Crowdsourcing a Travel Itinerary

Do you ask questions? All the time? Like a 4-year-old riding a Skittles’ high? It’s a habit I developed at a young age, along with a rather unfortunate character descriptor: “Cathy? She’s like a dog with a bone.” However, this inquisitive tendency serves me well on the road. People respond to questions with generous amounts of information. Who doesn’t want to tell you where to go? Occasionally you feel like the locals are trying to take you for a ride, as if you’re a city slicker in an episode of “Green Acres“, but generally you’ll garner priceless insider tips.
Continue reading

Ribiculous

I forgot to include “Attend a Festival” in my end-of-summer must-do list from last week. You’ve got plenty of choices; Hudson Valley Magazine listed 32 scheduled for the summer of 2014. I took advantage of Sunday’s beautiful weather to indulge my love of pork and headed to the 10th Hudson Valley RibFest, hosted by the Highland Rotary Club in New Paltz, New York.

@The Open Suitcase LLC

The RibFest is held on the Ulster County Fairgrounds, a beautiful spot in the shadow of the Shawangunk Mountains.

Continue reading

Calming a Rumbly Tumbly

bbqPooh had it easy.

When he got hungry, he set his sights on the nearest honey pot. I’m not so easily satisfied, particularly on the road, always prowling for THE MEAL, one that becomes symbolic of the trip itself. It borders on OCD and bothers my family to no end, particularly my youngest, who would choose Chili’s-any place, any time. Continue reading

6 Reasons Why I Love Airports

“Almost all U.S. airports are utterly barren of things to do. The dirty little lunch counters are always choked with permanent sitters staring at their indigestible food. . . The traveler consigned to hours of tedious waiting can only clear a spot on the floor and sit on his baggage and, while oversmoking, drearily contemplate his sins.”

Airport conditions haven’t changed much since this article was published in Fortune in 1946. Except for the smoking. Now smokers are confined to those glass rooms, a human terrarium. I always feel a bit sorry for them, especially when kids stare and point, like they’re caged zoo animals. Continue reading