I try to make it back to New York at least once a year, usually for events, this time my epic High School reunion. I often travel solo but this time my companion was my nine-year-old. There was so much I wanted to share with him and narrowing down our plans was painful…and true to how I roll, the best things happened serendipitously.

We walked by the West 4th Street Courts just a block from my mom’s apartment, a famous spot where Lew Alcindor played before becoming the great Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, an iconic public court where legions of other basketball greats have shot hoops over the years. Tucked in the the back are handball courts — I had forgotten about the New York obsession with the game. A tiny pinky ball, perhaps a glove and a wall, that’s all that’s needed. The sport, now called “American Handball”, is a big draw for beach goers, but as I traveled the city I was surprised to see so many courts in every borough. My son was fascinated and wanted to play. A player at W. 4 Street let him on the court to give it a try and he was smitten. The guy even gave him a ball — I LOVE NY.

He promptly lost it and I promised to buy him a ball and play with him, as I have fond memories of playing at Jones Beach, Florida and around town as a kid. In fact, we used to just play against the wall next to my mom’s apartment, which is now a a deluxe condo.

We didn’t seem to pass any sporting goods stores and the Woolworths and Lamstons of my youth have been taken over by Duane Reade drugstores and Chase Bank buildings. So the next day, as we came up from the subway, I decided, on a whim, to see if the local newsstand next to the courts might, per chance, sell them. I’m not sure what inspired me to think that was possible, but for two-dollars, the kid got a handball and thus the highlight of his trip began. We checked out a few courts and he carried his ball with him each day.

A visit to Coney Island with the cousins and a glorious walk on the boardwalk found this handball hotspot in Brighton Beach, perfect with the pink flowers framing the gritty urban court. I reveled in the moment remembering all those years ago, a time when NYC was hurting, crime was out of control and yet people congregated on stoops, listened to music together on boom boxes and the hardcore handball fanatics were part of the pulse of the city.

We stopped at Tatiana’s, a Russian cafe in Brighton Beach. The Nathans of my youth was still recovering from Hurricane Sandy, but after losing everything in the storm, Tatiana’s was up and running again. It felt like we were on the Black Sea or somewhere in Europe, not much English spoken and many families out for a Sunday stroll. We parked ourselves in the cafe and ordered strudel and tea and studied the crowd. We were clearly outsiders, despite my part Russian heritage, but once the piping hot tea and scrumptious cherry strudel arrived I was in heaven. The less than stellar Soviet style service was part of the experience. A walk down the High Street of Surf Avenue unveiled more treasures, a terrific little shop where I bought Armenian sour cherry jam, Hungarian salami and the Russian bread I love. On the street, a vendor sold what looked like Russian pirozhki, but when I tried to confirm the name I was met with much sourness. We bought cabbage, pork, spinach and cherry; it’s great how the sweet and savory co-mingle. They were a tad greasy, but for $1.50 each was a meal.

We climbed onto the elevated subway track laden with our purchases as the stunning spring light made the grimiest steel sparkle. The ride back was quick and edifying. I was captivated by the multi-ethnic faces and so many languages filling the car. It made me want to move back to New York.

I, for one, can never get enough of winter fun. Living in San Francisco, a trip to the mountains is easy but requires some planning and often ice skating indoors has to satisfy my cravings.

In Ottawa, Ontario, workers and students can ice-skate commute (skammute?) on the Rideau Canal Skateway. The 4.8-mile-long, 26-foot-wide frozen canal is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  Visitors can rent skates, and warm up spots, cafes and other amenities dot the route. It is of course a popular tourist attraction and the centerpiece of Winterlude, a three-week-long winter festival including ice sculptures, skate clinics and Snowflake Kingdom, a snowy playground wonderland.

The world’s largest naturally frozen ice rink has been open for more than 40 years. The average length of the skating season is 50 days. The Rideau Canal skate season typically runs from December to mid March. Some years it is extended to as much as 95 days and you can check ice conditions daily. Moms pushing strollers mingle with commuters and school kids, making rush hour a busy affair on the ice. It gets cold in Ottawa and many insist a packet of tissues is mandatory to fend off the runny noses. Some prefer hockey skates, others speed skates or figure skates. Canadians are of course big ice enthusiasts!

Ottawa, Canada’s capital, is home to some great museums, imposing structures and fine restaurants welcoming an international diplomatic core. If you’re like me and love the idea of a long outdoor skate, Ottawa might be calling.

More recently I hiked with friends in the Jungfrau region, basing ourselves in Mürren on the flank of the Lauterbrunnen Valley, what has to be one of the most scenic settings on earth. At other times I’ve explored Geneva, Lausanne, Luzern, St. Moritz, Gindelwald, Appenzell, Chur, and other places, but I’ve never been there in winter.

Well, I was once in Chamonix on the French side, and stayed in the village of Argentiere near the railway tunnel into Switzerland. I skied with friends there for several days, but never crossed the border, so that doesn’t count.

Twice I’ve been to the Jungfraujoch, the highest railway station in Europe, in summer, looking down the mind-boggling Aletsch Glacier and up at the Jungfrau and Mönch. The excursion train to the Jungfraujoch — the Jungfraubahn — begins in Kleine Scheidegg. Even in summer it’s clear that the slopes here would offer superb skiing.

Naturally, right now the  Swiss Alps are covered in snow. A quick look at ski reports shows a 2-foot base and 6 feet on the upper slopes of the Matterhorn, and similar stories at Verbier and Mürren-Schilthorn.

Snow has been falling in California and throughout the American West. It’d be cheaper and easier to go to Lake Tahoe, to Mammoth Mountain, or to Sun Valley, Idaho or Park City, Utah for that matter, but where do I really want to go?

I think my daydreams are telling me where.

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!

But I live in San Francisco and can be on the North Shore of Lake Tahoe in less than four hours. Lake Tahoe, the place with more ski resorts and ski acreage than any region in the USA, plus the glorious spectacle of the lake from many peaks. Why run off to Utah, or Jackson Hole, Wyoming, or Big Sky, Montana, or Vail or Aspen or Whistler, BC when I live so close to such a winter wonderland?

One reason this winter was the pitiful snowfall in the Sierra. Another was a group of friends from college days who wanted to meet there for a reunion. So, with tickets booked far in advance, I had powder dreams reminiscent of Warren Miller films and couldn’t wait to get going.

As all skiers know, little snow has fallen throughout the West this season. It’s picked up in recent weeks (in fact, Jackson Hole reports snow every day over the last 20 days of February, with 3 feet in the last week; and 5 feet of snow fell at Lake Tahoe this week, so winter’s best weekend is about to start), but when we headed out mid February, Utah had almost as little snow as California. It seemed that our reunion would be more hanging about the hot tub than schussing down ski runs. But did that matter? Wasn’t the point to get together with a group of great friends who hadn’t seen each other in years?

Yes and no. We also wanted to ski. We had a palatial house (honestly, palatial doesn’t do it justice, it was too vast for that) in the hills above town where we had to yodel to locate each other in the far bedrooms. But once found, we all gathered in the kitchen and living room for fine meals and conversation. We drank too much wine, caught up on the years, and plotted our days on the slopes.

And those days weren’t bad. Park City made it easy. For those of us who needed rental equipment, the Ski Butlers delivered it to our door. Park City Resort was a short drive away. Deer Valley a little farther, and The Canyons pretty close. While thin in places, snow on the groomed runs was dry, workable. Skiing was surprisingly good. And the biggest surprise of all, after skiing we stopped for a beverage and snack at Baja Cantina at Park City Resort, where a generous margarita cost $2.75! A bucket of ice jammed with four Coronas cost $10! Was this a throwback to our college days put on just for us?

Drinks at Deer Valley the next day weren’t as affordable, but hey, that’s what we expected. The skiing was just as good, and we were happy.

Overnight before our last ski day it snowed an inch, and by the time we headed for The Canyons, about three inches had accumulated. Most of the day we skied in snowfall so visibility was tough, but a foot of fresh snow greeted us on many runs and I began to get a sense of why Utah has the reputation it does.

But I’ll have to go back another time, in a more normal season, when the base is deep and the sun is shining. The good thing for people like me who live in or around San Francisco: flying to Salt Lake City takes less than two hours, the drive to Park City is less than an hour, and there are plenty of options for lodging. It’s pretty accessible, and despite my bias for Lake Tahoe, I’ll try Utah again.

Next time I’ll book closer to traveling so I can get better snow. Trouble is, my buddies won’t be there, unless I can convince them to drop everything and join me. Which, if the conditions are right, they might be happy to do.

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.

On a gloriously, sunny crisp clear day in SF, I started wading through our snow gear in preparation for a school snow trip to the Sierras. It must be mentioned that keeping snow gear up to date for growing kids is tricky, but I think I’ve got it all sorted and labeled. All this talk of snow and winter got me thinking about my own winter bucket list, winter adventures high on my “to do” agenda.

When most of the country is dreaming of beaches and sun, I’m dreaming of the white stuff. I love snow and all the fun one can have outdoors when the temperature drops and precipitation turns to flakes. Three unusual activities came to mind. One, visiting Sweden’s Ice Hotel, but I already posted about that one.

The second, skating Holland’s many canals has been a lifelong dream. Inspired by Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates, skating the canals has become a rarity due to pollution and climate change. 2009 was a big year for canal skating and many Dutch citizens rediscovered their soul when they strapped on their skates two winters ago.

The Dutch are famous for their speed skating prowess, but many races take place in other Nordic countries. Tour Skating, a sport and recreational form of long distance ice-skating on natural ice, has grown in popularity.  The idea of packing a lunch and skating 10 miles, or maybe skating to a cozy restaurant with my family or a group of friends, just sounds tantalizing.

When the canals froze in 2009, cafes popped up and benches were added, so that old and young, fit and game, all who wanted could take to the ice.  Emergency rooms did see a tremendous uptick in fractures and bruises, but most would agree the amazing community spirit and fun is worth the risk! Here’s a well produced video that will get you in the mood for the 2011 season.

The third winter fantasy is all about maple syrup. I grew up in New England and I’m not sure why I never went maple sugaring but I definitely am planning to do it soon. I just bought some the other day and boy it is liquid gold!

March brings the maple-sugaring season to most of New England. Tasting the sugar straight from the trees sounds divine, but is best done with expert guidance. There are a number of “houses” that offer tours in Massachusetts, Vermont and New Hampshire as well as other parts of New England. The maple-tapping season depends upon freezing temperatures and warmer days causing maple sap to flow. When planning a visit to the Northeast to tour sugar shacks processing maple syrup, plan on the first full weekend in March.

There are many popular canoeing rivers in Northern California. The Sacramento River, from Red Bluff, 30 miles downriver in the shadows of Mount Shasta, to Woodson Bridge, is not one of them.

It was July 4th weekend so we were expecting crowds, and save for a few kayakers and boat enthusiasts, we pretty much had the river to ourselves.  We had planned a moderate backpacking trip but when one in our party had abrupt knee surgery in April, we opted to paddle to our campsite instead of forcing the kids to hike with packs a la the Bataan Death March.  The preparations were similar to a backpacking trip, but we could bring comfy pads and a cooler. I was concerned about tipping the canoe, but my friend hails from Minnesota and has done this sort of thing before.

We rented canoes at the Driftwood RV and Fishing Resort in Los Molinos, CA. The crowd at the park was definitely more of a beer drinking, horseshoe throwing, BBQ crowd, some more hardscrabble than others. The equipment we rented was in great condition and they provided life jackets (of course) and unexpected cushions and small portable seat backs, which made the trip that much more comfortable.

It must be said that the Sacramento River flows, so the canoeing is anything but arduous. We actually did a lot of floating, which was fine with me, since I was in a canoe alone with my two boys, ages 10 and 6. It was glorious, and gave us time to enjoy the scenery. We saw tons of birds: osprey, pelicans, an eagle, egrets and even though the water was chilly we often pulled ashore to frolic and sort of swim. The temperature was in the 100’s so the snow melt temperature of the water was much appreciated.

The first night we canoed back to the Driftwood, feeling a bit insecure about the whole thing and wanting to get our proverbial feet wet first. This spot is clean, well maintained and has that feel of most camp sites, like perhaps they had their heyday in the ’70s. The manager was sweet and brought us pastries in the morning and charged the kids 40 cents for cans of generic “pop.”

The second night, we decided to pull up on shore and set up camp. We were told (and did a bit of research) that the banks are pretty much public land, so we could pitch a tent anywhere we pleased. The challenge was picking a spot and not feeling like there might be a better one around the bend.

It was a perfect spot and the kids enjoyed the clay-like mud. Having been engrossed in the FIFA World Cup, they were smitten with South African names and promptly named the mud “Mbele”… literally hours of mud play ensued, what more could you ask for an outdoor adventure? No ipod, video games or TV, even if the photo looks a bit like Lord of the Flies. We cooked on backpacking stoves, enjoyed the sunset and slept surprisingly well.

You can explore the small offshoots of the river, finding a variety of small beaches and spots to investigate. We finished up our journey and the Driftwood folks met us to take our gear back to the RV Park. They hired a local to drive one of our cars to meet us — all in all a pretty seamless adventure.

I was visiting my good friend and her family recently and they decided to take me on a bike ride on the stellar Norwottuck Bike Trail, a 9.5-mile path linking Northampton, Hadley, and Amherst.  Norwottuck, the Native American name for Northampton means the midst of the river.

We set out on a humid day, ready for a mellow ride, their house was just a block from the entrance to the trail which made departure easy. Living in San Francisco, I’m unused to flat trails and enjoyed the fast and smooth ride and the natural breeze given the weather. Crossing an old train bridge was novel, and with a view of the river it made a perfect rest point and photo op. We passed families, dog walkers, folks of all shapes and sizes enjoying being out  and active.

Our journey took us to Hadley where we climbed the dike to the Connecticut River, wildflowers hugging the shore and kayakers paddling in the distance. I was surprised by the huge display of American flags covering the Colonial Houses. It was Memorial Day weekend, but I had assumed that the lefty politics of the area would preclude ostentatious displays of Americana patriotism. Apparently, though, Amherst has a large military population.

It was asparagus season, and I bought a bunch of asparagus grass to bring back to my mom in NYC. I loved the sign on the stand and the honor system of payment.

On the way back, we stopped at a trendy Woodstar Cafe in Northampton. My friends bumped into loads of their friends and colleagues, as I relished the superb coffee. We returned home and soon thereafter I hopped on Amtrak with my bundle of asparagus headed for the Big Apple. Over the years I have written stories about Rails to Trails in Washington DC, Monterey, CA and Boston, it was satisfying to finally enjoy the benefits of this great program.

Set to take place from June 11th to July 11th, this World Cup marks the first time that the tournament will be hosted by an African nation.

Despite concerns about infrastructure, construction, crime and controversies over forced eviction of the poor, South Africans and soccer fans alike are getting excited. Alicia Keys, The Black Eyed Peas, John Legend, Shakira, and others are set to perform at the opening ceremonies and global participation in the event is unrivaled, even by the recent Beijing Summer Olympics. Soccer is truly a sport that is played in every corner of the planet.

As an urban soccer mom and surrounded by a crew of international friends, soccer players and fans, I’m definitely looking forward to the tournament. If you are headed to the event from afar, you will probably want to add on to your trip. Wine tasting in the Capelands sounds like a great balance to the hooligan soccer frenzy that Wold Cup play can inspire.

Looking to book a safari? An article in Cookie Magazine, by Sarah Verdone, offers some great suggestions for a family safari. South Africa also has some of the top surfing destinations in the world, just watch out for those Great Whites!

Whether you plan to watch some games in person or are getting ready to watch from your couch or bar stool, get in the mood by checking out all that the destination of South Africa has to offer visitors.