward, with an initial goal of constructing 150 affordable, relatively hurricane-resistant homes (makeitrightnola.org). More than a million people have donated elbow grease, money, and time, and the state of Louisiana has a website—volunteerlouisiana.gov—for people looking to lend a hand. 7. Sounds nice To really savor jazz, go where you can sit. In the French Quarter, the best options are Preservation Hall (726 St. Peter St., 504/522-2841, preservationhall.com, $10) and Fritzel's European Jazz Pub (733 Bourbon St., 504/586-4800, one-drink minimum). Nearby, Snug Harbor Jazz Bistro hosts legends like Ellis Marsalis (626 Frenchmen St., 504/949-0696, snugjazz.com, from $15). 8. Catch-as-catch-candy The first Roman Candy Man, Sam Cortese, entered the taffy-pulling trade in 1915 after he lost his legs in an accident. Today, his grandson Ron Kottemann traverses New Orleans in Sam's old mule-drawn cart, selling vanilla-, chocolate-, and strawberry-flavored Roman Chewing Candy, while Ron's son Daniel sells his wares from a cart at the zoo. romancandy.gourmetfoodmall.com, 75¢. 9. Iris fidelis Louisiana's state flower is the magnolia, but the fleur-de-lis is the ultimate expression of New Orleanian loyalty. Since Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, the iris has been a top choice for tattoos. For a less permanent memento, check out Mignon Faget jewelry (multiple locations, mignonfaget.com) and Scriptura stationery (5423 Magazine St., 504/897-1555, scriptura.com). 10. Storied history It's nearly impossible to make it through a day without hearing about the voodoo priestess Marie Laveau, or the pirate antihero Jean Lafitte, or how much of the French Quarter's architecture is actually Spanish. Get beyond local lore at The Historic New Orleans Collection, a museum and research center. 533 Royal St., 504/523-4662, www.hnoc.org, free, tour of the permanent collection $5. 11. Home cooking Zoning laws allow businesses in some residential neighborhoods, so restaurateurs set up shop in cozy houses. Enjoy rabbit-and-andouille gumbo in what feels like a friend's dining room at Brigtsen's Restaurant (723 Dante St., 504/861-7610, brigtsens.com, gumbo $8.75). Dick and Jenny's is a clapboard cottage where soft-shell crabs come in a Thai green curry sauce (4501 Tchoupitoulas St., 504/894-9880, dickandjennys.com, entrées from $16). 12. A ringing endorsement "We're known internationally but not so much locally," says Jill Abbyad, who has run Chimes Bed & Breakfast with her husband for 22 years. Guests enter through a side gate and access the rooms from a communal courtyard. 1146 Constantinople St., 504/899-2621, chimesneworleans.com, from $99. 13. Let the good times roll Mid City Lanes Rock 'n' Bowl is one of the hottest venues for Louisiana-style music and dancing. The ambience is retro, and the clientele is multigenerational. Thursday is Zydeco Night. 4133 S. Carrollton Ave., 504/482-3133, rockandbowl.com, $18 per lane per hour. 14. Rifling through architecture A shotgun house is a narrow, often one-story affair with each room situated behind the other. (The idea is that if you fired a shot at the entrance, it would travel through every room and out the back.) The city's shotguns tend to be colorfully painted; a row of them strikes a picturesque pose. Driving through the Upper Ninth Ward, Bywater, Faubourg Marigny, Irish Channel, Uptown, and Riverbend neighborhoods provides concentrated viewing. New Orleans' Favorite Shotguns, by Mary Fitzpatrick and Alex Lemann, is a useful companion; buy it at the Preservation Resource Center. 923 Tchoupitoulas St., 504/581-7032, prcno.org. 15. Just off the boot A wave of Sicilian immigrants in the early 20th century created some beloved food traditions: muffulettas at Central Grocery Co. (923 Decatur St., 504/523-1620, $13), spaghetti with red gravy and Italian sausage at Mandina's Restaurant (3800 Canal St., 504/482-9179, mandinasrestaurant.com, $12), and gelato and cannoli at Angelo Brocato Ice Cream & Confectionery (214 N. Carrollton Ave., 504/486-1465, angelobrocatoicecream.com). 16. Stars in stripes Seersucker is a summer staple in New Orleans. Perlis, a favorite local clothing retailer, is the place to go to outfit the entire family. Flagship store, 6070 Magazine St., 504/895-8661, perlis.com. 17. What's old is new A close cousin to the old-fashioned, the modern-day Sazerac is a cocktail incorporating rye, Peychaud's Bitters, pastis, sugar, and a lemon twist. Try one at the Hotel Monteleone's rotating Carousel Bar. 214 Royal St., 504/523-3341, hotelmonteleone.com. 18. Gumbo guidelines Every Louisianan has a set of rules about the famous stew: A gumbo must contain a roux; or, a roux isn't necessary if you use okra; or, okra should be used only in seafood gumbos. To taste multiple styles, visit the Gumbo Shop in the French Quarter. 630 St. Peter St., 877/525-1486, gumboshop.com, gumbo from $8. 19. A fresh approach New Orleanians enjoy changes of seasons—seafood seasons, that is. That means oysters during fall and winter, crawfish in spring, and shrimp and crabs all summer long. Casamento's Restaurant, located Uptown, is famous for its raw oysters and fried-oyster loaf (4330 Magazine St., 504/895-9761, casamentosrestaurant.com, oysters $8.75 per dozen). Big Fisherman Seafood specializes in boiled crawfish (3301 Magazine St., 504/897-9907, bigfishermanseafood.com, crawfish $2.50 per pound). And Tommy's Cuisine is revered for its crabmeat au gratin (746 Tchoupitoulas St., 504/581-1103, tommyscuisine.com, entrées from $21). 20. Magnificent MiLa Slade Rushing and Allison Vines-Rushing fell in love as young cooks in New Orleans roughly a decade ago and then moved to Manhattan to pursue their big-city dreams. Now they've returned to the South and opened MiLa (an amalgam of Mississippi and Louisiana); they take the products of an area farm and turn sweet potatoes into pappardelle and muscadine wine into a dessert gelée. Renaissance Pere Marquette Hotel, 817 Common St., 504/412-2580, milaneworleans.com, entrées from $19. 21. Southern hospitality Two blocks from the French Quarter, the International House hotel offers New Orleans–style glamour with a nod to the city's penchant for superstition. In the plush lobby, a West African fertility bench is covered with so many pillar candles that it seems more like an altar than a decoration. Rooms have bedside tables with cruciform feet, said to act as talismans for guests. 221 Camp St., 800/633-5770, ihhotel.com, from $119. 22. Drink locally Abita Amber, produced by Abita Brewing Company, is a favorite New Orleans brew—the caramel flavor complements long, slow nights. But since its creation after the hurricanes of 2005, Abita's Fleur-de-lis Restoration Ale has become a new favorite. 21084 Hwy. 36, Abita Springs, 985/893-3143, abita.com, brewery tour free. 23. Progressive parties Social Aid and Pleasure Clubs celebrate local traditions by high stepping through the streets in what are called second-line parades. There's always a brass band and sometimes outfits with sashes and feather fans. For routes and to learn more about second-line traditions, visit the Backstreet Cultural Museum. 1116 St. Claude Ave., 504/287-5224, backstreetmuseum.org, $8. 24. Class transit Gravely damaged after Hurricane Katrina, the St. Charles Avenue and Canal Street streetcar lines are operational again. Tourists ride knee to knee with commuters and kids, for whom the streetcars serve as school buses. $1.25 per ride; exact change required. 25. You're invited! Festival season runs spring through fall, and if there's a town, a food, a craft, or a cause, Louisiana celebrates it. You might know the biggies: the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival (Jazz Fest), French Quarter Fest, and Essence Fest. But what about the Creole Tomato Festival? Or, 85 miles southwest of the city, in Morgan City, the Shrimp and Petroleum Festival? neworleansonline.com/calendar.

Hold a dress rehearsal "Each year before we go, we set up our tent in the backyard or in our living room, roll out the sleeping bags and pads, and spend the night. That gives all of our kids a chance to say, 'I need something softer,' or, 'My sleeping bag isn't warm enough,' before we're in the middle of the woods." —Steve Long, director of government relations, the Nature Conservancy, Boston, Mass. Make food fun "Adults tend to forget to do that. But for kids, roasting marshmallows or the fact that dad can make blueberry pancakes might become the most memorable part of the trip. Another tip is to bring two coolers: one for drinks and snacks that people grab all the time, the other for items only used at mealtimes. That way, kids can pull out a drink or a snack without creating a fuss." —Jim Reid, spokesman for Coleman, a leading manufacturer of camping gear, Wichita, Kans. Involve your children "It's frustrating for kids to sit around and watch you fumble with tent stakes. The more quickly you can say, 'Look, I don't know how to do this, so let's figure it out together,' the faster they'll get involved—and start having fun. Help them relax by lowering your standards. Sometimes their fondest memories will be of things going wrong." —Bill Vecchiarelli, program director, Outward Bound, Midpines, Calif. Stay close to home "Sometimes people think they have to go to the most beautiful park or else they won't have a good experience. But that's not true. Almost everyone lives within an hour of some public forest or park, and those spaces can offer fun experiences—and get you out of your comfort zone—without the hassles of making you travel a long distance." —Adam Howard, editor, Backcountry Magazine, Jeffersonville, Vt. Get up early "You'll have the woods all to yourself. I've learned this lesson during family camping trips. Sure, it's interesting to see how a bear or a buffalo can cause a traffic jam at Yellowstone during the middle of the day. But observing a park when the light has its early-morning exquisiteness, and when the woods are so private, you're sure to find magic moments all your own." —Dayton Duncan, writer and filmmaker, who recently collaborated with Ken Burns on The National Parks: America's Best Idea, which will air on PBS in 2009 Indulge a bit "I'm a minimalist, but I think pillows make everything better. No one can have a good time if he or she hasn't gotten a good night's sleep. And don't forget: A bottle of wine can turn a simple one-skillet meal into a really good one." —Alysia Schmidt, interpretive ranger, National Park Service's Sequoia and Kings Canyon national parks, Calif. Call a campground manager "Ask key questions. For example: What kind of wildlife may you encounter? If there are bears, you might be required to store food in the trunk of your car or hang it in a tree. In some places at certain times, there are bans on open fires or camp stoves—or rules that you must bring your own wood. And do you need to reserve a spot or buy a permit?" —Jennifer Peter, camping consultant, Girl Scouts of the USA, New York, N.Y. [Editor's note: You can often find the phone number for a campground manager on the Web, such as at the official sites of Kampgrounds of America (koa.com) and the National Park Service (nps.gov).]

GETTING TICKETS Despite the weak buying power of the U.S. dollar in Canada, the Winter Olympics will be relatively affordable. A large chunk of the 1.6 million-seat pool for sport event tickets is priced under $100 each, including all luge, bobsled, and biathlon competitions—and some freestyle skiing races. Even the most popular events, such as giant slalom and speed skating, will offer back-of-the-venue seats for under $100. Even better: Over 100,000 tickets carry a face value of just $25. No, these seats aren't in the inner circle, but you won't feel like you're viewing the action from Mars, either. Vancouver's largest Olympics competition venue, Canada Hockey Place, has about 18,000 seats, making it far smaller than Beijing's 91,000-seat behemoth, National Stadium. In addition, about 800,000 tickets will be available for ceremonies and cultural events at affordable prices. The Vancouver Games kick off in February 2010, but the first round of ticket orders will be placed on October 3, 2008. It is a ticket request lottery, but it's not as random as it sounds, because you can pick the events you prefer to see. Snub the official Games website (vancouver2010.com), which only sells to Canadians. Americans should place ticket orders through two authorized sellers: Jet Set Sports (908/766-1001, jetsetsports.com) and its sister company, CoSport (877/457-4647, cosport.com), which also provide full lists of events to help you choose your favorites. Be ready with your choices on October 3.* The date when remaining tickets will go on sale hasn't been announced yet, but it is expected to fall between early and mid-2009. The second round is not a lottery; buyers will purchase seats directly, at face value, on the Jet Set and CoSport websites. As with any Olympic Games, it's best to keep an open mind about events. Even watching a less glamorous round of preliminary contests live in Vancouver (for between $25 and $80 a seat) will still be more thrilling than watching an Olympic sports event on TV. KEY EVENTS Vancouver will have two Athletes' Villages: one in Vancouver proper and the other at the Whistler Blackcomb Resort, two hours north along the scenic Sea to Sky highway (Route 99). Events will be split between the two locations: The opening and closing ceremonies, freestyle skiing and snowboarding, ice hockey, and figure and speed skating take place in Vancouver and in Richmond (a city roughly a half-hour drive south of Vancouver), while many other events (such as alpine skiing, biathlon, bobsled, and ski jumping) are in Whistler. GETTING THERE If you intend to fly directly to Vancouver, book early. Airlines start selling fares about a year in advance, so plan to start looking in February 2009. You could fly to Seattle on a discount airline (Virgin America, JetBlue, and Southwest), and drive three hours to Vancouver, but we don't recommend it: Border-control delays are notoriously unpredictable, and heavy restrictions on roads and parking during the Games will make it a liability to have a car. Other options include Amtrak, which connects downtown Seattle and downtown Vancouver on a roughly four-hour train route that typically costs between $60 and $92 round trip. Buses connect Seattle airport with downtown Vancouver (quickcoach.com and gotobus.com, recently about $100 round trip). GETTING AROUND As we noted, forget about driving to—or in—Vancouver during the Games. Even now, this environmentally minded city is pushing its citizens out of cars and onto bicycles, buses, and mass transit including the SkyTrain and a new rapid transit system, The Canada Line (canadaline.ca), opening in 2009. Don't stress: Vancouver's public transportation system is comprehensive. LODGING Forget staying on the U.S. side; it's simply too far. Seattle, for example, is about 140 miles away, and border-control delays amplify the distance. Greater Vancouver is a major metropolis with nearly 24,000 hotel rooms, offering a variety of lodging choices. But don't wait too long to book. Many hotels will begin taking reservations in early October after tickets go on sale. Act before travel agencies and tour providers book up blocks of rooms. You can cut your costs by staying outside of the city in a neighborhood linked by public transportation. Consider finding a hotel, inn, B&B, or apartment in a suburb such as Burnaby, Horseshoe Bay, or Richmond, which are near Olympic venues. For a greater list of serviced suburbs, check the official public transport site (translink.bc.ca). Some private homes will be offered for rent through traditional travel agents, while others will be rented out via online sites like van2010rentals.com. PACKAGES If you don't want to bother with ticket lotteries, pay a little more for a package that includes tickets and a hotel stay. For example, Sports Traveler, a Chicago-based sports tour operator, provides accommodations ranging from two to five stars, but it won't release its 2010 packages until next year (888/654-7755; sportstraveler.net). CoSport hasn't announced its package prices for the Games in Vancouver yet either, but they'll probably be similar to prices for previous Olympics. Consider that for the 2006 Winter Games in Turin, Italy, packages that covered four nights of lodging and tickets to one event, but not airfare, started at about $2,700. PASSPORT PROCEDURES Before the Winter Games commence, the Canada-U.S. border crossing rules will change, and documents such as a birth certificate and an ordinary driver's license will no longer be sufficient for authorities. The simplest, most surefire strategy in 2010 will be to bring your passport. If you need to start from scratch and apply for a new passport, know that it currently costs $100; you may prefer to apply for a passport card, which costs only $45. For more info on passports and passport cards, visit the Department of State website (travel.state.gov). By 2009, some states, such as Washington and New York, will be offering enhanced driver's licenses that will be about as cheap and effective as passport cards. You will be able to use a passport, a passport card, or an enhanced driver's license to enter and exit Canada by car, bus, rail, or cruise ship. If you fly between here and Canada, you'll need a passport. *CLARIFICATION (Oct. 8, 2008). Due to an editing error, the original version of this article included the phrase "The lottery favors early birds." By that phrase, we meant to say that it would be advantageous to apply for tickets in the first round rather than wait. We did not mean to imply that it is a "first-come, first-served" lottery. We should have been more clear in explaining that ticket applications in the first round are given equal weight (and are not prioritized according to the date they were submitted).