If you’re looking for a getaway, outdoor fun, sun, and maybe some wine tasting, the small town of Los Gatos is a great choice. Set in the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains, this affluent hamlet, with a Victorian downtown, is a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of urban living. As you drive into town, you pass Netflix headquarters, and you realize, this is perhaps where the 1% live, a notion that was confirmed at the stylish Purple Onion Café, where at 10 a.m., the place was hopping with expensively clad moms chatting and nibbling, post workout. The Illy coffee and yummy breakfast items made with cage-free eggs, local produce, and freshly baked whole-grain breads were tantalizing.

For lunch, a traditional Irish pub with Americanized pub grub, was a more down home option. C.B. Hannegan’s was bustling with business folks and families; the outdoor garden was so pleasant and portions big enough to share. The beer choices were impressive and International, with 15 on draught.

Another must dine spot, great if you’re on your way to Santa Cruz, is The Cats Restaurant and Tavern, just off highway 17. Originally a pit stop on the old stage line, the Cats Roadhouse was once a welcome spot for horse-drawn lumber wagons on their way to San Jose, as well as a rowdy social club for locals.  In the Roaring 20s, the Cats was one of the area’s most notorious speakeasies and bordellos! Renovated and reopened in 2008, the menu still features BBQ favorites and is certainly a crowd pleaser after a day at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk or hiking the mountains!

Camping options abound. Two of my favorites are Big Basin Redwoods State Park and Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. It can get cold under the redwoods, so pack accordingly!

Finally, if you want to splurge, a stay at the Mediterranean boutique hotel and spa, Hotel Los Gatos, is quite a treat. The pool is small but with mosaic tiles and an ample hot tub, a perfect spot early morning, midday or at night for a dip and soak. The hotel has a Moorish feel mixed with California Mission, and the rooms were luxurious but in a cozy way.

Mediterranean food is one of my favorite cuisines, and I have to say since I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area nearly 20 years ago I have been on a constant hunt for Greek Cuisine from high-end to gyros. Dio Deka, fine Hellenic cuisine, really lived up to its Michelin Star hype. The food, ambiance, presentation and service were really top notch, from the marinated kalamata olives in chili and rosemary to the spanikopita, pork ribs and these delectable crispy potatoes with smoked roe.

The wine list was overwhelming, but we chose a crisp New Zealand white and sat out, talking and savoring the special tastes, as if we were on the island of Santorini or an Athens plaza. I took a close friend to celebrate a recent triumph, but I could imagine taking my two boys there, all rumpled in their “fancy” clothes, perhaps for a special occasion. Luckily there are plenty of tapas-like options I think many older kids would appreciate, if your budget allows.

All in all, if you’re looking for a staycation in the Bay Area, a romantic getaway, a taste of “Peninsula living” or an overnight splurge, the combination of great food and wine, ample hiking and biking spots and wineries galore, make a trip to Los Gatos, the Cat’s Meow!

On a recent trip back to NYC, my mom dug out a pair of chiffon yellow Bermuda golf shorts with my grandma’s initials embroidered on them and gave them to me. Thanks Mom, maybe I can wear them in some hipster renaissance outfit somewhere in SF.

My mom pulls crazy things out of boxes and storage places in her small Greenwich Village apartment; like hordes of clowns coming out of a circus car, the treasures just keep coming. These were pristine and had probably been cloistered away for more than 30 years. Suffice to say I am NOT a golfer, save the mini golf experiences with my kids. I get the appeal though, and can perhaps imagine, that some day it might be of interest to me.

Golf, however, is a huge part of the travel market and I have written about golf courses and destinations for years. Two recent stories got me thinking about the symbolism of golf in today’s world. The New York Times story: Revolutionary Cuba Now Lays Sand Traps for the Bourgeoisie and the NPR story charting the golf course casualties of the recession, seem to encapsulate so many of the changes rocking our country, the global economy and the geopolitical shifts in the world.

Ironically, Cuba is now building greens, hoping to woo more tourists, while Florida and Georgia, two of the go-to golf states, are converting some courses to park lands, primarily because of a decline in traffic and revenue. Smaller, less glitzy courses are the first to suffer following the real estate boom and bust. Course construction was fast and furious in the Go-Go ’90s and now there is too much supply and not enough demand. Across the U.S., 600 golf courses have closed in the past five years. The National Golf Foundation, or NGF, expects another 500 more to close in the next three years.

In Cuba, fifty years after Castro closed all of his country’s courses calling golf the “epitome of bourgeois excess,” Cuba is rushing to green light at least four luxury course projects in an effort to attract the global golfing elite to the Caribbean nation. Even Castro’s old comrade, Hugo Chavez in Venezuela, is still trying to do away with his country’s courses, to make room for housing for the poor. Cuba as a golfing mecca…the times they are a changin’.

A visit to Mount Vernon on a stormy day launched the dizzying schedule. I opted for a breath of fresh air with a view of the Potomac, a tour of the house and a walk to the farm. George Washington was quite green (which I learned is a term in French that means an older, quite virile man, not ecologically minded) and in his own way farmed and recycled with an eye on the future, employing crop rotation and mulching much of his waste. A lover of rivers, he situated his house so the view from the porch is masterful and remains unmarred.

The Lincoln, Vietnam and the newer WWII Memorial were next.  I had wanted to visit the Vietnam Memorial for years, and memories of the names of the NY tri-state area’s war dead scrolling on the TV News came flooding back. I was so young but not untouched by that war.

One of the best parts of the quick visit was the Hay Adams Hotel, where the group stayed. A famous old hotel, we were charmed to be staying right across the street from the White House.

The Museums of DC are monumental and free. We had two hours only, so I chose the Contemporary wing and buzzed through the permanent collection and Beat Generation photo exhibit and a lovely small Dutch show called “The Little Ice Age” about an 18th century period when a prolonged cold snap kept all the canals in Holland frozen and ice skating reigned supreme. I had just rented the Disney version of Hans Brinker with my two boys so I thought of them and loved the magical paintings.

Three top restaurants fed our massive group in style. We had a wine-filled seafood feast at the Occidental Grill and a whirlwind tour of Union Station as we lunched at B. Smith’s in the train station. The portions, of course, shocked the frogs and you could have fed Congress with what we left over.

A visit to the Capitol was on the schedule and although moving 164 French tourists through the tour was harder than a pre-school class trip, they all seemed enthralled.  We got to see Congress, albeit not in session, and I think we all left with more of an understanding of America’s history and government system. One jokester bought a tiny American Flag and began to wave it unmercifully, a comment on the constant presence of the stars and stripes and the patriotic, sweeping music in the promotional film that was shown on the tour. I explained the flag issues about pin wearing during the election and how much Americans cling to/love their flag. They asked if I ever wore a flag pin. I chortled, saying the only time I ever wore red white and blue on purpose was to celebrate the Bicentennial in 1976 as a little kid, and they are not my color. Nonetheless a trip to DC does stir some patriotism.

I must return, perhaps for a week, with my kids, I think the perfect age would be at least 9 or 10 years old to really enjoy all that the city has to offer, so it may be a few years before I do DC again.

The 1988 Calgary Winter Olympics was also a Canadian affair. It was the last Olympics where Cold War rivalries played out on the world sporting stage. It was the year of the Jamaican Bobsled team and Eddie the Eagle, the courageous Scottish everyman who soared in the ski jump, or at least gave it his best.

For Olympic nerds, like me, it was the year of the Battle of the Brians in figure skating where the American Brian Boitano won the gold. I remember most of all the amazing scenery, Lake Louise and the stunning aerial photography of the Canadian Rockies. A two-hour drive from Calgary, Banff is to Calgary what Whistler is to Vancouver.

The town of Banff was created by happenstance in the late 19th century when railway workers discovered hot mineral springs. Visitors came, and later it was designated a National Park. A majestic lodge, The Banff Springs Hotel, was built more than a century ago and has been dubbed the “Castle in the Rockies.”

Today the area appeals to the posh crowd.  Galleries, swanky shops and fine dining are as much a part of the experience as dog-sled rides, skating and hitting the slopes. Looking for the top things to do on a trip to the Canadian winter wonderland? Check out the CanadianRockies.net list of the top 11 attractions.

My first night I spent at the Tenaya Lodge, right outside the park. The Tenaya had the feel of a Park Lodge, animal heads on the common room walls, giant beams and an outdoorsy style, but was considerably fancier than a rustic lodge. The bed was big and comfortable but unfortunately I slept poorly due to the altitude and a late night specialty coffee (decaf) that I suspect had more alcohol in it than I could tolerate. Elk was on the menu (which my kids were excited about) and I would love to take my family back to explore all the Lodge’s offerings.

The Tenaya is very family friendly and even welcomes pets! The holiday schedule at the Tenaya sounds magical; horse drawn sleighs, gingerbread house making workshops and Santa on Ice to name a few. Although not guaranteed, there is often snow on the ground here from December through February.

Next we took a whirlwind tour of the Wawona Hotel. This Victorian-style lodge in Yosemite is a favorite of those who prefer a more authentic Yosemite stay. Walking the grounds I felt like I could be carrying a parasol and negotiating the narrow walkways with a big hoop skirt. It is a National Historic Landmark and worth a visit just to get a taste of what it was like to visit the park in the early days.  I met a couple who were celebrating their 20th anniversary and were relishing the slow place and the lack of technology. The facilities really seeks to maintain the 19th century feel but the fare is purposely 21st century, offering local, primarily organic products.  We had breakfast there and the homemade ginger granola and frittata were scrumptious. Renovation work was going on which distracted from the Victorian charm and I discovered the Wawona is closing its doors for parts of 2009/2010 season so make sure to check the website for details.

No trip to Yosemite would be complete without at least a tour of the famed Ahwahnee Lodge. Built to blend into the granite cliffs, this is a premier National Park lodge and has welcomed many a statesman and celebrity. If you can’t swing a stay, at least cozy up by the giant hearth with a good book and a hot toddy or treat yourself to lunch in the majestic dining room.  The Ahwanee chef is a charismatic wizard and a tour of the kitchen was a high point of my trip. There are a number of special holiday events at the Ahwahnee, the signature event being the Bracebridge dinner and performance. Celebrated annually since 1927, the Bracebridge Dinner transforms The Ahwahnee into a 17th century English manor for a feast of food, song and mirth. The inspiration for this yuletide ceremony was Washington Irving’s Sketch Book that described Squire Bracebridge and English Christmas traditions of that period.  Both the Tenaya and the Ahwanee are not cheap but there are deals to be had and for what you can experience they are worth the splurge.

If you’d like the Yosemite experience at an affordable price you might consider the tent cabins.  All guests who book the Temp-RATE-ture Special will receive a reduced rate in a tent cabin based on the previous night’s recorded low. If the temperature is 17 degrees, you pay $17 per night. And yes, if the Fahrenheit temperature falls below zero, they’ll pay YOU the difference to stay overnight. This sounded like an adventure to me but for my money I was most excited about The Yosemite Bug Rustic Mountain Resort. Run by a dynamic Bay Area refugee who has whipped an old Boy Scout camp into shape, this spot captured my fancy. Maybe it was the Euro-hostel feel infused with California panache, or maybe it’s my desire to travel like I did in my twenties (not really). Nestled in the forest, the Bug as it is called, offers quirky but very comfortable accommodations, a yoga studio and lovely spa and the biggest surprise… phenomenal food. I had eaten so much meat I went for a butternut squash risotto. It was topped with Asian pears and paired with a local red and a green salad it made a yummy meal! The place had a bit of hostel feel, probably because a busload of SF Art students had just arrived for an annual retreat. I found the atmosphere appealing; nice lighting, lots of board games and laughter in the main room. I noticed this guy setting up his dominoes run; certainly not something you see in every hotel lobby. Rates are affordable and although not for everyone, I will definitely head back there, maybe for a big birthday bash as there is a newly remodeled common room which is used for parties and weddings.

So if you’d like to visit Yosemite, there are accommodations for every budget or taste, but most importantly, get out and witness the incredible national treasure that is Yosemite! I recommend Ken Burns’ PBS documentary The National Parks: America’s Best Idea to really learn the history of the Park.

As coach service has become worse and worse, the lure of Business and First Class seems more appealing. Yet with the cost so high, one feels like a kid looking at candy or toys through a shop window: it’s there but so out of reach. I chuckled recently when I read about how the downturn in the economy has hit business and first class travelers hardest…seems we are all flying cattle car coach these days.

Triporati Producer Gwynn Gacosta recently returned from a trip to the Philippines and has this take on the issue of “Class” travel.

Slumming It in Business Class

I tend to hate air travel and lately, there’d been little to like about it.  The food, or lack thereof, is terrible; the service rude or indifferent.  I hate that we in coach class aren’t allowed to use the bathrooms in business class, even if those are the ones we are seated closest to.  That there is no comfortable way to sit in order to avoid the people directly in front of us, behind us, next to us.  Certainly not with the leg room provided.

For my recent trip to the Philippines, I had to mentally prepare for an over 12-hour flight each way.  And really, there’s really no other way to prepare for that except to accept that it’s going to be uncomfortable and hellish.  I always wondered what first class and business class would be like, but I never thought I’d be so lucky to experience it.

When I arrived at the airport, a Cathay Pacific customer service rep informed me that my flight had been overbooked.  “Would you mind switching to a Japan Airlines flight, which leaves at around the same time, but arrives in Manila earlier?  And for your inconvenience, might we also offer you $200 spending cash as well as a coupon voucher for a free business class upgrade and access to our business class lounge for your next Cathay Pacific flight?”

Uh…is this a trick question?

True to their word, after signing some paperwork and given my new JAL boarding passes, I was handed my $200 dollars and my coupon.  I hadn’t even left for the Philippines, and yet I couldn’t wait until I could get my upgrade for the flight back.

That day came soon enough and I check in at Ninoy Aquino International in Manila, voucher in hand.  Turns out that I could only do it for one leg of the trip, and obviously I wanted to do it for the Hong Kong to Manila leg, so they told me to check in at the transfer desk in Hong Kong.

At Hong Kong International Airport, I headed right up to the transfer desk and stood in the coach class line.  There were lots of people, most were tired and disgruntled.  Then I noticed that there was no line at the business class window.  Could I get away with marching right on over?  Five minutes later I had a pass for the airport lounge and a boarding pass for the flight.  I glanced sheepishly at my former line-mates, rolling their eyes and looking annoyed.

Airport lounges are places I’d always been curious about.  You’d see the doors open briefly to let a patron in, and then shut, leaving people like me, out.  I just knew there was a different world in there – a paradise, perhaps?  Free drinks?  Spa treatments?

Through the hallowed doors I went, and inside was a long bar, serving whatever you pleased.  At the end of the lounge was a dining area with a variety of food served cafeteria-style.  They also served hot soups, made to order.  I grabbed a tuna sandwich and a pastry with a bottle of water, and I stopped and looked around.  Where do I pay for all this?

And this is the beauty of the airport lounge: you don’t.

Belly satisfied and feeling rested, I thought of taking advantage of the private shower stalls at the other end of the lounge but I didn’t have a change of clothes with me nor any toiletries.  I sat down on one of the big, comfy club chairs and journaled.  People were either on their computers or stretched out on the chairs with their feet propped up, sound asleep.

When I arrived at the gate, I started to line up behind the crowd of people already in front of the gate.  A gate agent, spotting my ticket, waved me over to where she was – where the other business class/first class ticket holders were – about eight people in all.

I liked this treatment.  I liked it a lot.  But I couldn’t help but think that maybe there was some mistake.

I boarded the plane and searched for 12A.  There before me was an individual seat with an entertainment console right next to it.  My seat reclined at the touch of a button to a bed.  I had, at my fingertips, endless choices for movies and music and games to play and a TV screen that swiveled around at whatever angle was most comfortable.  A businessman in the seat next to me sensed I was new to the club.

“This is actually better, you know.  You’re not climbing over anybody to get to the bathroom or to get to your seat.  It’s like having your own office.”

I looked at him.  “Oh, you misunderstand, sir.  This is not a complaining face. This is the face of someone who has seen the light.”

He looked amused.  “The light?”

“Yeah,” I said.  “No way should anyone have to travel any other way again.  Ever.”

He smiled and put his jacket away.  “I wholeheartedly agree.”

For the duration of my flight, when I was not reclined and sleeping like a baby, I was treated to great service: real table linens, breakable stemware filled with fine wines, and decent, filling meals.  My legs were propped up, and at the touch of a button, I felt the vibrating massage at my back.  I was wrapped in a comforter, not a scratchy wool blanket.  I had movies to watch and music from a programmable CD library, and the use of large, comfortable headphones.  Oh, and a cute complimentary toiletry kit that included Murad skin products and a comfy pair of socks.  If I wanted to, in the middle of the night, I could ask for a sandwich, a bottle of water, chocolate truffles, whatever I wanted.  And I did.  I most certainly did.

Twelve hours came and went, and I was sad when I landed.  Yeah, I was going to see my kids again, but I wasn’t so sure I was ever going to be in business class again.  Now that I have seen what goes on behind those curtains, how could I ever go back to coach?