I suppose most of us usually travel on an airline assuming that our luggage will arrive either with us or, worst case scenario, a few days later. What we don’t expect is to find that our luggage has arrived, but only after having been completely plundered by the very people we entrusted it to, yet this is exactly what is happening with luggage going into and out of South Africa.

I thought it was a fluke when a friend of mine went there last year only to have one suitcase looted of anything that could possibly be resold, including her clothing. Luckily for her, they took the Levi’s and left the Armani! I then assumed it was coincidence when another friend divulged that a few months earlier a similar thing had happened to him when traveling to South Africa. One of his two bags had been opened and anything of value liberated. As I questioned both travelers, I was surprised to discover that in both situations the cases were opened with TSA keys! In fact, in one case they even left a little note indicating it had been officially opened – how kind. Of course, I found this to be appalling, but after realizing that it was airport personnel I became twice as concerned.

As the dawning of 2008 came and went without hearing of any more incidents I began to think that either the South African government had done as promised to stop the thefts or that it was indeed mere coincidence that two of my friends had been hit. After all, I have traveled there many times and have never had this experience despite State Department warnings. However, just the other day my neighbor’s sister arrived from South Africa having gone through a similar incident. Anything remotely worthwhile was missing from the suitcase. I immediately inquired as to whether or not she had put TSA locks on and whether they were still locked, to which she replied, “Yes, my dear. The TSA locks were there and still locked. The government has apparently solved the problem. Unfortunately, they cut the bag open due to no longer having the keys.”

As I scratched my head in semi-disbelief, I reminded myself of something every international traveler must tell themselves as they click their heels three times: “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Yes Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore!

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

So last night I was a guest of the Four Seasons group at the Beverly Wilshire. As you already know about me, I am a native of Los Angeles and am not usually into the star sightings, but last night was quite entertaining, even for a jaded native.

The hotel itself is still a beautiful property in a fabulous location off of Rodeo Drive, and the inclusion of the Wolfgang Puck restaurant Cut is a welcome addition. The atmosphere was very upscale L.A. trendy, the food divine, the service impeccable. We all started off with tasty appetizers, fine wine and great conversation, but before the entrees arrived, the fun began.

First, David Gregory walked in. As a very political person, I enjoyed seeing my favorite White House correspondent, but as the night wore on, the non-intrusive flashing of the ever-present paparazzi cameras on the street outside the restaurant gave the impression of a French discotheque in the ’90s, and there was definitely good reason. It was the night of the biggies at Cut, and being the L.A. hotspot it is, it did not let any stargazer down. We thought we were lucky seeing Dave, but then in walked TomKat. Yes, Tom walking in front leading his shy wife Katie, hair covering her face, to a large back corner table. Interesting little couple, but no Suri in sight. Must have been adults’ night out! Not much later, Ben Stiller and his wife joined the Cruises for what ended up being a four-hour soiree, and of course, we all took guesses at the topic of conversation for this irregular foursome; Ben being a funnyman and Tom….well, you know. Alas, the night was not nearly over, as the tabloid subject of the year arrived, new paparazzi boyfriend in tow. Poor Britney, after recently being banned from another local L.A. hotel, she decided the Beverly Wilshire was to be her destination for the night. Not a pretty picture as she was turned away from the restaurant for not having a reservation. See, even celebrities get turned away!

All in all, I must say that meeting Wolfgang and seeing David Gregory were the highlights for this girl. I know it sounds odd, but for those of you that already know me you would say it’s typical. The one thing I would like to mention, though, is how we never felt compromised by their appearances. Often when a star makes an appearance at a restaurant you are left feeling like an insignificant patron, but not at Cut. In fact, when Britney was turned away and we were being greeted by Wolfgang and dining elegantly, we all felt like stars!

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

Location, location, location! Okay, so how many times have you heard that one? But it is the absolute truth. When visiting or doing business in any city, location is all-important; however, you must pair location with quality as well.

I feel the need to let you know about two of my favorite city jewels in two different locations. First off, I must tell you that I can be easy to please, but I can also be fussy. Especially when I am tired! I often have to stay in the city when I am doing business in Los Angeles as I live in the boondocks, and last week I had the pleasure of staying at the Four Seasons Beverly Hills. I wasn’t feeling well, I was tired, and I was cranky, and they seemed to notice that right away despite my best effort to hide it. Sometimes a hotel is a hotel is a hotel, especially after you have been on the road for a while, but that evening they made me feel so relaxed.

First, they got me something to drink when they escorted me to my room. A lovely room, but it was the service that impressed me. I wanted to tip the gentleman, but he refused it! Now, that was amazing to me, in combination with how they had succeeded at making me feel relaxed. Luckily for me, they took away my crankiness in a flash.

My second little jewel is the Triton in San Francisco: a delightfully small boutique hotel that has the distinction of being the only one having rooms designed by the likes of Jerry Garcia, Carlos Santana and Kathy Griffin, to name a few. Talk about fun, but it doesn’t end there. The location is outstanding, just outside the Chinatown gates and steps from Union Square. Oh, and it’s across the street from a Starbucks, which is essential for my sanity and survival.

I had arrived very early, and despite having a full house they had a lovely corner room ready for me within a couple of hours. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the designer suites, but it was a quaint, funky one nonetheless. I had some meetings to attend in the local business district during the day, but after another exhausting day, I had a complementary glass of wine by the warmth of the fireplace in the Triton lobby before heading out to my evening function. Nothing relaxes me more on a chilly winter evening!

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

Las Vegas has always been one of those surreal towns where everything you see is fantasy. In fact, I don’t know of another town quite like it anywhere else and I often marvel at just how many people pass through there every year.

Recently, I attended a conference there and wondered how a city like this has been able to court so many business conferences when it is a man made playground. Does any work ever get done? I wonder. The truth is you can lose yourself so easily in this adult fantasyland if you are not careful.

It is a town where anything can be had for a price and money is rarely an object. However, there is a dark side to Vegas today and one that may actually be surprising to most. I have been coming to this town my entire life at least once a year, most times many more, and I have seen so much change over the years. When I was a kid I remember being escorted to a table front and center at the Hilton fifteen minutes before Elvis was due to take the stage as my father and the maitre d’ patted each other on the back. There was no need for him to buy tickets months or a year in advance at inflated prices. There was an unwritten code of conduct. Now, today we would call it unethical, but let’s look at the positive side of things.

Nowadays, there are shootings all the time, in front of major casinos, and sometimes in them. Crime is rampant. It is no longer as safe as it was to walk the strip at any hour and if you do, you have to wade through the hawkers trying to hand you little cards of phony escort services. Back in the day, none of this would have flown. It was a rough time in the mob days, but it was a safe town also. You never had to worry that you or your family would be involved in a shooting because that element was never tolerated and your loyalty to a casino earned you respect. Today is a different world. Corporate America moved in and the “bottom line” became the only thing that mattered. Now, I am not suggesting that the bottom line is not important, but let’s fact it – a casino will always make money and the house always wins so why treat your guests like a commodity. People are not pork bellies or oil futures.

Of course, I still go to Vegas frequently, but there are times when I really miss the old days when Vegas was for adults and it was who you knew not what you knew. A time when traffic meant an extra five minutes to cover the strip end to end or when Elvis was king and not an actor dressed in a suit marrying two intoxicated lovebirds. Alas, I suppose they have joined the fray and merely traded Uncle Vinny for Uncle Sam.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

I will start off by telling you that I am most definitely a city girl. I love the city, almost any city. The hustle and bustle, sounds, smells and sights are all things I want assaulting my senses. I have the innate need to be able to find life at the oddest hours of the night, and good or bad it makes me feel part of the human race. I have a lot of favorite cities, but even my less preferred ones are still more desirable to me than spending time camping or trekking in vast wastelands where humans are rarely seen. Not that I haven’t done a lot of that, but it just is not my top choice when traveling for pleasure. In fact, one memorable experience many years ago had me in the outback of Australia being offered an item to eat that was still crawling, which, of course, I politely declined.

All this being said, I do recommend getting out of town at least one day if not more during city romps. Although I am not a fan of watching grass grow, which is my impression of what people do in vast wilderness areas, I do enjoy seeing unique parts of nature.

This may seem a little contradictory to you all, but taking short trips out of town to view wildlife or see unique natural or manmade wonders is something very enjoyable. Some of the top sights on my list are Iguaçu Falls in Brazil or Argentina, the Great Wall of China, any safari somewhere in Africa, Stonehenge, Denali Park in Alaska and the list goes on. As you can see, most of these sights are not all that far away from a city. However, I have broken my own rules for a few days at a time to experience these beautiful places.

Last week I was reacquainted with Muir Woods in California and was reminded just how beautiful nature can be. It was remarkable to stand next to these towering redwood trees that average between 400-800 years old and imagine what they could tell us if only they could speak. Now I know this may not seem old in comparison to sights all over the world that have been around for thousands of years, but I must remind you that very little in California is especially old. In fact, we consider anything 100 years old and still standing to be extraordinary.

So, get out of town. Even if you are just on business, take some time to venture out for even a half-day excursion. You won’t be required to watch grass grow or eat still-living creatures, but you will see a different side of life.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

Well, it has been two weeks since I wrote last due to our wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, but I wanted to share a story with you about this delightful little day from a traveler’s perspective.

As a professor of International Business & Business Ethics, I spend quite a bit of time teaching my students about the fine art of understanding other cultures so it is always a thrill for me to be able to share with them situations when people in a foreign land take the time to understand our customs. Especially in these troubled times, it is important that they learn that we are not always viewed negatively abroad. Thanksgiving is a perfect example.

I have taken the opportunity many times to spend the holiday abroad as well as the years when I lived in London. Although Thanksgiving is, of course, a uniquely American holiday, you would be suprised at how other countries and cultures have begun recognizing it on behalf of American visitors. Last year, I spent the holiday in Italy. On Thanksgiving Day, I happened to be in Venice, which I will admit is now on my top ten list of places to visit. Now, I don’t think it is possible to be unhappy in Venice, whether it is a holiday or not, but one always has a twinge of sadness when on foreign shores on a day like this. As I walked the alleys of this most romantic of cities, I knew I could console myself with a delicious plate of pasta, a lobster tail and a glass of fine wine, but, alas, the pang was still there for the smell of my sister’s homemade rolls and pies baking in the oven. Just then, I began noticing that many of the restaurants were offering special “Thanksgiving menus.” When I asked one of the restauranteurs why they were doing this, he simply explained that they were touched that we would spend this very American holiday in Italy rather than around the family table back home. I confess I was also touched.

When I was in Costa Rica on the holiday many years ago, I also found it charming that people everywhere would wish us a “Happy Thanksgiving” the minute they discovered our nationality. When I lived in London my friends and colleagues couldn’t wait for the holiday to roll around to come to my house for the feast. In Hong Kong one year a hotelier was offering Thanksgiving dinner in the restaurant, albeit with a few local delicacies added into the mix; one of the more interesting interpretations I have experienced.

So, never be afraid to take the rare four day holiday to get out of the country and see the world. You might be surprised at how much you learn to love Thanksgiving all over again. Oh, and by the way, this year I ate rolls and pies at my sister’s house, but I was dreaming of pasta and wine….

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

Okay, so it isn’t just airports in the U.S. that are insane. London’s “one bag” through security rule has got to go! Talk about a business disaster. How can a business person traveling abroad possibly contain everything down to one small bag for carry-on? Are we supposed to leave our laptops home? Does this REALLY make us more secure or is it just another kneejerk reaction to create a false sense of security?

Alright, enough about airports! How about more on airlines? American carriers must be kidding! How much more can they torture us in economy? Now, normally I am fortunate enough to fly business, but this time there just wasn’t any room so I toughed it out and flew economy from London to Los Angeles. The food was nauseating and I almost broke a tooth on the frozen sandwich. The 4-inch screen on the back of the seat was at least bigger than my iPod, but a little difficult to see at two inches from my face when the passenger in front of me reclined. Not a big deal, though, as my knees were already in excruciating pain from being jammed past my upper leg and into my hip bone. Watching a movie became less important.

So, I thought, okay, I’ll just try and get a little shut-eye. I can actually sleep standing up if necessary, which is good as I wasn’t far from that position. There was a little 6-year-old cherub sitting next to me and she had been a fairly pleasant little girl with a quick wit. Not exactly what I had expected, but quite enjoyable as it also gave me a bit more room. Luckily, 6-year-olds are still small in the world of airline seats and rarely require use of the common two-inch armrest. Ah, wait a minute! What would really help is an ice cold beer or a cocktail to lure me into dreamland and hopefully keep my neck from freezing in the awkward position I was about to put it in. Alas, they were coming by with the drink trolley! How perfect. WRONG! $5.00 for a beer on an international 11-hour flight? Are they joking? Apparently not! It seems that American carriers started charging for alcohol in economy about two years ago over transatlantic routes – a barbaric practice that has still not happened on ANY international carrier. It was the one thing I could look forward to on a miserable torturous experience.

So, the moral to the story is – I will have to fly through or from London over and over again and I will complain every time until they change that ridiculous rule. However, I will NOT be flying any American carrier on a transatlantic route unless I absolutely must–and until I calm down, I won’t even do it in Business or First.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

I have been coming to South Africa regularly for over fifteen years now, but have been coming here in my dreams since childhood. As American children, we hear bedtime stories of elephants and lions, giraffes and zebra and are told that somewhere far off in the world there is a real place where they live. As adults we discover that it is a troubled place and always has been, but then in today’s world, what place isn’t? You see, there is heartache and beauty around every corner.

Africa is a continent that bewilders most, but if you look deeper than today’s headline news you will see a land that has weathered the centuries like a grand lady. In one of the native languages the “magogo” comes to mind. Grandma or grand old lady, and that is what she is; the cradle of humankind.

In South Africa there are too many places to experience to name in this short blog, but if you ever get the chance to come here (and I highly suggest you do) get out of the city and head for anywhere. Just a short drive from Johannesburg or Pretoria is a little jewel called Sun City. It is a resort town bordering on Pilanesberg National Park. You can choose to stay in accommodations from two to five star in this beautiful little man made resort enclave nestled in the countryside and wile away the hours by the pool, take in a little gambling, eat at wonderful restaurants or even play golf at a Gary Player course. One of the best parts, however, is the location. Being right next to the national park you can take a game drive or even drive your own vehicle in. Either way it is something you really must do. You will most likely see all of the fantastic creatures you fell asleep to hearing about in those storybooks as a child, and believe me, it never gets old.

Wherever you choose to go to in this part of the world, you will experience a lot coming at your senses. The sounds, smells and tastes of Africa. Storybooks or television shows do not do it justice, but remember you will have to leave your preconceived notions at the border. Things are not done in your time frame; they are done on African time. In fact, they have a saying here when things get a little tough: “Welcome to Africa!” So relax, accept life as it is here. Meet the people, see the countryside, visit the far-off land of your childhood dreams. Unfortunately, I have to go now, but I will back again soon and I hope to see more of my Americans here someday. But, in the meantime, do me a small favor: when you get here, please send “Magogo” my love.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

This week I am on the road; well so to speak. I flew to Johannesburg, South Africa Monday night out of Los Angeles International Airport, and I’ve taken this route through London many times. In fact, sometimes 2-3 times a year. Now, I must tell you that I have traveled around the world much like most of you reading this, but I have never had quite an experience as I did this week.

When they asked us to start arriving 3 hours prior to departure for international flights after 9/11, I completely understood. I didn’t like it, but I understood. When they asked us to start taking off our shoes, I was annoyed, but I understood. When they asked us to leave our liquids at home or in our checked baggage I groaned, but once again, I forced myself to understand. We are a society afraid of everything and sure of nothing. Up until now, I have understood, but something seems to have snapped somewhere and I am wondering how much more we can take before we as travelers begin to snap ourselves.

First of all, it took an hour and a half to check in with the airline, but to their credit they did a fantastic job trying to sort through a full flight. So far, so good, but then of course comes the security line. I always have my laptop easily accessible and I only wear slip-on shoes for convenience, but this time none of that mattered. At Terminal 2, the security line was out the door and down the street. Okay, three international flights leaving at the same time from a terminal not built to handle the traffic; I get it. What I don’t understand is stupidity! Three international flights leaving at the same time and THREE open security lanes out of six available. TWO airport personnel checking passports and boarding passes at the end of the line, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Where is the sanity? We all realize that the fun has been taken out of travel, or at least the journey. Granny subjected to frisking, buying new toiletries in every city, barefoot on cold, dirty floors and more all in the name of national security, but what is next? Four hour check-in times, five hours? Missed flights and fist fights, planes departing half empty but full of baggage? You might think this sounds ridiculous, but if things don’t change soon that is exactly where we are headed.

I must, however, commend the three professionals from Virgin Atlantic

that took charge of the situation on their own and made sure all of their passengers were brought to the front of the line and ushered through despite the crowd growing increasingly more threatening.

Will I go through this again? Probably, because I have to, like most of us, but it is my sincere hope that some sanity begins to prevail or we will be destined for disaster.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine

I come to you from a hard hit Southern California. Yes, this is where I live and have been all my life. I live in the canyons in an idyllic world. This week we have been devastated by fires and it happens to us every year this time. You may wonder why this blog is on a travel magazine site, but I want to tell you something about my state that not everyone knows.

Yes, we have earthquakes, mudslides and fires. Every year this time we hold our breath as the famous Santa Ana devil winds come through. A client asked me the other day why we keep rebuilding and moving back and I have a simple answer. After all is said and done, we love this place and feel so lucky to have it. People all over the world dream of coming here to visit or live; they dream of Hollywood, Malibu, San Diego and everything that comes with it.

Yes, we’re a bit quirky when the lights are shining on us, but we’re also real people. I would love to tell you all of the stories about how the people of Southern California stand side by side and help one another during times of need, but there just simply isn’t enough room here. I will, however, tell you two small stories. One is about a good friend of mine that was evacuated and had nowhere to go with her five dogs. A complete stranger found on the Internet handed her and her mother the keys to his motor home and told her to feel free to move it if she wanted to. He had never even asked for her last name, much less identification. He just knew he had to help. The next one is about the brand new Radisson Rancho Bernardo. A friend of mine from Sony told me about how the hotel, due to have already opened, kept closed to house any employees from Sony Electronics in Rancho Bernardo that had been evacuated or even just wanted to store cars. So, you see, we are no different than Kentucky, Mississippi or New York on 9-11. You probably don’t see us as anything more than a giant movie set, but we’re no different. Houses lost are homes, memories and so much more.

I also want to take the time to thank firefighters from all over the western US for rushing to our aid. You will never know how much we wish we could repay you for your brave and selfless work.

My hope now is that you all come and visit us sometime and help us rebuild our beautiful place. Come here on vacation. Hang out on Hollywood Boulevard, or the beaches in Malibu and San Diego. Go to Disneyland, Sea World, Magic Mountain. We may be a little down right now, but I promise we’ll show you a great time.

Reprinted from my blog at a national travel magazine