How to Have a Fun Winter Weekend in Boston

How to Have a Fun Winter Weekend in Boston  |  Hey Eleanor

I never used to say no to a cool travel opportunity. 

But when my husband asked if I wanted to meet up with him on a work trip to Boston, I hesitated. It meant flying by myself with a 5 month old baby, and then traveling with said baby. How much would that change the dynamic of our trip? Would it be so stressful and exhausting that I'd wish we'd just stayed home?

Ultimately, I decided to go.

I figured Boston would be a great place to travel with a baby. It's compact, walkable, plus people seem to be really family-oriented based on what I've seem of Bostonians in the movies. ALWAYS a good way to judge people and places, right? I mean, Mark Wahlburg is from Boston, and he's all about "saying hi to your mother for me." 

We ended up having a great time, and are so lucky to have a flexible baby. We even enjoyed two nice dinners out while the baby slept in an Ergo carrier. I know these days are numbered, so we're enjoying it while we can.

Here's how we spent our winter weekend in Boston.

Where We Stayed:

We dropped out bags at the Chandler Studios in Boston's South End. Boston is one million years old, and when it comes to hotels, we all know that means teeny-tiny rooms. Chandler Studios offered nicely appointed, standard-sized rooms (unlike the Chandler Inn across the street, which had shoebox-sized rooms according to my husband who'd checked out both); clean, modern and featuring a kitchenette-- perfect for storing breastmilk and washing bottles. Or keeping your beer cold. Whatever.

This wasn't a luxury hotel experience, but it was absolutely perfect for what we needed. Not too expensive, right across the street from a drug store, in a more residential neighborhood full of cool shops and restaurants, yet close enough to walk to Boston Common and downtown.

What we did:

Since we had just over 36 hours in town, we needed to narrow down our activities substantially. 

We're into eating/hiking/seeing historic things when we travel, so we opted to walk the Freedom Trail. This 2.5-mile, red-lined route leads you to 16 historically significant sites — like the Massachusetts State House, old churches, and cemeteries.

Follow the red brick road.  |  Freedom Trail - Boston

It was actually the perfect thing to do with a baby in December. We bundled up, got a little exercise and some fresh air, then dipped into a historic church, landmark or restaurant every 20-30 minutes to warm up. At 32 degrees and breezy, Bostonians kept commenting that the weather was unseasonably cold. As a Minnesotan, I didn't think it was too bad.

You can sign up for a guided Freedom Trail tour, led by actors in 18th Century garb. While I love having someone who can answer all my questions, I find the costume thing to be terribly embarrassing. Instead, we downloaded the free Freedom Trail Walking Tour App, which included maps, GPS, lots of info at every site and allowed us to set our own pace. Recommended!

Paul Revere does not live here anymore.  |  Revere House - Boston

The Trail started about 1.5 miles from our hotel and we opted to walk, stopping for breakfast (more on that next) on the way. King's Church, Quincy Market (which was totally awesome on the outside and a totally lame tourist trap on the inside), and the Paul Revere house made for great pit stops. King's Church accepts donations, and the Revere house costs $3.50 to tour. It's old AF as far as American history goes (1680!) and well-preserved as far as I could tell. 
 

Where We Ate:

Sure, Boston. You're full of history and stuff... but when we travel, everything is planned around food. Here's where we ate. 

Breakfast

I'm obsessed with breakfast, and Flour Bakery + Cafe does one of the best in town.

Best egg sandwich ever.  |  Flour - Boston

Owned and operated by Chef Joanne Chang, this order at the counter spot does incredible baked goods, coffee, salads and sandwiches. It's also SUPER busy on weekends, but the line moves fast, so relax. They make the most incredible breakfast sandwich. The eggs are beaten (with lots of cream), then baked, rendering a souffle-like egg, then topped with cheese, roasted tomato, bacon and dijonnaise. And PS I just found this video for how to make it at home! Thank you, internet!

We also visited Mike's City Diner-- a beloved South End neighborhood breakfast spot. It's got that 1950s diner vibe, with big portions and friendly service. They weren't even annoyed when we rolled in with a stroller-- they folded it up and put it in a back room for us.

Lunch

We were only in town for one lunch, and opted to eat in Boston's North End. Famous for its Italian food, there are lots of great restaurants to choose from-- notably, Regina Pizza and Neptune Oyster. We tried to go to the latter, but it's literally the smallest restaurant I've ever seen, doesn't take reservations and had two-hour wait for a table. If it had just been Josh and I, we for sure would've put our name on the list. 

We did not eat at Neptune Oyster, but you should.  |  Neptune Oyster - Boston

Instead, we went down the street to Antico Forno, a Neapolitan pizza place with ample space. The pizza was nothing special, but it suited our immediate food needs. Plus, even mediocre pizza is still pizza.

If we'd had more time, I would've checked out Santarpio's. Established in 1903 and still family run, the place is legendary. I mean, just go to their website and look at the guy who's pictured in the header. Seem like someone who knows their stuff. Oh well, next time. 

Coffee:

Mid-afternoon, we stopped at Modern Pastry for a coffee, pastry and general warm-up. Open for over 70 years, this ain't your hipster, pour-over coffee bar and that's precisely what I like about it. One of our Uber drivers recommended it over Mike's (the North End pastry shop everyone talks about). I didn't think I liked cannoli, but I tried a bite and it turns out they're delicious. 

Get the cannoli.  |  Modern Pastry - Boston

Dinner:

We ate two dinners in town, both within walking distance our hotel. Coppa, Chef Jamie Bissonnette's intimate and casual Italian restaurant specializing in charcuterie, plus pizza and shareable pastas/proteins. It's small, candle-lit and dare I say a little romantic... even if you are trying not to spill food on your sleeping baby's head. Bissonnette, along with business partner Chef Ken Oringer, operate a few restaurants in town (Toro = Spanish food; Little Donkey = "global" cuisine). They're all excellent choices.

Up past everyone's bed time. No regrets.  |  Coppa - Boston

My husband is all about Italian food, but I'm all about the Asian cuisine. On night two, we visited Myers + Chang-- Joanne Chang's (remember her from breakfast?) full-fledged restaurant. Inspired by Taiwanese soul food and Southeast Asian street food, it's big/bright Asian flavors with loads of modern style.

Sweet & Sour Brussels Sprouts  |  Myers + Chang - Boston

We ordered a lot of things to share, notably the smoked spare ribs, sweet and sour Brussles sprouts, braised pork belly buns, and dan dan noodles. Each item was better than the next, and even my Italian-loving husband was like "this stuff is delicious." 

Of course, no trip to Boston is complete without some clam chowder. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to eat any in town. BUT! Our flight was delayed, and there are a bunch of Legal Seafood outposts at Logan Airport. Josh and I each ordered a cup and you know what? It was delicious and the perfect send-off to a successful Beantown trip. 

What are some of your favorite spots in Boston? Share in the comments-- I'm sure we'll be back!

How to Have a Fun Winter Weekend in Boston  |  Hey Eleanor

Photos: 1 / 2 / 3

How to Always Find An Awesome Restaurant

My secret weapon for finding the best restaurants when traveling. 

I love food.

When I travel, I could pretty much skip any museum or landmark and just hit up restaurants. And coffee shops. And dive bars. And ice cream places. 

I think good food makes or breaks a vacation, a birthday, a celebration, or just a meal away from home. It bums me out when people come to my city and eat at an Olive Garden instead of Matt's Bar or Hola Arepa. Come on, you work hard for the money, so why not spend it on delicious food you can't get anywhere else?

Outside of this blog, I'm primarily a food and travel writer. I get peppered with emails and texts from people seeking restaurant recs all the time. While I'm well-versed in many U.S. city's greatest hits, I often find myself double-checking my work. 

There is a place I can almost always depend on for good restaurant advice. 

It's certainly not Yelp. (Who even knows who's writing those reviews?!)

It's not TripAdvisor. (Ick.)

It's not a New York Times review from 1996. 

When I'm traveling, I turn to Eater.

If you're not familiar, Eater is website all about food, restaurant and chef news. They do have a national site, but also city-themed micro sites that get updated daily. The best part? They actually rely on local writers who know things and are passionate about their city's food scene, not just average joes who want to bitch about a restaurant experience online.

Eater is great for travelers looking to find awesome restaurants.

You can pretty much get an overview of the an entire city's food scene through their Eater 38 lists (aka the best 38 restaurants in a particular city), Heat Maps (lists of what's hot right now; not always winners, but definitely the buzziest!), plus roundups of best places to cocktail, brunch, grab a coffee (<<< I actually wrote this Minneapolis one for them, NBD) and more. Each listing is short and sweet, perfect for getting the vibe of a place without having to dig through 2,000 word reviews from the local monthly magazine. Plus, they feature hoity-toity spots next to down and dirty dives, so trust me: there's something on Eater for everyone, not just people swimming in money. 

If the city you're visiting doesn't have a dedicated Eater site yet, use their search function to see if they've written about wherever you're going. For example, Madison, Wisconsin doesn't have one, but I searched "Wisconsin" and found this super-helpful list, which prompted my husband and I to grab a drink at Graft & dinner at Estrellon. Both were great. If you're traveling internationally, try there search function-- they do offer some, but not tons, of global recommendations. 

So, if you're traveling in the near future and want to impress your friends or coworkers with your restaurant expertise, check out my secret weapon. You won't be sorry. 

* * *

What's your favorite way to find places to eat, sleep and hang out when you travel? Share in the comments. PS Here's where I ate while in Nashville. Guess where I got many of those recommendations... 

How I always find amazing restaurants when I travel. 

Everyday Eleanor: How to Travel Internationally with Kids

Dream of traveling internationally with kids? It can be done!

A lot of parents like to talk about how lame their lives are post-kids. I get it. I won't have an actual kid for another three months, and yet I'm already significantly more lame the more pregnant I get. However, I am over adults using kids as their lameness scapegoat. If you want to go to a concert, you can (unless the sitter bails). If you want to join a kickball league, you can. And according to Shanna Singh Hughey, if you want to travel all over Europe and Asia with the little ones, well by-golly you can do that, too.

Last year, she and her husband packed up the kids and headed out on a three-month global adventure. They claim it was a success. Here's how they did it (plus, what they might do differently next time). 

* * *
 

You and your husband are both travel geeks. Tell us about your honeymoon.

Three days after our 2007 wedding, my husband Derek and I left for a year-long trip around the world. Carrying only our backpacks, we visited forty countries on five continents. We trekked through jungles in Borneo, white-water rafted in Swaziland and ate our weight in steak and empanadas in Argentina. We also spent as much time as possible doing service work—from holding babies in a Chinese orphanage to helping negotiate the terms of a financial agreement for a micro-lender in India.

In all, we took 65 flights, 66 bus rides, 52 boat trips—and 12,912 photos. It was the trip of a lifetime, and it changed our lives in oh so many ways.
 

Since then, you’ve had two beautiful kids. Instead of retiring your passports for the next two decades, you decided to take them (ages four and two) on an epic three-month adventure. What inspired that? Why did you think now was the right time?

On our honeymoon, Derek and I met fellow travelers with children in tow, and we were always impressed by how confident and worldly their young folk seemed. Those families made traveling with children seem not only possible but beneficial, and we pledged to follow in their footsteps.

On a more selfish note, we knew we didn’t want to constrain our own travels until after our kids went to college, and leaving them home wasn’t really an option. We’d miss them too much! And also there are these pesky laws...

That's not Disney World. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

We think every time is the right time to travel with children. Our children got their passports soon after they got their birth certificates, and we wasted no time in traveling internationally with them. Harper’s first trip abroad was to Portugal when she was eleven weeks old, and Walker went to Mexico at six months. (Before age two, children generally fly for free!) They were primed for our three-month adventure long before we left.

Derek sent me an Outlook invitation for that trip four years before we went. I’ve spent most of my career working in politics, and we knew the term-limited mayor for whom I worked would be leaving office in September 2015. So that became our departure date.

People like to say things like, travel as much as you can when you’re young. When you have kids, you’ll wish you had! Do you think teeny, tiny part of the reason you decided to embark on this journey was to prove it could be done?

Yes! Proving it could be done was absolutely part of the reason we took two children under five around the world. I think sometimes families get into a travel rut—you go back to the same location year after year because your lives are too busy to consider anything else. We wanted to show it was possible—and so, so worth it—to break free of that mold.

How many countries did you visit? How did you decide where to go?

We went to just five countries on this trip: Spain, France, Thailand, Japan and Bhutan. We moved around within those countries every few days, so we covered a lot of ground.

One of many reasons kids love France. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

Deciding where to go was half the fun, and each new place came with its own reason for being there. Our everyday lives in Nashville leave us feeling landlocked, so we often use travel as a way to get to the sea. Our first destination was thus San Sebastian, Spain, where our apartment looked over the ocean. Thai beaches are our happy place, so we planned to spend a couple of weeks there at the end of our trip—ensuring we’d have something to look forward to when we got a little road weary. Bhutan had been on our bucket list for years, but its location deep in the Himalayas makes it relatively difficult to reach. Once we knew we’d already be in Asia, it became the centerpiece our itinerary.

I can see why you'd call this your happy place. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

Any spots that were surprisingly easy to travel with kids? Anywhere you might suggest not taking the ankle biters?

We loved traveling with the kids in Spain. Everyone seemed to have a smile for our bespectacled little girl and her lunatic younger brother. And sidewalk cafes are plentiful there, which meant Derek and I could enjoy a meal while Walker chased pigeons.

Tokyo, too, was a wonderful place to be with children. We were able to walk everywhere, and we were overwhelmed by the willingness of the Japanese people to lend a hand. One tiny Japanese woman singlehandedly carried our double stroller down two flights of subway stairs, thus cementing forever my love of her country.

We learned that France’s wine-tasting regions aren’t the best for families with children. (Retrospectively, this seems like common sense, but I suppose we were starry-eyed optimists.) Our children tended to announce their arrival at a restaurant by immediately breaking a piece of fancy stemware—much to the chagrin of all of the kid-free couples trying to enjoy their duck confit in peace.

What about traveling internationally with kids has been easier than expected? Harder?

Mostly we’ve been surprised by the relative ease of traveling with kids. I used to dread long flights with the power of a thousand suns, but after surviving dozens of them, I’ve realized they’re almost never as bad as I expect them to be. Nobody has gotten food poisoning despite eating a lot of street food, and everyone has learned to adjust to time zone changes like a pro.

Move over, mac n cheese. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

One of the harder things for me about life on the road is the lack of the kid-related conveniences to which I’ve become so accustomed. Amazon Prime is a near-daily part of our lives at home, and I missed the on-demand diapers while we were away. On the flip side, though, finding diapers in Japan is a cultural experience I would have missed given the opportunity to buy them online. I’ll sum it up this way: Finding the right ones often felt like more of a scavenger hunt than a shopping trip.

Traveling internationally with kids is possible! Here's how one family traveled abroad for three months.

Traveling with kids is notoriously difficult, and often requires packing so much extra crap. However, with as much moving around as you did, streamlining your packing is key. What did you bring? What was a lifesaver and what ended up being less important than you thought? Anything that you wish you would’ve packed?

We brought along two large suitcases, one for the adults and one for the children. If something didn’t fit in them, it couldn’t come. We packed clothing for the kids that gave them room to grow, and we made sure to bring lots of layering-friendly items that would take us from the mountains to the beach.

Eagle Creek’s clean-dirty packing cubes were our key to success for packing the kids’ clothing. It’s hard to keep their little things neatly folded, and Harper chooses her own clothes, which but for the cubes would be an organizational disaster. This way, she has one side of a cube for PJs and the other for t-shirts, one side for leggings and the other for dresses.

Fact: Shoulders are more fun that strollers. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

Our car seat bags were another huge lifesaver. Airlines don’t charge you baggage fees to transport them, and even with a car seat inside you can still stuff those suckers with everything your suitcase won’t hold. They were our go-to keepers of extra diapers and dirty laundry.

We also brought a small retractable cable lock for our double stroller, which gave me peace of mind when we had to leave it outside a restaurant or a temple. We didn’t think our stroller was more likely to get stolen abroad; rather, we knew our quality of life would decline much more precipitously than at home if it did.

Harper’s rain boots were our biggest waste of space. She wore sparkly pink cowgirl boots the entire trip, which didn’t leave time for any other footwear.

Greatest travel moment with your little ones?

We were in western Bhutan at a Buddhist temple—a venue our children ordinarily wouldn’t quite get. They noticed a young monk crafting religious offerings from dough made of multi-colored sugar. (Sugar! A common bond!) He invited them to watch, and they sat, transfixed, for as long as I would let them. Seeing my two sandy-haired kids bonding with a saffron-robed monk was an experience I won’t soon forget.

Sugar: the international and inter-generational language. | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

Are you already planning your next adventure? Where would you like to go?

We’ve already had our next adventure! We spent a delightful twelve days in Mexico City and Puerto Escondido in February, and we can’t wait to get back to Latin America. It’s just a quick flight away, and it’s mostly on Nashville’s Central time zone, which keeps naps on track.

Lots of smiles, no tears (at least not in this picture). | How to Travel Internationally with Kids

As for future travels: Derek’s parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary is this year, and they want to celebrate onboard a Northern European cruise. So we’ll be in Denmark, Estonia, Latvia, Germany, Finland, Russia and Sweden in June. 

* * *

Learn more about Shanna and her traveling family at One Family on Earth. Follow their global adventures on Instagram while you're at it. 

Do you like travel blog posts? Neat, I have a bunch. Here's what it's like to honeymoon in New Zealand (bring lots of bug spray!), babymoon in the Florida Keys, and celebrate like Dolly Parton in Nashville. 
 

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The Best (and Worst) of Our Florida Keys Babymoon

Screw you, Zika virus. Florida Keys, here we come!

One of the biggest reasons I was excited about being pregnant? It was an excuse to take a trip with my husband.

Yes, a babymoon.

I don't like the term either, but that's just what it's called until someone can think of a better name. 

We'd talked a lot about Mexico. I'd already zeroed in on a stunning, casual hotel in Playa del Carmen. While the rest of you were getting gussied up for holiday parties, I was parked on the couch in my pajamskis, planning the pregnant lady trip of a lifetime. 

And then, the damn Zika Virus.

We'd had our hearts set on a hot beach vacation, but almost every place that fit the bill was in the deadly mosquito zone. We'd already been planning on spending a long weekend at my mom's place in Florida, so we opted to tack on a few days.

Florida Keys Babymoon was on.

Neither of us had been to the Keys, and while we'd heard mixed things (It's beautiful! It's trashy! It's kitschy!), we figured at least it would be hot and by the ocean. 

Ultimately, we decided to spend two nights in Islamorada (in the middle; more low-key; sport fishing capital of the world!) and two nights in Key West. Was it perfect? Ha! No, but it was fun. Even when we made many, many mistakes.
 

DAY ONE

Though the Miami (and certainly Key West!) airport is significantly closer to the Keys, we flew into Fort Myers-- near my mom's place, where we spent the last few days of our trip. 

Unfortunately, that meant the first day of vacation was spent driving.

Luckily, we got to drive this: 

Red Jeep Wrangler alert! Directions to the 1990s, please.

Whenever we rent a car, Josh and I try to pick out the most ridiculous option. It was between this and a minivan.

No contest. 

We drove through the Everglades, which is only slightly more scenic than the freeway. Around 8:30pm, we pulled into Cheeca Lodge-- a place I selected because it looked to be on the nicer side, but not over-the-top expensive. The place has a 70-year history (I love history!) and presidents have stayed there. If it's good enough for George Bush, it's probably good enough for us.

As we pulled into the property, I was pumped. It felt way nicer in person than online! Lush greenery, lovely outdoor lighting (we arrived after dark), and a fancy room upgrade-- I think because we were only there for Sunday and Monday nights. 

Josh and I split a Key lime tart and had a night cap (aka soda water for me. Lame.) at the outdoor tiki bar before hitting the hay. It was delicious and tasted like vacation.  

DAY TWO
 

In the daylight, Cheeca Lodge was even prettier. 

Josh isn't that into having his picture taken. 

Though I'm not really a resort kind of person, they had lots of nice amenities. There's a humongous fishing pier, snorkeling lagoon, family-friendly and adults-only pools, spa, fitness center, pioneer cemetery (curveball!), plus chairs for lounging on the sorta-kinda beach. Did you know the Keys barely have beaches? Well, now you do.

All this stuff is technically included with your stay.

But...

...there is a sneaky $45 per day resort fee that makes it seem like it isn't actually included in your stay at all. Resort fees run rampant throughout the Keys, so if paying an extra $20-50 a day is a problem, ask before you book. It's added on top of the room rate. Super frustrating as it was too windy to even sit on the beach during our stay.

Oh well, live and learn.
 

Cheeca Lodge in Islamorada, Florida. 

On our first full vacation day, we opted to go fishing.

We splurged and chartered a boat for a half-day of fishing-- just Josh, me and our guide, Dave. While there are plenty of public fishing trips that cost a fraction of the price, the wind made for some pretty rough water. As a pregnant lady, I wanted to stay in the calm backwaters and near a bathroom. I sure wasn't going to pee off the back of a boat (not that I'm too classy for such things!). 
 

Believe it or not, that shark is not real! | Bud N' Mary's - Islamorada, FL

We were sold on Bud N' Mary's on the name alone, but based on everyone we talked to in the Keys (and back home) said, these guys set the bar for sport fishing. Plus, they have a small sandwich shop on-site, were you can order simple and delicious sandwiches, chips and soda to take on the boat. Ice and cooler provided by your guide.
 

Bud N' Mary's - Islamorada, FL

Though I did bait my own hook one time, Dave mostly dealt with the bait and removed the fish. Josh did this on his own because "he is a man." 

We caught dozens of mangrove snapper (dinner!), white grunts and my personal favorite, crevalle jacks (pictured below). These guys fight like crazy, snort like a pig and I EVEN TOUCHED ONE!!! They're not good eatin', so it was a catch and release kind of thing. 
 

Pure joy!

Here's Joshy with a mangrove snapper (and awesome sunglasses purchased at Seven-Eleven).
 

Josh, catching us dinner. 

By the end of the day, we'd caught our snapper limit. Dave cleaned the fish and bagged them up nicely-- perfect for transporting to nearby Lazy Days (reservations highly recommended), where they'll cook your catch for $15.99 a person. Paired with a soup or salad, side and banana bread (what?!), it was probably the best meal of our trip.
 

Mangrove snapper.  |  Bud N' Mary's - Islamorada, FL

PS Almost as good as reeling in the fish: watching the pelicans hang out by the cleaning stations, hoping to feed on some fish guts.
 

Pelicans. | Bud N' Mary's - Islamorada, FL

Seriously, how cool are these birds? | Bud N' Mary's - Islamorada, FL

DAY THREE

Since Cheeca Lodge's mediocre breakfast buffet cost $30 a person (nope.), we headed to nearby Bob's Bunz-- a greasy spoon specializing in heart-stopping breakfast plates and baked goods.

There's literally nothing I enjoy more than going out for breakfast, especially at a place where it seems the waitresses should have a lit ciggy dangling off their lip as they take your order.
 

A well-balanced breakfast at Bob's Bunz. |  Islamorada, FL

After breakfast, it was off to Key West.

Before hitting the road, we stopped at a juice bar. It's in a weird spot, so here's how you find it:

Step One: Look for this grocery store.

Just your average, basic small town grocery store. |  Islamorada, FL

Step Two: Walk through the parking lot, past the guy smoking next to the dumpsters, and look for sign that says Village Square.

Step Three: Venture straight ahead to URBN GRDN, a juice bar that isn't open at 10:15 am, even though the sign says they open at 10. 

URBN GRDN operates on island time. | Islamorada, FL

Step Four: Browse through Miss Monroe and uCumbe boutiques (next door) for 20 minutes. Buy something cute that you don't need.

Step Five: Go back to URBN GRDN. Wait for juice guy to climb out of hammock. Order cold pressed juices. Hit the road. 

We heard the drive the to Key West is an attraction on its own.

Yep. 

An old train bridge in the Florida Keys.

Our Florida Keys friends-in-the-know recommended we stop at Bahia Honda State Park. For a few bucks, we got for-real beach access. 

Beautiful, right?
 

Bahia Honda State Park - Florida Keys

They offer snorkel and kayak rentals, but it was too windy that day, so we opted to get sunburned on the beach instead.
 

Bahia Honda State Park - Florida Keys

We arrived in Key West just in time to check-in at our crummy hotel, and make it to Mallory Square for sunset. Nothing like watching the sun slip into the ocean with 3,000 of your best, most drunkest friends!
 

This lived up to the hype.
 

Sunset at Mallory Square | Key West, Florida

Key West is known for crazy nightlife.

Pregnancy, on the other hand, is not. A sober stroll down Duval Street had me feeling equal parts elated (great people-watching!), and bummed. Not that I like drinking overly-sugared drinks out of yard glasses, but I like the option.

Luckily, Josh is a Google master and found the Porch, a craft cocktail spot just off Duval. This photo sucks, but I was thrilled to order a classy, delicious, herby mocktail. 
 

Drinking mocktails at the Porch. | Key West, Florida. 

We talked about taking a ghost tour, but they didn't leave for another two hours. Well-past pregnant lady bedtime. 

DAY FOUR
 

107 years of breakfast? Count me in! | Pepe's Cafe - Key West, Florida

When you're pregnant, you swap late nights in bars for breakfast. At over a century-old, I knew Pepe's was our kind of place even if the food sucked (it didn't). They have a great doggies-allowed patio, but we were seated inside... 
 

Pepe's Cafe | Key West, Florida

...which was also very cool! 
 

Pepe's Cafe | Key West, Florida

All good diners have three things:

ONE: Thick, ceramic ivory diner mugs (check!).

TWO: Lots of cool old crap on the walls (check!).

THREE: Awesome, sweet item to share with my breakfast compadres. I almost always order a traditional two eggs over-easy, bacon, potatoes and toast. At Pepe's, I upgraded my toast to coconut bread, which is like banana bread, but with coconut (check!!!).
 

Diner mug, coconut bread, crap on the walls... breakfast heaven. | Pepe's - Key West, Florida

After breakfast, we took a leisurely stroll to the Hemingway House. Seeing the 50-some Hemingway cats was worth the $13 entry fee alone.  
 

Hemingway House | Key West, Florida

One of the six-toed Hemingway cats. | Hemingway House | Key West, Florida

A ten minute walk from the Hemingway House, you'll find this iconic landmark. We queued up with a bunch of other tourists to get the damn photo, where for a split second, I was the southernmost pregnant lady in the U.S.A.
 

Southernmost Pregnant Lady | Key West, Florida

A Key West babymoon was actually more fun than we'd expected.

I'd heard from so many people that Key West is incredibly touristy, loud and full of drunk people. Though all these things are true, they neglected to mention Old Town Key West is teeming with history, cool architecture, tons of B&Bs that are calm, quiet and away from sloppy drunks. 

I wish I'd known that before we booked our hotel.

Imagining Florida's version of Bourbon Street, we selected this hotel under the impression that it was a more laid-back option-- an island oasis, if you will. Instead, it was next to the super-busy highway, nestled between a construction site and some rundown apartments. The hotel itself was okay and would be totally great if you were looking for clean, stylish, cheap and didn't mind cabbing or biking anywhere cool.

But we cared.

Long story short... if you have the cash, stay in Old Key West. It's walkable, low-key and would've made our stay in Key West feel like a bonafide vacation. 

We ended up canceling our second night in Key West, and after spending the day there, headed back up to Islamorada. We'll know better for next time. 

Here's me waving goodbye to our hotel.
 

Buh-bye, trendy lifestyle hotel in a crappy parking lot!

We made it back to Islamorada just in time to catch sunset at Lor-e-lei Cabana Bar. Not bad at all. 
 

Sunset at Lor-e-lei Cabana Bar | Islamorada, Florida

That night, we went out for dinner and then I got sick and puked for an hour or two in our filthy hotel bathroom. At the time, I was pretty bummed out. But in retrospect, is it really a babymoon without the pregnant lady barfing at least once?

DAY FIVE

It was already time to head back to Fort Myers. But first, breakfast.

Mrs. Mac's Kitchen | Key Largo, Florida

Floridians definitely get how to do breakfast. Especially Mrs. Mac, an old-school, roadside diner in Key Largo. 
 

Mrs. Mac's Kitchen | Key Largo, Florida

I ordered Mrs. Mac's Famous Mornwich-- a pita filled with two scrambled eggs, cheese, tomato, bacon and mayo, with a side of homemade hashbrown casserole. It doesn't look pretty, but it tasted great, so who cares. 
 

Didn't like the diner mug, but the sandwich made up for it. | Mrs. Mac's | Key Largo, Florida

Was this the babymoon of our dreams?

Nope. 

I'd really hoped for a romantic babymoon. A last hurrah before everything changes forever. Instead, we had bad luck with hotels, I got food poisoning, and we came more tired than when we left. 

However, this trip did showcase all the reasons why I think Josh and I will be great parents. Even when we were really disappointed, we laughed it off. (Okay, he laughed. I cried, then eventually laughed). We did the best we could, and when things weren't to our liking, we improvised. We still managed to have fun, together. 

So maybe that's actually what a babymoon is about. 

Hanging out with my father of my children. NBD!

(Though next time, let's hang out on a beach in Mexico, K?). 

* * *
 

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Here's the best (and worst) of our trip to the Florida Keys. Learn from our successes and mistakes!

The Integratron: A Fun, Weird Road Trip from Palm Springs

Nothing weird happening here. Just kidding. 

Until a few years ago, I thought of Palm Springs as a boring place in the desert for old people who like to golf. I didn't quite realize it was a mid-century mecca full of awesome architecture, stunning mountains and stylish gay men. It's also one of the sunniest places on the planet. Put it all together and bam!

I'm already planning my Palm Springs retirement. 

When my dad asked Josh and I to join him for a long weekend in the desert, I pretty much booked our tickets before I even asked Josh if he could get the time off from work.

Details.

I love lounging by the pool as much as the next guy, but that's kind of what my last to Palm Springs was all about. This time, I wanted to enjoy some of the kitsch this town has to offer, like hiking to Bob Hope's house. After a thorough googling, I settled on one especially odd experience that looked straight out of a 1960s B movie:

Behold: The Integratron.

Welcome to the future, kinda.

About an hour's drive north of Palm Springs, you'll find this little white dome in the middle of the Mojave Desert. 
 

Wind power... it's a thing.

This structure was built in 1959 by ufologist and contactee George Van Tassel. This guy claimed the Integratron was capable of rejuvenation, anti-gravity and time travel, and allegedly he knew this because aliens from Venus told him so. It was financed predominantly by donations, including funds from Howard Hughes.

Clearly, there is nothing weird going on here. 

The all-wood dome, which measures 38-feet high and spans 55-feet in diameter, features perfect acoustics and is positioned on an intersection of powerful geomagnetic forces that concentrate and amplify the earth’s magnetic field.

Basically, this is some serious new age shit.

Shockingly, Van Tassel's machine didn't really ever work as a time machine (hard to believe!), nor did it reverse-age humans as he purported is would (say what?!). When he died in 1978, the place shuffled through a few owners until three sisters bought the Landers, CA gem. These ladies restored the structure and have opened it to the public.  

The Ingratron: Pretty. Weird. Pretty weird.

Now I know what you're probably thinking:

What in the hell would you do in the Integratron?

Take a sound bath, of course!

Before you start stripping down to your skivvies, let's get a few things straight. A sound bath requires no water. It's  a 60-minute sonic healing sessions that consist of 25 minutes of crystal bowls played live, followed by another 25 minutes of relaxing recorded music. The sequence of quartz crystal singing bowls are (according to the Integratron peeps) "keyed to the energy centers or chakras of the body, where sound is nutrition for the nervous system." Allegedly, the experience leave you feeling peaceful, aware and totally relaxed.

Compelling.

I booked our sound bath ahead of time ($26 each; definitely recommended as they sell out). My dad likes this kind of thing, my husband... was a good sport about it. We followed our directions to the middle of the desert, thinking, is there really anything out here? Eventually, we saw the white dome against a big, blue sky, and pulled into the parking lot. 

We entered an even smaller dome, smogged up with some really nice smelling incense, and confirmed our reservation with a man who sported a big, bushy beard. He asked if this was our first time at the Integratron. Um....yep. I listened as he asked everyone else checking in. Over half had been before. Repeat customers! That's a good sign. 

At noon, we were allowed to enter the dome. The building has two floors, the first a plain area with some vintage photos and a big rug for everyone's shoes. Once in bare or stocking feet, we climbed up a steep flight of stairs into this:

Ommmmmmm.

We called dibs on three mats and got comfortable as we waited for instructions. I looked around the room. Our fellow sound bathers included artsy hipsters, older women in flowy maxi dresses, a mid-20s couple in Big Ten hoodies, and a few couples in their 50s who looked like they'd maybe played golf that morning. 
 

The group skewed hippy-dippy, but more diverse than I'd expected.

Eventually, our quartz bowl player (a guy in his late 40s), entered the space, and gave us a little context.

The Integratron is a spiritual place. Our perfect acoustics create the ideal environment for the tones of these quartz bowls to deeply resonate within the body. Many experience vibrating waves pulsating throughout their body; others see dancing colors. I've even had a few people receive messages from deceased loved ones. 

Riiight.... He continued:

You may notice you can clearly hear and understand whispers from across the room. If you're a snorer, I encourage you to try an not fall asleep as it your snores will become increasingly loud and disturb the experience for the others. But if you do fall asleep and start snoring, don't worry. It happens in almost every session. 

Great. And here I am with my dad, who can barely make it through the first six seconds of a movie without falling asleep. He's also the loudest snorer I've ever heard. I'm at the Integratron with the auditory equivalent of a bull in a China shop.

The quartz bowls at the Integratron. 

We were instructed to lay down and cover ourselves with a blanket if desired. Next, I heard a faint tone. Kind of like when Sandra Bullock plays those water glasses in Miss Congeniality, only much richer and deeper. As he continued playing, the sound started to fill up the space. Initially, it was incredibly loud and sounded a little like a whale's mating call. How was I ever going to get comfortable enough the fall asleep?

Within minutes, that all went away.

Instead of being distracted, my mind became totally "present." You know, like they say it should be in a meditation or yoga class. My body buzzed from head to toe, and I began seeing ribbons of green, purple and yellow dancing-- kind of like the northern lights. My eyes were closed the entire time. At one point, I felt like I was floating over small waves on an air mattress. And next thing I knew, I heard people shuffling around, putting their blankets back and walking back downstairs.  
 

I'd completely fallen asleep. 

Was I a snorer? Maybe, but I was too out to notice or care. 

On our way to lunch, my dad and Josh both said they'd felt similar things. A buzzing, mostly. Nobody communicated with the dead, which was just fine by all of us. We all agreed this was well-worth the drive, the weirdness (which I especially loved) and the $26.

And bonus: the Integratron is just a half an hour from Pioneertown. 

Built in the 40s, Pioneertown started as a live-in Old West motion-picture set. It's really in the boonies, so the set also functioned as housing and recreation for the actors on long shoots. Pappy and Harriet's Palace is one of a handful of businesses still operating today. 

Pappy & Harriet's Palace - Pioneertown, California. 

As you make your way to this tiny village, you'll think to yourself "Is this just some elaborate hoax to get me out into the middle of the desert a la Breaking Bad?" I promise, it exists. And bikers, families and adventure bloggers all agree: this place is awesome. 

How badly do you want to order a whiskey from that bar??!

Pappy & Harriet's - Pioneertown

They do rib-sticking Tex-Mex, barbecue, and burgers. It's not healthy, but it's damn good. 
 

Chili with a side of mac-n-cheese. 

Pappy & Harriet's chicken Tex-Mex bowl. 

If you're lucky, you might stumble upon this place during one of their concert nights. It's a small place, but big name bands love it. Robert Plant, Vampire Weekend, and Wanda Jackson have all played here. Not a bad, considering you're in the middle of nowhere.

I can't recommend a trip to Palm Springs enough. And if you go, spend a day in Mojave getting your sound bath and Tex-Mex on. And who knows? Even if you don't time-travel like George Van Tassel said you would, a trip to Pioneertown is pretty darn close. 

* * *
 

Do you like New Age adventures? Me too! Here's what happened when I had my past lives read. Also, the time I won at yoga! 

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About an hour's drive north of Palm Springs, you'll find this little white dome in the middle of the Mojave Desert. 

What I Learned From a Scary Italian Cab Ride

Italy: known for food, wine, churches and scary cab rides. 

Two weeks ago, I joined my husband on what I dubbed our lemons to lemoncello tour (we kinda had a shitty fall). Basically, he was going to Germany and Italy for work and I decided to tag along. Ah, the joys of working for yourself!

We'd spend a few days with friends in Berlin. Josh would leave me back in Germany to work for a few days in France and Italy. I would meet up with him at his hotel in Milan for a few days of carbs, wine and meandering. It's what you do in Italy.

I was mostly excited. I was also a little scared.
 

At the risk of sounding extremely annoying, I am well-traveled. I've been to all seven continents. I've spent days crossing the Drake Passage (known as the most turbulent waters on earth & was scary as all eff) and three weeks traveling through India (anywhere with predominantly squat toilets gets a Hey Eleanor seal of approval from yours truly!). I've been some awesome places, but I'm been in some scary ones, too.

So suffice it to say, I was baffled when I started losing sleep over the fact that I had to take a cab, on my own, from Milan's Linate airport to my hotel. 

It all started before we even left for Europe. Josh and I were talking logistics, and he mentioned that I should just take a cab from the airport unless I wanted to figure out the train. Train? From literally one side of the city to another? At night? In Italy? Where they built roads when the main form of transportation was horses? And streets are literally marked with teeny-tiny decorative signs posted on buildings sometimes? Ahnothankyou!

Cab it is!  

As the days between me and the looming cab ride ticked away, I started worrying. What if I got ripped off (everyone who's been to Italy has an "Italian cab driver story.)? What if I couldn't explain where we were going? What if I got dumped out at the wrong address? Am I supposed to tip? What if the taxi driver was a murderer? What if, what if, what if!

A decade ago, I might have had a little anxiety about taking a cab by myself in a foreign country, but nothing major. In fact, I once took a "cab" home in London that I am pretty sure was just a regular guy in a regular car who was willing to drive me and a friend to our hostel across town. I wasn't scared at all.

Maybe it was the alcohol.

At any rate, something in me has changed dramatically since college. I noticed it more on this European trip than I have anywhere else. I'm less inclined to trust random strangers (maybe it has a little to do with this incident?), less interested in staying in until 2 am (because that's when the "good" bars open! Ha, as if I even care.), and certainly less interested in sleeping anywhere with a shared bathroom. Just no.

I think I've grown up.

 But back to this cab thing. 

After deplaning, grabbing my bags and following the clearly marked signs, I hopped into a queue of people who either just enjoy smoking in a line or were waiting for a cab. I think both. Oh my gosh, people still smoke A LOT in Italy. I'd love to tell you that I hate it, but I don't. I like their devil-may-care attitude. 

Taxi line in Milan. Smoking suggested, but not required.

After some lady who was old enough to know better (but not too old to care) swooped in and took the cab that was supposed to be mine, a driver in a white mini van waived me over. He helped me with my bags, then asked me where I was going in Italian. 

Novate Milanese! I said, just as I'd been rehearsing for an hour in my head, complete with what I thought was a pretty good Italian accent. 

Blank stare.

Okay, okay. No big deal. I handed him the hotel address that I'd written down on a piece of paper. Okay, he said. 

I hopped in the back, he sat up front and plugged the address into the GPS and started driving. As he pulled onto the freeway, he started speaking to himself in a quizzical fashion. It was pretty clear that the address wasn't popping up. 

He explained what was going on (in Italian), then, while the car is still moving, he picks up one of those old school 900-page city map books and starts flipping through the well-worn pages. As a person who can't stand when someone is texting or looking at their phone while driving, this is a whole new level danger. At least you can see around your phone a little bit. An open book of maps that you're physically paging through? Come on!!! 
 

Reading & driving. NBD

EEEEEEEEE!

Once we're on the freeway, it's all taillights. Rush hour. I can kind of see over his shoulder to the GPS, which seems to now be pinpointing something in the general area of my hotel. Trust me when I say I researched exactly where & how long this ride would take (because anxiety!). I figured without traffic, it should take about 30 minutes and cost between $45-65 euros. I could've sworn GPS said the freeway would take 27 minutes. He announces, Many cars here. I go city center. Hmmm... that sounds like a scam! As he's exiting, he says, about 45 minutes.

I have two choices. One, point out that I think he's not telling me the truth, try to explain that I saw that the GPS said the freeway is 27 minutes, and that I think he's screwing me over. OR I just sit back and enjoy the ride and don't bitch about anything because I have no idea where I am and wouldn't enjoy getting dumped in some random part of the city with all my luggage and knowledge of six Italian words (that are all food related and will not help).

I choose the latter, less stressful option. 

It's great. We fly though roundabouts, I get to look at all the weirdly named businesses (did you know the Italian word for massage is massaggi? Isn't that delightful?!), all is well. Within 30 minutes, we've crossed the entire city and appear to be nearing Novate Milanese. I even see it on a sign. 

We pull off the main road and onto a creepy, dark street with a tall concrete barrier on one side and a bunch of abandoned houses on the other. Okay. This is okay. I am fine. I can see on the map that we're in the right-ish area. Next, he takes a left into what's clearly abandoned industrial park. 

Clearly, my hotel is not here. But we keep driving down the long, winding road until we hit a dead end. I quickly come up with my exit strategy. If shit goes down, I'll grab my purse, leave everything else in the car, throw the van's sliding door open and run. As I clutched my bag, ready to make a break for it, he slowly turns around and goesback the way we came. After a few more wrong turns, I see a brand new hotel-- built in the middle of nowhere-- just ahead of us. 

That's it! I shouted. 

He pulled up front, helped me unload my bags, and said, "47 euros." Literally two euros more than my low-end estimate of the cab ride. I forked it over, along with an extra few euros, because you tip taxi drivers, right? He gave me a confused look. Oh god. You don't tip cab drivers. Especially ones who were lost for the last 10 minutes of your ride. I barely cared. I'd made it to the hotel without getting murdered or ripped off, as far as I could tell. 

Josh was waiting for me in the lobby. After I nearly squeezed him to death, I relayed my cab adventure. He said, Oh no! I should've told you that the hotel recommends giving drivers a different address. This hotel is so new that it doesn't come up on GPS. 
 

It all made sense.

The next day, I had to take another solo cab ride and wasn't scared at all. I didn't tip, either. 

This whole cab fiasco reminded me of something incredibly important-- one of the biggest lessons I've learned since starting Hey Eleanor. It's important to practice living outside your comfort zone. If you're routinely doing things that make you even a little uncomfortable, it expands your comfort zone and makes you more open to new experiences. Ultimately, it helps quell your anxiety.

The older we get, the more we get set in routines. I think that's a big reason why a lot of things get "scarier" as we get older. We're out of practice. So thanks, Italian cab driver and your big book of maps, for reminding me to keep pushing my boundaries a little bit every day. 

* * *

Like solo travel stories? Here's three great ones: Sarah Von Bargen on solo lady travel, what it's like to drive cross-country by yourself, and why Jordan decided to take a trip to Central America alone after her companions bailed last minute. 
 

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