Planes, Trains and Orthotics: A Middle-Age Woman's Guide to Travel

For those of you middle age women who often feel like your mind and body are falling apart, spend a few days with some of your friends. The last few days have completely validated my aches and complaints and for the first time in a long time, I have realized that I am not alone. While we gabbed about nearly every topic under the sun, a disproportionate amount of time was spent on foot maladies, determining which shoes should be worn for our trek around Chicago--style or comfort and would we get cold in a city that is known for its wind.  Unfortunately, a few chose style--an incorrect choice after walking seven miles. Needless to say, by the end of our day, there was significant limping going on. And then there was the bathroom visits. For women of our age, making sure there is easy access to a bathroom is critical to the success of any outing. We hit the jackpot on the food tour as there was a bathroom at nearly every stop--and we all went en masse at each opportunity. The way we all

I am headed to a "reunion of sorts."  Years ago, three women and I went through a difficult time in our lives and vowed that although we lived in different parts of the country, we would share new, and happy memories together in the future.  For more than 20 years, we have kept that promise and this time, our new and happy memories will be made in Chicago. But any reunion means planning is involved and I wasn't sure I was up for the task. My past experiences in the Windy City consisted of non-descript conference rooms that could have just as easily been located at the Marriott at Newark Airport. In fact, my knowlege of Chicago includes: -It is located on Lake Michigan; -It has two baseball teams; -There was a big fire here in the 1800's that had something to do with a cow; -Rahm Emmanuel is Mayor, at least for a little while longer; and -Tickets to "Hamilton" are cheaper here than in NYC. With that inadequate foundation I turned to the only true rel

Last full day of vacation: There is nothing that demonstrates the difference between the American and European mindframe than the hours of the hotel fitness center.  In the United States, if a hotel gym isn't open 24 hours a day, it's usually pretty darn close. They recognize that many who regularly workout want to accomplish this task prior to the beginning of their work day while others enjoy a run or weightlifting after a long day of wheeling and dealing.  Thus, providing flexible fitness center hours makes for happy guests. This is not the case here in Croatia. At home, Bob and I are regular morning attendees at our local gym and similarly when we travel, we like to get up early, workout and then begin the day. Here, no fitness center opened before 8 am.  This was less of a problem for me because on hiking days, I was saving all my strength and energy for whatever Kilimanjaro-like mountain layed ahead of me that day but for Bob, this became an issue. On one morning wh

Days 7 and 8 (I think). Our last few days of hiking were quite eventful. On Thursday, we hiked the west coast of the Island of Hvar, with its beautiful views of the Adriatic.  The thing about this hike was that while the views were incredible, there were virtually no people. It was probably all the bloody rocks. Imagine our surprise, when as we were walking through a wooded area (there were rocks there too) and we began to hear multiple voices--all of which seemed to be at a fevered pitch.  We were about 10 miles from the middle of nowhere, when like a jack-in-the-box, a young woman with a lot of female attributes and not enough bathing suit, jumped out of a bush holding a map and said, "I don't speak good English," and as she pointed to the map said, "I'm looking for this bitch!" At that moment, several things went through my mind. First, what "bitch" was on a map and second, could she be dresses any more inappropriately? The first question wa