Road Warrior Princess

Great Lengths - Snake on the Town!

I must admit, I'm a little jealous of the Bronx Zoo Cobra.

He/She's been tweeting for two days so far, has 130K followers (and counting) and is currently on a whirlwind tour through one of my all time favorite cities.

In reality, though, this is a totally amazing marriage of technology + pr + awareness.  I wonder if the cobra really is missing - it's even better if not.  Better - because it means someone on staff is pretty much a genius at getting the public motivated around a decidedly unfriendly species.

The formula for success?  I'm not sure on the ratios, but terrifying protagonist + minimalist communication platform + cryptic/hilarious postings + shoutouts to local hotspots (and hidden gems) = perfection.  

Fear of snakes is a genuine fear - many people are terrified, and many of a snake's qualities (you know, the slithering, shiny-looking scales, venom, tendency to speak in a deep & evil whisper) do nothing to help its cause.  The idea that a nearly-two-foot-long member (ha ha) of the snake kingdom (or is it genus?) would go missing is basically the theme of untold numbers of horror movies (and nightmares), and fear is often the playmate of fascination.

Whether the snake truly is missing or not is inconsequential for me - what is amazing is the way that the Bronx Zoo architected this marketing scheme, executed it, and activated over 100,000 people to tweet, retweet and listen in 48 hours.  

The choice of Twitter over something like Facebook really works here - the short, simple messages leaves people wanting more, checking often, and asking questions.  The coupling of location-based mentions is a secondary benefit, because it adds a dimension of familiarity with local businesses/attractions and creates loyalty amongst the local populace (hey, the cobra's at my fave cupcake joint! Awesome! Now I totally want a red velvet cupcake!).

It certainly doesn't hurt that the snake has a totally cutting sense of humor (Charlie Sheen references? The creation of the #snakeonthetown hashtag? Brilliant!), but that just adds to the level of rawk here.

If the Zoo has calculated this fully, they will begin to launch opportunities around this Twitter frenzy: perhaps a "Find the Cobra Fund" or a "Cobra Search Party" event to invite kids to search for the cobra on zoo grounds; perhaps a "Cobra Search Tips" aimed at kids to teach them about snakes in general and safety.  The possibilities are endless, but so far, I've been disappointed by their response.  Does this mean it's not a brainchild of the zoo at all?  Or is their distance an even more brilliant tactic?

Now all we can do is wonder what happens next - where will the cobra pop up?  Will there be twitpic cobra sightings?  What sort of media bash will ensue when the cobra is "found" safely (I hope) back at the Zoo?  Would love your comments!

What to do with a Few Spare Hours in Europe

When you think of Brussels, or Belgium in general, you probably think of the waffle, perhaps chocolate, or if you're a bit of an "alcohol connossieur," you may think of beer.  I thought of all those things (bier first, of course), but I also took great excitement in the fact that Belgium counts German as an official language.  So, I embarked on an excursion to Bruxelles from London today with a goal to drink bier and speak in meine Lieblingsprache.

Brussels is a small city, which is perfect when you only have about four hours to spare (which I did).  In fact, I was able to visit the Grand Place/Grote Markt, Kathedraal St. Nicholas, and the Parc de Bruxelles in about an hour and a half. However, please notice that none of the words above are German...and remember my goal #2.

Turns out that even though German is a recognized official language, most people completely ignore that and are, quite frankly, stunned when you approach them speaking it.  I managed to find a handful (okay, maybe three people - that doesn't quite fill a hand) of people.  I was beside myself to have a simple conversation auf Deutsch about directions with a gay couple - I'm surprised they didn't take off running with the way I threw myself at them.  Auf Deutsch, of course.  By the way, throwing yourself at someone auf Deutsch is the equivalent of showing emotion.  For the record.

I'd achieved my goal of German speaking, but I still had to redeem myself by drinking a beer/bier...and there was one more sight left on the list after I'd tackled the park and the palace.  The Manneken Pis.

There's nothing that goes better with beer/bier than urination - they go hand in hand, and please don't go any farther with that statement.  Too late, I know you already went there.

The Manneken Pis is quite famous, and very old - nearly 400 years old.  The peen that launched a thousand imitators is located in close proximity to the Grand Place, but unfortunately, not easy to find on my little map.  No matter, I set off in search of the Little Pee Boy and ultimately a bier/beer.

I found plenty of cherub statues, but this boy was hard to find!  Little did I know - all I had to do was follow the giggling masses and I'd find one of the two substances I was looking for.  At long last I reached him, and - I couldn't even get a good shot.  He was dressed.  Turns out, the Belgians dress him up several times per week, and I totally missed the schedule.  Yes, there's a schedule - and if you happen to have any old suits that you/your children have outgrown, or maybe your dog - you can offer them up for the lil guy.

As you can imagine, all this walking really worked up an appetite!  My time was waning in Bruxelles, but I managed to finally fill my belly with a long-awaited beer/bier (probably not the makings of a filling meal, but nonetheless...).  It was worth the wait - a delicious Witbier - at a proper Belgian bar, complete with inattentive, terrible service.  

I wouldn't have it any other way.

London in (Literally) a Day

I've had quite the adventures in my time.  I can proudly say that I've run a race on the Great Wall of China, I've conquered the ancient Viking village of Birka, Sweden, and now I can add that I've been trapped in the Tower of London to my resume.

Seriously, that place it easy to get lost in!  I was gifted with may wonderful traits, but a sense of direction was not one of them...so when I found myself utterly confused amidst howling battle cries and the sound of iron helmets clanking, I wondered if I was going to be able to escape.

The Tower of London is a large place - full of lawns (prime spots for a private beheading, or maybe a picnic), pathways, exterior towers and turrets, giant cheeky ravens, and of course the prime building - the White Tower.  It may look fairly straightforward from the outside, but don't underestimate that building!

When you don't have much time in a place you'll be visiting, the absolute most important thing to do is prioritize.  Secondly, you must plan.  Plan your schedule, your budget, your route - and of course, plan your mode of transportation.  Plan as much as you can, because...someone or something is going to try to blast your plan to high hell, so you'll need to salvage what you can so you can do what you set out to do.

This is exactly why I had crafted an itinerary with carefully planned directions for myself to get around - timelines, even - so that when I learned that London had shut down the entire Jubilee Underground line in honor of my arrival, I could deal with it accordingly.  And by "accordingly", I mean a dumbfounded shriek followed by a gigantic sadface.

I managed to make it to my hotel, only to learn that I couldn't check in.  One whorebath and an SFRB later, I was ready to hit the sights!  (If you had to click that link, and/or don't know what an SFRB is, you are dead to me).

Incidentally, since I was staying across the Thames from the Tower of London (priorities & planning, people), it was a short jaunt over to what would fill my afternoon.  I was awestruck by the stories of death and dismemberment, torture and treason that took place on these ancient grounds.  I was also really entertained by those wacky ravens.  They eat better than the yeomen employed there (which is amazing as some of those guys are really plump).

The Tower was a great location to point me down towards the next items on my agenda: a walk along the Thames (check), Big Ben (check), the London Eye (forgot about that one, but check), and the Houses of Parliament (government? okay, check).  I got close to Westminster Abbey, but it was getting dark.

My feet exhausted, my belly empty - it was time to meet some friends for drinks - at the wrong place.

It seems that despite all my plotting and planning, I left out one of the most important things that a girl like me can't miss...drinking ales at a legitimate English pub.  What have I done?!?  I don't even know who I am anymore!  Instead of dumping smelly vinegar on greasy fish and chips fried in century-old peanut oil, I found myself sitting in a forgettable bar/restaurant by the Wimbledon station.  The company: Fabulous.  The service: Poor, on a good day.  The beer: American.  

I leave in the morning for Bruxelles, Belgium - the land of beer and chocolate.  Perhaps I can redeem myself there.  Wait, what time do London pubs open?  Maybe I can redeem myself at breakfast...