North Korea puts on a show

This week, Clotilde Dusoulier tours the U.S. to promote her cookbook Chocolate & Zucchini. Mademoiselle Dusoulier won fame and fortune by creating a food blog (see here). And she won our hearts in 2005 with her Budget Travel article "My Paris is Better than Yours" Find out if she'll be visiting your city by clicking here. Meanwhile, on June 6, Dusoulier will answer your questions about Paris and food in a live online chat at BudgetTravel.com.

Reader Stephanie Johnson of Manhattan Beach, Calif., recently shared with us a fascinating thrill she has experienced... On my most recent trip to New Zealand, I went on an adventure tour with my sister and a group of American college students. Our two-week tour dropped us in Waitomo, New Zealand, to go "Black Water Rafting." I had no idea what this activity could possibly entail, but I was up for the challenge. First, we practiced abseiling, which is like repelling, or roping down. Then we were off to a small platform from which we abseiled to underground caves. Out of the eight of us, I was number five. I slowly stepped off the platform and was completely supported by a rope and a sling. This was it. I lowered myself toward complete darkness through a tight tunnel, the end of which I could not see. Friends at the bottom cheered when I arrived underground. </p> <p> </p> <p>_uacct = "UA-1844627-1";</p> <p>urchinTracker();</p> <p> The next step was to ride on a zipline through the first cave. Once again, there was no visibility, but it was a thrilling ride to an unknown destination. Our guides pulled out two inner tubes. Those inner tubes would soon be the only thing holding us together and afloat. We were instructed to place the inner tubes on our behinds and jump off the ledge into the water. Not knowing how far down it was, we all hesitated, but we knew this would be the only way out. When we splashed into the water below, we weren't sure how we would move though the caves. We connected our tubes and were pulled by our guides. This was black water rafting! As we laid back and looked toward what would be the sky, we saw millions of tiny bright lights. Outside the sun was shining, but in the caves, the glowworms created a beautiful night sky of twinkling stars. We enjoyed the relaxing ride, but soon our bodies and minds would be put to the test. We waded through cold, dark water to the base of a gorgeous waterfall whose source was an above-ground spring. Our guides informed us that this would be the only way to get out. We would be challenged to climb up a series of three waterfalls in order to see the sunlight. There would be rushing water, wet rocks, tight spaces, and unexpected physical and mental challenges. I did my best. When I saw daylight, I knew I was close and I pushed ahead, making my way toward the last hurdle. I emerged from the caves with the highest feeling of accomplishment. This achievement deserved celebration, but first, we needed breakfast. To learn more about black water rafting in New Zealand, click here. You may also want to see our 2007 Cool Thrills List, complete with videos of selected thrills. (Note: Stephanie's email was edited for publication.)

Melissa Kronenthal, who runs the blog Traveler's Lunchbox, recently visited Morocco. Here, she shares an anecdote from her trip and offers an insight into that country's culture. By the time we arrived at our riad, it was early evening in Marrakesh and we were starving. We were desperate to drop our bags as quickly as possible and set out in search of dinner, but the riad manager, Omar, had other ideas. He assured us we couldn't leave without first accepting some traditional Moroccan hospitality. "Our custom in Morocco is to offer all guests some refreshment," he said, escorting us up to the riad's expansive roof terrace, "and customary for all guests to accept it." "Alright," we acquiesced, certainly not keen to start our trip by contravening tradition, "what kind of refreshment do you offer?" "A glass of whiskey berbere, naturally," he said with a grand gesture, and disappeared. "Uh, okay," we said exchanging confused looks. Wasn't it awfully risqué to offer alcohol in a Muslim country, particularly with the mosque next door in plain sight? But before we could ponder the mystery further Omar was back, carrying a worn steel tray, two small glasses, and an ornate silver teapot. Of course, we should have guessed - whiskey berbere is nothing other than the tongue-in-cheek name for mint tea. The joke may have been casual, but the analogy isn't actually so farfetched, as we would soon discover. Like whiskey in Scotland, mint tea isn't a quaint tourist gimmick - it's a national obsession. Hot, sweet, and bracingly bitter, it punctuates Moroccan life like clockwork: mint tea to wake up, mint tea with pastries in the afternoon, mint tea to round out every meal. It's served with panache, poured from a great height out of bulbous silver pots into glasses barely bigger than thimbles; the aeration is important for developing the flavor, we were told, and the size of the glasses insures your tea will never get cold (and makes it easier to down the three obligatory cups that tradition dictates, I imagine). In a country where alcohol is forbidden and water is often of questionable quality, it's a beverage that has acquired tremendous practical and symbolic value, functioning as digestive aid, pick-me-up, negotiation facilitator and simple sustenance. I wouldn't be surprised if Moroccans have it running through their veins instead of blood. As we sat there in the growing twilight, sipping our tea and listening to the call to prayer reverberate across the rooftops, it seemed about as perfect a first taste of the country as we could have asked for. You can read more about Melissa's trip to Morocco by clicking here. For Budget Travel's advice on visiting Morocco and the Sahara Desert, click here.

When one of our readers, Eric Tennen, recently went on vacation in Rotorua, New Zealand, he tried out a new thrill called the Zorb. As you see here, Eric was strapped into a small spherical chamber, which is cushioned by two feet of air inside a larger inflated ball.The ball was then pushed down the hill. Eric says, "It sounds simple, but it is scary, nauseating, and thrilling all at the same time. The hill itself is not entirely smooth, and in addition to rolling, it bounces, too. The scariest part is that you are by yourself, and once the ball starts rolling, there is no escape. While it is quicker than a roller coaster, it is much more intense because the speed and twists are magnified."Later this year, the Zorb will come to American shores, debuting at a theme park in Pigeon Forge, Tenn., near the Dollywood amusement park. For Eric, the cost of the ride in New Zealand was about $30. If you can't wait and need to Zorb right now, you can find the ride in roughly a dozen countries, including Argentina and Hungary. Find a list of locations here.