Maybe it was the Christmas thing, or maybe it was because I started writing this entry on an airplane as I was eyeing the bag across the aisle from mine. It was quite unusual and….hairy. Or perhaps it's better described as furry. Whatever. It was distinctly animal that much I knew, but what animal exactly? Was it horse, goat, albino zebra? I decided to find out!

*Oh, and speaking of Christmas! We're taking a break for the holiday. Please come back and visit us in 2007. We'll be back January 2nd.

My worst international dining experience can be summarized in a frozen moment: I’m sitting in an Andean restaurant jaw dropped as a waiter walks to the next table over with a guinea pig on a plate, spindly rodent feet and all. Probably not the most appetizing way for me to begin a posting on food, but I bring this anecdote up only to contrast against the total glory that is being a cheese-loving vegetarian in Italy.

The scales don't lie; I've put on a few pounds this holiday season. It all started with a tasty Thanksgiving back home and has snowballed as party after party overflows with intoxicating spirits and bursts with divine treats. I fear that there's no end in sight since I'm heading to Wine Country this Christmas. Luckily I have a few tricks up my sleeve.

Without going into detail, let’s just say I see where Danny DeVito was going with his Lincoln bedroom commentary on “The View” a few weeks ago--though I would have preferred to hear it from his buddy George Clooney. There is such a thing a “vacation sex.”*

DeVito’s rant aside, I get what he meant. Being away from home, from work, and from the distractions of our everyday responsibilities makes, ahem...you know, totally different than at home. Indeed, better...and more frequent.

Welcome to The Window Seat: a blog for every traveler.

Why The Window Seat? Because if you're a traveler, it's how you take in the world around you. And because it's the best seat in the house, the one with the most captivating view – and that is precisely what this blog is about. Sharing travel perspectives and experiences.

When I first imagined this blog, I pictured a place that would speak to me like a seasoned traveler as well as a friend. I envisioned a place where travelers from all over the globe could partake in the discussion. Thus, The Window Seat is a community by and for travelers. It exists for us to log our impressions about travel and learn from others. Over time, with your help, it will be an honest and relevant resource for the latest travel news, insider destination information and travel advice.

You'll hear from me as well as a group of regular contributors at The Window Seat. We won't always share the same idea about what makes a trip great, but we think that's what will make the collective voice of this blog strong. What we do share is a passion for all things travel and a commitment to provide useful travel-related information. It is our great hope that you will add your perspective to our effort.

... It is with great pride that I bring to you this first glimpse from The Window Seat.

Amy Ziff

Getting across St. Mark’s Square, the tourist focal point of Venice, is ordinarily like playing the video game Frogger, but with pigeons. Add in a flood, and the “Bride of the Sea” becomes Bridezilla--delicate to negotiate, ready to teeter over the edge at a moment’s notice, and squeezing out the waterworks for dramatic effect.

This is why, when I told friends and family I wanted to go to Venice in December, I was met with a number of skeptical looks. It is, after all, the rainy season in a city that is sinking, and the time of year most prone to floods. It is also the time of year with the least crowds and lines. Which seemed great reasons to me to pack my wading boots and umbrella.

My parents were convinced that I'd only make it to 4'11", I grew up in D.C. where no building is taller than the U.S. Capitol, and even though I drove an SUV in college, I've always preferred quick, compact cars (currently a Mini). So my mantra is generally: Good things come in small packages.

But I've been curious about the Airbus A380 superjumbo--the world's largest airliner that has about 35% more capacity than its Boeing rival.

So, I had to get a new passport this year, which I had known for a while, as I recall noting it when I went to the U.K. last year. But then I forgot. And then I was dreading it. You know the hassle: the paperwork, living without it for weeks, and I don't know. But just getting it renewed seemed like a mighty burden. Then again, if I didn't get it done soon, I might not be able to get out of the country for fear that I wouldn't be able to get back INTO the country. To complicate matters, I had not one, but two international trips to navigate, which all meant that I had better get my passport renewed and fast.

The passport rules actually state that some countries won't accept your passport unless it is valid for over six months from the date you arrive. I pushed it in Tanzania and Rwanda, but fortunately I squeaked out of both with my imminent expiration undetected. I returned stateside in late June. I was tired. July came and I downloaded the form for renewal and that was, by the way, a really expedient way to get this process started!

For the last week, I have been completely preoccupied by the heartbreaking story of the Kim family from San Francisco and the tragic discovery that the father died of exposure and hypothermia while seeking help for his family in Oregon.

Last week, CNET senior editor James Kim bravely set out on what his wife Kati described to authorities as an heroic last resort to save her and their two young daughters. After running the car for heat and running out of gas, then burning all four tires, James set out for help on a 10 mile trek through rugged, snowy terrain. Sadly, his path led him in a near circle—his body was recovered only one-half mile from the family car.

I am loving the bring-your-own-meal (BYOM) trend on domestic flights. If there's been one improvement to air travel these days, it's actually the lack of in-flight meals--no more stinking airplane cabins and questionable food lingering on my tray table.

But now snack boxes are proliferating, and not only are they an example of gross over-packaging, but they are also known to be laden with empty calories and artery-clogging fat. I'm telling you now that I don't ever want to appear on The Biggest Loser, which means you won't find me "snacking" on chips and cookies at 30,000 feet.

It’s no secret that American’s favorability around the world is on the decline. I was reminded of this earlier in the year when I traveled to Quebec with a slightly obnoxious stars-and-stripes luggage identifier tied to my suitcase, which mysteriously wound up getting “lost.” After speaking to the airline agent in Canada, who chuckled when I told her of the tag, I began to wonder if my missing piece of luggage had more to do with the red, white and blue than I could have anticipated.

True story: Back in the 80s, a friend of mine flew home from the Dominican Republic with her Spanish-speaking grandfather and a gallon-size container of honey from his farm. As if he were traveling with gold bars, he carefully placed the jug of honey in the overhead bin a few seats away. About half-way through the flight, the unlucky man beneath said bin found himself completely doused in honey, which seeped into his ears, covered his eyes, and slid down the space between his collar and his neck. As everyone on the plane turned to see what the shrieking was all about, my friend--who was eight at the time—became the impromptu translator of some colorful language from the flight attendant to her grandfather.