Sawubona from the highest pub in Africa

Another #TravelTuesday tale from Norv Leong, our wayward product marketing lad at Actiance.  No ostriches were harmed while living the blog, although some did end up on my plate as a normal part of life in South Africa.

Seems as if I’ve been banished to the far reaches of the earth that I can’t seem to find an Internet connection anywhere.  I’m back in South Africa, having spent the last 10 days in Lesotho.  It’s a tiny-ass country, the size of Belgium.  Lesotho is completely landlocked within the South African borders, yet it has a totally different feel than South Africa.  Lesotho attire is all about blankets, Fat Albert hats (you old skoo folks know what I’m talkin bout), and wading boots.

I guess I should recap what kinds of shenanigans I’ve been up to since my last turkey update.  I got into Cape Town about a month ago.  It’s a city that’s very reminiscent of San Francisco, my hometown.  Their coastline is similar to what you’d see along Highway 1.  They’ve got a prison on an island (where Mandela was holed up), they’ve got wineries nearby, some hills, seals all over the place, and even Vietnamese and Korean restaurants.

I ended up spending a week in Cape Town, getting hammered on a winelands tour, biking down toward Cape Point (the southernmost tip of Africa), takin a tour of Robben Island (their Alcatraz), and basically hanging out.

It’s easy to get sucked into a loungin lifestyle in Cape Town, so I forced myself to hop on a bus and start makin my way around the country, but not before getting another Hep B shot and some malaria pills.  Traveling along the Garden Route, the first place I stopped at was a place called Oudtshoorn, which is famous for their ostrich industry.  I chowed on some ostrich steak and sausage and managed to find it palatable.   I even rode on an ostrich for about 15 seconds before I ate shite.  Dem birds are actually really tall (bout 7 feet tall) and go pretty fast (they can do 60 km/hour).

From Oudtshoorn, I cruised to Plettenberg Bay, which has beautiful beaches and is known for their whale and dolphin watchin.  I took one of those tours and, sure enough, saw lots of dolphins and seals but, alas, no whales.

Since my time is so “limited,” I knew I couldn’t see everything I wanted to in South Africa so I skipped some places that are definitely worth checking out, like Stormsriver and the Tsitsikamma Trail.  Yearning for a taste of true Africa, I ventured into the Transkei region, which is where Mandela is from.  This is the blackest part of South Africa.  It’s also known as the Wild Coast.

Poor me. Had to hike with these views for 5 days.

It’s also the most beautiful part of the country.  I did a 5-day hike on the Wild Coast Hiking Trail from Port St. Johns to Coffee Bay.  The hike was simply amazing.  Totally deserted, unspoilt beaches, authentic villages all along the way, and scenery reminiscent of Big Sur and the California coast the whole 65km.  We stayed in huts that had only bunk beds (no bedding or pillows), no electricity, and no running water.  We didn’t pass one single tourist while on the trail.  Needless to say, I was one foul-smellin boy by the end of the trip.

From Coffee Bay, I decided to head to the mountains.  I went to a place in the southern Drakensberg mountain range toward the Lesotho border.  To get into Lesotho from this part of South Africa, you have to enter via this very hairy mountain pass.  They won’t even let you try the pass unless you have a 4WD vehicle.  Since I didn’t have a rental car, I relied on my thumb, to get into Lesotho.  I ended up catching two different rides to make it into Lesotho, the first with a nice South African couple on vacation and the second on this huge Lesotho produce truck (thankfully no produce was in the back) that barely made it up the pass.  The views of the switchbacks, valleys, and gorges from the top were awesome.

Cold beer awaits at the top

We stayed at the top of the pass at a place called Sani Top Chalet, which also had no electricity.  They like to advertise their pub in the chalet as the “highest pub in Africa.”  I also froze my dingleberries off here since, once the fire dies out, it feels like you’re sleepin in a freezer.  I even broke down and bought a fleece (yes, I actually spent money for clothes rather than rely on computer trade shows).

Once in Lesotho (btw, pronounced “le-soo-too”), it was all about kickin and hikin.  The country is basically one huge hiking trail.  There are mountains everywhere and the country is actually known as the “Mountain Kingdom in the Sky.”  It also has the highest low point in the world (if that makes sense).  The mountain passes and scenery in eastern Lesotho were particularly striking.  Tourists are almost non-existent, but I did meet a ton of Peace Corps people out here.  Evidently, the Peace Corps presence in Lesotho is huge.

I stayed 3 days in a tiny-ass village called Moludong (moo-doo-mong).  No electricity, but awesome hot showers.  Very peaceful and relaxing here.  The villages were great, ice cold beers could be had, and everyone was real friendly.  I did get a lil tired though of eating spam-type meat or soya meat.  Fresh veggies, fruit, and real meat were non-existent in Lesotho so I basically survived on rice, pasta, and canned meat.  I am really hurtin for some pho now.

From Molumong, I checked out a place recommended to me by a Peace Corps volunteer, a village called Liphofung (dee-po-fung).  They’re known for their rock cave paintings, but I thought they sorta sucked.  The location of the place, however, was beautiful.  Nestled in a valley with mountains all around, the setting was very picturesque.  There happened to be a Peace Corps worker here, too.  A real piece of work, she was from Humboldt County, so you can pretty much guess what her interests were.  Herbal remedy for those who need a hint.

After minibus hell (they don’t leave in Lesotho til they’re packed to the gills), I arrived in a place called Malealea, which is known for their pony trekking.  Shockingly, there were tons of tourists here.  Apparently, if there is only one place to go in Lesotho, people come here.  Huge busloads of German and Dutch tourists were here, as well as some Americans (including my first sighting of Asian-Americans since I’ve been traveling)…. in Lesotho of all places.  Go figure.

The pony trekking was ok until I got rained on.  Shweeeet.  Mix wet clothes with that of pony and you’ve got a tasty concoction.  On top of that, I ended up gettin the most stubborn of the ponies.  I happened to draw the pony that always veered off the trail, liked to stop and eat every 100m, whinnied every 150m, and never responded to any of my commands.  Meanwhile, all the other ponies were good lil beasts.  Always lookin for a bright side, we saw some great scenery and my arse didn’t hurt as badly as I expected afterwards.

From Malealea, I cruised to a place called Semonkong, once again on minibus and big bus hell.   Semonkong, I have to say, was much nicer than Malealea, despite the latter gettin more of the publicity.  Semonkong was in a much nicer setting (by the river with mountains all around) and the accommodations were much quainter (I stayed in a traditional hut with really comfy beds and comforters).  Also, the waterfall near Semonkong blew away the one in Malealea.  In hindsight, I shoulda done my pony trek in Semonkong, but, oh well.

While in Semonkong, I bumped into a Chinese-owned store.  I expected to see my homeys in Maseru, the capital, but I didn’t expect it in tiny-ass Semonkong.  But, there I was pullin out my kindergarten-level Mandarin to talk with this guy.  It’s a big-time trip to see my homeys speaking Sesotho (that’s the language people from Lesotho speak).  Also met a cool lady from Idaho who happened to have a 4WD rental truck and she was headed in the general direction I was going.

So, I cruised with her thru the hinterlands of Lesotho, basically doing some 4×4 wheelin, on back-country roads.  Pretty fun with fantastic scenery and great villages everywhere you go.  Every time we saw a white flag flyin (it signifies that a batch of fresh moonshine had been brewed), we stopped and searched for this elusive beer.  But, alas, most places were out of beer — they’re just too damn lazy to take the flag down when they’re out of beer.  I can respect that laziness.

The next morning Idaho drove me as far as she was willin to take me, then I had to rely on my thumb again.  This time, I successfully got a ride exactly to where I needed to go…which is where i am now (the northern Drakensberg).

I’m at a very cool hostel with excellent food and friendly dogs roaming around.  I did a nice hike today to see a mountain range with sheer rock faces.  I even did a Karate Kid pose on one of the ledges.  Yet another example of my idiocy.

Well, my fingers are tired and I need a cold bevvie now.  I’m off to Jo’burg (murder capital of the world) on Thursday where I’m catchin a bus to another tiny-ass country, Swaziland.

Hope y’allz have a great Thanksgiving and save me some turkey and stick it in a freezer.  I swear I’ll eat it next year.

Salang hantle,
N

Lessons From a First Time Flyer

Today’s post comes from Victor Gaxiola, Social Media Subject Matter Expert at Actiance.

I’ve been flying my whole life and cannot recall my first experience of boarding or traveling on an airplane.  From a young age,  I’ve always been a fan of air travel preferring the window seat over an aisle to look out the window and experience the ride.  Hell, I even spent nearly 10 years working for United Airlines because I loved airplanes.

As a frequent flier, I’ve had some good flights and some bad flights and it’s only during times of weather or major turbulence that I’m reminded how amazing it is that we have harnessed the skies.  Today a person can have breakfast in New York, lunch in Denver and dinner in Los Angeles, all in a single day.  Every day 747s cross the Pacific Ocean bridging Asia and North America and all points in between.  What used to take months, takes hours today and air travel has become so commonplace that we rarely give it a second thought.  That is unless something goes wrong, or it’s your first time flying.  Last year on a short flight from Salt Lake City to San Jose I re-experienced the wonder of air travel with a first time flyer.

Sitting in the window seat of an 737 I knew the ride home was going to be interesting when the person sitting behind me announced to those sitting in her row next to her that it was her first time flying and that she may have some questions as she was feeling quite nervous.   The girl was about 20 years old, and we were all silently shocked that at her age this would be her first flight.  The kind woman in the middle seat next to her said she had nothing to worry about and reminded our first time flyer that air travel  continues to be the safest form of transportation.  As reassuring as that thought is, and I remind myself of this fact each time I fly, it’s the lack of control that makes this harder to digest.  We all assume that the pilots in the front know what they are doing and that they’ll get us safely from point A to point B.  Our experience without incident continues to add to our reassurance and given the number of flights that take off and land each day, it is a miracle that the incident count is so low.  Back to the story.

As the plane pushed back, the first time flyer began her series of questions, asking her seat mate what we can expect to feel once the plane takes off.   The lady, a saint in my opinion, explained that the plane would taxi to the runway, accelerate, and at the right time pull up into flight.  The plane would continue its ascent until reaching a safe cruising altitude where it would remain until it was time to land.   Satisfied with this explanation, she sat motionless asking if she should keep the window shade open or closed?   The middle seat woman said she prefers it open to see what is going on.

The plane taxied to the runway as expected and revved up its engines.  Before long we were gaining speed, picking up momentum and the plane began to fly into the wild blue yonder.  The girl behind me started to freak out!

“Oh my god!  Oh my god! Oh my god!”  She kept saying with a few shrieks thrown in between.

Meanwhile the woman in the middle seat consoled her telling her it would be OK.

As soon as the plane went into the air the girl exclaimed “WE ARE FLYING!”   She was amazed.  Her amazement was quickly followed by fear when there was a loud sound below our feet.  Without missing a beat, the woman in the middle said “landing gear” sharing that the landing gear was being brought in and there was nothing to be afraid of.

With each bump, there was a small shriek from her and an short explanation from her seat mate.  Once we leveled off, the girl behind me apologized for her behavior, a little embarrassed with the shrieks and minor freak out at take off.  EVERYONE was very understanding and reassuring her not to worry- we had all been first time flyers at one time too.   The fact that so many had flown before and were freely providing support made her feel a little silly for her behavior.   For me, it was very heartening to see a community of travelers come together for the aid of one.

The flight, like most,was uneventful and she actually enjoyed looking out the window, especially as we flew over the snowy Sierra Nevada mountains and Lake Tahoe.   As we approached San Jose, the woman in the middle began to prep our nervous flyer explaining each step of the descent, including the flaps on the wings, the return of the landing gear, and the bump on impact as the landing gear hit ground. It was amazing how calm and reassuring she was and the girl closely listened, asking a few questions along the way.  As a result the remainder of the flight was a series of validating what the woman in the middle had shared and before long we were on the ground again, safe and sound at the gate.

The poor girl had been through a life changing ordeal and although she was traveling alone, she was not alone.  As we deplaned I turned to congratulate her on her first flight and shared that it gets easier with each flight.  She thanked me, but was in no hurry to relive the experience anytime soon. In the end, I think she kept it together quite well.

Witnessing the fears of a first time flyer was quite an experience, especially since all those elements that were terrifying her have become so second nature for those of us who travel regularly.   It  also brought to light the importance and value of having someone with experience guide you and provide you with the reassurance one needs when faced with uncertainty.  There are a number of lessons here, and I walked away with a renewed sense of wonder and desire to approach each new task with the same level of curiosity and to seek out the experience of others to make the journey more manageable.

How do you approach new experiences, and what can we learn from those that take the plunge?

When in Doubt- Say 17%

Today’s post comes from Victor Gaxiola, Social Media Subject Matter Expert at Actiance.

For this #TravelTuesday, I thought I’d provide some color from the other side of the counter.

Fresh out of college and ready to take on the world, I spent the early part of my career working for United Airlines in San Francisco.  I went on to work for United for nearly 10 years in various positions and to this day consider it my graduate school of management.

The time at United provided me the opportunity to travel, live in different cities, and work with people from all corners of the world.  It also provided me with plenty of stories, enough to fill books.  The one I’d like to share with you today, was one of my favorites from my time working as a gate agent in San Francisco.  I was reminded of the story last week when I was asked a question, and found I had no other answer to give but- 17%.  Bear with me, it will make sense in a second.

It was a Friday night and SFO (airport code) was abuzz with travelers and activity.  Having earned my stripes working the lobby check-in counters and passenger ticketing, I had finally arrived at the highly coveted gate agent position.  That night I was assigned to work a gate exclusively used for Shuttle by United.  You may recall that Shuttle by United was United’s attempt to compete with Southwest Airlines by offering low cost flights to short range destinations and milking as many departures as possible using a single aircraft.  Our goal was to turn a full 737 in less than 23 minutes.  That meant from the time the door opened on the arriving flight, we had to unload and re-board a new full flight and close the door within 23 minutes.  (Yes 23!  By the way my record was 18- Boom!)

As a result of the tight turn time, Shuttle by United gate agents were known to be quick thinkers and at times curt if pushed to the limits of customer service.  I thrived in this environment and was challenged with each flight.  The tension would begin when you opened the door of an arriving aircraft and built up as you got closer to departure time.  The closing of the door provided a temporary release from the stress before the process began anew with the next flight.  On a good day, our crew would turn 7 to 8 flights in an eight hour shift, making this the most stressful and fun job I have ever had.  Since I was young and needed the money, I’d often work double shifts because the adrenalin was addicting.

Friday nights were our busiest night with commuter and weekend traffic flying between northern and southern California airports.  Weather was our biggest enemy especially in the summer months when the fog would roll down the San Bruno mountains and cover the runway like a blanket.   Our nerves and patience were constantly tested and although most people were understanding and kind, not everyone was as sympathetic.

On this Friday night, I was working a flight to Los Angeles with my colleague Mitch (not his real name).  Both of us had been working all day and only had a few more flights to go before calling it a day.  The flight to Los Angeles was on-time, and as we waited for the arrival of the inbound aircraft that would turn around and go back to Los Angeles we managed our gate.  We made announcements, made seat changes, answered questions and added frequent fliers to the upgrade list.

While we were in the gate podium a  business man (we’ll call him Carl) approached our gate and asked if he could be added to the upgrade list.  This was not an uncommon request, however since Shuttle by United only offered 8 seats in First Class the probability of securing a first class seat on a Friday night was rare.  Just the same we added him to the list and informed him that we would not be able to confirm a first class seat until we got closer to departure.  He asked us “how’s it look?”  To which we replied, that it was hard to tell because we were still too far away from departure and the lobby was still checking in passengers for the flight, including those who had booked first class seats on paid tickets.  With that, he left the gate podium and we continued with our work.

About 10 minutes later, Carl returned and asked us “How’s it looking now?”  Knowing that little had changed in the last 10 minutes we checked by looking at the screen and informed him that a few more people had checked in from the lobby and repeated that we’d know more as we got closer to departure.  After he left Mitch asked me under his breath “new Premier?”   To which I confirmed he was.

At that time United’s frequent flier program categorized its frequent fliers into 4 distinct levels: Regular, Premiers, Executive Premiers, and 1Ks.   We all knew that Premier members were the worst- especially new ones.   Having arrived at this new level, Premier members felt a new sense of entitlement and would relish in their new status expecting all airline personnel to treat them like royalty- a privilege we only offered to our 1K travelers.  We worshiped our 1Ks -frequent fliers that would fly more than 100,000 miles a year on us.  This group lived on our airplanes and although they only represented 4% of our passenger base, they provided us the largest share of revenue.   These people knew our airline better than we did and with experience, any gate agent could easily distinguish on sight a 1K from a new Premier member.  Carl was an easy mark and no one would break a sweat guessing his status.

About 5 minutes later, guess who came back? Carl.  Like a broken record he again asked “How’s it looking now?”  We humored him by checking and advised him that some variables had changed, but that we still didn’t know.   We used this opportunity to school him on the airline check in process.   We told him that fortunately the lobby was no longer able to check in new passengers and that control from the flight had now been taken by the gate (us).   We shared that we were busy checking on any inbound connections, that is passengers that are checked in to the flight to Los Angeles that may be coming in from other flights.  If any of those passengers are late, and unable to make it on the flight to Los Angeles, we’d rebook them for a later flight making their seats available for passengers wishing to travel on our flight.  We shared that it was a busy flight, with multiple variables controlling the flow of passengers and that if he was patient we’d let him know in a few more minutes as the inbound flight was due to arrive shortly.  Carl left more informed on our process than he cared, unhappy that he was not yet upgraded, and hopefully with a deeper understanding of the pressure we were under.

So impressed that 3 minutes later he came back.   This time he was a little more excited.  He needed to know!  Will he get upgraded?  Will he get to fly in first class on the 1 hour flight to Los Angeles?  We explained ONCE AGAIN that we had already shared ALL the variables keeping us from being able to declare with any certainty that he would get an upgrade.  It was still too soon to tell and by our tone we hope he’d understand,  like any other living human, that we were nearing our breaking point.

Not Carl, he continued, a minute short of us calling security…

“I just need to know, can you give me a number? What is the probability?!”

Without missing a beat, and with a voice of unquestionable authority Mitch said in a very loud voice – “17%!!!”

Carl finally got the message and never came back to the podium again.  In the end, he didn’t get upgraded as the flight was filled up with 1Ks in the front of the cabin- all of which had patiently waited watching this circus play out.

There are few certainties in life, but if I can impart any knowledge to you frequent fliers out there, know this.  Gate agents are the most powerful ground personnel at any airline and can make a big difference on the kind of travel experience you will have.  Never, I repeat never, get them upset.  I’ve got other stories I could share, but will save them for another Travel Tuesday. Till then, happy trails!

Without mobile where would you be?

I’m on a train as I write this. From Montreal to Quebec and @via_rail is taking the strain as I head north. At the same time, my mum and I are messaging each other in real time on Facebook, I’m iMessaging a colleague, tweeting and also checking my email.

Every now and then I stop and think how much technology has adapted to,our mobile life and how lost we’d be without it. Certainly the lithium Batteries might be awning all lithium battery devic on planes, following a series of fires, caused a moments thought. I can’t take my cell phone or my laptop with me?? Wow, the providers of collaboration platforms will be rubbing their hands in glee if this one spreads. I can’t imagine that. I can’t even check my laptop or cell phone… That’s going one further than the travel restrictions after 911.

Mobile access to technology that we see for both our personal, and our professional lives has become ubiquitous. Who, for example watched, hero Felix Bumgartner’s Space Jump historic jump from space? My sister in law was visiting at the time. We don’t have a TV here in the USA, so we were watching on the Internet, from laptops. Until we decided that we needed to get a move on and head out – we wanted to catch the tide as we were planning an afternoon sailing in the bay.

No problem. As my husband drove, I watched the proceedings on my iPhone and the relies watched in the back seat of the car on the iPad as we drove to the marina.

There’s also news today that Bank of America is adding 10,000 mobile users a day. Wow. Time and money stand still for no one!!

Today happens to be a vacation for me, but my use of mobile continues, as the applications, the tools that I use in my professional and personal life morph into one, the devices that I carry for the business meetings I’ll be at later in the week, become my communications tools for catching up with the family, for checking out the hotel in Quebec and planning where I might eat a late lunch, or sharing the photos’s from the train and comparing my experiences with Via Rail and Amtrak (Amtrak increased my Klout by using my Amtrak from the California Zephyr on their Facebook page!!).

What would I miss the most if I didn’t have mobile? I think I’d miss the “share” – and that’s not just me sharing, it’s others sharing too.. I’d not see the updates from fellow travelers, or be getting real time suggestions as to what to see and do.

What about you? What would you miss the most if your mobile access was curtailed?

Lunch is for wimps. A thigh trembling tale on #TravelTuesday

Welcome to #TravelTuesday.  The Team here at Actiance are a well traveled lot, whether it’s our regular trips to conferences, our offices around the world, customers or partners, or simply our latest vacations.  We’re increasingly using social to expand our travel horizons, meet new people and share our experiences.   Seeing as we can’t invite y’all around for a slide show in front of the TV, we’ll take you on a virtual trip every week on our #TravelTuesdays.

Our first trip on #TravelTuesday comes from Sarah Carter, and she recounts the exploits of the Cheapskis team way back in the mists of time, in the “chunnel”, on the autoroutes of France and into the Alps.

Once upon a time, there were a team of friends, family and colleagues, who discovered a mutual liking for adventure, skiing, snowboarding and driving.  Luckily this collective weren’t real fans of much sleep, they didn’t have a huge amount of disposable income, but did have a great desire to spend time in the mountains.  Sadly they lived in the south of England, not a location known for it’s mountains or even hills that you can ski on.

Our plan was simple.  We’d leave from the office on Thursday evening.  Get the 10 or 12 of us into 3 cars and drive for the Channel.  Hop on the Chunnel, for a quick 22 mile trip to France and then, arriving on the Northern Coast of France, find an autoroute south and, well, drive.   And drive we did.  For round about 12 hours.  Swapping drivers, navigators, lead cars and catching a few zzz’s in between times.   Our plan was to end up in the mountains in time for breakfast and first tracks.  From there on in, the plan was to ski all day, party all night through until Sunday after skiing, when we’d hit the autoroutes again, and the Channel tunnel, arriving just in time for the working day on Monday morning.

Now over the years, there were several Cheapski trips.  The first, to Villars in Switzerland, where the highlights were the ski equivalent of a route march across linked resorts, that involved skiing across roads, taking a bus and ending up at the top of the Les Diablerets glacier in a snow storm, teaching a couple of the newbies that wiping out in about 4 foot of power was actually pretty fun and didn’t hurt.  The lowlights:  Well lets say we learned that we had passed the Youth Hostelling phase of our travel lives.  There was a memorable trips to Les Deux Alpes, where the brightness of Andreas’s jacket still burns my retina’s and I think I can probably still taste the garlic from the home made garlic bread that Steve was responsible for.    There was a trip too, to Italy, where we skied between Zermatt and Cervinia and enjoyed the glorious mountain restaurants, and a 15 mile top to bottom run down to Valtournenche.  One of my favorites though, was Les Trois Vallees, the Three Valleys in France.

It was an upgrade for us, we rented a chalet apartment near the ski lifts.  A wonderful place, close to the slopes, to bars and restaurants, with a great kitchen lots of space for us all  – the group dynamics changed over the years, the cars got newer, the drivers older, the right feet heavier, but the premise remained the same. From Thursday night, drive, ski, party, repeat until Sunday night and arrive at work on Monday with weary bodies, great stories and planning the next trip.

Our group always had different levels of skiers and boarders, there was usually a beginner here and there, and those who were more adventurous,  so we usually split up during the day, meeting perhaps for lunch or at least for beers at the end of the day, when we generally cooked group meals, to save on the costs of the long weekend, of course then blowing our savings by apres skiing in a local bar until the wee small hours.

The adventurers on the The Three Valleys trip had a mission.  We planned to ski all three Valley’s – Courchevel, Meribel and Val Thorens in a single day.  We’d start in Val Thorens, where our chalet was, head up the mountain, connect through to Meribel, head up the mountain and down the other side, aiming for the base in Courchevel.  There we’d have a little lunch and head on back at the end of the day.   Nothing like a challenge to whet the appetite.   It turned out that we upped the challenge a little.  Pushing our speed and now being experienced in how to navigate French ski lift lines (sharpen your elbows and get your ski’s on top of others, before yours get stuck), we decided that actually that wasn’t challenge enough.  That’s right folks, we skied the Three Valleys and back before lunch.

There’s an old saying, “what happens on tour stays on tour”, so I hope the Cheapskis team will forgive me for sharing some of our stories.  We’re all a little older, somewhat wiser, we definitely need more sleep, although we all still ski, board and drive with that joie de vivre that has never left us, I’m sure we all sometimes wish those times back, all, apart probably from that bathroom in the hostel in Villars of course.

What’s a memorable trip for you?  Did you meet new folks?  Have a great time with friends and family?   Where are you heading to next? And who do you want to hear from next on #TravelTuesday?