Visit Boston’s MFA
Over the past decade, pundits have criticized Malcolm Rogers, the Director of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, for sending priceless Monets to the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas and staging questionable exhibitions like the display of Ralph Lauren’s sports cars, as a veiled attempt to raise money for the museum’s expansion. The launch of Rogers’ monumental endeavor, the $504 million Art of the Americas Wing in November 2010 has silenced most critics and cements Rogers’ legacy. Foster + Partners designed a 4-story building with adjoining pavilions on either side to house the 53 new galleries. Walk into the soaring glass-enclosed courtyard, where trees and holly bushes have been planted just outside its windows to mirror Frederick Law Olmsted’s Emerald Necklace. Then journey through three millennia of North, South, and Central American works, from pre-Colombian gold on the Court Level to the paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe on the top floor. Highlights include the galleries devoted to the works of John Singer Sargent and John Singleton Copley, and the Roswell Gleason parlor and dining room, two mid-19th century period rooms taken intact from a house in nearby Dorchester and never displayed to the public before.
Staring in late May, I’ve been to Miami, Bermuda, DC, the entirety of the New England coast, Chicago, Banff, Jasper, Vancouver, and Saltspring Island. All great trips that have led or will lead to travel articles. But I can’t say I was relaxed on those jaunts. I usually had a notebook in hand researching each destination. On the 16-day Canadian Rockies journey with the family, we had to transfer to 7 different hotels and traveled by car, train, ferry, and plane. Tomorrow I head to Lake George to see the whole Jermanok clan, including my dad, sister, brother, nieces, and nephews. This is a special retreat for me; a 30-mile long lake nestled in the Adirondacks that I learned to sail even before I learned to walk. Not having to worry about an assignment to write, I can pick up my Schenectady Gazette at the local grocery, grab a cup of Joe, and head back to the docks of our cottage to chill. If I’m a feeling a bit hungry in the morning, I’ll drive to Lone Bull for a huge stack of pancakes. Then it’s off to Goony Golf for a round of miniature golf, a sea kayak paddle around the Sagamore, or playing on the high ropes course of Adirondak Extreme. The finest vacation is often the one you return to each year, not having to worry about new sites to see or restaurants to try. Things rarely change on the shores of Lake George and that’s exactly the way I love it. 
Big news from the world of active travel this week with the announcement that 
In 1990, I left my job as a broker in Manhattan, booked an open-ended ticket to the South Pacific, New Zealand, and Australia, and wrote my first travel story, “Dining with the Descendants of Cannibals on a Fijian Island” for the Miami Herald. It would prove to be start of a career where I would write more than 1500 stories (over 300 articles for the Boston Globe alone) and visit over 80 countries. Then the recession hit. I lost more than half my editors in 2008/2009 as magazines folded and newspapers either eliminated or greatly reduced their travel sections. Wanting to utilize my travel expertise, I convinced my wife to join me in a business venture and become an accredited travel agent. 
Massachusetts might border the ocean, but it’s not until you drive the interior of this state on backcountry roads that you really appreciate the abundance of water. I woke up at