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Costa Rica Beach Hotel Spa Resort & Yoga Retreat - Lodging Accommodations & Tours - Vacation Luxury Villas, Hotels & Houses at Tango Mar Costa Rica Vacation Costa Rica Beach Hotel, Golf Resort & Spa Luxury, Exclusive Accommodations & Nature Tours - Spa & Yoga Best of Hotels, Villas and Vacation Houses & Rentals Welcome to the Tango Mar Beach Hotel, Golf Resort, Spa & Yoga Retreat website - a Costa Rica favorite, luxury vacation holiday destination. If you can read this page, your browser does not support frames. Please use the links below to navigate the site to see our hotel resort, spa, and residential community with rental villas, houses, tropical gardens, and wildlife. Make Tango Mar your next tropical vacation holiday, or come to our community to live or retire. Please visit our honeymoon and wedding pages, and our new expanded Costa Rica tours section. Tango Mar - Best of Costa Rica Hotels and Resorts, and the Temptation Island II filming location. We hope to see you soon! Management and Staff of Tango Mar Information about Tango Mar Beach Hotel and Golf Resort Community and Country Club Gourmet Costa Rica restaurant at vacation resort Tango Mar Costa Rica Golf course, Nicoya Peninsula, near Barcelo Resort, Tambor Costa Rica Vacation maps and how to get to Resort Tango Mar Tango Mar - a private ecological resort near Curu Biological Reserve and Cabo Blanco Nature Reserve. Vacation packages, all inclusive, green season, discount package at our hotels Costa Rica Honeymoon Vacation Wedding Packages For Sale - Beach lots, view properties, lots, and golf course homes - real estate houses and villas. Hotel Rates, Tango Mar Reservations for Villa Rentals & Houses Things to do, recreation and activities at the Tango Mar. Tango Mar Reservations, online bookings for our hotel, Villas and Houses. Costa Rica beach hotel, beachfront lodging accommodations, villas & houses Costa Rica Tours, Jungle Tours, Adventure Tours, Nature Tours Adventure tours, horseback riding, birdwatching, snorkeling, mountain bike riding, sportfishing and deep sea fishing. Costa Rica vacation rentals - luxury beachfront villas, houses, homes on the beach Tango Mar Community homeowner newsletter - retire at a beach and golf resort in Costa Rica Costa Rica Vacation & Honeymoon Beach Hotel Resort Tango Mar - Lodging Accommodations Costa Rica Spa Resort - Costa Rica Yoga, Meditation, Instruction Ile de la tentation - 4 Tango Mar Hotel / Resort - Lo Major de los Hoteles, Resortes en Costa Rica Contents, Costa Rica Holiday Information

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Travel Stories - My European Vacation Home Hostels Tours InfoZone Community Home » Community » Travel Stories » My European Vacation MyAccount | Support Centre | Site Map In the Community... Community Home Travel Diaries Start a new Diary Travel Stories Travel Gurus Message Boards Log In Log in to your account to review past bookings, change your profile, become a travel guru and much more. Email: Password: Forgot your password? Not a member? Sign up here The ULTIMATE backpacker information exchange Travel Stories • Backpackers! Adventure Calling.. • The Shrimp Tax • Sleeping in Pamplona • Chile, the country and Santiag.. • Road to No Man's Land • Run Through the Jungle: • Andorra's Box • Mexico - 48 hours in Puerto Es.. • More Travel Stories Our Price Promise We offer you the best internet rate made available by the hostel. We do not mark up this rate so you can be confident that booking here is as cheap as it gets! close window lowest prices guaranteed Read Our Price Promise We accept the following cards Travel Stories My European Vacation By Denise Cassino I finally finished reading the last page of Micheners novel The Drifters, a story about six young people traveling through Europe in the late sixties. I closed the book and bit my bottom lip. I simply had to find a way to go to Europe. My heart ached with a yearning to see the world. I had been an English major/history minor in college and had studied the continent for years. Now I was determined to see them first hand. I contacted my old college roommate, Ellen, and set a plan I quit my job, borrowed $500 to supplement my savings and flew off to Europe for a six-week sojourn. We were nearing the end of a near perfect trip with only a week or so remaining before I would head for home. We had driven The Romantic Road through Germany, partaken in the revelry of Oktoberfest in Munich, woven our way through the high peaks of the Alps in a VW bus, ridden a Gondola across the Grand Canal in Venice, stared at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and even had a brief romance with two American brothers. Ellen had been forced by the powers that ruled her pocketbook to return home two weeks earlier than me, and now I was traveling with an affable Australian girl named Robyn who we had met in Venice and had previously been a solo traveler. Now, the two of us stood on the port side of the huge ship and gazed out from the top deck at the starlit sky above the Port of Barcelona and the Mediterranean Sea. A statue of Cristobal Columbo (Christopher Columbus) peered down at us as we swore to sate our wanderlust ever after and reveled in our high adventure. We were on our way to the Balearic Islands, the island of Ibiza, to be exact, (pronounced Ibitha to the well-traveled tourist) and had secured a cabin on the ship for the nights trip. The ship and cabin were Spartan, and at first light, we disembarked and set foot on terra firma. The island, which had been touted as the happening spot for young people, was tiny and, aside from the ancient fortress and village around a small seaport, was mainly dry, brushy and agricultural. We wandered down the narrow, cobblestone streets amidst the tourists and the locals who were going about the business of daily living, baskets on their shoulders and bicycles laden with goods. The smiling proprietors of small cafes beckoned weary wayfarers like us to partake of their fine wine and vittles Hola, Senoritas! As the day wore on, our backpacks grew heavy and we stopped at a hand-painted sign offering a room. A dark Spanish woman, swarthy and a bit thick through the middle, took us through a door that opened directly off the street and then up a steep staircase. At the top was a small, Spartan foyer with four or five doors presumably leading to guest rooms. She opened a set of flimsy double doors, which didnt quite meet in the middle due to some sort of chopping at the space between them. The gap was now about three quarters of an inch wide and would have revealed to anyone who chose to look, the entire contents and characters within (along with the content of their characters, perhaps). To prevent just such chicanery a faded piece of cloth was hung on the inside of the door - a curtain, as it were. We surveyed the room with a jaded eye having already experienced the drill of expecting more from a room than we ever got during our extended tour of Europe. This one was a bargain at a buck and a half per night and was worth every peseta. The plaster was chipping and the chenille bedspreads were mismatched and worn. The curtains on the door that led to a small balcony overlooking the main street had seen better days, but we paid the small sum and dropped our packs to rest our travel-weary bodies while we sipped some local red wine. As evening approached our tummies rumbled so we changed into our other set of clothing and headed for the nearest restaurant for some more vino and una comida. Robin had discovered an interesting spot in Europe on $5 a day, so we located it and ventured in for dinner. A loaf of hot, homemade bread and a steaming bowl of succulent Paella filled with sumptuous shrimp, clams and rice were placed before us by a smiling Spanish waiter, and we ate with gusto, juice dripping down our chins. Soon after dinner, our explorations led us to an American style discotheque complete with black lights and flashing neon. We worked our way through the crowd looking for a seat and managed to squeeze into a spot near the bar to watch the tourists mingle with the locals. Scantily clad bodies gyrated to the beat of the outdated American tunes that blasted from the rickety jukebox. We Americans tourists stood out in a crowd with our sturdy walking shoes and nondescript clothing. I had packed two pairs of trousers, two sweaters, two tee-shirts, five pair of underpants, three pairs of socks and a down coat. My hair was cut as short as it had ever been for the ease of sink shampoos in cold water. Robyn looked like a Spaniard with thick, dark hair and tawny skin and a Rubenesque figure. Our apparel only seemed to draw attention to us, and we moved uneasily away from the gaze of more than one dark stranger who seemed to be assessing his prey. We mingled as only young twenty-something girls can do meeting an array of people ranging from strange to fascinating and by 2am or so my body begged for sleep. I said goodnight and left Robyn in the company of several young men and wandered back the short distance to the room (okay, maybe I staggered a little) and flopped into the lumpy bed for a deep doze enhanced by the abundance of red wine I had imbibed. Not long after, I was awakened suddenly by Robyns harsh Aussie whisper in my ear. Wake up! Wake up! Someones trying to break into our room! I jumped up rather unsteadily and approached the door with my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I beat against the door with my fist and hollered, Go away, get out of here! Who knows, in the heat of the moment, I may even have shouted Vamoose! Silence. We looked at one another and reluctantly crawled back into bed leaving the light on, hoping the would-be intruder had vanished into the night. But soon, I awoke to bloodcurdling screams coming from Robyn who sat bolt upright in her bed. I sat up and began screaming too, and saw a dark man turn and flee from the room leaving the two doors wide open and the curtain inside flapping between them. We continued to scream for a few more rounds until an Englishman arrived at our door dressed only in thin, cotton pants. What is the problem? he asked in his clipped British accent while rubbing his eyes. We saw . . . there was . . . someone tried . . . we panted breathlessly as we managed to reveal our plight and cause for such abject terror. He listened patiently and then said, It was probably just some Spaniard trying to rape you. Is that so terrible? We were stunned by his stiff upper lip approach to this whole scenario, but were deeply grateful when he offered to leave his two huge dogs with us for the remainder of the night. Stay, he said and they curled up between the two beds and went to sleep. However, we lay awake, eyes wide, contemplating who, why, when and where, terrified that the stranger would return to rape and pillage. We couldnt wait for morning when we quickly packed our belongings and departed. We ventured warily into the street, scanning each face wondering about the stranger who might recognize and be following us, but whom we would not recognize if we fell over him. We found some good American fellows we had met the night before and told them of our intruder. They quickly offered to share their room until the ship returned two days later, and we slept on the floor of their room, honest! Thoughts ran wildly through our minds as we relived the horrifying experience, but the only viable answer we found was that perhaps the man had followed Robyn from the disco thinking she was alone. When he burst into the room, hit the curtain and was assailed by two screaming banshees, he likely panicked and fled, forgetting his original intent. By the time the ship was ready to depart, we were exhausted and more than ready to say goodbye to the little island that had become little more than a frightening place. As I lay in my berth aboard ship that night chasing sleep, a tiny gnawing pain had begun to grow in the pit of my stomach. When we arrived in Barcelona, chills and fever had replaced the pain, but I persevered. We were anxious to board the overnight train to Paris but soon found ourselves sharing a small sleeping compartment with four other people of mixed race and gender. I was in the middle berth with my head near the door. As passengers entered the compartment, their faces were at my eyelevel, and I could smell their body odor and garlic breath, which only worsened my condition. I rotated from one end of the bed to the other where I could open the window and breathe a bit of fresh air. As the chills shook me, I donned all my clothing from my backpack only to quickly remove them as the fever and sweats returned. By the time we reached Paris, I had a full- blown case of the touristas, otherwise known as amoebic dysentery. Well, I wont go into the sordid details of the last few days of my trip. Lets just say, given the quality and texture of Parisian toilet paper, I was very glad when the morning came for me to board a train to Luxembourg for my flight home. I said goodbye to Robyn, descended the five flights of stairs at the Hotel Cluny on the left bank of the Seine and ventured out to hail a cab. I hailed and waved and shouted, but none stopped. Finally, I returned to the room where Robyn informed me that I must go to a cabstand, but now I had missed my train and, possibly, my flight home. My only choice was a plane. Low on funds, I borrowed the necessary amount for airfare from Robyn. Once aboard the transatlantic flight, I watched with empathy and pity a poor girl lying across three seats, literally green from her trip across the English Channel in a boat. With problems of my own, I dozed and dreamed of all the foods I couldnt wait to indulge in when I got back to the States, dysentery be damned. We played the food game with many of the Americans we met on our trip. Some wanted a grilled beefsteak with French fries; others craved bacon and eggs. I longed for my mothers juicy meatloaf and a crispy baked potato with butter. When my 8-hour flight finally landed, I was met by my mother and step-dad to whom I must have written at least two postcards during my six-week adventure. As we climbed in the car, my mom turned to me and said, I hope youre hungry. Ive got meatloaf and baked potatoes for dinner. I sighed with pleasure and snuggled happily into the back seat, wondering if it was just a fluke or a classic case of mothers intuition. 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France Travel

france travel vacations France Tourism Home World Tourism AfghanistanTourism - Albania Tourism - AlgeriaTourism - Andorra Tourism - AngolaTourism - Antigua and Barbuda Tourism - ArgentinaTourism - Armenia Tourism - AustraliaTourism - Austria Tourism - AzerbaijanTourism - Bahamas Tourism - BahrainTourism - Bangladesh Tourism - BarbadosTourism - Belarus Tourism - BelgiumTourism - Belize Tourism - BhutanTourism - Bolivia Tourism - Bosniaand Herzegovina Tourism - BotswanaTourism - Brazil Tourism - BritishVirgin Islands Tourism - BulgariaTourism - Cambodia Tourism - Canada Tourism - CaymanIslands Tourism - Chad Tourism - ChileTourism - China Tourism - ColombiaTourism - Comoros Tourism - CroatiaTourism - Cuba Tourism - CyprusTourism - Czech Republic Tourism - DominicaTourism - Dominican Republic Tourism - DenmarkTourism - Ecuador Tourism - EgyptTourism - El Salvador Tourism - EstoniaTourism - Ethiopia Tourism - FijiTourism - Finland Tourism - FranceTourism - Georgia Tourism - GermanyTourism - Ghana Tourism - GreeceTourism - Grenada Tourism - GuyanaTourism - Haiti Tourism - HondurasTourism - Hungary Tourism - IcelandTourism - India Tourism - IndonesiaTourism - Iraq Tourism - IranTourism - Ireland Tourism - IsraelTourism - Italy Tourism - IvoryCoast Tourism - JamaicaTourism - Japan Tourism - Jordan Tourism - KazakstanTourism - Kuwait Tourism - KyrgyzstanTourism - Laos Tourism - LatviaTourism - Lebanon Tourism - LibyaTourism - Lithuania Tourism - LuxembourgTourism - Madagascar Tourism - MaldivesTourism - Mauritania Tourism - MauritiusTourism - Mexico Tourism - MoldovaTourism - Mongolia Tourism - NepalTourism - Netherlands Tourism - NewZealand Tourism - Nicaragua Tourism - NigeriaTourism - North Korea Tourism - NorwayTourism - Oman Tourism - PakistanTourism - Panama Tourism - PapuaNew Guinea Tourism - Paraguay Tourism - PeruTourism - Philippines Tourism - PolandTourism - Portugal Tourism - QatarTourism - Romania Tourism - RussiaTourism - Saudi Arabia Tourism - SerbiaTourism - Seychelles Tourism - SingaporeTourism - Slovakia Tourism - SloveniaTourism - Somalia Tourism - SouthAfrica Tourism - South KoreaTourism - Spain Tourism - Sri Lanka Tourism - St.Kitts and Nevis Tourism - St. LuciaTourism - Sudan Tourism - Sweden Tourism - SwitzerlandTourism - Syria Tourism - TajikistanTourism - Thailand Tourism - Trinidadand Tobago Tourism - Turkey Tourism - TurkmenistanTourism - Turks and Caicos IslandsTourism - Uganda Tourism - United Arab Emirates Tourism - UnitedKingdom Tourism - United StatesTourism - Uruguay Tourism - Uzbekistan Tourism - VenezuelaTourism - Vietnam Tourism Due to the nature of the topic and the wide range of information available, in order to cover only a tiny bit of it properly, some of the websites included here may have a commercial element in addition to the excellent information they provide. Such inclusion does not constitute an endorsement of product or service by archaeolink.com. Sites are included for information value only. The number of sites available online for this topic is enormous. This site can not and does not index all travel resources for a country. These "tourism" pages are basically designed as a supplement to the France Social Studies links rather than for the avid business or pleasure traveler. For those of you for whom this "supplementary" material is not enough, the following does provide some idea of what is available online and will hopefully be a good starting point for a more serious search. All about Paris in English __ A wide ranging website covering aspects of the city from find dining to medical care. You will find an interactive map, sections about Parisian life and culture, history, general tourism information and much more. - illustrated - From france.jeditoo.com - http://france.jeditoo.com/IleDeFrance/Paris/paringlish.html France __ "The French wrote the book on la vie en rose and gave the world champagne and camembert, de Beauvoir and Debussy, the Tour de France and the Tour Eiffel. There's a term for their seductive lifestyle - Douce France (Sweet France) and you'll find yourself using it often." - illustrated - From Lonelyplanet.com - http://www.lonelyplanet.com/destinations/europe/france/ France Guide.com, the Tourist Office WebSite for Tourism in France __ You will find a great look at France and tour opportunities. Learn about festivals and other events, where to go and stay, what to do and much more. Just select the country you are traveling from and you will find information just for you. - illustrated - From franceguide.com - http://www.franceguide.com/prehome.asp France tourism - France vacation reviews __ Wide ranging general interest page about French tourism including hotel recommendations, sights to see and things to do. - illustrated - From tripadvisor.com - http://www.tripadvisor.com/Tourism-g187070-France-Vacations.html FranceWay, France homepage, travel, culture __ "A site dedicated to promoting what France has to offer. Explore anything from French culture and regions to the best of where to eat and sleep." - illustrated - From franceway.com - http://www.franceway.com/welcome.htm French Tourist Office __ Official travel website. You will find all you need to know to plan a business trip or vacation. - illustrated - From French Tourist Office - http://www.francetourism.com/ IgoUgo: France Tourism, Things To Do In France __ You will find a series of journals written by real travelers giving their impressions and recommendations. - illustrated - From igougo.com - http://www.igougo.com/planning/journalRegion.asp?LocationID=173 IgoUgo: Paris Tourism __ See above - illustrated - From igougo.com - http://www.igougo.com/planning/journal.asp?JournalID=38457 Paris Convention and Visitors Bureau __ If your trip is of a business nature, planning a group event, or if you just want to have fun, there is information here to help you do it all. - illustrated - From Paris Convention and Visitors Bureau - http://www.paris-touristoffice.com/index_va_v2.html Paris travel __ "Paris stimulates the senses, demanding to be seen, heard, touched, tasted and smelt. From romance along the Seine to landscapes on bus-sized canvases to the pick-an-ism types in cafes monologuing on the use of garlic or the finer points of Jerry Lewis, Paris is the essence of all things French." - illustrated - From Lonelyplanet.com - http://www.lonelyplanet.com/destinations/europe/paris/ Paris Travel and Tourism Guide __ You will find several articles about Parisian tourism. - from About.com - http://goeurope.about.com/od/paris/ Web archaeolink.com Top of Page

Taiwan Travel Stories (

Motorcycles and Madness in Taiwan - Taiwan - Taiwan Travel Stories :: BootsnAll Travel Network Visit other BootsnAll sites: BootBlog | Bali | London | Australia | Written Road | Travel News Daily Home | Ask an Insider | Members Forum Plane Tickets | Youth Hostels | RTW Guide About Us | Advertising | Contact | RSS | Staff First Time Visitor? By John Matthews Motorcycles and Madness in Taiwan Taiwan It was a beautiful clear morning, and the path to adventure lay before us. The plan was simple. Travel down the west coast of Taiwan, cut across a small mountain range up the east coast, across another mountain range, and home again. Our trusty steed In the area of equipment, economy was important. I had the biggest and most powerful motorbike the average person in Taiwan could buy - 150cc. To this was strapped a tent, sleeping mats, sleeping bags, cooking equipment, food and girlfriend. At a top speed of about 80 - 90 km per hour, we were not going to break any land speed records. Taiwan is best known for computers, but a little known wonder is the natural beauty of the place. Running up the middle of the island is a majestic mountain range. The range is truly spectacular. Leaving the east coast, and the majority of people and factories, also means leaving the thick smog filled air. When first arriving on the east coast, the scenery is spectacular. Mountains reach right down to the sea. The sea is an aqua blue, clean and clear. Without doubt one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Camping is no problem in Taiwan, especially if you have some trouble with the local language. First stop on the plan was Jrben (zurben). This area is famous for hot springs. A lot of people camp in Taiwan, but few of them venture far from the amenities. Once you find a river, not in flood, you are virtually left on your own to the tranquil sounds of the water and the wildlife. Jrben hot spring Taiwan is also well known for its earthquakes. Effects of this instability are the hot springs. There is nothing more soothing after a days ride on a motorbike, then to sit in the heavily mineralised waters of the hot springs. You can choose from the very commercial bathing areas or the natural settings, where the water bubbles up from the source itself. It's the perfect treat for the weary traveller. Part two of the journey saw us travel up the coast to meet the mountain range, and start the long journey home. Travelling anywhere in the region of China and some parts of Asia during the Chinese New Year is not a good idea. In Taiwan most of the country is on the move. Stopping for supplies on the way into the mountains, we spoke to the local shop owner. All he could say in his broken English was "careful, be careful". What could he mean? It wasn't long before we found out. In the centre of the mountain pass was a famous gorge, a nice place to set up and camp for the night and split the journey. Or so we thought. The road snaked its way up heading towards this gorge we had heard about. Arriving, we found just that, a gorge that you could see from a large bridge, but nowhere to camp. On the map it looked like we were about halfway through the mountains. The road continued to make its way up the mountains Two hours later there was still no end to the climb. The road conditions had taken a turn for the worse just in time for the traffic to increase. Being earthquake country, at times half the road was missing. This part of Taiwan was also famous for landslides and in some places the road had been devastated. This seemed of no consequence to the Taiwanese. They came in large numbers, and at great speeds, and on any part of the road that seemed to feel most comfortable. In Taiwan there is an unwritten hierarchy for traffic. It goes in size. Trucks and buses first, cars, and then of course the lowly motorcycles, scooters and bicycles. The consequences of this were that an approaching car would never move over for a motorcycle. Given that the road clings to the side of the mountain, it was a very dangerous dance. On one side was a two-foot wall with at least a drop of a kilometre and the other was the grand prix circuit for Taiwan. Stopping outside a roadside restaurant, searching the skyline and the impossible height of the mountains, we looked for the pass that would take us through to the other side. Upon leaving, the road climbed and climbed. There was no pass. We were going straight over the top. Mountain view Just when you thought that things could get no worse, they did. The temperature dropped about ten degrees. At the top the view was spectacular, not quite risking your life for, but very spectacular. Legend had it that many people died making the road. Local people said that before the weeklong holiday was finished there would be a few more. Riding for three hours and covering less than a hundred kilometres, all that lay ahead was a damp dark tunnel and the other side of the mountain. The road stayed in its normal condition, narrow and falling off the mountain. The traffic however increased significantly. On at least five occasions, a head on collision with a car or truck was only seconds away. If the tinge of fear had not set up camp in the pit of my stomach, then the smell of leaking brake fluid made the tent look like a house. Luck being on our side - it rained. The journey down the other side of the mountain range took another three to four hours. Dismounting at the first town, lips caressed the ground in heart-felt thanks. Chinese New Year brought out the celebrations in people. That meant firecrackers, and lots of them. There goes the restful nights sleep. Waking found us lying in the salted pools again, before making our way home in the driving rain. What could be the moral of the story? My recommendation is this. If you want to enjoy the beauty of Taiwan's mountains, run a bath throw in some salts and connect to the net. This article was added to BootsnAll on March 01, 2001 | Permanent Link Got an opinion? Share your thoughts on this article . More BootsnAll articles like this: Asia ( tag ) Asia Travel Stories ( tag ) China ( tag ) China Travel Stories ( tag ) John Matthews ( tag ) NE Asia ( tag ) NE Asia Travel Stories ( tag ) Taiwan ( tag ) Taiwan Travel Stories ( tag ) Book It! RTW Air Tickets (round-the-world) Plane Tickets (round-trip and one-way) Search for Hotels Rental Cars Youth Hostels Eurail Passes Travel Insurance Adventure Travel & Tours Travel Bookstore TEFL Courses Airport Parking GSM Phone Rental Travel Visas Newsletter Sign up for any or all of BootsnAll's newsletters. Why should you sign-up? Newsletter Sign-Up (enter your e-mail) Research It! 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