There have been three successful airfare increases this year, and “I wouldn’t be surprised to see at least a couple more airfare hike attempts before the summer season gets under way,” said Rick Seaney, co-founder of FareCompare.com.

Those cheap fares we’ve seen are going to be harder and harder to come by. Airline ticket prices are up an average of 10 percent this year over last year.

The summer vacation months, especially Memorial Day, July Fourth and Labor Day, are always incredibly popular travel times. And as travelers head into the summer vacation season, they’re facing a perfect storm leading to higher travel prices.

Read the full story … click here.
 

By Greg Dobbs

Greg Dobbs hosting television coverage of a NASA Shuttle launch.

When I’m sick, I want the world’s best health care as much as anybody. But I wasn’t real optimistic that I’d get it a couple of weeks ago when, on my way to shoot a television documentary, I suffered a significant amount of internal bleeding aboard an overnight flight. Collapsing twice after we landed from massive blood loss, evidently I almost died.

That’s why I’m ecstatic to report that my fears of inferior care were ill-founded. In fact I’m ecstatic to be around to report anything at all. But I am, and here’s one of the reasons why: an expensive and innovative (Israeli-designed) tool I had to swallow called the PillCam. 36 hours after launching on a fantastic journey through the length and depths of my digestive system, collecting almost 60,000 diagnostic images inside me to pinpoint the source of my bleeding, the PillCam successfully completed its mission.

The thing is, this 21st Century marvel wasn’t at the internationally-famous Mayo Clinic, or the vaunted Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles, or the top-rated New York Presbyterian. No, it was at the big, battle-tested, National Health Service trauma center in Belfast, Northern Ireland called Royal Victoria Hospital, which I knew from covering the warfare in Northern Ireland in the 70s and 80s for ABC News.

Pillcam ~10mm X 25mm in size

Frankly, that’s why I had felt so low about what I faced. The Royal Vic was for victims of external bombings, not internal bleeding. What’s worse, I was being thrust into the hands of the cash-strapped budget-dependent National Health Service, and I would be hospitalized in the long-war-torn city of Belfast. I’ll admit, I was scared.

It wasn’t a perfect experience. I felt lost in the chaos of the emergency room. I had bloodlines spring leaks where they were inserted in my arms. I heard fellow patients around me screaming all night. And while recovering, I was presented with a couple of plates of food I wouldn’t pay for at a restaurant. But you know what? It’s a hospital. As a veteran of a few other life-threatening traumas, I’ve suffered the same at institutions in the U.S.

More important, just as I have in American hospitals, I had the high-tech procedures I needed when I needed them. Two angiograms, two endoscopies, CT scans, x-rays, a colonoscopy, and that tiny alien capsule that traveled through me, the PillCam. Some argue that in a universal healthcare system (which critics would call a euphemism for “socialized medicine”), you’ll only get urgent care if you have urgent needs. Well, about ten years ago when my back collapsed and I was reduced to crawling around my house with screaming pain until I could have some vertebrae fused, I’d say the need was pretty urgent. But it took a week-and-a-half to get me into surgery. That was in suburban Denver.

Belfast's Royal Victoria Hospital

The bottom line is, maybe it’s socialized medicine but the doctors and nurses and procedures and protocols were first rate; they saved my life. I have pre-existing conditions, which disqualify me for most insurance at home. Here? Except for personal medical histories to help treat me, no one even asked. In fact, the bureaucracy is so minimal and the priorities so different, no one ever even asked to see an ID card to prove who I am, let alone a credit card to prove my ability to pay!

And the cost? The “emergency” parts — the ambulance, the ER, the transfusions — came with no charge. The rest? Since I only went to Belfast to shoot a television news segment and don’t pay taxes and thus am not insured, I’ll pay alright, but since the model for hospital revenue isn’t based on market-driven, sometimes price-gouging profit centers, I won’t pay through the nose. If you think it’s no different in the U.S., you’re not paying attention. Market-driven healthcare systems certainly provide the best … but a big downside is cost.

And here’s the biggest difference between the two healthcare systems: the one in the U.K. is open for everybody. Residents don’t have to assess and agonize over the cost because they don’t have insurance. If they need medical care at any level, they just go. As I did. And get fixed. As I am.

And guess what: anyone who doesn’t like their universal healthcare system and wants something more can have it, through private insurance, if they’re willing and able to pay for it. Just like us. Socialized medicine? It’s not perfect, but then, neither is ours. This system saved my life. That’s good enough for me.
 

My 50th was soon approaching and, much like New Year’s Eve, I was driving myself into a frenzy of anxious anticipation — and dread.

Wendy Shade

Turning 50 for a woman could best be described as suddenly going from feeling like the “Girl from Ipanema,” impish and carefree, to the Older Woman from “Ipa No More!;” no longer fresh and young and lovely, but at the same time not quite an ancient relic either.

It’s a turning point in a woman’s life and, yes, I appreciate the magnificence of making it to this point relatively unscathed. But at the same time there’s a feeling of tremendous loss. Some of it might be imagined and exaggerated, but much of it is real. The loss of my parents brings to light such a profound new reality for me that no matter how genuinely I try to see the happiness in things, I find everything now is tinged with a certain bittersweet quality.

Perhaps these sudden swells of emotion had something to do with my decision to agree with my husband that a perfect place to usher in my birthday would be aboard a cruise ship sailing in the Caribbean. It wouldn’t be our first cruise. The last time we sailed the seas was on our honeymoon, where it was hard to tell whether it was us or the natural ebb and flow rocking the boat. But celebrating my big, worrisome birthday at sea would be a first.

I love the ocean and can stare into its vastness for hours. I adore the way problems and thoughts get put into perspective when you realize just how small you seem compared to the immensity of the sea. What I didn’t realize was that on the very first night of our cruise, I would be struck with an immediate “ah-ha” moment, just by looking around me.

There are many different kinds of people on cruise ships: tall and short height, large and small girth, different ages, different kinds of families, singles and couples, and people living with various physical challenges. But they all find something appealing about cruising.

That night at dinner, we went to one of the three dining rooms where there are no set meal times, so people can eat whenever they want. My husband and I like this freestyle form of dining. As we waited in the lounge, I did my usual people-watching and observed a large number of motorized wheelchairs with their incumbents looking full of vigor and excitement. There were elegant elderly women pushing their walkers with whimsical scarves tied to the handles. I saw well-dressed elderly gentlemen holding sturdy canes with deeply wrinkled hands.

Upon being guided to a table of eight, my husband and I noticed that we were by far the youngest in this sea of silver. Introductions were made and we soon deciphered that two of the couples were on board to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversaries and one couple was there to celebrate finally reaching retirement. As we cut into our rolls and spread our butter, another kind of shared activity was taking place. Stories were being swapped about difficulties that were overcome, from health scares and illness to work failures, bankruptcies, and other tragic losses. But they also talked about everything from skydiving at 60 to mark one more item off a bucket list, to finding love again at age 75!

I was wonderstruck at everyone’s determination to make lemonade from lemons and to face their challenges full-on and with such grace, gratitude, and humor. And that’s when I had my birthday epiphany. I looked at my husband and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.” He said “For what?” and I more or less uttered, “For being here and steering the helm with me through all these years. And then I said, “Damn right I’m having cake tonight; bring it on! And bring on 50″!

©2012 Copyright (c) The Montreal Gazette

Best moment:

The best moment for all of us was climbing the mountain called Wayna Picchu, which towers over Machu Picchu, and then looking down on the remarkable 15th century Inca community. My personal favorite was seeing my sons racing (and wheezing) up the dirt paths at 14,000 feet on the island of Amantani, which sits in the world’s highest lake, Titicaca. Even the locals thought they were loco.

What I learned:

I learned in Peru what I have previously learned in historically magical nations like China and Egypt: People today might not have the most advanced or prosperous societies, but they have deep and abiding pride in their ancestors and their achievements.

Best meal:

In the “White City” of Arequipa, we were wandering through a poor part of town and came to an outdoor café with a handful of tables. We were hungry, so we gave it a try. They serve only one dish: ceviche. It was the best any of us had ever had.

Most fun:

There is hiking around almost every corner in the Andes of Peru. What’s fun is how hard it is — and the Incas who did it regularly were only half our size.

Don’t miss:

Machu Picchu. Seeing what an organized, civilized community the Incas built atop a mountain six centuries ago will blow your mind. Maybe your lungs, too.

Best tip:

Don’t be afraid of the food; eat it! None of us suffered; to the contrary, we savored.

Why Ecuador? Of all the places I researched when thinking about making a change in my life, this is the country that appealed to me the most.

I was already familiar with Spanish-language countries; I had lived a happy, interesting, and contented life in Mexico since I was 40 years old. However, after 25 years as a single female expat, it was time to move on. As more and more baby boomers looked to Mexico as their retirement haven, too many gringos moved in on my little pueblo on Lake Chapala. Finally, we even got a Walmart in town, and a casino.

While obtaining a “retirement” visa was easier in Mexico, it had to be renewed on an annual basis with an annual fee. In Ecuador, the “pensioner” visa is a one-time proposition. I had to prove sufficient income once and only once, and now it seems I’ll be welcome here in the town of Cuenca forever.

Single life in Cuenca is an easy transition. Since most expats have not been here for long, they seem open and friendly and welcoming of new arrivals. There are many other aspects of life here that I consider good and valid reasons to choose Ecuador as a good place to relocate. I find a lower cost-of-living than in Mexico and certainly in the U.S. It’s lower for everything from utilities, groceries, nightlife, cultural events, and local transportation. I don’t even own a car anymore, so I have no auto maintenance headaches, gasoline costs, nor license and insurance expenses.

Medical costs are lower too. I have already had an experience with a porcelain crown at a cost of $400 and a gall bladder sonogram for $35. A visit and follow-up care with an opthamologist was $25, and the cost of prescriptions is lower than even Mexico.

Of course there are pros and cons to living in any foreign country. In my case, I find airfare back to the U.S. is costly, as are imported food, and health and beauty items. I am learning to substitute more affordable local products.

Weather is a big factor of living in Ecuador. Some may not like the cooler temperatures at higher elevations. We have sunny days but cool nights in Cuenca. The coastal areas on the Pacific Ocean may appeal more to those who don’t like the sound of that.

While Ecuador may not have the infrastructure and services of the better-known retirement destination of Mexico, it offers me some of the greatest natural gems in the world including the Amazon, the Andes, the Galapagos Islands, cloud forests, volcanoes, and more than 600 species of birds. Since the country is about as large as the state of Nevada, it’s possible and affordable to travel and get to know all parts of the nation. The biodiversity is as staggering as the scenery.

I never lack for interesting options for sightseeing, either: colonial cities, lakes, ruins, hot springs, waterfalls, national parks, cobblestone streets, town squares, handicrafts, and traditional celebrations. All in all, my move to Ecuador and my new life here among approximately 500 expatriate residents was the best decision for me.

You might be interested in the video I worked on that was shot in Cuenca this year by Michael Karsh. The subject is what life is really like for expats who live here. There is no advertising, real estate promotion, nor financial advice, just plenty of practical information, plus interviews with expats like me.

Photo by AP.

A growing number of snowbirds heading south in search of warmer weather during the winter are Baby Boomers — outwardly mobile retirees and vacationers who are traveling in motor homes or campers or cars or planes to escape the cold.

An Associated Press story reports:

“This annual migration of the AARP set is worth millions to the coastal economy and typically serves a financial bridge for tourist-dependent condominiums, restaurants and stores between the holidays and the start of spring break season, when business picks up again.”

This year, snowbirds are critical for the companies and property owners who have suffered for months because of the BP oil spill. Without the snowbirds, some businesses teetering on the edge of solvency may not make it until the weather warms up again.

“You take that away when they didn’t have anything to start with and you start a whole new tier of desperation,” said Tony Kennon, mayor of this beach town on the Alabama-Florida state line.

The local tourism agency is advertising in the Midwest, inviting snowbirds to return to the coast. Winter rates always are far less than summer prices, with many condominium owners renting out their units to Northern visitors for months at a time. Some condominiums and motels are offering even lower prices than normal this year, with prices reduced by two-thirds at a few.

Click here for the full story from AP.

The call of the road seems ingrained in Americans’ DNA. We have a lot to see. We have the roads to get us there. We have the motivation of “On the Road” by Jack Kerouac or “Travels with Charlie” by John Steinbeck or, for a real twisted take on the theme, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” by Hunter S. Thompson. They all traveled in funky ways. Steinbeck drove around in a battered pickup truck with a cover.

Paul Brian of The Examiner.com writes about his own experiences. Read about it here.

My wife and I have gotten to the stage and age in our baby boomer lives when we find ourselves discussing not retirement but what new adventure might be ahead for us. We keep returning to the idea of possibly living somewhere in Europe.

We are not sure where in Europe because there are so many appealing places. What appeals is the idea of a culture that seems more grounded, more purposeful, more respectful.

Munich had never crossed our minds until a recent visit with friends who live near the city. Aside from my being German language-challenged, this Bavarian city within sight of the Alps seems to have it all -– music (including an outstanding opera), quaint neighborhoods, many beautiful parks and town squares, countless cafés, and people who seem to be pretty easy going even though they live in a major metropolis.

One day during our visit, while having lunch at a terrific outdoor French café, we looked at each other and had the same idea: who would have believed Munich might be a cool city to live? Now, I need to add quickly that it is out of the question for us for a couple of reasons. One is that while I can struggle with French, I find that for me, learning to function in German is impossible. My aging brain just is not wired for either the German language or the society’s propensity for strict obedience to order.

Nonetheless, Munich is a neat city for baby boomers, especially if you like surfing.

Yes, surfing! As we walked the city, our friend suggested that we visit the English Gardens in Munich to watch the surfers. I really didn’t know what to expect. Heck, only a few weeks earlier I was in Santa Cruz, America’s Surf City, and got all excited.

There’s no wide sandy beach in Munich. But there seems to be pretty good surfing.

At the mouth of the artificial stream to Munich’s 200-year-old English Gardens is a surging, standing wave. It is created as water is channeled into a more narrow tree-lined stream, creating enough pressure at times for local surfers to don wetsuits and take turns. It’s like a 200-year-old wave machine!

The area is posted with signs warning people not to get into the water and certainly avoid getting near the wave. No one pays any attention. It’s too much fun.

Meantime, spectators line a bridge over the stream to enjoy the surfing skills up close and snap pictures.
There seems to be a protocol among surfers. No one hogs the wave for long. After a couple of minutes, they wipe-out and someone else jumps into the constant surf.

We all stood there, sort of spellbound by the scene of serious-minded surfers riding the waves… just a few feet from a busy street in downtown Munich.

All we needed were some songs by the Beach Boys or Randy Newman blaring from out of the overhanging trees.

Rock on…

Amid all the diverse art and culture in California are its murals … large murals created over the last several decades, and located mostly in smaller towns. San Francisco-born art historian Kevin Bruce has traveled the state to write about its murals for a new book, “Large Art in Small Places: Discovering the California Mural Towns.”

Over the past two or three decades, the growth of murals in small-town California has been especially phenomenal. There are a few essential reasons for the strong appeal of public murals in small towns. Lacking big-city sensory overload, small towns have fewer elements that compete for aesthetic attention, and a large-scale mural becomes a focal point of the community.

The keen interest in murals has also been bred by the necessity of survival. Small towns are hubs of economic activity, but in some cases, the main sources of economic wealth have diminished drastically. A primary cause is often the failure of a core industry. Logging operations cease, mines peter out, or key industries relocate. In response, some towns have created mural programs as a means of attracting visitors and revitalizing the economy through tourism.
An added bonus is a reinvigoration of civic pride. Many murals offer wonderful lessons about a town’s past. Each town has a unique history, with heroes (and, for honesty’s sake, a few villains), triumphs, and tragedies. What better way to share, and to learn about, small-town life than through the visual history lessons on the walls.

Whatever the reasons a small community initiates a mural program, the community finds that the rewards are numerous and more far-reaching than merely beautification or tourism. Muralist Don Gray comments on this aspect:

Many of the mural projects that spring up all over are in small towns that find themselves faced with lethargic economies. A mural program is proposed as a way to bring visitors (and their money) to town. A core group of energetic folks gets the ball rolling. Then an interesting thing happens. Friendships flourish as activists rub shoulders to choose mural themes, meet artists, hold fundraisers, prepare walls for painting, and attend to the countless details that arise.

The enthusiasm is contagious. More and more volunteers jump in. Suddenly, all this shared energy blossoms into a renewed sense of community pride that can’t be measured simply in economic terms. They are revitalized in spirit as well.

Many observers consider the small town of Chemainus in British Columbia, Canada, to be the birthplace of what is called the mural town and Dr. Karl Schutz to be the chief architect. The Chemainus mural program began in 1982, and now this historic lumber-mill town boasts more than thirty large-scale murals. As a measure of the economic potential of a mural program, this town of three thousand residents attracts more than four hundred thousand visitors each year.

Schutz’s credo is “Never let those who say it can’t be done stand in the way of those who are doing it.” Acting as a consultant to small-town mural programs, he has been instrumental in spreading the concept of the mural town, especially to receptive places in California.

California has its own strong mural tradition that began in the 1920s and ’30s. It was spearheaded by los Tres Grandes (the Three Greats): Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros. Their influence led to flourishing mural programs in large California cities, especially those with a sizable Hispanic population. They were closely followed by the Great Depression–era WPA murals in public buildings, and the tradition flourished through the social-action murals of the 1960s and ’70s to a wide variety of mural projects being carried out today.

This is especially true in the small mural towns of California, where there has been an explosion of mural projects in the last ten years. Mural towns grow in many ways. Some small-town mural projects are the efforts of eager and prolific local mural artists. Although they become the core contributors, a project may expand by inviting out-of-town muralists to participate. Some mural towns begin as the work of a dedicated and inspired mural society, which raises money and commissions murals.

However the mural program begins, it invariably incites community involvement and pride. One event designed to include the community in a hands-on manner is called mural-in-a-day. A master muralist is selected and given a theme, then researches the subject matter, designs a mural, creates a sketch on a prepared wall, and mixes the paint. Early on the appointed day, volunteers execute the mural in a paint-by-numbers fashion. At the end of the day, sometimes after sundown, the scaffolds are dismantled, the mural is signed by the participating painters, and the dedication is made.

Photos are taken, T-shirts and certificates are handed out, and everyone celebrates a job well done. This collaborative process not only reduces the cost of the mural through the use of volunteer efforts, but also fosters enthusiasm for the mural project within the community. Trompe l’oeil muralist John Pugh has firm ideas on the effect of public murals on small-town communities:

Murals help to create a sense of community pride and enthusiasm. Murals also help to establish a community identity. They unite people . . . bring people together. Public art can provide a sense of common history, common culture, and heritage. People underestimate the power of public art. It is an art that people can participate in and interact with.

The growth of small-town mural projects is not limited to California. An increasing number of towns in the United States and Canada have embraced the mural town concept, and flourishing mural towns are found around the world, from Prestongrange, Scotland, to Sterling, Tasmania.

As this book defines a mural town, it is a place where the town intends the murals be all, or part, of a plan to attract tourism. Therefore, the murals are an economic drawing card as well as an aesthetic novelty. Several “mural towns” have only one or two murals. These are budding mural towns in the first stages of their growth. They have mural societies in place and are planning to build mural collections as an integral part of their tourism appeal. They may not merit a special trip but are certainly worth a look if you happen to be nearby.

In selecting murals for the book, I have chosen murals by both amateur and professional artists and works offering a wide range of artistic appeal, from skillful narratives to expressions of pure whimsy. Masterworks of the genre include the trompe l’oeil narrative illusions of John Pugh, the larger-than-life epics of Wei Luan, the expressive portraits of Don Gray, and the dramatic historic tableaus of Art Mortimer. Countless murals by other artists add local flavor, unique perspectives, and individual styles.

The captions are meant to give not only information about the mural, artist, and location but also a sense of the significance of each mural—what it contributes to the town and what makes it special. The standard medium for outdoor murals is acrylic paint, as it is the most durable and weatherproof medium. It is also less expensive and quicker to dry than oil-based paints. By their very nature, murals, placed on the sides of buildings, are generally large, some over one hundred feet in length. Whatever the medium, size, and inspiration, one thing is certain: these muralists have truly taken the museum to the streets.

Your Guide to Artful Adventure

The mural towns of California offer a treasure trove of history and art. If you find art and history both enlightening and entertaining, this combination travel guide, art reference, and history book is the perfect resource—whether you make a weekend tour to several mural towns or visit just one mural town en route from one place to another.

Descriptions of each town and its attractions will help you plan your trip, but be sure to contact the local chamber of commerce (using the addresses, phone numbers, and websites provided) for current maps, calendars of events, restaurant and accommodation listings, and other information. The chambers can also provide you with additional background on the artists. Individual muralists’ websites are another good source of information.

This book encourages travel at a slower pace. Mural towns are places where you can take your time and recharge your batteries. You will meet new people and enjoy leisurely small-town life out of the fast lane, and you will find much to learn.

Kevin Bruce’s new book -Large Art in Small Places: Discovering the California Mural Towns
- is available at Amazon.com

Learn about the life of watermen and the seafood industry of yesteryear in the Bay Experience Center that is housed within the area’s last remaining oyster packing plant, McNasby’s. Board a boat and take a 1.5 mile trip out to the Thomas Point Shoal Lighthouse. Tour the last remaining screw-pile lighthouse in its original location on the Chesapeake Bay. 723 Second Street, Eastport, Annapolis, MD 21403; 410-295-0104. www.annapolismaritimemuseum.org.

Click here to read more.