Marseille is building on it’s southern ties to North Africa and is remaking  the harbor area into a car-free and pedestrian-friendly promenade. In classic French fashion, the city has designated ten new cultural sites, many located in renovated structures. A museum was once France’s Ellis Island, where immigrants were processed, and an abandoned tobacco factory is being refashioned as a Contemporary Arts Museum focusing on the Immigration theme. New buildings are popping up too, with public finance we Americans can only dream about. The desire to change the crime-ridden image to cultural hotspot is a tricky balancing act, paying homage to the immigrant culture without whitewashing the colonial past.

Nearly 30 percent of Marseille’s population is Muslim and without a significant middle class to support the arts, Marseille has been neglected culturally over the years. This is a chance, post Arab Spring, for the city to shine.

Marseille is in Provence, and  many venues in other Provencal towns, including the wealthier Arles and Aix-en-Provence, are part of the year-long celebration hoping to create harmony, civic pride and serve as a magnet for tourists and tourist euros!

I have so many summer memories of family boardwalk strolls, noshing on knishes in Brighton Beach, soft serve, sand between the toes and sweat mixed with sunscreen dripping in my eyes.

The boardwalks of my childhood were the bar, the town square, and the place where young and old, beach bunnies and schmata wearing grannies, could congregate. There were rides, games, sweet and savory treats and no sense of time. AND yes, I always got splinters, because I never wore my flip-flops (as my parents suggested) and sadly, more often than not, I returned home with a sunburn that I regret today.

It is that intangible sense of freedom, community and unvarnished leisure time that the boardwalk connotes that will be resurrected, despite rising seas and superstorms!

Clearly, visiting struggling countries helps to boost their economy. For a place like Greece, it might well be how they can dig out of such a deep hole, promoting all that is so appealing when life for locals is so hard. So, when I read a recent New York Times article entitled “The Country Beckons Spaniards as Jobs in Cities Grow Scarce,” it was interesting to think about how long periods of strife can dramatically change the travel landscape.

I remember rolling in to sleepy Spanish villages, practically drunk on olives and olive oil and even sleeping under an olive tree one hot day. The small towns, just awakening from years under Franco, were still very old world, so authentic and charming. Spain of course has modernized quickly over the last 20 or so years, but much of the growth was isolated in the big cities and towns.

With jobs so scarce and the cost of living so high in cities like Madrid and Barcelona, many folks are moving back to the countryside and taking with them all their urban skills, savvy, appetite and spirit. The populations of many cities are shrinking, and conversely, the small towns are growing, blossoming with artists, entrepreneurs, new farmers and even circus performers!

So if you’re headed to Spain, after you have been to the Prado Museum, walked Las Ramblas and soaked in some Spanish urban culture, head to the smaller towns to savor the old world flavor or relish the new life! Triporati has more than 50 destinations in Spain to discover!

I’m no music expert, most of my response to music is visceral and associative, but I do know that if the Beastie Boys had been a fad, they wouldn’t have lasted as long as they have.

As I blasted their latest album with car windows open,  to pay homage to the fallen Beastie (Adam MCA Yauch) who passed away from cancer earlier this month, my kids cringed as Mom reminisced semi-publicly. I tend to hate when I pass another car with thumping music blaring, always muttering, “Yeah, I like that music so much” to myself. OK, so forgive me…

I was thinking about the concert they played at Madison Square Garden with Run DMC, the kids clothing store on 10th street, in my hood, owned by Beastie Boy Adam Horowitz’s mom Doris, cheekily named “Gee The Kids Need Clothes,” and dancing till rivers of sweat poured down my back to Brass Monkey, No Sleep Till Brooklyn and others at loft parties, clubs and friend’s homes.

Greenwich Village (and NYC in general) is no stranger to walking tours. I remember parting the crowds to get a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery, a shop featured on Sex in the City, or even wedging through the clumps of tourists snapping photos of my everyday haunts, places where the famous and infamous had worked, lived, partied or died. Once, while soaking in the Communal Russian Baths, in the East Village, a woman pulled out a camera because John Belushi had come there frequently to cleanse himself after his binges.

There is now a suggested self-guided Beastie Boys walking tour, including many of the places important to their life and career. It includes a loft where much of the magic took place in the early years of Beastie Boys rise from punk kids to Rap icons. The corner of Irvington and Ludlow on the Lower East Side is on the itinerary, where the cover for their second album, Paul’s Boutique, was shot. Today there is a restaurant called Paul’s Boutique in honor of the album.

A memorial is currently drawing mourners at 69 Avenue A where Yauch and the Boys recorded the album Polly Wog Stew.

RIP Adam Yauch 1964-2012

A recent cameo in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris reminded me of my rushed trip to Giverny many years ago. I traipsed through the garden taking in the amazing palette of colors, the pinks and yellows, fuchsias, purples and oranges. How could one NOT love the feast for the senses?

The next day I visited the Orangerie Museum in Paris where the famous water lily paintings are featured. This combo makes for a nice pairing.  There are currently a few tours in Paris which focus on the many sights featured in Allen’s latest movie. The Paris Underbelly - Midnight in Paris Tour will set you back about $100, depending on the length of the tour.

According to a recent article in the New York Times, the garden (which is open to the public seven months a year and attracted more than half a million visitors in 2010) has a new head gardener. James Priest, has just taken over the reigns of perhaps the world’s most well-known cultivated plot. Mr. Priest is an Englishman, although he has lived in France for 30 years and is married to a Frenchwoman. Some say the garden has more of an English flavor, a wildness and lack of order, but Priest sidesteps the tempest in a teapot over an Anglo running a quintessentially French garden.

The French and the British love to kid each other, naming certain things as “French” or “Anglaise” to connote a distaste. A condom, for example in France is called a “capote anglaise,” whereas in England it is often referred to as a “French letter.”  For his part, Priest feels the garden is beyond French or English and prefers to think of Monet’s Giverny as an artist’s garden.

It’s a demanding job, regardless of the head gardener’s country of origin, and Mr. Priest plans to rely heavily on the wisdom and experience of the gardeners who have been tending Giverny for decades. In his day, Monet could pick and choose what to paint and keep things in bloom at various stages. Today, with so many visitors, the task is to keep the garden picture perfect all the time.

Besides passion and the global sports stage, Brazilians have a lot to cheer about. As many Western developed countries still wallow in the mud of recession, Brazil’s economy is dynamic. Record soybean harvests show agricultural clout, a sugarcane/ethanol boom demonstrates forward thinking environmental strategies and a new female president highlight that Brazil is on the move. Strides are being made against poverty and crime, and Brazil’s role in the world order is shifting.

Brazil is a member of BRIC. In economic terms BRIC is an acronym, a term coined in 2001 that refers to the countries of Brazil, Russia, India and China, which are all seemingly at a similar stage of newly advanced economic development. In fact, these days the U.S. is considering changes to our visa system to woo tourists and facilitate the process for visitors from these countries. Disposable income for many is a new thing and certainly travel is on their mind.

For visitors to Brazil, there is so much to see in this, the largest country in South America. From the high tech worlds of Brasilia and Sao Paolo to Rio’s cultural Mecca and the Amazon rainforest, Brazil is a fascinating travel stew. The more relaxed city of Salvador in the northeast was my favorite area, but I wouldn’t miss a visit to Iguaçu Falls on the Argentina border. The beaches and the beach culture never fail to impress and amuse. It is the people who bring the country to life. I would travel back to Brazil in a heartbeat.

Brazil tourism is even cashing in on the new film RIO, the animated story about tropical birds. Interest in family trips to Rio de Janeiro are up according to Travel Weekly and this keeps Brazil in the cultural conversation and segues nicely to the upcoming big global sporting events.

It is also cherry blossom season, here in San Francisco, in our nation’s capital and of course in Japan, a rite of spring and a life-affirming, annual natural event. As I wheeze through the days full of blooms and pollen I stop to think about the brutality and generosity of what we call Mother Nature.

Traditional custom this time of year in Japan is to picnic under the cherry blossoms with friends and family. Sake, poetry and karaoke often accompany a spread of bountiful treats. This year though, as the country mourns, many are avoiding conspicuous consumption and opting to forgo the annual ritual, or to tone it down considerably. The elderly mayor of Tokyo has erected signs to ask residents to avoid the spring fun as a show of solidarity for those suffering in the northeast of the country. Mother Nature, or the force in nature, whatever you want to call it, can be so cruel and so glorious. The cherry blossoms are beautiful, fleeting, and fragile…like life itself. There is poignancy this year, but certainly the pink blossoms offer a small glimmer of hope, that life goes on.

Since 1997 she’s worked to conserve Crete’s cultural and natural heritage through her own version of a slow food movement, engaging more than 40 small business and individuals in “Crete’s Culinary Sanctuaries” to offer visitors a taste of traditional Cretan cuisine. Ingredients come from local organic farms, and chefs put a modern twist on the old cuisine so there’s always a tasty surprise.

Her programs have received sustainable development awards from the likes of National Geographic, and she’s booking tours for the summer. Visit artisan food producers, organic farmers, rural communities that have been inhabited for 4,000 years, and take botanical hikes in the land of the Minoans. Explore ancient sites, too.

And of course, eat well.

I had been itching to take the kids to the Tech Museum and my husband and I were intrigued by the Art Museum, so we decided to book a hotel room overnight and make a festive trip out of it between Christmas and New Year’s.

It had been raining for nearly two weeks, so we also had visions of a great hike if the skies cleared up. I called a close Cuban-American friend who knows San Jose well and happens to be a foodie. He was on it, and within half an hour recommended three eateries in the area, so I felt ready to go.

Just an hour or so south of San Francisco, San Jose these days is known as the heart of Silicon Valley.

We booked a room at the Hotel Valencia Santana Row, a chic contemporary hotel set amidst a European style pedestrian shopping street. The hotel was a block away from The Winchester Mystery House, a somewhat lost in time, local tourist attraction that seemed a bit cheesy and overpriced for our taste. I was worried that Santana Row might be a Disney-esque version of a European Pedestrian district but it was actually quite stylish, and all decked out for the holidays. Since our trip was short and specific, I had to resist my shopping urges, but many appealing stores beckoned me.

The hotel was slick and comfortable,  and my kids remarked on the leather pillows as we entered our room overlooking the patio. It’s fun to splurge for a night, close to home, on occasion. Despite the torrential downpour we made it to the pool and hot tub twice. Actually, my favorite time to soak and swim is when it’s cold, dark and rainy. The pool area had a Mediterranean feel and the outdoor shower was a nice touch. The little fitness room was much appreciated and we took advantage of it, making the most of our getaway.

In the evening, the patio looked welcoming with fire pits and a fountain in the center, but it was just too wet and cold for a nightcap. Instead, we tucked in and watched the Kennedy Center Honors on TV.

The San Jose Tech Museum is a must-see and we spent hours exploring the two floors of exhibits. The hands on, kid friendly stations were a big hit with my budding techies. My youngest son, aged 7, joined a group with a mock digestion project, simulating the route our food takes through our bodies. My older son designed a terrifying roller coaster circuit and both kids were mesmerized by a robot-artist working non-stop. We all wound up with portraits of ourselves after waiting in line with other bedraggled parents for what seemed like an hour.

The rain had pummeled the holiday display in the park and the holiday skating rink struck me as a rip-off at $15 a pop. Once we realized a soggy hike was not even possible, we headed for the San Jose Museum of Art and were really pleased with our choice. The museum was manageable, light and the staff super helpful. Two shows on view during our trip interested all four of us with lots of interactive features. The kids loved the gallery in the basement where they could build with legos, cards and blocks.

Lunch was at a local Coffee Shop called Flames, which had the feel of a real California diner from the ’50s or ’60s. My foodie friend had recommended Habana Cuba as one of his favorites and we had to agree. The food was really authentic and the kids’ menu made me so happy I wrote a review for a kids’ nutrition site called Well Kiddos. The pork melted in our mouths and the mojito was perfectly not too sweet. We also noshed at Race Street Fish Market, which seemed like a local institution. I’m not much for entirely fried meals but it was worth the sacrifice since all my boys are fish and chips monsters and I could get a broiled piece of fish. It was fun watching the crowd, only one hour from SF, but a world away.

Full of food, art and technology, we headed back home, thoroughly pleased with our mini-sojourn. It was just enough of a getaway to break up the long winter vacation and the waterlogged weather.