The Pudong skyline, as seen from Shanghai's Bar Rouge.

In November of 2009, I traveled to mainland China for the first time. I’d been to Hong Kong and Singapore, so I thought I was up for tackling the very different reality of China. But  I was nervous – worried about being understood, reading the signs, finding my way to where I needed to go and even how Chinese people would react to having an American around. I came with all sorts of preconceived American notions of China and communism and what it all stood for. For while I’d lived outside my home country for five years and had traveled around the world, I had not been somewhere that seemed so foreign, so very different.

But Robert had business in Shanghai and I had an article to write. The first morning, I went up to the hotel concierge with my map of the city. “I’m going to be sightseeing on my own during the day. Can you show me what areas I should avoid, the places where it’s not safe for a woman to be on her own?”

“Shanghai safe. You go anywhere,” was the heavily accented reply.  Thinking that maybe the man did not understand me, I asked again. And I got the same reply. So I headed out with my handy hotel card, the one that on one side said take me to my hotel and gave the address in Mandarin. And the other side with a checklist in English and Mandarin of such attractions as Yu Garden, Oriental Pearl Tower and Xintiandi that I could hand to the white-gloved taxi driver.

On the first day, I went with a small tour group from the hotel to Yu Garden and a tea ceremony. I was fine. I could do this on my own, I thought. And I did. I spent two weeks with my map and guide book, touring on my own during the day, growing more and more confident with getting around, learning how to avoid the watch and bag hawkers on Nanjing Road and how to assemble a stir fry vegetable lunch from a street vendor and trying all the dumplings and other delicacies. In the evenings, I would show Robert the neighborhoods and places I thought he would like to see.

I loved the contrasts: glittering skyscrapers, elevated neon-let highways and luxury boutiques sit next to lanes with no indoor running water and street markets selling everything from kiminos and pearls to Chairman Mao bags and terracotta soldiers. Horn honking taxis and cars do battle for space on the roads with mopeds and bicycle carts laden with fruit.

Over lunch in a cafeteria at the Shanghai Museum, an old woman laughed at my attempts to eat the noodle soup with my chopsticks, then patiently, over and over again, showed me how to do it her way, speaking a steady stream of Mandarin that I understood not one word of. In the People’s Square, two university aged girls approached me shyly, with a smile, asking “You likee Shanghai? We takee picture with you?” As the only westerner in sight, I stood out. And these two wanted to be sure I was having a good time. I felt so very welcome.

But I missed my flight home to Stockholm and was rerouted to Beijing for two days. Robert had flown on to Japan and I was again on my own. The first night, I was put in an airport hotel with no other westerners, no one who understood English, no internet access, no TV. And I felt completely lost and miserable. So I called Robert who got on line and booked me a western hotel in central Beijing for the next night. I took a taxi there early the next morning, talked to the concierge and hired a driver for the day at a ridiculously low fee. Bit by bit, I was feeling better. Besides, I did not want to miss the chance to go outside of town to the Great Wall.

When I got there, the wall was lightly dusted with snow and just a little slippery. As it was November, it was the off season and I saw just one other small group of westerners. I felt lonely at first, but started climbing, stopping to take photos periodically and to admire the views. The further I walked, the fewer people that were around. It was glorious and I was so glad to be there. On my own. At one narrow section, I needed to get around an icy patch. Suddenly, a tiny elderly man was at my side, offering a smile and his hand to help me. I took it, even though I thought it was probably me who should help him.

Taking a cable car back down the mountain a few hours later, I had an entire car to myself. I couldn’t stop smiling. It  felt like I had just conquered my own Everest.

Here’s the second part of my favorite travel and life adventures of the year. And in case you missed it, here’s part one.

Hanging out in Stockholm's archipelago. And guess what, this photo was taken at midnight. Look at that light!

July: A summer house in the Swedish archipelago. We kicked off the month with an island getaway with friends. Not only did we have a great house, we had our own island. We even had to take a boat to get groceries. How cool is that? As our island was small, we spent a lot of time hanging out, eating good meals, drinking wine and just sitting in the sun. It was the most relaxing holiday I’ve ever taken. And the scenery was gorgeous too.

Stephansdom church in Vienna.

August: Mixing business with pleasure in Austria. We went to Innsbruck so I could attend the Travel Bloggers Unite conference for a little inspiration. We wandered around the old town, toured palaces and met a lot of talented travel writers.And of course, we ate a lot of delicious schnitzel and torte. We took the train to Vienna where the architecture and art are insanely beautiful and even the staircases were cool. Vienaa is one of the prettiest cities I’ve seen in a while and Innsbruck was charming too, what with the majestic alps surrounding it.

Hanging out on Kastellholmen in Stockholm.

September: Playing tour guide in Stockholm. My cousin Kara and her husband Jim came to visit, so I put on my cruise director hat and showed them around. I love doing that! On the itinerary was an adrenalin-filled fast tour of the archipelago, touring the old town, bicycling so as to easily island hop and share some of my favorite places in Stockholm. Of course, I had them try the local cuisine and beers too.

Looking across the rooftops of Dubrovnik.

October: Croatia – A summer paradise in the off season. Oh how we lucked out on this trip. Robert was speaking at a conference in Croatia, just outside of Split in Primošten and I, being a dutiful wife, tagged along. The weather was sunny and warm, our hotel was directly on the beach and our room overlooked the Adriatic Sea – this was off-season travel at its finest. We had some amazing local food and wine.  And just when I thought things couldn’t be better, we moved on to Dubrovnik. I absolutely was bowled over by the beauty of the old town and fell in love with a new part of the world.

In Cincinnati's Over-the Rhine, autumn color intersects with a holiday wreath.

November: An All-American Thanksgiving. For the first time in eight years, we had Thanksgiving in the US. I’d always felt like I was missing out on a major holiday while I lived in Sweden, even though we inevitably had a turkey dinner with friends, so it was good to be back in Cincinnati. For the record, we took part in sharing a 22-pound turkey with my parents, brothers and their families. On top of indulging in all that gluttony, I fell back in love with my hometown thanks in no small part to all the revitalization that has been going on over the last several years in the old neighborhoods.

Looking toward the holiday lights at Junibacken through the cafe windows of the Moderna Museum in Stockholm.

December: Spending the holidays at home. We were back in Stockholm by mid-December, just in time to decorate for and then celebrate our first-ever Christmas in Sweden after living here for seven years. As we look forward to where we will be in 2012 – and even whether we will still be in Stockholm at this time next year – it felt like the perfect place to be.

Gott slut as the Swedes would say, which means  ”good end” or have a good end of the year. In fact, there are a number of  rather perfect Swedish words for this time of year, also including god forsättning – or good continuation of the holidayys – either wishing you a continuing good continuation of Christmas from December 26th until December 30th or a good continuation of the new year from January 2-7.

The wide open space of the backroads Northern Ohio.

It’s that time once again when everyone feels compelled to look back on the year that is about to end. Far be it for me to be left out of a trend, so here’s a brief look back at my travels and other adventures. To not give you too much of an overload, I’ll cover January to June here and do a separate post on the rest of the year.

January: Back in Ohio.There’s something reassuring about going back to your roots, seeing family and friends, a  familiar landscape and shopping, happy in the knowledge that prices are so much lower than in Stockholm. Plus, the longer I am away, the more easily I can appreciate where I’m from. Robert and I spent Christmas in Cincinnati and new year’s in Port Clinton for the great walleye drop where yes, a giant fish is dropped at midnight to celebrate.

The view from our hotel room in Hobart, Tasmania.

February: Tasmania, Sydney, Canberra, Darwin and the Outback. What’s not to love about 1) Being in Australia in summer and 2) Leaving winter in Stockholm behind? After traveling for 37 hours, more than 10,000 miles through 9 time zones (I think) and five airports – including Stockholm, Helsinki, Hong Kong, Sydney and Hobart – we finally arrived in Tasmania. I loved seeing the brand-new MONA art museum there and this post continues to be one of my most read of the year. Sydney is always tops in my estimations, but in the Northern Territory, we encountered crocodiles, kangaroos, floods and cyclones, making this one of my most memorable trips of the year.

This is the first day of spring in Stockholm. The Baltic Sea is still frozen as you can see here and the snow keeps coming.

March: Living in the Arctic.  After already having had four solid months of continual snow, we got even more of the white stuff. After falling when I attempted to switch to regular boots outside, I wore snow boots every day. It seemed that I spent most of the month checking out new restaurants and bars and exploring the Soho-like neighborhood around me. Eating and drinking is really all you can do to cope with this relentless winter stuff. It’s a good thing I like snow.

Playing chess under the cherry blossoms at Kungsträgården in the center of Stockholm.

April: Transitions. At the beginning of the month, there was still snow and ice. Everywhere. By the end, the snow was finally gone and Stockholm was starting to bloom. I could be outside again without freezing or wearing snow boots. At last. I felt alive again, especially when the cherry blossoms came out at Kungsträdgården. And there were a lot of parties too, including one for Prince William’s royal wedding. I got a teenage thrill seeing Swedish band Peter, Bjorn and John in concert and getting to dance with lead singer Peter.

An escape to the middle of Sweden.

May: The Swedish countryside. Unbelievably, we got more snow at the beginning of the month. But it melted quickly and we moved on with spring. On a press trip into the middle of the country, I got back in touch with my Swedish side by staying in a manor house that was built in 1775, eating some fabulous husmanskost or home cooking – including reindeer, meatballs, salmon and cloudberries – sweating in the sauna and hiking in the forest with deer.

One of the many Amsterdam canals.

June: Amsterdam. I love this city more every time I visit it. Sure it’s got that rap for being seedy, what with its infamous red light district and coffee houses, but this place is so much more than that. Pretty canals, fantastic art museums, international cuisine, great live music, flower markets, tasty cheese and beer, charming architecture and alleyways – all of which can be easily explored by bike. It’s my kind of town. Back in Stockholm, we celebrated my favorite swedish holiday – midsommar – with snaps, herring, good friends and yes, we did do something called the frog dance.

Coming up in the next half of the year, the archipelago, Austria, Croatia and more.

Gordon Ramsay's Plane Picnic bag.

On our way home to Stockholm, we had a layover in London’s Heathrow airport. And you know what, it all went smoothly. We got through customs quickly and easily and except for having to watch some full plumber action by the guy in front of us in the screening line, I have to say it was one of the best big airport experiences I’ve had in a long time. Terminal five in one of the world’s craziest airports worked well for us. Go figure.

Our main course: roasted rump of Hereford beef with salad and mustard.

Even better, we had good airport food. We ate lunch at Gordon Ramsay Plane Food and our bowls of pumpkin soup were good. So tasty, in fact, that we decided to order the Plane Picnic to take with us for dinner. And it was good too, even though we opted not to eat it on the plane, but rather at home some five hours after we bought it.  It came with three courses: a starter, main and dessert and it was packed in a small carry-on bag, making it a perfect option to pick up if you don’t have time to stop for a meal while connecting flights.

Going one step further, I really did think I would be a bit grumpy by the time I got to Heathrow as we had the economy flight plan: Cincinnati to Chicago and then a five-hour delay, Chicago to London and a 2.5 hour delay. So I have to say that I love it that we had such a painless time in London.

Killing time at the Chicago airport with some crayons.

The last two days have been beautifully sunny and warm day here in Cincinnati –  62 degrees F or 16 C. Given that it’s the end of November and the Christmas holidays are fast approaching, this warm weather created an interesting clash of seasons and holidays. People were outside mowing their lawns and also putting up Christmas decorations: snowmen, reindeer, Santa Claus and lots of lights. Meanwhile, Halloween pumpkins and thanksgiving flags are still out too. It’s a funny overlap.

It happened again. For the third year in a row, we were delayed overnight on our way into Cincinnati. Last year, it was snow at Paris’s Charles de Gaulle. This time, it was fog at London’s Heathrow that kept us on the ground. We sat on the runway there for two hours. (And that was after having to wait for 45 minutes to leave Stockholm thanks to the fog.)

Even so, we could have made it on time for our connection from Miami to Cincinnati. (Yup, you heard that right. We had a layover in Miami. As in Florida. Doing so gave us a very good deal on our flights, but a very, very long trip.) But when we got to Miami, there was no gate ready for us. We waited. Then when we finally got to the gate, there was no ramp ready to connect the plane to the terminal. So we waited again. And when we got off the plane, we ran.

There was a huge line at customs. We waited, got through and ran again. We were at the baggage recheck at 9.20. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 9.20. While the flight was just starting to board, the bag guys referred us to the ticket counter instead of moving us on. The agents there wouldn’t let us on the flight. So we were rebooked for the next morning. And spent the night in Miami. There are worse places to be stuck. And now we are at last in Cincinnati.

We bought the most amazingly tasty mandarins here.

Fruit stands were lined up all along the road.

Most of the coastal landscape we’d been driving through was dry and rocky with olive groves and vineyards, so it was a surpirse to come along the River Neretva valley along the road from Dubrovnik to Split which was filled with green and fertile fields. Roadside stands sold the local bounty, including mandarins, garlic, grapes, figs and pomegranates, honey and olive oils. It was so beautiful we had to stop. And perhaps not surprisingly, we came home with a big a mandarins. They were so mouth-wateringly good that I ate three in the car.

And we also bought some of the mandarin honey.

The catch of the day in Dubrovnik.

A fishing boat in Primošten.

It’s funny, but even though Stockholm is on the Baltic Sea, I don’t think of it as a seaside, fresh fish eating town, but rather a salmon eating town. And of course, with herring, caviar and shrimp thrown in. I know, it’s all fish, so don’t tell me I’m all wrong about Stockholm. And I do eat all of the above mentioned fish here a lot. It’s good. But what I don’t seem to eat here is fresh grilled fish for some reason.

Seafood risotto in Primošten.

As we were in coastal Dalmatia – mostly in Primošten and Dubrovnik – fresh seafood was featured in most restaurants that we went to. Sole, John Dory, sea bass, octopus, squid, lobster, mussels, oysters and clams were all on the menu, as was something they liked to describe as small fish – anchovies. Most of the time, fish was grilled or broiled in olive oil, herbs and garlic. Often, a fish pate was served as a complimentary appetizer. Easy Italian cooking was also prominent, including risottos and pizzas, in particular. It was all pretty tasty.

The view from our table in Dubrovnik.

Dubrovnik from a kayak.

Notice my tense posture and inability to turn and smile for the camera, even in the not quite so wavy area.

As regular readers know, I am a huge fan of being on the water. Whether just sitting and looking at the sea or sailing, boating or kayaking on it, it’s all good by me. So I was thrilled when we rented a sea kayak to paddle around the cliffs of the old town. The  views were stunning. Just not quite gorgeous enough for me to last long in our tiny sea kayak with huge waves cresting, rolling and breaking around us and spilling over me in the front of the boat. But more about that scare and demanding to be taken ashore another time. Let’s just say that it was not one of my braver moments in life and that I did think that it was my worst nightmare come true for a moment or two. Or ten. Maybe I’ve gotten too used to the very calm Baltic Sea. For now, what I can say is that the Adriatic is beautiful and Dubrovnik from the sea is divine too.

All photos of Dubrovnik in this post copyright © 2011 Robert Corkery.

Looking over the rooftops of Dubrovnik.

Somehow, this fortress scene seemed like it should be in a James Bond movie.

Looking out at the walkway.

Last Monday, we spent the afternoon walking the fortress walls surrounding old town Dubrovnik. Not only were the views of the Adriatic Sea and rooftops of Dubrovnik spectacular, I also just plain enjoyed the walk. We started from the entry point near the Pile Gate and the Franciscan monastery and then climbed around above the city for a number of hours on top of the fortress walls – the guards’ old walkways. Built in the 10th century, the walls are 1,940 meters or 6,363 feet long and reach 25 meters or 82 feet high in some sections.

The old harbor.

Where we stopped for drinks.

Midpoint along the way, we stopped and had a glass of Croatian wine just below the walls on the cliff’s edge. Nice.

The Franciscan monastery tower.

The fortress.

Wine with a view. All photos © 2011 Sandra Carpenter.