Venturing out of season

New England has been pummeled with feet of snow and inches of ice over the past few months. Hundreds of thousands of residents in central Massachusetts and New Hampshire lost power for weeks around Christmastime after a monstrous storm that blanketed roads and power lines in ice. My driveway is a skating rink, and I have to scrape a layer of frost off my car every morning before work.

So it's going to sound strange when I say that this is a great time of year to visit Massachusetts.

There's something that binds together all us crazy people who brave the elements up here when the snow won't stop and our backs are aching from shoveling the walks. We grew up sledding after school and building backyard ice rinks. When we learned to drive, our parents made us practice in two feet of snow so we'd learn what happened when we slammed on the brakes in the middle of a slide: "Scary, huh? You don't wanna do that again, do ya?" (My dad took it one step further and showed me how to operate the snow plow on his truck when I turned 16, "just in case.") We carried an extra set of clothes to elementary school to change after recess when our pants, mittens, socks, and hats were soaked through. When we played with the neighborhood kids, the parents would make us go outside for fresh air, no matter how much snow was on the ground; we'd only be allowed to come back inside for hot chocolate and marshmallows after our noses and ears were thoroughly pinked.

There's a shared experience that pulls together New Englanders when the temperatures drop. We're survivors. We have suffered blizzards in April that kill off the first crocuses daring to push through the soil. We have walked with the bundled masses to get to school, to work, to social engagements. We root on our sports teams with even more fervor when we have to scrape the snow off our seats. Subzero wind chills can't bring us down. It's part of our culture.

And you're going to miss out on witnessing that culture when you visit on a balmy weekend in June.

In case you're wondering, the above photo is from a particularly nasty February storm when I was in school at the University of Massachusetts. Walking to class in six inches of pure slush is an experience in and of itself.

Place of the week: Anne Frank House

Don't be deterred by the long line outside the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam--what awaits inside is well worth the time. At first, the museum won't seem like much; as you walk through, you'll notice stenciled quotes from the book on the walls and a few pictures and video exhibits. But the weight of history settles in as soon as you pass the bookcase that hid the door and enter the actual annex where the now-famous Anne Frank and her family hid from the Nazis. These small rooms are the place where a teenaged Anne spent two years, so the true power of the museum is in the details. Make sure to read the brochure so you don't miss the subtleties of the space, like the pencil marks on the walls where Otto Frank measured his daughters' growth while they were in hiding. You'll see the pictures of movie stars Anne hung on the wall to make the tiny room "look much more cheerful," as she writes in her diaries. Upstairs, a glass passageway takes visitors to the front part of the attic; look overhead for another stenciled quote from the diaries: "The English radio says they're being gassed. I feel terribly upset." Her first diary is on display in a glass case; as you examine it, her handwriting will recall her striking youth during the whole ordeal. The exhibits end with letters written by Anne's father when he found out his daughters had died in concentration camps.

Tip: Visit first thing in the morning to minimize your wait time.

Anne Frank House
Prinsengracht 267, Amsterdam
Phone: +31 (0) 20 5567100
Web: www.annefrank.org

Place of the week: International Spy Museum

The spy industry survives on its own implicit secrecy, so that’s probably why we find the idea of the International Spy Museum so fascinating—it opens doors that you’ve only been able to imagine from the array of Hollywood spy blockbusters. From the very beginning, the tour puts visitors in the shoes of a spy, assigning everyone a secret identity and testing memory and observational skills at video-screen checkpoints along the way. The rest of the museum is mostly informational, with a smattering of interactive games and exhibits along the way—plus a chance to crawl through ductwork above the exhibit rooms and eavesdrop on simulated conversations below. The Spy Museum has an extensive collection of spy gadgets, from a gun disguised as a tube of lipstick to a pair of glasses that hide a dose of cyanide. The history involved is perhaps the best part: learn about little-known spymasters Harriet Tubman, Moses, and George Washington, then see the espionage-tinged back-story behind events that have changed the world, from Pearl Harbor to the Cold War. Plan on arriving first thing in the morning in order to get the most bang for your buck; otherwise, the huge crowds will really detract from the experience. The interactive features are fun, but if there are large waves of people coming through, you likely won’t get a chance to try them out anyway. If this is the case, grab a bite at the café or check out the gift shop for some cool spy-themed souvenirs.

The International Spy Museum
800 F St., NW, Washington, D.C.
Phone: 202 393 7798
Web: www.spymuseum.org

Sight unseen

A few months ago, I drove out to Western Massachusetts to visit some friends at UMass, my alma mater. Although I lived in Amherst for four years and had made countless trips along I-90 and through the back roads of Palmer and Belchertown, I noticed the eye-popping colors of the foliage covering the hills more than I had ever remembered doing in the past.

At first I thought it must just be peak foliage, but I had been there through four autumns and never really taken the time to notice my surroundings. I realized that every time I'd made the drive, I was just in a rush to get to my destination, whether it was a class, a meeting, or the comfort of home. When a place becomes part of the everyday, it's easy to let it pass by without a second glance.

But no matter how many times you've been there, when you have a new purpose, you can see it through different eyes.

When I was in Seville, I was constantly surrounded by flowering orange trees, quaint parks, and landmarks that went back thousands of years. My friends and I used the cathedral, built in the 15th and 16th centuries, as a meeting place when we were going out for a night on the town. Half of the time, we forgot we were standing next to a church that generations and generations had worked on and worshipped in.

When my parents and friends came to visit at the halfway point of my stay, I suddenly became a tour guide. La Giralda, or the belltower of the cathedral, suddenly transformed into an incredible feat of architecture and engineering. Every new food was a wonder to them, and every treat was a delicacy. They couldn't believe how lucky I was to be living in that place, and I started to appreciate it in a new light, too.

I started taking more and more runs to explore the city and making wide detours on my way home from class. I'd spontaneously take a bus to the river to enjoy the views of Seville's ancient neighborhoods. I took more pictures. I stopped trying to get the city to conform to my on-the-go, rush-rush lifestyle and started taking my coffee at the cafe table and sipping it leisurely, the way it was meant to be enjoyed.

All I needed was a new pair of eyes to see a completely different city.

Save Our Trip

I read an interesting article today on the New York Times Online about travel risk management companies--something I'd never heard about before. With political and social skirmishes taking a larger toll on business travelers and vacationers, most recently in Mumbai, it seems that people have been turning more and more to professional help in case of emergency.

Although it points out that most situations have to do with accidents or theft, you can't help but think what a savior it would be in a more serious situation--one with national or global ramifications. People aren't just traveling to Canada anymore; destinations range all over the globe, where customs and safety issues might be drastically different from the home territory.

There's something comforting about exploring within the United States, where you know the rules and where you can go in a worst-case situation. We're trained to call 911, to scream for help, to run in the opposite direction. But what happens if you don't know the way? What happens if nobody will come to your rescue or you can't speak the language? What happens if the authorities won't help, either?

In this day and age, there's no reason not to use the communication technology we have to the fullest advantage possible. It's about time we gather our resources and help one another, because there's no telling what could happen if you make the wrong move.

Last spring, I took a vacation trip to the Dominican Republic with several friends. I was amazed by the difference between the resort life and the rest of the country--almost to the point that I was losing sleep over it. We landed our plane in Punta Cana and had to drive about an hour to our resort in a rickety old van, passing some truly appalling conditions, from barefoot kids on the side of the road to emaciated horses tied to trees. It was so drastically different from where we landed in Boston, or even in Puerto Rico, that we almost couldn't imagine it was in the same hemisphere.

I realized that we had no idea what the customs were there if something bad were to happen. It's not something you think about when you book a tropical resort trip, because it's impossible to imagine anything beyond sun and sand. But when my roommate and I both woke up on the same night with sweats and nausea, taking turns sprinting to our hotel bathroom, all I could think was that if we didn't get better, we wouldn't have our safe, clean, regulated United States hospitals to fall back on. I had friends who had gotten sick in Spain and in Ghana and who experienced firsthand the ghastly conditions that some hospitals overseas can have. Granted, it depends widely on the location and the situation, but I had to wonder what kind of medical infrastructure this host country would provide.

It would make me feel good to know that there's a system behind me that could walk me through the things I don't know how to handle. The travel world is growing all the time, and this certainly seems to be a positive expansion.