Jesus. Kangaroos. Fighter jets. All on the same trip. Think it’s impossible? You haven’t been to Israel.
When I think of historical travel opportunities in Canada, images of frocked women churning butter at Black Creek Pioneer Village come to mind. Send me to Europe and I might be able to revert back two millennia occasionally, like on the ancient cobblestone streets near Rome’s Colosseum. But I can’t help but be constantly in awe of Israel, where 2,000-year-old structures appear around every corner, marking a mere footnote roughly half-way along the timeline of the country’s preserved human civilization.
So, with this in mind, I boldly shoe-horned my wife and two children (ages seven and five) into economy-class seats at the back of a Lufthansa 767 on route to Tel-Aviv via Frankfurt. Israel is a tiny country packed with endless tourism possibilities. For example, you could stroll from Ashdod in the south to Rosh Hanikra in the north, lazing away weeks on world-class beaches — but you would miss out on an incredible array of unique sights and activities. Planning for the weather is also crucial, particularly when travelling during the hot and dry summer season. The lowest daily high temperature we experienced was 36C (not factoring in the humidex). In addition, advance reservations are necessary for many of the country’s best activities — especially if you require an English-speaking guide. For all these reasons, our itinerary was planned far in advance.
Cheeky scale models, fearless kangaroos, rafting down the River Jordan and more...after the jump.
Whenever I suggest to The Crime Traveller’s Wife that we spend a week at a cottage, her face scrunches up in thinly veiled derision. Mosquitos. Outhouses. Well water. These are the thoughts that dance through her head as I wax poetic about clean country air and getting back to nature.
It was therefore a stroke of marital brilliance when I gleefully reported that I had been invited to bring the family up north to Red Leaves in Muskoka as a guest of The Rosseau. As the first of Marriott’s luxury JW brand in Canada, The Rosseau is what would happen to cottage country if it were designed by Shane Baghai, decorated by Martha Stewart and financed by Donald Trump. Leah Leslie, Director of Sales and Marketing for the resort calls this philosophy “nature, on your terms.”
My terms indeed.
As I pulled the minivan up the dramatic circular driveway to the valet I passed a small fleet of Toyota Camrys decked out in diplomatic plates. My visit took place less than 24 hours before Muskoka played host to the G8 and The Rosseau was home base for the Russian delegation. With over two hundred guest rooms, and a fully functional conference centre, The Rosseau is accustomed to meeting the demands of dignitaries and directors alike. Keeping one eye open for PM Putin, I rode the plush elevator to the third floor and opened the door to my one-bedroom suite.
What lies in store for our Crime Traveller on Lake Rosseau? Find out, after the jump.
I’m bobbing in a crystal clear pool of water, clad entirely in a form-fitting neoprene suit studded with gadgets and equipment and staring at a cave ceiling carpeted by tens of thousands of bats. This is what Batman must feel like — and it feels awesome!
The Crime Traveller’s Wife and I travelled to Mexico’s Mayan Riviera to see what all the vacation fuss was about. For several years now, this region has experienced an explosive growth in tourism with travellers from all the over the world pouring in to enjoy its smooth white sand and frothing green water. We had already done the obligatory beach day and enjoyed a day-long tour of the vast Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza earlier in the week, and now I was feeling antsy just as my wife settled into her lounge chair. I had seen the look she gave me at that moment on many prior vacations: Don’t even bother asking me to pass you a towel — I will be reading this book until precisely two hours before our plane leaves. If you’re planning any other “activities,” you’re on your own. And so, my thoughts drifted to scuba diving.
While I have had increasing success convincing The Crime Traveller’s Wife to join me on bush planes, mountain hikes or zodiac boats, scuba diving is her Rubicon. Her logic is inescapable. Dizziness? Check. Claustrophobia? Check. Diabetes? Check. Nausea? Check. Check. Check. When you can put check-marks next to more than half of the medical questionnaire, you probably should just admit to yourself that the activity in question may not be for you.
And so it was that I approached the genial fellow at the ocean-side dive-shack alone. He looked up from hosing down a pair of fins and gave me a once-over as I presented my PADI certification card. I told him I was interested in a half-day dive and would like to know what he recommended. He rattled off a list of suggestions, including diving with turtles and swimming with angel fish. Then he took on a reverent tone and lowered his voice dramatically: “Or you can dive the Cenotes.” He laid a cracked and weathered photo album down onto the sand-strewn counter and invited me to leaf through its curled pages. The pictures showed lines of divers navigating the clearest water I had ever seen, against a backdrop of stalactites and stalagmites as rays of sunlight pierced through jagged cracks in a cave wall. He had me at “stalactite.”
After the jump: Descending into caverns and discovering bat caves with our Crime Traveller.
After a months-long hiatus from the game, golf’s favourite son has returned to the links with renewed vigour, seeking to dispel his winter demons.
Thus I, The Crime Traveller, will now set out to introduce you, faithful reader, to some of my preferred courses across Southern Ontario. (What? You thought I was talking about Tiger Woods?)
Golf and travel go together like peanut butter and chocolate, but for this month’s column I am making a number of assumptions to maximize the value of my golf advice. First, keep in mind that my golf handicap is so crippling that I may soon be eligible for Ontario Disability payments. The courses I have selected can provide a fair challenge to the seasoned golfer and the novice duffer alike, provided you are prepared to swallow some machismo and hit from the tees most appropriate to your ability.
Second, time and financial restraints dictate that most people enjoy their summer golf rounds within an easy drive of their home or work. A large percentage of Precedent readers are based somewhere within Southern Ontario, and this reality has influenced my course recommendations. Finally, if you’re a member of a private golf club, you’re probably not out looking for new course suggestions. Therefore, the focus of this column will be on four high-end public courses within an easy drive of Toronto where you can enjoy an outstanding round of golf with or without clients rounding out your foursome.
Prices quoted in parentheses are peak rates at primetime. Many clubs offer substantial discounts, so don’t be afraid to call their respective pro shops and hunt for a deal.
After the jump: Highlights and tips for a foursome of great local courses.
The time has come for The Crime Traveller to reward my faithful readership with a sneak peak at the ultimate hidden travel gem. Imagine an African safari. Guaranteed sightings of Africa’s “Big Five” game animals (lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo and rhino). Comfortable tented camps with nearby flush toilets and running water. Fully staffed tour with experienced guides. No airfare. Cost for one night’s accommodations: $100 per person.
Or $90 if you’re a member of the Toronto Zoo.
Africa has long sat at the top of my extensive travel to-do list, but as someone whose income is based at least partially on Legal Aid’s budget, I have yet to scrounge together the mega dollars required to properly traverse the Sahara. Last year, to satiate my safari cravings, my six-year old daughter and I enrolled in the Toronto Zoo’s Serengeti Bush Camp. I encourage fellow travellers to give this innovative program a try; the 2010 Bush Camp season kicks off in May.
Our suburban safari began when we pulled up to the Toronto Zoo’s administration building at 4:00pm. My daughter and I stowed our luggage and sleeping bags at the rear of the zoomobile (the trolley that winds throughout the zoo grounds), along with the eight other families who'd be camping with us. Our adventure began with a quick tour of the zoo’s back lot — an area rarely viewed by the average member of the public. We passed the massive building where thousands of custom meals are prepared daily for the hundreds of different species of animals that roam the zoo’s 710 acres before zipping past the infirmary where animals receive specialized care when not on exhibit.
After the jump: encounters with lions, cheetahs and a newborn gorilla.
I’m bobbing in a crystal clear pool of water, clad entirely in a form-fitting neoprene suit studded with gadgets and equipment and staring at a cave ceiling carpeted by tens of thousands of bats. This is what Batman must feel like — and it feels awesome!
After a months-long hiatus from the game, golf’s favourite son has returned to the links with renewed vigour, seeking to dispel his winter demons.
