Cleared for takeoff!

Greg Gross

I love to travel. My most prized possession is an expired passport with visa stamps from 15 countries. That fact has prompted some people of color to wonder if I’m actually white. To them, I owe the title of this blog.

Some of “us” seem to feel that if you’re black, you’re supposed to stay within your own little box in life, curiosity fettered, mind shackled, eyes wide shut.

I refuse.

Travel opens your eyes, broadens your mind.  It inspires and it humbles.  You return knowing your world, and yourself, a little better.  So we’ll be talking here about travel — tips, ideas, memories of the road.  After all, it’s your world.

And as my friend Shay Olivarria says, “the world is bigger than your block.”

Sublimely ridiculous — The world’s most overpriced hotel stay

You know that old saying, right? “If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”

So naturally, I asked, anyway.

Why did I do that…?

My own version of a “mad minute” began when I decided to check out a hotel website discovered by my new friends at Gadling.com, one of the better air travel blogs on the Web.

The hotel site, called DealBase, searches out hotel room rates across North America (which, for you geographically challenged souls out there, does include Mexico), the Caribbean and Europe.

As you’d expect, they afford you collections of good hotel deals, great hotel deals, last-minute hotel, et cetera. But the link that instantly drew my attention was this one:

“Worst Hotel Deals”

And right at the top of the list was what may well be the mother of all overpriced hotel stays.

Now, if you know me and/or this blog, you know I’m not a big believer in pricey hotel rooms. In fact, I’m not that big on hotels, period. But this place, the Muse Hotel in New York City, has gone so far over the top, they may need a net — if only to throw it over whoever on their staff came up with this scheme.

To confirm that suspicion, I then decided to check out what were generally considered to be the world’s most expensive hotel rooms. I found lots of candidates, none of which I could afford even in my most Beluga of “caviar dreams.”

The Royal Suite at the George V Hotel in Paris…$15,000 a night. The Bridge Suite at the Atlantis Paradise Island in the Bahamas…$25,000 a night. the Hugh Hefner Sky Villa at the Palms Casino Resort in Las Vegas…$24,000 a night. The Grand Resort Lagonissi in Athens…$50,000 a night.

Not one of them. Not even close.

What about the President Wilson Hotel in Geneva? A cool $65,000 will get you a night in their Royal Penthouse Suite . But if you want to stay at the Muse on their special package “deal,” you’d better be ready to just about double that.

The price for the “Suite of Dreams at the Muse,” according to DealBase…

Drum roll, please.

$100,000 a night.

Maybe the passing of the years is turnng me into a grouchy old curmudgeon, but the way I see it, anything you pay six figures for, you should own, for life. Your grandchildren should inherit the damned thing.

A hundred “large” a night? Only if time travel is included.

No worries, though. Basic rooms at the Muse start at a mere $529 a night. If it makes you feel any better, they do have auto club rates.

As for me, my muse will be staying at a Motel 6.

We Are Everywhere

That’s right, we’re out there in that big, wide, scary world. Visiting, studying, working, even living — and thriving.

While doing Internet research for the sake of encouraging more black Americans to get out and see the world, I found some of us already doing that.

I found a young blogger who’s been collecting the stories of black travelers who’ve been everywhere from Amsterdam to British Columbia to Argentina to India.

I found a young woman who calls herself the Black Planeteer, who seems hell-bent on seeing the entire planet, one country at a time.

I found a young man who calls himself flybrother who knows his way around the world like I know my way around Oakland.

I found Destah Owens, whose job as a computer engineer is taking him global…literally.

Above all, I found that these folks are not unique. There are plenty more of them, and their blogs, where these came from.

Simply put, we are everywhere.

I’m not talking here about African expatriates who are already comfortable in the cultures of the European colonizers in which they grew up, or who are taking advantage of cultural connections in China or the former Soviet bloc, made in the developing world during the Cold War.

I’m talking about black Americans who have slipped the surly bonds of self-limitation to turn their lives into their own “High Flight” and are going a hundred places you have not dreamed of.

These young black men and women are all over the world, playing the game.

Not that street-corner “game” lionized in gangsta rap music, the one in which the “player” usually ends up being played and discarded — or dead — before his 30th birthday. I’m talking about the game the rest of the world is playing — the one built around learning, getting job and life experience that they’re putting to use to benefit their communities, their families and themselves.

These brothers and sisters are scoring points on a global playing field. They’re not letting fear of the unfamiliar, or anything else, hold them back.

So what’s holding you back?

For many of us, it’s about cost. For many others, it’s more about priorities.

The $1,800 you spend on an Armani suit or package of custom rims could send three people to Paris for a week.

The cost of one Rolex watch could send you and your kids on a life-changing trip to the African motherland.

The year’s worth of lease payments you make on a Hummer or a Cadillac Escalade, not to mention what you’d have to pay to keep their gas tanks full for that year, could easily get you a flight to and a week’s stay — or two — in any major capital on the planet.

Then there’s that whole Generation Gap thing. It’s true that most of those living and working outside the United States tend to be younger, but you can benefit from travel at virtually any age, without a permanent change of address. There are things out there to see, things to learn, lessons to apply to our lives and our communities back home.

But for every one of these ongoing stories of personal triumph being created by black Americans across an international tablet, there are many more whose opening chapters are still waiting to be written.

Is it time to get started on yours?

America’s Castles

Think lavish palaces and imposing bastions are strictly Old World? Think again.

Hearst Castle, San Simeon, CA

In our proudly egalitarian American minds, castles are an aristocratic symbol of Old Europe, or maybe ancient Asia. But there are at least two Old World castles here in the New World — and you won’t need your passport to visit either of them.

One is Hearst Castle in California, a few hours’ drive north of Los Angeles. The other is Morro Castle in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The first was a monument to one family’s wealth and power. The other was a massive “We ain’t playin’!” fortress with stone walls 18 feet thick.

Hearst Castle overlooks the southern end of state Route 1, aka the Pacific Coast Highway or — as most Californians know it — Highway 1. You’ve seen this stretch of road in at least a few dozen car commercials on TV over the years, but nothing equals seeing it for yourself.

The drive getting there, from north or south, is literally too lovely for words. If you chose to skip the castle entirely and just keep on going, few who’ve ever driven this highway would blame you.

But don’t do that.

You need to see this place — not just to drink in the incredible opulence, but to touch a big piece of modern American history. In their time, the Hearsts weren’t just major figures in the media. They practically were the media.

There are those who believe, with some justification, that they deliberately used their influence to push the United States into an expansionist war with Spain in 1898.

The movie Citizen Kane, widely considered one of the greatest films ever made, all but made a target of the life and deeds of the family patriarch, William Randolph Hearst.

(It also made a legend out of Orson Welles, who wrote, produced, directed and starred in it!)

If you’re one of those who insists that America has never had its own royalty, what you learn here about the Hearst family just might change your mind.

Even in this era of mega-mansions and MTV Cribs, the splendor and comfort in which the Hearsts lived on this mountain is hard to fathom.

(NOTE: If any of you fans of the old Star Trek TV series feel like you’re suddenly having flashbacks, it’s no surprise. The set for the episode involving the Greek god Apollo clearly was inspired by this pool!)

Morro Castle — El Castillo de San Felipe del Morro in Spanish — was designed to make unwanted visitors to San Juan as uncomfortable as possible, and history shows they did a pretty good job of that.

Britain had Gibraltar. Spain had this place — and she needed it.

Madrid was getting rich off her Caribbean colonies — and just about everyone, it seemed, wanted a piece. Over the centuries, the British, Dutch and Americans would all try taking a bite out of Spain’s Caribbean holdings…starting right here.

Some countries even enlisted pirates to plunder Spanish shipping on their behalf. You know, that whole “plausible deniability” thing?

See? They weren’t really pirates. They were “contractors!” Before there was Blackwater, there was Blackbeard!

Bottom line, this part of the world was no place for a pacifist. Morro’s massive cannons fired iron shot the size of bowling balls, and the Spanish soldiers who manned them were cold-blooded professionals who “handled their business” with deadly precision.

These heavy guns defended San Juan from invasion

England’s legendary sea captain, Sir Francis Drake, found out just how precise in 1595.

Drake, a full-time adventurer and part-time slave trader, figured he could force his way into San Juan with a British battle fleet at his back.

It must’ve been a majestic sight — a classic battle line of galleons under billowing sails, blasting away with their rows of guns.

The Morro garrison, apparently, was not as easily impressed as I am. Taking aim at Drake’s famed ship, the Golden Hind, the castle gunners calmly put one of their giant cannonballs right through his cabin.

Sir Francis took his business elsewhere.

The British got a measure of revenge soon after, storming the castle from the land side, only to have their army so ravaged by disease that they withdrew after a mere six weeks.

Today, the castle is listed as a national historic site by the U.S. Park Service and a world heritage site by the United Nations. It draws some 2 million visitors a year — and nobody gets shot!

The one thing Hearst and Morro castles have in common: You can’t actually drive right up to either of them.

You have to leave your car at the bottom of the mountain near San Simeon and take a tour bus up to Hearst Castle. Even if they let you drive up the mountain — which they won’t — there’s no place for you to park up there.

As for Morro Castle, a decision was made about ten years ago to return that area to its natural state. This led the Park Service to tear up the parking lot in front of the gate. So if you visit, be prepared for a little hike over a long gravel path.

Hearst Castle. Morro Castle. One symbolized power. The other projected the real thing. Both are worth a visit.

Cruising — the BIG and the small of it

The mainstream cruise industry seems married to the “bigger is better” idea. There are smaller, more intimate and adventurous alternatives. Just be ready to pay for them.

MS Oasis of the Seas, artist's rendering

Recession or not, when it comes to cruise ships, the attitude of the mainstream cruise industry seems to be: Go large or go home.

In the case of Royal Caribbean International, though, forget about bigger. With the debut of their newest ship, Oasis of the Seas, we’re talking humongous.

Royal Caribbean already had the largest cruise ships afloat. How large is large enough? They don’t seem to know, because they just keep building them bigger.

In the case of Oasis, “bigger” is 20 stories tall, 225,000 tons and almost 1,200 feet long. The largest aircraft carriers in the world weigh half that or less. In that mass are stacked 16 passenger decks holding 2,700 cabins with room for up to 6,300 passengers.

If you find those numbers mind-blowing, consider this: Oasis features seven “neighborhoods,” one of which has its own park. Not to mention the obligatory restaurants, casinos and all the shopping you can stand. This YouTube video will give you an idea of what’s in store for passengers.

Want a tattoo? No problem.

Loft suites…are you serious? Yep.

A bar that moves up and down between decks? Sho’nuff.

One YouTube wag has already re-dubbed this ship “Mall of America of the Seas.” If she never left the dock, you’d still be royally entertained. About the only thing you can’t get on board is a speeding ticket.

All is this done for what the beancounters call “economy of scale,” to make it all affordable for passengers.

There is an added possibility here. Neither Royal Caribbean nor their cruise competitors are likely to talk about it publicly, but you can bet your rent money that every one of them is thinking about it — and quietly planning for it.

“It” is Cuba.

Sooner or later, the United States will drop its outdated, unsuccessful and just plain silly embargo against Cuba. When that happens, cruise passengers will be clamoring to go there. Cruise lines will be converging on Havana in a stampede not seen in this part of the world since the Oklahoma land rush.

A relatively new ship capable of carrying large numbers of passengers there would figure to be one very popular draw.

Taken altogether, it’s pretty clear what Oasis means for Royal Carribean’s bottom line. What it means for the passengers’ cruise experience is a bit less certain.

Royal Caribbean virtually pioneered the concept of seagoing resort/amusement park, so you know the list of diversions aboard Oasis will be formidable. Some passengers may momentarily forget that they are at sea.

Another thing we can reasonably surmise: A lot of long lines. Lines to board at the start of the cruise and disembark at the end. Lines to enter the main dining halls. Lines for the more popular on-board attractions and service desks.

A lot of the ports Oasis calls on will be too small or too shallow (or both) to let this behemoth dock. That means waiting your turn to climb aboard a bobbing tender for the run between ship and shore.

At the same time, there is another type of cruise ship, and another style of cruising, that go in completely the opposite direction. These are the small cruise ships, carrying at most about 500 passengers and as few as 12.

Oasis of the Seas may have more crew members on her bridge than that.

Portholes or windows in your cabin tend to be a non-issue. In most cases, everybody gets one.

No neighborhoods, arcades, casinos. No Broadway shows. No rock climbing walls, putting greens, basketball courts. On many of these ships, your greatest sources of entertainment are your destinations, your fellow passengers and the sea itself.

These are often more akin to journeys than cruises, especially for travelers craving a little adventure.

Being smaller, there’s virtually no port where they can’t anchor. You can visit locales that the mega-cruisers can’t even get near.

These ships often include scientists and other experts as guest lecturers who will brief you first on your destination before you head out on the ship’s Zodiac boats. Be Jacques Cousteau for a day!

Not all small-ship cruises are for the adrenaline set. Some, like Seabourn or Crystal, go for ultra-luxury. On their ships, everybody gets the first-class cabin — and that’s only the beginning.

There are disadvantages. With vessels this small, the crews also will be much smaller, which means fewer people to wait on you hand and foot. If you run into a passenger or two who rub you the wrong way, you won’t have many opportunities to avoid them during your cruise.

Then there’s cost. These smaller ships don’t have that “economy of scale” of vessels like Oasis of the Seas. Small-ship cruise fans will tell you that you get what you pay for and then some, but let’s be real. These are anything but bargain cruises.

Still, it doesn’t mean that bargains can’t be had, if you’re willing to shop around. You’ll find a lot of those individual small-ship lines listed here, courtesy of About.com. More websites where you can compare and/or shop for small-ship cruises can be found on the Cool Travel Sites page.

Large or small, high-adventure or hedonistic, the cruise industry pretty much has you covered. It’s just a matter of how much adrenaline — or expense — you can handle.

ROAMING: A Fort Lauderdale wake-up call

Immediately upon resigning my from The San Diego Union-Tribune in the spring of 2001, I went on a travel spree for the next few years. Paris, Berlin, Madrid, Amsterdam, Havana, San Salvador to name a few. These were all the many places I’d wanted to visit but couldn’t because I was sitting in an office writing stories. I felt free.

While preparing for a trip to Costa Rica, I got a rude reality check in Florida.

Samuel Autman

By SAMUEL AUTMAN
I awakened, cotton-mouthed and thirsty, in the Sheraton Inn Suites in Fort Lauderdale. I had inhaled quite a few apple martinis the night before. I had lots to do to get ready for a three-week trip to Costa Rica.

It was the summer of 2004. I had left the newspaper business and began working as an instructor at a small liberal arts university in Indiana. Earlier that year, I had spent three weeks in El Salvador with a group of students. The Costa Rica trip was personal enrichment, a chance to brush up on my rusty, Sesame Street Spanish. I would be living with locals and taking daily Spanish classes. The University would pay for it. Although my head was spinning that morning with lots to do, I was excited anticipating the trip.

Realizing I needed to confirm the flight time, I reached for my cell phone but couldn’t find it. Maybe I’d dropped it on the floor of the rental car, I decided.

Outside, the Florida heat and humidity were more intense than what I liked at 10 a.m. I opened the passenger’s side of the car, convinced that my cell phone was the floor of the driver’s side. I lay across the floor of the passenger’s seat of my rental car, the door pried open and my size 16 feet dangling out.

Suddenly, I felt something at my feet. I turned over to see a man getting into the car and climbing onto me. A fear like I had never known seized me as I reacted to his body’s weight on me. I could feel his fists pounding against my chest and arms. Adrenaline pumping through my body, I fought back with my fists and elbows. The look of murder branded his face, but I fought harder and harder.

I imagined my own obituary running in the campus newspaper. I thought of my mother grieving over a casket. I didn’t want to go out like this. My fear became mixed with rage as we struggled and tussled for at least 90 seconds. I wasn’t just fighting him; I was resisting Death.

I heard the driver’s door of my rental car open. Suddenly there were two guys, one beating my shoulders and head while the other guy wrestled to control my legs. As a 6-foot-4-inch 220-pound man who had been working out steadily at a gym with a personal trainer, I rarely thought of myself as a potential robbery victim or an aggressive physical assault. This wasn’t looking good.

I had seen dozens of guests on The Oprah Winfrey Show talk about the best way to respond in an attack. They said don’t fight. Give them the wallet and save your life. That’s easy to say in an air-conditioned studio sitting next to Oprah.

I could have been fighting for my life. I now know I fought because I was furious.

In all the struggling, I realized I had the rental car keys in my hand. I hit the red button and the car alarm began came to wail and honk. The noise startled and frazzled my attackers. They fumbled, trying to shut it off.

“Make it stop,” one said.

“Get the gun!” the other one yelled.

I froze. Let them have my fake Louis Vuitton wallet with less than $40 in it, my four credit cards and my ATM card and my driver’s license. Take it all, I thought.

No one ever produced a gun, but in that instant, if I had had one strapped to my ankle, I, who oppose carrying concealed weapons or anything to do with the NRA, would have emptied it on those two rascals and sent them flying out into eternity, where I hoped Satan and all of his demons would surely usher them into a lake of fire, where the worms who feast on human souls never die.

One of them reached into my pocket and snatched my wallet. They jumped into their waiting vehicle and drove off. I tried to jump up quickly enough to see their license plate like on television movies, but my body was too weak. As I limped over to the hotel lobby, the bellhop got the manager and I began to sob.

Minutes later, the Fort Lauderdale police interviewed me. I was Victim Number Six in a period of a few weeks. The hotel had already planned to have cameras installed that day in the parking lot. The officers told me these guys were after wallets with wads of cash.

When I got back to my hotel room I picked up my phone and called my mother, doing my best to not sound like I was crying or all victim-y. She asked if I was all right, then asked what I planned to do about Costa Rica.

“I’m not going to go. They got my driver’s license, all my credit cards. I have no way to get cash now. The last thing I want to do is sit around in somebody’s house trying to speak Spanish.”

“Well, if you don’t go and cancel your trip to Costa Rica, they will have won,” she sighed.

On the level of being a determined human being, she was right, but my spirits and body were crushed. I appreciated my mother’s never-ending nurturing, but this trip was not to be.

“Well, I love you and will be praying for you.”

With those words, she was off the phone and I was left sitting alone in my hotel room, feeling unsafe and afraid that at any moment, someone could break in and attack me again. I looked out the window and wondered where should I go. The hotel manager had been gracious, allowing me to make as many phone calls as needed as I figured out my next step. I called Central America and cancelled the trip. Cancelled all of the credit cards. Almost as if on cue, the idea to call my cousin, with whom I hadn’t spent much time with in years, popped into my head.

“Baby, get here immediately,” she said.

That night I got on my knees and prayed. Then I went to sleep with the lights on, something I would feel the need to do for the next year whenever I was sleeping in a house alone.

It took about six months before I could get into a car and not flash back to the incident. I’m a pretty big guy, but this kind of thing could happen to anyone, anywhere.

A FOOTNOTE
You don’t have to travel abroad to become a target for crooks. There are precautions to take, no matter where you are:

Situational Awareness…Enjoy every moment when you travel, but don’t lose yourself in it. Crooks target the oblivious, the preoccupied. Know where you are and who’s around you at all times.

Change things up…Vary the times of your comings and goings. Don’t park in exactly the same place every time.. Do try to park in a lighted, busy area.

Stay under the radar…Leave the “bling” at home, including ostentatious luggage. It all just shouts “Look at me! Envy me! Jack me!” If attending a conference, take off your name badge when you go outside. On the street, it’s like a flashing sign: “Hi, I’m a tourist and I’m carrying wads of cash!”

Hotels…Avoid ground-floor rooms that open onto the street. Favor hotels that use cards instead of keys to unlock your door. Peepholes and deadbolt locks should always be preferred — and used. If you call the hotel staff for room service or anything else to be brought to your room, ask them to call you just before they arrive.

Taxis…no unmarked cabs, ever. When in doubt, taxis that regularly serve your hotel are preferable. Enroute, sit directly behind the driver where you can see him, but he can’t see you. At your destination, pay him before you get out of the vehicle.

No loose lips…if traveling with family or a group, no talking about money, your room number, travel plans or anything else personal where strangers can hear you.

Don’t flash your cash…in restaurants, stores, the hotel front desk. If you need to withdraw money from an ATM, conceal what you’re doing from prying eyes and make sure someone literally “has your back” while you do the transaction. Don’t use an ATM in any area that feels unsafe.

None of these tips will absolutely guarantee you crime-free travel, but they definitely can tilt the odds in your favor.

–G. Gross, editor
“I’m Black and I Travel!”

Black travelers, unite! (Or at least say hello)

Black travel sites have their own diaspora going on the Web — scattered across the digital landscape, few of them aware of one another’s existence. And that’s just wrong. So we’re going to do something about that, starting with Facebook.

At last count, there were at least 16 Facebook groups devoted in some form or fashion to African-Americans and travel. That’s the good news. The bad news is that they can be difficult and time-consuming to track down because they are scattered all over Facebook, so you might have a hard time finding them.

Until now.

Facebook’s black travel groups now have a home on this blog. You’ll find them all listed on the Black Travel Sites page. If you come across any similar Facebook groups that aren’t on this list, give me a shout, either here or on Facebook, and I’ll add them. Or you can find me on Twitter @ImBlacknITravel.

For that matter, if you know of other black travel groups anywhere else on the Web that should be listed here, let me know.

Found: My Childhood Bridge

Pecos high Bridge. Photo by John West

Way back in the second entry I ever did for this blog, I described a trip I made as a child on the Sunset Limited train from New Orleans to Los Angeles, the trip that ignited my passion for traveling. On that trip, we made a predawn crossing of a bridge over a gorge that left this then 6-year-old utterly enthralled:

“We were crossing a canyon, a gorge, or maybe it was the place where all the bad little kids descended into Hell. Whatever it was, I couldn’t see the bottom. Nor could I see the railroad bridge that was bearing us over it. We seemed to be suspended in space, not rolling across the desert, but flying through the night. At first, I feared that gorge would never end. Soon, I hoped it wouldn’t.

That was the moment when the destination became secondary to the journey, the moment I became addicted to travel.”

In all those years, I’ve never known the name of that bridge, where it was, or anything about it. Until now. The Web solved what had been for me a 52-year mystery.

The bridge to my young imagination turns out to be a railroad bridge over the Pecos River in Texas. It’s call the Pecos High Bridge, and it has a history that goes back farther and deeper than I ever would’ve guessed.

And the Sunset Limited still crosses it.

NEW FEATURE: Destinations

Train station just north of Venice, Italy

Wondering where I’ve been, where I’m going next, where I’m thinking about going — but you’d rather not hunt through the entire blog to find out? You no longer have to.

Now you can find all my destinations — past, present and future — in one place, with links that take you straight to the entry in question.

You’ll always find it at the top of the blog, along with the Cool Travel Sites and Black Travel Sites pages.

Hopefully, it’s a list that will grow long in the coming months and years — and here’s hoping you’ll be adding to your own list of destinations while you’re reading this one.

Meanwhile, as they say…WATCH THIS SPACE!

UPON FURTHER REVIEW: American Airlines’ Black Atlas

When American announced this creation of the Black Atlas site, I was more than a little skeptical. It has since opened for business this month.

American Airlines flight landing at Lindbergh Field, San Diego

While I may still have issues with the concept, I have to say that — so far, anyway — I mostly like the execution.

The site is clean, attractive, easy to navigate. It’s fairly well packed with features without being so busy that you can’t locate the ones you want.

But what I most enjoy is the sight of travel guides – audio slideshows narrated principally by “travel expert-at-large” Nelson George — talking about great destinations around the world.

George is well suited for this. He has a style that is relaxed, informal, welcoming. And audio slideshows have the advantage of being easier, quicker and cheaper to produce than videos.

You’ll also see comments and tips posted on some of those destinations by people who have intimate knowledge of the place because they live, work or often visit there.

The best of part of that is: Those guides look like me. These are people who see the world, know the world, and they look like me.

That’s encouraging. Empowering. Inspiring.

With any new site, there may be hiccups here and there. In the video on Chicago, for instance, narrator George identifies the John Hancock Center as the Sears Tower. Not only is it the wrong building, but it’s also the wrong name, since Sears took their name off their iconic skyscraper back in July. It is now actually known as the Willis Tower.

Even if you’re addressing yourself to your “peeps,” you still need to “come correct.” But things like this are minor quibbles, easily fixed and then justly forgotten.

This site has a lot of growth potential, and not just with a growing list of destinations. As good a job as Nelson does with his narration, there needs to be some local faces and voices in the slideshows to really bring the destinations to life for the viewer.

And eventually, the slideshows themselves probably need to evolve into videos.

However, my biggest bone to pick with Black Atlas is their target audience:

“Our members are business-focused, family oriented, socially active and explorers at heart.”

In other words, folks who already fly and can drop some cash on American Airlines. What’s wrong with that, you ask? Not a blessed thing, as far as it goes.

I just don’t think it goes far enough. American may be missing a bet here.

I don’t know how much money American has invested in Black Atlas, but it seems clear that the airline is looking for an immediate return on it — and with the economy still in recess, that’s understandable.

Still, I can’t help feeling that the airline might do much better with Black Atlas — especially in the long run — if they were to broaden their sights a bit. Don’t just target African-American adults who travel already, but also those who do not — especially younger ones who may not yet be “business-focused,” but who already have both Internet access and imaginations waiting to be captured.

It’s easy to envision Black Atlas becoming a useful and popular teaching tool in history, geography or social science classes. Get young people thinking about travel. Hook their interest. Stoke their dreams.

Rather than just a marketing tool for a short-term boost in its bottom line, American could wind up building an even larger passenger base that spans generations.

As the kids say nowadays…just sayin’.

Plastic in China — a cautionary tale

Anytime a conversation begins with the words “Has this ever happened to you?,” you know it’s not going to be a happy story.

It’s one of those small-print travel cautions you hear from time to time, one which you may or may not heed: If you’re going to be using your credit or debit cards overseas, notify your bank before you start your trip.

Up to now, I’ve been in the “not heed” group.

Having used my cards without a problem on numerous trips to Europe, the Americas and the Caribbean, I never bothered with this cautionary step in the past. And besides, aren’t the credit card companies always bombarding us with ads emphasizing how widely their cards are accepted all over the planet?

But a recent conversation with a friend of mine who also happens to be a reader of this blog is changing my thinking.

“Has this ever happened to you?” he began.

Right then, I knew I was in for a horror story.

Jon visited China not too long ago. Between his debit card and his PayPal account, he figured he was covered financially. No worries — until the first time he tried to withdraw money from a Chinese ATM machine.

The machine refused him.

Jumping on the Internet, he tried to access his funds via PayPal. No joy there, either. When he contacted his bank, he learned that his attempts to withdraw money from his own account had been interpreted as an overseas attempt at identity theft and his funds had been frozen.

The bank even sent him a self-congratulatory e-mail on how they had “protected” him from fraud.

Through some urgent and rather pointed communication with his bank back home, he finally did get his accounts uncooked and his money freed up.

“It took two days,” Jon said.

Apparently, banks have been hit with enough card fraud out of China that at least some of them are choosing to err on the side of extreme caution, even at the risk of ruining business and vacation trips for their customers — as Jon very nearly found out. This evidently is a special pain in China — for as Jon explained to me, in many parts of the country, they don’t even honor things like travelers check, let alone personal checks.

And China may not be the only place where this is happening.

This is something we’ll be investigating further in the coming days.

Meanwhile, if you have trips outside the United States coming up and you plan to use your plastic, contact your bank or credit union before you go wheels-up. And yes, after hearing this tale of travel horror, you can bet I will be heeding my own advice!