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If you missed yesterday’s Boston Globe, I was interviewed by writer Brion O’Connor and asked to divulge some of my favorite locals jaunts in winter. Strolling Broadmoor, World’s End, Arnold Arboretum, Walden Pond, and Mt. Auburn Cemetery; skiing Wachusett; tubing Nashoba; even frostbite sailing with the Boston Sailing Center made it into the story. Have a look! 
Those hoping to hit the New England slopes this Christmas and New Year’s will be happy to know that the region already has a great base thanks to recent winter storms. We skied Okemo this weekend and the conditions were the best we’ve ever experienced in mid-December. 105 of the 121 trails were open, groomed hard packed powder. No icy patches! The cross-country skiing was also excellent, especially on the Deer Run trail, where the snowed-over pines formed a tunnel next a running river. Other highlights include trying the new high-speed, six-pack bubble chairlift with heated seats, the first of its kind in North America, taking an exhilarating run on the Timber Ripper Mountain Coaster, and tasting those fresh baked waffles dipped in chocolate. Yummy!
On our first full day in Cape Town, Lisa and I took the sage advice of a South African art collector and hired Stephen Long as our guide for the day. Stephen is well known in the Cape Town arts community (and to the shaman of the Eastern Cape) as one of the most renowned bead dealers in the region. Many of the beads you find in the beadwork of South African art is actually imported from Venice, the Czech Republic, and now China. Our first stop was the South African National Gallery, where we viewed activist art created during the oppressive apartheid regime. One of the most disturbing pieces is the three life-sized figures with horns and no mouths called The Butcher Boys, created in plaster by Jane Alexander.
Then it was time see some of the impressive local crafts found in the city. The Gallery Shop, on bustling Church Street (48), is a gem of a small store selling colorfully beaded jewelry, sculpture, wall hangings, pillowcases, and more. Owner Lorin Strieman used to run the gift shop at the Natioanl Gallery and she has a great eye for contemporary South African craft. It’s hard not to purchase all the whimsical beaded animals at Monkeybiz. The pieces were created by impoverished, HIV-positive women who were trained as artists to make a living. It was wonderful to walk upstairs and see all these women sitting together and laughing while creating art. Just as alluring is the work at Streetwires, where sculpture of all sizes is created by wire and bead. Like Monkeybiz, you can walk upstairs to see the large group of artists at work. Bags in hand from all the goods we purchased, we visited the colorful houses and mosques found in the nearby Bo-Kaap neighborhood still home to a large Cape Malay population. All of our purchases are now back at our house, cherished from our memorable day with Stephen. We’re happy to pass along his contact information to anyone who’s interested in hiring him for the day.
When I last skied Le Massif and penned a story on the mountain for The Boston Globe, I took a train from Montmorency Falls, just outside Quebec City. I learned last night at a Quebec press event in Boston that the train no longer runs in winter. However, you can still take the Ski Bus, which picks you up at your hotel in Quebec City and drops you off at Mont-Saint-Anne and Le Massif. Skiing down the trails of Le Massif, overlooking the expanse of the St. Lawrence Seaway, you feel like you’re going to plunge straight into the water. Le Massif also offers guests the rare chance to go rodeling or luging down a 7.5-kilometer trail on the northern face of the mountain. The exhilarating two-hour trip starts with a snowcat ride to the top of the trail, where you’re handed a small sled. Then you start cruising downhill, curving around banks, and sweeping over hills, all with that same glorious view of the St. Lawrence. It’s a blast!
From the shores of Lake Geneva, or Lac Léman as the Swiss call it, to the forest and duck pond of Lac de Sauvabelin, the city of Lausanne climbs an impressive 800 feet. You climb uphill or downhill on an Escher-like maze of stairwells, narrow cobblestone streets, bridges, even elevators and escalators. Last night, I took an elevator close to my hotel, the Lausanne Palace, down to the former warehouse district of Flon, now a Tribeca-like neighborhood of hip restaurants like Le Nomade and popular dance clubs like Mars. It’s quite strange to take an elevator down to another neighborhood, but Lausanne is full of surprises, from the massive Gothic cathedral consecrated in 1275 to Jean Dubuffet’s fascinating Art Brut collection, created for the most part by people who are ingenious or simply insane (I’ll delve into this further tomorrow).
June through September has always been prime time for going on safari in Tanzania, especially if you want to catch the wildebeest migration across the Mara River. I’ve caught the migration from the Kenya side of the river one September as the wildebeests were making their way back south to the Serengeti. Yes, it was exciting seeing hundreds of wildebeests trampling across the river, but it wasn’t as nearly as exciting as seeing that one leopard bringing his kill up a tree. You have to realize that June, July, and August are by far the most crowded months to be on safari in Tanzania and Kenya. Crowds and land rovers lessen once September hits. Indeed, September and October are a special time of year to be on safari in the Mara, Serengeti, or Grumeti. Though I have to admit that I enjoyed being in Tanzania these past two weeks of March. The big rains of March and April were nowhere to be seen and we had the often congested roads of Ngorongoro Crater practically to ourselves. Travel to the Kusini Camp in the southern Serengeti in December, January, and February, and not only will you see an incredible amount of game, but North Americans and Europeans can escape the cold of winter and hit Zanzibar and the other coastal islands for a beach vacation. That sounds like the right move for this Boston boy.