Why I'll Never Stay at a Howard Johnson Hotel Again.

The first time I stayed at a Howard Johnson, or HoJo, was 20 years ago. An exchange student at the University of Iowa, some fellow foreign students and I rented two cars and drove to Washington D.C. for spring break. The four guys crammed in one room, the four girls in another... and another. Our first room lasted all of five minutes before we realized that not only was the toilet lacking a seat, it also failed to flush. After some time at the front desk, and some considerable griping (they were at first unwilling to move us), we eventually secured a new room, with working toilet and a remote control for the television (for a deposit - who knew there was such a black market trade in remote controls?)

Our first night was noisy but nothing we couldn't live with. The second night, we were awoken by police banging on the door of the adjoining room. My friend from Finland got to see his first drugs and prostitution bust.

We spent the remainder of our stay enjoying the sights of D.C. and Annapolis, returning to the hotel only to bar our doors and attempt to sleep.

I swore afterwards to never stay at one again.

And stupidly, I broke that promise to myself.

We recently found ourselves looking for two hotel rooms in New York. My parents were flying in for a visit and we were to meet them in the city before driving on to Niagara Falls and Toronto. The trouble was, we were on a budget. And New York is not cheap. Looking on Hotels.com, my husband came across a listing in the Bronx. Not my first choice of locations but the prices were reasonable (though still not cheap), and the hotel had a surprising number of good reviews. Enough good reviews that, even upon learning it was a Howard Johnson and expressing some surprise that they were still in business, I agreed to the reservation. Reviews talked of the delightful spacious rooms, the proximity to local transport into the city, etc. Could it be that we had stumbled upon a hidden gem?

So we reserved two rooms, paid up front (no refunds available), and continued planning our trip.

August arrived and we found ourselves completing the long drive from Kentucky to New York City and decided to drop our stuff off at the hotel before going to pick my parents up at JFK. As we got closer, I felt concerned. This was not the nicest looking neighborhood. And then we arrived at the hotel. Feeling some trepidation as we parked, I agreed to be optimistic and to at least give the rooms a chance. Remember - it might be a gem.

Our first bad sign was when we asked at the front desk if our car was ok. She told us she wouldn't leave a car parked here and to remove everything from it. She then announced we had smoking rooms, which we had certainly not booked given that my husband is an asthmatic. Not to worry, she assured us, as soon as a nonsmoking room became available, she would move us.

Our room was... how to describe it...dismal. I have stayed in some great places and some grotty places before. I've stayed in places where I've barred the door while drunk truck drivers argue all night outside. At the end of the day, it's a place to sleep, and so, after carefully checking the bed for bugs and finding it clear, I placed my bags on the mattress. The carpet was brown, not a warm inviting brown, but the sort of dingy dung color made worse by years of cigarette smoke, the smell of which hung in the air like a fog. The bedspread, also brown, was dotted with cigarette burns. Before I could open the window to let some air in, it hit me. A loud, deafening roar across metal. The hotel was indeed close to the public transportation. In fact the track ran immediately outside our third floor room. So close that I could probably sell newspapers to the passing commuters.

I wanted to cry but we had no time. We had to pick up my parents. As we shared our first slices of New York pizza in a city diner, I warned them. Good job I had as I saw my mum's face drop as she entered their room, the better of the two, which is like comparing a pile of horse manure to a pile of pig manure. We all agreed that we would stick it out for the night and discuss what to do in the morning.

Then I returned to our room and cried.

The night began with despair and passed through delirium and a range of other emotions previously unknown in such a short space of time.

The trains rumbled past every ten minutes or so. My husband and I lay in bed, marking each one and thinking surely they wouldn't run past midnight. Or past 1 a.m. Perhaps 2 a.m. Finally at about 2, they stopped.

The air conditioning unit rattled nearly as loudly as the train and spewed random streams of water across the room. But switching it off, made the room unbearably hot. By 1.30 or so, my husband, already having difficulty breathing because of the cigarette smoke, and now more so because of the heat, had stripped naked and was laying on the bed with two cool washcloths, one on his head, and one on his genitals, in an attempt to reach a comfortable temperature. Meanwhile I was laying there, laughing hysterically. By this point, I didn't know what else to do.

We eventually passed out from exhaustion at about 3.30. A few hours later, the phone rang. My parents had experienced a similar night. The decision was made.

We knew we couldn't get a refund but that didn't matter. For our sanity's sake, we had to move. Hubby found a Marriott hotel in Queens, and spoke to a wonderful guy at front desk who told us he had rooms available. After venturing into the breakfast room, we packed our bags, and left without a word. When we arrived at our hotel in Queens, they checked us in, helped with our bags, and showed us our rooms. My mum jumped for joy - they have pictures on the wall, nice ones, and plenty of towels, and look at the beds.

I left reviews at Hotels.com and at TripAdvisor, and I'm pleased to say the remainder of our trip went ahead with no lodging problems. I can't help but wonder though, who these people are that raved online about the beautiful spacious rooms. Where do they normally live that this miserable (and it was truly miserable) place could be called delightful?

And more importantly, how on earth are Howard Johnson STILL in business?

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Marengo Cave, Indiana

Next time you are in the Louisville area, it's worth taking the hour or so drive into Southern Indiana to visit the cave at Marengo. Although nowhere near as big as Kentucky's Mammoth Cave, Marengo certainly offers a fun way to spend an afternoon.

There are two basic tours of the cave, one lasting 45 minutes, the other an hour. I suggest taking both, as each explores one side of the cave, both meeting in the middle. Yes, you'll hear a lot of the same information twice, but the formations in each half are quite distinct due to different levels of humidity.

Our tour guide Sarah at the Dripstone Trail entrance. 

The cave was discovered by a young brother and sister in 1883. The Crystal Palace Tour will show the original entrance that they discovered and recreate their candlelight exploration, making you more than grateful for modern lighting.

By the turn of the 20th century, Marengo was a popular tourist destination and you will find many reminders of their visits, both in the gravity on the cave walls and through the damaged stalactites, broken off by many as souvenirs. It was even a popular site for dances in the years leading up to the Depression.

Now the site is a National Landmark, open daily for short tours and longer underground crawls.

So whether you're an experienced lover of the underground (such as I am) or if this is your first time, Marengo is worth a stop on your drive through Kentuckiana.

Reflections at Mirror Lake

Five of My Favorite Castles

Time for a quick photo show of some of the my favorite castles that I've visited around the world. In no particular order...

Leeds Castle, England
Photo by Ron Smith

Reportedly called the loveliest castle in the world, Leeds Castle in my home county of Kent is quite spectacular. It also is home to possibly the most difficult garden maze I've ever entered. No matter how many times you get lost or find yourself back at the entrance of the maze, do persevere (or get some kind soul who has found the middle to offer directions), because your exit is via an underground grotto devoted to Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

Schloss Linderhof, Germany
Photo courtesy of WikiCommons

Neuschwanstein may be the world's most photographed castle (I have yet to visit there), but tourists in Bavaria should not skip King Ludwig's other two castles. Linderhof is the smallest and was the only one to be completed during his lifetime. Originally a forester's lodge, it was developed into a magnificent palace, its rooms resplendently decorated with goldleaf. The Hall of Mirrors gives the illusion of a neverending walkway, while the magnificent gardens are home to an underground grotto (what is it with castles and grottos?) complete with lake and golden swan boat.

Chateau Villandry, France
Photo courtesy of WikiCommons

I've visited a number of chateaux in France's Loire Valley, but Villandry with its huge gardens is definitely my favorite. I like to imagine myself in period costume wandering through the manicured hedgerows - I have the same daydream when I visit the maze at Hampton Court Palace. This is no time to remind me of the impracticality of corsets and petticoats. This is my time to dream.

Matsumoto, Japan

During my three years in Japan, Matsumoto was always a popular destination for a day out, thanks in large part to its castle. Built in 1592, the castle is designated a National Treasure. Feel free to wander around by yourself or use one of the free local English-speaking guides. When my parents visited, we were shown around by a lively old man who loved to explain his theory that Star Wars was based entirely on Japanese history and culture! However you choose to explore, this is the place to relive your ninja daydreams.

Hever Castle, England

I'm English, so it would be all to easy for me to go on all day about castles and only those in the British Isles, and with good reason. We have some of the finest in the world. I'm also lucky enough to have grown up near so many of them: Leeds, Walmer, Deal with its Tudor Rose shape, Dover with its WWII headquarters buried deep beneath the white cliffs... and Hever. I'm being very restrained in only including two in this post, and Hever is my second. Whereas Leeds Castle was frequented by Henry VIII and his first wife Catherine of Aragon, Hever was the childhood home of Anne Bullen (better known as Boleyn). It is here among the 100+ acres of romantic landscaped gardens that the king wooed his second wife. There are two mazes here, a traditional yew, and a water maze which will prove great fun for kids. In many ways I prefer it to Leeds Castle.

Forget Your French Lessons - It's Byoolee!

Stately homes often conjure up images of stuffy old buildings, busloads of old people, and bored kids being dragged from room to room by their parents. And there's no doubt that I've visited my share of those (although I was the odd child who enjoyed these old houses).

Something old

Fortunately, though, Lord Montagu, ancestral owner of Beaulieu in England's New Forest is a savvy man. While many stately mansions struggle to attract visitors, Lord Montagu has helped Beaulieu become the ideal family day out, thanks in large part to his hobby. The avid car buff's sizable collection is on display to the public at the site's National Motor Museum, and what a collection it is. More than 250 vehicles and bikes can be seen, ranging from 19th century penny farthings to top of the range Formula One racers. And with many of them maintained in working order, you never know what you might come across being driven around the property grounds. Other vehicles in the collection include Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, some wonderfully nostalgic British vehicles, and Sir Donald Campbell's magnificent Bluebird, the vehicle that set a new World Land Speed Record in 1964.

The record breaking Bluebird

Americans have the Oscar Meyer hot dog; we had the Outspan Orange!

Every car should have room for rockets!

Still not enough to satisfy your thirst for incredible autos? Get to Beaulieu before February 2014 to enjoy the Bond in Motion exhibition, celebrating 50 years of our favorite British spy. From Aston Martins that have suffered the worst of crashes to the motorbikes from Skyfall, you can relive some of your best Bond moments with this wonderful collection. 

Elsewhere in the grounds, The World of Top Gear takes you behind the scenes of Britain's best-loved car show with a display of their more...eclectic... creations. 

But remember, this is also a stately home so lets leave the cars and talk about the house itself. Palace House has been home to the Montagu family since the 16th century. Still a family residence, only a few rooms are open to the public, but they offer a fascinating look into the history of the Montagus. If you're lucky, you can also catch one of the daily musical performances by members of staff.  

Children's playroom

Once you're done browsing the portraits, the formal gardens and the remains of Beaulieu Abbey provide opportunities for peaceful strolls and country picnics. 

Finally, don't forget to wander down to the village of Beaulieu where tourists, locals, and New Forest ponies all mingle - I can't recommend the chocolatier enough. 

Why You Should Skip Stonehenge

To some, what I am about to say will be sacrilege. I am going to tell you why you shouldn't bother visiting that ultimate image of old Britain: Stonehenge. Yes, I've been there and yes, I had a wonderful time, but would I recommend it?

No.

Better here than in the flesh?

In a perfect world, this would be your trip to Stonehenge, and incidentally, this is how my visit went. Arrive in Amesbury the night before and find somewhere to stay. Enjoy a pleasant meal ... ok this did NOT happen for us. We ended up at a Little Chef in the pouring rain eating sausage and mashed potato flakes that floated in a pool of greasy gravy while the woman at the next table changed her baby's diaper on the dining table and then threw the dirty diaper on the floor next to us so she could finish her meal!

But back to your ideal trip... enjoy a pleasant meal and retire for the night. The next morning you awake, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Having stayed so close to the Stonehenge site, you are the first to get there, and enjoy a peaceful half hour wandering among the stones, taking in the peace of the Salisbury Plains, before departing as the first tourist coaches arrive for the day.

We were lucky.

Here is how your day is more likely to go:

You stay in London, or perhaps the New Forest the night before. You wake, have a relaxed breakfast, and head to Salisbury. Several miles away, you suddenly stop, bogged down in traffic. Rush hour, perhaps? Nope. Stonehenge traffic. Forget looking at your map for an alternative route. If you are visiting in peak season, the roads are all backed up for several miles as tourists slow down to gawp, take pictures, and, if they're lucky, eventually reach the entrance to the parking lot. Locals must hate their daily commute with a passion.

Once you reach the site, you will be faced with a parking fee. If you pay to go into the attraction, this fee will be discounted off your ticket price. But the purpose of the fee is clearly to make sure that even those who want to stop, snap a picture, and maybe buy a souvenir without going in, still pay their share. So you decide to go in. You will pay what is really quite an exorbitant fee - £8 for adults - to see some rocks. Now don't get me wrong - Stonehenge is beautiful and historically significant, but it's much more beautiful on the postcards. Once you've paid your money, you realize that you are surrounded by hundreds of other tourists, all trying to get their pictures taken. Oh, and remember those images of it standing on an isolated plain? There are major roads running either side of the site. Peaceful reflection has been replaced by commercialism and hordes of people.

Where to go instead?

Woodhenge

Just a couple of miles down the road (but in the opposite direction of the Stonehenge-seeking traffic) is the far less well-known Woodhenge. Obviously the original wood has long since rotted away, to be replaced by concrete markers, and it is not as impressive visually as its stoney cousin. However, it is much more complete in layout, is virtually tourist free, offers wonderful views of the surrounding countryside, and is free.

Old Sarum

From there, head another couple of miles toward Salisbury for another English Heritage-owned site - Old Sarum. Entry is less than half the price of Stonehenge but I find the ruins of the fort much more interesting. The site once housed an Iron Age fort, which over the years, was rebuilt by Romans, Saxons, and Normans. In addition to viewing the remains of the castle which once stood here, you can also see the foundations of the area's original cathedral (while looking down at the more modern 12th century Salisbury Cathedral).

Foundations of the original cathedral

There are plenty of walking trails in and around the fort, offering stunning views on all sides.

Looking down across Salisbury and the Cathedral (home of the Magna Carta)

So ultimately, you could have a stressful time reaching an overcrowded and overpriced tourist attraction, or you could spend a few hours in a more relaxed, but just as interesting setting.

I know which one I'd choose.

Leiper's Fork, Tennessee

Continuing our non-country music visit to Nashville, just a short drive away is the historical town of Leiper's Fork. I have a liking for those little settlements that have now become havens for art galleries, antique shops, and weekend visitors, so this fit the bill perfectly.

Leiper's Creek Gallery

Not that I'll be spending much in any of the quaint galleries; the number of Lexuses and BMWs parked outside were an instant indicator that much of what I would find would be well beyond my price range.

Nevertheless, it's a charming little spot to browse, while away an hour or two, and enjoy a cold drink, not to mention engage in one of my favorite pastimes: people watching.

Spend an hour or two rocking on the porch at Leiper's Fork