NIGHTMARES, ANYONE? These curtains look ordinary at first glance. Who scrutinizes the design on hotel room curtains? But your eyes have registered the subtle depiction that your conscious mind has failed to process: insects are crawling up the drapes.
Nightmares, anyone? Insects crawling up bedroom curtains.
Bugs in hotels
Later, the insidious images creep into your cognizance. You’re sleeping—or trying to sleep—and from from the depths of your subconscious rise ugly apparitions of insects—giant insects—marching upwards. They’re frolicking among… what are those? Larvae? And the larvae begin to metamorphose, and the juveniles become adults, and the adults swell to the size of full grown boxers, all brown, marching, swarming up the curtains and on to…
In your drowsy agitation, something touches your skin—a corner of the pillow case, a lock of hair, the antenna of an oversized beetle. Your eyes fly open. Now every dark or bumpy thing in the room looks like a creepy-crawler: the handles on the windows, the drawer pulls, a hook on the wall, and—is that a shoe or…
Hallucinations in hotel rooms are as unwelcome as bugs in hotels. Why did this brand-new, otherwise fabulous villa in Florence choose an insect motif for its bedroom curtains?
Larva: The active immature form of an insect before its metamorphosis to adulthood. Suitable as a motif for bedroom curtains.
It’s 2014 in the airport of a state capital and this is the luggage scale.
Here it is, 2014, and we are in the airport of Springfield IL, the capital of Illinois. I’m amused to see the actual, in-use, antique airport luggage scale at the check-in counter.
Springfield Il airport
We are leaving Springfield. Landing here, less than 24 hours ago, was remarkable. The Skywest jet’s wheels hit the runway hard and—nose up—we immediately took off again, bumpily. We were in row 2, so clearly heard one of the flight attendants exclaim “oh my god!” No explanation came from the captain. Just silence.
The whole plane was silent. Deadly silent.
We rose higher and banked steeply, overlooking the green-green-green of Springfield’s farms. Finally, many minutes later, the captain came on over the P.A. It was gusty, he said, with severe wind sheer on the runway. He’d try to land once more—otherwise, we’d go to another airport.
I looked down at the trees—we weren’t very high—and didn’t see any movement at all. No swaying branches, no bending poplars. He’s probably just a bad pilot, I thought. He botched the landing.
We circled once more, then aimed for the runway. Any white-knucklers onboard must have been beside themselves.
It was bumpy, but we landed. The clothes of the tarmac personnel whipped about their bodies. I descended the airplane stairs certain I’d be blown down them with my hand luggage acting as a sail.
Springfield Il airport. More interesting than I expected.
90% of the times I bypass a long line at a ladies’ room, I find an unused, available, extra-wide, “accessible” cubicle. Trained by parking spaces, women think those toilet stalls are reserved for handicapped women. No ladies—they’re not!
Disabled women have a right to an accessible toilet, but not necessarily without waiting their turn. In an airport, we all expect to wait.
Handicap stall use
So I use the handicap stall. Yes, I’m cutting the line. I could suggest that the first woman waiting use the empty stall, but she has already decided to avoid it. And then I’d return to the end of an even longer line, which grew while I was inside trying to make things happen. And while I’m way back in the line, how do I know everyone ahead of me will continue to make use of the accessible stall?
So I use it. And from then on, at least for a while, the line moves quicker. I get an advantage, but everyone else in the line also benefits.
A pickpocket uses a newspaper to hide his steal. Any external storage is vulnerable, be it a pocket, purse, or fannypack.
The question we’re most asked is… where should I carry my valuables? What’s the safest place to carry money?
And the ambiguous answer is… it depends on who you are and where you’re going.
First analyze yourself. Are you a worrier? Overconfident? Carefree? Forgetful? Only you can choose the level of security for you. Will you be trekking in the highlands of Peru? Walking with elephants in East Africa? Or going to museums and the opera in London? What’s the tone of your trip, elegant? grungy? in between? What’s the weather? Summer clothes, especially women’s, have fewer pockets and far less security. No one is likely to get into the pockets of your jeans if you have a heavy coat over them.
Safest place to carry money
We say keep your wallet in your tightest pocket, but in many situations that isn’t enough. A wallet in a visible pocket is an invitation. Awareness helps. But maybe you don’t need to carry a wallet. Slim down your necessities, if you can.
Excellent products are readily available for the safekeeping of your stuff. Under-shirt pouches are pretty good, but they can usually be detected and demanded in a mugging. For all but the most dangerous streets, they’re a good option. Better yet is the type of pouch that hangs inside the pants, attached to your belt by a loop. These come in a full range of materials, from nylon to cotton to leather. We love these.
The nimble fingers of a pickpocket can easily open a fanny pack while hidden from the victim’s view. Even a twisted wire will thwart the thief.
Another kind of pouch fastens around your waist and is worn beneath your clothes. These come in infinite styles, sizes, and varieties and are excellent for men and women. It’s a little more difficult to get to your money or credit card when you need it, but what’s a little effort? Sometimes these are referred to as moneybelts, but they’re not. A moneybelt is a regular leather belt worn outside trousers; it has a zippered compartment on the inside. You can fold in a few large bills or travelers checks, but it won’t hold much.
Secure your fanny pack zippers with paperclips, or anything to slow a thief.
What about the ubiquitous fanny pack, aka waist pouch, aka bumbag? Well, it’s good and it’s bad. On one hand, all your goodies are right in front, on your body, in sight. On the other hand, the fanny pack shouts out “here’s my stuff!” For the most part, Bob and I recommend them for security, if you don’t mind the fashion statement they make. We have never seen, and rarely heard of their straps being cut. However: in many locales pickpockets are extremely adept at opening fanny packs and stealing their contents quick as lightning, while you’re wearing it. I recommend a simple preventative: fasten the zipper with a safety pin or with a paperclip and rubber band. Anything to frustrate wandering fingers. For the fanatic, fanny packs can be found that incorporate numerous safety features, including steel cable through the strap, a concealed buckle, a hidden key clip, and built-in zipper locks.
Several companies make clothes for travelers with zippered, Velcroed, and hidden pockets. I haven’t seen a look that I like much, but these are an option if you care for the somewhat dowdy styles on offer.
Clever Travel Companion’s black tankStashitware men’s pocket undies.
Lastly, there’s a growing variety of pickpocket-proof underwear. The Clever Travel Companion makes a nice collection of briefs for men and women and zip-pocket tank tops. Stashitware makes several styles of underpants for men and women that have a huge central pocket I find most comfortable and useful. (And you have to love a company with the balls to use “shit” in its name.)
No solution is perfect. None is invincible. But if you carry only what you need, and secure those things wisely, you’ll avoid anxiety and better enjoy your travels. So dress down, stow your stuff, raise your antennas, swallow three spoonfuls of skepticism, and have a great journey.
Two pickpockets look back at their angry intended victim.
When in Prague, Czech your Wallet
We hit the cobblestones as soon as we had dropped our bags and admired our room in King George’s House hotel, an atmospheric 14th century building in Prague’s Staré Mesto district. The late-summer crowd of budget tourists absorbed us into their mass migration. We surrendered to their pace, joining pudgy, reddened, middle-aged German men in sleeveless t-shirts and Birkenstocks with socks, tattooed skinheads wearing studded collars, and dizzy-eyed long-hairs whose sole employment seemed to be wrapping strands of hair in multi-colored thread.
Since pickpockets operate where tourists congregate, we allowed the happily drifting crowd to sweep us along the narrow lanes. It wasn’t easy to peel our eyes away from the intriguing marionette shops, enticing beer joints, and the renaissance-costumed concert touts. But our mission meant scrutinizing people, not souvenirs and architecture. We disciplined ourselves to study the throng and began to get used to the faces, rhythm, and tempo around us.
When we emerged into a sunny clearing, we found ourselves at the foot of Charles Bridge, a magnet for tourists. The many graceful arches of this medieval bridge step across the broad Vltava River to the Mala Strana area. Mala Strana is a popular pub and restaurant district, and a little further up the hill is Prague Castle. So Charles Bridge is heavy with pedestrian traffic all day and late into the night. Nestled among its 18th century statues, artists and craftsmen ply their wares and musicians play everything from classical to klezmer. The bridge is a destination itself.
Thiefhunting
The two women at left are pickpockets. The two boys at right are their stalls. The woman at center was the intended victim.
We realized at once that the square at the foot of Charles Bridge offered a unique opportunity for pickpockets. A street of wild traffic and speeding trams separates old town from Charles Bridge. Everyone wishing to get from one place to the other must cross the street here at a stoplight. Crowds of a hundred or more people, mostly tourists, quickly accumulate on both sides of the street. Pickpockets have ample time to locate a mark, get in position, and work them while they cross.
Pickpockets in Prague
An affectionate couple on the street corner caught our attention in a big way. When the light changed and the traffic paused, they crossed the busy street among a mob of gawking tourists. But three quarters of the way across the street they abruptly turned and crossed back to where they had begun.
In the “matador” position, the pickpocket (left) slings a coat on her shoulder when she’s ready to work. The coat blocks others from seeing her handiwork.
There they stood, again waiting to cross with the next gathering crowd. The man’s hand casually rested on the woman’s right shoulder. The woman had a blue blazer hanging from her left shoulder. They were better dressed than any of the summer tourists, but somehow didn’t quite look like local business people, either.
The woman sidled up to a man waiting to cross. The light changed. The pedestrians stepped off the curb and surged around the nose of a tram, which had come to a stop in the crossers’ territory.
The man shifted his hand to the woman’s left shoulder, where he anchored her blazer. The woman used her left hand to extend the blazer, completely shielding her work. As we all reached the opposite curb, I fought through the crowd and tried to speak with the elderly gentleman who was the woman’s target.
In Prague at the Charles Bridge crossing, pickpockets block their marks as they cross the street to slow them down.
“Where are you from?” I asked him.
“Greece,” his wife said. The man was old and hard of hearing.
“Does he have his wallet?” I asked.
The wife didn’t understand.
“Portofoli?” I asked, pointing to the old man’s pocket and hoping I remembered the correct Greek word for wallet.
The wife felt her husband’s pocket and looked up at me in alarm. I looked wildly around for the affectionate couple but they were gone. Thinking frantically for the Greek word for pickpocket, I tried Spanish and Italian. Finally, klepsimo. The woman understood, but why not—the wallet was gone. She hurried away from me before I could say anything else, as if I were the thief.
You find the strangest things in airport lounges. Fancy banana liqueur?
Banana liqueur in a Turkish airport lounge. Is this a joke?
This was in the Turkish Air lounge in Izmir. Let me tell you: the Turkish Air lounge in Istanbul is fantastic! I love the cuisine of Turkey, and the lounge has a luscious sampling. In Istanbul, I want a long layover.
Of course I had to try the banana liqueur. Yep—very sweet. Probably mixes up well though, if you know what you’re doing.
Wait—I’m not saying that all baggage handlers are thieves—of course not. But when you put low-paid workers alone with the belongings of the privileged (those who can afford to fly), things are gonna go missing—sometimes.
We’ve all read the frequent reports of luggage theft at airports: by TSA, by airport baggage handlers, by airline employees, by outsiders entering baggage claim areas. When our luggage is out of our personal control it’s at risk. When we check it, when we send it through TSA checkpoints, when we put it in the overhead storage bins on planes, the risk of theft is there in some degree. There’s little we can do about it—but not nothing.
6 luggage security rules
I travel a lot* so I will use myself as a model from which you can modify to suit your style and habit. I travel with three bags: a large one which I check; a roll-on which I expect to take on the plane with me, and a shoulder bag which is always with me, no matter what.
1. The more valuable the item, the smaller the bag it travels in. Cash, jewelry, laptop, smartphone, passports, and keys go into my shoulder bag. I don’t leave this bag anywhere or entrust it to anyone. I alone am responsible for its safety and security.
2. Other valuable and necessary items go into the roll-on. The airlines have trained us: do not put valuables into your checked luggage. Their responsibility is limited. Checked bags do not always show up when and where they should, so the minimal things I must have in order to do my job (and enjoy my trip) go into the roll-on, along with valuables too bulky, heavy or secondary for my shoulder bag. Examples: paperwork, camera, backup hard drive, appropriate work clothes and shoes, computer power cord and plug adapters, and the minimal items necessary for a hotel overnight.
3. Be prepared to hand over your roll-on. Every once in a while I have to part with the roll-on, for example on a small plane where it must be checked or given up at the jetway. Therefore, I also keep a lightweight folded nylon tote in my roll-on. That way I can remove and hand carry some items I may want or need; my computer power cord, hard drive, papers I’m working with. I also carry a small supply of plastic cable locks in case I want to secure the roll-on’s zippers. Not that locking zippers is foolproof, but it’s a deterrent. Better than nothing.
On the left: Bob’s rig. A strip of white tape is just a spare piece, used to secure checked bags. On the right: Bambi’s set-up. Not aluminum, but still like new after five years of hard use.
4. Roll-on with security OR convenience. My roll-on is full of outside pockets for convenience, and big enough to fold in a suit or dress on a hanger. Bob’s is a lockable aluminum hardshell—very secure but sacrificing convenience. See He Packs, She Packs. I appreciate the convenience of my bag much more often than I miss the security of one like Bob’s. However, one single theft from my roll-on would probably turn that preference upside-down. Security and convenience are always a trade-off.
5. Choose your checked luggage with security in mind. At least think about the security of your checked bag. On its route through the airport, through security screening, onto luggage cars, as it’s loaded onto the plane and packed into the cargo hold, as it changes planes, and finally reverses these steps, it will be handled by dozens of employees. Most of these people are trustworthy; much of this time your bag will be in view of many workers, supervisors, and surveillance cameras. But sometimes your bag will be handled by a rotten egg—perhaps in a dark space without witnesses.
If that rotten egg—that thief—has a free moment to poach from a bag, which bag will it be? Firstly, it will be a bag that happens to be near him (or her) at the opportune moment—happenstance. Secondly, it will be the easiest to get into. Zip, plunge in the hand, grapple, grab, stash, and on to the next bag. Fast-fishing-treasure-hunt.
So, how does your bag fasten? Latches? Zipper? TSA locks? Luggage belt? Cable ties? Plastic wrap? As with pickpocketing, longer access time means more security (and less convenience—there’s that compromise again). I’m concerned enough to affix duct tape to the entire seam of my hard sided case—always. It’s ugly, for sure. But it doesn’t take long to put on and seems to be a good deterrent. So far, so good.
We’ve all seen those videos showing how to open a zipper with a ballpoint pen (here’s one, below). How often is that method used by luggage thieves? I don’t know… but I’ve seen enough exploded bags on the carousel to be afraid of zippers anyway, at least without an added bag strap or luggage belt. Addressing both those zipper threats, Delsey makes luggage with a supposedly secure zipper that has two rows of teeth. I haven’t tried it.
Sure you want to trust luggage with zippers?Delsey makes luggage with a double zipper.
Locking the zipper tabs together with a padlock or ziptie may be of some help, but it’s nothing for a determined thief to twist off a zipper tab. (Or to plunge a blade right through the canvas. But we can’t be that paranoid.) Put the lock or ties through the zipper loops, if they exist, instead of through the pull-tabs.
As my readers know, Bob and I prefer hard-sided luggage. We use aluminum bags. They’re heavy and expensive but, as I’ve said, we travel a lot. Honestly, they’re not for everyone. We do recommend hard-sided luggage though; if not aluminum, one of the new polycarbonate materials.
The airport baggage handlers exposed in this week’s ring did not require secret spaces or privacy. Apparently, they were opening and searching bags at large sorting platforms, presumably in full view of other workers. This concerns me, but is nothing new. When TSA security officer Pythias Brown was arrested a few years ago for stealing from passengers’ luggage, he described the airports’ culture of theft. “It was very convenient to steal,” he said, “It became so easy, I got complacent.”
The airport baggage handlers exposed in this week’s ring are not alone. Individuals and groups continue to pilfer at LAX and other airports. The world will always have thieves. Luggage security is nonexistent. Therefore:
6. Pack as if your bag will be rifled. Conventional Wisdom tells us to leave at home whatever we can’t bear to lose. I don’t know if Conventional Wisdom has ever lived a life. For the most part, this is impractical advice. Many situations call for travel with precious and/or valuable things, and sometimes we have to check those things and hope for the best.
There’s an argument for using the best luggage available, despite it being pricey and conspicuous. There’s an argument for using unremarkable low-end luggage, even if it means replacing the bags frequently. In terms of luggage security, both theories have their merits. Do luggage thieves prefer to plunder Louis Vuitton and Tumi bags? Do they loot whatever bag presents an opportunity at the right moment, regardless of brand and condition? Since I believe both situations exist, I prefer to make mine just a little harder to open, crossing my fingers that the thieves will loot a more accessible suitcase.
*Bob Arno and I have been on the road around the world approximately 250 days per year for the past twenty years without respite.
Russian oligarchs suck billions of dollars from the national economy but leave lavish scraps to tease big bucks from high-end tourists. As trips to the region are being cancelled left and right, I’m looking back at my recent visit relying for sustenance on those extravagant scraps. Here’s to the past: dining like the oligarchs on vodka and caviar in Russia. A dis/tasteful extravaganza…
Red salmon caviar, sour cream, and perfect pancakesCaviar toast
This was a favorite of mine (below): “Spirit of Russia Imperial Cocktail,” served at the Grand Hotel Europe in St. Petersburg. “A fine selection of the most famous varieties of caviar: beluga, ossetra, and red salmon caviar. Served on blinis with sour cream. Accompanied by a set of premium vodkas: Beluga, Tsarskaya Gold, and Russian Standard Platinum.
Three caviar varieties, three kinds of vodka
No, this was my favorite: “Egg in Egg.” An egg filled with truffle-scented scrambled egg, topped with ossetra caviar. Oh, yum! Also at the Grand Hotel Europe.
Who does it better, the chicken or the sturgeon? Together, pure decadence!
Outrageously delicious. Three varieties of caviar on silky, truffle-flavored scrambled egg.
Egg in egg: three times as goodFlavored vodkas at the St. Petersburg restaurant called RestaurantFlavored vodkas at the St. Petersburg restaurant called RestaurantNot figs and strawberries, but marzipan candiesA favorite vodka. (Doesn’t it look like the waiter’s face beneath the tray? But no, it’s just his hand.)A waiter keeps our vodka glasses full at Grand Hotel EuropeWe could have eaten at Killfish Burgers…
Bob and I were enjoying a delicious dinner in a small Turkish resort town. It was a balmy, late-summer evening and the restaurant was in a narrow alley; our table was outside, on the edge of light pedestrian traffic.
We had a beer and some raki along with this gorgeous mezze plate and warm bread fresh from the oven. I was hoping to save room for the oddly chewy Turkish ice cream, but that didn’t happen. We lingered, letting the meal stretch and be the night’s main event.
I noticed a large bottle fastened to the wall across the alley. It appeared to be a plastic water bottle. Why was it perched there so prominently? To hold flowers? rolled-up messages? a broom? It seemed to be partially full of something…
Eventually, I had to get up and go look. Bottle caps! It was about a quarter filled with blue plastic bottle caps. Why? I asked our waiter, who explained that when the bottle is full of caps, it could be traded in for a wheelchair. Huh.
The mysterious door opposite our restaurant, and the water bottle that got our attention. Bottle caps equal a free wheelchair?
But, really? This seemed more like a hoax to me. Whatever…
As we considered the bottle on the wall across the alley, our focus shifted to the door at which it was mounted. It was an elegant entry surrounded by rich woodwork—at odds with the glass-fronted commercial establishments up and down the lane. It was warmly lit, while the surrounding shops flickered cool florescence. Could the doors lead to an upstairs guest house or hostel? We looked at the upper windows but could ascertain nothing. The glass doors were blacked out from the inside, reflecting alley activity, emanating mystery and privacy. This lent it a bit of foreboding, but that feeling was tempered and conflicted by the welcoming light. Come hither… stand back! Could it be an apartment house? The iron gate folded to the side implied a need for security.
After a while, it occurred to us that there was regular traffic into and out of the door. We hadn’t noticed at first, but once we began to pay attention, we saw that a couple or group would enter, then leave ten or fifteen minutes later. The visitors looked like tourists, not locals.
Again, we asked our friendly waiter. They sell copies inside, he said, knockoffs. But you have to know someone to get in. It’s the shop at the end of the lane. If you ask the right questions, you’ll be taken behind the wooden doors for the good stuff. He looked left and right, leaned in and whispered. No—just kidding.
Turkish counterfeits
Counterfeit goods for sale behind the secret door.
When we finished our dinner we strolled to the shop at the end of the lane and asked what we thought might be the right questions. A boy brought us to the wooden door and gave a secret knock—the code! (Slight exaggeration here.) The door opened to a bright and immaculate shop. Its walls were lined with shelves of colorful leather bags, satchels, purses, and duffels. Its spotless marble floor reflected more of the same. Racks held belts, and a small section displayed red-soled Christian Louboutin shoes. The goods were branded Prada, Hermes, Gucci, Chanel… all the big expensive names.
Turkish bread to go with mezze.
The quality seemed excellent. The prices were high—in the hundreds of dollars, but not the thousands. This lower-cost merchandise was likely made in the very same Italian factories as the legitimate designer items, from the same bolts of designer leather, cut and sewn by the same expert craftsmen. Read how counterfeit items are made in Italy and why they are for sale. Could these items have been made in Turkey, which has a thriving leather industry of its own? I doubt it. Could they be imitations from China? Not likely. I’ve been to the Beijing copy district, where shop after shop displays branded goods with impunity. Those items, while good, are churned out factory-like, without attention to precious detail as is the custom of Italian artisans. Or… perhaps in Beijing I didn’t know the right questions to ask.
