Lots of people pine after cruises to Mexico, the Bahamas and around the Mediterranean.

But have you ever wanted to go on a cruise to nowhere?

Hurricane Sandy has disrupted normal cruise routes, and Carnival has one creative solution. Rather than letting the disrupted schedules keep their ships grounded, the cruise operator has decided to capitalize on the situation: ships lying fallow, people getting restless.

USA Today reports that, using a cruise ship stranded in Baltimore by Hurricane Sandy, Carnival has created a $129-per-person, weekend-long "cruise to nowhere," in which the boat will basically sail out and return, enabling passengers to enjoy the cruise experience without actually, you know, going somewhere.

Given the widespread power outages and downed transportation systems along the East Coast in Sandy's wake, there are doubtless plenty of people with cabin fever (pardon the pun) who would love to get out on the open ocean for a little while.

Funny enough, Carnival's website has a drop-down menu called "find cruises to ..." If you want to take this cruise, there's actually a drop-down option for "cruise to nowhere."

The $129 price is for a windowless cabin; ones with balcony views start at $179 per person based on double occupancy. Though it does beget the question – how much "nowhere" is there to gaze out at?

[Photo credit: Flickr user El coleccionista de instantes]

For tourists and locals alike, the post-Sandy vibe in New York City is unusual, even eerie.

With subway lines down throughout the city, slow bus service and intense traffic – everyone's who's got a car is currently using it to get around – the remaining signs of wreckage from the storm make for a spooky Halloween. The city's weird mood is backdropped by the continuing lack of electricity in lower Manhattan, which makes the normally iconic NYC skyline totally dark (you can see it here, if you click through to the 16th image).

Yesterday afternoon, there were hundreds or even thousands of pedestrians walking across the Williamsburg Bridge, which separates powerless Manhattan from a neighborhood in Brooklyn where electricity is flowing and residents are carousing as though a Frankenstorm didn't just pass through. Children in costume walked the bridge with their parents to go trick-or-treating; for many, walking is the only viable way to get out of lower Manhattan, with public transportation at a near standstill.

The spooky pre-Halloween vibe was perpetuated in the Lower East Side by shops and bodegas that were open for business but totally dark inside. Katz's Deli, a New York icon, burnishes a sign announcing it's open – but that it doesn't have power and, no, you can't use its restroom.

With nothing to do inside, residents flock to the streets, chatting with their neighbors and walking aimlessly, all with a restless air that reminds me of a post-apocalyptic movie scene. Street lamps are dark at night, and the lack of traffic lights means policemen are directing traffic at crowded intersections. Cars are fending for themselves at mid-sized intersections.

The disquieting restlessness feels like the quiet before a storm of its own. On Halloween, of all nights, I can't decide whether this is particularly appropriate, or especially haunting.

[Photo credit: Allison Kade]

Where was your photo taken: Caye Caulker, Belize

Where do you live now: Brooklyn, New York

Scariest airline flown: Varig, the Brazilian airline, just a couple weeks before it went bankrupt and closed down for good. I was traveling between Miami and Argentina (Buenos Aires, and then Ushuaia) and my flight wasn't just delayed but canceled in both directions. My luggage didn't make it successfully in either direction. There was quite a lot of chaos.

Favorite city/country/place: The Vatican, because of how I visited it. My mom is a doctor, and one of her patients is a priest who happens to be on the committee that manages the Vatican Museum. Before I went to Rome, she told me to get in touch with him. All his email response told me was to show up at 7:30 a.m. to meet Giovanna. That's it.

I showed up, and ended up getting a private tour of the Vatican, starting with the Sistine Chapel. My guide made sure I was the first tourist through the turnstile and took me straight to the chapel, where I was entirely, utterly alone (with her) in the chapel that's normally such a tourist trap. We walked into rooms not open for the public and it was incredible. Later, I met one of the priests in charge. I think he assumed I was part of the first priest's parish. I didn't lie, but I didn't disabuse him of the notion by saying, 'no, my mom's just his dermatologist ... and we're Jewish.'

Most remote corner of the globe visited: A small town in Belize called San Jose, where there's no electricity and the villagers still speak Mayan. We stayed for a few nights in a guest house, battled a tarantula in our cabin and were hosted by some of the warmest people ever. In virtually every way, it truly was the end of the road.

Favorite guidebook series: Lonely Planet or Moon, I suppose, but the truth is I tend to do more research online and ask locals on the ground once I'm there.

Solo traveler or group traveler? Small group traveler, and solo is good, too. I like meeting people in hostels, but it's nice to have someone to really fall back on – as long as your travel styles mesh.

Worst place to catch a stomach bug? Haiti! I visited my best friend who was on a fellowship for a year in a rural clinic in a town called Tomasik. It was a great experience, but she and her co-fellow came down with malaria, typhoid and possibly dengue fever between the two of them!

First culture shock experience: I lived in Kyoto, Japan, for a semester in college, and my first real struggle was the sleeping arrangement. I stayed with a host family and had a roll-up futon in my room, and that was okay. But the pillows. Oh, the pillows! Traditional pillows are stuffed with, like, sand, or acorns, or other assorted hard stuff. On day two, I went to the department store for a "Western" pillow, and all I ended up finding and getting was a fluffy Disney pillow that I slept on for the rest of my time there.

Where would you buy a second home/retire: Somewhere mountainous, like northern Japan or, I don't know, Bhutan.