10 Smallest Bars in the World

We love to travel, but we'll be the first to admit that a vacation doesn't always turn out the way we anticipate. No one knows more about preparing for the unexpected than the world's most traveled people. Finding such folks wasn't hard—we started by visiting the Travelers' Century Club, which limits membership to people who have visited over 100 countries, and ended by calling on the Most Traveled People, whose checklist for members includes 872 locales, including "territories, autonomous regions, enclaves, geographically separated island groups, and major states and provinces." Before you start packing for your next adventure, consider their advice—you just might want to make room in your suitcase for a few of these items.   Jane Pringle: Visine eyedrops—you never know when you'll need them. Years spent traveling: 45 Countries visited: 47 Frequent-flier miles: too many to count! (46,000 at present) I make sure I have a small bottle of Visine eyedrops. Sometimes on long flights, or in strange places, the eyes get red and don't cope too well, and the Visine helps them relax. This was extremely useful when we were traveling in Bhutan and the spring pollen was in the air. Without my Visine, I would have suffered terribly.   Hinrich Kaiser: One word: DreamSack. Years spent traveling: 40 Countries visited: 78 Frequent-flier miles: over 1 million lifetime miles with United I like to travel with a silk DreamSack. It is an item I'm used to that feels comfortable and is lightweight. [Made by ecofriendly, Oregon-based Yala, the DreamSack is a cozy, person-size pocket with an attached cover for a pillow. It's made of 100 percent silk and folds up into a little bag for travel. From $62 at yaladesigns.com.]   Matthew Kleinosky: My water filter. It has saved my life. Years spent traveling: 35 Countries visited: 60 Frequent-flier miles: 95,000 with United; using 90,000 with Delta this week A water filter. I take it carry-on. One can get stuck on a plane, in an airport, or in between at any time. The filter probably saved my life in India, when I was stuck for most of a day, and bottled water had run out there. I also carry a flexible, roll-up, one-liter water bottle that I fill (and filter) once I get past security at every airport.   Harlan Sager: I won't leave home without my Swiss Army knife. Years spent traveling: 48 Countries visited: 41 Frequent-flier miles: 1,298,387 with multiple carriers My first aid kit and my Swiss Army knife (in checked bags): I've used the knife to open items, to eat, and for other useful functions. And I have applied a quick-freeze cold pack from my first aid kit to the ankle of a lady in North Korea, who had sprained it badly on a hike.   Don Parrish: A bed pillow is essential. Years spent traveling: 46 Countries visited: 191 Frequent-flier miles: 3,392,376 with United Five years ago, I started traveling with my bed pillow (in a light nylon case). This means that regardless of the type of bed I get in a hotel, my neck is comfortable, and I sleep better. In economy seats on long flights, I strap my pillow to my front using the seat belt. This way, I stay warm on cold planes and can rest my arms on my pillow, which helps me to sleep.   Keith Crocker: Earplugs and a sleep mask are key. Years spent traveling: 28 Countries visited: 80 Frequent-flier miles: about 300,000 lifetime miles with Alaska Airlines Earplugs and a sleep mask are essential. More often then not, I am seated by loud, unhappy children or someone who keeps opening the window shade throughout the flight, and I generally prefer to sleep as much as possible on long flights.   SEE MORE POPULAR CONTENT: 15 Places Every Kid Should See Before 15 Can You Spot the Travel Rip-Off? 10 Most Beautiful Waterfalls How to Be a Packing Genius

Setting off for a summer job on an Alaskan cruise ship in 2007, Mike Minarcek had modest expectations: to meet a fewnice people, make a few bucks, and put his university music degree to work. He had no idea what he was in for. For the Love of DiscoAs a drummer for the main theater's scripted show, I played the same 10 songs nearly every night, one terrible medley after the next. Occasionally, though, I'd work one of the clubs, where we had more say in the set list. The passengers' preferred dance numbers—"Shout," "The Electric Slide"—would have been annoying under any other circumstance, but we were so happy to get a break from the theater show's monotony that we'd gladly take any old request. A Boatful of Nudists Is Not as Sexy as You Might ThinkFor two weeks every summer, our cruise line hosted a nudists-only sail. Employees were offered the option to skip it and stay over at a hotel in Seattle instead. My curiosity got the better of me, so I agreed to stay on the ship. Almost immediately, I regretted it—especially after one guy bumped into me. Not pleasant. It's just plain bizarre seeing people do ordinary things in the buff: playing shuffleboard, scoping out the dinner buffet, doing the "Y.M.C.A." But eventually, I got so used to all the nudity that it seemed weird when clothed passengers arrived. Double-duty Blues"All hands on deck" is more than a figure of speech. You can fit only so many employees on a ship, so we musicians often had to pitch in on random tasks. During safety demonstrations, we had to stand out on deck for hours wearing life jackets, pointing at exits, and smiling like chimps. Not surprisingly, the clothing-optional cruise came with even more unpleasant chores. I respect people's right to go nude if they want, but not when it means I have to Saran-wrap an entire theater full of seats to protect their bare bums. (I pity the late shift that had to remove it after the show.) The Drum Set Takes the CakeAt the end of each cruise, passengers filed into the ship's ballroom for a fancy final dinner. The meal itself was wonderful, but for some reason, the powers that be decided to have the theater band "perform" during a portion of the dinner. Not play music, mind you—perform. In place of actual instruments, we were handed very large, cumbersome, fake instruments made of food. The trumpet was a strawberry on the end of a celery stalk (with gumdrop valves!), and my drum kit included a large wooden cake atop a tripod of bread sticks. Every week, we had to dance with these things on stage like idiots to a song so cheesy that I've blocked it from memory. That was always the night we musicians did our hardest drinking. Cabin FeverThere's a reason the quality of cruise-ship entertainment has dwindled in recent years. Quite frankly, the schedule stinks. You work every day, mostly all day. Your living quarters are like matchboxes, and there's only one tiny room where employees are allowed to socialize. It's called the Officers' Bar, and it's perpetually filled with smoke and sticky with spilled booze. There are always loud parties going on in there because, honestly, you start to lose it a bit when you’ve been at sea a while. At least I did. —Interview by Andrea Minarcek (Mike’s sister)   See more popular content: 10 Most Beautiful Waterfalls 15 Places Every Kid Should See Before 15 Our 10 Favorite Cherry Blossom Festivals How Well Do You Know Our National Parks?  

Some people celebrate a big occasion by heading to Paris for the weekend. Others book a Caribbean cruise. And then there's Harold and Ann Graff, a pair of retired schoolteachers who traveled from Flagstaff, Arizona, to northern Minnesota to spend Harold's 66th birthday at the million-acre Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, hoping, praying, and angling to get up-close and personal with a big black bear. The Graffs, joined by their daughter Karyn Graff and her husband Scott Weston, have signed up for a four-day Black Bear Field Study Course with biologist Lynn Rogers. They've each paid $1,500 to stay in rustic accommodations and spend their days tracking, observing, and photographing a bunch of wild new friends. They're not the only ones. This week's Field Study course has also drawn Chris Seeley, 44, and her partner Geoff Mead, 61, who flew in from England after seeing a 2010 BBC production featuring Lynn called Bearwalker of the Northwoods. "Literally the minute the program was over, I went to my computer and booked a ticket," Chris says. Having seen photos of Lynn (the male Jane Goodall of Minnesota) leading tours right up to the dens, I've also come with the hope of (safely) getting within hugging distance of one of the cubs. It might sound crazy or even dangerous to some, but the trip appealed to me right off the bat. (I'm also the kind of person who coos over bear videos on YouTube.) I arrive at the lodge—a simple brown wooden cabin set at the bend of an L-shaped lake, about a five-hour drive from Minneapolis—and find Lynn standing on the deck, absentmindedly gazing up at the sky. He's tall and lean and, at the moment, is taming his shock of white hair with a black plastic comb. Before I can say hello, he turns and grins. "Have you met June?" he asks and points to the trees. I hear her before I see her. Branches creak. Twigs crack. Then she lets out a sound like a sputtering carburetor. "Oh, she's saying hello!" Lynn exclaims. That she is. June the bear is peering down at me from 30 feet in the air, where she's clinging to the trunk of a thin pine. My stomach flips in fear. Lynn pats my back and points again, to a lower section of the tree. It's only then that I notice three chubby cubs, attached like fluffy, furry suction cups to the trunk. One of them is climbing slowly up to his mother, stretching his little front paws first and then scooching his back legs up like an inchworm. It's too much. I let out the same delighted squeal I used on Christmas morning when I was 3. Lynn grins. He knows he's got me now. At 72, Lynn emanates a surprisingly mischievous, schoolboy air. His slow drawl and booming laugh bring to mind The Dude, Jeff Bridges's famously laid-back character in The Big Lebowski (minus the pot-smoking, plus a Ph.D.). Karyn and Scott—who run a tae kwon do studio in Pittsburgh and have taken the course once already—arrive and greet June by name. "I don't know anywhere else you can have this kind of interaction with bears," Karyn says. "If you only live once, how do you really want to spend your money and time? This is priceless." By nightfall, the lodge's deck is swarming with bears. Everyone crowds into the living room and watches as two big males—each easily 500 pounds or more—vacuum up mixed nuts, dates, and sunflower seeds in a trough just outside a set of tall bay windows. "You always hear that feeding bears makes them lazy or that they'll forget how to forage naturally," Lynn tells me, as he jots down observations in a notebook. "But that's nonsense. Even with these feeding stations here, we track the bears and see that they still prefer to forage for ants when they can. This is just to supplement their diet." The practice is controversial, but Lynn says complaints about bears digging in locals' trash cans dropped after he started feeding them. That night, my fear gives way to awe as I watch a male dine at the trough. His head is as big as a boulder, stuck on the end of a couch-size mass. I climb up onto the cushioned window seat to get a closer look and soon fall asleep there, with my head resting against the glass.  Story continued on second page... I wake up before sunrise at the sound of a loon calling, and take the opportunity to make use of one of the camp's canoes. As I paddle the lake, the sun rises and slowly filters light across the water. That afternoon, and every afternoon for the next few days, we hike a few easy miles into the woods to track the dozen or so bears and cubs that Lynn has collared. Reminding us to keep our distance until the animals recognize him, Lynn steps ahead and calls, "It's me, bear, it's me." In the woods, far away from the lodge, the bears are more cautious, but when it's apparent we don't intend to do anything more than observe them, they lose interest and go on about their business. That's when it gets fun. I find a spot to sit on the carpet of sweet fern and spend whole afternoons watching a mom nurse her three cubs. It's enthralling. At one point, one of the cubs crawls so close, I can't resist. I put my hand out to see what he'll do, and he leans in a bit more—just as curious as I am. I touch his fur for an instant and am shocked by how soft and downy it is—a sensation I'll never forget.   SEE MORE POPULAR CONTENT: 16 Awe-Inspiring American Monuments 30 Spectacular Images of Our Nation's Parks How to Score Tickets to the 2012 Summer Olympics 15 Places Every Kid Should See Before 15

Water BottleA cut above its bulky, hard-plastic competition, Vapur's 14-ounce, BPA-free Anti-Bottle stands upright when full and collapses to about the size of a ChapStick tube when empty. Bonus: These sturdy, stain-resistant canteens are freezer- and (top-rack) dishwasher-safe. vapur.us, $16 for two. MapNothing screams tourist like awkwardly wrestling a paper street guide in public. Rand McNally's 7.5" x 11.5" microfiber fabMAPS for 20 U.S. destinations provide tear-proof, waterproof toughness and incomparable ease of use. Simply unfurl, scrunch up, and repeat-no folding necessary. amazon.com, $6. ToteWhen it comes to choosing a carry-on, functionality comes first-but that doesn't mean you want to haul the same heavy-duty bag on your entire trip. Enter Riesenthel's sling-shaped Mini Maxi Ladyshopper, a surprisingly polished purse that comes in eight crisp colors and folds out of a flat, 6" pouch. touchofeurope.net, $19. Rain JacketConsider this hooded nylon Pack Windbreaker from SCOTTE-VEST a triple-threat travel pick. Beyond warding off bad weather, it packs 17 specialized pockets, including gadget holders with clear, touchscreen-friendly panels. The coat also folds into an 8" x 11" portable pillow. scottevest.com, $75. KeyboardTired of tapping out e-mails on a netbook's tiny keys? The 17.5" inland Pro Foldable Black USB Keyboard weighs just under a pound, rolls up to roughly the size of a soda can, and withstands most spills, thanks to its rugged, water-resistant silicone. Take that, tray-table turbulence. amazon.com, $20. Multitasking TeddyLike Superman in a phone booth, Frédéric Perigot's Bear Tote Bag transforms in an instant to solve two crucial travel problems. In stuffed-animal form, it distracts a fussy kid who is tired of his other toys; unpacked to form a 13.5" x 17.5" nylon tote, it's a lightweight way to transport a surplus of souvenirs. aplusrstore.com, $36.