It may be something of an exaggeration to say you can have Marco Island, Fla., all to yourself in September. But it wouldn’t be much of one. This is the lowest point of low season, when the summer visitors have left and the snowbirds have yet to arrive. The remaining would-be guests are staying away because of the weather (too warm, they think, or maybe there’ll be a hurricane) and as a result, large parts of Southwest Florida’s resort areas are virtual ghost towns.
Destinations
The Kansas Underground Salt Museum (working mine plus salt history) won’t open this summer after all. November is now the goal. But wipe away those salty tears of disappointment. Plenty of new summer thrills await.
Face it: Everyone has made vacation plans but you. The Travel Industry Association of America predicts Americans will take 325.6 million domestic leisure trips this summer (and a possible record 13 million-plus are off to Europe). Fortunately, we live on a big planet. Check out a special summer troubleshooter and these tips on what to do.
Cayo Costa, a tiny Gulf Coast barrier island near Sanibel, Fla., is one of the least visited of Florida’s state parks. Which is exactly why tourists are drawn to this sanctuary of white-sand beaches and oak-palm hammocks, a place so remote that it can be reached only by boat.
As a college student hiking through the French Alps many years ago, I accidentally uncovered one hotel’s shocking secret. I didn’t mean to reveal it. It was a blistering hot day in Grenoble, and my traveling companion, Nate, wandered toward a swimming pool behind the resort while I stocked up on water and provisions. Moments [...]
To this day, I don’t know how I got infected. Maybe I picked it up on our flight from Newark or on the layover in London. But by the time I boarded the riverboat in Mainz, Germany, I had a full-blown case of the Norwalk Virus: chills, diarrhea, nausea, and stomach cramps. Gastrointestinal viruses such as Norwalk are becoming increasingly common among cruise ship passengers. They’re caught by eating food or drinking liquids that are tainted, touching contaminated surfaces or objects and then putting your hand in your mouth or coming into direct contact with someone else who is sick. The cruise industry is quick to point out that infection can happen anywhere – in a plane, a restaurant, an airport terminal. And that may be true. Equally true, however, is that the reports of cruise ship passengers spending part of their voyage in the infirmary are on the rise. So whether they catch the stomach flu before they board – as I did – or on the journey is probably academic to most passengers.
No sooner had we settled into our room at the Ritz-Carlton Coconut Grove than we heard a knock at the door. Aren, our 16-month-old son, toddled over to open it, but his tiny hands couldn’t reach the knob. “Room service,” the voice on the other side announced. Did we order room service? Hardly, but that didn’t stop a hotel employee from delivering a silver tray with an enormous, freshly-baked M&M cookie – Aren’s favorite – to our room.
It could be the architecture – the soaring cathedrals built on Roman ruins – that draws visitors to the ancient Hungarian city of Sopron. Or maybe it’s the sidewalk cafés, with their delectable pastries such as the dense chocolate Sachertorte or the Ferenc Rahozzi, a multilayered cheesecake, which bring them to this town along the Austrian border. Then again, it’s probably the teeth.
Remember when air travel was an elegant experience that passengers dressed up for? When meals were served on china with real silverware? And doting flight attendants pinned honorary plastic wings on the lapels of wide-eyed youngsters? I do, because I was one of those kids. I was charmed by crew members who made me feel like I was sitting in first class, even though I had a seat in economy. And, of course, I wanted to grow up to be a pilot. Every boy who was lucky enough to fly in those days wanted to be a pilot, especially after a visit to the cockpit.
The come-as-you-are Florida Keys are synonymous with fishing, diving and dusk-to-dawn parties. But luxury vacations? Conventional wisdom says skip this wacky island chain and try Coconut Grove or Palm Beach instead. Hold on. Although the Keys’ reputation as a place that’s a little rough around the edges is well-deserved, several new attractions have emerged that offer true extravagance – whether it’s a VIP dive trip, a white-glove fishing excursion, a sunset cruise on a luxury catamaran or a five-star lodging experience on your own private island.
A steaming plate arrives at our table with bite-sized servings of alligator, catfish and frog legs. It comes with a side of cocktail sauce for dipping, in case we’re feeling adventurous. We aren’t. “Wait, wait,” we hear from the kitchen, just as we’re about to sample from the so-called “critter platter.” “You have to try this.” Ben Bishop, the general manager of Marsh Landing restaurant, emerges with yet another delicacy: a dense, spicy broth. He slides our dish aside to make room for the bowl.
The storm sweeps across Sanibel Harbor at dawn, drawing a dark curtain over the island. Gray water churns angrily, spitting foamy waves on the beach. Gale-force wind gusts rage. What a perfect day to go shelling. Yes, shelling.
In “Mission: Space,” Walt Disney World’s newest thrill-ride, the raw force of a rollercoaster is replaced by the choreographed spins of a custom-built centrifuge. If your memories of space-themed attractions in Mouse Country consist of being jerked from side to side, jolted and jostled inside a pitch-black enclosure a la “Space Mountain,” you’ll probably breathe a sigh of relief. But don’t get too comfy, Space Rangers.
Walt Disney World’s newest character is cute, charming – and controversial. My Pal Mickey, a 10½-inch doll stuffed with fluff and microchips, is a state-of-the-art interactive tour guide created just for Disney’s theme parks. But this little mouse is rumored to do more than talk. Some of the Magic Kingdom’s conspiracy-minded critics have accused My Pal of tracking them on their vacation and using the data for nefarious market-research purposes. How dangerous is this $47 rodent? Only one way to find out: We imposed on our one-year-old son, Aren, to take the toy for a spin around the park.
The spring water is served in plastic bowls – on the floor – at Sun Valley’s finest restaurants. The biscuits are cold and hard, and they taste doggone funny, come to think of it. But patrons pant for more. Sometimes they bark, too. Welcome to the most dog-friendly resort in America.
Elliott is consumer advocate 
I'm on Facebook: Please "like" 
WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM? If you're having trouble with a travel business - any business - and you've reached a dead end, maybe I can help. Send me an