Renting an apartment in a foreign country is a way to live alongside locals — and feel more like a resident than a tourist. Renting also can buy more for your vacation dollar, especially in Spain, which has been hit hard in the European economic smackdown and where prices are more reasonable than in other parts of the Continent.

• PHOTOS: Madrid’s tapas, toros and gin-tonics

Our renovated two-bedroom flat on a narrow cobblestone street in the historic city center costs about $150 a night (about $125 in slow periods). It comes with a fully equipped kitchen including dishwasher, and washer/dryer, complimentary Wi-Fi, a flat-screen TV and small modern bathroom with granite counter and hair dryer. I rented from Spain Select, a firm I found on the Internet that has a good-looking portfolio of apartments. Madrid offerings start at about $100 a day, says reservations manager Caroline Rees, who estimates that 70% of clients are from the USA.

After a personable Spain Select staffer lets us into the “Leon” flat and shows us how things work, we take keys in hand, exit the tile-floored lobby through a heavy, ancient wooden door and start to explore.

Seeing how the locals live 

Down the street is a small, appealing-looking coffeehouse, Bar La Piola, where the happy chatter of regulars greeted with a breezy “¿Qué tal?” (How are things going?) lures us to a white wooden table. At the metal counter under a chalkboard menu, slim brunette Marina Urgoiti serves up steaming espresso with hot milk and recommends a “tosta” of toasted bread topped with tomato and bubbly white cheese. It’s a slice of heaven for $4.50.

If you go to Madrid …

Where to stay: Live like a local by renting an apartment through an agency such as Spain Select (spain-select.com) or via an owner (VRBO.com. is a reputable site). It?s not hard to find a well-located property starting at about $100 a day (a cleaning fee may be extra). Drawbacks: Dealing with an individual owner can be more of a hassle than staying at a hotel if problems arise. Spain Select has a 4 p.m. check-in time, which can be frustrating if you arrive in the early a.m. on an overnight flight from the USA. However, it will try to arrange earlier check-in if the apartment is available.

Where to eat: Look for restaurants favored by locals; many serve a three-course lunch for less than $15. Tapas bars such as Casa Alberto at 18 Calle de las Huertas or Lateral (multiple locations) offer inexpensive small plates and wine.

Getting around: Central Madrid is packed with attractions such as the Prado museum. It is easy to get around by foot. Otherwise, the extensive Madrid Metro system is an inexpensive and easy option. Fares start at $1.90 a trip, and you can access the airport. Buy tourist passes or order a MadridCard that gets you into attractions and onto transport (MadridCard.com).

Information:esmadrid.com/en/

My travel partner, Barry, and I are thrilled that we’ve ended up in the Barrio de las Letras, a partially pedestrian-only area once home to great Spanish writers such as Cervantes and Lope de Vega. It also houses excellent tapas bars and is close to museums including the Reina Sofía and Prado.

At the Reina Sofía, we wade through tour groups to get a close-up of Picasso’s Guernica, which depicts the bombing of a Basque village and helped bring global attention to atrocities committed in the Spanish Civil War. At the Prado, we stand in a long line for the chance to view works by Goya and El Greco.

After picking up groceries — another perk of renting is snacks, drinks and meals in the fridge — we head back to “our” apartment to prepare for Spanish nightlife. Living like a pleasure-loving Madrileño means understanding the importance of the siesta (small shops still close for a few hours in the afternoon for owners to eat lunch or relax).

A night of flamenco, football and food 

Our nights on the town often begin with a gin and tonic (all the rage in Madrid and sometimes served in huge goblets with fruit). At dimly lit, intimate Guau (Spanish slang for “wow”), we watch a European Champions League semifinal soccer game with a crusty barman who dismisses as theater the antics of stars trying to avoid being called for a foul.

Next stop: a tapas bar, to try small plates of various delicacies. At crowded Casa Alberto, which dates to 1827, we are taken under the wing of bartender Javier Carpintero (“Call me Javi”), who recommends anchovies on toast and veal meatballs. As we stand wedged in at the counter, he passes free plates of Spain’s sharp Manchego cheese and tangy marinated green olives, urging us to wash it all down with a crisp white Spanish Rueda wine (less than $3.50 a glass) or dry Fino sherry. Avoiding the $20 plate of Ibérico ham, sliced from a haunch at the end of the counter, we emerge with wallets lightened by just $35.

By Kitty Bean Yancey, USA TODAY

At Lateral, patrons page their servers with a button.

On to a newer, hip tapas destination: a branch of the chain Lateral. Surrounded by young Spaniards at blond wood tables gossiping about work or relationships, we use a button to summon a server and order dishes such as smoked tuna with tomato jam. Then we stroll to one of Madrid’s famed flamenco venues, also in our neighborhood. At Casa Patas, we’re ushered past velvet curtains to a small table near a stage where performers are wailing mournful songs, strumming acoustic guitars, clapping and whirling and stomping in rhythm.

By now it’s almost 1 a.m., early by Madrid standards but late for two Statesiders past college age. But on the way back home, we can’t resist a nightcap at Miranda, named for the late fruit-headdress wearing samba singer/actress. The crowd is watching reruns of that very tense soccer game, which Real Madrid lost in an overtime shootout to Germany’s Bayern Munich. As Munich fans cheer, we walk the half-block home.

Downturn doesn’t dampen energy 

Before landing in Spain, we didn’t know what to expect in a country where unemployment is close to 25% and whose fortunes keep taking a turn for the worse. But for tourists, Madrid doesn’t seem like a city on the verge of an economic breakdown.

Beggars are not ubiquitous in tourist areas — though one did allude to what locals call la crisis with a sign saying he was 54 years old and can’t find a job or get help from relatives. Parks and attractions are well-maintained.

Restaurants and retailers such as the famous flagship department store of Spain’s El Corte Inglés chain are busy. Cab drivers say tourism is so important that everything possible is being done to assure pleasant experiences.

At Ten Con Ten, a pricey restaurant near the upscale Calle Serrano shopping area, every table is taken at 10:45 p.m. on a recent Sunday. Stick-thin fashionistas with blond highlights and their fuller-bodied mates order Champagne and exquisitely prepared black cod with apples. Late-model Mercedes and BMWs wait at the curb under the eye of a valet.

By Kitty Bean Yancey, USA TODAY

Marina Urgoiti is a welcoming presence at La Piola. She speaks multiple languages and is happy to recommend non-touristy places to visit.

Back at the Leon apartment, named for the street it’s on, the time has come to pack. But before leaving Madrid, we make time for one last coffee at La Piola.

By now, Marina is greeting us with a “¿Qué tal?”, too. She has given us restaurant suggestions and directed us to the Mercado de San Miguel, a covered market that attracts locals and tourists with paella stands, tapas bars, ice cream vendors and bakeries — whose wares can be washed down with wine at communal tables.

She wishes us a safe trip and sends us off with: “Hasta la próxima” (until the next time). And if there is one, it’s a good bet we’ll be back in the neighborhood, living la vida local.

He’d been as quiet as a statue for the two hours since we left Seattle. When he finally spoke, it was to say, “Oh, look, chicken sandwiches, only $1.05.”

People who haven’t spent time with a spiritual master might think that being in their presence has a calming affect, that wisdom drips from their lips like nectar. But in my experience, masters of meditation and miracles are not so easy to be around.

I have known this particular guru for about 14 years; he is a yogi, a brilliant meditation master and an award-winning filmmaker from the Kingdom of Bhutan. I call him Rinpoche (RIM-po-shay), an honorific akin to reverend or rabbi. And when I’m in his presence for any extended period of time, it’s as if I become invisible.

Then again, at the most unexpected moments (over fries at Hooters, for example), he’ll give me his full attention to deliver a brief instruction, like “Fall in love” or “Lose your address book and go to India,” and my life is changed.

Over the years he has asked me to do all variety of odd things, so I didn’t think much of it when he asked me to fetch a map of the United States. He was wrapping up a teaching in Seattle and wanted to take his time and see a bit of the country before his next engagement in New York City.

That he would take the time for a vacation was a surprise and a relief to those who know him. He flies almost every week of the year, accepting as many invitations as he can to meet the needs of his students around the world. So I looked for a road map.

My friend Emily, who travels with the guru wherever he goes, nudged him and said, “Aren’t you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That she’s driving?”

“Oh yeah,” he said without looking up from his iPad. “Right.”

And that’s how I found out that I would be spending the next three weeks at the wheel, a holy man at my side, all of the United States in front of me.

Being asked to chauffeur was, to me, a thrilling honor like being asked to drive the president or the pope. But it was also scary, like being asked to transport someone’s kidney.

I would have help. Along with Emily, there would be David, a phlegmatic retired therapist and former New York City taxi driver. When I asked him why he thought he’d been selected, he said, “Rinpoche’s going on vacation and I guess he knew I’d be pretty low maintenance since I don’t talk a lot.” My mind immediately began wheeling. Why me? I remember Rinpoche telling us that when Lord Atisha traveled to Tibet, he intentionally took along the most infuriating person he knew so there’d be plenty of opportunities for practicing patience. Am I that person?

One of Buddhism’s famous sayings is: “Drive all blames into one,” which is funny when you have friends named Juan. It’s meant to point to the ego as the one root of all suffering. But in the case of our little road trip, I was the Juan. As the primary planner I would be the bearer of bad news, the target of raised eyebrows, the one responsible for tedium and sad continental breakfast options.

But we started out well enough. David picked out a comfortable Chevy Traverse and I charted the first part of our journey, a four-day trip from Seattle to Boulder, Colo., my hometown, where we would stay a week. On the morning of departure, Rinpoche’s devotees came to see us off, offering him white scarves and bowing with worried looks on their faces. One approached, hugging me as she whispered, “Drive safe.”

A whisper can be so loud and penetrating. It was now up to me to deliver Rinpoche, the most precious human these people know, safely to Midtown Manhattan.

Comfort Inn guests will soon be noticing some changes.

Next month, Comfort Inn Suites hotel will open in Spokane Valley, Wash., as the brand’s first newly redesigned property. The hotel’s furniture, fixtures and equipment were all replaced to fit into the new Comfort Truly Yours design.

Choice Hotels International, Comfort’s parent company, got feedback from more than 1,500 guests to come up with the new design. More than 100 properties are in the midst of a redesign. Others will follow, with the brand-wide overhaul scheduled to be completed by 2015. The company has said it is willing to close up to 10% of its Comfort hotels if they don’t meet guest satisfaction standards.

ALSO ONLINE:  Loews Coronado Bay hotel lifts veil on renovations
READ MORE:  Tripadvisor unveils Travelers’ choice best hotels awards

“Our goal is to make Comfort more competitive, more consistent and more contemporary,” said Christina Williamson, senior director of brand strategy for Comfort Inn and Comfort Suites at Choice Hotels International.

Changes include new uniforms for staff and new front desk areas with a welcome wall incorporating a reception desk and stone backdrop with soft lighting.

By the end of 2013, the “Truly Yours” bedding program will be in place. It includes an upgrade of more than 234,000 beds and nearly 1 million pillows. Guests will have a choice of soft or firm pillows when they check in.

Comfort Suites will have new “Your Suite Success” in-room recharge stations at every location by June 1. The fitness centers are also getting an upgrade.

Some changes have already been made. Last year, all Comfort hotels began featuring the upgraded Your Morning Breakfast, which includes hot items and new flavored waffles.

It was my vague notion to drive from my hotel near Canyon de Chelly to Hotevilla, a town about 100 miles away on the Hopi reservation. In reality I was not headed anywhere specific so much as I was fleeing the confusion of a sad and bitter winter. I thought somehow I might find peace in a region as large as West Virginia and about as heavily populated as Mars. I left at 8 in the morning and returned nine hours later, having traveled more than 300 miles.

I love to drive and enjoy it so much it gives me pleasure even to make the declaration. But because I live in New York City and take public transportation everywhere my feet won’t carry me, I am sadly deprived of this rudimentary American pleasure. The cars in which I travel mostly have ticking meters above the dashboard and tend to be operated by a marginally lunatic person gibbering into a Bluetooth.

So seldom do I drive these days and so special is the experience that I still get a little canine jolt of excitement whenever someone rattles keys. Surely this sentiment cannot be shared by the greater population, for which, I imagine, driving long ago ceased to be an adventure, a portal to freedom. It is, rather, a chore and a nuisance, the thing you do to get from swim meets to soccer practice, from the split-level in Armonk to parking level 3 at the mall.

In a car I feel free, in my own autonomous zone, and in a sense that feeling is not misplaced. Cars are among the few remaining spheres in which it is possible to be uninterruptedly alone with one’s thoughts. In a constitutional sense, too, that privacy is real. No one is invited to enter my automobile without due cause and probably also a warrant or unless that person is carrying a tray with burgers and fries.

For as long as it lasts and until the robots take over, it remains possible to experience in a car that thrilling breakaway feeling celebrated by Jack Kerouac and other gassy laureates of asphalt and also by more companionably sprightly runaways like Thelma and Louise. It won’t be this way forever, as we all know: global positioning systems already have us pinned to a cosmic surveillance grid. Yet freedom is what I felt as I headed south on Highway 191.

That the American road system is a crowning achievement of Western civilization is too little appreciated. The gorgeous blue highways slashing straight across the country, the sinuous coast roads hugging vertiginous cliffs, the corrugated back country lanes no longer attract poets like Woody Guthrie. If they did, odes would be written to the stretch of 191 between Chinle and Ganado, one snippet of an elegant historic roadway engineered so that on maps it resembles a zipper fastening the Western states to the rest of the land. Traversing the country longitudinally from border to border, Highway 191 crosses the Rockies and links Canada to Mexico.

But the piece I know best runs die-straight through tableland south of the Defiance Plateau, paralleling the rim of a pinkish mesa that, just yards from the shoulder, falls away steeply to the aptly named Beautiful Valley. The distance between Chinle and Ganado is not much, maybe 40 miles, and can be covered in about that many minutes, less if there are no Navajo Nation police patrols around.

I drove south that morning and then west, stopping briefly in the plaza of a scrubby pueblo, where some bare-chested locals dressed as kachinas seemed to be readying for a sacred ceremony. It was not long before a couple of the men ran at me with menace. Taking the hint, I peeled out quickly, stopping next at a roadside card table where a Hopi woman sold bottled water and jewelry made from minute discs of white shell.

Norwegian Cruise Line today unveiled a three-day promotion on Alaska cruises that includes a $100 per cabin on-board spending credit.

The Alaska Bonus Weekend offer, as it’s being called, is available for 2012 sailings in the region on the Norwegian Jewel or Norwegian Pearl, both of which are sailing to Alaska this summer out of Seattle.

Norwegian says would-be Alaska cruisers also can get up to $500 in airfare credits on select sailings and an e-coupon booklet that could bring up to $400 more in on-board savings.

RELATED:  Look inside a Norwegian Cruise Line ship

More information on the Alaska Bonus Weekend offer is available at Norwegian’s website.

He’d been as quiet as a statue for the two hours since we left Seattle. When he finally spoke, it was to say, “Oh, look, chicken sandwiches, only $1.05.”

People who haven’t spent time with a spiritual master might think that being in their presence has a calming affect, that wisdom drips from their lips like nectar. But in my experience, masters of meditation and miracles are not so easy to be around.

I have known this particular guru for about 14 years; he is a yogi, a brilliant meditation master and an award-winning filmmaker from the Kingdom of Bhutan. I call him Rinpoche (RIM-po-shay), an honorific akin to reverend or rabbi. And when I’m in his presence for any extended period of time, it’s as if I become invisible.

Then again, at the most unexpected moments (over fries at Hooters, for example), he’ll give me his full attention to deliver a brief instruction, like “Fall in love” or “Lose your address book and go to India,” and my life is changed.

Over the years he has asked me to do all variety of odd things, so I didn’t think much of it when he asked me to fetch a map of the United States. He was wrapping up a teaching in Seattle and wanted to take his time and see a bit of the country before his next engagement in New York City.

That he would take the time for a vacation was a surprise and a relief to those who know him. He flies almost every week of the year, accepting as many invitations as he can to meet the needs of his students around the world. So I looked for a road map.

My friend Emily, who travels with the guru wherever he goes, nudged him and said, “Aren’t you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That she’s driving?”

“Oh yeah,” he said without looking up from his iPad. “Right.”

And that’s how I found out that I would be spending the next three weeks at the wheel, a holy man at my side, all of the United States in front of me.

Being asked to chauffeur was, to me, a thrilling honor like being asked to drive the president or the pope. But it was also scary, like being asked to transport someone’s kidney.

I would have help. Along with Emily, there would be David, a phlegmatic retired therapist and former New York City taxi driver. When I asked him why he thought he’d been selected, he said, “Rinpoche’s going on vacation and I guess he knew I’d be pretty low maintenance since I don’t talk a lot.” My mind immediately began wheeling. Why me? I remember Rinpoche telling us that when Lord Atisha traveled to Tibet, he intentionally took along the most infuriating person he knew so there’d be plenty of opportunities for practicing patience. Am I that person?

One of Buddhism’s famous sayings is: “Drive all blames into one,” which is funny when you have friends named Juan. It’s meant to point to the ego as the one root of all suffering. But in the case of our little road trip, I was the Juan. As the primary planner I would be the bearer of bad news, the target of raised eyebrows, the one responsible for tedium and sad continental breakfast options.

But we started out well enough. David picked out a comfortable Chevy Traverse and I charted the first part of our journey, a four-day trip from Seattle to Boulder, Colo., my hometown, where we would stay a week. On the morning of departure, Rinpoche’s devotees came to see us off, offering him white scarves and bowing with worried looks on their faces. One approached, hugging me as she whispered, “Drive safe.”

A whisper can be so loud and penetrating. It was now up to me to deliver Rinpoche, the most precious human these people know, safely to Midtown Manhattan.

UPDATE: Can’t make it out West to view Sunday’s annular eclipse in person? The National Park Service will broadcast the eclipse live by webcast from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. from New Mexico’s Petroglyph National Monument.

ORIGINAL POST: In the hours just before sunset on Sunday, May 20, the first solar eclipse in the USA in nearly two decades will dazzle viewers along a swath from the Pacific Coast to Texas.

And some of the best places to see the annular eclipse – one in which all but the outermost rim of the sun is blocked by the moon, leaving a “bull’s eye” ring of sunlight – are national parks, where rangers and astronomers offer “solar parties” and other special programs.

Weather permitting , visitors at 33 national parks along the eclipse path will see the disc of the moon within the disc of the sun, with six parks – Redwoods and Lassen Volcanic in California; Zion in Utah, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Arizona and Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico – at the center of the eclipse path.

TWITTER:  Follow USA TODAY’s Laura Bly

Another 125 national parks, most of them west of the Mississippi River and in Alaska, will offer a partial eclipse view.

“Think of Pac Man taking a bite out of the sun,” National Park Service Director Jonathan B. Jarvis said in a release. “That ‘bite’ will take out 55 to 80% of the disc of the sun depending on where you are and that’s still a very special experience.”

Because the sun won’t be completely blocked, viewers must use special solar glasses or other eye protection to view it.

Reservations-required viewing programs at Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument are already full, but the Los Angeles Times notes that telescopes will be available on both the South and North rims of Grand Canyon National Park (where park bookstores will sell solar viewing cards for $1 while supplies last.)

For more information and details on viewing options, check out the park service’s eclipse site.

An earlier version of this story gave an incorrect location for Canyon de Chelly National Monument. It is in northeastern Arizona.

UPDATE: Can’t make it out West to view Sunday’s annular eclipse in person? The National Park Service will broadcast the eclipse live by webcast from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. from New Mexico’s Petroglyph National Monument.

ORIGINAL POST: In the hours just before sunset on Sunday, May 20, the first solar eclipse in the USA in nearly two decades will dazzle viewers along a swath from the Pacific Coast to Texas.

And some of the best places to see the annular eclipse – one in which all but the outermost rim of the sun is blocked by the moon, leaving a “bull’s eye” ring of sunlight – are national parks, where rangers and astronomers offer “solar parties” and other special programs.

Weather permitting , visitors at 33 national parks along the eclipse path will see the disc of the moon within the disc of the sun, with six parks – Redwoods and Lassen Volcanic in California; Zion in Utah, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Arizona and Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico – at the center of the eclipse path.

TWITTER:  Follow USA TODAY’s Laura Bly

Another 125 national parks, most of them west of the Mississippi River and in Alaska, will offer a partial eclipse view.

“Think of Pac Man taking a bite out of the sun,” National Park Service Director Jonathan B. Jarvis said in a release. “That ‘bite’ will take out 55 to 80% of the disc of the sun depending on where you are and that’s still a very special experience.”

Because the sun won’t be completely blocked, viewers must use special solar glasses or other eye protection to view it.

Reservations-required viewing programs at Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument are already full, but the Los Angeles Times notes that telescopes will be available on both the South and North rims of Grand Canyon National Park (where park bookstores will sell solar viewing cards for $1 while supplies last.)

For more information and details on viewing options, check out the park service’s eclipse site.

An earlier version of this story gave an incorrect location for Canyon de Chelly National Monument. It is in northeastern Arizona.

UPDATE: Can’t make it out West to view Sunday’s annular eclipse in person? The National Park Service will broadcast the eclipse live by webcast from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. from New Mexico’s Petroglyph National Monument.

ORIGINAL POST: In the hours just before sunset on Sunday, May 20, the first solar eclipse in the USA in nearly two decades will dazzle viewers along a swath from the Pacific Coast to Texas.

And some of the best places to see the annular eclipse – one in which all but the outermost rim of the sun is blocked by the moon, leaving a “bull’s eye” ring of sunlight – are national parks, where rangers and astronomers offer “solar parties” and other special programs.

Weather permitting , visitors at 33 national parks along the eclipse path will see the disc of the moon within the disc of the sun, with six parks – Redwoods and Lassen Volcanic in California; Zion in Utah, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Arizona and Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico – at the center of the eclipse path.

TWITTER:  Follow USA TODAY’s Laura Bly

Another 125 national parks, most of them west of the Mississippi River and in Alaska, will offer a partial eclipse view.

“Think of Pac Man taking a bite out of the sun,” National Park Service Director Jonathan B. Jarvis said in a release. “That ‘bite’ will take out 55 to 80% of the disc of the sun depending on where you are and that’s still a very special experience.”

Because the sun won’t be completely blocked, viewers must use special solar glasses or other eye protection to view it.

Reservations-required viewing programs at Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument are already full, but the Los Angeles Times notes that telescopes will be available on both the South and North rims of Grand Canyon National Park (where park bookstores will sell solar viewing cards for $1 while supplies last.)

For more information and details on viewing options, check out the park service’s eclipse site.

An earlier version of this story gave an incorrect location for Canyon de Chelly National Monument. It is in northeastern Arizona.

UPDATE: Can’t make it out West to view Sunday’s annular eclipse in person? The National Park Service will broadcast the eclipse live by webcast from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. from New Mexico’s Petroglyph National Monument.

ORIGINAL POST: In the hours just before sunset on Sunday, May 20, the first solar eclipse in the USA in nearly two decades will dazzle viewers along a swath from the Pacific Coast to Texas.

And some of the best places to see the annular eclipse – one in which all but the outermost rim of the sun is blocked by the moon, leaving a “bull’s eye” ring of sunlight – are national parks, where rangers and astronomers offer “solar parties” and other special programs.

Weather permitting , visitors at 33 national parks along the eclipse path will see the disc of the moon within the disc of the sun, with six parks – Redwoods and Lassen Volcanic in California; Zion in Utah, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area and Canyon De Chelly National Monument in Arizona and Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico – at the center of the eclipse path.

TWITTER:  Follow USA TODAY’s Laura Bly

Another 125 national parks, most of them west of the Mississippi River and in Alaska, will offer a partial eclipse view.

“Think of Pac Man taking a bite out of the sun,” National Park Service Director Jonathan B. Jarvis said in a release. “That ‘bite’ will take out 55 to 80% of the disc of the sun depending on where you are and that’s still a very special experience.”

Because the sun won’t be completely blocked, viewers must use special solar glasses or other eye protection to view it.

Reservations-required viewing programs at Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument are already full, but the Los Angeles Times notes that telescopes will be available on both the South and North rims of Grand Canyon National Park (where park bookstores will sell solar viewing cards for $1 while supplies last.)

For more information and details on viewing options, check out the park service’s eclipse site.

An earlier version of this story gave an incorrect location for Canyon de Chelly National Monument. It is in northeastern Arizona.

A. My family took trips for two reasons only: to attend Sanctified Brethren Bible conferences for several days of preaching and Bible study or to visit relatives who we actually liked, so my memories of travel are tied up with the Book of Deuteronomy and the imminence of the second coming, or feeding Aunt Bessie’s chickens.

We rode in a Ford station wagon, my mother with a breadboard on her lap making baloney sandwiches to save money, my dad at the wheel, and I with my face to the window inhaling the scenery. The West was a mythical land to an American boy back then, and as you rode through Montana, you could visualize Roy and Gene and John Wayne galloping along in defense of women and children and civilization.

Now, as an adult, I mostly travel on business, meaning that I’m treated like a 10-year-old child: I fly, someone meets the plane, I’m taken to a hotel, people wait on me. As a child, you suffered boredom, which made you a keen observer of your surroundings, and then something fabulous happens — your cousin asks if you want to drive the tractor and there you are, 11 years old, shifting an Allis-Chalmers into gear and bouncing up a dirt road in the mountains over the St. Joe river. The memory of the smell of exhaust and pines and wet forest floor is permanent. There is nothing memorable about airports. Nothing whatever.

Q. Have you ever felt carried away by a particular place in America?

A. Well, the Grand Canyon, of course, and the coastline of Maine and a slow Sunday morning drive from Memphis to Nashville through little towns of old white houses with big gardens burgeoning with jasmine and honeysuckle. And then there is North Dakota, which is sheer grandeur, but you have to get off the freeway and get out of the car and walk. If you hike 10 miles at night on the High Plains of North Dakota, it could change your life. And for the good.

Q. You once wrote, “Travel is the art form available to Everyman. You sit in the coffee shop in a strange city and nobody knows who you are, or cares, and so you shed your checkered past and your motley credentials and you face the day unarmed… ” Is this your ideal way to travel?

A. It is. I like to sit in coffee shops and pass for a native and so I’ve missed out on the Louvre, the Acropolis, the Roman catacombs, the Lincoln Memorial, because I didn’t want to be taken for a tourist. I love London as a walking city. You set out lumbering down medieval streets, wander impulsively and let yourself get lost and stop for lunch and wander further. When you’re tired of being lost, you hail a cab. That’s a day well spent.

Q. Have you noticed any changes to the character of the regions you travel?

A. I don’t hear accents as I used to, either Southern or Western or New England or New York. My friend Ira of Brooklyn is a rare speaker of that delicious tongue. Maybe comedy and caricature killed them off. The Minnesota accent is now “done” by children as a joke, the accent that all my aunts and uncles favored. This is an impoverishment that makes me a little wistful. But of course I fixed my own accent back when I got into radio, so I should talk.

A. My family took trips for two reasons only: to attend Sanctified Brethren Bible conferences for several days of preaching and Bible study or to visit relatives who we actually liked, so my memories of travel are tied up with the Book of Deuteronomy and the imminence of the second coming, or feeding Aunt Bessie’s chickens.

We rode in a Ford station wagon, my mother with a breadboard on her lap making baloney sandwiches to save money, my dad at the wheel, and I with my face to the window inhaling the scenery. The West was a mythical land to an American boy back then, and as you rode through Montana, you could visualize Roy and Gene and John Wayne galloping along in defense of women and children and civilization.

Now, as an adult, I mostly travel on business, meaning that I’m treated like a 10-year-old child: I fly, someone meets the plane, I’m taken to a hotel, people wait on me. As a child, you suffered boredom, which made you a keen observer of your surroundings, and then something fabulous happens — your cousin asks if you want to drive the tractor and there you are, 11 years old, shifting an Allis-Chalmers into gear and bouncing up a dirt road in the mountains over the St. Joe river. The memory of the smell of exhaust and pines and wet forest floor is permanent. There is nothing memorable about airports. Nothing whatever.

Q. Have you ever felt carried away by a particular place in America?

A. Well, the Grand Canyon, of course, and the coastline of Maine and a slow Sunday morning drive from Memphis to Nashville through little towns of old white houses with big gardens burgeoning with jasmine and honeysuckle. And then there is North Dakota, which is sheer grandeur, but you have to get off the freeway and get out of the car and walk. If you hike 10 miles at night on the High Plains of North Dakota, it could change your life. And for the good.

Q. You once wrote, “Travel is the art form available to Everyman. You sit in the coffee shop in a strange city and nobody knows who you are, or cares, and so you shed your checkered past and your motley credentials and you face the day unarmed… ” Is this your ideal way to travel?

A. It is. I like to sit in coffee shops and pass for a native and so I’ve missed out on the Louvre, the Acropolis, the Roman catacombs, the Lincoln Memorial, because I didn’t want to be taken for a tourist. I love London as a walking city. You set out lumbering down medieval streets, wander impulsively and let yourself get lost and stop for lunch and wander further. When you’re tired of being lost, you hail a cab. That’s a day well spent.

Q. Have you noticed any changes to the character of the regions you travel?

A. I don’t hear accents as I used to, either Southern or Western or New England or New York. My friend Ira of Brooklyn is a rare speaker of that delicious tongue. Maybe comedy and caricature killed them off. The Minnesota accent is now “done” by children as a joke, the accent that all my aunts and uncles favored. This is an impoverishment that makes me a little wistful. But of course I fixed my own accent back when I got into radio, so I should talk.

A. My family took trips for two reasons only: to attend Sanctified Brethren Bible conferences for several days of preaching and Bible study or to visit relatives who we actually liked, so my memories of travel are tied up with the Book of Deuteronomy and the imminence of the second coming, or feeding Aunt Bessie’s chickens.

We rode in a Ford station wagon, my mother with a breadboard on her lap making baloney sandwiches to save money, my dad at the wheel, and I with my face to the window inhaling the scenery. The West was a mythical land to an American boy back then, and as you rode through Montana, you could visualize Roy and Gene and John Wayne galloping along in defense of women and children and civilization.

Now, as an adult, I mostly travel on business, meaning that I’m treated like a 10-year-old child: I fly, someone meets the plane, I’m taken to a hotel, people wait on me. As a child, you suffered boredom, which made you a keen observer of your surroundings, and then something fabulous happens — your cousin asks if you want to drive the tractor and there you are, 11 years old, shifting an Allis-Chalmers into gear and bouncing up a dirt road in the mountains over the St. Joe river. The memory of the smell of exhaust and pines and wet forest floor is permanent. There is nothing memorable about airports. Nothing whatever.

Q. Have you ever felt carried away by a particular place in America?

A. Well, the Grand Canyon, of course, and the coastline of Maine and a slow Sunday morning drive from Memphis to Nashville through little towns of old white houses with big gardens burgeoning with jasmine and honeysuckle. And then there is North Dakota, which is sheer grandeur, but you have to get off the freeway and get out of the car and walk. If you hike 10 miles at night on the High Plains of North Dakota, it could change your life. And for the good.

Q. You once wrote, “Travel is the art form available to Everyman. You sit in the coffee shop in a strange city and nobody knows who you are, or cares, and so you shed your checkered past and your motley credentials and you face the day unarmed… ” Is this your ideal way to travel?

A. It is. I like to sit in coffee shops and pass for a native and so I’ve missed out on the Louvre, the Acropolis, the Roman catacombs, the Lincoln Memorial, because I didn’t want to be taken for a tourist. I love London as a walking city. You set out lumbering down medieval streets, wander impulsively and let yourself get lost and stop for lunch and wander further. When you’re tired of being lost, you hail a cab. That’s a day well spent.

Q. Have you noticed any changes to the character of the regions you travel?

A. I don’t hear accents as I used to, either Southern or Western or New England or New York. My friend Ira of Brooklyn is a rare speaker of that delicious tongue. Maybe comedy and caricature killed them off. The Minnesota accent is now “done” by children as a joke, the accent that all my aunts and uncles favored. This is an impoverishment that makes me a little wistful. But of course I fixed my own accent back when I got into radio, so I should talk.

A. My family took trips for two reasons only: to attend Sanctified Brethren Bible conferences for several days of preaching and Bible study or to visit relatives who we actually liked, so my memories of travel are tied up with the Book of Deuteronomy and the imminence of the second coming, or feeding Aunt Bessie’s chickens.

We rode in a Ford station wagon, my mother with a breadboard on her lap making baloney sandwiches to save money, my dad at the wheel, and I with my face to the window inhaling the scenery. The West was a mythical land to an American boy back then, and as you rode through Montana, you could visualize Roy and Gene and John Wayne galloping along in defense of women and children and civilization.

Now, as an adult, I mostly travel on business, meaning that I’m treated like a 10-year-old child: I fly, someone meets the plane, I’m taken to a hotel, people wait on me. As a child, you suffered boredom, which made you a keen observer of your surroundings, and then something fabulous happens — your cousin asks if you want to drive the tractor and there you are, 11 years old, shifting an Allis-Chalmers into gear and bouncing up a dirt road in the mountains over the St. Joe river. The memory of the smell of exhaust and pines and wet forest floor is permanent. There is nothing memorable about airports. Nothing whatever.

Q. Have you ever felt carried away by a particular place in America?

A. Well, the Grand Canyon, of course, and the coastline of Maine and a slow Sunday morning drive from Memphis to Nashville through little towns of old white houses with big gardens burgeoning with jasmine and honeysuckle. And then there is North Dakota, which is sheer grandeur, but you have to get off the freeway and get out of the car and walk. If you hike 10 miles at night on the High Plains of North Dakota, it could change your life. And for the good.

Q. You once wrote, “Travel is the art form available to Everyman. You sit in the coffee shop in a strange city and nobody knows who you are, or cares, and so you shed your checkered past and your motley credentials and you face the day unarmed… ” Is this your ideal way to travel?

A. It is. I like to sit in coffee shops and pass for a native and so I’ve missed out on the Louvre, the Acropolis, the Roman catacombs, the Lincoln Memorial, because I didn’t want to be taken for a tourist. I love London as a walking city. You set out lumbering down medieval streets, wander impulsively and let yourself get lost and stop for lunch and wander further. When you’re tired of being lost, you hail a cab. That’s a day well spent.

Q. Have you noticed any changes to the character of the regions you travel?

A. I don’t hear accents as I used to, either Southern or Western or New England or New York. My friend Ira of Brooklyn is a rare speaker of that delicious tongue. Maybe comedy and caricature killed them off. The Minnesota accent is now “done” by children as a joke, the accent that all my aunts and uncles favored. This is an impoverishment that makes me a little wistful. But of course I fixed my own accent back when I got into radio, so I should talk.

Is it due to expire soon? You may be denied entry into certain countries if your passport will expire within three to six months of your ticketed date of return. Get it renewed if you’ll be cutting it close.

Stash photocopies of important travel documents 

Whether at home or abroad, anybody can experience unexpected problems from loss or theft. If you have a copy of a valuable document, it’s easier to replace the original. In fact, make two sets of photocopies of your passport and railpass or car-rental voucher. (For debit and credit cards, just record the numbers, rather than photocopy them.) Pack one copy and leave the other with a buddy at home, to be faxed or emailed to you in case of an emergency. I hide my copy in a second money belt clipped into the bottom of my luggage (don’t tell anyone).

• RICK STEVES: How to avoid travel scams in Europe

• RICK STEVES: Off-season Europe brings bargains, breathing room

Contact your debit- and credit-card companies 

Prior to your trip, call your bank and credit-card company to let them know which countries you’ll be visiting. This will ensure that they don’t decline foreign transactions. While you have them on the line, confirm your debit card’s daily withdrawal limit, request an increase if you want, and ask about fees for international transactions.

Arrange your transportation 

Buy tickets for any flights you might need to take within Europe as early as possible, since the cheapest seats sell out fast. Train travelers should decide whether it makes sense to buy a railpass (these cover trips in one or more countries for a set number of days); if so, you’ll need to buy it before you leave the U.S. If you plan to take the Eurostar between London and Paris, book tickets far ahead for the best fares.

• RICK STEVES: Neighborhood life in Paris

• RICK STEVES: What’s new in France and Spain for 2012

If you’re renting a car, your driver’s license is all you need in most places, but some countries, including Austria, Greece, Italy, and Spain, also require an International Driving Permit. While that’s the letter of the law, I’ve rented cars in dozens of countries without an IDP — and have never been asked to show one. You can get an IDP at your local AAA office.

By Cameron Hewitt

Bring along a copy of your prescriptions from home; if you need to fill one, take it to a European pharmacy.

Take care of medical business 

Visit your doctor to get a checkup, and deal with any dental work that needs to be done. If you use prescription drugs, bring a sufficient supply to cover your trip, along with a copy of your prescription so you can refill it at a European pharmacy if necessary. Call your health insurance provider to see if they cover you internationally or whether you might need to buy special medical insurance.

Look into travel insurance 

This can minimize the financial risks of a vacation. Your potential loss varies, depending on factors such as your health, how much of your trip is prepaid, the refundability of your air ticket, and what coverage you already have (through your medical, homeowners’, or renters’ insurance, and/or credit card).

For me, trip cancellation and interruption insurance is the most usable and worthwhile type. If I think there’s a greater than 1-in-20 chance I’ll need it (for instance, if I have a loved one in frail health at home), this can be a very good value and provide needed assurance. But if I’m healthy and hell-bent on making a trip, I’ll risk it and not spend the extra.

Prepare gadgets for takeoff 

If you plan to use your U.S. mobile phone in Europe, consider signing up for an international calling, text, and/or data plan, and confirm voice- and data-roaming fees. If you’re bringing a mobile device, download any tools that might come in handy on the road, such as translators, maps, transit schedules, e-books, Internet calling apps, and free audio tours (including mine, covering some of Europe’s top sights and neighborhoods).

• RICK STEVES: Europe’s best public squares

• RICK STEVES: What’s new in Italy in 2012

Make sleeping, eating, and sightseeing plans 

For those who want maximum choice and peace of mind, book accommodations well before your trip, especially if you’ll be traveling during peak season, major holidays, or popular festivals. To avoid long lines at major sights, such as the Eiffel Tower and Florence’s Uffizi Gallery, make advance reservations online (I’ll cover this topic in more depth in a future column).

The best travelers are those who plan ahead. With a little advance legwork, you’ll return home with rich stories of spontaneous European adventures.

Rick Steves writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.