Nael Nacer on all-inclusive resorts, Lin-Manuel Miranda, and his visit to Cuba
Advertisement
Do you prefer booking trips through a travel agent or on your own?
I usually book travel on my own, but I love the idea of using a trusted travel agent. Guidance is always appreciated.
Get Starting Point
A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday.
Enter Email
Sign Up
Thoughts on an 'unplugged' vacation?
Yes, please. It's hard to disconnect, but once you manage to do it, there's nothing better.
Advertisement
What has been your worst vacation experience?
My wife and I went to a giant all-inclusive resort once and ... it was not my thing. There was a lot of drinking and it was very loud. It was all-inclusive — but totally secluded with a sort of party atmosphere, which wasn't exactly what we were after.
What is your favorite childhood travel memory?
I was lucky enough to go to Cuba with my family when I was in high school, and it's an astonishingly beautiful place. I dream of going back.
Do you vacation to relax, to learn, or for the adventure of it all?
I would say a healthy mix of adventure and relaxation. I like a good itinerary that has built-in downtime.
What book do you plan on bringing with you to read on your next vacation?
'The Ferryman' by Justin Cronin. Or 'Project Hail Mary' by Andy Weir.
If you could travel with one famous person/celebrity, who would it be?
Lin-Manuel Miranda. He seems like a good fellow traveler: enthusiastic, thoughtful, funny, curious, and kind.
Advertisement
What is the best gift to give a traveler?
Information. I love to plan, but all my best trips have been elevated by recommendations from friends, and I try to return the favor whenever possible.
What is your go-to snack for a flight or a road trip?
My absolute favorite flight snack is Fauchon mini-crepes. I only buy them at the airport, and it's become a ritual with my wife to crack open a box once the seatbelt sign is turned off. It's how we start and end almost all of our trips. On road trips, I like to munch on Combos while I drive.
What is the coolest souvenir you've picked up on a vacation?
My wife and I collect ornaments from every place we go, and we've gotten some really beautiful ones over the years. Putting them up at Christmas time is really special; we get to think about all the places we've been as we decorate the tree.
What is your favorite app/website for travel?
I don't really have a favorite, but I use Google Flights, Expedia, and Kayak.
What has travel taught you?
It's made me more curious, open, and grateful to be on this planet. There is so much beauty in the world, and so many ways to experience it. It feels essential to me to get out of the daily grind whenever possible and open up my world view, whether it's flying across the world or taking a day trip outside the city.
What is your best travel tip?
Stay hydrated. And have at least one activity every day; it can make short trips feel longer.
Juliet Pennington can be reached at
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
National Geographic
a day ago
- National Geographic
What it's like to celebrate midsummer in Sweden
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). As my Swedish army bike rattles down the last hill, I place a hand on the basket to secure my Midsummer contributions: two king-size sausage rolls and a green bean and orange salad. The wide-open fields of southern Sweden's fertile Söderslätt plain, yellow with rapeseed flowers, stretch out to my right, while to my left, the Baltic Sea has just slipped out of sight, having been there for most of my 20-minute ride from the station. When I turn into the gravel drive, Malin and Christian's century-old brick villa, Källbacken, meaning 'hill with a spring', is already clattering with preparations. Malin and her seven-year-old daughter Edith have been out picking the flowers and greenery that will decorate the midsommarstång, or maypole, which they've laid out neatly on a table. I place my sausage rolls alongside and am immediately marshalled into scrubbing potatoes. For Malin and Christian, new potatoes, dug up only days before from the patch at the bottom of their garden, are central to the feast. 'Unlike Easter and Christmas, you don't normally have hot food at Midsummer: it's about potatoes, and herring,' Malin says. The preparations began months ago. 'We actually start preparing for Midsummer in February," she explains, describing the family's annual trip to buy early-maturing Swift potatoes, which then stand, packed in egg cartons, in the barn for three months before being planted in early May. It feels a fitting ritual ahead of this festival, which originated back when Sweden was an agrarian society. Midsummer celebrations not only marked the longest day of the year but welcomed in a new season of fertility. Many Swedes still head to the countryside to celebrate. Although this is my tenth Midsummer in Sweden, the celebrations I've been to have been low-key affairs eschewing tradition: a barbecue, games, but no maypole. Malin and Christian, however, go all in. As well as the potatoes, the couple provide home-grown chives, pickled herring, Christian's home-brewed IPA, and a bottle or two of snaps or akvavit, the Swedish spirit used for toasts and to accompany singing. This celebration is unusual, though, for the lack of heavy drinking – because there are many babies and small children present. Midsummer, more than Christmas or New Year's Eve, is when Swedes really let loose, taking full advantage of daylight that lasts until close to midnight, and singing and dancing until sunrise. Midsummer is when Swedes let loose, taking advantage of daylight that lasts until close to midnight, singing and dancing until sunrise. Photograph by Getty, Fredrik Nyman In previous years, Malin made her own pickled herring, but this year there are five varieties supplied by Abba (the fish-canning giant, rather than the sequin-clad Seventies four-piece), and she's also made gubbröra, meaning 'old bloke's mix'. It's a salty spread combining chopped, soused and spiced sprats, hard-boiled eggs, mayonnaise and dill. As I'm scrubbing potatoes, more people start to arrive and, as with every Midsummer I've ever been to, it's a mix of Swedes and internationals, the language bouncing between English and Swedish. By the time I come outside, the table is crammed with dishes. Magnus, a childhood friend of Christian's, has brought a silltårta, a traditional cake made of herring and creme fraiche thickened with gelatine and served on a butter and breadcrumb base. Someone else has brought the obligatory västerbottenpaj, a quiche flavoured with a pungent hard cheese from the far north, and there's another quiche with salmon and spinach. Then there are two enormous sourdough loaves, with dark, decorated crusts and some fröknäcke, a heavily seeded crispbread. The only classic dish missing is gravlax – salmon cured with salt, sugar and dill. Once the potatoes are fully cleaned, Malin throws a handful of dill into the pan and begins the boiling. Swedes take potatoes seriously. All will own a potato-tester, a metal spike the thickness of a needle, with a blunt end and a plastic handle, which is pushed into potatoes to judge their firmness. My wife, I tell Malin as we chitchat, is adamant that you must leave part of the spuds poking above the water, cook them at no more than a simmer, and steam them dry in a pan afterwards. But Malin has no time for such fussiness. 'I know people who, after half the boiling time, pour out some of the water and add new water, and things like that,' she says. 'But I just boil them – not for too long, since they're new potatoes – but I don't understand why it should be so difficult.' Once done, the potatoes are placed in a bowl outside to be served with butter and chopped dill and chives, and sliced hard-boiled eggs laid alongside. A Swedish Midsummer meal is often formal, with places neatly laid on a long table outside, folded napkins and garnished dishes. But this year, thanks to all the young guests, it's a come-and-go affair, with guests sitting down with different neighbours every time they refill their plates. The conversation touches on the shortage of another Midsummer essential: strawberries, which a bad harvest has pushed above 80 kronor (£6) a litre, if you can get hold of any at all. I pile three sorts of herring onto some crispbread, its saltiness setting off the sweet-and-sour bite of the pickle, and also indulge in some gubbröra, enjoying the cinnamon, allspice and sandalwood spicing of the sprats. The potatoes are firm, sweet and a little nutty, the perfect partner to the stronger flavours of the other dishes. I also take some västerbottenpaj, which is so rich with Västerbotten cheese — somewhere between a mature cheddar and a parmesan in strength — that I have to stop at a single helping. The silltårta, an old-fashioned addition even to this very traditional celebration, has a jelly-ish consistency that doesn't quite appeal to me, but goes down well with the other guests. After the meal is over, I join the children and some of the adults walking it off in the surrounding fields and picking flowers for the midsommarkransar, Midsummer crowns made of birch twigs woven together. When we return, we get to work erecting the maypole, about three metres tall, with a crossbar. While it's commonly believed to be a pagan fertility symbol, representing male genitalia, experts insist each year in Swedish newspapers that there's no evidence to back it up – but looking at it, I find it hard to see what else it might be. Soon, adults and children alike are holding hands, circling around the pole, pretending alternately to be a musician playing a violin, someone washing clothes, and, in the most raucous of the dances, jumping like a frog. The celebrations segue into a house party, and then, later in the evening, a barbecue. Christian pulls a pile of waste wood from the barn and lights a fire, which we sit around as the mothers and daughters go out once again to pick flowers. 'You have to jump seven fences and pick one flower in each field, and you're not allowed to speak to one another. You have to be quiet the whole time,' Malin explains of this last ritual. 'And then you have this small bouquet; you put it underneath your pillow and you're supposed to dream about who you're going to marry.' This is one part of the celebrations I can't partake in, but as I bed down on a mattress upstairs, I feel satisfied that I've truly welcomed the summer. Midsummer feasts to visit While most Swedes will celebrate Midsummer in friends' country or island homes, there are organised celebrations for visitors. In 2025, Midsummer falls on 21 June. Tällberg, Dalarna Dalarna county is renowned for traditional Midsummers, with folk costumes, folk music and dancing. Åkerblads Hotel, in Tällberg on Lake Siljan, serves a traditional Midsummer smörgåsbord, with herring, new potatoes and västerbottenpaj, after which you can go into town and take part in the celebrations. Alternatively, at Våmhus Gammelgård, an old farm maintained by Sweden's main conservation organisation, you'll be served kolbulle, a thick pancake with diced, salted or smoked pork. Ringsjön, Skåne Bosjökloster, a country house and former nunnery on the shores of Lake Ringsjön in Skåne, Sweden's southernmost county, puts on a lavish Midsummer spread. Expect all the classics, plus specialities containing ingredients foraged in nearby forests, and plenty of vegan and vegetarian options. Once the buffet's over, join the dancing around a maypole erected on lawns leading down to the lakeshore – one of the most popular celebrations in Skåne. Småland Getnö Gård, a resort on Lake Åsnan in Småland, offers a traditional Midsummer buffet – served, untraditionally, after the maypole dances – including a strawberry cake prepared to a recipe handed down by the owner's grandmother. Most visitors stay over in the campsite or cabins. Fjäderholm In Stockholm, the archipelago is the place to celebrate, and Fjäderholm is the closest island, 30 minutes by ferry from the centre. Rökeriet Fjärderholmarna, a smokery, serves a traditional Midsummer buffet, with all the essentials and more. There's also live music and dancing around the maypole on the island. Väderö Storö The Väderöarnasor 'weather islands', a 35-minute ferry ride from Fjällbacka on the west coast, are the most far-flung islands off the Bohuslan coast. Väderöarnas Värdshus restaurant on Väderö Storö, the biggest island, lays on a Midsummer buffet, picking guests up from nearby Hamburgsund. Published in Issue 26 (winter 2024) of Food by National Geographic Traveller (UK). To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
Business Insider
3 days ago
- Business Insider
Uber is getting advertisers to pay for your next ride
Uber has a new ad type, paid for by brands, that gives users money off their next rides. Uber execs spoke with BI at the Cannes Lions ad festival as it pitched marketers on its ad business. This article is part of " CMO Insider," a series on marketing leadership and innovation. Need a cab? This ad's got you covered. Uber this week said it's launching a new ad format that lets brands offer its users cash off their next rides. Beverage company Molson Coors is the launch advertiser for Ride Offers. Brands like Coors Light will show up with ads in the Uber app as users check their phones to see where their driver is, offering users an Uber discount. Uber also pitched its newly launched Creative Studio to advertisers attending meetings at its villa set-up in Cannes. This team works on more bespoke offerings for advertisers, like offering rides to Miami F1 Grand Prix attendees in a luxury vehicle sponsored by La Mer, packed with freebie skincare products. In another example, Uber Eats users could order Christmas carolers to their doors, sponsored by the alcohol company Diageo. "Our audience is always looking for an opportunity to drive savings and get affordable things, but also get messages that are personalized and relevant for them," Kristi Argyilan, the global head of Uber Advertising, told Business Insider at the Cannes Lions advertising festival in France on Wednesday. Uber said in May of this year that its ad business, which launched in 2022, had reached a $1.5 billion revenue run rate — the number it expects to achieve by the end of 2025 — which was up 60% versus last year. The company does not break out a more specific ad revenue figure in its financial filings. It serves ads on the Uber app, on in-car screens, in emails to its users, and on car tops. Argylian said Uber is looking at ways to ramp up its ad business outside its cars and apps. It's working on letting advertisers use its data and context about how users have been recently using Uber and Uber Eats to target ads on other websites and apps. An Uber user might be viewing the app to check the arrival of their car, then flip to scrolling on TikTok once they get inside, where Uber can serve an ad specific to that user. It's a similar context to the Meta Audience Network. "Purchase-based data and the location-based data is what's really fueling the experience," said Megan Ramm, global head of sales at Uber Advertising. Paul Frampton-Calero, chief executive of the digital marketing company Goodway Group, said Uber's challenge in capturing ad budgets is that it's operating in a crowded market. It's not just fighting for attention with the likes of Google, Meta, and Amazon. It's also competing with the retail media networks from supermarkets and other companies that already have long-standing brand relationships. "Uber isn't naturally somebody most brands are going to build those strong top-to-top relationships with," Frampton-Calero said. "It's hard enough building a relationship with Google, Meta, Spotify, TikTok, and then having to work out where to put Google in that mix." Still, he added, Uber's advantage is its mix of data. "Uber knows a lot about the type of people that like Mexican food who spend time at a particular part of town and visit the airport four times a quarter," Frampton-Calero said. "Then you can make some assumptions about what a high net income audience looks like and how to market to them."
Business Insider
3 days ago
- Business Insider
I never talk to strangers on the plane. After my dad died, a passenger helped me talk about my grief.
I was traveling alone to see my mom after my dad had died. I sat next to a stranger who shared that they had also lost their dad. We shared our stories of grief, and I hadn't realized how much I needed someone to listen to me. Airplanes are curious places where we are suspended between the sky and the earth. We board, settle in, and surrender to something larger than ourselves. Conversations that might never happen on solid ground take shape in the air. For introverted travelers like me, who navigate the world inwardly, travel experiences are often vastly different from those of our extroverted counterparts. We tend to avoid crowds and prefer slower, more reflective in-flight experiences. I use headphones to immerse myself in a movie or listen to a book so as not to be perceived by those surrounding me. Without asking, the universe rearranged its stars to land me beside someone whose presence made silence feel less like hiding and more like sharing. My dad had just died During holiday travel, fate seated me next to a jovial, red-headed, red-bearded man in a baseball cap with a beaming smile. He asked if I was going home for the holidays. I said yes and shared that I would be with my mom for Christmas, the first without my dad. His smile didn't disappear, but became small and soft. He nodded not with pity but with recognition. He said softly, "I lost my dad a few years ago." In that moment, my fellow passengers and I transformed from strangers into a community bound by shared experiences. We were members of a club that no one had willingly sought to join. From that point on, I forgot all about my headphones. My seatmate listened as I shared how my dad had been immensely funny and made people laugh. He was always willing to listen to others' views, reminding us that not everyone sees the world the same way. A love of travel came naturally to my father. So, when I think of him, I immediately go somewhere sunny and tropical in my mind. He helped me talk about my grief "Did your dad have a favorite place he liked to travel to?" he asked, eyes soft with interest. "My dad preferred to travel to places where he could drink in the sunshine and the smiles of the local people. He wanted to understand people and their stories," I shared. My dad would give you the hat off his head, and he did so for a boy in St. Lucia who admired his cap. With a grin, he handed it over to the child, who wore it like a crown, rather than a sun-faded souvenir. From there, we discussed how grief changes your everyday life in ways you never imagined. Then my seatmate said something that has helped me ever since that trip — "we become ambassadors for those who can no longer speak for themselves." The power of that thought reframed how I carry my grief to this day. Grief is a strange companion that follows you through empty family rooms, past favorite chairs, and onto airplanes. Every story we tell and memory we share keeps our loved ones alive. People are expected to speak of their loved ones, but rarely of the ones they have lost. Not everything about death and loss needs to be buried in silence. I hadn't realized how much I needed to come to this realization. More than anything, I needed permission to feel how difficult it had all been, and to treat myself accordingly. Now I acknowledge the passengers beside me in case they need me The stranger beside me helped in the absolute best way by simply being willing to listen. We think of travel as crossing geography, but more often, we're crossing into new emotional territory. Once we land, collect our bags, and merge into the stream of people heading toward taxis and loved ones, that brief connection disappears. It dissolves into the ordinary rush of arrivals. Since that flight, I pause before putting on my headphones and make an effort to acknowledge the people around me. The vulnerability of being far from home or the rawness of facing personal challenges while traveling now encourages me to strive to be more authentic in my interactions. Not every seatmate may want to talk, and most people might not even look up. But some will, and I will be ready to listen.
