Destination: New York City

US Airways Plane Crashes Into Hudson River

All 155 people on board survived. The Airbus 320 apparently had just taken off from LaGuardia when it hit one or more birds, causing engine trouble. A dramatic rescue ensued. Reports the AP: “The plane was submerged in the icy waters up to the windows, and rescue crews had opened the door and were pulling passengers in yellow life vests from the plane.”


Watching for the City Limits

New York City from above REUTERS/Jason Reed

The sight of the New York City skyline used to transfix Emma Jacobs -- until routine dulled her senses.

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Seven Great Time-Lapse Travel Videos

Jim Benning sifts through YouTube's accelerated videos to find the seven best

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Are Travel Writers the Next Great Competitive Eaters?

matt gross Matt Gross. Photo by Jean Liu.
Matt Gross. Photo by Jean Liu.

I once wrote a story about taking a competitive eater out to three buffet lunches in as many days to see how much he could eat. At the Indian buffet, 400-pound Eric “Badlands” Booker (then the third-ranked competitive eater in the world) proved he was born to indulge. By the 12th trip up to the buffet (I’m not kidding), the restaurant manager pointed out the dessert options, a subtle suggestion that it was time to retire his fork for the day. “Just for that,” Badlands said to me, “I’m going up for more after I finish this plate!”

At the all-you-can-eat sushi the next day, he consumed so much food we had a crowd around our table watching as he put the plate to his mouth and scooped the fish with his chopsticks right down his throat. At the Brazilian steakhouse the final day, Badlands received handshakes form the waiters for his eating prowess.

But I didn’t really know gluttony until a recent outing with writer Matt Gross.

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Where We’re Eating: New York, Czech Republic


Morning Links: T-Shirt Justice, Route 66’s International Appeal and More

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Morning Links: Roman Gladiators, Michelin Guides, Prehistoric Airports and More


Morning Links: Wynn’s Encore, a ‘Sadistic’ Geography Quiz and More


Pigging Out

Pigging Out Photo: the_toe_stubber via Flickr, (Creative Commons)
Photo: the_toe_stubber via Flickr, (Creative Commons)

David Sedaris put it best in Me Talk Pretty One Day when he recalled meeting his boyfriend and eventually settling in France: “I wound up in Normandy the same way my mother wound up in North Carolina: you meet a guy, relinquish a tiny bit of control, and the next thing you know, you’re eating a different part of the pig.”

It’s true—at least about the pig part: I once watched a sow get slaughtered in the Czech hinterlands and the first offerings turned out to be the beast’s brains, followed by its heart, its blood (as soup), and, finally, fried nuggets of pig fat. But I’d never encountered such parts on the menus of restaurants in the United States. That is, until now.

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Morning Links: Idlewild Books, Disaster Tourism and More

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Movie Tourism: ‘An Obsessively Ridiculous, Embarrassing, Empty, and Needy Exercise’?

Movie Tourism: ‘An Obsessively Ridiculous, Embarrassing, Empty, and Needy Exercise’? Photo by kennymatic via Flickr (Creative Commons)
Photo by Eva Holland

I’ve been thinking lately about the motivations behind movie tourism—not the “Wow, New Zealand sure looked beautiful in that elf movie” variety, but the literal, “X was filmed here” brand of movie-related travel. What is it that prompts people to run up the steps, Rocky-style, in Philadelphia, or to slide into a booth at New York’s Katz’s Deli and gigglingly declare, “I’ll have what she’s having”?

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Dirt Candy, Anyone?

Hi there. I’m David Farley, World Hum’s resident food blogger. World Hum asked me to cover dining and food after recently watching me consume food and drink with eyebrow-raising fury at a New York restaurant. When I was young—we’re talking five and six years old—I received constant accolades from my mom for my eating prowess. And while I’m not necessarily in the same league with, say, Andrew Zimmern, I’ll still try just about anything at least once. Which means I’ve eaten everything from insects to the innards of large mammals. But when it comes to food, I can be quite the fancy boy (I love foie gras) and completely unfussy (I also love burgers and fried chicken).

With that behind me, Dirt Candy, anyone?

You can’t judge a book by its cover, so should you judge a restaurant by its name? Probably not. But would you want to eat at a vegetarian restaurant called Dirt Candy? Metromix recently named the worst-named new restaurants in New York.


Morning Links: ‘Ugly American’ Ad, World’s Best Hotels and More


Emergency Rations: Lessons From a 16-Hour Amtrak Ride

Emergency Rations: Lessons From a 16-Hour Amtrak Ride Photo by salimfadhley via Flickr (Creative Commons)
Photo by salimfadhley via Flickr (Creative Commons)

I have this theory about successful budget transit: that the key to surviving a cross-country Greyhound ride, or a bargain-basement flight with three changes (all in small regional airports without so much as a Starbucks, naturally) is to never, ever be caught without a snack. After all, the only thing worse than being forced to buy, and eat, that simultaneously-stale-and-soggy packaged tuna sandwich at the truck stop is not having the option of eating anything at all. Right?

I first started packing what I think of as my “emergency rations” on a trip to India several years ago. The granola bars I’d stuffed into every corner of my backpack were handy on long train rides—and after I (inevitably) got sick, they became invaluable, my sole source of nutrition until I could stand to contemplate curry again. That success led to more advanced efforts: I can still remember the looks I got from other passengers when I boarded a Halifax-Montreal overnight train with an enormous Tupperware full of cold stir fry under my arm. But my habit of packing lunch didn’t evolve into a full-blown theory until one fateful Amtrak ride, from New York to Montreal, around this time last year.

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World Hum’s Restless Legs Reading

World Hum teamed up with Restless Legs Reading Series host and World Hum contributor David Farley in New York City for a night of readings for the wanderlust stricken.

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