You know all the big ones by heart, the ones who loom in your remembrances of Western Civilization class and, well, perhaps many a vacation or period living abroad. The names are so familiar: France, Britain, Italy and so on. But what about the little ones? The wee nations of Europe who have their own flags and governments, perhaps their own currencies, and who certainly deserve a look should you be planning a trip to the continent any time soon...or later, for that matter.

Well, this tidy little guide from Fodors takes you on a brief tour of Europe's wee states. Places like Andorra, given its independence by Charlemagne when they helped fight the Moops, er, Moors centuries ago. There is Monaco, which many backpack travelers know for its casinos and as the parking place for vast and unfathomably pricey yachts of the rich and discreet. There is Lichtenstein, the sleepy, but wealthy little haven along the Rhine between Switzerland and Austria where if you blink while on the road, you miss it. And so on...

It's a cool, useful little list and made me think that someone should do a book about the world's smallest countries. Hmmmm...

Some people say that Spain is the California of Europe: you can beach it in the morning and ski in the afternoon. Not that Spaniards would ever try to attempt such a packed schedule...

While you can ski in the Spanish Pyrenees, some people say that skiing is better in Andorra, one of those tiny countries in Europe, stuck between France and Spain. It only has 60,000 people (and the world's highest life expectancy). You could probably meet all of them on the slopes. Everyone else will be in the stores...Andorra is a tax haven and tourists like to come here to buy booze and cigs.

This site offers good information on skiing. Sounds pretty affordable, too. Plus, it adds another easy country to your list. Not that you care about lists, of course.

Tired of the ridicule and mockery member nations say they face on a daily basis, the Committee for the Advancement of Poorly Named Countries is petitioning the United Nations for approval to change the official names of their respective homelands. "I mean, come on, my country sounds like it is a gay waiter, for God's sake," said Naboo Mutomaba, a representative from the African nation of Chad.

Chad is part of a sizeable subcommittee fighting for more manly national monikers. "We're tired of diplomats making fun of us at U.N. happy hours and state functions," added Pierre Fornaut who lost diplomatic immunity in January when he attacked a Spanish diplomat for mocking his effeminate sounding homeland of Guadeloupe. Others from Gabon, Andorra, Yemen, and Martinique have expressed similar harassment at the hands of U.N. hecklers.

Changing country names is hardly a new practice for skittish, insecure nations and principalities. The Isle of Man, for example, used to be called Daffodil Island until angry male citizens finally rebelled. "They are my heroes," Mutomaba told the U.N. who just last month rejected his petition to rename Chad, Lord Berkeley's Knob. It was discovered that a small town in Scotland was already using this moniker and Mutomaba was visibly crestfallen upon hearing the news. "Well I guess things could be worse," he admitted. "At least we're not named Brest." At which point a French diplomat from Brittany hauled off and slugged him.

I wanted to point out two satirical pieces I read this week centered in some way around the wonderful world of travel writing. The first is a short blog post over at Words without Borders: A good travel guide beats reality. The musings of Arnon Grunberg made me chuckle, especially as I look around my bedroom at the six or so guidebooks I currently have scattered about. It looks like I'm trying to cram in lots of juicy guidebook details before I head off on my trip. Maybe I am?! I plan to leave all but one book behind -- which will make the cut? And what happens if none of what I read is true once I'm on the road?!?! Will all our greatest travel fantasies really come true if the guide book says they will? The second piece is a smart travel essay by Rolf Potts: The Art of Writing a Story About Walking Across Andorra is based on a true travel story but told with a strong satirical twist. Potts unleashes his perspective on the "...conventions and clichés of mainstream travel writing" in a creative and captivating essay. Two very unique pieces of writing that focus on different genres -- I think both are worth a read if you enjoy any kind of travel writing.

I was reading Tripso's 11 Perfect Gifts For Travelers and agreed with author Charles Leocha's suggestion that niche guidebooks which focus on particular interests of travelers are indeed super gift ideas. Of course, Leocha used this gift idea list as an opportunity to recommend his own niche travel guides: Ski Snowboard Europe is a step-by-step guide to planning a winter adventure in the Alps in Austria, Italy, Switzerland or France as well as some resorts in Norway, Spain and Andorra. Leocha points out which resorts are best for families or singles and which are recommended for different skill-level skiers and snowboarders. The book also includes helpful details about the atmosphere of particular lodges and updated contact information to make booking your trip easy as a ski down the bunny slope. Leocha is a black-diamond skier who has also written Ski Snowboard America and Canada. The latest editions of both books were released in October 2005.