what i learned in tahoe
growing up in the northern michigan woods in a home that did not have central heating (wood stove), on a private road that, during the several months of winter, often got snowed in until some neighbor went out and plowed it, driving through blizzards to get to work, pipes that froze (melted snow for bathing!), and without all the fancy NorthFace gear that kids have nowadays (have you ever worn knitted mittens? they are totally useless, and just get wet and then freeze to become icicles on your hands.), i have a fair amount of post-traumatic stress around winter. i get really scared of it. the potential for it being funtimes vs. cold miserableness seems very low to me. this is much different than my california and southern friends who ONLY have memories of funtimes in the snow, because their only interaction with it is ski vacations. but for me, all i can remember is how cold, difficult and what a pain in the ass winter was, and i haven’t had enough ski vacations to quite get over that yet.
so generally, because i’m not into the downhill sports (my skiiing in Chile this summer was an exception, not the rule), when i think about going to tahoe, all i imagine is getting stuck in a blizzard on highway 80 and having to sleep in the car (which happened to our friends the weekend before), frostbitten fingers and toes, and feeling trapped inside a cabin. usually late november in tahoe is brisk late-autumn with some dustings of snow that melt off in the morning but you can still go hiking kind of weather, and that is what i envisioned when we made the plans to go up there for Thanksgiving weekend. so as mentioned, i was slightly apprehensive once we learned what the weather would be like. jay, however, was SO EXCITED.
wednesday eve, the 5 of us (stephen, nicole, whit, jay, me) had a delish dinner @ Wally’s Cafe and left oakland late to avoid traffic, and then our drive up was fast and on dry roads. above 3,000 feet the unseasonably large snowbanks sparkled in the moonlight. we arrived shortly after midnight, and because it’s so early in the year and the not all of the services are open, we had to have the SnowCat – a tank-like vehicle with a passenger cabin – pick us (and all our stuff) up and take us to the ski house, which sits right on the slopes. so once you’re there, you are THERE. no driving anywhere to get to where you want to go. *amazing*. and then we stayed up until 3am drinking wine.
Thanksgiving morning it was GORGEOUS at Sugarbowl – still cold, but sunny and clear and piles of white fluffy snow (see current conditions here). jay and whit got up early and went to hit the slopes ASAP, and nicole, stephen and i hung out in the apartment – which is the bottom floor of the larger cabin, and sort of dungeon-like in that there are low ceilings and few windows – until mid-afternoon and then went for a long walk on the cross country trails and had some cocktails at the bar. despite my PTSD i enjoyed it quite a lot, and we frolicked. for Thanksgiving dinner we cooked a hodgepodge of items in the tiny kitchen – baked mac and cheese, fondue, roasted vegetables – and then hung out, continually marvelling at the slowness of time after it gets dark at 5:00 and enjoyed eachother’s company.
Friday morning was similarly gorgeous, and after the other 3 left to ski, stephen and i both debated if/when we might also go skiing/boarding as it seemed sort of like we should (we were RIGHT THERE), but neither of us were super motivated to 1. pay the lift tickets and 2. hurt ourselves, which were possibilities. part of the reason i’m not into downhill is that i’m pretty terrified of hurting myself. almost everyone i know who does downhill has been hurt pretty badly at some point, and given that i’ve already been dealing with constant body pain for over a year now, the idea of doing something that could possibly hurt myself even more seems ludicrous. so, it being a gorgeous day we went and sat on the deck near the bar and chatted. later, when the other 3 went into the bar, the bartender, a local friendly fellow, asked “Where are Cosmo and the White Russian?”, referring to us by the drinks we’d ordered the day before. quaint!
then came saturday, when we awoke to a fairly significant snowfall that kept going all day long. everyone else decided to “hit the pow”, and i continued my streak of sleeping in and then laying in the bed watching movies. Lost in Translation is really a great film, although i find ScarJo to be really flat. i don’t buy that she’s a hyperintelligent Yale Philosophy grad at all. jay came back sometime after noon and i put on my snowclothes and walked the 100 yards to the bar, met up with everyone for a drink, and then went back. i can bring myself to enjoy a sunny gorgeous day in the snow; in my world, blizzards are really not fun, but they were all RAVING about how much powder they were shredding all day.
after dark, another long evening of movies (Let the Right One In, touted as “the best vampire movie ever”, really didn’t do it for me) and fondue and wine. the amount of calories in cheese and wine consumed over the course of this weekend was pretty astonishing, and we didn’t even consume all we’d brought.
sunday morning it was back to clear sunny skies, and now about 2 more feet of snow. stephen and i stayed inside for the morning, then jay came back and we all packed up our stuff and went for a walk while whit+nicole skiied more. we investigated the car situation, and found it buried in the parking lot. luckily, it’s light dry snow (powder) and didn’t take too much effort to dig out.
just before leaving, in a brave act of full immersion, whit flopped into the snow bank in his regular clothes. we hit the road just before dark, stopped at Ikeda’s for dinner, and were home in decent time.
i do sort of regret not skiing, if only because it provides spectacular views from the lifts and tops of runs. that was the main reason i skiied in chile – i didn’t want to miss out on any gorgeousness. but without that stress – physically and mentally – i was able to decompress quite a bit, and after a long weekend of sleeping and eating as much as i wanted to, when i got back sunday night i felt great. rested. satiated. and THAT i was definitely thankful for.
50 Reasons to Love Oakland
(In response to “50 Reasons to Love San Francisco” which was a response to “50 Reasons to Be Pretty Damn Euphoric You Live in New York City,” which, in its response to the NYC Haters, called for everyone to make a list for their city. so i did.)
in no particular order and without catering to anyone:
50. it’s usually at least 10 degrees warmer (and sunnier) than SF, sometimes 20, especially during fog season (July)
49. a long walk around and/or gondola ride around Lake Merritt
48. the hills: Joaquin Miller and Redwood Regional Parks
47. the Oakland Museum of California
46. Jack London Square, especially the First and Last Chance Saloon
45. the cranes!
44. conscious hip hop, esp The Coup
43. The Fox + Paramount Theatres
42. Jingletown
41. American Steel
40. Old Town bars & restaurants
39. “donettes” and french press coffee for brunch at Flora
38. the Chapel of the Chimes
37. the Piedmont Rose Garden
36. International Blvd – like the Mission before hipsters!
35. the Bordello
34. The Vulcan
33. The Crucible
32. the Cathedral of Christ the Light
31. Manzanita macrobiotic restaurant vs. Chicken and Waffles
30. Mama Buzz cafe, where the hipster watching is almost as good as their veg/vegan food (last time there: a table of 3 next to us: a chick knitting and smoking a joint saying really nonsensical “i’m so high” things while another girl read her facebook page out loud to the other 2 and a guy doing the total Joaquin Phoenix “I’m still Here” thing with the bushy beard and sunglasses. dude, that was 2009.)
29. people in oakland really are as weird as they look/act/seem, they’re not just TRYING to be
27. the A’s / Raiders – keepin’ it real
26. the Grand Lake Theatre marquee
25. the Grand Lake Farmer’s Market (sunday mornings)
24. Trestle Glen – so white-picket!
23. Van Jones + The Ella Baker Center for Human Rights
22. Middle Harbor Shoreline Park
21. FAIRYLAND
20. the Oakland Zoo, which i like better than the SF Zoo.
19. the Oakland Coliseum Swap Meet,, where you can find everything from on-site Chinese cupping services to your stolen bike
18. tapioca drinks from Chinatown
17. Temescal – awesome foods from Lanesplitters to Dona Tomas + now there is a Burma Superstar!
16. all the crazy incarnations of Eli’s Mile High Club
15. the Stork Club + The Uptown + 21Grand
14. the Parkway Speakeasy (RIP?)
12. “hella”
10. Chabot Space & Science Center
9. Oaksterdam
8. cheaper rent for more space than the West Bay
7. Cafe van Kleef
6. Piedmont – Rockridge Shopping
4. Art Murmur!
3. sitting on the patio drinking a local microbrew at Beer Revolution while eating Vegan Soul Food
1. being part of a truly multicultural urban renaissance
this list is not meant to be comprehensive or exclusionary. these things are off the top of my head and based on my own lifestyle/experience living in oakland – so please add more! and i know it was very hard for me to not to not list a bunch more restaurants…so i ask for you to please add things to do/places to go, not more places to eat unless they are *really* special 
and yeah, i remember the KML spoof “Oakland Tourism” video of 2009. spare me.
UPDATE 11/10: TK has now done a “30 Reasons to Hate San Francisco“. i’d take his lead again and do the same for Oakland, but outside of “gangbanger crime”, actually i’d have a hard time coming up with as many, as we don’t have your SF problems! we can park almost anywhere!
Filed in bay area gems, most linked/commented on, personal favorites, things you can do, travel | Tagged with NaBloPoMo, oakland | Comments (4)wander
this morning i passed an older Hindu couple walking along the railroad tracks in west berkeley, and i wondered if they had come here from the East, and how the world here looks through their eyes. i often wonder this – how does America look through foreign eyes, to tourists, to recent immigrants?
when i am abroad i think a lot about how the residents who live in the places i visit feel about their locales – do the people who live in Budapest love the things the tourists love? or are their lives focused on totally different things? obviously here where i live i don’t spend a lot of time hanging out in Fisherman’s Wharf, and so the SF i live in is totally different than the one most tourists visit. to me, the Bay Area i live in is WAY MORE AWESOME than what most tourists probably see. is also that true for Budapest, for Prague, for everywhere? the challenge, then, is how to be a better visitor. on our last couple of trips jay and i tried to just sort of “move in” to the places we went, instead of being tourists, to try to get a feel what it was like to live there, day to day.
on the flip side, sometimes we play “tourist” in SF, usually when friends/family are visiting from out of town, but sometimes just on random sunday afternoons. we roam the streets of union square and north beach, visit shops and galleries and cafes we’ve never been to, and sometimes we discover things we never knew were there.
i like trying to find this balance when i wander – of exploring places like a visitor, but also seeking out the everyday, the local charm, the hidden treasures. i think i might be in the mood to do some more of that around SF this weekend. suggestions?
Filed in travel | Tagged with NaBloPoMo, wanderlust | Comment (0)SFO–>DTW: autumn nostalgia
last thursday night we took the red-eye from SFO to Detroit. a little bit of uncomfortable sleep on the plane and then we landed just before dawn. my parents picked us up and we went out for an early breakfast, joined by jay’s mom and step-dad. in 12.5 years, it was the first meal we’ve ever had with all 6 of us around a table.
the weather was glorious and we stayed up for the rest of the morning, finally laying down for a nap in the early afternoon. 3:00pm wake up and prepare for the festivities: the nephew’s 4th birthday. an afternoon of tacos and presents and cake and complete overstimulation, and then at dusk we all drove to the Henry Ford Museum/Greenfield Village for a night time Halloween walk through the gardens and grounds. the production values were slightly underwhelming for anyone over the age of 8, but a gorgeous warm evening to stroll.
saturday morning woke up and had breakfast with my parents before they headed back north, and then the rest of the afternoon was spent wandering outdoors in the little downtowns of Novi and Plymouth. standard midwestern downtowns, a few blocks long with brick bank buildings, protestant churches and trinket shops in the process of modernizing, slowing replacing five-and-dimes with espresso cafes, wine bars, yoga studios and sushi restaurants. a gorgeous afternoon and trips down memory lane. later in the afternoon jay and i opted against sitting inside to watch the big college football rivalry, Michigan (our alma mater) v. Michigan State, and took a long walk around the suburban neighborhood and basked in the autumn breezes. saturday evening we made dinner at home and went to bed early.
sunday morning we slept in a while and then the family headed to Kensington Metropark, a beautiful park full of hardwood forests and inland lakes and streams. we relaxed in the grass and put our feet in the cold clear freshwater. the summer’s lingering heat had stalled the turning of the leaves, but some of them were aflame. early in the evening, we headed to the airport and were back in Oakland just in time to go to bed before Monday.
Filed in autobiographical, travel | Tagged with family, michigan | Comment (0)golden over the pacific
by obi-J
view from the beach house over the weekend.
perfect.
Filed in photos, travel | Tagged with sea ranch | Comment (0)QOTD: traveling through the world
Filed in QOTD, travel | Tagged with wanderlust | Comment (0)“Traveling through the world produces a marvelous clarity in the judgment of men. We are all of us confined and enclosed within ourselves, and see no farther than the end of our nose. This great world is a mirror where we must see ourselves in order to know ourselves. There are so many different tempers, so many different points of view, judgments, opinions, laws and customs to teach us to judge wisely on our own, and to teach our judgment to recognize its imperfection and natural weakness.”
– Michel de Montaigne
they say you gotta stay hungry
some days were spent lazing in bed until after noon; others we were up before dawn and climbing mountains.
urban streets, honking horns, crowded cafes, skyscrapers, shopping malls – raindrops in forests, birds chirping, ancient ruins, mountain peaks in clouds – homeless dogs following, loud crowded bars, club music until 5 am – tall crucifixes and statues of virgins illuminated on hillsides, churches built atop incan ruins, ancient religions mashed into modern life – adobe shantytowns, sustenance farmers, cows wandering slowly, shoeless children waving from the wayside, women in hand-loomed dresses – brightly colored houses, ocean views, smooth cobblestone streets, terraced cafes, art in abundance – snow white sky, powder fresh slopes, ice underfoot, thin air and pale blue sunshine, boarders fly past, off edges and into the sky – crowded buses, overflowing sidewalks, insane taxis, billboards and prostitutes – armories and churches, cannons and idols, castles and prisons -lush green forest, black sand beach, surfers riding the waves. airports and secluded pastures, teeming with life and death. all of these things.
.:..
the way there.
we had a lot of things on the calendar when we were planning and on the days leading up to this trip. camping trips. family reunions. work. tightly fitting them all in, months ago we booked our tickets. and then somehow, in all the planning and calendaring, it got stuck in our minds that we were leaving on Tuesday, because we knew we’d either be camping or in Chicago until sunday night, and there was no way we were leaving on Monday. monday we scurried about running errands, getting last minute items, packing, getting ready. and then late monday afternoon i skyped our friend in chile, and she said, “shouldn’t you be on a plane right now?” and i said, “no, we’re not leaving until tomorrow’ and she says “no, i’m pretty sure you’re ARRIVING tomorrow’ and suddenly my brain panicked. i pull up the email. she’s watching my face react. she’s right. our plane left at 1:15pm MONDAY. not tuesday. we missed it.
how did this happen?!
“it’s so unlike you”, helen says. except, maybe, it’s not, and jay and i both hate ourselves for several minutes for, despite all our preparations, assuming one thing and somehow never doublechecking this very important detail, while helen and her friend, still on skype laugh at the ridiculousness. she later apologized for laughing, but honestly, it was a perfectly appropriate response. what else can you do?
90 minutes on the phone with the worst customer servie ever at LAN airlines, in which i talk to 3 different people who tell me three different things, from “the only seats left tomorrow are in first class, it will cost you $3,000″, to “there are no seats on any flights until next saturday” to “i can rebook you for tomorrow but i will cost you $1500.” option C taken.
then we went out to dinner monday night with our longtime friend Mike, visiting for the Phish shows that weekend at the Greek, and tried to forget all about it.
the next day we go to the airport on time. the flight to Lima is 9.5 hours. it’s long. we then connect to the flight to Santiago. it’s late. we’re bleary and half-asleep. our plane had been delayed at SFO, and as we exit the plane the airline staff are telling us to RUN. RUN through security. RUN through the airport. we barely make the connection.
.::.
so we arrived 24 hours late, but were immediately welcomed by our friend Helen who is lucky enough to have a 2-bedroom in Santiago all to herself. over the next week, we wandered the streets and hills of Santiago, taking in the city and it’s people. justin, patrick, and nick met us there after a few days as well. among other things, we:
-found Castillo Hidalgo at Cerro Santa Lucia, perhaps the best and most awesome public place in all of Santiago, a former castle and military outpost perched in a little hill in the heart of the city, the surrounding areas landscaped with twisty turny trails and incredibly narrow steps with cacti and towering trees and waterfalls and fountains all around, like the biggest zen garden in the world with a castle on top. definitely my favorite place in Santiago.
-drove to the coast and spend 24 hours in Valporaiso, an amazing seaside town with hills that rival san francisco’s, streets so steep they have funiculars to take you from one level to another, brightly colored sun yellow and aquamarine houses stacked on upon the other, cobblestones streets for miles and miles terraced up and down the hillsides, public art that deserves awards, a gorgeous sunny saturday spent wandering in wanderer bliss. outside of an unfortunate late-night moment with a guy trying to scam us out of money in a bar, it was a perfect 24 hours and i highly recommend Valporaiso as a destiantion.
-drove the other direction up the twisty road into the Andes for a snowy day on the slopes – i faced my fear (and yes, i admit, it was and is total fear. on the way up i literally thought i’d rather be swimming with sharks than trying to ski) and taught myself how to ski that day (sent jay and helen off to have fun while i figured it out myself – i’m a self-learner and a terrible student of others). after an hour i had the bunny hill and talked myself into the next larger slope – and then spent the next 2 hours going up and down, on and off the chairlift, until my quads were so tired i knew i wouldn’t be able to hold it one more time. i only fell once, in the very beginning. i know my friends who have been skiiing/boarding for years will think this is ridiculous, but i was pretty proud of myself that day. i’d rather jump out of airplanes than go downhill fast – it was a big thing for me. not to mention that the mountains were absolutely gorgeous and the views so vast that between runs i just stood and stared at the scene in total bliss for minutes at a time.
-hiked up into the larger metro parque, a quiet respite of nature trails and scenic views, the crown of which being a 40 foot tall statue of the virgin mary who stands in alabaster while overlooking the city, night and day
-visited the rowdiest, most uncouth pub in town -crowded wooden tables of co-eds, sawdust on the floor of the bathroom, and scrawled drunken writings all over the walls - where the drink of choice is a floaty combination of white wine, freixenet ( pronounced ‘fresh-eh-NET’) and pineapple ice cream that will knock you on your ass. we had a few, and the pub grew louder and louder, some of our party defected to join the table of friendly chilean girls nearby, and so the rest of us…
-…were escorted by helen to an underground thai restaurant with a secret gated entrance – like most things hidden behind gates, once entered it was a shangri-la of beautiful lighting, leather couches, chandeliers, and a private dining room with a balcony for our small party, because we didn’t have a reservation. we ate delicious foods and drank way too much, ending the night sprawled in our chairs.
-got a hot stone and oil massage at Kutralco Wellness Spa, the perfect thing to do on a cold misty day while jay went back up to the mountains to go snowboarding again with justin
-marvelled at the camaraderie of the street dogs in Santiago, who, unlike those we saw in Bangkok who were emaciated and shivering, were mostly sturdy and healthy looking and playing together in little packs, and so used to city life that they’d learn to navigate the crosswalks, and would often join you to walk you home late at night, the turn on a time back to wherever they came from, like little citizens and guardians of the streets
-had several other small wonderful moments (and meals). many thanks again to our wonderful hostess.
.::.
after a good solid 8 days in Chile, we went to Peru.
we flew an early morning flight to Lima, and then without leaving the airport directly to Cusco. Lima is a modern city of 8 million; Cusco is an ancient mountain town. after a week in Santiago, i’d had enough of cities. we arrived in Cusco in late afternoon, sought out some immediate Pisco sours (as if he hadn’t had enough already), and then wandered the streets for the evening. narrow cobblestone paths between old buildings like any old city from Boston to Athens, but these were crowded with Peruvians selling everything from pirated DVDs to soccer balls to handicrafts to unidentifiable produce. the streets teemed with life as tiny cabs zoomed by filled with tourists, all there to start journeys to the ancient Incan trails and mountain empires. we went to bed early, as the next day we started the long journey – long even without trekking the Inca Trail – to Machu Picchu.
5:30 am Friday the 13th, we arose and after a short breakfast took a 30 minute cab to the train station to catch the 4 hour train through the Sacred Valley to Aguas Calienties, a small town inaccessible except by foot or rail. we passed small farms and wondered about the residents waving at us by the railside – what do they know about the worlds we come from? and what is it like to be them, living off the land in this amazing place? then, a fast shuffle to find the office to buy passes to the park and the tickets to 30 minute bus ride up an incredible switchback mountain road to the entrance to the ancient cloud city. we finally arrived at 12:30pm – 7 hours after getting up, and that’s the fastest way, without doing any hiking.
the first view of Machu Picchu is the postcard face – the one you see on posters and billboards and in the photos of every person who’s ever visited there. my initial reaction was a mix of elation and initial underwhelm. maybe because it took so long (and cost so much) to finally get there, standing at that first precipice i wondered, just for a minute, if it was worth it. also, from that initial view, the looked so much smaller than i thought it was – a tiny village-when in photos, probably taken from higher points of view, it seemed more expansive.
we went first to see the Incan Drawbridge, which initially seems like “what am i looking at?” but is then utterly amazing…. removable wooden slats over a gap (10 feet?) of an otherwise impassible bridge. this photo does not do justice to the facts that 1. the face this is built into is totally vertical and solid rock and 2. the drop off is several thousand feet and 3. most amazingly, where, exactly, does it go? we looked and looked but once the steps ended could find no conceivable path for it to be leading to on the other side – just sheer cliff.
as we were walking there/back it started to rain, but it was warm, and i didn’t mind. the forest smelled amazing, and the misty mountain peaks were so big, and so surreal my eyes couldn’t take it all in.
then into the actual ancient village, with it’s terraced layers and now-roofless stone houses – a maze and a garden, a village and a cathedral. we wandered, played with the grass muching llamas, and then after a few claps of thunder it REALLY started to rain. there was almost no wind, and the rain fell hard from a still sky. would it ever pass? we finally took shelter with the other tourists in a couple of thatched huts, and waited. 30 minutes passed, and finally the rain let up, and we spent another hour or so wandering the paths, taking all the steps that seemed to go nowhere and discovering the circuitous nature, the labyrinth, the genius of the stonework, the irrigation paths built into the stones, the rocks laid out so as move the flow of water to prevent flooding. what was life like in this place, then? what did the children do, the women? their routines, their songs, their kitchens? as someone who came so far to be there, it was only natural to wonder: did they ever go up and down? their vista was vast, but how far did they actually travel, and if so, how?
the mist rose from the valley below, and for a while we were overtaken with clouds, but then the sun came back, and soon it was time to go.
back down down down the mountain, to Aguas Calientes, where we enjoyed pisco sours before getting back on the train. for the ride back, we had no other option than to take the luxury train, as so many people hike up to machu picchu and then take the train back down that all the cheap backpacker trains were booked. it was a sticker shock when we booked the trip, but at that moment, approaching the train and seeing all the beautifully lit cars with their velvet seats, straight out of a 1920s film, i was immediately over how much it cost. we were wet, tired, and hungry, and this was the perfect thing. the train had a bar car in which a live band played music – latin covers of beatles songs, traditional peruvian music – and all the people in the car were given percussion instruments. with the booze flowing free and everyone on an already natural high from being in such an amazing place, the mood was almost ecstatic. we sang along and danced, and then went back to our table for dinner, a 4 course meal, served in full. while the train ride there seemed to take forever, this one flew by fast, and we were back in Cusco before we could even finish our last glasses of wine.
the next day we wandered the streets a little more, purchased some art (paying too much, probably) and sat on the balcony of the organic restaurant, Greens Organic, watching the tourists and the peruvians interact in the narrow street below. then it was back to the airport, back to Lima.
.::.
we only had 24 hours in Lima. even though we arrived in Lima with time to get dinner, take a nap and then go out on the town Saturday night, either i had a wicked hangover from that neverending wine in the luxury train the night before or the days at altitude in Cusco (11,600 feet) had finally gotten to me (or maybe the combination of the two) – i had a pretty bad headache most of the day on Saturday, and was exhausted and not much in the mood to go out. we stayed at the JW Marriott in Lima – the only 5 star hotel in the city, across from a seaside mall built into the oceanside cliffs of Miraflores, and honestly, there really wasn’t much reason to leave. so we didn’t.
Sunday we woke up late, the weather was drizzling and gray, but we did walk from the beach into the city far enough to visit the Huaca Pucllana – ancient (200-700AD) Incan Ruins of a ceremonial site. well, sort of visit. we got there after it closed. but we could see its crazy adobe structure from the outside.
dinner, then back to the airport to head home.
.::.
the way back.
our flight was scheduled to leave at 00:35am on Monday, and we got to the airport at about 10:00pm Sunday night. the line to check in for flights to the US on LAN was incredibly long, and it took until 11:15 to get to the counter. note: when they say be there 3 hours early, sometimes they mean it. we got there, and she says, “your flight has been delayed until 3:40am”. ARGH. 4 more hours in the airport. FINE. but then the boarding passes she gives us still say 00:35…..whatever……so we go to the pre-security area, where all the restaurants are. jay plops down at starbucks (for the wi-fi), i go next door to the tiny spa to get a manicure. i have slight anxiety that the flight might get moved back up (it happens), or that she gave us wrong information (their computer systems had so many glitches, so much misinformation, the boards didn’t update), but i tried to relax and let it go. so i’m sitting there, my freshly-polished nails drying, and suddenly jay comes running over. COME ON WE HAVE TO GO, THE FLIGHT LEAVES AT 1:15. it’s 12:45. and we haven’t been through immigration or security yet. we basically have 10 minutes. we run.
i get held up at security because of something setting off the metal detector. jay takes off without me to get to the flight, to hold it. i almost cry waiting behind slow people at immigration. 2 wrongly identified gates later, sweaty, panicked and out of breath, we’re told, “oh, that meant we are going to give an update at 1:15″. at 1:15 they say, “this flight is expected to leave at 3:40″. and now we’re just sitting there at the gate.
eventually, we get home.
.::.
i don’t mean to take away from the fun we had on the trip by framing the travelogue starting and ending with our airline debacles. air travel is a luxury, and i always try to put it into perspective that no matter what a pain in the ass it is, we’d never get to see the other parts of the world without it (and our friendly lonely planet guidebook reminded us that just one trans-atlantic flight by one person causes more carbon pollution than most families in the world emit in a year – this is privilege?). a 30-hour flight to australia seems like forever, but how long would it take otherwise? the real surreal part about it to me is that walking the ropes of an airport always makes me feel like i’m in some sort of game – there’s always running, stress, odd questions to answer from immigration, changing time tables, people trapped inside, everyone with an agenda, an objective. it’s a microcosm of modern culture, and if and when i can step back from the annooyances, the stress, i find it highly amusing.
.:.
i’ve been to 9 other countries (Mexico, Canada, the Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Chile, Peru) in the past 12 months, and i still have wanderlust.
.::.
i’ve always found it sort of strange that when celebrities or athletes or anyone who’s accomplished something great gets interviewed on television, the interviewer always asks: “so what’s next for you?”, as if winning the nobel prize or starring in the highest grossing movie of all time or winning 7 gold medals isn’t enough. but that’s how some humans are, seekers who constantly want to know: what’s next?
next, i’m going to burning man, for the sixth time. in 10 days.
Filed in autobiographical, travel | Tagged with chile, justin, peru, south america, wanderlust | Comments (3)Chile+Peru
Chile: http://www.flickr.com/photos/amyleblanc/sets/72157624684347780/
Peru: http://www.flickr.com/photos/amyleblanc/sets/72157624740043934/
and we’re off
look for flickrs (mine/jay’s) from the southern hemisphere
Filed in travel | Tagged with chile, exploding dog, peru, south america, wanderlust | Comment (0)peel off the layers
speaking of europe: i do know that i have not written up anything more about our European Vacation, and i admit that now a lot of the details are fuzzy, and maybe i won’t. in summary: Amsterdam is a dream + i <3 bicycle culture, Berlin has taken proper advantage of the years since WWII and The Wall and become a fantastic city full of art and culture and music and i hear the only real complaint is re: WINTER, Prague is a fairytale, IMHO Vienna took the years since WWII/Communism and became overzealously Westernized and boring and i suggest maybe going to the mountains of Austria instead, Buda-Pest is funky and cool with lots of great bars and nightlife; the economy (and therefore local disposition) is slightly depressed, but i could imagine living there. what more can i say? we went to a lot of insanely beautiful churches (in two of which i was moved to light prayer candles) and walked as far as our legs would take us (i think we walked for almost 10 straight hours on my birthday in prague. oh yeah, i celebrated my 33rd birthday in prague!) and made sure to get up into the highest point possible in each city. we ate at approx 60-90 cafes/restaurants across europe and only in Vienna was ordering a problem wrt language barriers. we went to at least 20 bars and 7 music venues. we rode all kinds of trains and never for a minute did we wish we had a car.
i will go back again, maybe to revisit some of these places, but more for all the places we didn’t go, but before then i would like to visit South America and Africa (gotta get to the southern hemisphere to complete!). in my wanderlust dreams for 2010 there is: Puerto Rico (w/RBM), Cuba (with jayeesha), Chile/Peru/Argentina (helen!), as well as trips to see the family in Michigan, weddings here and there, and also the pilgrimages to Las Vegas and Burning Man. can i fit all this in while keeping a job? i think maybe.
my mom posted something to Facebook about my travels and one of her friends (possibly a relative) commented something to the effect of “i don’t understand this crazy wanderlust kids these days have”. i also recently had a conversation with another friend about how “entitled” many of us feel about travel, and all i can say is that for me, it’s not about not being happy at home or wanting to flaunt my American wealth in some poorer country by taking advantage of the exchange rates and renting a yacht. i think in this the 21st century, where the things you eat and clothes you wear often come from the other side of the planet, it is not just fickle entitlement to want to travel; it is super important for the affluent who consume most of the world’s resources to see how the rest of the world is living and where their things are coming from. for the amount of money most affluent Americans spend on unnecessary consumer goods, they could travel to a different place at least once a year, and that’s a trade i’m happy to make.
Lust for comfort suffocates the soul
Relentless restlessness liberates me
I feel at home whenever the unknown surrounds me
I receive its embrace aboard my floating house
Wanderlust! relentlessly craving
Wanderlust! peel off the layers
Until we get to the core
