MOLI View: Travel & Leisure :: Travel

Chocolate Covered
Chocolate Covered Sweets and Gifts in San Francisco's Noe Valley is the manifestation of its passionate and slightly obsessive-compulsive owner, Jack Epstein. One half of the small shop is dedicated to chocolate, and the other to an assortment of small gift boxes and tins.

The gift boxes are often covered in beautiful Japanese art papers, and the tins-several hundred of them-feature the name of nearly every street in San Francisco (as well as known schools and buildings). He's more than happy to cover the boxes and tins with any image, which is a great way to customize a gift.
Why Travel Now?
It's the era of scary gas prices and the stay-cation, and even though you still have a job, you're feeling insecure and worried about the future. Guess what? It's happened before. Seriously, history shows us that there has never been a generation that hasn't lived through a serious recession. It's real and visceral and so humbling, but don't crawl under a rock. You should still make it a point to live, try new things and expand your horizons, even though your animal instincts might be to hoard food, don't make any fast moves or unnecessary changes, settle for less and stay in your lackluster job/apartment/relationship. Don't do it. Agitate. Congregate. Don't isolate. Rebel, even.

I'm not saying go out and run up your credit card debt, quite the opposite. Minimize your life. Do you really need 200 cable TV channels? Do you really need cable TV at all? (I mean, you can get your news and many of your favorite TV shows online.) Cancel your magazine subscriptions. What about that gym membership? Is it really worth $80/month or could you eat healthier and less, take a few yoga classes and run around the park? Get a better phone plan -- tell your carrier, you are tempted to switch to the other guy. See what that gets you. Borrow books from the library again instead of buying them from Amazon.com. Buy your food from local growers or farmers markets and avoid Whole Foods. Make your own coffee and avoid Starbucks. Put your apartment on an energy diet: it's not just right, it will save you money every month. Give yourself a body scrub with wet sand at the beach, do your own nails and touch-up your own roots with Clairol Root Touch-Up (under $10 and it works so good!) Ride your bike more. Invite friends over for a potluck instead of meeting out at restaurants.

And here's a big one: Stop buying things made in China unless it's secondhand. You'll be shocked at how little you can buy in stores like Target or The Gap, and at how easy it is to find almost anything you want on eBay or craigslist or in your local thrift store. Plus, you probably don't really NEED anything new anyway. In fact, play this game: Instead of buying new stuff, sell your old stuff. Look at this article about people who live with just 100 things, giving something up to get something new, just for inspiration.

It may feel like punishment or going regressing at first because it may remind you of the way you lived when you were 21 and a starving artist. But the difference between consuming less now as opposed to in your salad years, is this is doing with less by your own choice. You are in control here. And with the extra money you have from making these dozen or so little mind-clarifying changes, you can do something significant with your dollars. Something that may change the direction of your life. Like finally taking that trip to wherever it is you've always wanted to go.

There is a very big world out there and you are actually connected to all of it. Decisions you make every day effect people living in India and Vietnam and Israel and Peru (major manufacturing centers). And it you find you're feeling ashamed of how the U.S. is perceived by the world, go abroad and maybe change even one person's mind about how awful Americans are.

Why now? Well, because there's only now. For sure. I mean, you could perish in any number of mundane and unspectacular ways and not have another chance. And it is possible that the economy could get worse and you'll be even less likely to get away a few months from now. And because by traveling you could meet someone who will become your new business partner, life partner, or muse/mentor who could change the course of your existence. And because the feeling of mobility reminds you that you can change, and you can make changes, you can literally move out of the rut you are in. And you will take some inspiration from seeing how other people live, the choices they have, and the choices they make. All of this new stimuli throws your own life and your (relatively abundant) choices into a new light.

Even if you can only get to a different state (perhaps where an old friend now lives and has been inviting you to visit for years), and you have to take a train or a bus, and maybe sit next to someone who is 21 or 71, and pack your own lunch. Go. Go. Just go.

Cathay Che is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Travel & Leisure. She posts every Tuesday and Thursday.
The Road to Hana
As I've said before, glamorous Maui is like the Julia Roberts of the Hawaiian Islands. It's the prettiest and most popular, and for that reason alone, there are plenty of naysayers who will tell you that Kauai or the Big Island is where you are much more likely to find "the real Hawaii." While I also adore both of those islands, it's not really true -- especially if you factor in the remote, green, lush side of Maui and the little town of Hana.

If seeing the Na Pali coast is the seminal thing to do on Kauai, and seeing the erupting volcano is the not-to-be-missed activity on the Big Island, then the equivalent on Maui is taking the road to Hana. If you've never done it, it might seem a bit daunting. While it's only 55 miles from Haiku (the last place to get an iced latte) to Hana, it's an infamously twisting, winding road, causing even the most stalwart of passengers to feel a little car sick (if you think about it, driving on an S-curving road mimics the motion of a rocking boat). Along the route, you never know if someone is pulling over to hurl or merely to snap another stunning waterfall photo.

But if you ask me, it's absolutely worth it. You just have to do it right. Fill up your gas tank to at least 3/4 full and plan for about five hours. While it would only take you about two hours to do the drive straight through, it's much more pleasant if you take it slow and make a few stops along the way. Which stops? Well, a decent guidebook will give you many options: places to swim, waterfalls, hikes, places to buy fresh fruit smoothies and fish tacos. But unless you have an amazing co-pilot, willing to write out crib notes on their forearm, it's unlikely anyone will be able to read from any book during the drive.

The solution is a convenient audio guide to the road to Hana: a CD that narrates the drive like your own personal tour guide. You start the CD at the designated spot on the Hana Highway and off you go. This was a novel idea that has inspired a whole industry of copycats, and they are not all created equal. The one I recommend is called the "On the Road Again" Hana Audio Tour CD. The guides on this one are two local stoner dudes, a haole (white guy from the mainland) called Captain Aloha and a Hawaiian called Uncle Boy Kanai. At times, the narration is like, Dude! Where's My Lunch? It's pretty entertaining, interspersed with local celebrities and musical acts like Marty Dread, Haward Ahia, Kanekoa, Leokane Pryor. But it becomes apparent that what they have a passion for is eating: where to stop for your next snack is top priority.

You have a lot of options, but the stops I like are:

1) The Waikamoi Ridge Trail right before Mile Marker 11: a 20-minute hike into the tropical jungle;

2) Waikani Falls right before Mile Marker 20: a place to take a refreshing swim; and

3) Waianapanapa State Park, about three miles before you get to Hana: a gorgeous black rock beach with crashing waves and sea caves.

The other critical thing about doing the drive to Hana is to stay overnight once you get there. Otherwise, once you arrive in this verdant little town -- which is virtually undeveloped except for a working ranch and one super luxury resort, the Hotel Hana Maui, and has the most Native Hawaiians anywhere in Hawaii except for the island of Molokai -- you'll have to turn around and drive right back. The Hotel Hana Maui is $395 a night in low season and includes breakfast, Hawaiian fruits, chocolate-covered macadamia nuts and local goat cheese and crackers in the room, yoga classes, and use of the steam room, cold plunge, and black lava-rock jacuzzi in the phenomenal spa (that has early bird spa specials of $89 treatments from 9 am to 2 pm).

If the Hotel Hana Maui is too rich for your budget, there are other options, like the Luana Spa: a single yurt with a spectacular view of Hana Bay.

On your second day in Hana, you can explore the red sand beach, go surfing or snorkeling at Hamoa Beach, take a dip in the Seven Sacred Pools, and even go to see the grave of adventurer and aviator Charles Lindbergh, who ended his life at his retreat near Hana. Celebrities and artists have always loved Hana. Fashion photographer David LaChapelle, '80s singer Pat Benatar, Woody Harrelson, and even Oprah Winfrey have escapes here. Hana is just magical. The road here is not a drive measured in mere distance, but it's like a step back in time, to untouched Hawaii, intact, untamed, and still wild.

Cathay Che is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Travel & Leisure. She posts every Tuesday and Thursday.
Forbidden Isle: Niihau
As you may know, there are six Hawaiian islands you can visit: the Big Island of Hawaii (the namesake of the state), Oahu (where you will find Waikiki Beach and the state capitol of Honolulu), Maui, Kauai, Lanai, and Molokai. But many don't realize there are actually eight islands in total in the Hawaiian chain. Kahoolawe, the seventh sibling, is a recovering bomb test site, so you don't want to go there anyway. And the eighth is the oldest, privately owned, and rarely spoken about: Niihau.

Niihau's mystique is based on its exclusivity: You can only visit if you receive a personal invitation from a resident. Growing up in Hawaii, I have never met anyone from Niihau and don't know anyone who ever has. But I have heard stories from people who have tried to take their boats on or near Niihau, which lies about 17.5 miles southwest of Kauai, and been threatened or shot at by a boat patrol from the island. Since all of the beaches in the state of Hawaii are supposed to be public, there are people who get up in arms over this from time to time. But mostly the locals have no problem with it because we respect the fact that Niihau is basically an independent nation. Since I was a child, I have been told that I could never go there, that the people on Niihau live in the old Native Hawaiian way. Everyone there speaks fluent Hawaiian, and the chaos and confusion of modern life have been kept well at bay.

From an anthropological perspective, this is amazing. Given that for the most part, Hawaiian culture has been repressed ever since the arrival of Christian missionaries in 1820, and it was illegal to teach any of it in public schools here until 1985, Niihau has always been a beacon of hope. The culture modern Hawaii is so desperate to now reclaim might be thriving on this northernmost spot, forbidden or kapu to outsiders for over a century. I suppose the logic has been that one day, a study of these old-school Hawaiians would reveal many rich and wonderful secrets lost.

My romance with the island came to a sudden end, however, when I picked up the book Niihau: The Traditions of an Hawaiian Island (by Rerioterai Tava and Moses K. Keale Sr). This slim academic volume published in 1998 details the sale of the island in 1864 by Hawaii's King Kamehameha V to Eliza McHutchinson Sinclair. She's often described as a head-strong matriarch, but she was a pioneer woman whose captain husband moved her from Craigforth, Scotland, to Wanganui, New Zealand. She was taking her clan to California, when her ship was blown off course to Honolulu, where she promptly settled in and started negotiating the sale of Niihau for a mere $10,000 ($11,000, if you count the $1,000 she spent buying out Niihau's last private land owner). The crown was deeply in debt and agreed, making the Sinclairs the new haole or foreigner kings of this prime ranch land.

In her benevolence, Sinclair is said to never have treated the natives on Niihau as slaves; rather condescendingly, she regarded them as children. They were strongly encouraged to attend church (and punished if they didn't). Later, when Sinclair's sole heir, grandson Aubrey Robinson, took over the ranch and closed the island to all non-residents, the islanders were forced to work for the family. Needless to say, since the Sinclairs took over, many Niihau residents defected to Kauai (the closest island to Niihau) or other locales. According to census figures, the population dropped from a little over 1,000 in 1864 to just 300 people four years later.

According to the 2000 census, there were just 166 people living on Niihau. Two-thirds of them are pure native Hawaiians, comprising the largest colony of pure-blood Hawaiians in the entire state. And yes, according to the book, time has stood still here. But reading details of daily life on Niihau, I began to wonder if it was less a paradise than a prison?

Traditionally, men worked long hours for the Robinsons, and the women ran the home and raised the children. The old Hawaiian way of life as described here is extremely patriarchal: Women serve the men, and they eat separately afterwards. Hearing a description of how the women don't wear pants but the long, modest muumuu of the 1900s made me think of the women in polygamist cults. Both boys and girls attend school, but they are expected to start working at the age of 15.

There are no airports, shops, liquor, beauty salons, or even a post office on Niihau, though they do have electricity and a large military base (though there are no permanent staff). Suspiciously, the entire adult population are very conscientious voters. Until 1982, all of them voted Republican across the board, which suggests they may be "influenced" by the church or the Robinsons politically as well.

And though the book reports that the people have been happy with their simple way of life (since they don't own the land they live on, they don't pay rent or mortgages), collecting and selling prized Niihau shell leis in their spare time, making music and staying out of the way of progress, I had to question my former enthusiasm about the preservation of the old ways of Hawaii.

As the adage goes, be careful what you wish for.

Niihau is now on the cusp of change. The Robinson family closed the unprofitable ranch down in 1999 and most of the residents now survive on public welfare, which will soon expire, begging the question: What is the future of this tiny Hawaiian colony? Both increased tourism or increased military presence would dramatically alter life as islanders have known it. The Robinsons have put the island on sale for a rumored $10M, which is chump change for a mega-resort development company. The only caveat is that the island must be preserved as it is now until the last of the current residents dies off. Maddening and fascinating.

Cathay Che is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Travel & Leisure. She posts every Tuesday and Thursday.
Art of the Stay-cation
If you're taking a few days off and falling into the nationwide trend of feeling too broke to actually go anywhere, and therefore relegated to a "stay-cation," I say, make the most of it. Here are some tips I've gathered from many other people I know who are in exactly the same boat.

1) In preparation for the stay-cation, take a full day to CLEAN YOUR HOUSE. This might seem like the very epitome of what you don't want to do on a hot sweaty August day, but really, it's a gift to yourself. Organize your life, cross off several things on your To Do List, and put your affairs in order, just like you would if you were leaving town. And most importantly, make it a goal to give away at least two bags of clothes or two boxes of junk sitting around and cluttering up your abode. Then do a big cleaning; finally get the dust and spiderwebs lurking in corners. Just by doing this, you'll feel like you lost 15 pounds, and your place will look terrific, almost like a room at the W Hotel (ha, ha). See the About.com Housekeeping site for tips. But don't think of this as part of your actual stay-cation, just the foreplay for it.

2) Figure out how much you have to spend on your stay-cation and make the most of it. For example, a weekend in Puerto Rico might have cost $1,200 you don't have, but maybe you have about $600 (the amount of that economic stimulus check we all got)? Whatever the amount is, plan a budget for your stay-cation, just like you would for a vacation. If you're an idiot with money, try BudgetAdvice.com to help you get started. Maybe you want to take half the money and invest it in something new for your house that will be a lasting souvenir of the stay-cation? Like a flatscreen TV, new bedding, or a set of pots and pans? And then set aside the other half of the money to stock the fridge with all of your favorite foods and some nice wines, or plan to spend it dining out, getting a massage, or playing a few rounds of golf, just like you would if you went away.

3) Set some goals for your stay-cation. Think about how you want to feel at the end of it. More fit? More relaxed? More productive? More creative? These goals could be as simple as: a) take a run, hit the gym, or do a yoga class every day; b) make mom's rhubarb daisy cake from scratch; c) watch the entire first season of Mad Men on DVD; and d) make a phone date with your best girlfriend who lives out of state for a catch-up chat. Or the opposite: a) make no plans with anyone; b) watch no TV; c) stock the fridge with easy, abundant snack/food options; and d) pretend to be in an isolated cottage in the woods and finish writing that grant application/screenplay/book proposal.

4) Buy a guidebook or look at a travel guide online about your hometown, and try to approach your own city/town with the same spirit of exploration you usually save for a trip to South America. What's new and different and cool where you live? Is there a park, museum, restaurant, or boutique you've always wanted to check out? Perhaps there's something really old and soon to close in your area you want to revisit one last time? Or maybe a drive you've always wanted to take to a secret spot someone once told you about?

5) And most importantly, don't treat a stay-cation like a non-event. If you do, you're likely to feel cheated, deprived, and hostile, like you didn't get a vacation this summer. It's not just time for you to do pedestrian stuff like pay bills and sleep in, like a random day off from the office, but a chance for you to rise to the occasion, like you do when you travel. Really take yourself out of your routine and the maintenance of daily life. Give yourself permission to play. Pamper yourself. Create some space for you to have an epiphany or two about your future. And really reconnect to the part of yourself you like best. Having a good vacation is just like having good sex: it's limited mostly by your own imagination.

Cathay Che is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Travel & Leisure. She posts every Tuesday and Thursday.
Let's Go To Albania!
Budapest, the new Prague, becomes as thronged with backpackers as Vietnam, the new Thailand? (or was it the new Cambodia?)

Bringing things closer to home, the recent buzzword in quirky but cool travel is Croatia. Home to the partying port of Pula and Byron's "pearl of the Adriatic," Dubrovnik, it has more than enough to justify its position as Europe's playground.

The problem, however, as with all these diamonds in the rough, is that once their beauty secrets are out, there's no turning back. Croatia is now in danger of descending into the same highrise chaos as its Iberian neighbors. In the end, there are no winners.

It is with this in mind that I tentatively write the next few paragraphs. For the past ten days, I have been lounging in glorious sun drenched isolation. Where I hear you ask? Albania.

Yes, Albania! - but keep it very close to your chest; don't tell your neighbor; don't spout it to your hairdresser - Albania, only recently rid of its hardline communist past, is home to the last deserted beaches in Mediterranean Europe.

With a landscape largely unchanged since the ancient Greeks patrolled these shores, deserted beaches such as Dhermi and Drymades, both only a few hours on the bumpy road from the curious capital, Tirana; one could be forgiven for developing a sudden form of agoraphobia, such is their seclusion and your absolute privacy.

The locals that you do stumble across are very friendly, clearly not used to the sight or concept of tourists. One is as likely to be ignored as approached.

Further south, close to the Greek border, is Saranda, the closest thing Albania has to that dreaded word, resort. At present, it is more a building site than a working resort. With the most appealing waterfront on the Ionian coast, and just a stone's throw from the Greek island, Corfu; Saranda has all the amenities the less solitary traveler may wish for: hassle free beaches, cheap food with an Italian influence, and accommodation ranging from basic camping to five star la la land!

But get here today, not tomorrow. Soon the roads to these Elysian beaches will be improved to facilitate the package mob and their innocent vices. Soon, Albania will be lost to the lure of the tourist and their Euro.

So if you can swing it, get there before the summer disappears, and Albania will treat you to that rarest of travel gifts: tranquility.

Paul Tuthill is the MOLI View's contributing editor for the UK & Ireland.
The Show Must Go On
"You better call to check on show times, the place is run by drunks," declared one Provincetown denizen, when I suggested I might go see dark and scathing drag sensation, Jackie Beat, at a venue called The Post Office. The official flyer said the show was at 10:15 p.m., but the ad in Provincetown Magazine contradicted that and said starting time on Wednesday night was 8:30 p.m.

As much as the misfits of Ptown presented a united front when attacked from the outside, like many communities, on the inside, there was a fair amount of mudslinging. The comments I heard on a daily basis ranged from downright bitter and bitchy to mildly chiding, but some of it was explained by competitiveness among Ptown performers. Some, like headliners Jackie Beat, Jimmy James, Hedda Lettuce and Varla Jean Merman, make a killing each summer -- enough to live on year-round. But others sort of struggle, earning just enough to subsidize being there. And, of course, everyone is very sensitive to perceived airs, insults, or upsets to the pecking order.

I really wished I'd allotted more nights for my first visit to the crook of misfit queers (I say "crook: because Provincetown or Ptown is not an isle, rather the tippy tip of Cape Cod, a sliver of land that looks like a bent finger). Because all cattiness aside, this is world-class drag and comedy sketches sometimes so scathing and brilliantly funny, they can singe your eyebrows off.

I was lucky arriving on Monday night, so that I could see Ptown's unofficial drag mayor, Ryan Landry (no drag name)'s revue, Showgirls, at the well-established Crown Cabaret. Most of the performers in town do a skit or a number here to promote their various shows and attempt to showoff and one-up each other, and it had the feeling of a real locals night. Landry is one of those homely drag queens whose brilliance lies in his dark wit. Making fun of Family Week, he opened with a number sung to the tune 'Hot Child in the City', but rewritten as 'Hot Child in a Chevy' (a cautionary tale of drunk parents leaving their kid locked in the car). Twisted, in bad taste, and hilarious.

The other drag acts were competing for the weekly $500 purse, and there were many different approaches: two Carol Channing impersonators, a Judy Garland, a 10-year old girl gussied-up singing Judy Collins (pushed onstage by her two lesbian stage moms), and the winner, a sexy, coltish drag queen who lip-synched a song about giving blow jobs while pouring heavy cream all over herself. Actually, the milkmaid had to split the $500 with the 10-year-old, but she got $300 and the kid, who thankfully went home and missed her competitors' performance, only got $200. The personal highlight for me was sitting next to author Michael Cunningham during the show.

The next night, I actually was stuck at home babysitting, where I tried to get the kids to put on our own show (alas, watching Hercules won out), so I did a double-header my last night.

First, the aforementioned Jackie Beat, who I used to go see on a regular basis at Fez when she lived in NYC. Now she's back in L.A., and Fez, a terrific basement venue where I also first saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch, closed its doors a few years back as well. Ms. Beat is a large presence, with barely contained punk rock rage and quick comebacks that can slaughter you before you even realize it's happened. She recently toured with comedienne Roseanne Barr as the opening act and crowd warmer, so she begins her show with a video skit with Roseanne. Hysterical. But not as good as her YouTube music video, 'Baby Got Front' which she also showed. Ms. Beat also has a terrific set of pipes, and she belts out her rewritten pop hits with a studied precision. Unfortunately, she was playing to a very tough crowd. College kids, blue-collar gays and lesbians, and a few bohemian straight couples, some of whom seemed like they were ill-prepared for her style of humor. Ahem.

I ran from the Post Office, a trashy venue charging $20 and a two-drink minimum, but one of the best in Ptown, to the basement of the restaurant Enzo, to see my favorite sketch comedy troupe ever, Unitard. This trio is composed of Nora Burns (a biological female from the comedy group The Nellie Olesons), David Ilku (one-half of the legendary drag queen duo, The Dueling Bankheads), and author and columnist for the New York Times, Mike Albo.

These three skewer popular culture and politics so cleverly, so crassly, so perfectly, whenever I see them, it's like I've been to laugh therapy: I literally laugh for 90 minutes straight. Nora plays with characters like Ann Coulter and immigrant-hating Texan housewives (who can't survive without them); David, an amazing actor, creates original characters, like Captain America (who goes on a tirade about everything he/America does wrong, ending with the statement "I am America, and I am China's bitch!"); and Mike does a character called "The Underminer" (also the title and subject of a whole book of his): the cutting "friend" whose every comment is an underhanded insult and who keeps you around just to make himself feel superior: sadly, we all know him/her).

Though there were more A-List acts in Ptown I wish I could have seen, I was satiated by what I crammed into three days. And believe me, if another invite comes my way next summer, I'll be happy to pack up for another sojourn in this queer village of oddly content malcontents.

Cathay Che is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Travel & Leisure. She posts every Tuesday and Thursday.
Wild on Borneo
I usually pack for a one-week trip. But last night I stuffed my biggest suitcase fuller than usual because my trip tonight will take me far, far away on the longest non-stop flight you can take.

I'll take off from Newark tonight and go over the pole to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Then another flight to Kuching in the heart of the Sarawak province, on the right side of this sprawling republic of nine distinct regions.

Malaysia Tourism likes their megafams. That means hundreds of journalists and tour operators, from all over the world, but most represented will be fellow Islamic countries. We will assemble in a grand hall and hear speeches and encouragement about Sarawak as a great tourist destination. I like being able to meet people from places like Iran, and Syria, and Indonesia, all of whom will no doubt be in attendance.