Malls Welcomed Dogs. The Results Have Been Ruff.

NORWALK, Conn.—It was Weston Bear Marshall’s first time at the mall and he wasn’t up on his etiquette. Soon after arriving on Black Friday, the two-year-old lifted his leg and peed on an information sign.

“He’s marking his territory,” said Vincent Marshall, owner of the Old English sheepdog.

Malls are desperate to revive foot traffic after years of losing customers to e-commerce. That includes the four-footed kind, despite the occasional mishap.

“Not everyone makes it to the puppy-relief stations,” said Matthew Seebeck, senior general manager of the Norwalk, Conn., mall, called the SoNo Collection.

The mall’s doggie code of conduct, also known as the “pawlicy,” requires its furrier patrons to use the puppy facilities, which are equipped with patches of fake grass, plastic bags and paper towels. Owners who don’t follow the rules, which also require leashes, can be banned for up to a year. No one has been blacklisted yet, Mr. Seebeck said.

Weston’s human staff carried on with their shopping after his accident. The family posed for a photo with Santa and then lingered as shoppers came over to pet the 80-pound animal.

“If anyone’s nervous, he’ll win them over,” Mr. Marshall predicted. “He’s a very social dog. He’s thinking, ‘I want to introduce myself to all these people.’ That’s what is going through his doggie brain.”

Pacific Retail Capital Partners, which operates 22 malls in 12 states, has six pet-friendly centers and plans for a seventh next year, said Najla Kayyem, its executive vice president of marketing.

“People who have pets are a breed of their own and we want to be able to reach them,” she said.

The Eastridge Center in San Jose, Calif., has a Mini Cat Town, for playing with kittens up for adoption. At the Monroe Crossing Mall in Monroe, N.C., cats and bunnies on leashes scamper in for pet night with Santa, said marketing manager Wendi McCall. One shopper needed approval from Santa to bring a snake.

On Black Friday in 2021, two greyhounds busted loose from their owner at the SoNo Collection. “You could see the crowds of people parting as they ran up and down the escalator,” recalled Mr. Seebeck.

Another day at the same mall, a Great Dane took out a sweater display at the Altar’d State clothing chain. Earlier this year, a dog deposited a trail of poop outside H&M. Shoppers nearby barked at the owner to clean up after her pup, but she high-tailed it out, canine in tow.

The Rosedale Center in Roseville, Minn., for a time allowed dogs on Sunday mornings, but discontinued that. They overran the mall and left hair on garments, said Molly King, a manager there. “For every dog lover,” she added, “there is a dog not lover.”

Mike Lambrakis, of Tustin, Calif., lately has noticed more pooches while shopping. “I’ll be looking at clothing and suddenly there is a dog sniffing my leg,” said the 36-year-old financial adviser, who is allergic. “It makes it easier to justify shopping online.”

Ed Taylor, founder of the Worldwide Santa Claus Network said his members, who often play Kris Kringle at shopping centers, have been peed on, bitten and scratched. And he doesn’t mean by the children.

He has posed with goats, chickens, snakes and lizards at malls around the country, and a small lap dog once chomped on his finger. “He didn’t draw blood, but it was a shock,” said Mr. Taylor, who still enjoys seeing pets among shoppers.

The Foothills Mall in Maryville, Tenn., is pet friendly. Does it advertise that? Nope.

“If we did, then everyone would come with their animals and that would be more than we could handle,” said Tia Spires, the mall’s general manager.

Last month, Rod Morton, a 58-year-old advertising executive, was walking his goldendoodle Truly at the SoNo Collection mall in Connecticut. It was cold and rainy outside, with other challenges inside the mall.

The Nordstrom there offers complimentary puppuccinos, which are cups of whipped cream. Truly loves them—who wouldn’t?—but then races around on a sugar high, said Mr. Morton.

Another dog owner, Adam Bomberger, waited with his golden retriever Bailey outside of Aerie, where Mr. Bomberger’s girlfriend was shopping.

The store was too crowded for Bailey’s liking, according to Mr. Bomberger, a 34-year-old media technology specialist. He also has to steer Bailey away from stores that sell candles because the pup likes to lick the scented wax.

Nearby, Paisley and Bentley, both Pomeranians, were yapping and yipping like canine carolers. “They get excited,” explained Michael Lopez, a 22-year-old student at Sacred Heart University who was shopping with his girlfriend Valerie Navas, a 21-year-old nursing student.

Ms. Navas said the dogs tinkle on the rug almost every time they come to the mall. “They think the rug is a huge pee mat,” she said.

In our 20s, my new husband and I took a year off from our fledgling careers to travel in Southeast Asia. Equipped with paper maps, we began in China and improvised each day’s “itinerary” on the go. A gap year for grown-ups, I called it, although I scarcely qualified as one.

Nearly 40 years later, we are new retirees with the same wanderlust. We wondered: Could we recapture the thrill of winging it, enduring rough roads and cheap hotels?

We could and did, but for 2½ months instead of 12. We mapped out a route that would take us up Africa’s east coast and then—who knows where? Here’s how we rolled and five important lessons we learned on a 6,000-mile trip.

Kenya: Live large by day

Our first stop was the tiny, car-free island of Lamu, well-known for its high-profile visitors, from Kate Moss to the Obamas. This low-key getaway offered white-sand beaches, dhows — boats you can rent for day cruises and snorkelling — and lots of donkeys, the main mode of transport.

We considered the beachside Peponi Hotel in Shela, a hot spot since the 1960s (Mick Jagger bunked there). But room rates start at $250, far above our per-night budget of $70 or less. When contemplating almost 100 nights of travel, price matters.

So we chose a villa in the dunes called Amani Lamu, $61 per night for an en suite room with a private terrace and shared plunge pool.

We still had a cool Peponi moment come sunset: On the hotel’s whitewashed veranda, we sipped Pepotinis and plotted our next day’s interlude at the Majlis, Lamu’s fanciest resort (from $580).
With a $20 day pass, we could lounge around its pools and beach bars like proper resort habitués.

Lesson learned: Live like billionaires by day and frugal backpackers by night.
Must-go: Across the bay on Manda Island, bunk a night in a thatched-roof bungalow on stilts at Nyla’s Guest House and Kitchen (from $48 with breakfast).
After a dinner of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew and rice, the sound of waves will lull you asleep.

Egypt: Ask. Politely.

From Lamu, we flew to Aswan in Egypt. Our “plan”: Cruise down the Nile to Luxor, then take a train to Cairo, and venture to Giza’s pyramids.

Turns out it’s the kind of thing one really should book in advance. But at our Aswan hostel, the proprietor, who treated us like guests deserving white-glove service, secured a felucca, a vessel manned by a navigator and captain-cum-cook. Since we’d booked fewer than 24 hours in advance and there were no other takers, we were its sole passengers for the three-day trip.

One day, we stopped to tour ancient temples and visit a bustling camel fair, but otherwise, we remained on board watching the sunbaked desert slide by. We slept on futons on the deck under the stars. The cost: about $100 per night per person, including three meals.

Lesson learned: Ask for help. We found Egyptians kind and unfazed by our haplessness, especially when we greeted them respectfully with assalamu alaikum (“Peace to you”).
Must-go: For buys from carpets to kebabs, don’t miss Cairo’s massive Khan el-Khalili bazaar, in business since 1382. We loved the babouche, cute leather slippers, but resisted as our packs were full.

Turkey: Heed weather reports

Next stop Tunisia, via a cheap flight on EgyptAir. We loved Tunisia, but left after six days because the weather got chilly.

Fair enough, it was January. We hopped continents by plane and landed in Istanbul, where it snowed. Fortunately, two of Istanbul’s main pleasures involve hot water. We indulged in daily hammams, or Turkish baths, ranging from $30 to $60 for services that included, variously, a massage, a scrub-down and a soak.

Beneath soaring ceilings at the temple-like Kılıç Ali Paşa Halamı, brisk workers sternly wielded linen sacks to dowse my body in a cloud of hot foam.
In between visits to Ottoman-era mosques and the city’s spice markets, we staved off the chill by drinking fruity pomegranate tea and sampling Turkish delight and baklava at tea salons.

A favourite salon: Sekerci Cafer Erol in Kadıköy, a ferry-ride away on the “Asian” side of Istanbul, where the city adjoins Asia.

Lesson learned: Pay attention to the weather gods. We foolishly took the concept of travelling off-season too far.
Must-go: Don’t miss the Istanbul Modern, the Renzo Piano-designed art museum in the historic Beyoğlu district.

Cambodia: Chill out

After a long flight from Istanbul, we spent two weeks in Laos and then hopped another plane to Cambodia, specifically Koh Rong Sanloem, another car-free island.

Like vagabonds, we lolled by the warm, super-blue water of Sunset Beach, steps from our bungalow at Sleeping Trees (from $54 per night).
A caveat: You have to sweat to get to this island paradise. We took a bus, a ferry and then hiked for 40 minutes up and down a steep hill and through a jungle. You’ll find only a handful of “resorts”—simple bungalow complexes like ours. There’s nothing much to do. I’ll be back.

Lesson learned: Until our week in Cambodia, we’d been travelling too much and too fast, prioritising exploration over relaxation. This island taught us the pleasures of stasis.
Must-go: Spend one day in Cambodia’s capital city, Phnom Penh, to delve into its sobering history. Tour the Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre, site of a Killing Field, where nearly 9,000 Cambodians died.

Thailand: Be a frugal hedonist

We spent our last two weeks on the island of Ko Samui, where season three of “The White Lotus” was shot.

We went there for its astounding beauty, not the luxury resort experience that comes with too many boisterous lads on vacation, snake farms and traffic jams in town.

Truth be told, we flouted our budget rules to book an Airbnb with a pool (from $300) in the hills of Lipa Noi on the island’s quiet side. We joined the nearby Gravity Movement Gym to work out, but cooked our own meals to keep our final tabulation of expenses within reach.

Lesson learned: Pinching pennies feels restrictive, no matter how lush the surroundings. And it leads to bickering, as partners tally up who squandered how much on what.
With the end in sight, we splurged on the villa and even bought souvenirs, knowing we’d lug them for days, not weeks.
Must-go: Take the 30-minute ferry to sister island Ko Pha Ngan for its peace, love and yoga vibe and, once a month, full-moon parties.
Via Airbnb, we bunked at a Thai house called Baan Nuit, run by the Dear Phangan restaurant proprietors.

We sampled steamed dumplings, white fish in a Thai basil sauce and spicy noodles for a mere $15 apiece.
Hey, indulge in that “White Lotus” moment if you dare!