25 Reasons We Love Fort Worth

My sister and I spent our formative travel experiences together, most of which involved long family RV trips around the western U.S. But while I got bit by the travel bug, even becoming the lucky editor of this magazine, Molly never traveled much. She found plenty of excitement in getting married, moving across the country (and back), having two kids, and starting a teaching career. For her 40th birthday, I thought it'd be fun to take her somewhere. After all, the only times she had left the U.S. were on a graduation cruise to Ensenada and a family drive to Vancouver. "Think about where you'd like to go!" I e-mailed her. "London? Iceland? Tokyo?" I was feeling like Brother of the Year. A few days later, she e-mailed her choice. I took a few deep breaths, and pointed out that while, yes, it was her birthday, and yes, I'd said she could choose the destination, the idea was to go somewhere she'd never been--basically, anywhere but Las Vegas. Molly thought about it some more and realized she was intimidated by the unknown: different languages, passport bureaucracy, foreign currency, and so on. She said she needed to get over her fear, and that we could go to Europe. She'd let me decide exactly where. I chose Amsterdam because it's so easy to navigate, making it the perfect place to dip a toe in--besides, it's where I went on my first trip to Europe. And then we'd go to Paris, because it's Paris. If you were to ask her about the experience now, a few months after the trip, she'd probably say that it was discombobulating being the student, not the teacher--let alone having her little brother be the one in charge. For six days, I was a cross between George Patton and Napoleon Bonaparte. We didn't just see Amsterdam and Paris: We conquered them. Any little brother worth his salt torments his sister long after he should've stopped. In that spirit, here, for her review, are my 11 lessons on how to explore a city. Do what you want to do, not what everyone says you should do. The more I travel, the less interesting I find the official attractions, preferring spots that feel more alive. But I knew Molly's friends would think me a heretic if we didn't go to the Van Gogh Museum and the Red Light District, Sacré-Coeur and the Eiffel Tower. And anyway, I like some of that stuff--I'm a total sucker for the Eiffel Tower light show that happens nightly on the hour. I just don't want to spend my whole trip checking things off someone else's list. My sister and I, happily, share a gene that makes us enjoy a museum in half the time others do. (We were probably the only people at Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum who were relieved that the collection had been condensed so the building can be renovated; it'll be back to full size in 2011.) If we're interested, we dawdle; if not, we bail. We also spent little time at the Van Gogh Museum, the Louvre, and the Centre Pompidou, where the exhibits couldn't compete with the escalators. Instead, focus on what you like. After leaving the hot, crowded Louvre, we found the Tuileries gardens to be a relief. As was the Musée de l'Orangerie, where the fact that we could see everything in one visit--including Monet's Water Lilies--somehow made us want to. My favorite Paris museums, though, were devoted to a single artist: the Picasso Museum; the Rodin Museum, where I suffered acute real-estate envy, and where one sculpture, Eternal Idol, was so sexy I blushed; and the Atelier Brancusi, in a building right outside the Pompidou. All I want for Christmas is a mini Brancusi to use as a paperweight. Molly, it turns out, is more engaged by attractions that show how people used to live--such as Amsterdam's Museum Van Loon. Willem van Loon cofounded the Dutch East India Company in 1602 and grew very rich; the Van Loon family now opens its canal house to visitors who want a glimpse of 18th- and 19th-century life. We both were moved by the Anne Frank House; it helped that we went at 7 p.m. on a Sunday, when there was no line and few visitors (it's open until at least 9 p.m. from mid-March to mid-September). Molly liked the Museum of Bags and Purses much more than I did. It had previously been in the suburbs, but just reopened in a 1664 canal mansion. One purse on display--and available in the gift shop--had a trompe l'oeil impression of a revolver on it. We agreed it wasn't ideal for a teacher. Wander! I love not having a clue where I'm going; if I stumble on something good, I feel like I discovered it. When we rented bikes from Bike City and rode to the Eastern Docklands and beyond, we really got off the guidebook grid. It was refreshing to reach areas we'd never have walked to, even when there wasn't much there, and also to move at a different pace. Pay attention to how things are different. Embracing cultural differences--while they still exist--is what sets travelers apart from tourists. We got a kick out of how Dutch street sweepers use brooms made with twigs (in Paris, the twigs are neon-green plastic). In Amsterdam, we had mayonnaise on the superb fries at Vlaams Frites Huis, and at a supermarket, we bought chocolate sprinkles for Molly's kids to put on their toast. At our hotel, 't Hotel, we ate cold cuts and cheese for breakfast, commiserated about those half-panels of glass Europeans use in showers, and thought of Anne Frank every time we walked up the canal house's staircase--it was a "leg breaker," to use Frank's phrase. Indulge in some familiarity when you need it. In Paris, when Molly said she wanted to go to a Starbucks, I blanched--but I gave in. Being in an unfamiliar culture for a week can be taxing, and sometimes we all need a break. In fact, that may be why many of us who don't follow art in our daily lives troop to museums when we travel. Museums are comfortable; you know more or less the experience you're going to get. That may also be why we went twice to the slick new Amsterdam wine bar Vyne--it felt like a place back home in the States. (Both times, the waitress made a point of explaining that the bar is not for beer lovers.) Do lots of advance research. I ask friends, acquaintances, coworkers, and anyone else I know for recommendations; in Amsterdam, that's how we came to eat croquette sandwiches at Eetsalon Van Dobben, a retro lunch counter, and to devour the caramely stroopwafels warm from a griddle at the Albert Cuypmarkt, a street market in De Pijp. And whenever I read about someplace that sounds appealing, I rip (or print) the page out and save it. My Paris file turned up some good stuff. Food blogger Clotilde Dusoulier raved about Rose Bakery, in Montmartre. It's delightfully casual, with Brita water pitchers on each table and an old fridge in the dining room. I still regret not buying a carrot cake on the way out. The U.K. version of Condé Nast Traveller, meanwhile, praised the rustic charms of Les Vivres, a little café and shop about a 10-minute walk from Rose Bakery. The strawberry jam has ruined American jam for me. (Editor's note: Les Vivres has since closed.) And we were right to follow the lead of The New York Times' Mark Bittman, who wrote that he has a falafel sandwich at L'As du Fallafel whenever he's in town. If you don't obsessively collect travel info, you can get by with Pudlo Paris, a guide that only became available in English in June. I knew that Gilles Pudlowski and I would get along when he had good things to say about Chez Michel, out near the Gare du Nord. It has delicious seafood and an easygoing atmosphere: When Molly ordered the cheese, the waitress set a tray on the table and let her eat as much as she pleased. Among the new spots that Pudlo steered us to was Les Papilles, a wine shop in the Latin Quarter that doubles as a restaurant. The €31 prix fixe dinner included a tureen of velvety cold leek soup; veal with spring vegetables; goat cheese with a tapenade crouton; and a parfait of strawberries, mascarpone, and pistachios. For wine, you buy a bottle off the shelves and pay a €7 corkage fee. Learn to recognize a winner. When in doubt, I follow the locals--especially if they seem like people I'd want to hang out with. While having a beer outside Café Brandon, we noticed the line growing at Da Portare Via next door. People were buying pizzas and either eating them at Café Brandon or sitting next to the canal. We did the same, and though you'd never go to Amsterdam for the pizza, it was a perfect evening. For fancier meals, I look for certain signs. We were walking around the Jordaan when the neighborhood turned a little bourgeois. At Bordewijk, there was one good omen after another: no English menu posted outside; a stylish room; staffers working in the kitchen at 2 p.m.; someone's name (it turned out to be chef/owner Wil Demandt) on the business card. We justified the cost by celebrating Molly's birthday there. We had an extraordinary dinner. Demandt personally trans­lated the entire menu for us--it was early in the season, so he hadn't written the English version yet. Molly got to taste all sorts of new things, including caviar, truffles, and at least one food she had never wanted to try (an amuse bouche of herring with jenever cream). Don't stress out when you look like an idiot. At Hôtel de la Bretonnerie, in the Marais, our safe was broken, and we had to ask the snotty hotel clerk to send someone to fix it. So when we couldn't turn the shower on, we were convinced it was broken, too. We bugged the clerk again, and two workers came up. One flipped a little lever, and water streamed out of the shower. He looked very sad for me, in that way that only French people know how to do. When it comes to food, buy local. But when it comes to souvenirs, buy what you love. One morning, walking around the Left Bank, we picked up a baguette at Gérard Mulot, cheese at Barthélemy (I managed to communicate that we needed cheeses that wouldn't require a knife), some of the heavenly macaroons from Ladurée, and apples and Evian from La Grande Epicerie at Le Bon Marché. We picnicked at Jardin du Luxembourg, a deeply satisfying lunch. Our souvenirs, however, were from everywhere but Paris and Amsterdam: trifles from Japan-based Muji; Syrian soap from Semo, for our mom; a silver dog figurine that was probably cast in China; a South Korean pop-up birthday card from the Marais outpost of Bonton. In Amsterdam, we purchased Victorian paper masks from London at Mechanisch Speelgoed, a toy store, and, at some shop in Amsterdam's Nine Streets area, paper cups with noses printed on the sides--so when you drink, you appear to have a different nose. The cups were made in Rhode Island. It might be years before I get to Rhode Island. Take time to just relax. I ran us hard; we moved like a presidential candidate in primary season. And looking back, I think that was a mistake. Some of our best times were when we just sat for a while--in our room at 't Hotel, listening to the birds chirp in the trees or a horse clip-clop down the street; at a canal-side table at Spanjer & Van Twist, watching a woman with long red hair drive off in a tiny car with a red rose in the antenna's spot; in Le Flore en L'Ile, on Île St.-Louis, waiting out a thunderstorm over espresso and Berthillon chocolate ice cream. When you have a job and a husband and two kids, maybe you don't want to run, run, run around a foreign city. Accept your mistakes and move on. Every now and then I convinced myself that Molly needed to do things travelers are supposed to do, like eat pancakes in Holland. We should've turned around as soon as we heard "Hotel California" coming from the speakers. I wish we'd skipped Amsterdam's flower market, also a tourist trap. We should've eaten at one of the many Surinamese restaurants near Albert Cuypmarkt instead of the Indonesian place we ended up at. (I don't know what they eat in Suriname, but I'm curious.) I'm still not sure why we didn't take boat tours of both cities, and I wish I'd handed Molly a map and told her to spend a few hours exploring Paris on her own--because the best way to grow comfortable as a traveler is to go solo. All you can do is promise yourself that you won't screw up the same way next time. When I asked Molly if there'd be a next time, she said, "Oh, yes. But it won't be as much fun without you." And then she laughed--in that way that only big sisters know how to do. AMSTERDAM Transportation Bike City Bloemgracht 68-70, 011-31/20-626-3721, bikecity.nl, day rental from $14 Lodging 't Hotel Lelie­gracht 18, 011-31/20-422-2741, thotel.nl, from $140 Food Vlaams Frites Huis Voetboog­straat 33, 011-31/20-624-6075, fries $2.50 Eetsalon Van Dobben Korte Reguliers­dwarsstraat 5, 011-31/20-624-4200, sandwich $3 Da Portare Via Leliegracht 34, no phone, pizza from $11 Bordewijk Noordermarkt 7, 011-31/20-624-3899, bordewijk.nl, dinner menu $54 Spanjer & Van Twist Leliegracht 60, 011-31/20-639-0109, salad $11 Shopping Mechanisch Speelgoed Westerstraat 67, 011-31/20-638-1680 Nightlife Vyne Prinsengracht 411, 011-31/20-344-6408, vyne.nl, glass from $8 Café Brandon Keizersgracht 157, no phone, beer $3 Activities Rijksmuseum 011-31/20-674-7000, rijksmuseum.nl, $14 Museum Van Loon Keizersgracht 672, 011-31/20-624-5255, museumvanloon.nl, $8.50, closed Tues. Anne Frank House Prinsengracht 267, 011-31/20-556-7100, annefrank.org, $10.50 Museum of Bags and Purses Herengracht 573, 011-31/20-524-6452, tassenmuseum.nl, $9 Albert Cuypmarkt Albert Cuypstraat, bet. Ferdinand Bolstraat and Van Woustraat, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., closed Sun. PARIS Lodging Hôtel de la Bretonnerie 22 rue Sainte Croix de la Bretonnerie, 011-33/1-48-87-77-63, bretonnerie.com, from $175 Food Rose Bakery 46 rue des Martyrs, 011-33/1-42-82-12-80, quiche $7 Les Vivres 28 rue Pétrelle, 011-33/1-42-80-26-10, strawberry jam $7 (Editor's note: Les Vivres has closed since publication of this article.) L'As du Fallafel 34 rue des Rosiers, 011-33/1-48-87-63-60, sandwich $6, closed Sat. Les Papilles 30 rue Gay-Lussac, 011-33/1-43-25-20-79, dinner $44 Gérard Mulot 76 rue de Seine, 011-33/1-43-26-85-77, gerardmulot.com, baguette $1.50 Barthélemy 51 rue de Grenelle, 011-33/1-45-48-56-75 Ladurée 21 rue Bonaparte, 011-33/1-44-07-64-87, laduree.fr (other locations), box of six macaroons $10 La Grande Epicerie 38 rue de Sèvres, 011-33/1-44-39-81-00, lagrandeepicerie.fr Le Flore en L'Ile 42 quai d'Orléans, Île St.-Louis, 011-33/1-43-29-88-27, ice cream $11 Chez Michel 10 rue de Belzunce, 011-33/1-44-53-06-20, three-course dinner $42, closed Sat. and Sun. Shopping Muji 47 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 011-33/1-49-96-41-41, muji.fr (other locations) Semo 8 rue de Poissy, 011-33/1-46-07-93-10, astan.com/semo Bonton 118 rue Vieille du Temple, 011-33/1-42-72-34-69, bonton.fr (other locations) Activities Musée de l'Orangerie Jardin des Tuileries, 011-33/1-44-77-80-07, musee-orangerie.fr, $9, closed Tues. Picasso Museum 5 rue de Thorigny, 011-33/1-42-71-25-21, musee-picasso.fr, $11, closed Tues. Rodin Museum 79 rue de Varenne, 011-33/1-44-18-61-10, musee-rodin.fr, $8, closed Mon. Atelier Brancusi Centre Pompidou, 011-33/1-44-78-12-33, centrepompidou.fr, free, 2 p.m. to 6 p.m., closed Tues. Resources Pudlo Paris 2007-2008 by Gilles Pudlowski (The Little Bookroom), $20

In the Missing Persons song "Walking in L.A.," the punch line is that nobody actually walks in L.A. (not even policemen or schoolchildren, according to the band). The city has a rep for being notoriously car-centric—and that's something the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority hopes to change. The agency sponsors a rotating series of artwork, including posters by local artists depicting L.A. neighborhoods, to liven up Metro stations and buses. On weekends, volunteer docents lead free walking tours that cover four or five stations in about two hours. Groups meet at 10 a.m., and reservations aren't necessary. "The tour is a way that we try to get people to learn about the system and become good ambassadors for public transportation in L.A.," says Maya Emsden, deputy executive officer of Metro Creative Services. "A lot of people across the country don't realize that we have rail stations." Participants are rewarded with a day pass (which usually costs $5) that can be used for the Metro and the bus system. Find details about the program by visiting metro.net, and use these rail and bus maps to navigate the city, car-free. Related Stories: • Maps: Where Celebrities Hang Out in L.A. and N.Y.C. • Los Angeles Snap Guide • Top Shops in Venice Beach, Calif.

To get your creative juices flow, here are three pitches that caught our eye: Ever since childhood I've gravitated toward trees. My sense of exploration demanded that I take hold of Grandpa's grandest oaks—and Grandpa had some of the finest in Jersey—and climb toward the heavens 'til Mom's voice summoned me down. (Alas, but a few precious moments up in the trees.) I've recently learned of the unique form of accommodation known as tree hotels, many of which can be found in the Pacific Northwest, where the trees are ever-so majestic... I'd like to bed down in (and write about) these hotels/B&Bs of the Pacific Northwest. The story would be fun, insightful, and would beckon even wary mothers out of the woodwork—or should I say into the woodwork? —Jeremy Gates of Pittsburgh, Pa. When most people think about Iceland, they think of a place that's dark, cold, and barren. I thought the same thing at first, until I saw pictures and was mesmerized. The beauty and ruggedness of the landscape fascinated me and, as an amateur photographer, I've been driven ever since to explore the mountains, lava flows, glaciers, and waterfalls with my lens and to show this beauty to others. The more I researched Iceland, the more exciting the country seemed. This land of perpetual sunlight in summer and shimmering Northern Lights in winter has something for everyone: lots of outdoor activities (including hiking, skiing, and bird and whale watching), a vibrant nightlife, and exciting festivals (who wouldn't want to go to the Midwinter Feast and try rotten shark meat?). Although the interior of the island can only be accessed in summer, the road encircling Iceland is open year-round and allows visitors to explore all of the island's populated areas and many of nature s treasures (including hot springs, volcanoes, and Europe's largest glacier). I'm the perfect person to write about Iceland. I'm an avid traveler and photographer. I've done the usual trips to Italy, Spain, and France, but I really love traveling to unique places many people have never heard of, let alone traveled to. I enjoy learning about local cultures and taking unique pictures that capture the essence of a country. I would love the opportunity to discover Iceland and to share the experience with your readers. —Jennifer Sabo of Tuckerton, N.J. Waiting in line at Disneyland or taking a cruise with Mickey and Donald isn't our style of fun. We're also not the family who parachutes out of a plane over some a remote jungle to inoculate natives over Easter break. We're just your average family of four looking for creative ways to bond over new cultural experiences. We've cruised through Baja and the Mexican Riviera on a giant floating picnic basket. We've stuffed ourselves with crab in the Bay Area. We've left our DNA in the bellies of the High Sierra mosquitoes. We're on a first-name basis with Shamu and her family in San Diego. And of course we've captured the full experience of Danish culture in Solvang. If you can drive or cruise there and back in seven days or less, we've done it. So what's left for these world travelers? Well... the world. We've been blessed with two children who are willing to eat more than chicken nuggets and French fries, and it's time for us all to discover new and exciting places. So how about unleashing this unique family of wannabe adventurers on the world? We'll go anywhere and we'll try anything. We've been searching for the appropriate time to wish others a Mele Kalikimaka, or we'd love to return to our roots in Germany. We're hot on the idea of conducting a salsa study of South America, or we're up for comparing apples to apples in Washington. I'm an amateur photographer, and my husband is a great cook who loves to shop for ingredients everywhere we go. Our kids really do say the darnedest things and they're great little laid-back travelers. So, that's us in a nutshell. By the way, we actually are willing to jump from a plane over a remote jungle to inoculate natives over Easter break. If that's what you're looking for... we're that flexible. —Amy Koller of Yucaipa, Calif. For your own chance to be a travel writer, click here to pitch a story idea. Find out about other ways to contribute to our anniversary issue by clicking here!

Here are two examples of the kind of information we're looking for: My husband and I took one of the 40 Best trips with the help of Tatra Travel in Brooklyn. We visited Prague, Cesky Krumlov, and Karlovy Vary and enjoyed it all very much. I was a bit wary at first, traveling to Brooklyn's Tatra Office, but it could not have turned out better and I'd heartily recommend them. Prague was interesting and Cesky Krumlov was a jewel to discover. Karlovy Vary (from Queen Latifah's "Last Holiday") was absolutely beautiful and now rivals Baden Baden as my favorite spa town! —Rosemary Volmar, Teaneck, N.J. A couple of years ago you listed the top travel companies for different areas. At the time, I was planning a trip to Bali, and I want to thank you for putting Escapes Unlimited in your magazine. I've now used the company twice to go to back Bali and I give them an A+ for cost, planning, and overall customer service. So having just come back from another great 19-day vacation (Bali/Beijing) put together by Jane at Escapes Unlimited, I wanted to say thank you. —Eric Weisenberger, Ankeny, Iowa To share your own experience, please drop us a line at Letters@BudgetTravel.com saying where (and when) you went, with which tour operator, and what it was like. Find out about other ways to contribute to our anniversary issue by clicking here!