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Cities of the World: San Diego & the Sophia Hotel

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Al Fresco dining at the Currant

When Nina and I came to San Diego last year for her educational book show at the Convention Centre, we stayed at the luxurious Sophia Hotel, only blocks away in the Gaslamp Quarter.

So, when we came recently to film an interview in nearby Alpine, there was no question where we would stay while in town. And that’s not just because it’s a “pet-friendly” hotel, either (as if that’s relevant to Toulouse, the Travel Cat. However, I’m not blind to my less fortunate and less eloquent cousins and on their behalf I view this as a wonderful bonus feature of the hotel). This service owes its existence to general manager Andrea Winslow and her love of animals. Thanks, Andrea!

The Sofia Hotel is a recognized member of the National Trust Historical Hotels of America. This Neo Gothic building was originally designed along

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Britney and her dog in pet-friendly Sophia Hotel

 with the stage/bus terminal by architect Wilber Peugh in 1926 with a crenellated roofline and terra cotta and plaster embellishments. It was San Diego’s first hotel with “in-suite” bathrooms and their marketing slogan read, “A Room and a Bath for Two and a Half.” Were they thinking of moi?…Formerly known as the Pickwick Hotel, the Sofia was part of the “Pickwick Stages”, one of three major stage lines in the United States established by Charles Wesley Grise in 1911. It later merged with Greyhound in 1929.

In 1986 the hotel was refurbished into a boutique-hotel by its new owners with the help of talented interior designer

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Toulouse gets "Currant" with Jeremy the bartender

 Anjun Razvi and became the Sofia Hotel.  Interesting design features include tasteful use of fossil fauna and flora, prehistoric-looking plants and lamps that act as storyboards to showcase the history of the hotel. The Sofia Hotel was featured prominently in Dashiell Hammett’s popular mystery novel, The Maltese Falcon.

After checking into our room on the 6th floor, Nina and I decided to have dinner at the hotel’s lounge and “American Brasserie with French influence” called Currant. As we waited to be seated, we ordered specialty cocktails from Jeremy the bartender. I chose “the Currant”, an exquisite mixture of champagne, lychee juice, Chambord, and pomegranate seeds. It’s a delicate drink with an exotic sweetness that reminds me of a tropical island beach. I can’t remember what Nina ordered, but I do remember her glancing covetously at my drink.

The bistro offers al fresco dining and the host seated us within a nicely

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Toulouse savors a Creme Brule with cappucino

 decorated enclosure under an outdoor heater. We were served by Omar, a charming Mexican who may become the next CEO of Disney Studios, given his enthusiastic and creative promotional genius. Speaking of genius, his son Osmar Pete at the tender age of 2-years was bestowed the blue ribbon for artistic achievement at the Women’s Club annual Art Festival. His abstract watercolors sell for up to $1000.

I had the lobster bisque. Hoping for a sip of bisque, Nina blithely shared her canard salad of duck confit, arugula, toasted macadamia nuts, and strawberries with orange-balsamic reduction. It was exquisite, I must say! The duck confit was wonderfully tender and of course rich with flavor. We then shared the duck confit linguine, cooked in extra virgin olive oil with roasted garlic and shallots and parmigiano reggiano. Of course we had wine with the meal but I honestly can’t remember what it was! It doesn’t matter

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Omar the waiter confers with Toulouse on being a celebrity

because it went well with the Vanilla Bean Crème Brûlée. :-3

Amenities of the Sofia Hotel include 211 guestrooms and spacious suites, yoga studio, business centre and fitness centre, as well as spa and treatment room. This is a classy converted hotel with charming service and a very friendly atmosphere. The staff were gracious and helpful and showed lots of humor (I know–Nina is a good barometer for that) from the Concierge to the staff at the front desk and cleaning crew.

The Sofia Hotel is located on West Broadway in San Diego, telephone number 619-234-9200.

Tell them that Toulouse sent you! :-3

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John and Matt man the front desk

Photos by Nina Munteanu

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The Zen of Travel: Getting the Most Out of Your Flight

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Toulouse lounges under Nina's "GPS"

Who’s seen “Up in the Air” with George Clooney (who makes Nina’s heart go pitter patter)? It’s about a man whose business has him constantly travelling and living his life out of a suitcase in apparent bliss.

All in all, it’s a cynical man’s take on travelling. Sure, it served as a good metaphor for the journey of life, and as such made some good commentary on life-values (though I’m not sure how much Nina got out of the story—she watched the entire film on the plane without any sound. She didn’t care; she got what she wanted…). And lots of what Clooney’s character shared with his apprentice made sense for efficient travel. But, travelling doesn’t have to be so hard-boiled. So mechanically efficient.

And, if you’ve seen the movie and how it ends, this is not the most satisfactory way to travel. When it comes to travel, efficiency shouldn’t take precedence over fun. Remember, fun is always at the root of a favorably memorable trip. I’m the cool travel cat, after all, the wizard of travelling. The master of the journey. The Zen Travel Cat. So, let me share with you what I’ve learned…

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Toulouse savors a martini in Nina's Halifax Airport office/bar

Nina and I travel a lot, whizzing from one side of the country to the other or to exotic places abroad, by plane by car by motorcycle, by boat or even on tender foot and paw…We’ve caught flights from the airport at totally uncivilized hours, when nothing—not even the Starbucks—was open. We’ve weathered day-long delays—and not just because of weather. One flight in Tanzania didn’t go until enough people signed up to fully populate the plane! Ok… just kidding, well, sort of. We’ve slept on airport benches using Nina’s carry-on as a foot stool. We’ve gotten lost going from one terminal to another and then back again, when the plane decided to dock at another gate—just for the heck of it (I’m sure they have hidden cameras broadcasting to some planet in the Vega system of the mad scurry of harried travelers). We’ve been searched and scanned while the officials laughed (ok, Nina was telling them a joke; she was rejecting rule number one again—never smile or cavort with officials who have power over you. At the age of 50+ she’s still amazingly naïve—maybe that’s why I like her so much… :-3 ).

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Toulouse consoles his stranded self with a Bell's Best Brown Ale at the Westin Airport Hotel

Ok, I promised you some tips on how to enjoy your travels to the fullest, from airport to airport—what you do after you get to your destination is up to you. Well, actually, I have something to say about that too, but that’s a whole other post.

Getting the most out of your travels is a little like magic. It combines safety and security-smarts with having fun. The magic comes in how you mix these, so you don’t sink into the sweaty doldrums of paranoia on the one hand or get into trouble with security and miss your flight altogether on the other (I have stories about that too, actually—not the end of the world…). Here are some “Toulouse Rules” (well, “Toulouse Guidelines”, then):

  1. Dress comfortably so your body can relax. Leave those two-inch stilettos at home or in your checked baggage. Wear loose clothing and comfortable shoes, in case the unmentionable happens and you find yourself racing down the hallway to catch a tight connection. When your body is relaxed, your mind relaxes too. You’re less likely to get flustered and piss off airport officials this way. There is such a thing as being too relaxed, though. On a flight to Halifax from Dulls Washington, Nina lost track of time over a lively breakfast chat and missed her flight by 2 minutes. The up-side was that she wasn’t penalized and was able to rebook a flight next day, relaxed in a wonderful hotel and had one of the best experiences in what became a leisurely trip.
  2. Travel safe and travel smart. Be aware of your stuff. Be smart about keeping your stuff near you, with you and on you at all times. Part of having the freedom of having fun is to make sure you and your stuff are safe. Once they are safe, you can relax and enjoy your surroundings. Part of this is to be organized about where your various important items are housed. Keep your precious things close to you, preferably on you, and your travel documents (like passport, boarding pass) even closer. Have a designated place for each of these and preferably use the same traveling bag. This will establish an inner-safety net for you so that you can be smart, safe and relax at the same time. It’s a little like Tai-Chi: achieving a fine balance of relaxed-tension that lets you
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    Nina packs light but smart

    focus outward and enjoy the road ahead. :-3

  3. Give yourself enough time to check in, get your bags checked and go through security, but also to relax at the airport bar. Now, you might laugh at the last part, but I’m not kidding. Airports are places too and each one has character (usually associated with the place). I enjoy lingering at airports. They serve as true gateways to world travelers and provide wonderful opportunities to meet interesting people. Sometimes this is only the bartender or waitress, but they are people too, and locals who can often share some information gems you’d never find in the local travel brochure. Nina really knows how to work a place. She usually parks at the bar, where people are more likely to chat, and brings her “cute” tools: her highly popular notebook computer and ME, both of which are guaranteed to elicit conversation. :-3  So, come early and enjoy the airport. It’s a place too. For instance, Nina has her favorite airports and so do I. Nina really likes O’Hare Airport in Chicago and John F. Kennedy in New York City. She tells me that they scintillate with energy and the bustle of world travelers. I’m partial to the cosmopolitan energy of Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, and the spacious and more relaxed airports of Orlando, FL and Phoenix, Arizona.
  4. Pay attention to airport layout and practice. When you do, you soon recognize familiar paradigms and systems that most airports share. This can range from terminal location for airlines to dining places, signage to bathrooms. Knowing your way around an airport—even if you’ve never been there—is not just the mark of a seasoned traveler but the sign of someone who is truly enjoying every aspect of their journey.

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    Toulouse about to board the BC Ferry

  5. Enjoy the ride, every part of it. A wise man in India once told me that the key to happiness is simple: “choose to be happy.” Yup. That simple. Choose to enjoy every aspect of the journey, even the “humdrum” part of it; and I mean the security line ups and searches, body scans, delays, gate changes, etc. By adopting this attitude, you tend to relax, focus on the adventure and open yourself to experience. Ironically, people will react differently to you. They will treat you as an explorer and respect you as a person, because you’ve compelled them to see you as one. Believe me, this works. I’ve seen Nina in action time and again. I don’t know how she gets away with it all, but next thing I knew, one customs official was singing her a song he’d written; at the body scan, she attracted a whole pod of security people and even held up the line, as they eagerly shared her pictures, her writing and me! Now, I happen to know that it was partly because she chose not to see their rifling through her stuff as an invasion but an opportunity to share. :-3 … Which leads me to…
  6. Take it all as it comes and open yourself to the experience. Here are my last two cents—well two dollars, then—on Toulouse’s Zen of Travel. You might call me an existentialist. I’m the cool travel cat and I believe that everything has a purpose and what happens to us—how we react and what we create—is all part of our realizable path. So, when you miss that critical flight or get lost in a strange city or end up stranded in some foreign airport or ferry terminal, open yourself to the experience that you weren’t expecting. The
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    Nina and Toulouse investigate alternative forms of travel...

    likelihood is that you are about to have the adventure of a lifetime, the one you were meant to have. On our last trip through Detroit, we ended up “stranded” at the bar of the Westin Hotel at the airport (sad, but true :-3). One over-coiffed lady swept in like a winter storm, wailing, “They’ve got snow-hurricanes in Pennsylvania!” (her home). She was beside herself (well, I could practically see her twin there) and paced the bar, looking for sympathy—and, I think, on some level enjoying the attention . Next thing you know the whole bar was buzzing with what a “snow-hurricane” was. Another time Nina and I were stranded at the Halifax Airport due to Hurricane Bill. We just hunkered down at a hotel and enjoyed the fierce winds from our comfortable sanctuary inside, drinking the local beer. On another trip to Switzerland, we were “volcanoed” and enjoyed an extended stay there, thanks to the compassion of the locals. We experienced a side of Switzerland we would not have without the delay. “Accidents” are often moments of opportunity. If you see them that way, you are a true explorer of the strange and new. And isn’t that what every traveler ultimately strives for?

Okay… so go out there and travel! And tell them that Toulouse sent you! :-3

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar).

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Toulouse and the City: Getting Lost in New York

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Walking in Soho, New York

We came to New York City in February to focus on the locals and the genuine atmosphere of a more relaxed New York. Is there such a thing as a “relaxed New York”? Well, okay, maybe I mean a more genuine and low-key New York (the February issue of “Time Out New York” features an article called “Find Your Calm: 81 Ideas for Relaxing in NYC). Nina and I spent a mere four days in NYC, but we packed in a life’s-worth of “relaxation”. :-3

It started with the Pod, a stark but clean hotel conveniently located on East 51st Street just off 3rd Avenue. If you don’t mind tiny “nouveau” hostel-style rooms with wee “cupboard” washrooms, this 1960’s style reasonably priced place is for you. The lobby was covered in Warhol-style pop art and avant-garde décor and the desk was manned by friendly and helpful staff. When we were there, the place was overrun by a group of exuberant young Brits who resembled Twiggy and Joe; it fit.

Another plus for The Pod is its neighboring French restaurant, Le Bateau Ivre, where Nina and I ate when we first

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The Pod on East 51st Street

arrived late in the evening. This authentic “French wine bar, raw bar and grill” gets its name, which means “The Drunken Boat”, from a poem by French poet Arthur Rimbaud.  Open from 8 am to 4 am (my kind of hours!), the bistro offers authentic French breakfast, lunch and dinner. Their cuisine includes raw and grilled seafood, meats and tartines (open-faced slices of Poilane-style country bread with a variety of toppings like pate, steak tartare, brandade—codfish and mashed potatoes, and—my favorite—croque monsieur). Run by friendly sommeliers, who can match your taste with just the right wine, the wine bar offers over 250 varieties of the finest French wines by the glass or bottle. We sat ourselves in the wine tasting bar and I ordered a Languedoc St. Chinian 05 Initiale Dom des Jougla. Nina asked the sommelier to “surprise her” with a red wine to match her mood and she ended up with a Bourgogne Pinot Noir (she was in a good mood, I guess). :-3

We were escorted to a table by the window and I ordered escargots from Ivan, our waiter from Russia, who is studying business management in the Bronx. Spasiba, Ivan! Nina ordered a Bouillabaisse, a traditional Provençal

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The bustling crowd of Le Bateau Ivre in NYC

fish stew originating from the port city of Marseille and we settled back in conversation. I enjoyed the cozy French culture around me that included original art work and décor, walls lined with wine bottles and a ceiling of revolving speckled lights. Nina suggested that we come back in the summer when they open their wall of doors for their uptown Euro-clientele (like me … :-3 ) and set up tables on the street for Al fresco dining.

On our first day-excursion in New York, we returned to Bryant Park and ate at the Grill—this time inside—where Nina had a drink at the bar (because it was so beautiful, she said) and I enjoyed a lovely lunch of crispy calamari with arugula, roasted corn, tomato and avocado with lime—cheerfully served to us by Eva, a Brazilian with a agreat sense of humour.

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Toulouse negotiates a bench in Bryant Park

We wandered through Midtown like locals, knowing each turn and street. On  some level, it felt like coming home. I can’t explain it; we’d been to New York only once before. But, if you’ve truly experienced New York and New Yorkers, you know what I mean. New York is bracing and New Yorkers opinionated,  stubborn and loud. They are also genuine and will go out of their way time and again to help you if you are in trouble. Just as with Parisians, you need to earn their respect first. If they perceive you as an equal, if you show the kind of buoyant energy and frankness they embrace and respect, then they will give you the gift of their honesty, genuine  warmth and unbridled kindness.

New York is a paradoxical and complex tapestry of grit and sophistication. It’s a cauldron of mixed genres, bursting with expression from the rappers in the subway to the dancers of Broadway. Its art ranges from the avant-garde splashes of Greene Street in Soho to the Impressionist strokes of the Metropolitan Museum.

Now, I know you’re asking yourselves how a little cat like me got such an in-

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Balthazar Bistro in Soho

depth perception of this complex city in a mere four days? Let me tell you my secret.  We lost ourselves to the city. It’s an art, how to get lost. The first thing you need to lose is your ego; because the fun part of getting lost is getting found—or letting New York find you.

Nina and I got lost in the subways. We lost ourselves in Central Park. And we lost ourselves in Soho (not a bad place to get lost—there are so many unique and interesting cafés, bistros and bars along the way). For example, take the Balthazar, a French-style oyster bar on Spring Street. The Balthazar offers a French menu prepared by chefs de cuisine Riad Nasr and Lee Hanson along with a raw seafood bar and breads and pastries from its bakery next door. The bistro was opened in the spring of 1997 by Keith McNally. Renowned for its French bistro design, the building was converted from a leather wholesaler’s warehouse to an airy space that can seat over 200 patrons. The bistro features authentic French décor and ceiling-high mirrors, creating an ambience of sophisticated bohemian dining and

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Toulouse savors oysters on the half-shell at the Balthazar

lively discussion.

Nina and I sat by the window and shared a beer with oysters on the half-shell from Massachusetts. We then ambled to the bakery next door—Ooh! Lala! Nina and I shared a hazelnut gateau opera (layered cake with hazelnut jaconde, ganache, hazelnut buttercream decorated with caramelized hazelnuts) and I just about died of happiness. :-3

We literally stumbled into the haute gallery section on Greene Street and while Nina stared at the abstract art, I found some exceptional shops on Prince Street. Flustered that she’d lost me (she should be used to it by now), Nina found me at The Smile on Bond Street, enjoying a cappuccino and chatting up the waitress who looked amazingly like Reece Witherspoon. The Smile used to be a boarding house that housed Swiss watchcase makers back in the early 1900s. It’s two doors down from the Gene Frankel Theatre, another converted old place with an amazing history. We ambled along Bleecker Street and then somehow ended up crossing the busy Houston Street into Noho without realizing it and found ourselves in another bar.  The bartender informed us that much of Soho and Noho consisted of old abandoned buildings that were renovated in the 1970s, many into artist’s

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The Smile in Soho

lofts and going for a cool $2000/month. New Yorkers were, according to our bartender, “a lot of angry busy people.” LOL! Sounds like my old home town of Vancouver! Just joking…

No trip to New York is complete without a close-up view of our lady, the colossal Statue of Liberty. Standing tall at 151 feet (her nose alone is 4 feet long), She is a majestic site, proudly lifting her arm high with the torch of enlightenment and holding the keystone of knowledge in the other.

Liberty was herself an immigrant. In 1865 a group of French intellectuals led by Edouard de Laboulaye, protesting the political repression in their own country, decided to honor the ideals of freedom and liberty with a symbolic gift to the United States. They commissioned Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (yes, that one) to design the colossal internal framework and Auguste Bartholdi sculpted her. She was shipped in pieces to New York and in 1886

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Nina and Toulouse approach The Statue of Liberty

stood as she does today on Liberty Island.

A good wander in New York is not complete without taking in its rich and varied architecture. Of course, we even conducted that in our own unique way; like walking innocently into Saint Patrick’s Cathedral on Ash Wednesday. New York is famous for its stunning art deco, beautifully featured in the Empire State Building (did you know that the spire at the top of the building was originally designed as a mooring mast for blimps? They gave it up due to too high winds), the Chrysler Building and buildings of the Rockefeller Centre.

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Dr Oz fields a question from Toulouse

Nina was so preoccupied with her photo-shoot that she let us get nabbed by Mike at NBC Studios to appear on the Dr. Oz Show (personally, I think Mike recognized me and wanted a celebrity in the audience to increase ratings). Guests included Joseph Mercola, Depak Chopra and Kathy Freston, all there to discuss alternative medicine with Dr. Oz. If you get a chance to watch that episode, look for me in the audience near the end of the show! I’m the one next to the idiot grinning from ear to ear (that would be Nina). The bottom line was “get Krill oil” (Dr. Mercola) and “listen to your body’s inner genius” (Deepak Chopra).

On our last day in NYC, we managed to get lost in Central Park (no mean feat, I guess—it’s HUGE!); we were looking for the statue of Balto. After an impressive tour of the Metropolitan

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Mike at NBC poses with Toulouse

Museum of Art and a wander through the Grand Central Station Market, we got lost on the subway again.

We celebrated our adventurous triumph over getting lost in New York with a drink at the Bull and Bear bar in the Waldorf while we waited to be seated in the restaurant. As Nina chatted with locals and networked with business people, I somehow ended up by the bronze statue, overlooking the entire bar. The manager took a shine to me and offered to show me the sights. Nina quickly told him that we were leaving the next morning and sighed when he returned me into her waiting hands. (She loves me, after all…) :-3

Boris, our young waiter (from Brooklyn) seated us beside an elegant lady who somehow recognized us as Canadians (was it my fur?) and opened what promised to be a lively discussion with a question: “So, what do you think of Sarah Palen?” LOL! She recommended the Dover Sole with asparagus (because it was guaranteed to be fresh and cooked to perfection). Its

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Toulouse befriends the bar manager at the Bull & Bear, Waldorf Astoria

sophisticated subtle flavor and texture was a special treat. Barbara Fox grew up in Manhattan (she currently lives near Central Park) and has been enjoying meals at the Waldorf for the past forty years; she treats all the waiters like her own sons—telling them off and berating them for not serving us faster (“We want Nina and Toulouse to come back, don’t we?” she challenged the head waiter)—and they respectfully dote on her in return (“Yes ma’am… no, ma’am…” grinning). And, yes, she is related to the founder of Fox Studios.

Did we discuss the making of a movie about my adventures, you ask… (sly smile)… I’m not telling…

I’m the cool travel cat…

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Barbara Fox smooches with Toulouse at the Waldorf

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar).

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Cruise with Toulouse: Cave Tubing in Belize

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Tubers braving the watery caves

“Belize has some of the best cave tubing in the world!” Nina said gleefully to me in our stateroom aboard the Carnival Dream. That was supposed to make me feel better? Can you visualize me—the cool travel cat—roaring down some underground river, getting soaking wet, fur a tangle and not even seeing where we’re going? I gave her my best scowl but she wasn’t looking; she’d dropped her  gaze to study her papers.

There was no way out of it. I knew. She’d booked us on what’s become the “most popular shore excursion in Belize” and the ship had just anchored off the port of Belize City.

“Come on!” she said. “You don’t want to miss the adventure of a lifetime!” That’s what I was worried about. I wasn’t ready for my life to be over just yet. Nina seized me by the tail, like she always does when she’s excited, and stuffed me into her day pack. Maybe she’d have the compassion to leave me inside the backpack that would be left behind in the bus. That was wishful thinking.

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Approaching the cave (of doom)

We left our sanctuary behind and met our bus near the pier at Belize City. Our tour guide was a native Rastafarian, who looked  far too cheerful and whose first words were, “Are we flexible?” My little pile stomach turned. This wasn’t going  to be my day, I thought.

As the bus wove through the milling traffic of Belize City, Jack cheerfully described the rather turbulent history of this  major port and financial and industrial hub of Belize. Belize City was once a small Maya town called Holzuz. Because of its location by the sea and because the Belize River empties there, the British found Belize City ideal for shipping logwood and mahogany.  The city was real popular with hurricanes too, it seems. One came through in 1931 and more recently Hurricane Hattie swept through the city in 1961, destroying huge portions. “Are we flexible?”The bus parked at the Caves Branch Archeological Reserve. Grinning like a fool, Nina pulled me out of her pack and stuffed me into her pocket. I had one last longing look at her blue backpack before she leapt out of the bus to join the others.

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Hitting the rapids of the Caves Branch River

After we received our giant black tube (of death) Nina joined the rest of our party on a hike through Belize jungle in the Reserve. I didn’t see any naughty monkeys, poisonous snakes, or jaguars thankfully. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. We climbed stone staircases that wound into deep caves, known to  house hundreds—if not thousands—of bats. I didn’t look up.

That was bad enough… then Nina decided to check out the acoustics inside the cave with her signature Olympic Elk call. No one should be subjected to that kind of torture, especially a poor cat about to get drenched. A few blazing stares from fellow adventurers soon quieted her down.

When I caught my first glimpse of the Sibun Caves Branch  River, my tiny heart went pitter patter. I knew it was even

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A lone tuber emerges from the dark cave

worse when I saw a rope tautly stretched across the river at human hip level. “No problem, Toulouse!” Nina assured me as she plunged into the river and waded across, tube slung over her left shoulder and rope clutched in her right hand. My heart raced like a Ferrari at an Indi race when she slipped on a slippery rock and wavered. But she recovered with a giddy laugh and patted me on the head.

We wove around tangles of buttressed roots and vines, rich with the pungent scents of exotic flowers, to our final destination: a quiescent bend in the river before it narrowed and churned toward the yawning mouth of a cave. The cave entrance dripped with Spanish moss and epiphytes harboring snakes and heaven  knows what else. My little heart beat like a tiny drum. If stuffed cats could scream this was the time to do it.
Nina grinned down at me and jammed me further into her pocket. Once she’d determined that I was safely tucked
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The jungle of Belize

inside, she slapped her tube into the water and waded in, poised over it. Then, in a rather ungraceful halting move she let herself “fall” into the tube with a bounce and we were launched. Hulario, our guide, got a dozen of us to link together, intertwining feet and elbows, into a long snake that would meander down the river through the inky blackness of these sodden caverns. Everyone wore a little headlight on their head. It’s not what you think. The light they give off in the  black cavern is too miniscule to make a difference to the bearer, Hulario informed us. The purpose of the light was so

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River Calamity: deflated tubes and egos

he could see us (in case one of us got separated from the human “snake”. Sweet, as Nina would say (it’s all in the tone of voice).

Then, we were off, careering down the river, the spray of turbid grey-green water splashing my lovely fur coat, and Nina hollering with glee (I hate it when she gets like that). The first cave yawned ahead like giant jaws of Hell as the tube pitched over foot-high standing waves toward it. In no time we were sucked into the cave; we’d entered the bowels of hell. I noticed that the lights  made absolutely no difference to our ability to see. The cave was pitch dark and the currents pulled us here and there on a whim—or was it something else??? Hulario’s voice echoed in the watery cave: the Maya regarded these caves as the underworld, or Xibalba, he informed us. They used caves as a water source as well as for rituals, ceremonies and sacrifices. Water that dripped from stalactites was

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Toulouse getting dried off

used as holy water for ceremonies.

I sighed as we emerged into the daylight toward the last leg of our tubing adventure.

“Butts UP!” shouted Hulario, as we glided over the shallows. Several tubes shoaled up on gravel shallows and one of the human snakes broke up.

A few renegade tubers, who’d broken off from the human snake, found themselves flying into the fast part of the river (Nina called it the “thalweg” of the river—smart aleck limnologist!) where the current pulled them effortlessly into the thorny bushes. I heard a POP! One young “genius” seized an overhanging thorny branch to slow him down and cut his hand: “OW!” Followed by a POP! It was a Three Stooges show for the rest of us as we glided by the mayhem of wet sods as they negotiated the river’s challenging shoreline carrying their deflated tubes and egos.

When we reached the rope across the river, I knew our tubing adventure was over at last. Back onboard the Carnival Dream Nina dried me off with her hair-drier then consoled me with several French martinis.

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Now, this is more like it!

Ah, the life of a COOL travel cat…

Check out Cave-Tubing for prices and stuff. Here’s their contact information:

Email: info@cave-tubing.com
Phone: 011-501-605-1575

Photos by Nina Munteanu & others

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Cruise with Toulouse: Climbing a Mayan Temple

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Main Temple of Chacchoben Mayan Site

There’s nothing like the end of the world to motivate your holiday plans.

So, when Nina roused me out of bed aboard the cruise ship Carnival Dream for a shore excursion to the Chacchoben Mayan Ruins of Costa Maya, I thought “why not?”

I always wanted to get a closer look at the place where those nasty “End of the World” rumors began …

Costa Maya is located on the Yukatan Peninsula, a limestone tableland of forests and mountains in southern Mexico, where the Mayan civilization colonized some 3000 years ago. The Mayans built incredible cities, particularly between 250 and 900 AD, when they advanced astronomy, math, and calendar-making equal to the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. They were doing all this, I might  add, at a time when Europeans were struggling in the pre-chivalry stage of the Dark Ages.
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"Ships Alley" at Costa Maya Pier

Serfdom and Feudalism reigned at the expense of creativity, learning and innovation. And let’s not forget that back then The Iron Maiden wasn’t the name of a rock band and dudes made a legitimate living in the torture business. There’s a reason it was called the Dark Ages. In the meantime, the Mayans were cutting out the hearts of children to sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl (Kukulcan), a bird-snake god, or Chac the rain god.

OK. Here’s the cool bit: The Mayan Long Count Calendar provides a

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Giant Kapok buttresses embrace ancient ruins in Costa Maya jungle

set period of cycles encompassing a 5,125-year era from the  Gregorian date of August 11, 3114 BC. The winter solstice of 2012 marks the end of an era (paralleling the Greek’s cycle of catastrophe, the End of the Age or Suntelia Aion) when the “wrathful father Sun will eclipse the dark rift at the centre of the Galaxy.” Okay…this is cool too: the mythical serpent of light resides in the heavens (the Milky Way) and viewed at the galactic central point (near Sagittarius) the serpent eats its own tail (the Ouroboros). In the mythical cycle of catastrophic change, the Suntelia Aion occurs when the sun rises out of the mouth of the Ouroboros, predicted to occur on the winter solstice of 2012. The movie 2012 capitalized on the hysteria that solar, seismic, volcanic electromagnetic and/or military activity will spark a physical catastrophe and destroy our world. Others believe that this “end

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Toulouse rests in front of the second temple

of an era” symbolizes the ushering in of a new era of global consciousness  and new respect for the planet.

Nina and I joined a bus tour to the Mayan ruins of Chacchoben, which means “place of red corn”. Once the tour group disembarked, we sidled away (sly grin) in search of adventure in the sultry jungle of Quintana Roo. Nina and I wandered among huge buttressed kapoks, acacias and palms, inhaling the pungent aromas of epiphytic orchids, hanging moss and other exotic plants. The jungle yielded her secrets grudgingly, I thought, as we picked our way

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Mayan Temple nestled in the Jungle

through the chaos of tree trunks and roots—locked in a twisted embrace around stone stairs and other ancient remnants. The ground was littered with kapok seed pods (they reminded me of something else; this is jaguar country…). Nina (in her Google-wisdom) informed me that the fiber inside is used as an alternative to  down as filling in mattresses, pillows, upholstery and stuffed toys. I know what you’re thinking; don’t even go there…

The jungle yielded three temple pyramids, all perfectly aligned. The main temple stood on the grassy terrace of El Gran Basamento, at the top of a huge stone staircase. I glimpsed no eerie serpent statues or bas-reliefs of jaguar god-men. But I experienced something far more dangerous.

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Toulouse climbs a Kapok tree

I was climbing the steep pyramid face of the third temple to catch a glimpse of the top which was used to track the sun’s path. Then froze. A bright red snake slithered out from a dark crack in one of the stairs just inches in front of me. Luckily, he didn’t feel like snacking—most snakes this size typically eat small reptiles, lizards, frogs and mammals (that’s me!). Instead, he wandered up the stairway, perhaps looking for a quiet place to sunbathe. Nina gasped. She snatched me and stuffed me in her bag.

“No more adventures for you!”

When we rejoined the tour, Nina described the snake to our guide. He also gasped and informed her that we’d come within inches of Costa Maya’s most deadly snake, the Coral Snake.

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Toulouse escapes a deadly snake!

As Nina walked back to the bus, jostling me in her backpack, I pointed out the haunting “meowing” notes of the Quetzal bird. But Nina was mumbling something to herself about knapsacks and didn’t hear. By the way, the Quetzal was prized by the Maya for its feathers and symbolizes freedom (Nina isn’t the only one who uses Google).

Well, I’d done a little reading myself and I blithely informed Nina that the snake I almost bumped into didn’t have the distinct bands of the venomous Coral Snake (they are known for their colorful red, yellow and black bands). With the exception of no obvious black “collar” neck and dull yellow/orange face, the colorations of our snake resembled Yukatan’s Red Coffee snake, often mistaken for the coral snake but perfectly harmless—unless you’re a small mammal (like me), that is. I suggested that my little snake “friend” might also have been a non-venomous Red Coachwhip snake, which also has a reddish braided body and tapered whip-like tail. In any case, all this is truly moot to me: any of them would have been happy to eat me, if they were feeling at all peckish. I am, after all, very good looking. :-3

Nina then pithily informed me that not all coral snakes show banding. And it was the right size (typically 20-30 inches long). Oh…

As we made our way back to the boat, I recalled something Drunvalo Melchizekek, Mayan spokesman, said in a presentation about 2012:

“…The world you know, that you live in, is not what you think it is. We modern people think the world is solid and real, and that nothing can change it…The Maya wish to inform you this is not true. The world is really images that can be controlled by consciousness, especially consciousness that is connected directly in the human heart.”

I guess that’s why I didn’t get eaten or zapped by the snake… “You don’t want to harm me…”

…I’m Toulouse LeTrek the COOL travel cat… :-3

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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