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Favorite Fall Foliage Walks In and Around Boston, Walden Pond

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived,” wrote Henry David Thoreau in his best known work, Walden. Thoreau ventured to the woods with ax in tow in March 1845 to build his historic hut. Never would this modest writer imagine what an impact his philosophical musings would have on the world 160 years later. For two years, two months, and two days, Thoreau lived alone in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in his rustic abode built near the shores of Walden Pond in Concord.  While a replica of the hut only exists now, the woods make for a wonderful ramble, especially in mid-October with the maples aflame. 

 

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Quebec’s Winter Carnival

I just finished a story on winter carnivals in North America. One of the finest is in Quebec City, where for 17 days, the party never stops. More than one million people descend upon the fortified city to cheer on the competition in Le Grande Virée, a dogsled race that cruises through the heart of the historic Old City, or watch paddlers sprint across the turgid waters of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The French-flavored festivities continue with tours of the Ice Palace, a giant medieval castle constructed of pure crystalline water, parades, snow sculpture contests, inner tube sled rides, dancing to live music, and late night jaunts to heated tents to sample the potent drink called Caribou, made of whiskey, red wine, and maple syrup. One swig of this and you might be running naked through the snowfields.

While in Quebec City, spend a memorable night 30 minutes outside of town at North America’s only ice hotel, Hotel de Glace. 32 new rooms are created each year out of 12,000 tons of snow and 400 tons of ice, along with an Absolut ice bar, Jacuzzis, and a dance club. Bring those long johns. Temperature inside is a mere 27 degrees Fahrenheit.  
 

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How to Create a Yearlong Itinerary

Yes, we’re happy to offer advice on a romantic river cruise in Europe or a family multisport adventure to Costa Rica, but now and then we get requests from clients that offer real challenges in the world of travel and thus get us very excited. Recently a middle-aged couple from Boston signed up as members of ActiveTravels and wanted our help to create a round-the-world epic yearlong journey for their sabbatical. We spent an hour on the phone with them on Monday night and I spent a good chunk of yesterday trying to figure out the major legs of their flights. It’s still not ironed out, but it will go something like this: Boston-Lima-La Paz-Quito-Bogota-San Fran-Honolulu-Tahiti-Auckland-Sydney. From Sydney, they’ll take affordable flights across Australia and Southeast Asia, most likely Sydney-Melbourne-Perth-Bali-Kuala Lumpur-Bangkok-Hanoi-Hong Kong-Shanghai. But once they reach Sydney, they’re off the grid, so to speak, booking their own short and affordable flights until they reach China. This way, they have some spontaneity built into their itinerary and if they want to spend two weeks in Bali instead of one, so be it. I have to fit Tibet in there somewhere, then it’s off to Tokyo-New Delhi-Amsterdam-Boston. In Europe and India, they’ll be taking short affordable flights all over the continent, similar to SE Asia. Then it’s back home on this September to September romp. 
 
Once we book the major international flights, we’ll sink our teeth into the itinerary, booking all their requests and our suggestions, including a weeklong cruise in the Galapagos, hiking in Tibet, and stays in ashrams in India. The hard part is estimating the amount of time to spend in each locale. Sure, you can get a good taste of Australia in three weeks, but it’s nice to double that time and include Tasmania, Broome, the Kimberley, and Kakadu National Park. But every add-on leads to an omission further down the road, so it becomes a great big balancing act. One that I cherish like a kid in a candy store. 
 
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Don’t Forget About Beaufort

Yesterday, I discussed Montage Palmetto Bluff, the upscale resort brand’s only East Coast property. A mere 45-minute drive north of the Montage on Route 170 is another gem of the South Carolina Lowcountry, the charming town of Beaufort. The state’s second oldest city, founded in 1711, is best known for its well-preserved antebellum architecture. Grab a room at the Anchorage 1770 and then wander upstairs to the rooftop, cocktail in hand, to take in the views of boats passing on the Beaufort River and the many oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. For dinner, visit The Ribaut Social Club, once the playground for Admiral Lester Beardslee’s gentlemen’s social club in the 1800s and, a century later, the spot where novelist Pat Conroy would sip his libations. In the daytime, take a walk on The Spanish Moss Trail or at Hunting Island Beach. Or take a horse and carriage ride through the historic district and marvel at the homes on The Point, a hub of Southern antebellum architecture. You’ll be happy you didn’t overlook Beaufort on your next trip to the Charleston/Savannah region. 
 
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A Great Time to Be in Boston!

Call it justice for a city still healing from the loathsome murder and mayhem committed on one of our celebrated days of the year, the annual running of the Boston Marathon. Or simply pay heed to the remarkable job Red Sox GM Ben Cherington did by dumping the salaries of big name ballplayers like Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez and picking up the unheralded Shane Victorino, Mike Napoli, Jonny Gomes, and a journeyman 38-year old pitcher named Koji Uehara. After last year’s laughable season, where we ended up in last place, all we wanted was a chance to have fun at the old ballpark again. But when you’re led by a man named Big Papi, the Babe Ruth of our time, anything is possible. As a travel writer, I’m constantly on the road. Fortunately, I had no trips booked these past two weeks so I could enjoy every game of the World Series with my family. This weekend, there’s no place I’d rather be than home watching the duck boats drive by in a well-deserved parade. 

 
Enjoy the weekend and stay active!
 
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Henry the Eighth, I Am, I Am

A mere 37-minute train ride from Waterloo Station in London brings you to Hampton Court Palace, the best-loved abode of King Henry VIII. All of Henry’s six wives lived at the palace at one point, including his last wife, Kathryn Parr, who married Henry in the upstairs chapel. Take the audio tour of the Grand Hall, apartments, and cooking area, where they would roast large quantities of beef on a spit, washed down with kegs of beer and far too young wine. Then stroll the grounds and try your luck at the Maze, the oldest maze in England, originally built in 1702. With hedges towering close to 8-feet high, the narrow, winding paths are over a half-mile long. It’s a special treat for the kids after touring the palace. A special treat for music lovers is happening on August 30th, when two of my favorite groups, Brand New Heavies and Incognito play a live concert at the palace. Check it out!
 

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My Favorite Lobster-in-the-Rough Joint in Maine

Talk about lobster rolls in Maine and you enter into a territorial catfight where everyone seems to choose their local favorite. I happen to love the affordable rolls at Quoddy Bay Lobster in Eastport, topped with a full claw, the chockful of meat served in a bun at Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, and sitting at the pier at Beal’s, just outside Acadia National Park. But if you ask those same foodies where to find the best lobster roll with a view, the majority of Mainers will point you to the Lobster Shack in Cape Elizabeth. Not far from where Winslow Homer set up shop on Prouts Neck, the picnic tables overlook that same boulder-strewn coastline Homer loved to paint. Order your food at the window of the rustic shack, wait for your number to be called, and grab a spot with vistas of Casco Bay, framed by two lighthouses. One of those lighthouses is the picturesque Portland Head Light, a favorite subject of artist Edward Hopper. For more information on the Lobster Shack, see the story I wrote for The Boston Globe.
 

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