I could wax poetic about the tomato, but Neruda has me beat—not that he's the only lycopene-lover to celebrate the fruit. This summer, tomato season is flush with festivals from Buñol, Spain to Bradley County, Arkansas, and cities will be celebrating the "star of earth" in their own special ways.

If you’ve ever wanted to stroll the Champs-Élysées sans the honking, hulking madness that is Parisian traffic, now’s your chance: more than seven acres of plants will carpet the boulevard today through Monday as part of Gad Weil’s Nature Capitale project.

If you've never been to a car race, it can be hard to imagine the appeal of something like the Indianapolis 500. But it's the little things that lock it in--the visceral details that you can't pick up from the TV screen. Being up close to the track, you can feel the snare of the wind as cars snap around corners and the rumble of shifting gears shaking through your bones. It's a feeling that's overwhelmingly immediate. You're there. You're part of the race. And even if you don't know antifreeze from anti-lock, it's exciting as hell.

If you think green beer and corned beef are the only makings of St. Patrick's Day, you haven't been celebrating in Ireland. That's not to say that the U.S. take on the holiday is wrong--Chicago pretty much tops the charts with its extravagant green river--but over in the land of Blarney, it's a whole different festival.

St. Patrick's Day actually started out as a religious holiday celebrating the life of St. Patrick. And while there are still a few souls who start the day in church, the focus of the holiday swung from reverence to revelry a long time ago. Today, Ireland indulges in a full six days of eating, drinking, and merrymaking in honor of their country's patron saint.

I’ve never been much into the Olympics, but after a trip to Vancouver and Whistler in January I caught a bit of a bug. Anxious to keep the spirit alive as I waited for the Games to begin, I planned an early February trip to Lake Placid, NY, home to the 1932 and 1980 Winter Games and a place both entrenched in and proud of its Olympic history. From ‘Miracle Monday’ specials at the famous Dancing Bears Bar to the photos of champion Olympians past hanging on the walls at the High Peaks Resort to the signs all over town wishing ‘good luck’ to local Andrew Weilbrecht, member of the US Olympic Alpine Ski Team -- the Olympic ties practically hit you over the head at every turn in this tiny town in New York’s Adirondacks.

Nicholas Wolaver is a PR man by day and an Olympics superfan and historian by...well, also by day. He’s managed to marry his interests with a career that’s sent him to a half-dozen Olympic Games—experiences he blogs about at Olympic Rings and Other Things. From his temporary post in Vancouver, he talked to us about his travels, Vancouver and Whistler tips, and social media at the Olympics.

I’m not sure why, but putting a piece of food on a stick always puts a smile on travelers’ faces. Maybe it’s because we associate skewered snacks with childhood pleasures like lollipops and popsicles; maybe it’s because sticks make for easy cleanup when we’re on the go.

Either way, certain destinations are held in high esteem for their unforgettable (for better or for worse) meals on sticks. Here are 10 picked especially for brave travelers—stick it to your friends when you complete one of these challenges.

Here are some of the numbers: 13 floats. 14 marching bands. 27 vintage cars. 3 trolleys. 1 royal court. 1 private mounted unit. And an uncountable number of flowers. All this and about 4,000 other parade participants was about to converge on Waikiki’s Kalākaua Avenue, where I’d snagged a curbside seat in the bright morning sun. I’d just come from the pre-parade preparations, which I described in my last blog entry, and was eager to see everything come together.

Today our nation mourns. As someone living on the West Coast, I'm never sure how to deal with my feelings about 9/11. Like everyone, I'm sure, I remember where I was when I heard the news. I was starting grad school in Baltimore and it was the first day of classes. I didn't know a soul in the city and they canceled school for a week. I went home to grieve alone.

I did not personally know anyone who died on 9/11 and yet it haunts me. It was the day the rules as we knew them changed, the day that nothing would ever be the same again.

The following year, I moved to New York City. 9/11 is different there. I remember walking to the subway on the first anniversary of that horrible day and seeing a man clutching a picture of a woman, openly weeping on the streets of Brooklyn.

Missoula, Mi-zoo-lah: It’s a name that trips off the tongue singingly. And I’m hearing it sung through the travel grapevine that it’s where in Montana you want to be the last weekend of this month and the first weekend of September, for two very different reasons.

First, on the weekend of August 29 and 30, it’ll be time to put down your fishing pole, hang up your hiking shoes, get off your high horse (or llama), and come on down to Missoula for the fourth annual River City Roots Festival, which is absolutely free for all who attend!