This cute little country side B&B provided cozy lodging for our 3 days of the race. Located 15 mins or so from the track, just outside the town of Trois-Ponts. The owner, Francois, has handed the property, under the previous name of Auberge du Pere Boigelot, over to his daughter, Caroline. They were totally awesome hosts, and had the most amazing chicken dinner. The food was so good, and since we already had a couple glasses of wine, I forgot to take pictures.

The dining areas are adorned with waffle skillets converted to wall lights. I wanted to take one home, but no such luck. The rooms are Euro small but large enough to register as cozy roomy. No air conditioning, and the windows don’t really open much, so the upper rooms tend to get a little stuffy. But these are sleep over rooms, not luxury vacation. So you’re up in the morning, and home late in the evening. The beer offerings, Lupulus and Lienne, both from nearby micro brews, rate positively in beer circles, and my own world. To be honest, after walking all day, then having 2 bottles of wines, and then trying the Lienne 7% beer, I really don’t remember much. So find one yourself and give it a try.

There is nothing in this area other than fields and the turn-about. But if you’re walking, head back to Trois-Pont. There a couple of bars and restaurants, a grocery store, some wine shops and various little village shops. The population is listed at 2,400 people, so this is a small town by every sense of the word. But the backyard is a great place to take a deep breathe and take the country air in. And if you really are up for it, sneak out back and snatch a fresh apple from the tree. Feel free to feed to remainder of what you don’t eat to the horses, they love apples!

Adding comments later…

Our first stop in our Belgium Formula One weekend was the small town of Waimes, Belgium, to drop off my buddy’s luggage at their hotel. I couldn’t wait to see this place, a 4-star resort in this remote forest area of Belgium? We drive through Malmedy, a town infamous for the 1944 massacre of 84 American soldiers by their German captors. But we drive through Malmedy, and reach Waimes, a small European town of 6,400 people. We arrive at Hotel Cyrano, and I realize, European back country 4-star is a little different than big city 4-star. We park across the street, yes, across the street and bring the luggage over. Stepping inside the hotel, its small, even tiny. We carry the bags upstairs to their room on the 3rd floor via a tiny narrow, twisting stair case. The room was spacious enough, but we were hungry and headed downstairs to eat. Upon walking down and finding the dining area, wow, what a surprise. The main restaurant area was designed in a soft raspbeey theme. Cool!  Very modern, classic European. don’t judge the book by the cover.

I walk through the dining area, and I see a bar. OK, cool, I’m happy now. Then we see the large community tables of the bar side bar area. OK, this is nice. Classic Germany bruhaus style layout, large table where everyone congregates and shares the stories of the day over a cold beer and brats. And fries, don’t forget the Belgian fries. Belgian, not French.

So nice area, large and spacious, I step back to the bathroom, uh, water closet, And notice there’s an outdoor patio area for dining as well. Oh, that’s nice. OK, so there is more room to this little spot than I reckoned. Then I turn and notice, more community tables along a side patio. Cool, this place has a plethora of seating choices. And if you know me, you know how much I love dining and drinking al fresco, so this spot is right up my alley.

So anyway, we sit inside at one of the large tables, get our menus, and start practicing our French for ordering. After all, we are in back country Belgium. Ron and Terri speak German, so we have that covered as backup, but whatever they throw at us, we’re ready.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” We look up in astonishment. We thought we were in a foreign country? These guys all spoke English as clear as anyone from LA. OK, so Ron speaks to her in German, no dice. I try French, and she laughs at me. Oh well, welcome to the new World Order: America is King! The music, the B-52’s. Everyone wears Levis. The t-shirts from Nike, Guns and Roses, or some other Americana marketing slogan campaign.

So on to the food. The menu is…uh…Nuevo Belgian Americana. We order the burger, The Maxi-Burger Chez Gerty. Any burger named after the restaurant, with a hyphen, has to be good. I get a side of Buffalo Wings. Oh come on, I gotta try it to see how funny it’s going to taste. Terri also adds to the order a delicious little side dish of thinly sliced green Apples layered with goat cheese and cold baby shrimp. Reading the description from the menu, it sounds like it ought to be good. It has all the key components of a good dish: Apples, Shrimp, Goat cheese. All favorites of mine, please don’t mess this up.

Oh my! The food was so good, we forgot about heading to the track for an hour. That apple shrimp feta thing was sooooo good. The burger was one of the juiciest, tastiest I’ve had in a while. The bun was some sort of crusty, sour-doughy, crunchy tasty yummy bread. Crunchy enough to hold it all together, light enough to be a flavor supporter of a great beef burger. Add 2 types of cheese, tomato, red onions, pickles and a tasty Chez Gerty sauce, the burger exceeded expectations. Then the B-Wings come out, plump, juicy, dang me! This was not expected at a Belgian brasserie… in Belgium. And those fries! I caused a bit of confusion when I asked for ketchup and mustard. OK, ketchup they understood, typical Americans. But mustard, they were perplexed, but brought out their version, which turned out to be a spicy Dijon mustard. Good enough, the fries were my style: Big, fat and tasty. I even tried the mayonnaise. OK… I tried the mayonnaise, let’s just leave it at that. The food was awesome. Loved the servers, so friendly, loved the layout, fun and open and it was the perfect first meal in a new country after getting off a 24-hour flight. And now, off to the races!

So here I am on the eve of another flight to another country to another race. I come across an article about over packing. The plan is this: if you have problems with over packing, the solution is to pack everything you desire, then remove half. That sounds like a great plan, not! What’s the point of packing if you’re not going to overpack? Or better yet mega pack! Mega packing differs from overpacking. Instead of packing 7 T-shirts for a weekend trip, you pack for every imaginable event that could occur on your trip. Mega Packing is  like Bonobos for travel, an outfit for every occasion.

Imagine if you will: You’re in Milan, standing in front of La Scala. You’re there in a pair of baggy 501 jeans with a Patriots T-shirt feeling oh so cool. Go Tom! Suddenly, Sophia Loren walks by. She looks at you, smiles, walks into the opera house. You’re thinking it is on! You walk to follow her and suddenly you realize…it’s an opera house! Bet you wish you brought that tux now! And by the way she wasn’t smiling at you, that was a laugh. (Turns out she’s a Jets fan)

James Bond, a mega packer, always attends every event impeccably dressed. That white tux jacket is killer, and perfect since he’s licensed to kill. Assassinations, inaugurations, celebrations, he’s ready to go. And you never see him rolling his Tumi down the terminal aisle. That’s because he checked his 30″ roller.  And no rolling of clothes to save space. You never roll Armani.

The point is that he has clothes for every occasion. Light Columbia jacket for breakfast coffee, sleek Hugo Boss ensemble for scaling the outside of Blofeld headquarters, elegant Armani tux for cocktails and dinner with his new femme fatale. And then back to a newer, sleeker Hugo Boss black jump suit for the late night walk of shame and breaking into the main laser control room.

When you travel, it’s great to make plans, but when you travel abroad, you should over plan. It happened to me, I started the day wearing casual loose fit jeans, this was years ago, don’t judge, and a comfy t-shirt that reflected the sporting nature of F1 racing, but also indicated I was a total tourist. What did I care? I’m going to the race then back to the hotel in no certain terms. But after the race, I had to walk the track at Monaco. So my buddy and I are walking along the swimming pool chicane, and we hear music. Oh oh. Next thing we know we are sneaking into the party at La Rascasse. Drinking, laughing, dancing, it ranks up there with one of the great party nights ever. Then, one group we were hanging with, drags me along for the after party. Oh oh… I’m going along, a little more than 3 sheets to the wind, and suddenly realize we are in line at a Monaco night club. And me standing there like a tourist with my Gap loose fit jeans and souvenir t-shirt. Oh crap. Of course we were turned away at the door, and I learned a valuable lesson: Always have a white tux jacket at the ready.

The concept behind Mega Packing is that you don’t duplicate your clothes, unless of course you are repeating the actions of your travels. Yes, when I pack for a race, I include racing shirts for each day of racing. And as a mega packer, I then pack dressings for after race activities that contradict the race wear. What… there’s a casino here? Ok, smooth uptown city style now. Oh, Russian Ballet is making a stop the night we’re arriving? Good thing I packed a jacket. And dress shirt. And tie. Now based on the number of days of my trip, I may not need to duplicate extra cirricular packing. Usually one jacket is enough, but maybe multiple dress shirts could be in order. But yes, if you bring your white dinner jacket, then you may want to bring a black jacket as well. Hey, that’s up to you, but I wouldn’t wear white to both a Vueve Cliqcout cocktail party and a Russian ballet. And that’s the fun of mega packing, having the additional clothes inspires you to be more adventurous in your travels.

One of the push backs of Mega Packing is the service aspect. That so called “lugging” of baggage is easily remedied. That’s what sky caps, bell caps, and all the other caps that provide a service for us are for. Not to be arrogant, it’s their job. It’s what they do and what they enjoy. That’s how they pay their bills same as the work you do pays your bills. You don’t go into a restaurant and then not use the waiter? “Oh never mind, I already told the cook what I want. I’ll get it in a minute or so.”

Feel free to allow them to help. And don’t forget to tip. I like to do $2 – $5 depending on the situation. And it’s not a big deal. Let’s say $5 for sky cap, then $5 for hotel bell, and then reverse, that’s $20 per trip. And for a trip that’s you’re spending hundreds, if not thousands, this extra little bit, the same amount you’re probably spending on Starbucks, makes your trip just that much more special. The more work you do in a trip, the less it feels like a luxurious getaway. And nothing feels more luxurious than getting dressed up for special occasions, so pack those bags and have someone carry them for you.

One point of caution is the dreaded luggage weigh in. These days most airlines will allow 50lbs (23kgs) for your first checked bag. Remember to have a travel luggage scale on hand. Pick one up from Amazon or your local Target or Williams-Sonoma if that’s what’s in your area. The scales can be off 1-3 lbs, so don’t load it to the max. Also, you need to leave room for goodies coming home. Surprising how much a box of Belgian Chocolate-dipped Meringues can weigh.

For that reason, it’s also a good idea to pack a backpack or a duffel bag in your suitcase. If you run a foul of weigh limitations, grab your heaviest items and throw them in the backpack as a carry on item. This is one place where men get the better deal. That one carry on plus one personal bag, which for women is the sanctified albeit limited storage pod of a purse. For men, we can use a nice size mini-case of a backpack to store half a suitcase of goodies for the return flight. That could include a pair of Gucci sandals, brown De Laurentis double buckles and your favorite Prada payment leather in black. And still have room for iPad, assorted chargers and a box of Starbucks Via.

Travel elegantly and Bon Voyage!

So another Vegas trip, another Vegas adventure. This time we headed off to the Cosmopolitan Hotel.

The Cosmopolitan is an ultra urban, ultra sleek, total hipster hang out kind of place. The Cosmopolitan sets between the Bellagio and the Aria/Vdara/City Center complex. And uniquely enough it’s not attached to any of those. This is due mainly to the fact that the Bellagio was not part of the M life organization. As the Vdara, which sits behind the Cosmopolitan, connects to Bellagio via an internal tunnel, you would think they would just build a tunnel from the Cosmopolitan connecting the three.

But either way, once you check in to the Cosmopolitan, you are immediately hit by the glossy, glitzy entryway. Once in the room, that theme continues. The Cosmopolitan is a great space with the rooms larger than most common rooms. It reminds me of the old days of the Hard Rock Hotel being the blinged out boudoir of choice. Now those older rich guys have moved closer to the strip where the action is.

The rooms, equipped with wet sinks, microwaves, two TVs, a sitting area. This makes the rooms incredibly cozy to stay in, more like your little apartment and less a hotel room. All the finishes are top notch and high quality. I love the microwave, I don’t need an oven, but to heat up some of those left overs the next morning, and then relax on the couch, awesome! Especially in the fall when football is on Sunday and you’re nursing a hangover.

I love the step-through-shower concept, and will actually put it to use in some of the homes I’m remodeling. The sit down Jacuzzi tubs are awesome. Sit back and relax after a long day at the pool or after winning a fortunate on the slot machines downstairs. It could happen! Plus whats better than sitting in your tub, and looking over to the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Britney Spears images on the giant screen across the street? Way cool!

I love the idea of a balcony on a room, and Cosmopolitan is fantastic where not only do you have a balcony, but it’s all over looking the Las Vegas strip. Our particular balcony allowed us to look down at the Boulevard Pool. We could also look across to Planet Hollywood, and down the strip to Paris Paris or up to Aria.

The hotel continues Hard Rock Hotel purple theme. Oh Prince, where art thou? The beds are extremely comfortable, good closet space, fantastic bathroom set up with the walk in shower, make that walk through shower, Where you walk through the shower to get to the tub. It’s a cool set up definitely unique definitely 4-star. But if it does have one nuance, it’s that it has no drawers. Which is OK, since 9 times out of 10 you’re clothes are either in your suitcase are hanging on the closet rack anyway.

I first came across Momofuku in New York. My wife and I were there for her birthday, and I want to find a top notch foodie restaurant for her. Unfortunately I waited until the last minute and the place was reserved for the next two months. That’s the popularity of such high end restaurants like Momofuku. But then why wouldn’t it be popular, the guy’s got 2 Michelin stars, and the restaurant is awarded “Best of…” in so many categories, including Bon Appetit and Gourmet Traveler.

We started with Crab Deviled Eggs. I love love love ’em! Deviled Eggs, but adding some salmon roe, and topping it off shredded crab meat and crispy Bonito, this sounded awesome! And it was. I know, in a Asian themed Michelin spot and I choose Deviled Eggs. Oh well, I’m not THAT adventurous, I just like good stuff regardless of the theme.

After zooming through our first glasses of wine, the entrees started coming out. She ordered the Rotisserie Chicken & Fried Bones. Tender juicy chicken thigh pieces and crispy fried wings that if you were adventurous enough, or hungry enough, you could bite right through to the bone. If only Buffalo Wild Wings were this tasty.

I got the Smoked Pork Chop. What I found interesting was that instead of a huge pork chop, it comes out sliced and tender as can be. A peach on top, and rye cognac broth underneath, it was BBQ heaven. Soft and tender, a delicate balance of flavors across a wide palette of textures. And huge servings!

To accompany the entrees, there was no way I could pass up on the Crispy Potatoes. Tender little fingerings, fried to perfection, light and airy, then topped with a truffle sour cream, shredded Parmesan cheese, chives. I didn’t even notice the truffle Tofu blended in. I may have been overwhelmed by the size. How are we going to eat all of this!?! We were so stuff at this point, we took almost half back to the room for breakfast the following day.

On a trip to Las Vegas, our return was met with an insane amount of traffic. By the time we got to Baker, Google Maps told us to take a detour and rerouted us around several accidents along interstate 15. We get off at Baker, took a left and headed down Kelbaker Road. An isolated stretch of highway, partially maintained over the years, that seem to just run on and on and on. I had no idea where we were, other than the satellite view of our map of course, nothing to see for miles, until we rounded a bend and there stood an oasis of palm trees and a tiled roof. Of course at this point, I had been on the road for the last four hours of traffic, so I had no intention whatsoever of stopping, but I did see a sign, Kelso Depot, so I made a mental note and kept driving.

A year later I’m driving from Palm Springs to Las Vegas for a weekend at the Cosmopolitan. Realizing the drive was going to be a long one, I take the more venturous route up Hwy 62 to Kelbaker Road, and suddenly my memory springs to life. Kelso Depot. I remember that spot and I anticipate revisiting this isolated location. I enter the Mojave National Preserve, and realize what our ancestors braved through to settle Southern California. This is isolated wilderness with no indication whatsoever of civilization to the north south east or west. Imagine coming across this in a buck wagon and an old pair of trousers. Not the BMW air conditioned comfort that I’m not used to now. A few hours later, we arrive at the Kelso Depot and it is beautifully maintained. A true oasis in the desert. There is absolutely nothing else here, other than this train stop.

The train station originally opened in 1905, then rebuilt in 1923, serving as a stop for steam locomotives moving people and mining materials to the Los Angeles area. Back in the day, mining was the lifeblood of Southern California, and the Mojave desert is littered with remnants of this. Boron, a small town 2 hours drive west of here, is home to 20 Mule Team Borax, a cleaner first mined and produced in 1891, and is still available on store shelves today. 45 minutes east is Nipton, a mining town long dead, that has been purchased and is planned as a marijuana Disneyland.

Kelso Depot is under the protection of the National Park Service, it is maintained immaculately as both museum and memory of a time long gone. The train tracks still exist, but I don’t think the train has come down these tracks in decades. The depot serves more as I stop over for people needing to use the restroom, and as a curiosity spot for tourists and hobbyist researching old Southern California and its mining past. I step inside and I’m met by park ranger, Mark, who has a dusty, cool smile on this 112 degree day. I look around, and there’s what’s left of the old Kelso restaurant, now a coffee counter with a small menu of burgers, fries, tacos and chips. But no one seems to be manning the grill, so I step over to the tourist rack and purchase a Kelso Depot poster for nostalgia sake.

Back outside under the palm trees I take a look around, and notice a sign identifying the old location of the Kelso jail. I love the idea that this jail is stated as built to “confine drunks and other unruly individuals,” namely me in a couple more hours,. The jail was built back in the mid-1940s but is long gone. I’m sure somebody will have a grand idea to use some reclaimed lumber to rebuild it to its original specifications. That will be cool to see. Maybe they can take the backside of the old post office across the street. This abandoned desolate little building is a reminder of how small we used to be. This stop had a post office, and I’m sure at some point a bustling a little town built around it. Now it’s just a leftover abandoned little shack as the trains have stopped rolling and mines have stopped producing and everyone just takes the 15 from LA to Vegas.

Thank you to the National Park Service for preserving this memory.

For years I was one of those who would never use a hotel soap. I’ll bring my own travel size of Dove or Axe body wash to maintain that fresh from home body clean smell. But one day I forgot to refill my soap and was forced to use hotel soap. I was surprised at how luxurious and moisturizing the soap was to my skin. Not the old school ivory bar hotels used in years past. This change my look on hotel soap, and I’ve begun searching for the best in hotel soaps. Recently, I came across 3 different hotels in 3 days that led to the ultimate comparison:

Pechanga Resort and Casino, Temecula, CA

Our first stop is Pechanga resort and Casino in Temecula. We stop off to spend the night before heading for our global entry interview in San Diego. If you haven’t been to Pechanga, it’s pretty much the largest casino in California, and I would say the largest casino in the western United States. The rooms are nicely appointed but what caught me, and started this article, were these Vanilla Bean scoops of ice cream posing as soap. It looks so delicious you almost want to eat it, and the half moon shape is actually great to shower with. Sense brand provides the soap is gentle, moisturizing, and lathers very well. The display of the soap garners points as well, with that little square China soapdish

Hyatt Palm Springs, Palm Springs, CA

The following night we stop off at the Hyatt Palm Springs in Palm Springs California. The Hyatt Palm Springs is one of those classic hotels that have been there forever, located on Palm Desert Drive, in the heart of downtown Palm Springs. The location alone garners points for its excitement aspect, central to several bars, pubs, restaurants, clubs and general fun time summer activities. The hotel is a little dated and so is it’s presentation. The KenetMD branded offerings of 1 ounce toiletries, desert pastel color branding, and a small round bar soap does not scream Palm Springs lifestyle. And unfortunately it is a little dry on the moisturizing scale. But they do offer a liquid soap as backup, which is gentler on the skin. For this hotel, I would say bring your soap from home if you want to stay soft and supple in the desert heat.

The Cosmopolitan, Las Vegas, NV

After leaving Palm Springs we make it to Las Vegas for our Saturday night stay. The cosmopolitan is definitely Vegas baby Vegas! The hotel is hopping, the decor is top notch, and it’s soap offering is extensive. But unfortunately, it is nothing over-the-top, in contrast to the hotel. The Bigelow branded offerings are simple yet effective, and the peppermint scent of the shower gel does have a soothing effect, in the shower. As for moisturizing, it ranks in the middle of the pack. But they do get an extra point for the fact that they do offer both bar and liquid soaps. They also offer a mouthwash. I know that has nothing to do with soap, but oh well.

And the winner: Pechanga! The Pechanga soap was so nice, both from decorative and from our moisturizing and lathering aspects, that not only did we take the remainder of the soap home, I also grabbed an extra bar when walking past the maid card on the way out. You did not just read that!

As we prepare for our fantastical voyage to Belgium and Milan for the Formula One Gran Prix, we also plan to take advantage of the new travelers Global Entry program. Unfortunately by the time we submitted our applications for Global Entry, it was literally a six-month wait for the on-site interviews at LAX. So instead we decided to make an adventure of it and scheduled an appointment at the San Diego International Airport. We figured let’s spend the night in Pechanga Casino in Temecula, gamble up a storm, go to the airport in the morning and complete our interviews.

Arriving at San Diego International, we head upstairs to complete our interviews. The cool guy behind the counter happens to be both a fan of BBQ and recently traveled to Brussels, and recommends Brussels Grill to us. Not sure of where it’s located, we google it, and like that, we have our first stop on the tour. This guy is pretty cool for a travel officer, but I do notice he keeps asking us little questions, as if we are going to slip up and reveal that we’re smuggling Black Mamba. whatever dude! After we’ve completed our application at the airport, which is a pretty cool airport, granted, to me, every airport is cooler than LAX, we head over for some lunch, and decide let’s hit Little Italy. Hey, I’ve got to start practicing my Italian sometime. Years ago, we carbed-up at some Italian restaurant when prepping for the Rock and Roll marathon. We knew it was somewhere on the main street of Little Italy, we remembered that it had a store in front, restaurant in back, (a culinary mullet) and remembered it was a lot of fun. Apparently there’s a lot of Chanti flowing at night. And since Little Italy comprises primarily of one main street, we were pretty comfortable that we’ll be able to find it again. And find it we did! Filippi’s Pizza Grotto Little Italy is a landmark here. The area was settled in the early 1900s by Italian immigrants (you hear that Trump?) and there are several monuments around town to pay homage to these settlers, including several monuments and plaques dedicated WWI and WW II veterans who gave their lives for our freedom. God bless them!

We head on in and yes this is the spot! Walking through the store just makes you that much more hungry for ordering food in the restaurant. Even the cans look good here, and of course the counter displays of Italian nougat began scratching my funny bone. I love that stuff, taste test coming up. We head back and are seated with the lovely Maria. She jokes with us once we tell her we’re from Los Angeles, turns out she was born in LA, moved down to San Diego to marry a Navy man, and she’s been working here the restaurant for the last 25 years. She’s a wonderful woman and just her zest and smile makes the meal and the Chianti that much better. I love good food, but I really love great people. I go for my favorite, Lasagna. Nancy grabs a big plate of spaghetti, and soon we chow down on some old world Italian cuisine. We begin to dream of what it’s going to be like to dine at an Italian restaurant when we get to Milan. I wonder if they’re going to be like this? Do they actually have little restaurants with Chianti bottles hanging off the ceiling? I guess we’re going to find out another four weeks or so. We finish up lunch, and began our journey to Las Vegas via an overnight stay in Palm Springs. But first, I must stop at the counter and grab some nougat bars.

Ever since our stop at the Ferrara store in New York’s Little Italy, I’ve been hooked on Italian nougat bars, called Torrone in native Ital-glish. I love the pistachio bars, the little crunchy nuts, the creamy nougat…heaven! I grab three bars with the idea of conducting a taste test when we settle down somewhere and I can clear my palate. And that opportunity came that night in Palm springs. Staying at our regular Hyatt spot, we open all three and cut off small taster samples. Each bar had it’s own distinct taste, and that’s the good thing. they actually have taste, not just flavored paper. The first is the Ferrara of course. Crunchy, with the extra honey punching through. Second, a bite of the Florentine. Oh my! Extra almonds give it a smokier, darker taste. Next, the Oliviero comes through with a rich nougat flavor. three tastes, three flavors. But this time, I have to give it to La Florentine. The extra almonds gave a it a little more punch of nuts and toasty flavor. The Ferrara came in second, the honey giving it an extra little sweetness, fitting my palate. But the Oliviero has nothing to be ashamed of. Any one of these would be my pick depending on the time of day. And as we broke open a bottle of red wine, the Oliviero actually began to taste a lot better and compliment the wine. Good times.

In the end, we spoke no Italian. And we had very little time to start practicing. I downloaded Babel in hopes that would supplement my high school Italian. Boun Giorno! Parlate Inglese?