Results matching “andrew evans” from Intelligent Travel Blog

Andrew Evans discovers how to bring home the ultimate souvenir from Maine.

It felt like a trick question on the SAT: You're visiting the coast of Maine and loving all the delicious fresh lobster. You decide that you want to bring some home to share with your family. Lobsters must be alive in order to be cooked safely and taste fresh. To stay alive out of water lobsters must be kept cold and wet. Your trip back home consists of a one-hour drive to the airport, a 90-minute flight to LaGuardia, a five-hour bus ride to Washington, D.C., plus all the in-between waiting time that adds up to a twelve-hour transit. What do you do?

Well, it took some phone calls and asking around, but Mainers have been smuggling lobster all over the place for years and they showed me how it's done... Find out after the jump.

Our November/December issue is on its way to a newsstand or mailbox near you - and features our sixth annual Destinations Rated Survey. Conducted by the National Geographic Society's Center for Sustainable Destinations, this year's survey looked at how tourism is impacting some of the iconic places we first surveyed in 2003 and rated in 2004, with several new places added to the mix.

Topping the list this year was the "vigorously protected" Fjords region in Norway, followed by the "awe-inspiring" Kootenay/Yoho National Parks in British Columbia and the "authentic Francophone" villages of the Gaspé Peninsula in Quebec. And pulling up the rear, garnering strong concern from our panel of tourism management experts, was the "cruise ship hell" of Grand Bahama Island in the Bahamas, the war-torn and "intimidating" status of Bethlehem in the West Bank, and Spain's Costa del Sol region, which one panelist called a "textbook example of tourism run amok." See all the results from this year's survey, and more comments from the panelists online.

Elsewhere in the issue, you'll find Jim Conaway's pitch-perfect piece on Portland, Oregon, and Andrew Evans' On Foot walking guide to Valpariso, Chile, which he reported for us while filming the pilot for "Confessions of a Travel Writer." Melina Bellows heads to the boreal forests of Central Mexico "In Search of Magic" (hint: it involves butterflies), and Raphael Kadushin brings us tidings of good cheer from Copenhagen, Denmark's eco-aware capital city, which is hosting the U.N. Climate Change Conference this December.

Want more? Visit our online table of contents for more maps, photo galleries, and World Wise quizzes from the issue.

Andrew Evans confronts his acrophobia on Canada's newest vertical challenge: the Via Ferrata.

I didn't die--that's the short version. The End. Now you can click back to whatever you were reading before.

Not that I wouldn't mind dying in the Canadian Rockies. It's a pretty spectacular place inhabited by friendly locals and mild-mannered grizzly bears. The extreme drop-offs are tremendously beautiful, I concur. I also find them hugely terrifying.  

As a self-diagnosed acrophobic, I try to avoid rock ledges, steep mountain chasms and thousand-foot-high cliffs.  Smart people have often explained that I am not really afraid of heights--I'm only afraid of falling. Reading up on vertigo, I have learned that mine is not an irrational fear. I merely have "vestibular issues" that affect my balance and which are most likely evolutionary. Apparently, my ancient ancestors also suffered from falling dreams.

In Canada, I got to face my fears head on. Travel helps us do that by dropping us into unusual or difficult circumstances and then forcing us to do things we don't normally choose to do. For me, that meant getting dropped off by helicopter onto a mountain ridge some 7,000 feet above sea level.  

Canadian Mountain Holidays (CMH) are better known for inventing heli-skiing, where hardcore skiers can access some of the greatest and highest virgin powder on Earth by helicopter. The same idea works for eager hikers in summertime: the 3-minute helicopter ride lets you skip the ten-hour base climb and get right to the good stuff. Or in my case, the super scary stuff.

Last night, Amy Tan helped launch our new "Journeys" series of live conversations with great writers at National Geographic headquarters here in D.C. The bestselling author of such books as The Joy Luck Club, The Kitchen's God's Wife, and most recently, Saving Fish From Drowning, was gracious, funny, and inspiring. (And a fabulous dresser!) The sold-out crowd enjoyed the wide-ranging, often intimate discussion she had with Traveler contributing editor and book reviewer Don George. Some highlights:

• She wrote The Joy Luck Club in four months.

• She's working on her next novel, which was inspired by the remote Chinese village she visited and wrote about for National Geographic Magazine's May 2008 issue.

• Her mother's voice is a constant in her writings--The Kitchen God's Wife was inspired by her mother's story and the dead tour-guide narrator of Saving Fish From Drowning stemmed from a dream she had of her mother after her death: "All the things that I used to find annoying [about my mother], I now find charming."

• Her inspiration for books usually stems from a vivid image of a specific place: for The Joy Luck Club it was Guilin.

• How has her writing helped her grow and change? "I write to discover that; with each book I learn something new about myself."

This was also the first Twitter-friendly event the Society has sponsored, so to learn more about what people thought of the talk, and to get a glimpse of some of what was discussed you can search for #amytannglive. For upcoming events and more news from the Society, be sure to follow @NatGeoScoop.

The next speaker in the series is Simon Winchester, author of The Man Who Loved China and The Professor and the Madman, and editor of the 2009 edition of Best American Travel Writing. He'll be coming to National Geographic on October 15, 2009. Click here for more information and to buy tickets. For more inspiring travel reads, check in each month for Don George's Trip Lit column, or browse our Ultimate Travel Library.

Photo: Amy Tan and Don George in conversation, by Andrew Evans.

IT contributing writer Andrew Evans sends along this interview with his 97-year-old grandfather who vividly recalls his first transatlantic flight in 1949.
Not to boast, but in the last year I've crossed the Atlantic twelve times. In fact, I've done the 8-hour trip so many times, it's become rather routine: I doze during taxi and take-off, read until dinner, watch some movie I didn't want to pay for at home, then fall into fitful sleep before Greenland. Hopefully, I wake up somewhere over the English Channel. It's all so easy and yet still so amazing to me how every night, thousands of people pile into big metal pipes and wake up on the other side of the ocean.

In 1492, it took Christopher Columbus exactly 70 days to cross the same ocean and there was no SkyMall to pass the time. In 1776, tall sailing ships crossed the Atlantic in about 54 days and by the turn of the last century, steam-powered ocean liners crossed in about a week.

In 1912, just two months after the Titanic slipped beneath the icy North Atlantic waves, my grandfather Robert Brown Evans was born. Airplanes were just getting off the ground but by the time my grandfather was a teenager, Charles Lindbergh had made his famous flight from New York to Paris in thirty-three and a half hours.

As a paperboy supporting his widowed mother and three sisters, my grandfather never expected to travel outside his native Salt Lake City. But in 1929, when he was just 17 years old, he won an award for signing up the most new subscribers. His prize was a train trip to Seattle and a quick spin in a World War I biplane: "There was a single passenger seat in the front and a seat in back for the pilot, so they squeezed me and another boy up front. Right before we took off, the mechanics came and switched the propeller on the front of the plane, which of course, made me feel uneasy."

When you tell people you're a travel writer, most people look at you with a bit of envy in their eyes. But the newest reality show to hit the Travel Channel hopes to dispel (or perhaps perpetuate) the myths of living the high life on a magazine's dime. Just ask Andrew Evans, a regular contributor to National Geographic Traveler and Intelligent Travel and one of the five scribes featured in "Confessions of a Travel Writer," premiering tonight at 9 p.m. EST. He and his cohorts traveled to Chile several months ago (see his blog posts here) while Andrew reported a story for the magazine on Valparaíso (tentatively scheduled to hit newsstands in our November/December issue). We asked him to offer a glimpse of what's in store.

"Travel writing is a dream job, but it's still a job," he writes. "I think the show employs a kind of nail-biting, Saving Private Ryan kind of realism in order to shock and awe the viewing public into how challenging travel writing can be--trials like antique-furnished boutique hotels, gourmet 12-course taster menus, and remembering NEVER to look into the camera . . you know, all the travel writing essentials. In a bizarre coincidence of fate and foreshadowing, this pilot takes the form of a timely John Hughes tribute as it is basically five travel writers re-enacting the Breakfast Club in South America."

Watch tonight to find out whether Andrew is the brain, basket case, athlete, princess, or criminal... and if you're a fan of Andrew's work, help him get to Antarctica by voting for him in the Quark Expeditions blogger challenge!

[Confessions of a Travel Writer]

IT contributing writer Andrew Evans sends along this post about one of the plus beaux villages in Quebec.

Canada's different. I keep on remembering that every time I go back, and then I slowly forget it until the next time. It's not the language or the money or the license plates. It's just this feeling of openness that probably comes from having a lot of land and not a whole lot of people.    

Traveling in Québec, I found a small town that I will never forget. It's very small--only about 1,200 people live there--but its cinematic beauty and idyllic atmosphere is so enchanting that I began wondering how I might move there one day.  

From afar, L'Anse-Saint-Jean looks like the kind of bucolic scene you learn to oil paint on Saturday morning television. In the distance stand the majestic rock cliffs that border the Saguenay fjord--one of the longest fjords in the world. In the middle ground are the silver-blue waters of the fjord itself disturbed only by a tiny hump of an island named St. Jean. Spotted dairy cows graze between a marshy shoreline and the surrounding hills of dark green pines. A scattered chain of century-old farmhouses follows the dusty road into the foreground with its requisite steeple, happy front yard flowers spilling over white picket fences and a babbling brook to boot. Above the rushing water sits the finishing touch: an old-fashioned covered bridge made entirely of wood, Le Pont du Faubourg.

The covered bridge and the town of L'Anse-Saint-Jean are so infectiously cute, the scene was depicted on the back of Canada's original $1,000 bill. Eighteen years passed before anyone in the town laid eyes on a thousand dollar bill and recognized their hometown on the money. The series has since been discontinued and back in 1996, a terrible flood destroyed the town's famous bridge. The loss of the bridge in real life and on paper was a tragedy for what it represented--the disappearance of a small town.

When Andrew Evans left Chile's Patagonia region, he had multiple filled notebooks and a camera that kept blinking "insufficient memory." Here, he shares some of his sufficient memories from his trip.

Some countries just don't get along--just the way people do. France grumbles at England, America shakes its head at France. The Swedes mock the Norwegians, Korea does not love Japan and the whole of Central America thinks Costa Rica needs to take it down a notch. All these little national rivalries are fascinating and hilarious, as long as countries stick to name-calling and don't start trading bullets.  

Patagonia spans two countries that love to argue: Argentina and Chile.  Argentina accuses Chile of fudging its maps to look bigger than she really is, like padding a bra, while Chile thinks Argentina is a snob who's too good for the rest of South America. Both still squabble about who gets the bigger pie slice of Antarctica, who has the southernmost city and who makes the better glass of red wine. Neither country can stand the other's accent.

Like any two siblings, there's a degree of jealousy in the mix. Argentina secretly craves Chile's starched collar, its more stable economy and sound business record. Chile thinks Argentina is more sophisticated and wears way better shoes. The differences often seem petty, especially considering how much the two countries have in common: both Argentina and Chile harbor painful political histories, both are nations of immigrants and both own a piece of Patagonia.

IT contributing writer Andrew Evans sends along a carbon footprint-free blog post after spending this afternoon at the Centre for Alternative Technology in northern Wales.

IT Contributor Andrew Evans offers an all-inclusive guide to all things penguin.

Penguins are never passé. Be they marching or tapping their happy feet toward another sequel, the little black and white birds are still very much in everybody's minds and hearts. I also imagine that kids who play with plastic penguins in their Happy Meals grow up to be bigger kids who want to see the birds in real life, in the wild.

Admittedly, live penguins are so astonishingly cool--the way they tilt their heads from side to side to get a good look at you, the strange braying chorus they sing, and that distinctive penguin smell that's part fishy dishwasher detergent and part dusty, old attic. Travelers often bemoan the fact that penguin Grand Central is in almost-inaccessible Antarctica, a destination better suited for scientists, explorers, and millionaires. Still, that doesn't mean you have to cross wild penguins off your wish list. The southern hemisphere is filled with alternatives for seeing wild penguins in their natural habitats.

The following locations offer options for safe and sustainable human interaction with wild penguins:

1.    Isla Magdalena, Chile: This lone clump of rocks in the Strait of Magellan is home to over 50,000 breeding pairs of adorable Magellanic penguins. After a one-hour ferry ride from the city of Punta Arenas, the boat drops you off for a good 90-minute visit with the birds. A marked path guides you safely through the penguin nests and up to the island's lighthouse for a remarkable view. (Insider's tip: in case you're tempted to use your hands to climb up those giant mountains of yellow 'dirt' for a better view, don't. That isn't dirt.)

2.    Galápagos Islands, Ecuador: The Galápagos penguin is the world's northernmost penguin species. They live right on the equator, but look and act a lot like the penguins from colder climes. The best viewing spots are on Isabela island (the largest in the archipelago) and the west coast of Fernandina island.

3.    Boulders Beach, Simon's Town, South Africa: Gigantic granite boulders and tropical-looking turquoise inlets are the exotic home for the African or jackass penguin. A system of raised wooden walkways leads you right into the heart of penguin territory, including the penguins' own sandy beach. Afterwards, enjoy a swim at the people's beach next door.

When we launched the I Heart My City project, friend of IT Andrew Evans had a hard time figuring out which city he loved best. But he settled on Odessa, the fourth largest city in Ukraine, where he spent a good deal of time writing the Brandt Travel Guide to the country. "Imagine taking New Orleans and adding the weather of Marseilles, the people of Naples, the shop fronts of Coney Island, the grit of Baltimore, and the architecture of Paris and Rome," he writes. "It's the only place like it in the whole world."

Odessa is My City

The first place I take a visitor from out of town is Deribasovskaya Street.

When I crave Pizza I always go to Zara Pizzara.

To escape the speeding taxis I head to the waterfront.

If I want to window shop I go to Passazh.

For complete quiet, I can hide away at the Panteleimonsky Monastery.

If you come to my city, get your picture taken with one of the street performers' pet monkeys.

Being careful with how you spend your money but still hankering to go on a great trip this year? If you're in NYC this weekend, stop by The New York Times Travel Show, this Saturday, February 7, and Sunday, February 8, at the Javits Convention Center.

The show features seminars on how to score spectacular travel bargains in these troubled times, from industry superstars such as Arthur and Pauline Frommer, Rick Steves, and Samantha Brown. Andrew Zimmern, of "Bizarre Foods," will present, as will travel writer Patricia Schultz, author of 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, focusing on not-to-miss destinations in the U.S. and Canada. Plus you can catch IT contributor Andrew Evans discuss "Making Your Wildest Travel Dreams a Reality" on a panel with other travel writers and industry experts.

In addition to travel writing seminars and tips on gay, adventure, spa, luxury, and family travel deals, six performance stages will come alive with dancers from India and Indonesia, Mongolian throat-singing, Garifuna music and culture, Tarahumara dance, Greek singer Eleni Alexandris, and many more. You can learn how to brew your own Peruvian pisco sour or taste an array of South African wines.

The $15/day admission fee affords you access to seminars, stage performances, exhibitors, book signings at the on-site Borders, and giveaways galore, including one that really caught our eye, a trip to Nicaragua auctioned off by the Mesoamerican Ecotourism Alliance. Plus, SeaWorld's bringing some penguins, a toucan, and a sloth for the kids' enjoyment or they could opt to scuba at the heated pool.

The New York Times Travel Show's array of cultural performances and food and drink tastings will surely get you charged up for your next well-planned, memorable, and economical trip.

Photo: via the New York Times Travel Show website

Friend of IT Andrew Evans is just back from a trip to Bostwana, Africa, where he got savvy on the ways of the king of the jungle.

Behind every good traveler is a good local guide, someone who can give you the inside scoop on his or her own backyard. A guide also keeps you out of trouble--that's especially true in Africa where one wrong step could be your last.  That sounds a little bit melodramatic, but just wait until you're actually out there in the open wilderness with a pod of four-ton hippos staring back at you, snorting angry mist through their flared nostrils . . . and then a fifteen-foot crocodile just pops up from the ripples and winks at you. A guide comes in handy.
 
Joseph Makhulo is the game tracker at Xaranna Camp of the Okavango Delta. As a member of the San tribe, Joseph knows the African bush like his own backyard... because that's what it is. On a recent trip to Botswana, he shared his amazing knowledge with me, the kind of Boy Scout skills that date back a few thousand years before the Boy Scouts. Joseph taught me how to make a fire with two sticks, he showed me how to hide in the grass when a big, bull elephant got a little too close for comfort, and he showed me how to track lions. The highlight of my safari was a pride of lionesses that we spotted getting ready to go hunting after dusk--Joseph tracked them down in under an hour.  I was most fascinated by his skills, so the next night, he showed me how it's done.

Find out how after the jump.  

Friend of IT Andrew Evans spent some serious time in Iceland while researching his book - he's the author of the Bradt Travel Guide to the country - and he says that with the recent economic downturn, now might be the best time to go. Andrew sent along some pictures that his partner, Brian Gratwicke, took while exploring the region, and after viewing them, we're about ready to book our flights... 

Ever dreamt of visiting Iceland but were scared of Scandinavian prices? Well, now is the time to head north. In the midst of the worldwide financial crisis, tiny Iceland has been one of the hardest hit. This past week, Iceland’s central bank stopped pegging its currency to the Euro, leading to rapid devaluation of the Icelandic krona. This is devastating for Icelanders, of course, but for anyone who craves pristine lava landscapes or bathing in natural hot springs—your moment has come. 

Among seasoned travelers, Iceland is notorious for being an outrageously expensive destination. Basic travel amenities like food, rental cars, and hotels typically cost double or triple the price of the same in North America and even Europe. To give you some idea of how expensive it is, The Economist ranked Iceland number one on their global Big Mac Index: the per-capita-real cost of a McDonald’s hamburger.

Last year, the US dollar was worth about 60 Icelandic krona. This week the exchange rate jumped to 110 krona to the dollar. That basically means that buying a hot dog in Reykjavík is cheaper than getting one in Central Park. Until real prices are readjusted, traveling in Iceland will cost roughly half of what it normally has.  That still doesn’t make Iceland cheap, but it does make it a heckuva lot more affordable to the average American traveler. What’s more, now there’s a European country that actually wants American dollars!

So how is Iceland in October?  Gorgeous and still not too cold.  Of course, the broader question here is how the current economic crisis will continue to affect global travel trends. As major markets in Asia, Europe, and the Middle East struggle with uncertainty, our concept of affordable and accessible destinations is likely to shift even more dramatically—especially if your travel budget is tied up on Wall Street.

Photos: Brian Gratwicke

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Travel writer Andrew Evans recently returned from a trip to Panama, where his dreams of a cross-continental stroll were dashed...

All I wanted to do was to walk across the bridge. That’s all. And yet it almost got me arrested. 

Let me explain: I love crossing borders, especially on foot. I think anyone who loves maps knows what I’m talking about. Stepping from one country into the next is kind of exciting, right? I don’t need to skydive or bungee jump to get a thrill. Just let me stand with one foot in each country and be in two places at once.  And why stop there?  Why not up the ante and walk between two continents? Well, because you can’t, that’s why. I know because I tried. 

On a recent assignment to Panama City, I paid a taxi to drop me off in North America so I could walk back to South America. What’s more, the ride took exactly five minutes and only cost me two bucks. We simply drove across the Bridge of the Americas and over the Panama Canal. Man, was I excited—here I was, about to cross the waterway that links the world’s two great oceans while separating the two American landmasses. It was a glorious moment, the Pacific Ocean was shining in the distance and rows of giant cargo ships were lining up to pass under the bridge and on to the Atlantic. I raised my foot in North America when a uniformed soldier started yelling at me. Then he was running at me, machine gun in hand. 

Travel writer and guidebook author Andrew Evans has just returned from a trip to Israel, where his eating experiences were downright heavenly.

 “Don’t eat too much bread” seems odd counsel coming from the guy who baked it, but Israeli chef Moshe Basson doesn’t want me filling up on carbs, no matter how great it tastes. As a leader in the slow food movement, he values patience and tradition–the menu at his Jerusalem restaurant, Eucalyptus, is fully inspired by the Bible. Strange herbs mentioned in the Book of Psalms turn up in his appetizers and the kitchen prefers clay pots to Tupperware. The chef’s attempts at classic Old Testament meals are sinfully delicious, like his lentil soup with boiled yellow lentils and hyssop, or the braised lamb with pomegranate.

As the world becomes increasingly health conscious, both Jew and Gentile have renewed their focus on a Mediterranean diet and the natural products of the Holy Land, namely figs, barley, wheat, grapes, dates, olives, cheese, and fish. What’s more, because Israel suffers from a severe water shortage, sustainable agriculture has been a way of life ever since Noah’s ark. My drive across the Judaean desert took me past the kiwi-fruit kibbutz and date plantations that keep Europe in fresh fruit. “Clean and green” is the new culinary mantra there, and it seems like every rooftop gutter directs runoff to a nearby fruit tree.

Travelers in the land of milk and honey should check out Mizpe Hayamim, a self-proclaimed “health farm” surrounded by clean air and mountain views of the Sea of Galilee. The organic kitchen supplies two in-house restaurants (one vegetarian) with the same local ingredients mentioned in the Gospels. The daily catch of tilapia is still known as “St. Peter’s Fish” and served with lemon butter sauce and baked vegetables. The farm animals are all free-range and hormone-free, and whatever food gets left on your plate goes back to their trough. Also, the goats, sheep, cows (and buffalo) are milked to create well over a dozen types of cheeses, all of which appear on the breakfast buffet. But my favorite touch was the 24-hour “tea bar” loaded with fresh herbs, all picked that day (apparently, a cup of sage tea cures jet lag).

Suffice it to say that travel writer and guidebook author Andrew Evans knows a thing or two about how to navigate a city. But what happens when he arrives in Paris without a plan?

A few months back, I had to go to Paris “for work,” but last week I got to go back just because. I had no justifiable reason, no deep-seated purpose for this particular journey. Thanks to a very generous friend with beaucoup frequent-flier miles, I could get there and I was delighted. Going back so soon meant that I really had no agenda, nothing to do other than “be” in Paris.

My first new discovery was Velib, the city’s free bike service with some 100,000 bicycles stationed all about town. A credit card unleashed my first set of wheels somewhere in the 7th. Ten minutes later I had pedaled past a mime (yes, really), tore down the Champs-Elysées and dodged rush hour at Place de La Concorde, ringing my spunky little bell at passing Peugeots. The free bike program was launched last year in order to lessen traffic congestion and clean up the air in Paris. It’s working. I rode from the 18th to the 13th and from the 20th to the 2nd, all on designated bike lanes. No matter where I was, there was a free bike on hand and no matter where I stopped, there was a place to leave it. It’s an awesome way to see the city, especially if you have no agenda.

The exercise also did me good because I ate a lot (hey, it’s Paris). I stopped at Ladurée for dainty black currant macaroons; visited Berthillon for a decadent ice cream sundae on the Île St-Louis; went to Foucher for chocolate. I had duck, three different ways: for lunch, dinner and lunch the next day (that would be confit, magret, and à l’orange). I slurped phở at my favorite Vietnamese place and burrowed through 250 kinds of cheese at Fromagerie Rigattieri. 

When you go to pick out a guidebook, there's always a risk. While you expect to be getting a fantastic compass to help you navigate your travels, you could end up with a poorly-written, out-of-date, or worse, completely fabricated disaster. Luckily, travel writer Andrew Evans, who has written several guidebooks, is here to um, guide us through the buying process.

In his recent book “Do Travel Writers Go to Hell?” a very smug Thomas Kohnstamm confesses to accepting bribes, plagiarizing text, and not even visiting the countries he was covering for travel publisher Lonely Planet.  One man’s publicity nightmare is another man’s royalty check, yes, but where does this leave the traveler? How reliable is any one guidebook and how can travelers avoid buying fiction when they’re looking for facts? 

For starters, the popular conception of the travel writer is a myth. We do not run around the world with limitless corporate credit cards getting free spa packages and business-class upgrades. How does it happen? For a new title, I usually travel for at least two to three months in the country, spending 10-12 hours a day doing intensive research. Everything is research, whether I’m noting how long it takes to walk from the train station to the beach or remembering the cleanest bathrooms. Obviously, it’s impossible to see and do everything, but I try my best since nothing beats writing about a place firsthand. As backup, I collect every scrap of paper I can find on-site:  tourist brochures, café menus—even phone books. The Internet is a great secondary source once I’m home and writing things up. 

No (gasp!), guidebooks are rarely fact-checked—at least not in the way that magazines and newspapers get fact-checked. Authors are contractually liable for the information they submit so the onus is on us to get it right the first time. Proofreaders and regional experts will review the manuscript to check for inconsistencies and blatant misrepresentation but they can’t vet every phone number or hotel review. Instead, sections of the book are spot-checked to get a sense of the overall level of accuracy. If it passes the test it goes to press. 

Enter you, the savvy traveler in search of the perfect guide. Here’s a few tips to help you find what you’re after:

Be a Picky Eater: Guidebooks are like restaurants—sometimes the better ones are harder to find. Resist the temptation to grab the first thing you see. Before you head to the bookstore, check online to see every title that's available.

Check the Sell-By Date: Start with today’s date and subtract one year. That’s about the last time the author was in country for any given title, even the ones with next year’s date on the cover (e.g. France 2009). Always check the date of first publication on the inside cover and verify if subsequent dates represent actual updated editions of just reprints or partial updates. A quality guidebook has a lifespan of two to three years, after which it usually needs to be fully updated.   

How Many Travel Writers Does It Take To Screw In a Lightbulb? Just one, sometimes two. Generally, the more writers involved in a single guide, the lower the quality. Varied experience and different voices mean that a separate editor has to massage the text into a single book and risk losing authenticity. The exception to the rule are multi-author books to huge countries like Russia, China, Brazil, or Indonesia—in which case you should really consider buying a region-specific guidebook. Avoid the thick, 1,000+ page tomes that are too “all-inclusive” to carry any sustenance. Most of these are cut-and-paste jobs gleaned from smaller guidebooks.

Traveler's Associate Editor Amy Alipio offers up some city-licious links and other news from the City Life team.

Get Some Dim Sum: At least, while you still can. Check out Andrew Evans' interesting post on Gridskipper.com about the gentrification of Chinatowns, Washington’s in particular.

Map it Out: We like superfuture’s cool maps for cities around the world, with shops and eateries pinpointed in colorful, easy-to-read fashion, like this map of London’s Soho.

Cupcake Love: We don’t know about other city lovers, but we at City Life are out of our minds for cupcakes. Which is why we stepped up our workout program when we read that Beverly Hills-based Sprinkles is looking to open an outpost in D.C., one of 16 cities soon to be graced with the confectioner's cakes. For City Lifers in Phoenix, Sprinkles is set to open at 4501 North Scottsdale Road this month.

Extreme Makeover City Edition: Maverick urban planner and three-time mayor of Curitiba, Brazil, Jaime Lerner gave this entertaining talk at the March 2007 TED Conference, but it’s just been posted online now. “Every city in the world can be improved in less than three years,” Lerner says. He ought to know: His TED biography says that he “transformed a gridlocked commercial artery into a spacious pedestrian mall over a long weekend, before skeptical merchants had time to finish reading their Monday papers.”

Photo: Chinatown in LA, by Adamina, via the Intelligent Travel Flickr pool

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