It’s here. No warning, no heads up. The heat has arrived in New York City. It’s really remarkable — it’s as if everyone has forgotten that, just a few days ago, they were donning turtlenecks and winter coats. Now, it’s bikinis in Central Park and no signs of spring — just summer.

One reason I like living in the Northeast is the fact we have four solid seasons, and usually the transition into each season is often the most enjoyable part. However, this year spring has sprung right over us. Summer is not my favorite season in NYC, mostly due to the humidity, but I have to admit it is nice to see the sun and people enjoying the outdoors.

In my travels, I’ve seen many different types of climates. In Southeast Asia, for example, the climate ranges from hot to hotter. Even locals I know in Singapore and Malaysia claim to never get used to the heat. On the extreme opposite, friends in Stockholm always seem shocked when the first snowfall hits. In fact, one year when I was visiting, the subways had technical issues due to the cold during the first snow. It was as if it was the first time they’ve seen cold in the region. Maybe they forgot about their history of long winters!

Bottom line, of the four different seasons, I’ve learned I’m a winter girl through and through. I try to avoid the heat. However, I wouldn’t mind spending some time in the sun if, say, I was in the Maldives or perhaps Bali for a few days. Where would you enjoy finding time in the sun?

-Alex Young, vice president and associate publisher

One of the opportunities I embrace when I travel is attending church services wherever I find myself on a Sunday. Being Catholic, I can usually find my way to a Mass without too much difficulty or venturing too far from where I am staying, but I don’t always limit myself to just that denomination.

I enjoy every aspect of the experience: first, finding out where and when exactly the Sunday service will be. I look in a phone book or online, check with a concierge or simply ask another service person or local. Then comes the challenge of finding my way to the church. It may be as simple as spying a steeple and heading in that direction or as complicated as deciphering subway systems or local maps and navigating back roads and alleyways. The highlight, of course, is taking part in the service itself.

I don’t believe it’s possible (at least, I can’t) to attend a Sunday celebration as merely an observer, even if one is not a believer or follower of the faith of that congregation . . . although being so allows one to more fully enter into the experience with the others there. One can sing along with the choir, follow and perhaps respond to or join in with the prayers (understanding the local language helps) and even gain some insight from the homily. In doing so, one can more intimately experience an important aspect of the ordinary lives of the local community. As a traveler, I seek those kinds of connections, the opportunity to meet people in a familiar yet new context.

Church visits I recall range from a bright, joyful service in a tiny church open to the tropical breezes on the North Shore of Oahu to a far more somber and less intimate Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. Hands down the most overwhelming experience came at the 2005 World Youth Day in Cologne, Germany, when over a million of us came together at the Marienfeld for a Mass celebrated with Pope Benedict XVI. On this Easter Sunday, though, I think back five years to a trip our family took to Great Britain. Our older daughter, Sarah, was enrolled in a semester abroad, and we spent our spring break visiting her and sights from London to Scotland. Palm Sunday found us in a large, modern church in London, and I was a bit surprised to see that churchgoers there dressed at least as casually as my congregation at home (another assumption dispelled — a great benefit of travel!). On Holy Thursday we visited York Minster. Although we had already toured St. Paul’s and Lincoln Cathedral earlier in the week, York stands out in my mind. Here we experienced an Evensong service; it was not very long, but the memory of the ethereal voices of the boys’ choir lifting to the upper reaches of the ornate naves and the beautiful windows will stay with me forever. We ended our visit on Easter Sunday in Edinburgh in a lovely stone church a pleasant stroll away from our bed-and-breakfast. We were surrounded by other families, not so different from ours: little girls in bright, pretty dresses, ladies in hats and heels and the men and boys in suits and ties. We felt welcomed and a part of the congregation, a perfect end to our visit — in a foreign land, perhaps, but very much members of the family of man.

Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

My “baby” turns 21 today, and so I am unashamedly using the public forum of this blog to wish her a very happy day. Especially since her big sister left for college when my little girl was 14, Jenny and I have enjoyed a close relationship, including watching Project Runway together, swapping books and CDs back and forth, and sharing travel adventures. In fact, it was Jenny’s prompting that led to our journey to Germany in 2005.

Jenny had heard about the Catholic church’s World Youth Day events and was thrilled to learn that our church’s youth group leader would be sending a group to the 20th such event in the summer after her junior year in high school. Launched by Pope John Paul II in 1986 as a means of bringing the world’s youth together every two or three years, these week-long events are held in major cities and pilgrimage sites and often attract more than a million participants at the final day’s Mass and celebration. Now, my younger daughter is generally a fairly quiet, studious, even-keeled sort of kid, so when she gets fired up about something, you know right away that it’s important to her and she will NOT let go of it.

Such was the case with the World Youth Day in Cologne (Koln), Germany. Not only did she want to go, but she wanted to be sure that I went along as one of the chaperones. This would involve more than a year of fundraising, culminating in a week spent being responsible for corraling a bunch of kids in a foreign country–how could I not look forward to that!!? (right!) I like to believe that I am not one of those parents who can be manipulated easily, but there are some forces that simply cannot be overcome, and this time Jenny seemed to have God on her side. So it was that we found ourselves en route to Dusseldorf, Germany, in late July.

We had gotten to know the other chaperones and kids in our group quite well during multiple car washes and bake sales in the months preceding our trip, so my fears of losing someone in a biergarten along the way were allayed before we even left the States. And while not all of our experiences would be highly spiritual, they were certainly enlightening. We attended daily Mass and organized ”classes,” but the biggest, most enduring lessons came from observing the exuberant, tolerant intermingling of this amazing collection of young people from the four corners of the world and the graciousness with which they were hosted by the citizens of Koln, Dusseldorf and their surrounding communities.

The public transportation system, tremendously efficient and organized, was taxed to the limit during our stay, but patience and good humor were always in evidence. Everyone took the opportunity while wedged like sardines into the trains and buses to get to know his or her fellow riders. Smiles and email addresses were traded with kids from Argentina, Italy, Australia, Kuwait and Nigeria. Pictures were taken and life stories exchanged in hour-long waits for a restroom or a meal. It made all of us present, hosts and guests alike, realize how much we have in common and how much can be achieved in gatherings such as this. I believe it confirmed for Jenny that she wanted to continue to get out and explore the world and do what she can to help the people in it who don’t have the advantages she was born to.

And so my child is in her third year of nursing school, and next year she hopes to spend part of a term in England studying community health programs. She also intends to travel before and after her studies (as well as on long weekends), exploring as much of Europe as possible. That week in Germany in 2005 taught my introverted homebody that there is much to embrace and love and learn in the world, and it gave her the confidence to seek it. This time I won’t be her chaperone, but I will be her champion, cheering her on from home.

I wish you many years and many happy journeys, sweetie! Happy birthday!

 Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader 

I made a Super Bowl Sunday day trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art with my daughter Kate. I had not been to the museum, which is probably the most beautifully positioned and most architecturally appealing museum in the country, for quite some time.

After spending a quick hour and forty-five minutes touring the museum, my daughter pointed out a painting entitled “The Death of St. Francis Xavier.”

Francis Xavier might be considered a business traveler as in his time he was selling Christianity and had traveled all over the world - Spain, Portugal, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, India, Japan and China just to name a few. And in 1548 there were no 747s or flight attendants, these were difficult and long journeys. It is said he converted more people than any other person besides  St. Paul.

He died in 1552 and as my namesake, I wonder if there is a likeness between the prolific travels of Francis Xavier and Global Traveler. He spent a great deal of time in Asia and we too dedicate a great deal coverage to the region and frequently travel there.

Food for thought!

-Francis Xavier Gallagher, publisher and CEO