Girl About the World

I was flipping through the channels the other day, and to my delight stumbled across The Sound of Music. It’s a movie I’ve loved since I was Gretl’s age, and I always made note of which girl in the family I was closest to in age, then identified with her during my viewing (I seemed to watch it a lot when I was around Brigitta’s age, and I thought I’d never be as old as Liesl, but clearly I did make it way past 16 going on 17).

Who could resist the music, the story, and, most of all, those gorgeous scenes around Austria? Watching the movie is even more fun now that I’ve visited Salzburg and recognize many of the landmarks.

Touristy as it may be, I went on a Sound of Music tour in Salzburg, and I’d recommend it for anyone who likes the movie — but those who don’t would probably be better served doing something else. You can actually see all the sites the tour takes you to on your own for a lot less money, but it would take some coordination of transportation, and I had less than a day to see everything (including non-SOM sites), so for me, the tour was a great option.

Highlights included a drive to the town of Mondsee, site of the church where Maria and the Captain married (the countryside is beautiful along the way); Leopoldskron Castle, which was partly used as the Von Trapp family home and is the site of the lake they fell into; Frohnburg Castle, which also made up parts of the Von Trapp home; and the Mirabell Gardens, home to much of the “Do-Re-Mi” song.

The bus ride involved a sing-along and a lot of corny jokes, along with a healthy dose of fun facts about the making of the movie and the attitudes of locals about it. If you, like me, aren’t ashamed to run through the hedge tunnel in Mirabell Gardens like Maria and the children, this a must-do activity.

(for a full-size version, click any photo)

About a year ago, I was sitting in an airport in Europe, watching everyone board the plane but me. It had been a long, emotionally draining trip, and I’d never looked forward to getting back on familiar ground quite as much as I did that time. For reasons that were never explained to me, I didn’t get on that flight, despite being a ticketed passenger who checked in on time. They never asked for volunteers to give up a seat in exchange for a voucher, but they did flat-out lie to my face several times.

In fact, they wouldn’t even tell me I wasn’t getting on the plane and forbade me to ask questions. When the waiting area cleared out and they still hadn’t come over to talk to me as promised, I approached the counter. “May I please have an update on my situation?” I asked as calmly as I could. The response: “This plane is full, and you’re not getting on it.”

A tear escaped from the corner of my eye, and then another. There was only one direct flight a day, and it would soon disappear into the skies without me. Three women I hadn’t seen waiting approached me. “Here’s a tissue,” one said.

“I’m not usually like this,” I hiccuped. “I’m very tired, and they’ve been so rude.”

“I can’t believe they spoke to you that way,” another said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so calm or polite at all.”

I found out they’d been hoping to make it on the flight as well, but were flying standby. The four of us were booked for a plane to Miami, and then one to Dallas. All in all, it doubled my travel time, taking me to a full day and then some in transit for what should have been a (relatively) short hop across the pond. For my troubles, I was given a voucher (required by law for involuntarily bumping someone) and a promise that I’d have the row to myself on the way to Miami.

As I boarded, a flight attendant stopped me to warn me that, despite the promise made just 20 minutes earlier, I would have a seatmate. When I got to my seat, I saw that it was one of the sweet ladies who had taken the time to console me. (I was slightly amused by the fact that her ticket was issued before mine, meaning they knew all along that there was already someone in that row — but having it to myself was never an issue for me, nor something I asked for, so the empty promise seemed all the stranger.)

A few hours in, I was relieved to be on the way home, roundabout as it may have been, but still feeling sorry for myself. My seatmate’s friend dropped by to say hello and asked if I’d heard her amazing story yet. I hadn’t. The friend left, and with a teaser like that, I had to ask her about it.

The three had been in Israel as part of a spiritual trek. Soon to head to the airport, the woman was in the bathroom getting ready. She’d been in there for some time, so the friends got concerned and knocked. No response.

They broke through the door and found her lying on the floor, bleeding profusely. She’d collapsed and hit her head and was unresponsive. As she talked, I saw the stitching on her face and started to piece the details together.

The friends tried to perform CPR, but there was so much blood gushing out of her mouth that they couldn’t do it. She was fading. They checked her pulse: nothing. She went limp in their arms.

“I died,” she said.

Overcome with emotion, the friends began to pray. After a few moments, they felt her heart begin to beat again. Their prayers had been answered.

I listened intently, shocked as each detail emerged. All this time, I had been focused on my problem — and missing a flight, no matter how bad the circumstances, doesn’t compare with dying and coming back to life.

After we got off the plane, I never saw the woman and her friends again, not even in the small waiting area for the Miami flight we were scheduled on. As quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared. But I haven’t forgotten their kindness or their incredible story — and now, as I prepare to use that voucher I received to fly to San Juan and take a cruise to six Caribbean islands, I am more grateful than ever that I have the opportunity to travel. And, more simply, that I have the opportunity to be angry and frustrated, amazed and incredulous, selfish and giving — that is, to live.

Fun fact time: Only three one-hundredths of 1 percent of Americans trek to Chile every year, making this South American country an ideal one to visit if you want a travel experience that isn’t exactly like your neighbor’s, or the guy who sits two cubicles down, or your kid’s teacher (I must be behind the eight ball on travel trends, because the second I announce I’m going somewhere, it seems that everyone and their mother has recently been — of course, this ends up being a good thing because I can get great recommendations on what to see and do).

Anyway, I’ve always been intrigued by the shape of Chile (it’s the longest north-south country in the world), and someone’s going to get to explore all that terrain through a Wines of Chile Experience contest happening now through Oct. 15. To apply, detail your ideal seven-day itinerary through the wine regions of Chile. Five finalists will be chosen, and the winner of a public vote will get to make his or her dream trip a reality with a $10,000 prize. (Check out all the fine print here.)

Who knows — you may just be part of that three one-hundredths of 1 percent next year!

“Break the rules and you go to prison. Break the prison rules and you go to Alcatraz.”

One of the most storied prisons in U.S. history, Alcatraz has earned its reputation for being a place for the most hardened of criminals. Throughout its history, the island has served as a military prison, Native American occupation, and a lighthouse, but it’s most famous for being a federal penitentiary from 1934 to 1963. One and a half million people visit each year, and recently, I was one of them.

I took the night tour, which includes a ferry ride around the entire island and a guided walk up to the prison (only the last tour of the day has these features). The guide gave us a rundown of the history of the island, and answered the No. 2 question he gets: Is it haunted? (No. 1? “Where are the bathrooms?” He actually never answered that one.) Once at the top of the hill, you get an audio tour narrated by prison guards and prisoners that explains what it was like living and working there, and — the highlight for many — how the escapes happened. Seeing the bars one prisoner squeezed through after starving himself and the quick thinking of one of the guards — who wrote down the five executing the most famous escape attempt, circling the ringleaders so that they’d be sure to be caught — were just a couple of the small details worth seeing in person.

The ferry ride there provides tons of photos ops, both of Alcatraz in the distance and the San Francisco skyline. The island itself is beautiful, especially as the sun was setting. I’d recommend the night tour for the extra perks it provides, although it is dark and more difficult to see some of the buildings. (You can see a comparison of the different tours here.) Of all the things I saw in the City by the Bay (and there is no shortage of things to see), Alcatraz is the highlight.