tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26736738566705143812024-02-07T13:41:22.660+11:00Notes From AfarUpdates, photos, and random thoughts from my travels.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-23611924726782414082012-07-03T10:41:00.000+10:002012-07-04T02:42:11.089+10:00SB2K11In an effort to get caught up, I'm going to ignore the normally chronological organization of this blog, and tell you a bit about the trip I took in March 2011 with my sister. Since the details have faded even for me, I'll give you more photos than words. <br />
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First, there was the beautiful Playa del Carmen</div>
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where we ate fantastic Yucatecan food</div>
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and swam in a cenote.</div>
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Then there was this:</div>
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I loved the buildings</div>
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And the varied modes of transport.</div>
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(the stupid Hipstamatic filters make it hard to see - you're looking at a horse drawn carriage transporting a rocking chair)</div>
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But even though we found a thermos of this</div>
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I did not love the food.</div>
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However, the diving was fantastic, and so was just laying on the beach.</div>
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But the very best part was spending 10 days with my sister. She's a wonderful woman. Definitely a very special trip.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-32914601331277557492012-06-30T10:28:00.000+10:002012-07-03T06:25:21.093+10:00Tokyo, Part NiAfter our lovely time at the hot springs, we headed back to Tokyo for one final night.<br />
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By this point in our trip we had zero ambition for sight seeing, although we still checked out the big department stores and fancy shops in Ginza near our hotel. <br />
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Mostly though we were excited to try Japanese whiskey,<br />
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and Kobe beef. I didn't have a fork, but I did cut it with a chopstick, just to prove to I could. Yum! </div>
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I'm still mad I didn't order a second steak. </div>
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And the next day, we lazed around, enjoying our last night in a hotel for a while, before heading to a final, or rather finale, meal at <a href="http://www.cnngo.com/tokyo/eat/michelin-starred-master-tells-us-how-eat-sushi-203135">Sushi Sawada</a>. I don't have enough superlatives. All I can say is even after all the fish we'd eaten, even after that traumatic abalone, Michelin-starred sushi still tastes special. </div>
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They don't let you take photos, so I couldn't capture the gorgeous spot prawns, or the squid tentacles being finely diced, mixed with rice and stuffed back into the body of the squid, or the wasabi being grated to order, or the delicate tendrils hanging off the grape leaves he used as plates for the veggie rolls he serves as part of his extended tasting menu. <span style="background-color: white;">I had to grab this photo off the interwebs.</span><a href="http://i.cdn.cnngo.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/inline_image_624x416/2011/07/05/Sushi1-1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://i.cdn.cnngo.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/inline_image_624x416/2011/07/05/Sushi1-1200.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">But notice the special fish locker behind him, with slots perfectly sized to hold his lacquer-ware trays of precious fish. It's that kind of a place.</span></div>
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The chef doesn't speak English and so he focused mostly on his Japanese guests which left us feeling a bit neglected, but MAN. I will remember the three grades of tuna (fatty, semi-fatty, and semi-semi fatty) that he served us, from the same fish caught near Kyoto - he told us that much - for the rest of my life. Just as I'll remember this entire fantastic trip.</div>
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<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&noautoplay=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5759619836303684161%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCMfRssqgv7mb_AE%26hl%3Den_US" height="192" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="288"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-52875947218681357142012-06-30T10:04:00.000+10:002012-06-30T10:04:31.177+10:00HakoneThe day after we went to Hiroshima we left Kyoto and traveled to Hakone, a town in the mountains close to Tokyo. It was nice to be at a bit of elevation where the air was cooler, if no less humid. Everything there is so GREEN! <br />
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It rained much of the time we were there, but we didn't mind so much because this was supposed to be the mellower, "vacation" portion of the vacation. We did visit the Hakone Open Air Museum, which has a marvelous collection of modern art sculptures, displayed in a very pleasant park,<br />
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along with it's very own hot spring-fed foot bath.<br />
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We also stopped at Woody's which was quite aplty named. It was pretty cool to see what Americana looks like, Japanese style. And at this point in the trip, we were happy to eat something that didn't include fish, and to have a shot of SoCo.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQZ-P2u7nRXgFP4fTO7sKhdKlhj0WrAH-dVLRPrlIaynft_FbcifxzP35tQPx1SmnUuDZkLiN5JxfHcRY7DZHeEuiYknfDOV_cnVqsog_I_-puSTYJio-WtGpy70pA9XGIh3I_I40fF4R/s1600/P1020694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQZ-P2u7nRXgFP4fTO7sKhdKlhj0WrAH-dVLRPrlIaynft_FbcifxzP35tQPx1SmnUuDZkLiN5JxfHcRY7DZHeEuiYknfDOV_cnVqsog_I_-puSTYJio-WtGpy70pA9XGIh3I_I40fF4R/s200/P1020694.JPG" width="200" /></a>The detour into "western" culture was all the more of a contrast because the first night we were in town we stayed at a semi-traditional ryokan. The beds were western style, but we had to wear our yukatas to our (very fishy) dinner and breakfast in the communal dinning room. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWLIUl4OGFAGfuF0PAKIEmT3sbpGl4hVGzI2alOSKsPyU5qyQUWIiNTkVMR9_TZGOKHQjC8uV9dF_PN-VjM4yz65Gd1x3Bxf4SN6PwmskRyvzrIuOztJp9nJgkj7nZKvhkQSdenr4uC-Y/s1600/IMG_4951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWLIUl4OGFAGfuF0PAKIEmT3sbpGl4hVGzI2alOSKsPyU5qyQUWIiNTkVMR9_TZGOKHQjC8uV9dF_PN-VjM4yz65Gd1x3Bxf4SN6PwmskRyvzrIuOztJp9nJgkj7nZKvhkQSdenr4uC-Y/s200/IMG_4951.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Overall, that place was rather depressing (the property felt neglected, and our room smelled strongly of mildew) so the next morning we were happy to get an early start on the traditional tour of the Hakone area. I'd hoped to see some of the Japanese "back country" this trip, and although I knew Hakone doesn't qualify, I still had to laugh as we spent the day moving from a mountain train to a cable car to a gondola to a replica pirate ship to a bus, to a.... I lost track of the number of modes of transportation we took that day, but it was all very scenic, </div>
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and we did get to see some of the geothermal activity the area is known for.</div>
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Right as we got hungry for lunch it started to pour, so we holed up in the Gyoza Center and ate ourselves silly.</div>
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Although it was warm and cozy, and lovely to sit and look out at the rain while eating one of my favorite things in the world, it wasn't the best idea because shortly after we left we took the train partway down the mountain to our next hotel <a href="http://www.taiseikan.co.jp/english/">Taiseikan</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2JEr9ylWeBdF8iia-O38j9yosKpNULRZ9nnd7pFipsGxR6b7tKDT-HusfcNOMYCEnAWFHqmLlvN7iUrIZvQ5nbF7huunISwm54-b7gkk96kwlZjUsW8O3vF13rY4C6p-W7fjCwaZ3bCv/s1600/P1020826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj2JEr9ylWeBdF8iia-O38j9yosKpNULRZ9nnd7pFipsGxR6b7tKDT-HusfcNOMYCEnAWFHqmLlvN7iUrIZvQ5nbF7huunISwm54-b7gkk96kwlZjUsW8O3vF13rY4C6p-W7fjCwaZ3bCv/s200/P1020826.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZGT1FVTO9KoWnWRBhaK0FDqmD-yfRFcqaS0tiOukU7Va6B_oDgGSHReD4FSj-dOTy7Q5Ekylk-F9Qank10mejnj8OMIRfr3vZF3TbwWODEBE2eGgvKc9ME1lA4bgDJemhfgteH75091x/s1600/P1020805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZGT1FVTO9KoWnWRBhaK0FDqmD-yfRFcqaS0tiOukU7Va6B_oDgGSHReD4FSj-dOTy7Q5Ekylk-F9Qank10mejnj8OMIRfr3vZF3TbwWODEBE2eGgvKc9ME1lA4bgDJemhfgteH75091x/s200/P1020805.JPG" width="133" /></a>A true ryokan with its own hot spring baths (I guess that makes it an onsen?) situated at the bottom of a steep gorge, right on a river, we were blown away by this place. It might have been the private cable car you take to get down to the hotel, or the fact that we were waited on hand and foot the whole time, or their enormous outdoor hot spring pools right on the river, but I have a feeling it was all of the above. All I know is that by the time I took my 5th soak, in our own private hot spring, I was <i>finally</i> on vacation in Japan.</div>
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Unfortunately, I was still full of lovely gyoza by the time our elaborate dinner started being served to us in our room. Still, t<span style="background-color: white;">he only thing that marred the whole experience was </span><span style="background-color: white;">the live abalone that arrived at our table for dinner that night, twitching before it was steamed alive. I swear I can still hear it screaming.</span></div>
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<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&noautoplay=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5759611666850261041%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCJ3T6eXy4oT99wE%26hl%3Den_US" height="192" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="288"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-27844458122851778462012-06-30T09:19:00.001+10:002012-07-21T01:42:27.516+10:00Sake<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlAly_XV4ZDDL5cAslFkKdWkuyWmoAuS0jWoLOYnnJseHBm3SQYytAxcr2Xckj9C-O1bldEIzs7GGIsNOh2Fw6b5EGSHsutj3UyXJhp4VtUJSL1VbCS73qFNMKfM1cxkhxwmwItds1zo9/s1600/P1020549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlAly_XV4ZDDL5cAslFkKdWkuyWmoAuS0jWoLOYnnJseHBm3SQYytAxcr2Xckj9C-O1bldEIzs7GGIsNOh2Fw6b5EGSHsutj3UyXJhp4VtUJSL1VbCS73qFNMKfM1cxkhxwmwItds1zo9/s200/P1020549.JPG" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHsOt2hDGN2aEvbNGv3Veg55LzJZPfsWGCbXw1bVkWI0lzembOJeeWfxiF6XgGSfGVNFKThBxolRYNnclA0QM7QALwVhSCGLrMhGdie68e_P8Gd50rLEVknFirezVTXZzlkHE3mxy7HtO/s1600/P1020545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHsOt2hDGN2aEvbNGv3Veg55LzJZPfsWGCbXw1bVkWI0lzembOJeeWfxiF6XgGSfGVNFKThBxolRYNnclA0QM7QALwVhSCGLrMhGdie68e_P8Gd50rLEVknFirezVTXZzlkHE3mxy7HtO/s200/P1020545.JPG" width="200" /></a>When we got back to Kyoto from Hiroshima, we needed to lighten the mood a little bit, so we walked through the trendy/cute area between Sanjo and Shijo west of the river. It reminded me a lot of Nolita, in NYC, and it was probably a good thing for my wallet that most of the stores were closed. Even more of the ground floor spaces had been converted to boutiques than the last time I visited, but I was very happy to see my street-food izakaya guy was still doing well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVMMpt1POb7bP4hf-CwojOG9L63f1zqSdr0sx1qk9YXela3r_NRA2izYeefNwAPFqvqdEs9vvGRvye5mPM-PhIP8dCId822eHdo4Gllhf30pIwU-KE_z2p5xL92XU0QkRbQG7w53MCDua/s1600/P1020569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfVMMpt1POb7bP4hf-CwojOG9L63f1zqSdr0sx1qk9YXela3r_NRA2izYeefNwAPFqvqdEs9vvGRvye5mPM-PhIP8dCId822eHdo4Gllhf30pIwU-KE_z2p5xL92XU0QkRbQG7w53MCDua/s200/P1020569.JPG" width="133" /></a>Eventually we got to our destination: <a href="http://www.sakebar-yoramu.com/about_eng.html">Bar Yoramu</a>. Run by an western expat (Israeli? we couldn't get a good read, and he was very mysterious) who fell in love with Japan, Japanese culture, and sake, it's a treat to visit. The fact that the store is a hand-made soba noodle shop by day, and a whatever-the-equivalent-of-micro-brew-is-for-sake bar by night I think means the space is steeped in foodie fetishism. Which means that it wasn't a wild night out, but it was a fantastic way to taste unusual, delicious sakes with someone who is only too happy to explain what is unique about what you're drinking. (And how to drink it.) We tried some more "standard" ones...<br />
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Some more "unusual" ones...<br />
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which I definitely found challenging, tasting as they did like sweat, and feet. Um, I meant they tasted earthy. Yeah. <br />
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And because we were there, and the bottles were there, and because all sorts of things start to seem like a good idea after 6 glasses of sake, we tried three more. <br />
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Which actually turned out to be a great choice, because the blue bottle on the right, which tasted distinctly of apples, was my favorite. So if anyone reading this can decipher the label and help me try to track down my own bottle, I would be hugely grateful. Otherwise I might just have to go back. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUL44GxsCa2xqSNHCVEMkFD0jPmUOjkC0hvSMu0tJdIHG6e8_XqbxzS6GT9BSzFKAxm7dJN6-UAv5m31AZW_P7Nb9vnrWHY5woe4k1mark3OvN1io4Lf6B4nAiakeaXVjsMaVi89Y0S5gc/s1600/P1020563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUL44GxsCa2xqSNHCVEMkFD0jPmUOjkC0hvSMu0tJdIHG6e8_XqbxzS6GT9BSzFKAxm7dJN6-UAv5m31AZW_P7Nb9vnrWHY5woe4k1mark3OvN1io4Lf6B4nAiakeaXVjsMaVi89Y0S5gc/s200/P1020563.JPG" width="200" /></a>We also tried fried mochi, which was nothing like the stuff wrapped on the outside of the balls of green tea ice cream I used to buy at Berkeley Bowl, and yuba, which I learned is the soy-milk equivalent of that skin that forms on the top boiled milk that used to so freak me out. <br />
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<a href="http://images.travelpod.com/tripwow/photos/ta-00ac-fc8a-39e3/zocalo-at-christmas-mexico-city-mexico+1152_12876921272-tpfil02aw-860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://images.travelpod.com/tripwow/photos/ta-00ac-fc8a-39e3/zocalo-at-christmas-mexico-city-mexico+1152_12876921272-tpfil02aw-860.jpg" width="320" /></a>[Allow me to digress: when I was 9, we spent Christmas in Mexico City, which considering it was 1989, and my younger sister was only 6 means the trip was more adventurous and exotic than it sounds today. And although I do have memories of the lights on the plaza, the impressive amount of gold leaf on the inside of the cathedral,<br />
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and the cardinals in their pointy hats, what I remember MOST vividly is going out with my parents for hot milk and pastries after midnight mass. Since I was raised a non-believer, with a dash of cultural Judaism, you'd think the mass would've impressed me. Or even just the fact that I'd been allowed to stay up so far past my bedtime. Nope. What really sticks in my mind is the trauma of getting milk that! had! something! floating! on! the! top! I don't know how my parents didn't wring my neck.]<br />
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You might be pleased to learn, after that sidebar, that the yuba was bland but quite nice. And the mochi was lovely, but so too were the snacks we procured at 7-Eleven on the way back to the hotel. Because after 9 glasses of sake, <u>everything</u> seems like a good idea. E<span style="background-color: white;">ven convenience store fish. </span><span style="background-color: white;">Even a King Size Cup of Noodles!</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-801084415507243102012-06-14T11:45:00.001+10:002012-06-14T11:47:16.092+10:00HiroshimaAlthough Kyoto has enough temples to keep even an efficient tourist busy for a month, it turns out we're not really temple people. (Or museum people, which is why there are so many pictures of food on this travel blog.) So the next day we decided to head to Hiroshima, because we'd heard the memorials there were really worth a visit. It wasn't a "yipee - vacation!" way to spend the day, but it still felt very worthwhile. <br />
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The Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall is an old building very close to the hypocenter of the explosion that partly survived the blast. Now known as the A-Bomb Dome, it's been preserved as a memorial. The eerie sight of it,<br />
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in real life now surrounded by a vibrant modern city, </div>
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and in photos, standing alone when everything around it was leveled, is very affecting.</div>
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The Peace Museum presents a surprisingly neutral and balanced view of events, all things considered. The photos, descriptions and artifacts of the damage done by the bomb (three types - shock waves, heat/fire, and radiation) are almost impossible to bear. But the thing that I found most compelling were the historical documents they've assembled, showing the decisions and maneuvering that led up to the dropping of the bomb. There's a lot they don't teach us in US history, including how much effect the political situation with the Soviets had. (The bomb was never considered for Germany, only Japan.) </div>
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I was very impressed. And, after a long day walking through the museum, also impressed that a) I was hungry for lunch, and b) anyone living in that city would serve it to an American, let alone be friendly when I made a mess of trying to eat (really good!) okonomiyaki. </div>
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But there you go - it turns out humanity is resilient and wonderful as well as terrible, and I can only deviate from the topic of food for so long.
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<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5753702246687425953%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCJzbx9vV7PioxAE%26hl%3Den_US" height="192" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="288"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-71533075834176411002012-06-07T10:14:00.001+10:002012-06-14T11:16:28.743+10:00Kyoto, the second time.Day 4 - Monday (cont'd)<br />
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Upon our arrival we headed to <a href="http://www.hotelkanra.jp/">Hotel Kanra</a>, which is a boutique hotel, very design-focused but also very Japanese. I loved it, so much so I didn't want to leave, but they only had space for us on one night - I guess I'm not the only one who loves it!<br />
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That night we went out for Okonomiyaki. It was better than <a href="http://celiasnotes.blogspot.jp/2010/09/good-bad-and-strange.html">last time</a>, and I liked the yakisoba. After dinner, we walked around the futuristic-looking Kyoto station for a bit, cruising the Isetan department store, which made me realize how far, as a genre, such things have fallen state-side. The grand staircase of the station was impressive, but the fact that there's a Cafe Du Monde there that <i>!</i><i style="font-style: italic;">does not serve beignets! </i>was not.<br />
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Day 5 - Tuesday<br />
We started with a very nicely presented, but slightly-too-foreign breakfast at our hotel. It turns out that as interested in food as I am, and as open to new items as I try to be, it's a big challenge to adapt my breakfast preferences. I remember this from my visit to Brazil back in 2000, when I encountered strongly garlic-flavored meaty black beans for breakfast. I wound up loving those beans at other meals, but in the morning, it was just too much. Likewise, whole fish (their eyes seem to follow you), mysterious pickled vegetables, and uber-runny eggs are not for me at 7 am, not matter how much my fellow dinners enjoy it. I do love the rice though, which is flavorful enough to eat on its own.<br />
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The first sight we headed for in Kyoto was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fushimi_Inari-taisha">Fushimi Inari</a>, which I'd loved so much on my last trip. This time around I still found it a fantastic place to visit, but we quickly discovered that on a weekday morning it's also a favorite among school groups, and the tranquility of the shrine is rather marred by the hordes of thundering pre-teens racing through the lanes of torii gates at top speed. We gave it a shot, hiking up the mountain in the hopes of outdistancing them. I had ambitions of making the top, until as we were all out of breath we passed a sign that told us we had another 4km to go. Since by this point in the trip I already had a serious case of tired feet, I quickly gave up on that project.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6Am3ilphb12EMqS9EdLF4DSVjLdl-RWPPLiCLyi4dqvCFSwCO8JTGDTUJtAJxnzutjZ7-wt_1T7YvD9epkKPJZRBVZTJtQHap0VXUVkQI5Jn-bxWQj14aWw7qglk8WhwH_UCGhQQ0jJ-/s1600/P1020367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6Am3ilphb12EMqS9EdLF4DSVjLdl-RWPPLiCLyi4dqvCFSwCO8JTGDTUJtAJxnzutjZ7-wt_1T7YvD9epkKPJZRBVZTJtQHap0VXUVkQI5Jn-bxWQj14aWw7qglk8WhwH_UCGhQQ0jJ-/s200/P1020367.JPG" width="200" /></a>Just like last time I visited, right as we were leaving, the skies opened up and it started to pour. We returned to Kyoto station in a heavy cloudburst, and decided we'd check out "ramen alley" before going anywhere else. Bowl 2 of ramen for the trip was much better than bowl 1, not least because we had the novelty of paying at the vending machine outside the restaurant. I ordered the shoyu broth instead of the miso the way I usually do, and I was very pleased with my choice. Just don't ask me the name of the restaurant we chose - it was whichever one looked like it had the biggest crowd at that particular moment.<br />
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After lunch we changed hotels, then went in search of an ice cream parlor that Doug had read about that makes their own ice cream, fresh. Contrary to my experience on my last trip when I could never find the things I was looking for, after a short walk through the picturesque streets of the Gion neighborhood, we made our way upstairs in a very nicely restored old-style building and sat down to a lovely treat of brown rice, green tea, black sesame and red bean ice cream, with mochi and raspberries. In addition to the delicious ice cream, I loved the atmosphere - this was clearly a spot where people came for a "treat", so I felt like we'd sniffed out something extra special about Kyoto.<br />
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We left the shop in another cloudburst, but that matters less when you're a tourist, and we wandered along through Gion, to the well-preserved but even more touristy pedestrian streets of Sannen-zaka and Ninen-zaka. Along the way we stopped in a spot that had a plaque about geisha, and somehow wound up as part of a school group's vacation photos.<br />
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Eventually, we made our way all the way up to Kiomizu-dera, which unfortunately was still largely under construction, just as it had been two years ago. But this time it provided a great spot to stay in out of the rain, and I was actually brave enough to drink the waters that draw such a crowd. I later read that they're supposed to provide success in study, which perhaps explains why the cute little pudgy Chinese kid in front of me in line was gulping the stuff as fast as he could! <br />
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That night, after a brief rest in the hotel and a change out of our soggy shoes, we wandered out in search of dinner. We walked along Pontocho, aiming for the next canal over with the thought that one might have cheaper, but still picturesque restaurants. Quite the opposite it turns out, so we kept wandering, until eventually we wound up in what was clearly the red light district. Not that there were prostitutes, but there were plenty of strip clubs, which is when I figured out it doesn't matter what language the signs are printed in, the indications for a strip club are probably the same the world over. The funny thing was, the street we were on looked oddly familiar, and after a bit of wandering back and forth, sure enough we stumbled on Sen Mon Ten - the delicious gyoza restaurant I'd found on my last visit. Many gyoza later, we stumbled around the corner and also found Pooh's - the cafe I'd loved so much last time too. Even though we didn't get to try their egg salad sandwiches, it's still wonderful to know the business is alive and well.
<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5753694951375636817%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCKSDrZrEx9-uEg%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-43161450666655832172012-06-03T19:30:00.002+10:002012-06-09T07:39:51.767+10:00Japan part 1 - Tokyo<strike>I finally have Internet, but no keyboard, and no way to upload photos, so I'm starting with an outline, to be fleshed out more later.</strike> Ok, starting to put photos up. We took nearly 1500 on the trip, so it'll be a while before I've got the albums in good shape.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAM227y4P2Z1ahM1DMx1zQkomZtlVOxhASvA4pVVevnG-OW1LFcoXbDyIDjEchLS9zVnMCuYEDIeCC-4Okm-gYIlMNGiYMS-nbIrO74eHHapgIvTOdizsqHNqXRFX-I58v_BCNZ4ZLyXl/s1600/IMG_0167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAM227y4P2Z1ahM1DMx1zQkomZtlVOxhASvA4pVVevnG-OW1LFcoXbDyIDjEchLS9zVnMCuYEDIeCC-4Okm-gYIlMNGiYMS-nbIrO74eHHapgIvTOdizsqHNqXRFX-I58v_BCNZ4ZLyXl/s200/IMG_0167.JPG" width="200" /></a> 1) The flight, on an A380 operated by Singapore Airlines was long but relatively comfortable. The only difficulty was that the timing made it so we lost a whole night of sleep. Overall, jet lag wasn't too bad on this trip though. I guess it helps not to be standing all day in a cavernous tradeshow hall!<br />
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2) Upon arrival at Narita, we traded in our Japan Rail Pass vouchers for real passes (a process which involved forms in triplicate and lots of official stamps) and took the Narita Express train into Shibuya Station. Surfacing there, we arrived to the complete madness of Times Square, not quite on New Year's Eve, but maybe St. Patty's Day. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzEg8jukqzlOwxj3_tN1vqEcssbGInmByuD_0AG_uUKe7xyGZ_cH88uvMlOXCNM0CPU4oCCessNhgLnorRd3QUsNSQk9I17FRjDWYo1u2y_5MQb2su9O1XPNGHGVeQuzf14hJ0UKcWusR/s1600/IMG_0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzEg8jukqzlOwxj3_tN1vqEcssbGInmByuD_0AG_uUKe7xyGZ_cH88uvMlOXCNM0CPU4oCCessNhgLnorRd3QUsNSQk9I17FRjDWYo1u2y_5MQb2su9O1XPNGHGVeQuzf14hJ0UKcWusR/s200/IMG_0169.JPG" width="200" /></a> A ton of people crowded the streets, and we quickly realized most of them were drunk. We were nearly drunk from the jet lag, and had a hell of a time figuring out where our hotel was. Two friendly policemen and a lot of arm waving later though, we'd located it just across a massive intersection and around the corner.<br />
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3) The Tokyo Granbell Shibuya Hotel was home for the next three nights. The rooms are tiny, but totally functional. The only thing was that to avoid having the bathroom be windowless (a nice touch, actually) your toilet overlooks your bed, which takes some getting used to, but luckily they provide multicolored curtains to pull across the glass for privacy.<br />
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4) We quickly went back out (before we could collapse in a pile of mush) and navigated our way to the first bowl of ramen. This was also the first time of many that we proved totally incapable of following the directions and maps we were given, in this case by our friendly hotel clerk. Oops. We should have tried harder. As cool as it was to queue with the crowd of young (drunk) businessmen in identical black suits, and crowd around tiny tables slurping hot noodles, this bowl of ramen was disappointingly mediocre. I also wondered why our table companions were carrying two massive shopping bags from McDonald's, filled with quarter pounder meals. Any ideas?<br />
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5) We walked around Shibuya a bit, saw the crazy tsunami of people converge on the main intersection when the light turns, and then wandered back to the hotel to collapse in bed.<br />
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Day 2 - Saturday<br />
1) Early start. Ugh jet lag. Bfast in the hotel, which proved to be rubbery eggs, salad, and toast. We were pretty turned off, not realizing that we were getting off lucky as, in deference to all their western guests, they'd left out the whole fish we'd see many times in the future.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHJbQA_QAjX0Advv2wDrKuxBayOiEU_XhzxpBTnfw0tfbOlVHJQfxeluBHREXvp4dysdpVm_vsSvrajTJreofzuGj5rllBWbdAhKR9l-tTPfmRqH8oN6au4QTL_npWd9yF2X7HCH7KrJe/s1600/P1010989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHJbQA_QAjX0Advv2wDrKuxBayOiEU_XhzxpBTnfw0tfbOlVHJQfxeluBHREXvp4dysdpVm_vsSvrajTJreofzuGj5rllBWbdAhKR9l-tTPfmRqH8oN6au4QTL_npWd9yF2X7HCH7KrJe/s200/P1010989.JPG" width="200" /></a> 2) We took the metro to Ueno Park, then followed a walking tour from our guidebook past a series of shrines. We got to see street fairs, numerous old(er) gentlemen setting up the small shrines they were going to parade, guys who looked like they work in an office all week, but take their Saturdays to honor tradition, and because they enjoy the companionship. Off in the distance, we spotted one larger parade and ran to catch up. Big drums, gongs, and a couple of guys in full regalia on horses. I have no idea what we saw, but it made if clear we weren't anywhere close to Kansas! The coolest part of the day is that we kept giving up on following the directions in the walking tour, but still kept stumbling on the things we'd intended to see. Plus lots of serendipity - I loved the bouldering wall we came across, with all it's funny shaped holds.<br />
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3) Akihabara - the electronics district, was overwhelming. We went into a 10 story arcade, which was so full of light and noise I could see why some people have seizures. Lunch we grabbed at a Korean BBQ place in a mall, thrn we changed some $, then it was back to hotel (yay, we figured out the subway") for a nap.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XJjcPrIrWL2AbRDAJzLk9qep0Mt3wXNvSIWYvrRJpeiUnSlugOX9Dsru956Ynpz77U-ysKlTGt3DQ621cRlaxJoI43It3_IqsYdCefmixdDKVFTwGVu_zlyqvpkyCQ-tsE1ohYuGM3ou/s1600/IMG_4711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XJjcPrIrWL2AbRDAJzLk9qep0Mt3wXNvSIWYvrRJpeiUnSlugOX9Dsru956Ynpz77U-ysKlTGt3DQ621cRlaxJoI43It3_IqsYdCefmixdDKVFTwGVu_zlyqvpkyCQ-tsE1ohYuGM3ou/s200/IMG_4711.JPG" width="200" /></a> 4) We were lucky, because dinner that night was with a classmate of mine from business school, Takako and her husband Daisuke at an awesome yakitori place that we never would have found on our own. I tried raw chicken. Breast, gizzard, heart. Couldn't bear to try the liver. But it was fantastic to see Takako again, and really feel like I was experiencing Tokyo, instead of just touring it.<br />
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Day 3 - Sunday<br />
1) We had a slower start today. Sat in Starbucks overlooking the busy Shibuya intersection, waiting for the Food Show in the basement of Shibuya Station to open. Once it did, we went a little nuts, buying bread from all the amazing French-style bakeries, gyoza, pork buns (turns out the Japanese like the same parts of Chinese cuisine that we do), plus several of those wonderful triangles of seaweed-wrapped rice, filled with we-never-knew-what. There's probably a system to the color coding of the wrappers, and if someone could let me know what it is before I come back, that would be awesome. This one was filled with salmon - yum!<br />
<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5751780419631964433%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCKHzhIub1vOYAQ%26hl%3Den_US" height="192" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="288"></embed>
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After breakfast we wandered in completely wrong direction, then turned ourselves around and walked to yoyogi park. It was unbelievably cool to see all the ways people are using the space. We wandered through harajuku, but I was very disappointed that we saw no cosplay. Where are the goths or rockabilly guys? We then walked through Omotesando, and had lunch at nice cafe. It felt like a place I'd be excited about back home.<br />
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2) We took the subway again, over to the Tokyo Dome for baseball game, where they were playing the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters The crowd was pretty tame, although I was much impressed by the brightly dressed girls running up and down, w big jugs of various drinks strapped to their backs. And the crowd is very coordinated, led by the cheering section, which included a drum to keep time, and horns, and big flags being waved...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHzApZ4pslTKv_KvEupWD4rJ9IxOmeqvp8MfANbdh0dkxCH4UYWHT5vPL3XUXtj4i4bXvstmCfyB0em90q1nvVJBLaTFWi_ZVp66XIsProahR1AfiUZbMNhp5qAwe91-whRcddHmf5LHA/s1600/P1020103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinHzApZ4pslTKv_KvEupWD4rJ9IxOmeqvp8MfANbdh0dkxCH4UYWHT5vPL3XUXtj4i4bXvstmCfyB0em90q1nvVJBLaTFWi_ZVp66XIsProahR1AfiUZbMNhp5qAwe91-whRcddHmf5LHA/s320/P1020103.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3) We intended to rest, then head to Shinjuku, but instead fell asleep at 6 pm. Maybe that's why I didn't think the jet lag was so bad this time - I just gave into it!<br />
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Day 4 - Monday<br />
1) luckily, we had gone to bed early, because Monday morning we were up at 4am, headed to Tsukiji fish market. We were too late for the big tuna auctions, but waited in line for 2+ hours at Sushi Dai. I had fun wandering the nearby shops for a bit, interacting with the friendly vendors. I also met a nice couple from Holland who were also braving the seemingly endless wait. But eventually we made it in, to a tiny spot that seats only 8, and must have a size limit on the women who work there, because no one over 90lbs would be able to squeeze behind the dinners. And it was worth the wait, because we ate AMAZING SUSHI! Fatty tuna, flounder, mackerel, omlet, semi fatty tuna, soy marinated maguro, giant clam (live!) Spanish mackerel... Two more plus salmon. Omekase for only 50usd!<br />
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<embed flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F103723721726406053022%2Falbumid%2F5751782008366648449%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCJH0m4OXgKTWIg%26hl%3Den_US" height="192" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="288"></embed>
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2) After "breakfast" we walked around Tsukiji. The scale and frenzy there is hard to describe, but still everything is all lined up gorgeously - the headless fish, the octopus tentacles, the striped prawns... We also went into the fruit and vegetable market, but that seemed tame in comparison. Still, everything was scrubbed to complete perfection.<br />
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3) That afternoon, we took the Shinkansen to Kyoto. Very cool way to travel! I'm definitely going to look for more excuses to travel by high speed rail.<br />
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<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/103723721726406053022/Wheeee?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCKLG94bgpdickAE&feat=embedwebsite">Wheeee!</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-66988971597496751832012-05-24T04:57:00.000+10:002012-05-24T04:57:35.911+10:00I've missed this!I've missed traveling most of all. But I've also missed the outlet of writing, which is weird, because I definitely don't think of myself as a writer. And every time I've tried keeping a journal I give up in disgust. Somehow, though, this particular medium, in which I'm writing <span style="color: #0b5394;">to</span> an unknown (thankfully) number of friends and family, keeps me from descending into painful navel-gazing. Although you wouldn't know it from this intro...<br />
<br />
Since this is, mostly, a travel blog, I owe you a brief preview of what's in the backlog:<br />
- A trip to a not-to-be-named island in the Caribbean, which I swear I didn't visit, I just found some really great photos.<br />
- My first visit to New Orleans, where I took way too many photos of wrought iron details. And fell in love with Felix's <a href="http://www.foodorleans.com/little-progression-felixs-stanley-21944112">baked oysters</a> and the woman who runs <a href="http://www.upperline.com/">Upperline</a>.<br />
- A fantastic vacation in Kauai, which I enjoyed thoroughly, even though my life was in serious turmoil at the time. Turns out visits to the Garden of Eden will do that.<br />
- And now, starting tomorrow, a return to Japan! It's funny that when I came back to this site to see if I even remembered how to long on, the first thing I saw was my stated intention to return to Japan. I'd forgotten that resolution, as I have so many others. Including most recently a firm intention to learn to make <a href="http://www.foodspotting.com/reviews/896004">bread</a>, but more on that another time. So it makes it all the more wonderful that I've got this trip lined up. 10 days, spread between Tokyo, Kyoto and Hakone. 10 days to indulge my ever-growing addiction to ramen and gyoza. To get up way too early to see giant tuna turned into <a href="http://www.magpictures.com/jirodreamsofsushi/">works of art</a>,<a href="http://www.brightestyoungthings.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/2011_jiro_dreams_of_sushi_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://www.brightestyoungthings.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/2011_jiro_dreams_of_sushi_003.jpg" width="320" /></a> to see a baseball game in another language, to get lost, and find all sorts of adventures in the process. I. Can't. Wait.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-54948317366000538762010-09-28T13:43:00.009+10:002010-09-28T15:25:30.714+10:00More KyotoI've been very remiss about getting the last of my photos and site seeing up, but I got back and dove straight into la vie quotidienne. So naturally, everything about my trip now feels very far away. Still, my last day in Kyoto was definitely worth reporting on.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5521805235051601505%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br />After a very nice night at <a href="http://www.kyoto-ryokan-sakura.com/index_en.html">Ryokan Sakura</a>, where I stayed in a wonderfully peaceful traditional hotel room (with a shockingly high tech toilet), my coworker Arye and I set out to rent bikes and see more of the city. We foraged for breakfast at a grocery store, since by this point in the trip neither of us wanted to face what's generally on a Japanese restaurant breakfast menu. (In case you're wondering, that's omelet with potato salad, hot dogs, or croque monsieur, all with mayo in places you'd never expect, or want, to find it.) The we rented bikes near Kyoto station and pedaled off towards southern Higashiyama, on the southeastern edge of the city, under the first drops of rain.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeOA5pVbG_yUkTvRWlbn53is0MovUcPrPzLdfjOSZHooDA78kMJcV5b883cKepDC6ze_3sNhY04EWrF9y8EncN27CImUjgiJnrWO_eACNKT6HQ5QdU_5ZMO6tL5zekSgjluAMJ4KkF6pI/s1600/IMG_4247.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeOA5pVbG_yUkTvRWlbn53is0MovUcPrPzLdfjOSZHooDA78kMJcV5b883cKepDC6ze_3sNhY04EWrF9y8EncN27CImUjgiJnrWO_eACNKT6HQ5QdU_5ZMO6tL5zekSgjluAMJ4KkF6pI/s200/IMG_4247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521809704098348322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Despite the threatening skies, the rain held off most of the day, although I'm not sure that was a blessing, since the humidity was unbearable. It made the adventure of trying to get to any of the temples in the area rather daunting, since they were all built to take advantage of the inspiring vistas you see from the hill <span style="font-style: italic;">top</span>. Also, I do not recommend trying to follow one of the Lonely Planet walking tours on a bicycle. Your sense of scale will be off, and you will constantly be overshooting the place where you were supposed to turn, or the temple you wanted to see, leading you, in the heat and humidity, to decide that perhaps you really didn't want to see that temple so much after all. Also, there will be very few places to park your bike. I'm just saying.<br /><br />We started at Kiyomizu-dera, a large temple complex located up a steep street called Teapot Lane. Many of the buildings at Kiyomizu were covered in scaffolding and brown tarps, but the ones not under construction were brightly painted and looked almost Tibetan. I was impressed with the grandeur of the main temple building, with the large tour group of elderly (Taiwanese?) tourists that settled in on the veranda and began chanting. <br /><br />I was also amazed at the variety of options you had for praying / wishing / ridding yourself of bad luck. You could buy a charm. You could buy a wood slip, write on it and hang it on a shrine. You could write your bad luck on a piece of special paper and drop it in a fountain to dissolve. You could pray. (The routine seemed to be: approach, toss money into the box, bow, clap, clap, bow & pray, ring the bell. But I might be slightly off there.) You could also, we discovered, wait in a very long line to wash your hands and drink the water that pours in three thin streams off the mountainside. I'm sure the waters have great powers to cure and restore, but I skipped it, as the presence of that many people renders it all very, well, crowded!<br /><br />After Kiyomizu, we made our way (with several false turns, as discussed above) up Ninen-zaka, a beautiful street lined with old buildings.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_myVaf3KLSQ0hhyJ3XmpFEgF39dH9loJCyTJnYFDXDp0eyYna9XAqjhfj80r5LlEHTUF59iNovSiaaMFmiasV636S3b5hwTh_6-8Me8z7GzS2l3yx6fou_FLTVJ59MhldTD0uKD9SsBuY/s1600/IMG_4189.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_myVaf3KLSQ0hhyJ3XmpFEgF39dH9loJCyTJnYFDXDp0eyYna9XAqjhfj80r5LlEHTUF59iNovSiaaMFmiasV636S3b5hwTh_6-8Me8z7GzS2l3yx6fou_FLTVJ59MhldTD0uKD9SsBuY/s200/IMG_4189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521819643488432786" border="0" /></a> Then we pedaled further north along the edge of the hills, overshooting the famous Chion-in temple and landing finally at Shoren-in. I'm not sure what I missed, but I really liked Shoren-in. The temple had several buildings - some newer, some more secluded and older feeling. The gardens were very peaceful, which perhaps is what I needed by that point, as I discovered when sorting my photos later that I'd photographed the same bridge and koi fish 5 times over without realizing it.<br /><br />Leaving Shoren-in, Arye and I started meandering through Gion, the old geisha district. Eventually, we found a cute little canal, which we were following back towards the river when I hit the brakes and declared we were stopping for lunch <span style="font-weight: bold;">right now</span>. We had stumbled on<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUoN82wFHe8whAcm5V_eqgPVTRjEcGFsmwr3hojRZbXkvJncB2D6bBRl487YO_7xtiSXUpZB-LHqZD0qp6PFSlMzovelk1-fPxjKaOOf4DD_D3v-M2odZTEUJPkbfhkJC4o9Bk1loSBpC/s1600/IMG_4208.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUoN82wFHe8whAcm5V_eqgPVTRjEcGFsmwr3hojRZbXkvJncB2D6bBRl487YO_7xtiSXUpZB-LHqZD0qp6PFSlMzovelk1-fPxjKaOOf4DD_D3v-M2odZTEUJPkbfhkJC4o9Bk1loSBpC/s200/IMG_4208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521821566961637314" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://r.tabelog.com/kyoto/A2603/A260301/26006449/">Pooh's Cafe</a>, an adorable little light and airy cafe with a view of the canal. I would love to know who started this business, since it seemed to me a spot that would belong equally in San Francisco, Paris, or Kyoto. I had an amazing yuzu and lemon soda (not too sweet), and a yummy egg salad sandwich (oh that baguette!) with an honest to goodness salad on the side. I have no idea how to tell you to find it if you ever go to Kyoto, other than to find the canal that winds through Gion and head east. But I definitely recommend you try! [I'm not the only one: scroll down to Feb 12 <a href="http://www.ginkopapers.com/fresh_ink/">here</a> for better pictures of the cafe, and the soda.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQ6InjO9SCq1OhtGFPxWrwkSAgZbM1772IYapnHeGOUdq7iMw_vgzAtUFwyL-Xgw3enNIyT8zQpgZEVX675ixYvVXy8pJnCOMj0DGRFbYUN_cjkGbm6mFgohpkBUopGFnRl7VIHuxH07_/s1600/IMG_4228.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQ6InjO9SCq1OhtGFPxWrwkSAgZbM1772IYapnHeGOUdq7iMw_vgzAtUFwyL-Xgw3enNIyT8zQpgZEVX675ixYvVXy8pJnCOMj0DGRFbYUN_cjkGbm6mFgohpkBUopGFnRl7VIHuxH07_/s200/IMG_4228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521826252361619362" border="0" /></a>Suitably refreshed, Arye and I rode back to Kyoto Station to return our bikes, and catch a commuter rail two stops south to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fushimi_Inari-taisha">Fushimi-Inari Taisha</a>. By this point Arye and I were both ready to trade the mysteries of Buddhism for a bit of Shinto, and I'd been much impressed with this spot when I saw it in Memoirs of a Geisha. We arrived right at sundown, and had the chance to wander up the hill filled with thousands of bright <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhTrSgjJOpFW9004TH0dBk_92weEE20g7e0uqupUDV1ipkqfk3e8xlC8bLrJe-6Nv9lnkaZQlCIGqNJoWE6s-YmquoSrJdwj4TPAz3pzzbjCFa52BfXunDQ3FLrCO655V-bPrbUnFwZ5i/s1600/IMG_4239.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhTrSgjJOpFW9004TH0dBk_92weEE20g7e0uqupUDV1ipkqfk3e8xlC8bLrJe-6Nv9lnkaZQlCIGqNJoWE6s-YmquoSrJdwj4TPAz3pzzbjCFa52BfXunDQ3FLrCO655V-bPrbUnFwZ5i/s200/IMG_4239.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521826876642759186" border="0" /></a>orange <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torii">torii</a> gates, past many sculptures of the mischievous foxes that guard the granary, and through the cemeteries, where the graves are piled high with miniature torii. Of all the spots I saw on my trip, this one most closely matched what I'd hoped to find in Japan - tons of history, aesthetically beautiful, and profoundly foreign.<br /><br />That night, I was exhausted. But it was our last night in Kyoto, so after dragging Arye to a gyoza restaurant I'd read about, which was <span style="font-style: italic;">much</span> further away than we'd thought, now that we'd returned to pedestrian speed, I followed him to a fun little bar he'd discovered previously. Buried in the back of a building off Pontocho (an alley of restuarants and bars near the river), you'd expect to find an accounting office of some sort, but instead someone has stuccoed over the inside of the room and added a lot of carpets, creating an oddly appealing little cave. The place was empty, seeing as how it was a Monday, but we still managed to have way too many drinks with the Nepali bartender.<br /><br />Which made it all the more wonderful when I jolted awake suddenly after passing out on my first flight from Osaka to Tokyo the next morning. I glanced out the window and spotted Mount Fuji jutting above the clouds directly off the wing of the airplane. I took it as a reminder that this is a country with so much more for me to come back and discover. Definitely an auspicious end to a wonderful trip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBZqtlbLNOh5UoliRsRPVXcqS2iAZyh48EzH6uWAk1fuiMH5C0aYzqPdz3KUazNlAeJxrzVFXyUQ019MAvidzkM5XUqgSgIpYD9KrfteIAfnXizC_nA3sHHtRwbP_KDdfzI0ltO8NOYDl/s1600/IMG_4249.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBZqtlbLNOh5UoliRsRPVXcqS2iAZyh48EzH6uWAk1fuiMH5C0aYzqPdz3KUazNlAeJxrzVFXyUQ019MAvidzkM5XUqgSgIpYD9KrfteIAfnXizC_nA3sHHtRwbP_KDdfzI0ltO8NOYDl/s400/IMG_4249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521829366816553538" border="0" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-26613947201068875582010-09-14T16:56:00.010+10:002010-09-22T16:04:17.582+10:00Finally, Kyoto<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsprleo1Yp5V-HvcffBGVll_hikAms4XFYZqcw6wI9m6Y-stuIn3I1V_fSVgsb_jZ1_JawfTLyK6kz4QzKs2mptMIIJcZRvpdBQ-fArIreFNrxgkxW_HgGUMMcEIl5rWkI3ebqvtC2hqB6/s1600/IMG_4210.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsprleo1Yp5V-HvcffBGVll_hikAms4XFYZqcw6wI9m6Y-stuIn3I1V_fSVgsb_jZ1_JawfTLyK6kz4QzKs2mptMIIJcZRvpdBQ-fArIreFNrxgkxW_HgGUMMcEIl5rWkI3ebqvtC2hqB6/s200/IMG_4210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519578164176577330" border="0" /></a>The first five days of my trip here were all pretty completely taken up with work. I was able to squeeze in some wandering here and there, and a dinner at a pretty spot looking over the river, but I never managed to shake free in time to see the major sights. But all that changed on Saturday evening, when the conference wrapped up, and I became a full time tourist. Which is perhaps why, two days later, I have a horrible case of museum feet and I feel like I've seen more than enough temples to last me a good long while. Here's what I saw:<br /><br />Saturday, September 11.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAjMClP5IofjG_VKgkpcX4EpPhw54ratnYuZMMfTh-5OQ4vxPjc7cXymfxCW1LgU30pyJbAVrV_qO-UH9CZx4IItOlFny3n2MAqpPPsTfQamqakMl7vE0QLaSenkDc1EquLBDCyrN-ioS/s1600/IMG_3972.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAjMClP5IofjG_VKgkpcX4EpPhw54ratnYuZMMfTh-5OQ4vxPjc7cXymfxCW1LgU30pyJbAVrV_qO-UH9CZx4IItOlFny3n2MAqpPPsTfQamqakMl7vE0QLaSenkDc1EquLBDCyrN-ioS/s200/IMG_3972.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519578860785122738" border="0" /></a><br />After breaking down the trade show booth and schlepping our materials back to the hotel, we went to the area near Kyoto Station in search of dinner. We, meaning my coworkers David, Arye, and I wound up having Ramen at the food court on the 10th floor of the Isetan department store. The ramen was indifferent, but the Grand Staircase we climbed to get there was pretty cool, as was the view, and the fish cake with the restaurant's logo in it that was floating in my ramen.<br /><br />Later, the boys wanted to celebrate the end of a successful show, so we wandered around for a bit looking for a bar. We wound up drinking in a restaurant that serve my favorite, okonomiyake. (Le sigh.)<br /><br />Sunday, September 12.<br />After a quick breakfast with our CEO to debrief about the show, we checked out of our rooms at the <a href="http://www.hotelmonterey.co.jp/cgi-bin/portal/cms/hotelindex.cgi?hid=monkyo">Hotel Monterey Kyoto</a> (a very nice, Western-style hotel, along the lines of a Kimpton property, except all the rooms smelled of cigarettes.) Then we set out to see the sights for real.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXqyZj83P6fw9hyphenhyphenRD6UGa7OajIHupKlHNZqiaJR7cnqaMd_5QxnoKbJ8XEv3NQ5cQfCFX_4p7Vpe-QoQHUqqmpbQGamN1whk-RIWNYSVFAMWjazauTOrAlPoLh27IVq5_ldIjWoRIokyx/s1600/IMG_3988.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXqyZj83P6fw9hyphenhyphenRD6UGa7OajIHupKlHNZqiaJR7cnqaMd_5QxnoKbJ8XEv3NQ5cQfCFX_4p7Vpe-QoQHUqqmpbQGamN1whk-RIWNYSVFAMWjazauTOrAlPoLh27IVq5_ldIjWoRIokyx/s320/IMG_3988.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519579485936095266" border="0" /></a><br />1) First up was Kinkaku-ji, with it's iconic Golden Pavillion, which is on the cover of pretty much every brochure about Kyoto. Although sometimes it may look like <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://q3f.org/wp/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/9-golden-pavillion.jpg&imgrefurl=http://q3f.org/2007/11/27/golden-pavilion/&usg=__7FMgYWjtaH4Qrvr6hl9j29xw-IE=&h=497&w=700&sz=135&hl=en&start=16&zoom=1&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=GWHFJNULxLvM9M:&tbnh=99&tbnw=140&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgolden%2Bpavillion%2Bkyoto%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1276%26bih%3D624%26tbs%3Disch:1">this</a> or <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/00/11/e1/84/the-golden-pavillion.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.tripadvisor.com/LocationPhotos-g298564-Kyoto_Kyoto_Prefecture_Kinki.html&usg=__GRmgFFfC5vtSIUYj4thUaGt_b9Q=&h=450&w=337&sz=37&hl=en&start=1&zoom=1&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=jok8QIodaRtQzM:&tbnh=127&tbnw=95&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgolden%2Bpavillion%2Bkyoto%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26biw%3D1276%26bih%3D624%26tbs%3Disch:1">this,</a> it more frequently looks like <a href="http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/fatkidfrogs/1/1246565444/tpod.html#pbrowser/fatkidfrogs/1/1246565444/filename=golden-pavillion-kyoto.jpg">this</a> (covered in tourists). It was beautiful, and I'm glad I had the chance to wander around the gardens, but I also found myself wishing it weren't quite so hellishly <span style="font-style: italic;">hot!</span> As I mentioned previously, the weather had turned disgusting - 99 degrees and 98% humidity.<br /><br /><br />2) We walked over from Kinkaku-ji to Ryoan-ji Temple, a sprawling complex with a famous raked rock garden. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcw5iLFu4CZJiL4_P0VWEaQppeFNnoPj9na7Hkx4DeelTJ9D9DGwAP49pKVIsPY8ncCnr7uQB-5qM3HZlyMVq0oOoeEEyz_L_t4lz-IAOZbrIh-uhcLp3kXsk-3a64sQF3aFh5IrojYGLH/s1600/IMG_4001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcw5iLFu4CZJiL4_P0VWEaQppeFNnoPj9na7Hkx4DeelTJ9D9DGwAP49pKVIsPY8ncCnr7uQB-5qM3HZlyMVq0oOoeEEyz_L_t4lz-IAOZbrIh-uhcLp3kXsk-3a64sQF3aFh5IrojYGLH/s200/IMG_4001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519610266564929858" border="0" /></a>Again, it was all very beautiful, but since I don't understand the important history these temples represent, nor the Buddhist symbolism (call me silly, but there's no way those rocks look like a tiger and her baby crossing a stream, as advertised), I felt very removed from it all.<br /><br />3) We took a cab over to an area called Arashiyama, which is famed for it's <a href="http://www.google.com/images?q=arashiyama+kyoto&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=FSKPTMOFHIXIvQOz8q3HCw&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=5&ved=0CD8QsAQwBA&biw=1276&bih=624">bamboo groves</a>. It was a cool place to visit, a little ways outside Kyoto proper, and a spot it seems like a lot of Japanese tourists visit. I enjoyed watching the young couples and families, dressed in traditional dress (a couple steps down from full kimono, I think they were in their Sunday yukatas, but still impressive considering the heat.) Also impressive were the very fit dudes wearing black loin cloths who were offering to pull these families in large-wheeled buggies. Definitely an interesting way to see the countryside.<br /><br />We wandered through the bamboo forest (on our own two feet) and saw a shrine with lots of forms of prayers - papers tied on rope fences, calligraphed wooden slips of various shapes and sizes, strings and strings of tiny paper cranes... It made me wish I knew more about what I was seeing, and all the nuances of this place.<br /><br />Coming out of the bamboo forest, I stopped for a soft serve ice cream cone. Unfortunately, I wasn't wise enough to spot the black sesame honey, which I only learned about after the fact, but the plain vanilla was a wonderful nostalgic trip back to summers by Lac Bromont in rural Quebec.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHc53pxbpAwhjLQ4Arg-Py2IGO8OQL08sHlUnlM58clDunQqB1J3K9BcnM8HTynAXH9zoJqG__bjY50hlfYwPqjmW0ifQab09z_rgNPEN-iUUm_-6QBqWr7tB252S_EFh-v52mkYFVFhqT/s1600/IMG_4065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHc53pxbpAwhjLQ4Arg-Py2IGO8OQL08sHlUnlM58clDunQqB1J3K9BcnM8HTynAXH9zoJqG__bjY50hlfYwPqjmW0ifQab09z_rgNPEN-iUUm_-6QBqWr7tB252S_EFh-v52mkYFVFhqT/s200/IMG_4065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519613845597496210" border="0" /></a><br />Before heading back to the city we walked through the gardens at Tenryu-ji,<br />which were very quiet and restful. Again, I'm sure the nuance of the place were lost on me, but I very much enjoyed sitting for a moment and watching the sun, now low in the sky, peak out from under the moody clouds and turn everything golden. (This contemplation made me a wonderfully easy target for the mosquitoes, but I didn't learn that until later.)<br /><br />Upon returning to Kyoto proper, my coworker David split off to to catch the bullet train to Tokyo, leaving Arye and I to check into our new hotel. In an effort to experience a bit of the more traditional side of Japanese hospitality we had booked ourselves into Ryokan Sakura. Although that particular Ryokan didn't offer the most traditional set up - no dinner in the room, no curfew - I did get to stay in a beautiful room with tatami mats, on a futon that I set up every night. It was a great experience, and a beautiful room, and I'd highly recommend that spot to anyone. More about this later...<br /><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5519577761282167521%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="288" height="192"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-8623097693911161752010-09-12T09:54:00.007+10:002010-09-22T13:08:57.476+10:00The good, the bad, and the strangeGood:<br />- Everyone is so friendly and unbelievably helpful here. The cliches about Japanese hospitality and service are well deserved. For example, signs here say "please refrain from continuing past this point" rather than "do not enter."<br />- Little details of refinement, like the fact that they put paving stones under the water of certain rivers and streams, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYG3G3HBpIXDnnscEmy0crEwdIrakC2JIonf_i0fPVXG0clxpurjNkTWgL5z9TVPAZ2URaSZkDGVRrJ_K2-abUNdX2zu5yvXbyMC5UgYsyINrapXJer4-m_YnoZm3vr3jISp3YXJWBRps/s1600/IMG_3924.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYG3G3HBpIXDnnscEmy0crEwdIrakC2JIonf_i0fPVXG0clxpurjNkTWgL5z9TVPAZ2URaSZkDGVRrJ_K2-abUNdX2zu5yvXbyMC5UgYsyINrapXJer4-m_YnoZm3vr3jISp3YXJWBRps/s200/IMG_3924.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515970747783518178" border="0" /></a>so that the water dances and sparkles just so <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB17gXJkJLTJn8pLPX49eEVly7ZlLyH1UtnrTft4_gclag_8lG38qKvPQHKz9_pAN01DffNJtwdGczuC6IH2_-siYpzHHCBuyUNJ1-i_7sTeoyZttmjSmbKDER3Q0TqBuJPOqv0MJ7d0rV/s1600/IMG_3927.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB17gXJkJLTJn8pLPX49eEVly7ZlLyH1UtnrTft4_gclag_8lG38qKvPQHKz9_pAN01DffNJtwdGczuC6IH2_-siYpzHHCBuyUNJ1-i_7sTeoyZttmjSmbKDER3Q0TqBuJPOqv0MJ7d0rV/s200/IMG_3927.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515971273247513922" border="0" /></a>as it flows over them.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtuqzVdEIe4sr30WlWm9igNKvi8VbuQrrS5PD2a63uqv6lATJ3SlL8iBbmSW2rPejyBmtbZmuooQJr0vizWikidooVUad_-aRAADrouQThiwVtS17PVAd6-Yzvv111PLgxCOy4TsDfWcc/s1600/IMG_3923.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtuqzVdEIe4sr30WlWm9igNKvi8VbuQrrS5PD2a63uqv6lATJ3SlL8iBbmSW2rPejyBmtbZmuooQJr0vizWikidooVUad_-aRAADrouQThiwVtS17PVAd6-Yzvv111PLgxCOy4TsDfWcc/s200/IMG_3923.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515970939500118130" border="0" /></a><br />- Graveyards. I know, weird subject. But in my wanderings, I stumbled across a couple of them, and they're extremely beautiful and special. Made up of stone markers, perhaps to house ashes, they have thin wooden boards with writing propped against them, and holders for incense.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuCDQOoqwS6VDYBSpellBexFCNDZkSvuDiOLzyzLVqtZxy1aRkQbDU4spduRkfmqTQTup2u2tK8ctjyTMPeZ-cTgBXPBPqpyV1PWFp_fIvYzkfVvNqnMH_OOnKCm02X3YJpXQscJVUM4d/s1600/IMG_3932.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSuCDQOoqwS6VDYBSpellBexFCNDZkSvuDiOLzyzLVqtZxy1aRkQbDU4spduRkfmqTQTup2u2tK8ctjyTMPeZ-cTgBXPBPqpyV1PWFp_fIvYzkfVvNqnMH_OOnKCm02X3YJpXQscJVUM4d/s320/IMG_3932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515835094816377282" border="0" /></a>When the breeze moves through the space, the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7brk9miY3sB_6p_aU1KlklWcN4N9wmKlGj-xu1fplhTTa2qM2D-Z5NHIkShgANN4n6TkC-_CfT_U6SsC1oVpmwsBiJd75Z_qTZtWo_B59KUQ3mK2vUYRavBrPTIQ-KJInEflKC4XCjtH/s1600/IMG_3936.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7brk9miY3sB_6p_aU1KlklWcN4N9wmKlGj-xu1fplhTTa2qM2D-Z5NHIkShgANN4n6TkC-_CfT_U6SsC1oVpmwsBiJd75Z_qTZtWo_B59KUQ3mK2vUYRavBrPTIQ-KJInEflKC4XCjtH/s320/IMG_3936.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515835415248323522" border="0" /></a>boards rattle gently, and leftover incense wafts by, and I can really believe that the departed ones are still somehow with us.<br /><br />- Ramen. Mmmm, ramen. I want it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.<br /><br /><br />Bad:<br />- Humidity. After two days of simply being hot and rather humid, the weather has turned to complete steam bath. Seriously. Picture the last time you were in the steam room at a spa. Now imagine me wandering around in there, towing my luggage.<br />- Mosquitoes. My coworker Arye and I were wandering and stumbled across a beautiful temple.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZZh9hBWhAjMSly3e6H9BnyGLGcyfYL1SkWUTvIQDMIZPlnvn2vm9iClFk13rChx9o0AlWwyD1_29-zUzzhesZFZXDZF-JfVjFBTLN0ndWwRmaHakc95hHjSItln_P3I3C7YCQJa9IhES/s1600/IMG_3948.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZZh9hBWhAjMSly3e6H9BnyGLGcyfYL1SkWUTvIQDMIZPlnvn2vm9iClFk13rChx9o0AlWwyD1_29-zUzzhesZFZXDZF-JfVjFBTLN0ndWwRmaHakc95hHjSItln_P3I3C7YCQJa9IhES/s320/IMG_3948.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515971646300328338" border="0" /></a><br />We looked at one another and both said "and this is a temple that's <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> on the map! Unfortunately, the prolific use of water that results in the gorgeous moss covering the grounds also breeds mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7zfh67pJ9hKMeeFwC5AA-VdDX_yTBhReV7b4XtmZ1m_Roty1mjXCDGY7WZjh0DgBp1-TgQ6hz5AvxPqZP3-K9qsHTpB2C65MhrWCwbOm6sTC5kD0-LC0PNm-LaHT5pGbcvwRHZ4a3njf/s1600/IMG_3942.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7zfh67pJ9hKMeeFwC5AA-VdDX_yTBhReV7b4XtmZ1m_Roty1mjXCDGY7WZjh0DgBp1-TgQ6hz5AvxPqZP3-K9qsHTpB2C65MhrWCwbOm6sTC5kD0-LC0PNm-LaHT5pGbcvwRHZ4a3njf/s200/IMG_3942.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515972220465768210" border="0" /></a><br />Arye didn't get a single bite, but I'm covered in welts that still itch three days later! (I'd rather think it was the hummingbirds, I mean mosquitoes, than the possibility that I've picked up bedbugs. Our hotel for this first part of the stay is extremely clean and nice, but I live in fear...)<br /><br />Weird:<br />- Cat cafe. You can sit and have a waffle while also getting some feline therapy. Picture a room full of (young) people, not just girls, eating, smoking, drinking, and petting the cats that the restaurant supplies. Maybe there's a lot of apartments that are too small for even a cat? Maybe everyone just works too much to have a full time pet?<br />- <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okonomiyaki">Okonomiyaki</a>. We went out for dinner the other night, and wandered into a place because it was filled with locals. Turns out this is a specialty of Osaka. Basically a pancake made of shredded cabbage, with a very gently warmed egg in the center, it is then buried under a sauce of thickened Worcestershire and mayonnaise. A lot of other folks liked it, but I thought it was one of the most disgusting things I've ever eater. Of course, since then, finding food has become more of a challenge because it turns out Okonomiyaki is one of the main treats people come to Kyoto to enjoy!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-57198820864766965832010-09-09T17:02:00.003+10:002010-09-22T13:08:17.570+10:00Logistical Difficulties<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFufjXu2AHEp3wWPafFKtWBhtCm3kTgTWy3ySd1gvoziYekIYsmdT_AsRHe_zIrqlA_2IB15dn9up7qcHRxnO9KvrahWTzNr60C1W3lcIDNefqtwDPvNk-oqN6muXCT5pHNZcD8dPf5fX/s1600/IMG_4117.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFufjXu2AHEp3wWPafFKtWBhtCm3kTgTWy3ySd1gvoziYekIYsmdT_AsRHe_zIrqlA_2IB15dn9up7qcHRxnO9KvrahWTzNr60C1W3lcIDNefqtwDPvNk-oqN6muXCT5pHNZcD8dPf5fX/s320/IMG_4117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519568971361982066" border="0" /></a><br />The reason I came to Japan this week (as opposed to at a later, hopefully more well-funded time in my life) is because my company is exhibiting at a trade show. Which is pretty cool, since as far as convention towns go, Kyoto is definitely one of the more interesting and exotic.<br /><br />However, I have now discovered exactly how much of a pain in the ass it is to try and pull off a tradeshow exhibit 1/3 of the way around the world. Almost every single thing that could have gone wrong, did. I did make my flight. However a significant portion of our exhibition materials did not. So I spent my first 24 hours here running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to find a workable substitute.<br /><br />Turns out, despite the fact that every single restaurant, and nearly every business here has a sign out front propped up on an easel, I couldn't find a single person who knows where to print a sign <span style="font-style: italic;">or</span> buy an easel. I did get to wander around for several hours in the rain with my coworker though, looking for obscure objects like a 3-prong to 2-prong plug converter, or a large glass bowl.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOgQBlaDS6buRkI78_d9NTfQhB1iAJXC1SsxQPfE3jSQ_9DnN4a6Bgg8txuS8NCjKdoKdDYUlMEGjq3DOtvZxbJf9scT9__DyRC0rGmOZPkCJ5SUyn8DtGV07_jkUyGHL0dYA1bfoJJZl/s1600/IMG_3914.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijOgQBlaDS6buRkI78_d9NTfQhB1iAJXC1SsxQPfE3jSQ_9DnN4a6Bgg8txuS8NCjKdoKdDYUlMEGjq3DOtvZxbJf9scT9__DyRC0rGmOZPkCJ5SUyn8DtGV07_jkUyGHL0dYA1bfoJJZl/s320/IMG_3914.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519567765008756914" border="0" /></a><br />And during that process, I actually had a wonderful time! There was the moment when we wandered into a Starbucks in desperation, needing something to ward off the caffeine headache, and then wandered out the other side the atrium of the swanky modern mall into a large temple compound, utterly serene, where water comes pouring out of the base of the building.<br /><br />There was the "citron" shaved ice I grabbed in the food market, because I was completely parched, and that was the only one I could make myself understood well enough to order. It was a wonderfully flavorful combination of lemon juice and lemon rind. Exactly what I always hope lemonade is going to be, and never is.<br /><br />There was the bowl of ramen I ordered by pointing to a picture on a menu when I was so jetlagged I couldn't remember my own name. So rich and restorative, and the team working in the restaurant was unbelievably cheerful, which made me smile too. (Of course, they might have been shouting insults at one another and all the customers, but I choose to believe they weren't.) <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span><br /><br />And last night, there was the restaurant we wandered into when we finally gave up on finding the restaurant we'd read about in my Lonely Planet guide. A tiny restaurant, with posters of Bob Marley playing soccer, and Sean Conery as Bond on the wall, where we smiled at the waiter/bartender/chef a lot and he smiled back a lot and we all nodded our heads a lot, and somehow that combination resulted in us getting served food. Quite yummy food at that!<br /><br />Japan had somehow never been particularly high on my list of places to visit. Outcompeted by Chile, Iceland, and Bora Bora, even by the Gobi desert, I had placed it firmly in the "for some day" category. But my experience so far is rapidly changing that. This is one of the few places I've ever traveled where it's both totally foreign, and yet so comfortable I feel brave enough to chuck the guidebook and just see where my nose takes me. It's invariably going to be someplace interesting.<br /><br />Now, can someone please explain the adorable little racoon statues I see at the entrance to people's yards? They're cute, but why do they have both breasts and large testicles?<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5519563544140521665%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCPeq_aPB7Z7fowE%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="288" height="192"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-57144930077460972722010-08-18T07:31:00.002+10:002010-08-18T11:01:23.744+10:00Long pausesMore than anything, this blog was started as a travel diary. A way of keeping family and friends updated when I was living far away, and we were all too cheap or lazy to go buy phone cards. Plus, I could add pictures!<br /><br />But what should I do when I'm not far away? When I'm right here, not going anywhere, for long periods at a time? When I'm stuck in the routine of work, dreaming of more travel adventures, but unable to convert them to reality?<br /><br />Go silent for a year and a half, that's what!<br /><br />However, I've got a big trip planned. After all this time, it's only just that I'm going because of work. So stay tuned. Kyoto here I come!<br /><br />And if you have any recommendations... please enlighten me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-3042204332487101762009-04-10T11:35:00.008+10:002009-04-10T11:49:03.952+10:00More photos of VietnamI'm stealing photos from my friend Kyle, since I thought they were so awesome.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18karmRnLHvj3_Luewg30sW4owYm6M0RTqnqghMmZlO2Ou2I9WVZM8qVIco9mcFfbVTpV6drNWZdaUEDKddz5x_CTwJ6HcsUcl5PwHIKLUJbTA7FAa5EydZlPHgWHjAqCXDyxBugKNsSV/s1600-h/P3300027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18karmRnLHvj3_Luewg30sW4owYm6M0RTqnqghMmZlO2Ou2I9WVZM8qVIco9mcFfbVTpV6drNWZdaUEDKddz5x_CTwJ6HcsUcl5PwHIKLUJbTA7FAa5EydZlPHgWHjAqCXDyxBugKNsSV/s200/P3300027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322871201710270850" border="0" /></a>My sister Naomi collects hats from throughout the world. The more outrageous the better, but it has to be something the people actually wear. I was tempted to bring her back a motorcycle helmet, but I resisted. Instead, I spotted the wonderfully embroidered head scarves that the women of the Black Thai ethnic minorities wear. I tried to ask one lady where I might buy one, and this is what happened:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnQM9ybxxBGWQCZ1sUjmOIoJ0QCnjnB0M9xYA17VumOLqK7T0XNoR2fYv5V16efHmD4gufcnyVz7C3IG4PtGyg6riXaibtrE1odlwkwIsGWHEL-s-krJc4UwpQfrk0KYseoZNMu57sVtB/s1600-h/P3300023.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnQM9ybxxBGWQCZ1sUjmOIoJ0QCnjnB0M9xYA17VumOLqK7T0XNoR2fYv5V16efHmD4gufcnyVz7C3IG4PtGyg6riXaibtrE1odlwkwIsGWHEL-s-krJc4UwpQfrk0KYseoZNMu57sVtB/s320/P3300023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322871058087459858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl6xWvy7kSPQCvq93txnL-xXywJo4P6qHCmJQ8XDUArG6yGNasxfK9cVfa4XZ_oXCe5IuSgjMhqbgfnOWglljGjRGTJVna6z5qCg8eeewScc2b4ODL36JptWXhDeZZRggSWw-0kNxZNpF/s1600-h/P4010057.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyl6xWvy7kSPQCvq93txnL-xXywJo4P6qHCmJQ8XDUArG6yGNasxfK9cVfa4XZ_oXCe5IuSgjMhqbgfnOWglljGjRGTJVna6z5qCg8eeewScc2b4ODL36JptWXhDeZZRggSWw-0kNxZNpF/s320/P4010057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322871433344415650" border="0" /></a><br /><br />These women are fabulously colorful in their costumes.<br /><br />Inspired by their splendor, I took the opportunity, since I was in a place with a) cheap tailoring and b) fabulous silks to order an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Aodai&oldid=278224338">ao dai</a>, although nothing so fabulous as <a href="http://www.geocities.com/trinagallery/aodai.html">this</a>. Again, the language proved a barrier, but this time I didn't wind up with anything extra. I suck at bargaining. Still, it fits really nicely, and now I'm trying to figure out an occasion to wear it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r3_YfKWBCDZuTMYUUBWUXUBRRyRVtCY0d1kMFeZxfkV5_C5RL55V2nWvBpkEARaz09K05wXNFLnIy-o7s1LAq2oGkXWt2v7aSDWKv91xdnbCc4t79nxwfJOLaeiRMJXGmn0RF5BnfSkT/s1600-h/P3290006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r3_YfKWBCDZuTMYUUBWUXUBRRyRVtCY0d1kMFeZxfkV5_C5RL55V2nWvBpkEARaz09K05wXNFLnIy-o7s1LAq2oGkXWt2v7aSDWKv91xdnbCc4t79nxwfJOLaeiRMJXGmn0RF5BnfSkT/s200/P3290006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322872601275774930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Maybe when I graduate, which is all too soon.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-46216337975948478182009-03-31T23:56:00.015+11:002009-04-10T11:49:41.295+10:00Report from Vietnam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Qf8kW1dY5iguOQ95aF7czgugB7M3G4AxIRhA0R6xlMG9bzXMcxLIERC8aSinrDrNE3G1iU-2XjxMK6jGrV3PmscYD8u5Gm7i4h6Hpo85bVQPOomiLQnMLonpuDxKjXmFh9sPTLsVoMG9/s1600-h/P4010038.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Qf8kW1dY5iguOQ95aF7czgugB7M3G4AxIRhA0R6xlMG9bzXMcxLIERC8aSinrDrNE3G1iU-2XjxMK6jGrV3PmscYD8u5Gm7i4h6Hpo85bVQPOomiLQnMLonpuDxKjXmFh9sPTLsVoMG9/s320/P4010038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322873957272938066" border="0" /></a><br />Since coming to Vietnam, I've mostly been posting little snapshots. That's not really accurate, since I forgot the cable that connects my camera to my computer, and haven't been able to upload any photos. But I haven't felt like the trip was worth my usual exhaustive blow-by-blow. And also, until now I've been struggling a bit. This is definitely the most ambitious travel experience I've tackled to date. Still, here's a quick update on the trip so far... [Photos are now up!]<br /><br />On Thursday morning my colleague Matt Craig and I showed up in Hanoi. We checked in to our hotel in the old quarter, <a href="http://sunshinehotel.com.vn/sunshine3hotel/index.htm">Sunshine 3</a>, and then wandered out to find a bite to eat and arrange our trip to Ha Long Bay. Through <a href="http://www.handspan.com/default.asp?opt=tour&cId=48&tId=87">Handspan</a>, we booked 2 days and 1 night on the Lagoon Explorer <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq2BoAcbXeN43roXP_1GHxWAsV8mtIwwvvP0vQnDvnEKNwJG7VbqpOIDZvIFAVVR6YFpB9VeEG3ypuE-PW7P-DoO7BKpi2_jP5cSnceA5GjuXdZUgENLYVa4hC39cidEl0OPdiO3erwI0/s1600-h/IMG_2354.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq2BoAcbXeN43roXP_1GHxWAsV8mtIwwvvP0vQnDvnEKNwJG7VbqpOIDZvIFAVVR6YFpB9VeEG3ypuE-PW7P-DoO7BKpi2_jP5cSnceA5GjuXdZUgENLYVa4hC39cidEl0OPdiO3erwI0/s200/IMG_2354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322862515449505074" border="0" /></a>junk boat. Then we tried our first bowl of Pho, and staggered back to the hotel for a nap. I did manage to drag myself out of bed later, despite the jet lag, and took a walk around Hoan Kiem Lake. We sat in a cafe for a bit, having a wonderfully delirious conversation about life, love and the pursuit of happiness, fueled by my first brush with the ridiculously strong Vietnamese coffee, which is "cut" with sweetened condensed milk. Later that night we headed to the one Indian <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivGClUXeAWShMnn2MZD08tV-O-sBvMcmYr5HIv7cpJ_kwSt67nVlMNB_zZSGTLAgNEGp0NJxk6tBoObbaEEuzPQn7taAI3EvgrY-6dBNvB_rhNLSPYqojWxppDfaF-klgHJXNKMHDBA58/s1600-h/IMG_2368.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivGClUXeAWShMnn2MZD08tV-O-sBvMcmYr5HIv7cpJ_kwSt67nVlMNB_zZSGTLAgNEGp0NJxk6tBoObbaEEuzPQn7taAI3EvgrY-6dBNvB_rhNLSPYqojWxppDfaF-klgHJXNKMHDBA58/s200/IMG_2368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322862070913131202" border="0" /></a>restaurant in the old quarter, which we had been commended to by the professor at UCLA from whom I hope to take Intro to Classic Indian Dance this quarter. She had been told there is a mural of her at that restaurant, and wanted photographic proof. The masala dosa was actually really good, which perhaps explains why the place was filled with Indian tourists.<br /><br />The next day we woke early and boarded the bus to Ha Long. On the bus we met Jean Luc and Fiona, a French-Scottish couple in their late sixties who very much impressed me with their travel stories. They take upwards of four big trips a year, and have been to some amazing corners of the world. The more remote the better it seems. They've been hiking in northern Pakistan 5 or 6 times, without a guide, and were raving about southern Yemen. (Never mind the civil war.) Someday I'd like to grow up and be like them.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5322103197434952705%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="267" width="400"></embed><br /><br /><br />We had a pleasant trip on Ha Long Bay. We lucked out and had nice weather, and although it <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQPyD4AlNrjjjEc_W37aBIUFIfP_0fDyzzhRlsNHMlBNYuzG-naLOfjNHkb88iefbussH37K7Bo8eM4dIRKbZWG3igpip4bLNBTZDg7jbnSAanPpjHrEMLH8bX-IwP5CQg3zEV02OoP2X/s1600-h/IMG_2422.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQPyD4AlNrjjjEc_W37aBIUFIfP_0fDyzzhRlsNHMlBNYuzG-naLOfjNHkb88iefbussH37K7Bo8eM4dIRKbZWG3igpip4bLNBTZDg7jbnSAanPpjHrEMLH8bX-IwP5CQg3zEV02OoP2X/s200/IMG_2422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322863453894328946" border="0" /></a>was extremely touristy, our boat sailed further east than most and so we weren't completely in the thick of the traffic. The food we ate was very good, and the sculptures the chef decorated the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYSmF-mpQuJj3712WEDErhRXFlszBm1KFohDgSjmkJsTd6MYM1UXfyE1zAHQXIqmzxKha9sWu9m_47ZR1wGO5kRZsoFiN6uvW8rrkwSkWp08LzeCO1SX0Gayd_ZwZKMRGGbU4nCwfXNav/s1600-h/IMG_2467.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYSmF-mpQuJj3712WEDErhRXFlszBm1KFohDgSjmkJsTd6MYM1UXfyE1zAHQXIqmzxKha9sWu9m_47ZR1wGO5kRZsoFiN6uvW8rrkwSkWp08LzeCO1SX0Gayd_ZwZKMRGGbU4nCwfXNav/s200/IMG_2467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322863139524075586" border="0" /></a>plates with were a marvel of engineering. I can't wait to get my photos up. We stopped and visited a limestone cave on one of the islands, and had a quick kayak. We also toured a floating village, by which I mean I sat there and let a woman about half my size paddle me past all the houses while I stared in and the inhabitants stared back. I was most impressed by the little floating dog houses.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JX6KGh1LkR_mF92ghcdR5YPxa_PZPmhRxZHV8nkNXQdwfbqq74Klr7GhvY7QHBKDF42-mGoGzI_Nijwm77rvRVegrqajBJlxzbFbgSeHm9wj2_PRVjj9QpoqwgZZYn22Y9Ocw0SZ6osh/s1600-h/IMG_2506.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JX6KGh1LkR_mF92ghcdR5YPxa_PZPmhRxZHV8nkNXQdwfbqq74Klr7GhvY7QHBKDF42-mGoGzI_Nijwm77rvRVegrqajBJlxzbFbgSeHm9wj2_PRVjj9QpoqwgZZYn22Y9Ocw0SZ6osh/s200/IMG_2506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322863979433579874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Upon our return to Hanoi, we met up with Nathalie, the American woman who started the organization that is our client, <a href="http://www.chi-em.org/">Chi Em</a>. Nathalie is wrapping up her time in Vietnam, so the organization is now being run by the extremely capable Thanh. Nathalie is heading back to Berkeley, so I had to ask her if she knew Abby Falik, and her work with <a href="http://globalcitizenyear.org/">Global Citizen Year</a>. Berkeley is a very small world, as is the world of international NGO folk.<br /><br />[A note on pronunciation - I am discovering that any word that ends in "nh" actually indicates an "ng" sound. So Thanh is said "Tang", and our translators Linh and Minh are really "Ling and Ming". Which suggests that my entire life I have been massacring the pronunciation of the name of the father of this nation. Also, "d" is often "z". So the traditional costume that I ordered at the tailor would never have been achieved if Nathalie hadn't told me that an Ao Dai is really an "ow zai". We have also been introduced to the very useful expression of "oi, gioi oi!" (There are a bunch of accents missing there that this blog program does not seem able to handle.) Roughly translated as "oh god", it sounds like "oy zoy oy", and has the same intonation and expressiveness as a really satisfying "oy vey!"]<br /><br />Dinner with Nathalie (at <a href="http://www.highway4.com/">Highway 4</a>) marked the start of the work portion of the trip, as we began to get exposed to all the details of Chi Em's work that we hadn't yet understood. I'll keep it short and say simply that Vietnam is very interested in foreign direct investment, and in having international NGOs be active here. In theory. In reality, any work is constrained by a very rigid and hierarchical bureaucracy in the best situations, and extreme corruption in the worst. It <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqOTjbqvx7g4Lfr7zqEJZ8j_5PGTMjHRX8mdbip2pv5VxDj3drzp5LrJuaF4WaHFQkEcFcI53_oCqei7keh22LkXzQxBQE5okaF9-k9UKFz0oUKxcfXzta0ne0WbEKlt16Rpib9BR7jz1/s1600-h/IMG_2679.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqOTjbqvx7g4Lfr7zqEJZ8j_5PGTMjHRX8mdbip2pv5VxDj3drzp5LrJuaF4WaHFQkEcFcI53_oCqei7keh22LkXzQxBQE5okaF9-k9UKFz0oUKxcfXzta0ne0WbEKlt16Rpib9BR7jz1/s200/IMG_2679.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322865586769447938" border="0" /></a>makes trying to create and implement programs here extremely difficult.<br /><br /><br />Especially if you are a bunch of naive and inexperienced business school students. On the one hand, it's been amazing how much we've learned, and I'm excited about the possibilities for us to make a difference. On the other hand, I'm having to fight the urge to throw my hands up in defeat and run back to the classroom where at least the case discussions are confined to a 15-page packet plus exhibits.<br /><br />Since Monday we've been working in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Dien_Bien_Province&oldid=274514000">Dien Bien</a>, the province where Chi Em is active. We're staying in a guest house in Dien Bien Phu, the capital city. Both the guest house and the city are a bit bleak. I've never been in a place less set up for tourism. There are literally no restaurants that have menus, and very few hotels. Still, the rice paddies are very beautiful, as are the hills around the city, when the moisture in the air clears enough to afford us a view. This is a very misty place.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLYoGozChMoHweE6y_1QtlgNTH_nT04YU8bIz_Cr7oWG2bT1By_2oRjPLhQEVmXu8yKDUxuhTRUYD5ot_2rqNqnOxmL9sP24IKkvtKDDWTDRJEMwhaisI2x2YDG3n6EH7YXjnyqRYoAtE/s1600-h/IMG_2601.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLYoGozChMoHweE6y_1QtlgNTH_nT04YU8bIz_Cr7oWG2bT1By_2oRjPLhQEVmXu8yKDUxuhTRUYD5ot_2rqNqnOxmL9sP24IKkvtKDDWTDRJEMwhaisI2x2YDG3n6EH7YXjnyqRYoAtE/s320/IMG_2601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322864317028901538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Actually, this is a very wet place. The fields of rice are shockingly green, and this is the dry season! And last night, just as I was falling asleep, a storm rolled in. The rain was so heavy and so loud it sounded like a freight train was passing through. It even drowned out the thunderclaps. Very impressive.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5322790319507369857%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="267" width="400"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-66231964669277075282009-03-31T21:26:00.004+11:002009-04-10T11:52:41.002+10:00Transportation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfpMx_ozwy2ILAPPcl4WQfvG76uKIWNRnkVhC_bAyh5bFlg7xZwp_kPyGC8NpIAO0qSfTZON5T20jrW0naJxzpDRBGd6yOcb0lSAk3J_DTEqQfVDIXX2ox2NnhTRqDVov2-araduB0m_2/s1600-h/P3290018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfpMx_ozwy2ILAPPcl4WQfvG76uKIWNRnkVhC_bAyh5bFlg7xZwp_kPyGC8NpIAO0qSfTZON5T20jrW0naJxzpDRBGd6yOcb0lSAk3J_DTEqQfVDIXX2ox2NnhTRqDVov2-araduB0m_2/s200/P3290018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322874144779318514" border="0" /></a><br />Things I have seen on the backs of bicycles and motos on this extended adventure...<br /><br />On a bicycle:<br />1) A rocking chair<br />2) A dining room table<br />3) A 30 lb. sack of cement. This wasn't actually on the back of the bicycle, but rather on the back of the gentleman riding it. Not tied on or secured in any way, it was simply draped on his back and over one shoulder. He had this look of intense concentration on his face, and I couldn't tell if it was due to the weight or his prayers that the damn thing wouldn't slide off.<br /><br />On a scooter:<br />4) A family of 4<br />5) A huge pile of baskets, a tall stack of eggs, or a large cage full of chickens<br />6) A cat. Actually, the cat wasn't riding the scooter, but since most folks park their scooters in their living rooms (all the buildings have built-in scooter ramps over part of their front steps), I have seen several family pets staring out at the street from their perch on the seat of the scooter.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0BMyIVAR2DuYpTZFrC6gFGviscQE5e7sQLNwhD8sdaL5zP2dUqH4fkH0vENeECWzptr89cZesK9EzSn-H2RnhZvlt9D9mWuZZ9iEc5PTbqyK8IrJomruGdX_bWkU56W0g7ipCC4B5cBC/s1600-h/IMG_2589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0BMyIVAR2DuYpTZFrC6gFGviscQE5e7sQLNwhD8sdaL5zP2dUqH4fkH0vENeECWzptr89cZesK9EzSn-H2RnhZvlt9D9mWuZZ9iEc5PTbqyK8IrJomruGdX_bWkU56W0g7ipCC4B5cBC/s320/IMG_2589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322874615752603554" border="0" /></a><br />7) A flat screen TV. No kidding. I was dying laughing, watching a full grown man with his legs dangling off the back of his friends moto, clutching a 52" flatscreen between himself and the driver, as the driver wobbled across four lanes of screeching traffic, all of which was honking and gunning for the juicy new target in their path.<br /><br />My sister Naomi collects traditional hats and headgear from all over the world. I'm tempted to bring her a helmet, since that's by far the most ubiquitous.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96NAfuCYsrZYUmWVapBtsk_yR4zjPBdKF33pWSt1I7zD_lhbZ00idDvXYLFkgZkCTkFHQWy6AsKlenVEglSxG585oAmWtJDK8nTHWSdaOYhbX9Mxx0LVLBZuQ2-ozb-S8fA_rz2gSCPJF/s1600-h/IMG_2794.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96NAfuCYsrZYUmWVapBtsk_yR4zjPBdKF33pWSt1I7zD_lhbZ00idDvXYLFkgZkCTkFHQWy6AsKlenVEglSxG585oAmWtJDK8nTHWSdaOYhbX9Mxx0LVLBZuQ2-ozb-S8fA_rz2gSCPJF/s320/IMG_2794.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322874404863501922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />P.S. Thanks to Kevin Armstrong for supplying the following link to some spectacular examples of bicycle transport.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.treehugger.com/galleries/2009/03/extraordinary-loads-on-ordinary-bikes.php" target="_blank">http://www.treehugger.com/<wbr>galleries/2009/03/<wbr>extraordinary-loads-on-<wbr>ordinary-bikes.php</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-76565339018966452422009-03-31T00:11:00.003+11:002009-03-31T00:21:40.135+11:00jet lagThis is by far the largest time change I've ever put myself through. And I have to say the worst part of the jet lag is how insidious it is. 5 days into my trip, I still don't feel close to normal. I haven't had any sleepless nights yet, but I hear that's what I can look forward to upon my return. Can't wait. <br /><br />Right this very moment, my teammate Kyle, who only arrived yesterday, is sprawled out on two very uncomfortable chairs in the Chi Em program office, completely delirious. It's been pretty funny watching her valiantly struggle through it though. Yesterday we dragged her to Hoa Lo prison (aka the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Hanoi_Hilton&oldid=279699331">Hanoi Hilton</a>). She got separated from the group for a few minutes, and then wandered back in declaring pathetically "I was just lost and alone in a Vietnamese Prison." I think everyone has fears of getting tossed into some crazy third world prison, but in her delirium yesterday, Kyle sort of achieved it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-87188440421934348642009-03-30T23:54:00.004+11:002009-03-31T00:10:49.109+11:00First impressions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWfUmvOn8Y09xtRr3Aquhwp859QnIblfdOMIHNnj_vSiciQFrvUApsUBvfyC8u-5L2x0Nunh43ttjm13yFtDN_HeTxfburplCfK-WaILt6PkrXRVW7G4odcKwKvSD_AbVHJebgZp9ajud/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWfUmvOn8Y09xtRr3Aquhwp859QnIblfdOMIHNnj_vSiciQFrvUApsUBvfyC8u-5L2x0Nunh43ttjm13yFtDN_HeTxfburplCfK-WaILt6PkrXRVW7G4odcKwKvSD_AbVHJebgZp9ajud/s200/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318967540012772866" border="0" /></a><br />The first thing I noticed as the plane was on final approach was the rice paddies. Extremely green, almost fluorescently so, they come right up to the edge of the runway. Hanoi is relatively spread out. And interspersed between the neighborhoods are the rice paddies. I like to imagine they're communal, and that the city can feed itself off its green spaces.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-26964700189151075182009-03-26T23:26:00.007+11:002009-04-08T09:46:30.050+10:00SB2K9 - NicaraguaI’m in transit now, sitting in the airport in Taipei, waiting for our flight to Hanoi, and scrambling to record the highlights of my week in Nicaragua before it all fades. In the last fifteen hours I just survived the longest single plane flight of my life. At least, that I recall. When I was five, my family traveled from Montreal to Israel, but at that point I was young enough to be a) able to stretch out on the floor in front of my parents’ seats and sleep and b) very impressed by the desserts served on Swiss Air. The chocolate mousse came in a cup made of chocolate! But I digress…<br /><br />I left LA at half-past midnight on March 16. We landed first in Houston, where I ignored the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9h8ScSrL1RuF4tZ7ryST3lw3pVhbq7i9160-IqTPFeD1tXjSxYYrg8gSoMQFFh7BGQvdJUL0mJLsIjwaC7BefO9GdUfC19gLusfhWRfszpjwTIAMWGrwWh3W3i4uuh4l-6Ws_Wip1Gqf/s1600-h/IMG_2265.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9h8ScSrL1RuF4tZ7ryST3lw3pVhbq7i9160-IqTPFeD1tXjSxYYrg8gSoMQFFh7BGQvdJUL0mJLsIjwaC7BefO9GdUfC19gLusfhWRfszpjwTIAMWGrwWh3W3i4uuh4l-6Ws_Wip1Gqf/s200/IMG_2265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322099097196481394" border="0" /></a>many options for spending money in favor of catching an extra hour of sleep on the airport floor. Then we had another three hour flight to Managua, followed by a little hop on a puddle jumper (which was neither pressurized nor air conditioned, much to my dismay), through Bluefields to Corn Island. Needless to say, I was very travel weary when we arrived. But Elvis picked us up in his big pickup truck, and I was somewhat revived by the sight of my friends clambering into the back of the truck to sit on the sides, and get into the true spirit of island life right away. The first <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuGoQ8B2RGDOJqAZGH3UeDnVfxEF-k2BoHhiXiC7NmxQ76b_jmlqDQfWq9jJAKc0F-L2nDUJJG03PbGyf6xJ97bRkyHuoZoSbD9pEa0NM0jR0snR2bYOAzz427nnEmMXCoJCZdlkkkXZZ/s1600-h/100px-FlorDeCanaGrandReserve7YR-LR.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 58px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuGoQ8B2RGDOJqAZGH3UeDnVfxEF-k2BoHhiXiC7NmxQ76b_jmlqDQfWq9jJAKc0F-L2nDUJJG03PbGyf6xJ97bRkyHuoZoSbD9pEa0NM0jR0snR2bYOAzz427nnEmMXCoJCZdlkkkXZZ/s200/100px-FlorDeCanaGrandReserve7YR-LR.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317477081599687682" border="0" /></a>night we stayed at<a href="http://web.tiscali.it/laprincesa/"> La Princesa de la Isla</a>, a pretty little hotel run by an Italian couple, located out on a point, accessible only after a walk or a drive down the beach (hence Elvis, and his four-wheel drive). The spot is extremely picturesque, and the ocean breezes keep the heat and the bugs down. We dropped off our stuff, and then headed into town, looking for the first of many Toña beers we were to consume. We walked around the tiny little “downtown” of Corn Island as the sun set and then made our way back to a fabulous (but expensive, we later discovered) meal at our hotel. We ended the night about as you’d expect, sitting in hammock chairs on the beach, drinking <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNk8a42Ki9H3R84OHRfcAFaVUFGLQHqL-bwMKZUD40ZsqUIJ27nt7AeHCASNl7pzHjext5gIctfyQg0UcVDkxJ9MMHoMQ_z3fF6VbwRkn2Q6B_YL-hiAcaKrRqwD9qldzMmTWc2EaaL3z/s1600-h/IMG_2272.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNk8a42Ki9H3R84OHRfcAFaVUFGLQHqL-bwMKZUD40ZsqUIJ27nt7AeHCASNl7pzHjext5gIctfyQg0UcVDkxJ9MMHoMQ_z3fF6VbwRkn2Q6B_YL-hiAcaKrRqwD9qldzMmTWc2EaaL3z/s200/IMG_2272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322099255269895842" border="0" /></a>beers, and Flor de Caña rum straight from the bottle. But don’t worry; we didn’t finish the whole bottle (at least not the first night).<br /><br />The next day, we got a ride from Elvis back down the beach, through town, which consists of the typical tropical third world tin-roofed concrete structures, painted in bright colors, with ruthlessly clean front porches, a hammock, and some sort of dog sprawled out resting in the shade. We got to the Nautilus Dive shop and met the proprietor, Roland, and the dive master Julien, who would be taking us down. We also met Baldur, a German dude who was coming along on our dive, and who we would later discover had an amazing talent to bump into absolutely everyone while under water.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Nn3Q7YIBVt3CqPvhgGGcHMtTN8-yb_sSlol-Jj7o8bqQH_xttbAttgN9GTqzpjXfr_1vi0VVdt70-cNFLFbIzlexAQe5mhhMU_Z8rsSyZCqzwAn_LGMdwvuPYci9-xH83yVOk3So-oxq/s1600-h/Fish-Trumpet-02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Nn3Q7YIBVt3CqPvhgGGcHMtTN8-yb_sSlol-Jj7o8bqQH_xttbAttgN9GTqzpjXfr_1vi0VVdt70-cNFLFbIzlexAQe5mhhMU_Z8rsSyZCqzwAn_LGMdwvuPYci9-xH83yVOk3So-oxq/s200/Fish-Trumpet-02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317473504219277074" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our first day of diving was nice. We did a dive at a site called Black Coral, and I think I spotted the thing for which it’s named. I saw some fish, some of them colorful, including a very large grouper that was shepherding a school of smaller fish, perhaps for safety, perhaps as a later meal. After a surface interval back on shore, we headed out to La Chimita, where I saw a strange and wonderful looking beast called a trumpet fish, and a nurse shark. Mostly, though I just enjoyed being back under water, and the feeling of weightlessness as the mild current washed us along.<br /><br />None of us were blown away by that day’s diving though, so we were wondering if perhaps we’d made a mistake not making the trip over to Little Corn Island, where the reef is supposed to be in better shape. We certainly couldn’t understand why National Geographic had rated the place 9 out of 10 for diving. Our dive master heard us discussing what to do, and told us, emphatically, that if we wanted world class diving what we really needed to arrange was a trip out to Blowing Rock. So when we headed back to shore, that’s what we did. Then we dragged our waterlogged and famished selves down the road to the Fisher Cave for some lunch. That’s where we discovered that nothing related to food happens quickly on Corn Island (or in Nicaragua in general). Still, we had fun sitting out on the patio by the municipal docks, drinking beers or in my case grape Fanta. Eventually, our food came, with wonderfully yummy papas and for me a whole fish smothered in garlic. Mmm… It was worth the glares we got from the Italian woman at the hotel where we’d left our stuff all day when we finally wandered back in around 4pm. La Princessa was supposedly full that night, so we moved on to Carrie Morgan’s guest house, on the other side of town.<br /><br />The most interesting thing about Morgan’s Hotel was that they’ve chosen to lease out the waterfront across the road from them to some sort of church, which holds open-air services every night. So every night, at around 5:30, they start testing the PA system, and blasting some pretty interesting country versions of Amazing Grace and other traditional spirituals. And then around 7 they settle in for a 2 hour service that is held partly in English, partly in Spanish, and partly in some local Caribbean patois that has a lovely flow to it. This made it all the more interesting, as we sat on the grass outside our hotel drinking the next bottle of rum, when we realized that the sermon was about <a href="http://www.t-pain.net/">T-Pain</a>. “Now <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T-pain">T-Pain</a> was a fallen mon, hear? But Jesus, he loves him too.”<br /><br />The next day, we were a little late for our dive appointment due to the very friendly breakfast served to us by Ike. Ike runs a hotel a little down the road from Morgan’s, and is one of those wonderful, gregarious characters that is truly able to make you feel like you belong. He’s a serial entrepreneur, and over our breakfast of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Gallo_pinto&oldid=276086022">gallo pinto</a> and scrambled eggs, we learned a bit about the many businesses he runs on the island, while also working for a solar power storage company. I guess in a place as sunny as Corn the problem isn’t generating the power, it’s storing in long enough and stably enough to convince people to come off the grid. We eventually tore ourselves away, and wandered on to our date with <a href="http://www.travbuddy.com/travel-blogs/6675/Diving-Blowing-Rock-Corn-Island-16">Blowing Rock</a>.<br /><br /><br />As best as I could tell, Blowing Rock is a mini volcano that rises from the sea floor about nine km off the coast of Big Corn. It stretches from the ocean floor to the surface about 100 feet up, and attracts all sorts of marine life, large and small. The surface is fairly choppy, so we had to do a “negative entry”. This basically involves making sure there’s no air in your BCD (Boyancy Control Device – the vest you wear that everything is strapped to), and throwing yourself backwards off the boat in a nice little cannon ball, hanging on to your mask and regulator so they don’t come dislodged with the violence of your entry. And then letting yourself sink as the bubbles clear and the boat pulls away, and rendezvousing with your group a couple meters below the surface. I would have been terrified, except that as soon as the bubbles cleared I realized the water was so clear the visibility was well over 100 feet. And all the surface chop faded to a very gentle washing back and forth, just enough to rock you, but nowhere near the drag-me-off-the-rock-into-the-very-large-very-empty-ocean sort of current I has anticipated. It was like getting dropped into the world’s biggest, cleanest, best stocked aquarium, and was one of the best dives I’ve ever done. The <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMa3cErhsHzmkU-v882PSCrzyQBsvCp3OLoro7vJlAGR3JtyMjWLKtSstNJTz-HcDrAUh-0bv_P-bLbAHLIPK_hz5XdPf-2ZcXyjS5txt4LnSP5h2NSNkte-A_TTkY6VAqCrzWgiqO-HB9/s1600-h/spotted_eagle_ray.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMa3cErhsHzmkU-v882PSCrzyQBsvCp3OLoro7vJlAGR3JtyMjWLKtSstNJTz-HcDrAUh-0bv_P-bLbAHLIPK_hz5XdPf-2ZcXyjS5txt4LnSP5h2NSNkte-A_TTkY6VAqCrzWgiqO-HB9/s320/spotted_eagle_ray.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317476132358011922" border="0" /></a>first dive we saw a nurse shark and two gray reef sharks, as well as all sorts of fish including many barracuda. We also saw a bunch of very large, very colorful lobster for which that coast in famous. It’s the off-season for lobstering right now, so they were feeling pretty safe and hanging out right in the open. Right at the end, we also saw two massive spotted eagle rays, very majestically fanning along in perfect unison, trailing their long tails. It was unbelievable. After a surface interval during which I got very seasick, between the chop and the smell of the boat’s diesel fuel, we dropped in again for a second look.<br /><br />The highlight of that dive, besides more successfully avoiding the German’s tendency towards collision, was seeing a school (flock?) of 7 or 8 large rays off in the distance. They were too far away to see their colors, but just the graceful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW4pSKhBkHXbMEsLLppV_MS0XEsbjOo5OnaqFxJ7ygeunvADhw75Cfo5Nwe19ql03ANctkLUgxsndsGFOruKWPOf0_xaYYq-C3fAvlwlvMF9dSpRx0ILXNSp6IFWexfsEr0Ac_V-Zsbv56/s1600-h/IMG_2267.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW4pSKhBkHXbMEsLLppV_MS0XEsbjOo5OnaqFxJ7ygeunvADhw75Cfo5Nwe19ql03ANctkLUgxsndsGFOruKWPOf0_xaYYq-C3fAvlwlvMF9dSpRx0ILXNSp6IFWexfsEr0Ac_V-Zsbv56/s200/IMG_2267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322099475848406978" border="0" /></a> way they moved together, as massive darker blue shadows in the midst of the clear blue sea was something I’ll never forget. And then Dan scared one of them, and it darted off so fast my eyes almost couldn’t track it, and that’s when I realized this is one animal that is very well designed for the environment in which it lives. Goldie seemed to be as impressed as I was, or maybe she was just taking revenge on Dan for scaring the ray, but she spent the evening considering a tattoo of a ray on her leg.<br /><br /><br /><br />After those amazing dives we were pretty amped, but also basking in what we’d seen. So we weren’t moving too quickly as we wandered down the road towards a place, maybe a house, where some named Marie, or was it Maria sometimes cooks food for folks. It gave us a chance to walk further along the road that rings the island, admiring the fact that the road was surfaced with pavers, each placed individually. It makes it easier to deal with the potholes, but is somewhat unfathomable given how long it must take to create in the first place. Eventually, we made it to Maris’s house, where we feasted on shrimp, lobster and king fish, plus rice and salad, and of course beer, for a whopping 7 dollars each. This was the first of two meals that day, however, which reminded me we weren’t in a place where food is always plentiful. The six of us ate Maris out of everything she had, and as we wandered back up the road, she was taking down her welcome sign. And later that night, we managed to eat the pizza shop out of pizza AND chicken curry. I know that some of the people I was traveling with have big appetites, but I think it’s mostly that there really isn’t that much that isn’t rice and beans. And we were forking up all of it. Which made it a bit embarrassing when Julien, the dive master, and Chavo, the local kid who was assisting him on the boat, showed up to join us for dinner only to discover that the restaurant was out of food!<br /><br />The other interesting part of that meal was when Chavo, pressed to describe what he wanted to be when he grows up, told me that he just hopes he <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2007/oct/09/international.mainsection2">finds some of the packets of cocaine that sometimes wash up on the beach</a>, so that he can sell it and buy a slick car. It’s an interesting aspect of the economy there, which stems from the island’s location near some of the major smuggling routes out of Colombia.<br /><br />The next day we woke up early, and were on track to catch our plane until we realized it left an hour earlier than we thought. Still, after a bit of a scramble, we made it and were on our way back to Managua. In Managua, my dad’s friend Rita Arauz had arranged for a van to pick us up and take us to San Juan del Sur, 2.5 hours to the south. As with many such plans, not everything flowed smoothly, and there was a great deal more sitting around waiting that we had anticipated. Still, it gave us the chance to a) try the really yummy tacitos at the Managua airport, b) learn more about the foundation Rita runs, <a href="http://www.nimehuatzin.org/">Nimehautzin</a>, and c) get a free ride. Once we were on our way, we passed out of the Managua traffic into the countryside which was fairly dry this time of year, and dotted with extremely impressive volcanoes. Eventually, we arrived at <a href="http://fincalasnubes.com/">Finca las Nubes</a>, and the absolutely gorgeous house <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8nogb_QkjRKxnu_yMTmIqvgrcWCpxAq1ze_4E7PwX1fMa43geO7uXTbLvwZTK2Fsyuyi-juGQnIUM2fI8mCT9WTYfLDoHJwVC_5pQNptyr9M0cl7qb1BN9CdR83KimuD2h50XQjyGnjda/s1600-h/IMG_2324.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8nogb_QkjRKxnu_yMTmIqvgrcWCpxAq1ze_4E7PwX1fMa43geO7uXTbLvwZTK2Fsyuyi-juGQnIUM2fI8mCT9WTYfLDoHJwVC_5pQNptyr9M0cl7qb1BN9CdR83KimuD2h50XQjyGnjda/s200/IMG_2324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322099841534238194" border="0" /></a>that Devin had found for us to stay in. By the time we got there, the others had already made themselves at home, and were sitting on the bar stools that are kindly located IN the pool.<br /><br />That was the start of the surf part of the trip. I won’t give you the blow-by-blow, since that consisted entirely of waking up, eating, surfing all day, eating some more, and then sleeping. Lather, rinse, repeat. But it was both a joy and a challenge hanging out with a group of 13 (eventually 14 when Trent arrived having celebrated his successful match at UCLA for dermatology) for 4 days. The fun parts were throwing all the surfboards on top of our two cars, pilling everyone in (including, always, a bunch of guys riding the rails of the pickup – what is it with guys and trucks?) and heading out to some amazingly remote beach where we had the break to ourselves. Also fun was getting to learn to surf, although I don’t think I’ll ever get remotely good at it. And it was fantastic to have a big group of fun people all together, in the stereotypical spring break that MTV has popularized but that I never really experienced. SB2K9, baby! The challenging part was trying to make decisions with that many people, and negotiate where we were all going to sleep. And completely not fun were the nasty sunburns we all got from spending literally all day in the sun, even though we diligently reapplied our sunscreen.<br /><br />I have to state the obvious, which is that surfing is pretty painful. Forget the tiny jelly fish stings we all got. Or getting completely washed out by a big wave and spending what feels like eternity in the white water to surface with a gallon of sea water in your sinuses that will spend the next hour and fifteen minutes slowly draining out your nose at unexpected intervals. Or getting conked on the head with your board by that very same wave. (My friends knew what they were doing when they talked me into a “soft”-topped foam board.) Or the muscles you never knew you had until you spend all day trying to direct a large floating oblong to obey your commands, not the ocean’s. It’s the very fine scratches and scrapes that you get on your knees and elbows from the sand that’s mixed in with the wax on your board, which then sting like fire as they’re bathed, with every wave, in a combination of salt water and sunscreen. My main impression of surfing is that it’s a slow death by rug burn. Is it any wonder I don’t think I’ll ever get good at it?<br /><br />Actually, I liked it a lot. And I loved Nicaragua. Both the uber-mellow Caribbean vibe in Corn Island and the more touristy San Juan del Sur, which is not entirely successful in its resistance to Costa Ricanization, but is still pretty real. Neither place had any signs of the crushing poverty I had thought we might see, both places were wonderfully welcoming, and I loved the chance to pretend I spoke Spanish, eat good food, hang with friends, and relax. So I was sad to leave early, but proud of myself for successfully navigating the two buses it took me to make it from San Juan del Sur to the Managua airport. And although I found myself thinking as I compared the urban sprawl that is Houston to the scenes I had just seen in Nicaragua, that there’s much I prefer about the latter, I was still extremely relieved that I had the good sense to give myself a whole day to leave LAX, come home, do laundry, sleep in my own bed, and take a yoga class (with one of the Olsen twins, I have no idea which) before heading on to the next adventure.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5322096107968314817%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="192" width="288"></embed>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-35791584347418569432009-03-14T16:32:00.004+11:002009-03-15T14:06:17.847+11:00Spring BreakWell, I'm almost done with finals, finally. This quarter went by terribly quickly. I'm definitely not ready to be only one quarter away from graduating. But I never like the stress of finals, so I'm pleased to have that largely behind me. Especially since I don't have to confront the fact that I'm returning to the real world until after some more exciting travel.<br /><br />First, I'm going to Nicaragua with some friends. 6 of us are headed to Corn Island, on the Caribbean coast, to dive for a few days. And then we head west, to meet up with a larger group where we've rented a house in San Juan del Sur. Most people are going to surf. I plan to do absolutely nothing. Although who knows, I might see if I have any better luck than my last attempt at learning to surf. (Which was wonderfully fun, but left me with the worst sinus infection of my life.)<br /><br />Here's a map of the trip to Nica:<br /><iframe marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&s=AARTsJp907J90FhtXz8M2Ln2Cq-uOnBC7w&msa=0&msid=118183036205454805883.0004650d8c4b9964118cc&ll=12.361466,-85.133057&spn=3.755429,4.669189&z=7&output=embed" frameborder="0" height="350" scrolling="no" width="425"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=118183036205454805883.0004650d8c4b9964118cc&ll=12.361466,-85.133057&spn=3.755429,4.669189&z=7&source=embed" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br /><br />Then I head back to LA for exactly 29 hours. After which I head west, to Vietnam. That trip is kindly funded by the US Department of Education and my school, since I'm going with my team from school to do research for our consulting project. Our client is <a href="http://www.chi-em.org/">Chi Em</a>, and we'll be hanging out in Hanoi and Dien Bien. I'm going a couple days early, though, so that I have the chance to see <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Ha_long_bay.jpg&oldid=17900246">Ha Long Bay</a>:<br /><br /><iframe marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&s=AARTsJpW1Vu4f024LAlJojdKgIQX1uwxNw&msa=0&msid=118183036205454805883.0004650daf1be2fa3fbc2&ll=20.447602,105.05127&spn=7.201785,9.338379&z=6&output=embed" frameborder="0" height="350" scrolling="no" width="425"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=118183036205454805883.0004650daf1be2fa3fbc2&ll=20.447602,105.05127&spn=7.201785,9.338379&z=6&source=embed" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br /><br />I'm not sure what kind of internet access I'll have except when I'm in Hanoi, but keep checking. If I can put photos up, I will!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-19242105821302606682009-02-19T06:03:00.003+11:002009-02-19T06:09:18.041+11:00Clickwheel RouletteI have written one non-school thing in the last month, and that's the liner notes for my mix this term. I thought I'd share it here, since it gives me the excuse to post another photo from the Kings of Leon concert.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEblN2DnqLyGUx73ahdql7IqMOXbCaMeVitRGC5WlE9nHfZkV-09lMLNrBlwH6pcBvKpV3dS8q0h3KK2Q1KSKJcwZ0DLuczVH913U8p8wXdzD-SOr0Ib8ZR8YuQbaCvCeMiudLhRF5XeF_/s1600-h/IMG_2196.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEblN2DnqLyGUx73ahdql7IqMOXbCaMeVitRGC5WlE9nHfZkV-09lMLNrBlwH6pcBvKpV3dS8q0h3KK2Q1KSKJcwZ0DLuczVH913U8p8wXdzD-SOr0Ib8ZR8YuQbaCvCeMiudLhRF5XeF_/s320/IMG_2196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304215662236075122" border="0" /></a>Clickwheel Roulette<br />I’ve been seriously lacking in inspiration for this mix. It’s partly that I’m in the coolest MTC group ever, (although the name was supposed to be Prostitute Turtle) and I’m having performance anxiety. And then I’m going later in the quarter than I ever have, and a certain Rafferty, and a certain Villegas stole my two best songs. When you find yourself threatening your friend with homicide over a song, you know you’re in trouble. It’s also that I’ve been spending my commutes listening to everyone else’s killer mix, and as a result I haven’t spent nearly enough time mining the <a href="http://www.kcrw.com/">KCRW</a> archives. So I decided to keep it simple. I put the clickwheel in the middle of the alphabet and pressed play. Then I tried to see where my musical free-associations would take me. If nothing else, it solved the problem of how to order the songs.<br /><br />1) The Longest Road (Morgan Page Radio Edit) – Morgan Page<br />I was originally going to open with Walking on a Dream, which Kyle introduced you to last week, and that song makes me think of this one. I like this kind of techno. I first heard it on the radio when I got back to SF after my study abroad experience. The lyric about pastel trailer parks stuck with me enough that I managed to fish the song out of Google. I love the internets.<br /><br />2) William's Blood – Grace Jones<br />Thinking of songs I first heard on the radio, thank you KCRW.<br /><br />3) I Idolize You – Lizz Wright<br />Grace Jones’ deep and sexy voice then made me think of Lizz Wright. This is a cover of a song that Ike wrote for Tina.<br /><br />4) Feelin’ Love – Paula Cole<br />Now thoroughly in sexy blues territory, I remembered this song from the era in college when I still bought CDs. This version is better because it doesn’t skip at minute 2:38.<br /><br />5) What You Want – The Roots<br />This song has an awesome, raunchy saxophone and base line. Turn it up. No really.<br /><br />6) Me Estas Tentado – Wisin & Yandel<br />Here’s another song I first heard on the radio, just last week. It comes here because I needed to back up the baseline of the last song with another song that makes me dance around my room.<br /><br />7) Lullaby of Clubland – Everything But The Girl<br />The cheesy, wall-of-synth ending of the previous song made me think of one of my favorite electropop songs from college. Best known for their song Missing, these guys actually put out two really good albums: Walking Wounded and Temperamental.<br /><br />8) Again & Again – Umbrellas<br />I’ve got to follow electropop with synthpop. I have no idea what the story with this song is, but I heard it on Pandora, and I liked it.<br /><br />9) Won’t You Come Again – Susie Suh<br />On the same day that I first heard the last song, Pandora introduced me to this track by Susie Suh. I love her low key vocals, and her deep voice fits with the ladies from the beginning of the mix. “I’m missing you. Or maybe I’m just missing who I was when I was with you.” That’s honesty.<br /><br />10) Go (Go Your Way) – The Kin<br />Pandora was on a streak the day I heard all these songs. Although, I have to admit I liked this song a lot more until, on the 11th listening or so, I realized they weren’t saying “give me back my incense.” Too bad - I thought that was hilarious exactly because it made no sense.<br /><br />11) Fans – Kings of Leon<br />You didn’t think you were going to escape the joy that is KOL, did you? I just saw these guys at Madison Square Garden, and while I might have wished for more jamming, they ROCKED.<br /><br />12) Out of Our Hands – Gemma Hayes<br />I like this woman’s voice a lot.<br /><br />13) 7 Stones – <a href="http://www.lindsaymac.com/home_/home_.html">Lindsay Mac</a><br />Coming back for another round of soulful female singer-songwriters, I had to include a plug for my friend Lindsay and her cello. I just saw her in concert at Hotel Cafe, and she was <span style="font-style: italic;">awesome</span>.<br /><br />14) Smells Like Teen Spirit – Tori Amos<br />Even if some of you may want to disown me for saying I like this better than the original, I had to acknowledge my continued love affair with covers. This is to prove that you can make any song sound like a folk song. And if you’re Tori Amos, you can kick ass while doing it. <br /><br />15) Diario de Viaje – Federico Aubele<br />From fabulous piano to fabulous guitar. Very much in the tradition of Thievery Corporation, who produce him, this guy’s stuff is even more interesting than theirs. I wonder if they’re jealous?<br /><br />16) Goodnite – Melody Gardot<br />I actually thought of her wonderful, bluesy Worrisome Heart earlier, when I was playing blues, but this song makes an even better ending. Still, you should check out the other song.<br /><br />17) Gorecki (Global Communications Mix) – Lamb<br />Bonus track. This was the first Lamb song I ever heard, and by far the best use of a trip hop beat I’ve come across. They need to be handled with caution, but clearly, Lamb is up to the challenge.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-75298601780656234602009-02-19T04:58:00.007+11:002009-02-19T06:03:15.800+11:00Hello stranger!Hi!<br /><br />Last time I posted, I said I'd be writing regularly. But that was over a month ago. Oops. In the meantime, here's what I've been up to:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qln6fu1kGV9DoFMb2nDi4GEUWhYVT4pCP-5Rx5axfjelbBtyzcl863C-V9YBpEAc2ZQXp4ht1XmwTQjBQivq4oNP9FChNr33P5hIR2FGkEcZeTKieh7VwiWRTCUhWHpTyYBeur_JwvOi/s1600-h/IMG_2094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qln6fu1kGV9DoFMb2nDi4GEUWhYVT4pCP-5Rx5axfjelbBtyzcl863C-V9YBpEAc2ZQXp4ht1XmwTQjBQivq4oNP9FChNr33P5hIR2FGkEcZeTKieh7VwiWRTCUhWHpTyYBeur_JwvOi/s400/IMG_2094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304201619849591506" border="0" /></a>1) School. That's a photo of life at Anderson. In January. Bet you want to move to LA now too, don't you?<br /><br />2) Skiing. I had a weekend with friends up at Mammoth, which was awesome. Snow was pouring out of the sky, which made it hard to see, but much fun to ski. Or in my case, snowboard a few turns, fall, get stuck, dig the end of my board out of the massive drift I had impaled myself on, get up, brush myself off, snowboard a few turns, fall...<br /><br />3) Family. I went to visit my sister and her family in NYC. I was really there to recruit, but I didn't manage to make any of the meetings I'd set up stick, so instead I hung out with the Adelson-Bhallas, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShw48Q7IsnDR9bExVdatAzeLF76d9WqfkIF5smUEGiw_56724DhGipKWIA8R5Zg3ZeD1Ad-e-gSekBVXZ4iiV3D_G-eAV-E-IniGOoOYMArN5gk9uUKMb0MmuDtYdU-0ULkWF7_vRkVZW/s1600-h/IMG_2195.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShw48Q7IsnDR9bExVdatAzeLF76d9WqfkIF5smUEGiw_56724DhGipKWIA8R5Zg3ZeD1Ad-e-gSekBVXZ4iiV3D_G-eAV-E-IniGOoOYMArN5gk9uUKMb0MmuDtYdU-0ULkWF7_vRkVZW/s400/IMG_2195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304209953875130994" border="0" /></a>went to a Kings of Leon concert (my first at Madison Square Garden), and caught up with old friends.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl58EfWp7YzSFRJ4QOju8p3QM1gy5ocb4VwA4Z6z-ZJfYso6yhE0nsLfdj92MgI1Gk0WlcMymnUBSWPowLQTL3l8PZd_5HbOuQzsUGtuY47Q4jBLRdjfUGWKTbmhximz9C3YfePZ-VVzZd/s1600-h/IMG_2204.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl58EfWp7YzSFRJ4QOju8p3QM1gy5ocb4VwA4Z6z-ZJfYso6yhE0nsLfdj92MgI1Gk0WlcMymnUBSWPowLQTL3l8PZd_5HbOuQzsUGtuY47Q4jBLRdjfUGWKTbmhximz9C3YfePZ-VVzZd/s400/IMG_2204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304210357467554194" border="0" /></a>Did I mention how cute my niece and nephew are?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdljJfsqbk_ju_WlBFpQFqTRlQWPS8eBYw31_3eYLQjsGj3kd4sqPnXgTGcn4n2_P0Qb5sPAxPwKEMS-dE62Eo8-w1Ho6PfQYa46Ccqf22sqzMIgmA3uhMBk_mJiYHN7YCz3CZKEb4-xO/s1600-h/IMG_2240.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdljJfsqbk_ju_WlBFpQFqTRlQWPS8eBYw31_3eYLQjsGj3kd4sqPnXgTGcn4n2_P0Qb5sPAxPwKEMS-dE62Eo8-w1Ho6PfQYa46Ccqf22sqzMIgmA3uhMBk_mJiYHN7YCz3CZKEb4-xO/s400/IMG_2240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304214087507539922" border="0" /></a><br />4) More school. In which we dress up and act like fools, much of the time. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJDAmB6jhSuf8bzZACp4fuKJAmdx8KvvBkxHdaDehxu4L6XE6-fc8axB4G4vn1hly9PRHN8nuq75GYUJFdWwxSp5iyXhDcVjzaF9oAR8mJ4tPoMxcMY3ZF6vHzFMQS3iTfS8uwMO0dUBr/s1600-h/IMG_2247.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJDAmB6jhSuf8bzZACp4fuKJAmdx8KvvBkxHdaDehxu4L6XE6-fc8axB4G4vn1hly9PRHN8nuq75GYUJFdWwxSp5iyXhDcVjzaF9oAR8mJ4tPoMxcMY3ZF6vHzFMQS3iTfS8uwMO0dUBr/s320/IMG_2247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304214717088040978" border="0" /></a>And also do work. Which is why I'm going to sign off now. I promise to be better this time. Especially since I've got two trips in the works - 1 to Nicaragua and 1 to Vietnam. Back to back. We'll see if I ever want to get on an airplane again.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-16369971367464891332009-01-15T09:12:00.005+11:002009-01-15T09:32:57.341+11:00Home again<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qDRU12ykGFMeQ3vvwhbe9GXt_O0LcCq2AIbVKSaAmOKNa4l0aBcXaEoAyHRSXQa4KzAiUAhGv2pb0V2hMH3xP6f7Vlgbd1-Qmf8fFFwRCgHhfJlSFgPXMIiwN_8g_IJt_zYcmUMx9Gaw/s1600-h/IMG_2093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qDRU12ykGFMeQ3vvwhbe9GXt_O0LcCq2AIbVKSaAmOKNa4l0aBcXaEoAyHRSXQa4KzAiUAhGv2pb0V2hMH3xP6f7Vlgbd1-Qmf8fFFwRCgHhfJlSFgPXMIiwN_8g_IJt_zYcmUMx9Gaw/s200/IMG_2093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291279809496559634" border="0" /></a>(view from my new place)<br /></div>As most of you have figured out, I'm back. In fact, I'm so far back that I've already been completely consumed by life back at school. It's amazing how everything is the same. I'm having a harder time than I expected readjusting. Maybe it's the lack of free time - among other things, I miss having this outlet! For the moment, I'm hoping I'll get to keep updating. We'll see how well that goes...<br /><br />In the meantime, I've got new digs. I'll be living in Venice, and while my apartment isn't huge, it's not tiny either, so please come visit.<br /><br />The apartment finding process was an adventure. I met a lot of crazies. There was the woman who over-decorated everything and particularly favored leopard print, whose dog pissed on my shoes. There was the guy who was "cool if I lived there", but he couldn't stand hair (said, staring at my ponytail which has gotten quite long since I wasn't game to brave an Australian haircut). There was the woman who was 7 months pregnant. I find in awkward asking a woman if she's expecting, especially if she's already a little round around the middle. But the fact that we would be adding a third roommate, one who doesn't sleep through the night, is kind of relevant. I was pretty discouraged. But I found a place, and if you ignore the fact that I'm only half unpacked, its good.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9199I1DaUrCpwRgsi-n0nk7j3Zq2NjB6ihxdoTSWDgvDWW1Kc3Dzs4ixwm43HL1p_Ok2fywvxir38GTb6OY_g0nEMLsYZVmnFYKdK8o6qvt8exFsXhQAUqTvtiwRP9DmuB9Ris25UXsl/s1600-h/IMG_2085.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9199I1DaUrCpwRgsi-n0nk7j3Zq2NjB6ihxdoTSWDgvDWW1Kc3Dzs4ixwm43HL1p_Ok2fywvxir38GTb6OY_g0nEMLsYZVmnFYKdK8o6qvt8exFsXhQAUqTvtiwRP9DmuB9Ris25UXsl/s320/IMG_2085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291279438157009986" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> (my empty storage crate)<br /></div><br />So this quarter is gearing up to be crazy busy, but I'm excited about my classes. I'm taking Business and Economies in Emerging Markets, Non-market strategy, International business strategy, and Negotiations. Plus my 6-month consulting project / masters thesis, for which it looks like we'll be developing a crop insurance product for a microfinance organization in western Vietnam. I might even get to go to Vietnam! Hopefully the adventures are just starting. Stay tuned...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-45806525152369517062008-12-28T18:02:00.010+11:002009-01-06T13:03:04.532+11:00New Zealand Part 4, North IslandDay 11 - Christchurch to Rotorua<br />We arrived in the North Island on Christmas Eve, and were greeted by rain and crowds. Although after 10 days in the extremely sparsely populated south, more than 5 people in one place starts to feel like a crowd. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTawuEDxM-kO1_FpCbTjzv-y4DAGR7Yigtd31Bi1tADAulnWeH1KkhP9lpYvwkkNpQWYt2f1kT0g3d7zSk7pLcE0biykb6BZWhhsGw1XE1OVMSWz5DNJe1fj_wzrQ1-S-aVvxcyymbkkwW/s1600-h/IMG_1909.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTawuEDxM-kO1_FpCbTjzv-y4DAGR7Yigtd31Bi1tADAulnWeH1KkhP9lpYvwkkNpQWYt2f1kT0g3d7zSk7pLcE0biykb6BZWhhsGw1XE1OVMSWz5DNJe1fj_wzrQ1-S-aVvxcyymbkkwW/s200/IMG_1909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287988894548421858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDruwlbCPubvMZrG6LfxS6kABgMWCaHxLeODWCU0ZSxTuDA60KyJWZ_wiAhyphenhyphenpzEBc28LzbsU0h6d29crrHPBCkvD84rOk3q_s3D-IGNGFJxqyHM-MOIQyEk5uIJhQIEs1RvxWYvjCIrxU/s1600-h/IMG_1907.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJDruwlbCPubvMZrG6LfxS6kABgMWCaHxLeODWCU0ZSxTuDA60KyJWZ_wiAhyphenhyphenpzEBc28LzbsU0h6d29crrHPBCkvD84rOk3q_s3D-IGNGFJxqyHM-MOIQyEk5uIJhQIEs1RvxWYvjCIrxU/s200/IMG_1907.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287988885943244498" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRE1YtaJrQpqR7f_WpkUonBw6sLP75b9ZPF1Xua2Xgczi91mcPFOmzbVtUhmYcSrlvobPfqEBRpo6_ZDOM4qyts0ThjS3yoRHbRTK9rc21bw1EhkMIfZf9qKk-mQuU50xuBv1u5dDmsk1/s1600-h/IMG_1906.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJRE1YtaJrQpqR7f_WpkUonBw6sLP75b9ZPF1Xua2Xgczi91mcPFOmzbVtUhmYcSrlvobPfqEBRpo6_ZDOM4qyts0ThjS3yoRHbRTK9rc21bw1EhkMIfZf9qKk-mQuU50xuBv1u5dDmsk1/s200/IMG_1906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287988869437157090" border="0" /></a>We picked up the rental car, did some grocery shopping, and headed south east, to Rotorua.<br /><br />The drive there was nothing special except that it's surprising how well New Zealand's road system works. The major roads are all two lane highways, and you'd imagine constantly getting stuck behind a really smelly truck. Or a beat up old tractor. And sure enough, you encounter some of both on the road, but right when you're about to get impatient, you also encounter a passing lane. Even with all the people on the road on Christmas Eve, we never got stuck in a jam. Let me remind you that I live in LA. Vive la difference!<br /><br />At Rotorua, we checked into the Hideaway Motel, in Ngongotaha. Just off the main road, it was a very mellow little place that had a kitchen, which would let us hole up and not worry about everything closing down for Christmas. It turns out it also had very nice grounds, complete with two alpacas (the brown one was named Cinnamon), a cow named Scrumptious, a pig named Delicious, three sheep, a lamb, a grumpy ram all alone in his paddock, a miniature horse named Mist and her baby named Summer, and two Dalmatians, Tessa and Chloe. Quite the menagerie. And for those who think miniature horses are cute, let me just say that baby ones are painfully so. Summer either ran around the yard frolicking, or lay down completely sacked out, next to the dalmatians who liked to soak up the sun. So cute.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5287990139117848017%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="192" width="288"></embed><br /><br />We cooked ourselves a nice Christmas Eve dinner, which sadly did not include shrimp. They leave the heads and limbs on the shrimp here, and that's just too much reality for me. But it did include the bottle of bubbly we had bought at Cloudy Bay, the Pelorus nonvintage. Yumm. Then we headed into town and took advantage of Rotorua's location in a geothermal hotspot by soaking in some hot pools overlooking the lake. It was late enough that the pools weren't crowded, and it was wonderfully relaxing. The only problem was the sulfur content was quite high, and when we got home, we smelled pretty terrible of rotten eggs.<br /><br />Day 12 - Rotorua<br />By this point in the trip we were grateful for the excuse to stay 2 nights in the same place. We did well at unpacking and repacking the car every day, but still, the routine gets wearing. So we took in easy Christmas morning. We did go for a drive, thinking we might check out an area that has more "geothermal features", plus some interesting Maori cultural displays. But we were dissuaded by the steep admission fee, and the fact that the craft demonstrations were, not surprisingly, closed. So we drove out to Blue Lake and sat for a while admiring the scenery, before heading back and having a late lunch. Followed by a nap. Followed by a very late dinner, as it was the first time either of us had roasted lamb, and the oven was running way cooler than the temperature settings indicated. It was a very relaxing day, but it didn't really feel like Christmas at all. Just too sunny, and too far from home.<br /><br />Day 13 - Rotorua to Turangi, via Napier<br />Even though we didn't get on the road until mid morning, it didn't take long at all to reach the shores of Lake Taupo, the big lake in the center of the island on whose shores we were going to stay that night. So after visiting a waterfall,<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioD28UsOxw8g5hep2CQ9zO-hMZ2raQwHGkXs3LYhL0y4evY-ODJhATkLw8X30vKArSQ-hPi_Z7D3r0YRkuZ3MvK5bqHLNPvXAgoe8e9xtj4SlqTpTurVk49wr0pS3AsQNlF2ABsLRAQddV/s1600-h/IMG_1925.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioD28UsOxw8g5hep2CQ9zO-hMZ2raQwHGkXs3LYhL0y4evY-ODJhATkLw8X30vKArSQ-hPi_Z7D3r0YRkuZ3MvK5bqHLNPvXAgoe8e9xtj4SlqTpTurVk49wr0pS3AsQNlF2ABsLRAQddV/s200/IMG_1925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287990968918120386" border="0" /></a><br />we headed east, driving through the beautiful Esk valley to reach Napier on the coast at Hawke's Bay. I was excited to see vines again (for those who are counting, this is NZ wine region #3!) and wanted to taste some wine, but all the vineyards were closed for boxing day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgve6J9SG26raLKFX081JcFAWzrOwkR5Zp-Tb3ybvKnNo3RRDtKhbCaLnd7wxcqQbccbo-kSt4tSDl5E3iMpQ-ZAd3fqEjCIl9yfetWEWVA6_eFFcLkGGg-CbLPE_Vfh0JXEkdkoQwqRzi2/s1600-h/IMG_1932.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgve6J9SG26raLKFX081JcFAWzrOwkR5Zp-Tb3ybvKnNo3RRDtKhbCaLnd7wxcqQbccbo-kSt4tSDl5E3iMpQ-ZAd3fqEjCIl9yfetWEWVA6_eFFcLkGGg-CbLPE_Vfh0JXEkdkoQwqRzi2/s200/IMG_1932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287991511076058674" border="0" /></a>So we wandered around Napier for a bit, admiring the art deco architecture (the town was <a href="http://images.google.co.nz/images?q=Napier+earthquake&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&resnum=4&ct=title">flattened by an earthquake in 1931</a>, and subsequently rebuilt). Then we headed back west, and south along Lake Taupo to Turangi, one of the trout fishing capitals of the world.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMD4KKQueZGF8c1sLDGGKAlOKiWVCiD0qM6XG7Gxb4KXtw2KsnZCoFcpkc8XQjzkaSb5_P8IOhYv3D-AlNk6N_eWbx2qb1JkwnqGOk_9wt4JudbC7ekMIHdnh3ogKDjW_OCvE4NqqbJ9Ap/s1600-h/IMG_1934.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMD4KKQueZGF8c1sLDGGKAlOKiWVCiD0qM6XG7Gxb4KXtw2KsnZCoFcpkc8XQjzkaSb5_P8IOhYv3D-AlNk6N_eWbx2qb1JkwnqGOk_9wt4JudbC7ekMIHdnh3ogKDjW_OCvE4NqqbJ9Ap/s200/IMG_1934.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287991519494799154" border="0" /></a> It was a long way to drive, to wander along a beach. But we were well entertained by This American Life podcasts, and besides we were saving our energy for the next day.<br /><br />Day 14 - Turangi to Tongariro Crossing<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb75dbkmV1CvUsBHnx1Hz9h70NwsivYl0rv3iZiumXGVJe0BTFJZ4gFNQoySYm8C7neIDDbv19zERmC1rvfMi7ctMs8oyXu73ZnyxG2rUxOU9zlI3b-k73TxfJ1HJ3U13fnTADtcak4nsP/s1600-h/IMG_1958.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb75dbkmV1CvUsBHnx1Hz9h70NwsivYl0rv3iZiumXGVJe0BTFJZ4gFNQoySYm8C7neIDDbv19zERmC1rvfMi7ctMs8oyXu73ZnyxG2rUxOU9zlI3b-k73TxfJ1HJ3U13fnTADtcak4nsP/s200/IMG_1958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287995016040929186" border="0" /></a><br />The main reason, at least in my head, for leaving the south island to head north, was to see volcanoes. And one of the nicest day hikes in all New Zealand, apparently, is the <a href="http://www.tongarirocrossing.org.nz/">Tongariro Crossing</a>, on which you see lots of them. So we deliberately planned this part of the trip to make sure we could fit in a hike. Little did we know, as with the rest of New Zealand, to really benefit, you need to allow a lot more time. They have a great system of huts in that national park, and the crossing can actually become a several day look. Oh well. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXUZ9U57S2SdpfkWkypnKJNA9iP8TqqE52twlm2S2a6CR3mUG32olkyWMIQ7AbBL2AZccwg8IZqnidKJwUBwBibaHrEtNYSDotklpNmoMbIvkBa_VINqd0zUU7EGF-FvIPZmYGULPCci0/s1600-h/IMG_1946.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXUZ9U57S2SdpfkWkypnKJNA9iP8TqqE52twlm2S2a6CR3mUG32olkyWMIQ7AbBL2AZccwg8IZqnidKJwUBwBibaHrEtNYSDotklpNmoMbIvkBa_VINqd0zUU7EGF-FvIPZmYGULPCci0/s200/IMG_1946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287994874512324946" border="0" /></a>We started at Mangatepopo, and hiked in along a long, gorgeous valley, slowly climbing with the active volcano, Mt Ngauruhoe shrouded in mist on our right. Once we read Soda Springs, the steep part started, but the trail is the most beautifully maintained work of art, I had to take photos. Rather than scrambling across the lava flows we were crossing, we were strolling up custom-built staircases, covered in gravel that had clearly been schlepped in. This country takes trail maintenance seriously.<br /><br />My mom's knees are in bad shape, but she's tough, so she made it most of the way up to the south crater before stopping. I hiked on a little further, just enough to see that the south crater wasn't going to give us dramatic new vistas before turning around. We had lunch on the side of the volcano, who was feeling generous enough to let the mist lift and show her cone. Then we hiked back down, through the changing light, along a beautiful stream. It was a gorgeous hike, even if we didn't make it to the parts that show up on postcards.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5287993691745729409%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="192" width="288"></embed><br /><br />We stayed the night at the Discovery Lodge, near Whakapapa Village. It was very cozy, and I can't say enough nice things about the owner Callum, who was working his butt off to make everyone comfortable. And since this is high season, everyone is a lot of people!<br /><br />Day 15 - Tongariro Crossing to Auckland<br />We started the day with another hike, this one a loop out to Taranaki Falls. Also very beautiful, I'm running out of adjectives, so I'll save most of this for the photos. It was very sunny and clear, so we had a perfect view of the steam and smoke that Mt. Ngauruhoe (the volcano we spent yesterday hiking on) was putting out. Then we had a pleasant drive north to Auckland, through lots of farm land, eventually winding up at our bed and breakfast - the Nautical Nook.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673673856670514381.post-42496241904529485372008-12-25T15:00:00.014+11:002009-01-05T17:09:40.743+11:00New Zealand Part 3, the rest of the South IslandThe impact of this post will be largely lost, since I don't think my descriptive abilities are able to do justice to the things we've seen. But in the interest of staying up-to-date, and posting before I forget all the little details, here goes.<br /><br />1) Nelson - Franz Josef<br />We left Nelson under cloudy skies, and headed south, past the neat little town of Murchison, and west through the Buller gorge. The river that forms the gorge is beautiful, and the steep sides are covered in gorgeous forest, only some of it planted. (They practice aggressive tree cultivation here, and it's very weird to see a whole hillside of mature pines, marching along in perfect rows.) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjSRNMR5h20S_rWhVK381JjHqvbHHYq3ZJ4BN9DiNKjLTbSU0i_c69iRHvJIZwN4QLrJJ6EfIw3-CI8U-mebPLp361PMDlTRUFlQebX1t_E8TImOtxAJpf2G9sellGfQaB8IlzL2s3Hlv/s1600-h/IMG_3966.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjSRNMR5h20S_rWhVK381JjHqvbHHYq3ZJ4BN9DiNKjLTbSU0i_c69iRHvJIZwN4QLrJJ6EfIw3-CI8U-mebPLp361PMDlTRUFlQebX1t_E8TImOtxAJpf2G9sellGfQaB8IlzL2s3Hlv/s200/IMG_3966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285470083807999202" border="0" /></a>Eventually, we hit the rain, and knew we had arrived on the west coast. They were forecasting 5 inches that day, and I'm pretty sure we saw in all fall through the windshield of the car.<br /><br />Nevertheless, the coast there is very wild and beautiful. We passed lots of <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYTMB1008IrjYs_j255nA0DlbYRF6RNoCb8n1Dp5MSnsD19XpvIq5KBKnV1UfT1wF9Ui5qQbiB-5ppZQRJV0uC3F9AvFVN2j-lcuYSCZcHE4o6cX5ansn3va1b8UvuNI4Me2UkZAnxa-k/s1600-h/IMG_1844.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYTMB1008IrjYs_j255nA0DlbYRF6RNoCb8n1Dp5MSnsD19XpvIq5KBKnV1UfT1wF9Ui5qQbiB-5ppZQRJV0uC3F9AvFVN2j-lcuYSCZcHE4o6cX5ansn3va1b8UvuNI4Me2UkZAnxa-k/s200/IMG_1844.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285470493934869618" border="0" /></a>large braided rivers, and a very few small towns. We stopped for lunch in Hokitika, which is <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlnYpodMHOKDua6j7vBJF4watgegT4SpwQUQYEg6oO5A7vFE6UFtV37ifbSZINjrSV_s-ZknRnEBxBwQPdv2rLzW3mj1yt68YTwqnyaMH0p3Dp8ZqufcNSKAJj5sxvfju5KMZ-JYy_6od/s1600-h/IMG_3977.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBlnYpodMHOKDua6j7vBJF4watgegT4SpwQUQYEg6oO5A7vFE6UFtV37ifbSZINjrSV_s-ZknRnEBxBwQPdv2rLzW3mj1yt68YTwqnyaMH0p3Dp8ZqufcNSKAJj5sxvfju5KMZ-JYy_6od/s200/IMG_3977.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285470858756508930" border="0" /></a>known for its jade and jade carvers. My mom bought a gorgeous pendant, and we saw lots of beautiful carvings. But you know me, I was most pleased about the yummy deli and cheese shop we stopped in for lunch, which seemed to be run by someone who truly appreciates food. They had a very pretty not-so-little refrigerated cheese room, and I got to spend a pleasant half-hour tasting and talking about New Zealand cheeses.<br /><br />Eventually, we made it to the town of Franz Josef, which is positioned as it is because of the glacier of the same name. By the time we got there though, we were tired and wet, and so we holed up in our little room at Glow Worm Cottages, enjoying the free soup, and listening to it continue to pour outside.<br /><br />2) Franz Josef - Queenstown<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gU4FHrqwGCdciK0UG8lRZ2BzBwNQsBkjyf2478oIw6DgnQkNqCU1WyfhvAA1LPrFSrDCqCkQCue4EYEITs7kJKV3ECrc1Ror4PNxk1ySgeMTVn4rMguTloILpZUOJJit1MBYjDrYsDkG/s1600-h/IMG_3998.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gU4FHrqwGCdciK0UG8lRZ2BzBwNQsBkjyf2478oIw6DgnQkNqCU1WyfhvAA1LPrFSrDCqCkQCue4EYEITs7kJKV3ECrc1Ror4PNxk1ySgeMTVn4rMguTloILpZUOJJit1MBYjDrYsDkG/s200/IMG_3998.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285471196305630050" border="0" /></a>We braved the rain long enough to see the glacier in the distance. The downpour had actually tapered off to mere rain, and so we would see the ice flow spilling out of the valley mouth. Very cool. Then we soldiered on, turning off the coast at Haast, and heading east, past the northern edge of Lake Wanaka. That was when the countryside opened out, into vast vistas of steep hillsides and large glaciated lakes, and I fell in love. My mom loves the forests, but I likes me a VIEW! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8G7yZVDjCPWhHMguaI8jb1Rf5S6ZpHHGupycP-KjZMXKFdG3aba3QrYvgxK1EsYHJTYq8YXz29ACItHRw28uhQX1x3uStKPouaZdOZSu88XB9zInKDGvHd0dtzKhqwFgf-OxmX6FE7SM/s1600-h/IMG_4023.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8G7yZVDjCPWhHMguaI8jb1Rf5S6ZpHHGupycP-KjZMXKFdG3aba3QrYvgxK1EsYHJTYq8YXz29ACItHRw28uhQX1x3uStKPouaZdOZSu88XB9zInKDGvHd0dtzKhqwFgf-OxmX6FE7SM/s200/IMG_4023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285471579816291938" border="0" /></a>And what a view it was. I had a very hard time keeping my eyes on the road, and not staring around us constantly. The rain changed to a light drizzle interspersed with moody clouds, and the whole scene was very atmospheric.<br /><br />Since we weren't certain yet if we were going to tackle the drive to Milford Sound the following day, we passed Wanaka by and pushed on to Queenstown. In the process, we passed through another wine growing region. This one is at the 45th parallel! We didn't stop, but I imagine their location makes for some very interesting wines. It's also very picturesque, with every row of vines capped off by a beautiful bush covered in dark red roses.<br /><br />We stayed the night at the Queenstown YHA, which is huge, but wonderful. The big kitchen is <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgin3pmHkF2l7cNuNu2MXzHfh_D-BWozdeCiRkZzvvAEto4i4nlezGQMtDUUSr3Giz9UzlGmVwfi36T7askkqpQulcr-k2N1zhNS3QmxqxqxpecKbul02dztPYNYFlQv9YPHCiGyitfASVV/s1600-h/IMG_4052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgin3pmHkF2l7cNuNu2MXzHfh_D-BWozdeCiRkZzvvAEto4i4nlezGQMtDUUSr3Giz9UzlGmVwfi36T7askkqpQulcr-k2N1zhNS3QmxqxqxpecKbul02dztPYNYFlQv9YPHCiGyitfASVV/s200/IMG_4052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285472270947946450" border="0" /></a>very well set-up, and has a nice view of the lake. And people of all ages, sizes and colors all make themselves very comfortable. I loved the feeling there. My mom and I passed up the chance to make ourselves dinner in favor of a very yummy Thai place, and then wandered around the town a bit. The sky stayed light until well after ten, but it was quite cold. Nevertheless, I loved the lakefront, which has been very nicely landscaped, and the town, which is much more Scandinavian in aesthetic than your typical American ski town. (Queenstown is definitely a ski town.) There were also some very nice buildings that mixed old stonework with new construction, and I had a great time peering in the windows of the candle-lit restaurants, fantisizing about what I would do if I ran the place.<br /><br />3) Queenstown - Wanaka<br />By this point, we were more than ready to have some time out of the car, so we scrapped plans to spend 12 hours driving to Milford Sound and back (which would also have necessitated two more 8-hour driving days afterward to get back to Christchurch in time). Instead, we decided to treat ourselves to a flightseeing trip to Milford, and we heard the best one left from Wanaka. Besides, our guidebook described Wanaka as "almost unfeasibly pleasant", which sounded just fine to me.<br /><br />The weather had cleared as well, so we were treated to more of the wonderful, golden, syrupy <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvS1ws_2hKYvuU6G_84cHFVx8lOTnWMzruhlTXOJDhaph9E-Jnw5k_HmmKezE2C_4iKpKJ9EeF-JsmKoia5JqutS7VgxAphkSOHJiil2wHNG6azO0iJS__r99xiYURyG-PkCmbg5BYv4VE/s1600-h/IMG_1707.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvS1ws_2hKYvuU6G_84cHFVx8lOTnWMzruhlTXOJDhaph9E-Jnw5k_HmmKezE2C_4iKpKJ9EeF-JsmKoia5JqutS7VgxAphkSOHJiil2wHNG6azO0iJS__r99xiYURyG-PkCmbg5BYv4VE/s200/IMG_1707.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285472695606358626" border="0" /></a>sunshine. We got to Wanaka mid-morning and had a nice wander about the crafts fair that was on on the village green. Then we ate our sandwiches which watching the paragliders take off behind a boat, and circle in to land. They seemed to be fairly expert at it, certainly enough to avoid the cricketers, thereby ensuring peace was maintained.<br /><br />Eventually, we decided to go for a walk, and so we headed west along the lake, to a sheep station that lets you tramp across their fields. We were headed for a secluded beach, but once on the trail we decided we weren't quite ambitious enough to hike all the way there, so we spent some time on a gorgeous hilltop, staring over the lake and marveling.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQYs2nO6DLVs59wVC6cDUrrN8kDgBWSMe8rSrr1cRsbA_k-S06_xem-1JetwCgeNxeopwEVCI8UUDC9sYlTz9-wNzn3Ep6Se-yElFtf8JEhtWf0WzwGQTtqFFyJe12DEWRnqIT8_E1BSA/s1600-h/IMG_1735.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQYs2nO6DLVs59wVC6cDUrrN8kDgBWSMe8rSrr1cRsbA_k-S06_xem-1JetwCgeNxeopwEVCI8UUDC9sYlTz9-wNzn3Ep6Se-yElFtf8JEhtWf0WzwGQTtqFFyJe12DEWRnqIT8_E1BSA/s200/IMG_1735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285473389038072434" border="0" /></a>By the time we got back to the car, it was already six pm, and we realized how misleading the sunshine can be. It was the solstice, and the sun didn't set that night until 9:50. So we missed the office hours at the hostel, but still were given a warm welcome at Wanaka Backpaka. The kitchen was quite busy, filled with a mixture of young Germans, French, and Israelis, preparing for the first night of Chanukah. So we chilled out, and eventually made ourselves a nice meal which we ate, again overlooking the gorgeous lake.<br /><br />4) Wanaka - Lake Tekapo (with a stop in Milford Sound)<br />I can't express the wonder and the luck. The west coast of the south island gets an absurd amount of rain. On average, 15 feet a year. So you can imagine, sunny days aren't so common. But somehow, we got one of them. And we profited!<br /><br />We took a flight with Aspiring Air, which flies the 8-seat <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Britten-Norman_Islander">Britain-Norman Islander. </a>Our pilot Kyle took us out along the western edge of Lake Wanaka, over the trail we'd hiked the day before, past Mount Aspiring,<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Cc4WZeq7zY9IVZsaomXonu0O6MzoVpMOv7za_BqlK45t0RnGu9L3qDZqgX_lXEgZdRihXitu4Wq_bgv6hzQEDxg2G9FMEE9TMr2Xj90ToW87rKW5qn-HKbLcdb3qy-92m6e2MHJBQf_E/s1600-h/IMG_1754.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Cc4WZeq7zY9IVZsaomXonu0O6MzoVpMOv7za_BqlK45t0RnGu9L3qDZqgX_lXEgZdRihXitu4Wq_bgv6hzQEDxg2G9FMEE9TMr2Xj90ToW87rKW5qn-HKbLcdb3qy-92m6e2MHJBQf_E/s200/IMG_1754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285474155376192690" border="0" /></a><br />where we caught sight of two hardy ice climbers, over newly snow-dusted mountains (all that rain, when it's cold, turns to snow), over glaciers,<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2nBxOgPm6RtUN_ezVUeYVRB14tqPGoRBzIS8hspvg8F_RUvQQBrXZxlqmbVJf2PuGaVIKl9cRWFtvaxEI6noqv0V6u5pP6P1tItNNZ2mwen8Fj_IzPBOJSTWXfxZ5l6mUO4qBQibngo9/s1600-h/IMG_1758.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2nBxOgPm6RtUN_ezVUeYVRB14tqPGoRBzIS8hspvg8F_RUvQQBrXZxlqmbVJf2PuGaVIKl9cRWFtvaxEI6noqv0V6u5pP6P1tItNNZ2mwen8Fj_IzPBOJSTWXfxZ5l6mUO4qBQibngo9/s200/IMG_1758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285474823989604178" border="0" /></a><br />and out along the coast before turning and flying straight up Milford Sound. Wow. I can't begin to explain the wonder...<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2FCelia.Adelson%2Falbumid%2F5287683675910078577%3Fkind%3Dphoto%26alt%3Drss" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" height="192" width="288"></embed><br /><br />We landed in Milford, and walked over to the ferry terminal, where we hopped on the Sovereign, for a cruise along the sound.<br /><br />When we finally returned to Wanaka, by a more direct, but equally fantastic-when-viewed-from-the-air route, our minds were so blown we didn't want to move. So we headed back to Wanaka and sat by the lake to absorb more of the gorgeous sunshine. Eventually though, we had to press on, which nearly broke both our hearts. Wanaka is definitely a place to come back to.<br /><br />We headed north along route 8, through more gorgeous countryside which slowly changed from the steep hills and sweeping panoramas we'd been in to something flatter, browner and more tussocky. We were now in the Mackenzie. After a short detour through the town of Twizel, thinking we'd see a lake or a mountain, or something, only to be disappointed, we pressed on. (In Twizel, there really is no there, there, and the streets all run in a circle, meaning that there's not even a corner for the locals 'hoodlums' to loiter on!) Then all of a sudden, there's Lake Pukaki, which is the exact color you'd get if you somehow filled a well-chlorinated swimming pool with corn starch. Bright, turquoise blue milk. It's wild.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKLb-TY8k1_sAUFTASnjYqaiNJTdi01LWEW42F74ANp1GOVHEO5IvPunEPZIaAy2CTzWdU4iPB6NV_RRXHd_x17GB1ovDiactW6-IZ3YPeIvX267FkfwV8WtityQM34HKR75jwIzuWCBL/s1600-h/IMG_1873.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKLb-TY8k1_sAUFTASnjYqaiNJTdi01LWEW42F74ANp1GOVHEO5IvPunEPZIaAy2CTzWdU4iPB6NV_RRXHd_x17GB1ovDiactW6-IZ3YPeIvX267FkfwV8WtityQM34HKR75jwIzuWCBL/s200/IMG_1873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287685674250768354" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Shortly after, we made it to Lake Tekapo, which is similarly colorful, and set into lovely hills. We stayed the night at the very cozy Lake Tekapo YHA, making it our third night eating dinner overlooking a gorgeous lake. I enjoyed watching a Dutch-Israeli couple light Chanukah candles as the sun set. Clearly a new couple, they nevertheless knew not only the same prayers but also the same songs, which I guess is kind of the point of organized religion. All I know is that they had whittled down three utility candles (the kind you keep for when the power goes out), found a nice flat river stone to use as a menorah, and were forever going to be hard-pressed to match the picturesqueness of their first Chanukah together.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlqhXSGdds9DeNALWqdfGc4lYyxGya32d0hgdui2tHPsecYUaq9eBTw8pJ8lj_36vHCUHqqxw8UL3XqEfJzH-kIx0AgtO24adJFgPcyywUGa6k5B6Hk-tRL7qixarsME8HlBdtgkQp-8E/s1600-h/IMG_1899.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlqhXSGdds9DeNALWqdfGc4lYyxGya32d0hgdui2tHPsecYUaq9eBTw8pJ8lj_36vHCUHqqxw8UL3XqEfJzH-kIx0AgtO24adJFgPcyywUGa6k5B6Hk-tRL7qixarsME8HlBdtgkQp-8E/s200/IMG_1899.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287687259413676226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXscTJDWDbOJJmADI40HUkPN8IqpJtYeB_gkO3JWhxmo-OqNBOtey23sgSQhEdsapItbw8BdxuqOiFNW2qm8Kh8aUBgXQqFFbUd7a4va4haDt3bRxdPpfKE_YFG0AGJUHBFw2AQHGGd8E/s1600-h/IMG_1882.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXscTJDWDbOJJmADI40HUkPN8IqpJtYeB_gkO3JWhxmo-OqNBOtey23sgSQhEdsapItbw8BdxuqOiFNW2qm8Kh8aUBgXQqFFbUd7a4va4haDt3bRxdPpfKE_YFG0AGJUHBFw2AQHGGd8E/s200/IMG_1882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287687256979754658" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5) Lake Tekapo - Christchurch<br />We really weren't in any hurry to leave. In fact, even as I write this, I'm fighting the urge to head straight back. We wandered around the town of Tekapo (not much more to it than Twizel, but much more charming) and then drove out along the lake. The "beach pixie" was feeling generous, and gave us a gorgeous little rocky beach to chillax on for a few hours. My scientist mom and I have been enjoying taking turns reading Bill Bryson's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Short_History_of_Nearly_Everything">A Short History of Nearly Everything</a> aloud to one another, and that afternoon we got through his very entertaining section on plate tectonics. (Ok, that may not sound fun to you, but I enjoyed it thoroughly.) Then, with much reluctance and dragging of feet we headed north and east, back to Christchurch. As we did, we passed a lot of traffic headed south, as the wave of holiday-makers from Auckland finally made it that far south, towing trailers and boats and all manner of fun accoutrements, as if to rub it in that we were going the wrong way. But our bags were packed, we were ready to go, and we were leaving on a jetplane. It was time to discover the north island!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01852842066753740545noreply@blogger.com1