Travelers' Tales

March 8, 2009
On second thought, we'll take those Italian chips
From our April issue: Readers share anecdotes about a language mix-up in Puerto Vallarta, twitching food in Cambodia, no-star toilets in China, a curious monkey in Barbados, and more.

New Prize
The best response we receive between April 18, 2009, and May 10, 2009, wins a four-night trip for four people to the Loews Coronado Bay Resort in Coronado, Calif., courtesy of Loews. The prize includes one bay-view room, breakfast daily, and activities like dive-in movies and bay-side marshmallow roasts. For more info: 800/815-6397, loewshotels.com.

How to enter E-mail us at TrueStories@BudgetTravel.com or mail us at True Stories, Budget Travel, 530 Seventh Ave., New York, NY 10018. For a complete rundown of the contest guidelines, please see BudgetTravel.com/truestories.

Trip Winner April's winner is Jim Barnett of Brookhaven, Miss. His prize is two nights in Puerto Rico for two people, plus dinner and a spa treatment, courtesy of Rio Mar Beach Resort & Spa.

Two friends and I decided to drive from Dallas to check out a lake in Mexico that was known for its bass. After crossing the border in the dark, we got quite lost, and as we were driving through a village, a policeman stopped us. Realizing that none of us spoke Spanish, he had me, the driver, walk with him about two blocks to the jail. When he got out the keys and opened a cell, I thought, This is it. Imagine my surprise when a prisoner came out and said, "May I help you?" The policeman temporarily released the man so he could help us get to the lake. The prisoner—who said he had been locked up after a car accident even though he was innocent—joined us for two great days of fishing and good food. Then we returned him to custody. Viva Mexico!

A nice clear lip gloss might be a better look for him
During our 10th-anniversary trip to Ubud, Bali, the staff at our villa offered to photograph me and my husband in traditional Balinese wedding attire. On a sweltering afternoon, I allowed myself to be slathered in heavy makeup and wrapped in yards of sarongs and sashes. For a plus-size woman, this was no easy feat, and the attendants used dozens of safety pins to keep everything in place. My extremely introverted husband was mortified when they beckoned for him. It took plenty of coaxing, but he finally relented. Erin Tapken, Marion, Iowa

Are neck skirts the new look?
After visiting London, I flew to Florence to study abroad. I checked two large bags and was left with my purse and a carry-on. At security, I was told my carry-on was too big and that I couldn't bring it. I was about to miss my flight, so I had to think fast. I stepped out of line, opened the bag, and put on every last article of clothing—four shirts, two sweaters, two jackets, and finally two skirts, which I draped around my neck. To pass through the metal detector, I had to take off my shoes, jackets, sweaters, and neck skirts...and then put them all back on again. But it worked! Hannah Welch, Los Angeles, Calif.

At least he was listening While on vacation at a resort, my husband and I went to the buffet for lunch. After making my choices, I sat down and resumed our conversation where I had left off. I finally looked up from my plate, only to realize that the man at the table was not my husband! My companion was staring at me, dumbfounded, and then we both burst out laughing. As for my husband, he had been sitting one table over, watching the whole thing. For the rest of the week, every time the man saw me, he waved and called out, "Hi, honey!" Grace Kapelanski, Palos Park, Ill.

Maybe start with a teacup I traveled to Malawi to visit a friend. Her village was remote, and we had to haul water from the village well to her house. I usually spilled half of mine en route and was amazed by how gracefully the local women and girls carried the bucket without spilling a drop. They made it look so effortless that I decided to try their method. I started by practicing with an empty bucket. Once I got to the well, I filled my container half full before hefting it. All eyes were on me, but I made it just a few steps before giving up. In the end, I had to ask a girl half my age to carry my bucket for me. Sarah Ruttan, Tucson, Ariz.

And we always thought one star was the lowest My family traveled through China, and instead of booking fancy hotels, we wanted to stay in smaller, more authentic places in the oldest parts of each town. All of our many guides, however, were star-minded, proudly pointing out every five-star hotel that we passed along the way. On the road to Lijiang, our guide and our driver conferred and selected a restaurant for lunch. It was a great meal. Afterward, we asked about the bathrooms. The guide went to check with the owners and came back to tell us, "Toilets are no star." He certainly was right about that: The so-called toilets were just open trenches next to the pigsty. Judith Capen, Washington, D.C.

The adult chips are kept behind the register While in Sardinia, Italy, I intended to immerse myself in the culture by sampling the local food and wine and exploring the island. I was quite surprised when the general store next to a Sardinian history museum prominently featured a shelf loaded with this particular delicacy. Summer Brown, Blacksburg, Va.

This time, you can't really blame the monkey Visiting the Barbados Wildlife Reserve, we were charmed by how close you could get to the animals at feeding time. The green monkeys are wild and roam the island freely. They tend to come to the reserve to get snacks from the tourists. One sat on a bench next to my friend Carol, and she proceeded to show it things—her purse, her keys, her glasses. Each time she offered something to our new friend, he'd reach a paw out to investigate, but Carol always pulled the item back. At last, the monkey had enough of Carol's teasing; it decided to show her something and gave her a bite on the bum! Kathy Noll, Reading, Pa.

Easiest mistake in the world My wife and I were in Puerto Vallarta at an open-air market that had a greeter, much like our Wal-Mart back home does. He smiled and welcomed us in Spanish. Using my best high-school Spanish, I responded, and asked, "What time do you close?" The greeter's smile vanished, and he stepped back slowly and then ran away. While my wife and I tried to figure out what went wrong, the greeter returned with a machine-gun-toting policeman, who asked me in English, "What is your problem, señor?" I told him I had asked what time the market closed and repeated what I had said in Spanish. The policeman laughed and explained, "You did not say, 'What time do you close?' You asked, 'What time do you want to die?'" Needless to say, I stuck with English from that point on. Harold Cole, Johnson City, Tenn.

Try checking under the horse I took a carriage ride in Egypt arranged by my guide, who paid the tip in advance. My driver told me that his horse was pregnant. She didn't look pregnant, but what do I know about pregnant horses? He also talked about the cost of sending his son, who was in the carriage with us, to school. After all that, of course, I gave him a second tip. When I told my guide about the day, he laughed and said, "I know your driver very well. His horse is male, and he has no children." That day I was taken for two rides. Jane Rosenberg, Houston, Tex.

Souvenirs of what, exactly? While traveling in China and Tibet with a group of older couples, we stayed at a hotel in Lhasa. In the bathrooms we found condoms in decorative wrappers with a sign saying that they were 25¢ each. After a three-day stay, our group was on the bus ready to leave when the manager came running out and asked who had stayed in No. 207. Bill and Barbara held up their hands, at which point the manager said loudly, "You used the condoms and didn't pay for them!" There was a roar of laughter and two very red faces. Barbara had taken the condoms as souvenirs. Leonard E. Snyder, Flat Rock, N.C.

On second thought, we'll take those Italian chips By my third tour of Cambodia, I thought I had seen the world's weirdest foods, like deep-fried spiders and "thousand-year-old" duck eggs, which are buried for months until the yolk is green. But I was not prepared when a woman approached me in Kompong Cham with a tray of snakes. I had my choice of boiled or deep-fried. I've eaten some strange things, but I just couldn't bring myself to try those creatures—some were still twitching! Adam Lempel, Chesterfield, N.H.

Try bungee jumping again? In New Zealand, I had the opportunity to bungee jump at the famous Kawarau Bridge, and I really wanted to do it. Just one drawback: I wear dentures. I asked the busload of strangers I was touring with if anyone had denture adhesive. A Scottish lady loaned me hers. I ran to the bathroom, applied the cream, and hurried out. But my new friend sent me back for "a wee bit more—just to be sure," she said. Well, I jumped and survived. Three days later, I had to stand up on the bus and ask if anyone had any idea how I could get the stupid teeth out of my mouth. Bonnie Poynor, Hickman, Ky.

Is husband swapping a new trend out there? My husband, Jason, and I were in Key Largo, Fla., and went snorkeling at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park. After a few minutes, I saw a beautiful blue fish. I grabbed Jason's hand so I could bring him to see it, but he swam in the other direction. I followed him, locked my fingers in his, and started pulling him toward my favorite fish. I heard a "mmm mmm" sound under the water. Jason pulled his hand away and shook his head. I stared into his mask and realized that it wasn't my husband—just another snorkeler wearing a similar swimsuit! My husband still reminds me about the time I tried to pick up a guy underwater. Eileen O'Neill, San Francisco, Calif.

It's not like you met there Before my husband and I were married, we took a trip to Turkey. On a very hot day in August, we arrived at the ancient city of Ephesus. I wanted a guided tour, but my then boyfriend had a hidden agenda and insisted we venture through the city by ourselves. After a couple of hours, he took my hand and led me to a building that our map identified as the House of Love. We went inside, just the two of us, and he got down on one knee and proposed. I said yes, and on our way out we bought books about the history of Ephesus. Back home, when we finally looked through the guides, we learned that our House of Love was so named because it had originally been a brothel. Kathleen Eren, Indianapolis, Ind.

But you just wasted 35¢ After traveling from Virginia to visit our daughter in Chiang Mai, Thailand, my wife and I were quite fatigued. We had dinner with her but were soon ready to go to the hotel. During negotiations for the price of a ride, she wanted to show us that she was a resident who would not be taken advantage of. We waited patiently as she waved down a songthaew (taxi) three times, bargained with each driver, and then sent each one away. I asked what the problem was, and she told me that they were trying to take advantage of us. They wanted to charge us 30 baht ($1 back then) each. She was able to get them down to 15 baht, but locals generally only pay 10 baht. She was determined to get us a ride for that price. Needless to say, we put an end to the negotiations and hopped in the next songthaew that came along. Thomas G. Ryon, Warrenton, Va.

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Scoring Deals Is So in Vogue These Days

I recently ran into a friend who works for an über-luxury travel magazine. He was bemoaning how hard it is these days for his publication to remain relevant. Even folks who can pay for $1,200 a night rooms find it a little, well, excessive. After all, we're in a moment when places like the Arctic Club Hotel in Seattle are rebranding as three-star instead of four-star—hoping to appeal to a broader market. Welcome to our world! We're happy to have you. Scoring deals isn't just something that should be in vogue (and, literally, in Vogue) in tough times. The thrill of the hunt has always been a point of pride for Budget Travel readers, and we have all the more fun for it. Recently, I took part in a panel discussion for Travel Weekly with several magazine editors in which we discussed what the economic downturn meant for our readers. While I don't want to sound naive, I just don't believe people are willing to stop traveling—it's such a part of what makes life worth living. You, no doubt, agree. In a poll on BudgetTravel.com, we asked where you intended to go in 2009. More than 550 people jumped in to respond, talking about enticing last-minute deals and plans for everything from a rafting trip down the Snake River to a list of spots chosen because they begin with various letters of the alphabet. This last itinerary came from a woman whose goal was to tick off all 26 characters: "Laos, Vietnam, Myanmar, and Peru will all give me a letter I haven't visited yet. Will still have A, J, K, O, Q, X, and Y to go. Yemen, anyone?" Yemen isn't on my itinerary for 2009, but now that my daughter has hit the 3-month mark, I'm getting ready to join you out there. There are just far too many bargains right now for me to pass up.

Drive Down the Blue Ridge Parkway

DAY 1 In my family, Dad was the travel planner, and vacations meant escaping Manhattan for the open road—with him at the wheel, Mom at his side, and me sandwiched between my younger sisters in the backseat. Dad, an oldest child himself, likes to remind me that "we eldests have to stick together," and that includes traveling. About 10 years ago, he and I made a pact to ride the length of the Trans-Siberian Railway someday, but Siberia will have to wait. Today is Father's Day, and we're embarking on our first dad-daughter trip: tackling the Blue Ridge Mountains in the western tip of North Carolina. As the early-morning mist dissipates, bluegrass plays on the stereo and, at last, I'm driving. There's already a crowd sprawled on the patio ofSunny Point Café, in the funky town of Asheville, when we pull up at 10 a.m. We help ourselves to mugs of coffee and add our name to the waiting list. A server reads out "George W. Bush," and a crunchy couple gets up to peals of laughter. Once we're seated, I choose the MGB, a "mighty good breakfast" of spicy sausage patties, scrambled eggs, a biscuit, and organic chipotle cheese grits. Dad has his work cut out for him, too, with a pile of cornmeal hotcakes served with blackberry butter. Surveying the scene, he quips, "It's dreads meet yups." We see Asheville's creative side in full force in the River Arts District. This weekend happens to be the biannual studio stroll, and we wander into Phil Mechanic Studios during a glassblowing demo. Dad inadvertently takes the exit reading hippies use side door, and I snap a photo of him flashing a peace sign. At a gallery called Clayspace, I ask him to take my picture by a wood-fired ceramic vase that's taller than I am. As Dad fumbles with my camera, I swipe it away and ask a scruffy guy to capture the shot, and he obliges—it turns out he's the giant vessel's creator, Eric Knoche. Fathers get into theBiltmoreestate free today, so Dad and I cut our studio stroll short in the interest of saving $50—a per-person admission fee as staggering as the Vanderbilts' 8,000-acre country retreat. We're wowed by the 250-room house, and especially by the banquet hall with its 70-foot ceiling, 16th-century tapestries, and pipe organ. In the courtyard café, root beer floats recharge us for the gardens, designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, who also codesigned Central Park. We end our visit with a tasting at the winery; our favorite is a crisp zinfandel. It's dark when we get to the early-20th-centuryRed Rocker Innin the town of Black Mountain. Some guests are playing board games in the parlor, which looks appealing to me, but Dad won't rest until we've had our first bite of North Carolina barbecue. Doug Bowman, the innkeeper, points us toPhil's Bar-B-Que Pit. The place clearly doesn't take sides in the state's raging barbecue debate, as tables have bottles of both vinegar- and tomato-based sauces. Our order of so-so ribs and hand-chopped pork leaves us yearning for more fire. LODGING Red Rocker Inn 136 N. Dougherty St., Black Mountain, 888/669-5991, redrockerinn.com, from $105 FOOD Sunny Point Café 626 Haywood Rd., Asheville, 828/252-0055, MGB $7.25 Phil's Bar-B-Que Pit 701 N.C. Hwy. 9, Black Mountain, 828/669-3606, pork plate $7 ACTIVITIESBiltmore 1 Approach Rd., Asheville, 800/411-3812, biltmore.com, from $35, depending on the season NIGHTLIFE Jack of the Wood 95 Patton Ave., Asheville, 828/252-5445, jackofthewood.com DAY 2 While I order a fair-trade latte atDripolator Coffeehouse, Dad spies New Mexico and Mississippi license plates, bringing our count—a road-trip tradition—to 25 states. We pick up Route 74 East, which runs parallel to the boulder-filled Rocky Broad River, and pass towering, shaggy trees that remind me of the ents fromThe Lord of the Rings. Our first stop isChimney Rock Park, whose namesake 315-foot-tall granite monolith juts out of the mountainside. An elevator built inside the rock zooms us to the top, and we admire the view of the emerald countryside and Lake Lure. Narrow wood stairs stretch across a chasm to a still higher lookout point. One of the less desirable qualities I inherited from Dad is a fear of heights. I stand frozen at the base of the steps. Up goes someone in flip-flops, then some toddlers; down comes a grandma who's helped back into a wheelchair. That does it—clutching the railing as my heart races, I charge up. At the top, I give a tree a hug of relief. On lower ground, Dad and I hike to Hickory Nut Falls. Much of Daniel Day-Lewis'sThe Last of the Mohicanswas filmed in this hickory, oak, and maple forest. At the calls of two birds, Dad, a birder, breaks out binoculars, but the creatures prove elusive. Ready for the next challenge—canoeing—we speed toLake Lure, where Dirty Dancing was filmed. It's nearly closing time, so the friendly teens at the canoe stand give us the rental for free, and we paddle around the tree-ringed lake for an hour. Sitting in the car feels good after all that activity. We enter Pisgah National Forest on U.S. 276 and brake for Looking Glass Falls, one of the hundreds of waterfalls in the state's southwest corner. The late-afternoon sun makes me a little dizzy as we snake south and west along the Blue Ridge Parkway. A dense canopy of trees shades the road, only to yield to a bright, open stretch at the next turn, forcing me to push my sunglasses on and off. I steal glimpses of the undulating mountain ridges, and Dad gives the digital camera another try at milepost 431, the parkway's highest point. Approaching the town of Cherokee, we see billboards for tribal bingo and kitschy amusement parks like Santa's Land, home to the Rudicoaster. We've got other plans:Unto These Hills, an outdoor play about local Cherokee history with a cast of more than 100. We're moved by the tale of gutsy tribe members who refused to leave their homeland during the forced Trail of Tears march and instead hid out right here in the surrounding Great Smokies. LODGING Newfound Lodge 34 Hwy. 441 N., Cherokee, 828/497-2746, $70 FOOD Dripolator Coffeehouse 221 W. State St., Black Mountain, 828/669-0999, latte $2.50 ACTIVITIES Chimney Rock Park 431 Main St., Chimney Rock, 828/625-9611, chimneyrockpark.com,, $14 Lake Lure 2771 Memorial Hwy., Lake Lure, 877/386-4255, lakelure.com, canoe rental $20 per hour Unto These Hills Mountainside Theatre, Cherokee, 866/554-4557, cherokee-nc.com, June 5–Aug. 29, $18 DAY 3 After a good night's sleep at the modest Newfound Lodge, Dad and I—both serious pancake people—hitPeter's Pancakes & Waffles. I opt for the cakes with chopped pecans. Dad, the family cook, declares his buckwheat stack terrific. Outside, we notice that the street signs are written in curly Cherokee letters as well as in English, a reminder that we're within the 100-square-mile Qualla Boundary, owned by the Eastern Cherokee and held in trust by the government. There's a glut of souvenir shops with names like Sundancer Crafts and Totem Pole. We browse atQualla Arts and Crafts Mutual, which sells cloth dolls and stone carvings made by a cooperative of Cherokee artisans. My mom would love this place; I buy her a beaded red-felt ornament shaped like a pair of moccasins. When I find my dad, he's tugging at a huge bow and arrow. Across the street at theMuseum of the Cherokee Indian, we scope out a 22-foot-long dugout canoe and an exhibit with dioramas, audio clips, and digital images. The weather is too gorgeous to stay indoors any longer, especially withGreat Smoky Mountains National Parknext door. Newfound Gap Road brings us to the North Carolina–Tennessee border at an elevation of 5,046 feet, where the road intersects the Appalachian Trail. Just before setting off on the narrow path, we chat with backpackers who are embarking on a five-day loop on the AT. Dad swaps stories from his hiking glory days, and I learn for the first time that he has covered sections of the trail in seven states. Now he can count our few hours in Tennessee, too. Back in North Carolina, we follow curvy U.S. 19 northeast through Maggie Valley. A forgotten-by-time rural tableau unfolds: covered wooden bridges, a white clapboard Methodist church, crows soaring over knee-high cornfields, a lone woman tending a vegetable patch. We pass Hot Springs and pick our way in the dark, pausing near an underpass while Dad puzzles over the map. When a car pulls up close, we get tense—the New Yorker's instinct—but the driver just wants to help us find our way. It's almost midnight when we roll into Boone without a reservation;Holiday Inn Expressnever looked so welcoming. LODGING Holiday Inn Express 1943 Blowing Rock Rd., Boone, 888/733-6867, expressboone.com, from $89 FOOD Peter's Pancakes & Waffles 1384 Tsali Blvd., Cherokee, 828/497-5116, pecan pancakes $5 ACTIVITIES Museum of the Cherokee Indian 589 Tsali Blvd., Cherokee, 828/497-3481, cherokeemuseum.org, $9 Great Smoky Mountains National Park 865/436-1200, nps.gov/grsm, free SHOPPING Qualla Arts and Crafts Mutual 645 Tsali Blvd., Cherokee, 828/497-3103 DAY 4 Tweetsie Railroad, a Western-themed amusement park, has live shows and thrill rides, but a historic steam locomotive is the main attraction. Dad and I join the kids on the three-mile train ride, even though we've been warned about outlaws and Indians in these parts. A gun-toting cowgirl boards our cabin, and sure enough, it's a holdup! In nearby Blowing Rock, gently lilting music lures me across the town's too-cute Main Street toThe Dulcimer Shop. I bypass the wooden instruments for the patented Dulci-can, a one-string gizmo with a tin can at the end. My lame rendition of "Where Is Thumbkin?" wins the owner's smile of approval. No local musicians get more love than Sons of Ralph, a bluegrass-Cajun-rock band. At the start of the trip, Dad and I caught the band's gig atJack of the Woodpub, in Asheville, and got a CD autographed by Ralph Lewis, 81, vocalist, mandolin­player, and father of two band members. The songs have made a fitting soundtrack. As we head back to Asheville, our meandering adventure drawing to a close, we join the chorus: "I want to travel from town to town, I'll never settle and as long as I live, honey, you know I'm the ramblin' kind." ACTIVITIES Tweetsie Railroad 300 Tweetsie Railroad Ln., Blowing Rock, 800/526-5740, tweetsie.com, $27, open May 1 to Nov. 2, 2009 SHOPPING The Dulcimer Shop 1098 Main St., Blowing Rock, 828/295-3616, thedulcimershop.com FINDING THE WAY The launching-off point for this trip is a two-hour drive from the closest major airport, in Winston-Salem, N.C. It's handier to fly into Asheville Regional Airport, serviced by Continental, Delta, Northwest, and U.S. Airways. Roads in the area are beyond curvy, so distances take much longer than you might anticipate when looking at the map.

A Hybrid for a Day

Hybrid sales are surging these days, but renting one is still frustratingly difficult, mainly because of scarcity. Enterprise, the country's largest rental-car agency, owns 7,000 of the green rides—far more than its rivals—but that's still a skimpy 1 percent of its fleet. Here's how to increase your chances of scoring one: Surf high and low Kayak has the most extensive hybrid listings of all the travel booking and aggregator sites (it checks six rental agencies), but you will see the vehicles under "car options" only if there's one available at the location you specify. You can also search directly on the rental-agency sites, but you need to know where to look: Avis, for example, lists hybrids as "specialty cars"; Hertz groups them under its "green collection." Hold agencies to their word Hertz, Avis, and Budget say they guarantee hybrid reservations—but that guarantee goes out the window if the stock isn't there. If the car you want doesn't materialize as promised, try one of these tacks: Ask the desk agent to rent you another vehicle temporarily and to deliver the hybrid to you as soon as it's available. Or, request a coupon for a future rental as compensation. Agents won't give them out unbidden. Drive one off the lot No luck with the agencies? Go to a Toyota dealership instead. About 75 percent of the company's 1,200 outfits nationwide rent their cars, but not all of them have hybrids, so you'll have to call ahead to make sure there's one available at your destination. (Dealerships that participate in the program are listed at toyota.com/rental.) The hybrid rentals start at around $50 a day, which is similar to what the major agencies charge in certain cities. A bonus: Some dealers even have a free shuttle service to pick you up at the airport. Green savings Keep your speed in check on the highway: Driving fast burns more fuel and causes greater emissions. In a typical family sedan, every 10 miles per hour you drive above 60 costs you an extra 54¢ per gallon at the pump.