The Changing World of Travel. And of Everything Else …

I thought about how I should refer to traveling during the times we live in now. Lots of people I know say “traveling post-pandemic”, but is it truly “post-pandemic” when the daily Covid numbers are doubling from week to week in every state, and worse around the globe? Maybe “post-vaccine” would be more correct.

We finally came out of our shells, fully vaccinated but still cautious, and dared out to travel overnight twice in the past month or so. We stayed at a hotel in Hickory, NC for a night and then we rented an Airbnb cabin for several days over the July 4^th weekend. We tried to avoid busy, crowded cities. Our cabin was virtually in the middle of nowhere, in the small town of Bakersville, NC (population 466), on a mountain slope surrounded by woods which was only accessible by a one-mile, one-lane forest road so steep we would not dare walk on for fear of spraining something. As far as we know, the deer, and bunnies, and many birds we had for companions up there could not share Covid. We felt safe.

I have loved to travel, as many of you know, but I have found even in these two short trips than I am a bit out of practice. Or maybe there is a combination between me being out of practice and the world having changed. Irrelevant. I felt rusty.

Having thought about traveling lately and actually doing it a little bit, I find that the world of travel has changed since merely a year and a half ago, before it all started. There are things I have learned to look for and research that were inexistent before. Things that I do differently. And there are changes in the world of travel and hospitality that might never be reversed. Some of these things I have observed so far  I thought worth jotting down:

• When you’re looking for places to stay now, hotels and other services (like Airbnb or VRBO) will advertise about their cleaning procedures and methods on their booking sites with every chance they get. Before, they either didn’t, or it was so much expected that I never looked for that information. Now, I hardly click “Check rates” or “Book now” if I don’t see their standards listed – but very few sites are missing this information anymore.
  You’ll find sites that tout “committed to cleanliness”, “our deep cleaning procedures are in place for your safety”, “staff is trained on safe food preparation and service practices and are required to wear masks,” again, “for your safety,” they “clean every surface with approved cleaners after every use” - which could be reassuring. But my question is: should these have been standards to begin with? Are these truly any different, any more “in depth” than what you would normally expect hotels and guest houses to practice, pandemic times or not?! And the harder puzzle to crack: how does one know what’s truly “safer” and what is just an advertising gimmick or PR contrivance because they know this is what people look for now?
  We have found that the bartenders don’t wear gloves like advertised in the pictures on the hotel site, nor masks, and that the Airbnb home very clearly does not clean the covers in the bedroom; they clean just the sheets, for example.
• Some hotels also advertise keyless entry and online check-in and checkout for their rooms. We did check in from our phone but our keyless app did not work. Our phone just refused to pair with the door of the hotel room. We had to ask for a key card, which is what we used before Covid. I remember when we were moving from human bank tellers to an ATM (from human to a machine touch), and now we’re even moving away from a machine “touch” to “touchless.” The world has the ability to handle “touchless” services but the pace is still a little slow.
• I find myself looking for hotels that “do not share ducts”. I look for places that have good ventilation or rooms that don’t share ducts so that air won’t travel from room to room. I spend the least amount of time in the hotel lobby’s area (always masked) and only sit on the outdoor patio if I order a drink, for instance, as opposed to the bar area or at an indoor table. This was not a consideration before. I look more and more for individual homes and cabins rather than a hotel because having a whole house to ourselves ensures we won’t breathe anyone else’s air.
• Another new thing to consider now before you go elsewhere is: do I need to bring my vaccine card with me? Is anything I am doing going to require proof of vaccination or proof of a negative test result? One more ID to bring along. We’re flirting with the idea of international travel next; the question there is: where can I go without having to be in a quarantine for 14 days? If I need proof of a negative test, how long in advance do I need to get it? Where do I get it while I am there? These are new necessities that we are just now learning how to research. With family living in three other countries I admit that I don’t even know all the rules for each country and each airline, but I will learn.
• Maybe you’re less paranoid and fearless than me, but when I travel, should I get stuck with strangers in close quarters (as in boutiques, public bathrooms, or a gondola ride up a mountain, perhaps), I am itching to know whether they are vaccinated or not. I am bothered if they are not masked (I always wear a mask indoors, although vaccinated), and I want to come out and just ask “when was your last dose of the vaccine”? Or “are you fully vaccinated”? I do find that this constant, irrational wondering takes away a lot of the fun, but as irrational things are, there is no controlling it. Or at least not yet. I am hoping that over time, with practice, the obsession will fade. (Easier said than done for a control freak).
• Whether a restaurant had a patio or not was irrelevant to me before, whether traveling or just going out to dinner. Now, not knowing the areas, we had to call and ask who had a patio and whether we could make reservations for it. In the mountains of NC in the middle of nothing the options to dine out are limited as it is. With us being there over the July 4^th weekend when half of the places were closed, our options to find a restaurant were that much slimmer. When a place was open but did not have a patio, we took our food out to go. And that worked OK. We ate it on picnic tables or back at the cabin.
• One sad reality of these times is that the restaurant and hospitality industries are truly, truly hurting. Not just in that their customer numbers are not what they used to be, but in that they have extremely limited staff. Virtually every place we went to on our vacation (hotels, restaurants, entertainment venues) had a “Hiring now. All positions.” sign at the door. The wait staff that are working are slow because places are painfully understaffed. This is a fact. We walked into a place in Burnsville, NC and we stood at the door to be seated for 15 minutes. The patrons were looking at us funny but the only two waiters (a waiter and a bartender, and no idea who was cooking the food but they were not visible from the dining room) did not so much as make eye contact with us because they were busy taking orders, giving out food and drinks, paying bills. We ended up leaving and finding another restaurant where you had to order the food at the counter yourself – no wait staff although the restaurant had very clearly been a sit-down kind of place. Again, only two people were working here, just taking the orders and bringing food out. No drink refills and we cleaned our own tables. No, I am not sharing this because it was an imposition, I am sharing this because it’s sad to see an industry that we so willingly love to support hurting so much.  If we did get a sit-down restaurant with waiting staff, the service was always accurate but at least twice as long as anywhere else before the pandemic. If you go out there and try it out, my word of advice is: patience.

And the lessons are, of course, a lot more: traveling with hand sanitizer wherever we are is not new to me, as a permanent mechanical valve patient, but now I see that almost everyone carries sanitizer or wipes and actually uses them before touching food. A welcome relief! Picking up a mask before we leave the house is as important as the keys.

I guess there is nothing more compelling, more acute, more immediate, more dire than an international disaster to make the world change. Whether we were ready for it or not, we’ll find new ways to adapt, new ways to not be scared, new ways to live. And travel. I hope.

It’ll never be the same, but human resilience and adaptability will eventually win. Of that I am sure. I think “adaptability” is the key word here: what is now an imposition (remembering masks, wipes, vaccine, negative tests, proper ventilation, etc) will become routine, just like packing a toothbrush was before. But isn’t this how humanity survived and progressed, anyway?  

Happy travels, all!

Return to the North Carolina Mountains

A haunted hotel, a rainy week, a tall mountain, puppies, sweet wine, an old Southern manor, an artsy town and a whole bunch of hot-as-the-blue-blazes watering holes can pretty much summarize our Independence Day Weekend. But if you want details, you can keep reading.

I used to drive to Blowing Rock for the day during my first habitation in North Carolina. Of course, from Greensboro, it was slightly closer. It’s my favorite getaway spot, the silhouettes of the mountains, the quiet artful shops, the fresh trout, the smiling faces of mountain people in coffee shops - they all bring me to a place where my heart is whole and peaceful.

Blowing Rock has gotten more cosmopolitan over the years I have been gone. So did Boone. Lots more options to eat vegan, or gluten free, or …what have you … It accommodates just about every appetite and preference. It’s always been good Southern cooking at its best, but now it’s more varied. I loved to see that it’s growing still. Some part of me still wants to see it remain a small, off the beaten path area, but it’s good to see that it’s doing well, too … Parking is the worst, especially on a busy weekend, as July 4^th. But parking far and walking across the downtown is good for the city, good for your health and it makes for great people watching and window shopping. Stopping for a cup-a-joe, some fried pickles, a cold brew, or some Kilwins ice-cream ain’t so bad either.

We had a few days to spare there, so we visited some of the adjacent areas, too. We went up Grandfather Mountain, to cross the mile high swinging (if you ask my husband, not so swinging if you ask me) bridge. Last time we tried to see it (https://wander-world.blogspot.com/2007/11/asheville-trip-thankful-trails.html) we were not so successful – pretty much a white-out in November made for an adventuresome day where we could see no peak and no bridge and the wind almost blew us off the mountain. This time, it was clear as far as you can see, with only some poufy clouds to make the pictures more interesting. It was almost like our Grandfather Mountain curse, or something, was following us, because about 15 minutes after we climbed off the peak, they closed it because thunder clouds were gathering and the bridge was no longer safe to cross. Lucky ducks, us.

We tasted wines at two wineries in the area – I am always surprised how easily you can find sweet wine pretty much anywhere in North Carolina. It is definitely not as prevalent in California and it is hard to find in restaurants. I know, ‘cause that’s how I take my wine and it’s not easy to find. They had some great sweet glasses at Grandfather Vineyard and some smooth middle-of-the-road ones, still tasty at Banner Elk Winery, too. Grandfather Vineyard was our most favorite hang-out spot on July 4^th: so festive, everyone in their red-white-and-blue best, wine glass in hand, sitting on the large covered porch or in Adirondack chairs by the river, listening to a cover band and people watching while their puppies were pooped with heat, laying lazily at their feet. It was an intimate and yet lively joint – a big surprise to find and it already beckons us back. I wish all wineries around us were that good and varied and welcoming …

One day, we visited the Moses H. Cone Flat Top Manor outside Blowing Rock (https://www.blueridgeheritage.com/destinations/moses-cone-manor/). We drove partly on the Blue Ridge Parkway to get there, which was framed by white and pink splendor: the rhododendron was in bloom right about then, and it looked as if the mountains were having a wedding.

The manor is a beautiful place, full of history and the grounds are amazing – they reminded me of the Biltmore grounds: there is something peaceful, pristine, lush and mellow about The Smokies. The soft curves of mountain tops, flowing onto one another like elegant ripples, the steam from all the vegetation gathering up in thick, low clouds, lingering onto their slopes, as if haunted, there is a mystery and wonder about them like no other mountains. The place now belongs to the National Park Service, and it’s free to visit. But the lack of funds unfortunately shows in the lack of care to maintain it. While the grounds were almost perfectly manicured, the house was in a sad state of disrepair.

The house was not open to visit, except for the first floor. There was a movie playing in what seemed to be the former drawing room telling the story of the Cone family and of the house. There was an artist turning wood on a lathe, and there were many artful projects already finished from various media in the gift shop – all locally made. There were things of beauty in there, and the people were incredibly kind and welcoming yet again. I know, I should stop repeating myself: we’re in The South and we should expect this, but having been everywhere across the land, I never take this for granted. I am glad Southern gallantry is still at home here.

Back to food: I had read in one local magazine (could have been Our State, but it could have been something different, too, I cannot remember) a review about The Ridgeline Restaurant in Blowing Rock. Since it was pretty much across the street from our hotel, we wanted to check it out. Although the promised “best restaurant view in Blowing Rock” absolutely delivered times a hundred, the atmosphere was kinda blah – lots of jaded, morose drunks hanging off the bar, and too many kids for our taste (I know, weird combo, right?!) and the food was solid, but not exceptional. I still much prefer my absolute favorite, my first and still biggest Blowing Rock love – The Speckled Trout. I was as giddy as a five year old on Christmas morning to find that it’s still there, beautifully renovated and still delicious and still locally stocked. We also much preferred the atmosphere at The Town Tavern in downtown Blowing Rock – another old timey (for me) joint.

For breakfast, we had lots of options and all good. Village Café in Blowing Rock has a unique setting, in a dark alley at the end of a thick garden in an old-as-the-hill one room house and amazing Argentinian bread with fresh preserves, but Melanie’s Food Fantasy in Boone was my favorite – their vegan “potato madness” plate was invented just for a potato lover like me.

One thing all these places had in common, though: they don’t believe much in air conditioning in this town. We were under fans but dripping sweat the whole time. They think that it  gets “cooler up here in the elevations”, but 80F and 90% humidity with the sun baking your skull is still darn hot … Took us forever to find an off-the-Marriott-trail-and-speaking-a-more-local-accent hotel with a/c for this trip, and even this one had an old, rusty window unit, and yes, another fan above the bed.

And now, about the hotel …

That would be the Green Park Inn. Well, the long and short of it is: it is haunted. If you’re into heavy antiques, sleeping in old, musty wood beds that rock and creak, finding the lop-sided bedside furniture piece “charming” and the rusty mirror frame “full of character”, then this is for you … It has “character”, all right. Especially at 1 minutes past 12 AM when a bright red shadow watches you sleep from the side of your bed and then it disappears into thin air when you try to wake your husband and ask him what the heck … No, seriously – look it up: this place is haunted. I do believe it now, although it did not occur to us to look that up before we booked … Even before I saw this, there is a feeling as you walk towards your room, on uneven, noisy floors, that there is someone behind you, following you. The silence in it is surreal. The red shadow vision happened on our first night, so after this, we tried to make the most of the town and what was around it rather than spend any time in that room … I guess it was a great incentive to get out more and make memories … or maybe the town’s evil plan?!

The hotel is built on top of the Eastern Continental Divide and maybe that’s a space full of energy or something, I don’t know … The name of the hotel bar is The Divide, to honor that. It is the first hotel ever built in Blowing Rock (1880) and it hosted the only Post Office in the town when it was first built. Furniture from that establishment still exists on premises. One night, we had the world’s most hilarious waitress at this bar: a middle-aged woman with her curly dirty blonde hair in a knot held together by a pencil, laughing the most incredulous laugh there ever was uttered … Her name was Roxanne, but it could have been a stage name, too. She jumped between stories about her daughter and her two year old granddaughter, houses blowing up somewhere, and her life in Ohio, Florida and Charlotte where she has lived before – she puts down roots for 2-3 years then she moves right on, she said – she laughed herself to tears after every sentence she finished with an eerie laugh that resembled a “lamb’s voice”, my husband figured. He was not totally wrong … We laughed more at the laugh than the stories.

She kept reminding us that although she loves for us to stay as long as we want, the management team will make her close the bar “soon” (it was around 9 PM which seemed early for a vacationing crowd, but …). She never did close, but with that kind of invite, no one wanted to really stay. We did, though, because her stories were funny. So much free entertainment, you know?!

She was so scatter-headed that she served a customer a burger with no meat on the bun. The plate looked nice and well-put-together, except the bread was opened, one side - lettuce, tomatoes, and onions, and the other side, naked. When her manager brought it to her to show, in front of all of us, she laughed her usual laugh and didn’t seem to mind a bit. After all, we all agreed, it was fairly hilarious. Appropriateness of things, or reality herself did not seem to faze her …

I wondered after some time if she was real or maybe she is the ghost?! I never want to know, really. Although we will be back to Blowing Rock and probably soon, we won’t be staying at The Inn.

See, I didn’t even tell you about he fact that it rained almost the entire time we were there, because that was irrelevant. We did so much, saw so much, ate and drank till we could not breath anymore, looked at people, puppies, art, and the great Smokies that we will not remember the weather part … The ghost part we will. Always. The weather part – ephemeral as it always is – will drop in the deep blackness our forgetfulness …

I still hear Roxanne saying as she did the dishes ('cause yeah, she did do them in the creaky, shaking dishwasher right under our noses, 'cause she was about to close, you know): “I don’t believe in death and taxes. I believe in dishes and laundry … (bw)hahahahahaha … We do, too, Roxanne, we do, too … 

Click the rhododendron to see the photographic journey of our adventures

So Much More than Sunsets. Southern Florida in the Winter

I am sitting on my couch under a soft blanket, sipping hot coffee and looking at my Christmas tree, all decked out. As I do this on my last day off this year, I am flipping through my Key West and Miami pictures from our Thanksgiving trip this year and a longing for warm air, blue waters, and fresh seafood overtakes me …

I wanted to take some time to remember this trip and share a few favorites.

I remember looking up Key West on google, and there was a question: “What is Key West famous for?” The answer was surprising to me: “It is famous for sunsets.” Something of a cop-out, I think, and promptly chuckled to myself: “A boat in the middle of the ocean could be famous for that. That answer is unfair as much as it is limiting.” Although I am a nut for beautiful skyscapes of all kinds, Key West should be famous for a lot more things than just sunsets.

Here are my top 10 favorite memories from this trip and they cover Key West as well as Southern Miami:

1. Chase the history. There is so much history in Key West. You can tell from the age of the building, and the condition of the bricks and the cobble stone around the marina – whip-lashed by many of years of rain, salt, and many hurricane winds. I have always been fascinated with island living. Too much of a control freak myself to really let go and be isolated from the world, totally remote and truly disconnected, how people manage to build houses and a life without the comfort of land connections boggles my mind. The Overseas Highway that connects Key West to Miami did not open till the beginning of the 20^th century. The oldest house in Key West touts its foundation in 1829 and I am sure lots of people lived these parts even before then. Stepping back into this old house is like traveling in time – the house still has limited running water to the main house and looks and feels very much like a two hundred year old house. The smell, the creaky floors, the crooked windows, the lack of modern commodities like A/C keep the authenticity of its age intact.
                                    
                                            The Oldest House in Key West (1820's)
   There are other historic landmarks to visit: Hemingway's house, of course, famous not only for the polidactyl cats, but also for chronicling the life of one of the most famous, loved, intriguing authors of the modern era; president Truman's Little White House – the working vacation home that president Truman kept; the Audubon House, named after the famous ornithologist John Audubon, but with a dark and obscure past that only partially and very obscurely connects it to him. These are just the few historic landmarks we visited, but there are many others. You will hear stories about how the houses were built and how the gardens were put together, stories about their founders, either well-to-do, rich land folk, or wreckers, an occupation partial to these parts – folks who salvaged goods from wrecked ships and got a good penny from reselling them.
                                  
                       A rooster asleep on a fence at The Audubon House
                                                      in Key West
   Just walk the streets of Key West and the history will call your name like a mermaid. Skip the cheesy stores and visit one of these homes instead, and learn something about American history, as it was written in these parts.
2. Take a trolley tour of the city. There are various routes you can sign up for, but get the one that covers the most ground. I believe all of them are narrated and the driver will share things that you cannot find in any brochure. They will also have tips for what restaurant to go to for the best breakfast or a frozen treat, and where Jimmy Buffett's recording studio is located.
3. Walk Duval Street. Everything that you need is on this street. It runs clear across the island, East to West, and at 1.25 miles-length total you can walk from one end to another in a very short time. It has over 100 restaurants and many museums and other attractions to visit. If you are there for the shopping, many gift stores are stringed along this street as well. This street reminded me a lot of New Orleans: some restaurants have live music non-stop, mostly island, or cajun music. All the restaurants are open to the streets and you almost always sit under huge fans. It's the open air living that is very common to island living. The street is a good example of the heart of Key West. You can feel the heart of this city beating with each live music venue you encounter.
4. Even if you don't visit Harry Truman's Little White House, make some time to walk the Truman Annex neighborhood in which it is located. I always thought that beach living means either white washed houses raised on stilts, creaking under the rotting foundations, or huge 20+ bedroom mansions with thick gates and not ever affordable to the common person. The Truman Annex homes are neither. Still on the high end of the spectrum as far as affordability goes (as a quick search for this address shows on Zillow), they are beautifully architected, Old South homes, with thick pillars and plantation shutters. Each one of them is wrapped in a thick garden of palm trees with orchids growing on their trunks, exotic fruit trees and grasses. The homes are jewels hiding within the bountiful greenery around them, behind short, mostly metal fences. More like roadhomes than standalone homes, but separate buildings nonetheless. The neighborhood is lush and quiet, coquette and well groomed. An iguana might be perched here and there on a fence or on a hibiscus bush. You forget for a minute you are in Key West, feet away from the cheese of the t-shirt stores and frozen key lime pie on a stick covered in chocolate.
                               
                  An iguana perched on a house fence in The Truman Annex
                                           neighborhood in Key West
5. Eat some conch chowder. I know, this may sound like a cliché: we're in The Conch Republic, as Key West names itself, do we really have to fall for it?! And the answer is yes, absolutely. Please do! Several places make it and they were all good, but my favorite was the Manhattan style conch chowder at Caroline's Cafe on Duval Street. That tomato soup was probably stewed for hours on end to squeeze every little bit of sweetness from the tomatoes. The conch bits were generous in size and very filling, I mistook them for beef, they were so hearty. Conch by itself, I decided, has a mild flavor, not very impressive, but this chowder was something else! Also, if you want fried conch, get the conch strips, and not the fritters. I found that if the conch meat is mixed with bread and other things (like in the fritters) you end up with a mouthful of fried bread bites with no trace of seafood. So, the simple conch strips, battered and fried are more illustrative of actually eating the seafood than the fritters are.
                                            
                                 The conch chowder and the shrimp po' boy
                                                  at Caroline's Cafe 
6. Go up to The Southernmost Point, but skip the insanely long one-hour line. There is a line of tourists wanting to get their picture taken with the infamous landmark that marks this point in the American landscape. Rather, cross the street and take a picture from across it – you will have some crowds in the background, but you will have them being up close anyway. The buoy is very visible from across the street too, and you save an hour of standing on the hot pavement to take the same picture. With the time you gain back, turn your gaze towards the beach behind and around the buoy and watch the pelicans diving for fish and the iguanas basking on the rocks.
7. Stop by a less traveled, less advertised, random key and take in the landscape. We took a side road on Big Pine Key and drove through neighborhoods and into the natural preserves around them. We drove among the mangrove forests at the edge of the water until we reached a “Road Ends” sign. We spotted key deer which are the smallest deer in North America, and known for being hard to find. They were by the side of this very desert road and super friendly. They posed for a while for us, smiling, it seemed. We were actually looking for the No Name Pub - which was recommended to us – the oldest bar in The Keys, apparently (although I think they might compete with Sloppy Joe's of Key West for this title). This pub is famous for having dollar bills stuck all over the interior, about $60k worth, I believe some sites document. The bar itself, although quirky, was not that impressive, but the trip to get to it revealed another layer of beauty of these parts: crystal clear waters, reefs that stretch on forever, forests growing from The Atlantic, and deer …
                                   
                                                      Key deer on Big Pine Key
                                            
                                       The many dollar bills at No Name Pub
8. While in Miami, definitely go all the way to South Beach. I recommend the Art Deco Museum, just to understand a few things about this architecture and its place in America. Then, walk outside and take in the buildings. Each one is unique. Try to identify the architectural elements you learned about in the museum in each one. Makes for fun sightseeing. Feeling the beat of the street is magical – even if you have not seen the entire city of Miami, you sense that South Beach is one of those destinations where the soul of the city really vibrates and where you can really feel it pulsate. Just the heart of a place, distilled to its essence. The constant music and noise, the carefree tourists here to reinvent themselves and to be someone else than they are at home, the drifters in expensive convertibles, here just for the next thrill, the welcomeness of the locals is all part of the Miami vibe. Definitely make time for it.
                                
                                                    South Beach at night
9. Although South Beach is a must see, I do not recommend eating there. Although the food is good, the tripled and quadrupled prices are not worth it. Don't fall into the trap of the hosts luring you in for “Happy Hour.” The Happy Hour prices are huge in South Beach and the options are very limited. You'll end up buying something from the regular menu and they will be mad at you (they want you to get the oversized drinks so they can make their tips) and pay triple what you should be paying for a skewer of five shrimp. Instead, go to South Beach for the atmosphere and a nice walk, and go inland, on Biscayne Bay (where all the cruise ships take off) to any one of the five star hotels that have gourmet restaurants without the hassle and probably just as delicious and unique. It's Miami and they are all competing for the most and the best and the finest.
                                   
                                  The giant drinks at a South Beach restaurant
                           (notice the scale between the Corona bottles
                                                                             and the glasses)
10. Definitely try to get a non-stop flight to Miami from wherever you're coming. You want to spend the least amount of time on a plane and the most amount of time on the ground visiting, eating and taking in the sights. I also strongly recommend the drive from Miami to Key West, instead of flying directly into Key West. The drive on the Overseas Highway, across all of the Florida keys is an experience all in itself. Marvel at the amount of water all around you, stretching up to where it flows off the edge of the earth, it seems. Driving it down at sunset increases the sense of wanderlust. And pick your favorite key and stop for a little. You'll be surprised what it hides.

And as a bonus, yes, when in Key West, wander over to Mallory Square, on the West side of the island, to watch the sunset. For maximum visibility, go early and find a table right next to the railings at Margaritaville in Mallory Square. Sip a beer with a lime in it, and have a snack, then sit comfortably in your chair and wait for the sky show to start. This way, you ensure no crowds between you and the water. It is the perfect ending to a day filled of adventure.

I happen to think that every sunset is special. Every sunset is a reminder that the world still moves and things are still in balance. I also think there are no two sunsets alike. Ever. The light is different with every one, the clouds are different, and even the color of the water is different every day. There is something extra special about sunsets in Key West, though: after driving to what seems like the end of the planet, watching the world saying “good night” to light is magical in its intrinsic closure. You do have a stronger sense of ending and complete and irreversible finish, than in no other place. What is there to see beyond the last spot on the planet?! Nothing but a complete surrender to the water and to the skies. Key West gives you this feeling like no other place. But the rest of the reasons to go visit are worth this trip, too. I hope you go and I hope you agree. Here's to having a nice trip and making your own “top 10” list soon!

The famous Key West sunset. Click the picture to see the album of this trip. 

What Hawaii Is. And What It Is Not.

"In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." (Albert Camus)
  

I was sitting at this table, right against the glass of a greasy spoon place, called Seaside Bar and Grill, on Kuhio Ave. in Oahu, Hawaii, one morning, trying to open a small pack of sugar, to add to my coffee. The sugar sticks inside the packs here, something awful, because of the humidity, and it’s hard to shake it loose to pour it out in your coffee.

I was watching how, confused tourists, felt apprehensive about walking in for breakfast, because the place doesn’t look inviting at all, with its rusty and holy, run down awning in the front, musty, green, moldy rug under it, and with an Asian woman who could have been 100 years old as the hostess, sitting on a crooked wooden chair, with eyes small from the bright sun who blinded her. She sat there, almost unmoved, waiting for her guests, with a faint smile on her thin lips, staring at the crowd.

The food I was eating was pretty good. The coffee – horrible. The prices were surprisingly low, for Hawaii, you know. I wanted to encourage people to go ahead and come in, because there was no wait for a table like in other places, the food was decent and I wanted the hostess (maybe the owner, too), to earn enough money to allow her to fix the awning and maybe even get better tables in the joint.

When I sat down to write this blog, I didn’t have a clue what I as going to write about. There is so much to say about Hawaii, or at least, Oahu, because that’s the only island I have seen. My breakfast at Seaside Bar & Grill was the first image that popped into my head, when I opened this white page to write.

Before you go to Hawaii, you’ll have a chorus of people you know that have been there before telling you the same thing, in unison: it’s Paradise. Period. One word. End of story. The air smells like flowers and the water is so blue and clean. And there is music in the air, and exotic flowers and birds at every pace. You’ll never want to come back to the Mainland. You’ll want to move there. That’s what you’ll hear everyone say. You’ll search online and you’ll read much of the same reports.

Not sure whether I went to the “wrong island” (how could have I?! – aren’t all of them part of … Hawaii …?!) or what, but Hawaii was much more, or maybe sadly, even much less to me that just simply Paradise.

This blog will be about what this unique place on Earth was to me. It’s as subjective and biased as it will ever get and much less succinct than one word. I hope you bear with me. I will say “Hawaii” but keep in mind, I am always talking about Oahu, where I spent a week this February.

What Hawaii isn’t …

A Paradise. Let’s bust this one myth first, and then, we can move on. When I came off the plane, the air smelled much like every other air in any airport – of old carpet. There weren’t any Hawaiian beauties throwing leis of orchids at me. Other than flying over the very blue, deep waters of the Pacific Ocean, landing in Hawaii was pretty much just like landing in Miami Beach, maybe, except with fewer high rises. When we stepped outside, I smelled airplane gas, not flowers. When we finally got into the parking lot, I did smell, very fainted, plumeria and hibiscus in the air, or maybe orchids … Finally! But it was not very strong – if one had not pointed this to me, I would not have noticed. The air is thick with humidity, so thick that I thought Southern humidity is only a joke compared to Hawaii in February.

Driving around the streets of Honolulu is no different than driving around any other big city of the world. Traffic. Dirt. Homeless folks and Wal-Mart and Target carts in the park. Tons and tons of graffiti walls. The exit and traffic signs all look “American” but the names of the streets give away the fact that you’re in a different country. Really. Kuhio, Kalia, Ala Wai, Kamehameha are some examples. What is different than most American buildings is the amount of decaying walls, clad in mildew, you see on every street. The mold, and fungus growing on everything is overwhelming. Even beautiful, architecturally, buildings are covered in mold, even in “fancy” and high end neighborhoods. Roofs with what almost looks like moss growing on them are everywhere – in the city, and out, in the mountains  – which gives the whole place a run down, decrepit, sort of poor and sad look.

Our hotel room, in the heart of Waikiki Beach, smelled like musty air, although the air conditioner never stopped. My sterling silver necklace left blue marks on my neck, from the very humid and hot air. And this was supposed to be the rainy season. Our bathroom never dried up. If Paradise is this humid, I am second guessing my wanting to go there.

What Hawaii is …

Everywhere you turn, in Hawaii, even on the busiest of streets in Honolulu, you’re drowned in a sea of green vegetation. The island is lush! This is the first place I have ever visited where you really do feel like people live amongst the wild vegetation where they’re intruders. Banana trees, coconut trees, every kind of palm tree, eucalyptus and bamboo species you can think of, green vines, and brown, all dressed up in blooms, like Christmas trees, are everywhere. It didn’t matter that we got lost in the “poorer areas” of Honolulu (I am sure this expression is relative – nothing here seems to be less than $1mil)  – every shack was surrounded by gorgeous tropical greenery. I think landscape architects are non-existent in Hawaii. It looks like the island will grow around every abode, every car, every bridge into the water, everything. This is, truly, breathtaking.

All the pictures I have taken show this amazing richness of vegetation, and we never went to a botanical garden – it’s things we shot while walking around the island. Actually, I did see a couple of brown street signs for botanical gardens, and I told myself: “OK! Hawaii, now, you’re just showing off!. Why would you need a botanical garden in this?!”

What Hawaii isn’t …

Incredibly, over the top expensive.

The gas was $2.85 in Utah when we left. It was $3.94 in Honolulu. I was expecting it to be at least double, but only a dollar more. Yes, there are higher than Utah prices, but I have been more shocked by prices in Seattle and New York than I have been by the ones in Honolulu! You can eat street food everywhere and in small restaurants, unknown to tripadvisor, which are amazingly good and fresh, and you’d spend about the same amount as anywhere else in small town America. The best food we had, I think, was at this Thai Restaurant (Siam Square), and the price for an entrée was around $10-13, for dinner, which is what we pay in Provo, UT, as well. Yes, there are extremely expensive places, too (and we did dine at Morimoto Waikiki, for comparison), but so are everywhere else in the nation.

Sometimes, Hawaii gets a reputation of being a tourist trap, a place where you pay for everything, where they try to squeeze every little penny from you. At one of the largest flea markets in Hawaii, the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet, most of the vendors don’t accept credit cards at all. It’s all cash. I feel more trapped for spending in the Salt Lake Farmers’ Market where everyone accepts plastic for any amount of purchase, than I did on Oahu! A place that would be interested in robbing you blind would accommodate any type of payment, I think.

What Hawaii isn’t …

American. I know, I know, you proud folks out there think I am crazy, but hear me out here. It’s not that I deny its belonging to the Union or legality at all. But I didn’t feel (outside the street sign colors and exit signs) like I was in America at all. Everyone outside of the tourists like me is either Hawaiian or … Japanese. Just looking at people in the street, you’ll see at least 4 Japanese persons for every white or Hawaiian individual, and that is probably an understatement. All the menus in restaurants are in English and Japanese. The Caucasian trolley drivers speak both English and Japanese and outside of maybe two waitresses, we didn’t run into any white staff at all for the whole stay in Oahu. Everyone we talked to had an accent and looked foreign. Everyone.

The whole island felt very exotic, and not very American at all.

What Hawaii is …

A true melting pot of cultures, architecture, foods and people. Out of all the things that will stay with me from these islands, diversity and richness of cultures is definitely one of them. We have seen Buddhist temples, right along with Hindu practicing folks (judging by bumper stickers), “Iglesia Ni Cristo” – a Christian church with services in Pilipino, even a Greek Orthodox church about 5 minutes from our hotel in Waikiki Beach. It’s a beautiful mélange of all cultures, rites and traditions – all coexisting together in absolute harmony. I missed that so much, where I live now. It’s a beautiful reminder, especially nowadays, than harmony can happen peacefully and gracefully.

We did not make it to the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC), because I have very little patience for “theme parks”. But if you visit the Bishop Museum, in Honolulu, which I highly recommend, you will learn about the rich history of this nation, about where from they come and how they found these lonely islands, in the middle and near nothing else, how they settled and developed them pretty much alone, over the centuries, how their monarchs, men and women alike, were culturally rich, intelligent people and how they welcomed diplomacy before anything else when developing relationships with the US and other countries of the world. I think America is this much richer, and hopefully the Mainland will travel and learn one or two things from these island folks, along the lines of tolerance, respect and love.

The PCC, as the name shows it, is a park where Polynesian culture, which is close, geographically, to Hawaii and has influenced Hawaiian culture, over time, is recreated in the way people dress, dance, eat and live (in re-enactments).

Dinner at Gyu-Kaku BBQ Restaurant was one of those out-of-place experiences. The whole place made us feel like we stepped through a time or a space trap, into Japan. It started with the name, that I still have to think about to remember, which is evidently very foreign and told us nothing of what it offers, really. The staff, was all Japanese, and we and 3 other people in there were the only white-looking folks in an over crowded joint. The furniture, the pagoda-looking booths, and sake bottles labeled in Japanese mounted on wall shelves looked very outlandish. We felt lost, but so good, because we knew we were getting an experience we have never had before, anywhere else in The States. Every 2 seats came with our own gas grill, where we would cook everything for our meal ourselves, outside of our rice, which came already steamed.

The meats were fresh and the veggies came wrapped in foil, and seasoned, ready to grill. Everything was fresh and well soaked in various marinades of garlic, ginger and sesame oil. If the chicken was not done, we had only ourselves to blame.

As hot as Hawaii was, many restaurants and stores didn’t have the A/C running. This place was one of those. With two dozen gas grills on and cooking, it only had ceiling fans working, and people soaking in sweat. They like their island breeze in most of the establishments around Honolulu. Very un-American, if you asked me.

What Hawaii isn’t …

Cheesy. Beach resorts especially get a reputation of cheese, dirt, and overpriced t-shirts. Hawaii shouldn’t. Yes, you have gifts and beachwear stores, much like you would expect, but every one of them is clean, with even (instead of sunken and dingy) floors that don’t squeak, and neatly organized shelves. I have never seen so many beach stores where food and drinks are not allowed, as I have seen in Hawaii.

What Hawaii is …

Artsy and tasteful. Hawaii has a long history of beautiful wood workings. At every corner, you will see unique and beautifully carved benches, tables, paddles and surf boards, gorgeous balcony railings and wall panels. If you ever visit Oahu, take a ride towards Turtle Bay, onto the North Shore, and stop in Haleiwa, a small community on Kamehameha Highway. There are several art galleries full with local art, anything from paintings, photography, to blown glass and embroidery. Local scenes, people, flora and fauna are frozen in these handmade beauties. They are not cheap, of course, but just strolling through them will open and inspire your mind and heart and will give you a glimpse of Hawaii through the eyes of artists.

What Hawaii isn’t …

Scary, dangerously wild. This was my fear before I went there, at least – that there will be some species of snakes and reptiles, along with wild boars and monkeys that will eat me alive, and I won’t even know how to explain to the ER what bit me or tried to kill me!

But much to my surprise, outside an elusive ocean snake that lives solely in the Pacific, there are no snakes at all on Hawaii! Mosquitoes are about the only thing that “attacked” us. We hiked in the rain forest, and there was no ant to be seen, no spiders (although they’re out there, I am sure!), no monkeys. Lots of beautiful, exotic birds, but nothing much else.

What Hawaii is …

“Wild” (as in “natural”, not as in “untamed animals”) life is very much part of the every day life, I would say – as everything is so very close on the Island. We hiked the rain forest of Manoa Falls, and it seemed like the trail was in the middle of this very residential and quiet neighborhood with cats and chickens running around the parking lot.

The hike was gorgeous – very green and incredibly rich in vegetation. Plants that my family and I have grown only indoors on the Mainland, are here plenty, and unbothered to be outside. Blooms we normally wait for years to see on our indoor plans are here everywhere, and seemingly grow like weeds.

Outside birds and a mouse as big as maybe an apple, we saw no creatures. Of course, except for the mosquitoes which bit us despite the Off! we used all over our exposed skin.

A short drive of only 20-30 minutes from Waikiki Beach will put you in the heart of the Ko’olau Mountains, and they are breathtaking. Like no mountain I have ever seen before, they spring straight up, with almost a perfect 90 degree incline, from the sea level. Not one square inch of them is bare – they are clad in a thick coat of lush green. They are majestic and mysterious, as I cannot imagine anyone able to climb something so steep. The mix of urbanism and wilderness is what Oahu is, in my mind.

What Hawaii isn’t …

All beach, fun, escapism, and no substance. I have always heard people talk only about the paddle boarding, snorkeling and expensive sunset cruises when going to Hawaii. Even when I got back, the first question out of people’s mouths when they find I out I went to Hawaii is “oh, cool! What Island? And which beach did you go snorkel at?”

Hawaii was all snorkeling and dipping into waterfall pools for me, before I went there.

Those places exist, don’t get me wrong, but for people like me who don’t like water that much and can’t swim, those places are no attraction.

And  the only place we saw a waterfall pool had signs all around it warning people not to dip in the water, and speaking of falling rocks’ dangers.

What Hawaii is …

For us, outside the water fun all around which people seem to be enjoying, Hawaii was a place imbued with history. Not only the very popular and renowned, so important for the history of the World, Pearl Harbor, but the local history museums are great escapes into a past that is rich and extremely well documented. I already mentioned The Bishop Museum, but the Iolani Castle (which was booked for months in advance!) and the US Army Museum are places I would recommend as well. I take history where it is, and where it happens, not only when I go to Europe or Washington, DC … And Hawaii is not poor in historic sites.

What Hawaii isn’t …

“You can hear music in the air” is what I used to hear. I imagined Hawaii a place where at every street corner, you’d find a hula dancer, much like in New Orleans, you find a zydeco band in every bar.

But that is, unfortunately, another myth. Outside of a three person band (two guys playing ukulele, and one woman singing backup, with plumeria in her hair and curvy hips) that played for exactly one hour on a patio bar, on the shore, one night, I heard no Hawaiian music whatsoever in one week of being in Oahu. Yes, there are restaurants who will charge you a fee for the all Hawaiian experience, complete with roasted pork and hula dancers, but impromptu Hawaiian music “in the air”, at every corner – not so much. Traffic noise, sure. Music – I couldn’t hear it.

There is something very peaceful and very quiet, and very fresh, even, about the Pacific Ocean around Oahu. Unlike The Atlantic, which is almost angry and roaring with fury, The Pacific is calm and patient. Maybe not everywhere, but definitely around this island. We enjoyed many a nights just drinking and having finger foods on the patio at The Edge off Waikiki, watching the sun set and the catamarans taking people into the dimming horizon. The swishy music of the waves is the only music I will forever associate with Hawaii. That and the song of the many colorful birds which sing in peculiar and foreign tones in every bush.

What “myths” aren’t myths …

We heard that everyone in Hawaii greets you with “Aloha” (after all, they call themselves the ‘Aloha State’) and appreciates you for your business with “Mahalo”. And that one is true! I felt cheesy saying them back, in the beginning, but everyone is so friendly and they sound so natural saying these two greetings that by the time we left, we finally said them right back, promptly.

“Shave ice” is everywhere. This one is also true. And it’s advertised as typed: “shave”. It’s in bars, restaurants, on the beach, at the beach stores, in the ABC Stores, in the streets at a mobile cart – everywhere! So are the mai-tais. They are not even on menus, but if you ask for one, they will make you one, everywhere.

Pineapple comes from Hawaii. This definitely feels true, here! There is, of course, the Dole Plantation, which advertizes themselves as the “Pineapple Experience” and they sell, well, everything pineapple, including, ice-cream. But every restaurant has pineapple glaze on their meats and dressings, and deserts, and fresh bowls of fruit, with a bed of pineapple to start. It is, for sure, the sweetest, and freshest pineapple I have ever tasted. You can buy pineapple candy and pineapple dressed in chocolate even, in every ABC store.

And fruit, in general, is more plenty, more exotic, more fresh and more sweet than anywhere else I have been in the world.

What I will call “Hawaii” for the rest of my life …

The calm waters of the Pacific ocean, bathing the sandy beaches of Oahu … The happy marriage between the wild, exotic, unruly vegetation , the eerie dreamy landscape wrapped in misty, 100% humidity clouds  and modern, urban, decayed, busy big city … The sweetness of pineapple … The multicolored tapestry of cultures, religions, art media, races and histories … The plumeria and hibiscus photo ops at every street corner …Green geckos, perched on every bush …  The best pulled pork sandwiches in the world, nothing but smoke and lean meat, soaked in pineapple glaze …The tiki torches that light up the island every night... The Hawaiian shirts floating around in the breeze, everywhere ...

We kept chasing, desperately and hopelessly, the iconic Hawaiian rainbow  that you see in every commercial and movie, with people bathing under waterfalls crowned by it. It is so specific of Hawaii, it’s even on their license plates. We never did find it.

We never did find the Paradise everyone is talking about (shouldn’t Paradise have at least one snake in it?! Hmmm …) and we never did want to move there. We felt truly remote. In the more than 6 hour flight solely over the Ocean, I felt like I was going into an exile and there was apprehension about the journey, not relief. I joked that if we were to crash, no one would even bother looking for us, much less be able to find us.

They told me that the series Lost was filmed on the North- Western Shore of Oahu, and just like in Lost, we kept wondering where in the world we are?! Because when you’re there, you make your own rules of where you are, as everyone else’s input is not so true, or so we found. You feel, with every pore of your body, a different air, a different temperature, a different smell than anything anyone else tells you about before you land.

There is one thing, and one thing for sure, that will always and forever stay with me, as a purely Hawaiian trait, and that is … the people. They are some of the most friendly, generous, courteous, loving, patient and helpful people I have ever seen in my life. I heard no one argue, or being snappy. Every time we asked for directions, or help, at the hotel, for instance, everyone gave us complete, very well documented answers, and everyone did so with a smile and kindness.

I felt oftentimes that the people I came across with, the wait staff, the bus drivers, the ticket box attendants, are the poorest people in Hawaii. Against houses that were listed for $2 mil to start everywhere we went, these simple looking and behaving folks were in stark contrast. In the middle of the expensive Waikiki Beach, where a pork sandwich sells for $15 alone, the little old lady at the Seaside Bar and Grill was making a living, when she should have been home cradling grandchildren, perhaps. But they were always the most gentle and composed people around, too.

They are people that know no snow, and no harshness They are as warm as the air in the rain forest – soft and binding. They are people who know the rage of lava and monsoons, as well as the whispers of the Pacific ocean hitting the shores. They move as slow and as graceful as the sea turtles sometimes, and they are as sharp as the peaks of the Ko’olau Mountains.

Although in the beginning it felt unnatural and cheesy, in the very end, if there is one thing that I will miss the most about Hawaii, is hearing the beautiful “Mahalo!” from these folks. In a world that is often too rushed, and too paranoid to be humane anymore, the Hawaiian people, with their various heritages, will remain in my heart as a solid island of smiles, internal beauty, patience and class. 

 

The yellow hibiscus is the Hawaiian state flower. Click on the image to view the complete album from this trip. It's not a slim one, but I believe it's worth it. Enjoy!

Food so Good (and Much) It’s Stupid

The gist of this entry ...

Why I do it, it’s beyond me! I have done it, probably since I was a kid, and I still learn no better as I grow older. I think, to some degree, the majority of us do it. We all eat at least one meal a year that we just let abuse us! We can’t and won’t and should stop eating it! Just one more mouthful, we say. Just one. After another. And yet another. Against our better judgments and our feeling of misery as we eat more …

Yesterday, I was craving “exotic” food. That, for me, means anything that I have not had in a long while, or anything that is not meat and potatoes. It means anything that has some foreign flavors (usually Asian). I was also craving lots and lots of it. So much, in fact, till my stomach would just expand! Don’t ask me why I was in such a destructive mood – I just was.

So, after a crappy week (yeah, I know – this was the cause of the mood, right?! - maybe), we headed to where else but the capital of all gourmand-ry of the world - the Japanese steakhouse. You know, one of those places where “they cook in front of you” and they feed you till you throw up. Literally.

The meals are overpriced, but the dishes keep coming, so how can you complain?! They come with a salad, and a soup, and rice and meats of your choice and veggies, and … after three changes of plates you feel how your pants are gonna explode and you’ll be left in public, butt naked and covered in chewed up rice and meat! And you loosen your belt and keep shoveling. Till you can hardly walk!

And it all is soooo tasty! All fresh, off the grill and hot, and how can you stop?! Why should you, right?! You’re paying your sh^tty week’s paycheck for it, after all? Eat up!

Some of the people around our table ordered “the house special” which included three meats, two appetizers and a dessert. We all needed stretchers after that, seriously! That is self-killing by eating!

I could hardly stand up after that. I drove home in pain, plopped myself on the couch, took a handful of Tums and felt like an idiot! Was the taste even worth feeling so miserable?! Who cares,when you have a craving! Will I stop half way before throwing up next time? Probably not.

Maybe this was just a practice run for the trip to Romania we have scheduled this year. Because eat-Tums-bathroom-repeat is what the 2 weeks in the motherland will be like.

I think the human body has an amazing ability to forget pain. So the stomach ache that ensued, the self loathe, the heavy feeling dragging me down, the sleepless night will be long forgotten by the time the next “let’s-eat-ourselves-silly-on-exotic-food” will strike again. I make no promises for the future. But right now, I am off to the treadmill, for a repentance run and an apology to my hips!

A Sip of This, a Bite of That ...

A journey through Northern California

California has haunted me for most of my life. I have always wanted to go see it, but I guess I share that dream with a lot of folks.

Growing up, all I knew about America was California and Dallas. OK, MAYBE The Statue of Liberty, but it was not till probably in first or second grade that I knew that was in New York. Everything, to me, was in California. California and America were perfect synonyms. What?! They are not one and the same country?! Well, as I have discovered in this last trip – they are very much not the same country. Most times, anyway.

We started off on a Saturday, on a road trip towards the Western state. On I-80 West of Salt Lake City things are flat. And salty. The Salt Flats fit their name to a tee. Yes, I did have to jump out of the car and taste the soil, just to make sure all that whiteness is salt. It is. The huge mountains of salt being harvested from basins on the side of the roads testify to that also.

Onward through Nevada we had again that Dorothy-like, deserted feeling we experienced in Kansas this year: lost. Just vast lands, big sky and nothing much more than dust. One would tell you that there are only two colors, yellow and blue, for the sand and the sky, but there are so many shades of those colors your eyes hurt! I guess if Eskimos have 100 words for “white” (or is it “snow”?!), Nevadans should have 100 words for “yellow”. In Nevada, because of wide spaces and infinite horizons, you get to see the beauty in the simplicity of the desert. The vegetation is scarce, but the land is vast and overwhelmingly present.

Once you cross the border in California, you literally feel like you are in a different country. People drive faster, traffic thickens and roads are horribly, horribly worse than anywhere else I have ever been. The landscape is different, too: lots of pine trees and junipers are now adorning the sides of the rocky mountains everywhere. Whereas in Nevada the dimension is horizontal, in Northern California you flip your vision by 90 degrees to vertical: there is only one way the eye can look, and that is up, from the winding, narrow valleys of the highways and you see the blue skies. Everything is close up and personal there!

We planned to make Napa Valley our main base for the short stay, and travel around it, for wine, food, sightseeing and photo opportunities, and of course people watching. I guess I can safely say we accomplished all that. We spent a couple of days winery touring, one day in San Francisco and on our way home, we stopped in South Lake Tahoe (for some WEIRD reason my tongue continues to call it “Lake Taco”) for lunch and lots of photos. It was a beautiful journey, one that I hope I can make another day, a little less rushed, and a little bit longer, so I can see all the beautiful adjacent places to these spots we saw this time.

A few travel notes for next time and for those interested in following in our footsteps.

Food in Napa and around is amazing. Yes, we did spend a bit more for food, because this was a special occasion for us, but even when we didn’t, when we stopped at a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, food tasted delicious. We had lunch at Armadillo's, in St. Helena, a Fresh Mexican food place, and it was like nothing I have ever tasted before! All the ingredients tasted like what they were not like melted cheese under a broiler.

The resorts do a fantastic job of cooking everything gourmet and everything familiar with a gourmet twist. Some of my favorite finds were the cold corn and lime soup at Solbar at the Solage Resort in Calistoga, as well as the herb French fries at Siena, the restaurant at Meritage, in Napa, our home for the trip. Now, two words of caution here: Solbar changes their menu daily, so the soup might be a one day event there, but everything they do is out of this world, so, you're in luck anyway. Siena (our “own” restaurant) has absolutely horrible service for dinners, from what we have experienced. Morning service was OK, but dinners – not so much. Unless you planned to spend at least two and a half hours for dinner and 30 minutes waiting for someone to show up to take your order, I would not recommend Siena. All I could figure was: well, they have you there! You stay there, you come in for dinner because you probably are too tired (or too tipsy) to drive anywhere else, they can make you wait forever – where else would you go?! Definitely below par from what you expect from a highly rated resort.

I WILL have to say one word (OK, maybe several!) about Morimoto Napa Restaurant. For those of you who watch Iron Chef America, you know who Masaharu Morimoto is: he’s this Japanese “iron chef”, one of the original “iron chefs” from the original Japanese show by the same name. You will see him cook on the American version of the show, and as one of our friends put it “he is the one who is always perfect”.

He has a restaurant he owns in Napa . I am not too sure how this whole thing works, whether he comes up with the menu, or ever cooks it, or supervises the chefs through video conference from New York, or even has anything to do with anything in there at all other than putting his name on the place and grabbing a check every month. Not sure how much of Morimoto is involved in the food is what I am saying. But the foods on the menu are pretty close to the tradition he’s cooking in: Japanese, lots of fish, fresh ingredients, original pairings of flavors.

The dinner we had there was definitely an experience of a lifetime! We looked around and no two plates looked alike! Every food had its own kind of plate or bowl, various colors to complement the foods, and various shapes. I had a crème brulee that had blueberries and Earl Grey tea in it, and lemongrass ice cream on top. Now, lemongrass is something you eat in your fried rice dishes, or your glass noodle Thai soup, as a veggie … The whole thing was exploding with flavors and just melting in my mouth. And I hate desserts, mind you! But this was not a dessert. It was a journey.

I had to have some sushi, as Morimoto describes himself as a sushi chef, primarily. I had flying fish roe and then king crab sushi – fresh, sea-like and simple! My fried rice and yellow tail came in this 400F Dutch oven kind of bowl – everything in the bowl was uncooked, except for the rice – the waitress cooked everything in front of me by mixing everything together and allowing every bite to touch the hot walls of the bowl– it was sooo fresh when I tasted it! There were ingredients in there I never had in fried rice before: mushrooms, nori, spinach all “fried” in sesame oil. Again, the rainbow of flavors was amazing: the salty fish with the woodsy mushrooms and the green spinach, the sweet sesame oil and again salty, sort of pickled nori – your mouth didn’t know where to go to describe it all!

My husband had a ginger and peach “martini” that was pretty boozy and surprisingly tasty, for ginger, in my opinion. He also had miso soup and pork chops with kimchi and ginger – in he Japanese tradition of perfect balance, they balance heavier meats (pork) with a smaller, leaner side (kimchi). In an American restaurant, you’d get pork chops AND potatoes AND fried onions on top! His dessert was tofu cheesecake with maple and coffee reduction sauce and maple ice cream. The cheesecake was like chewing on air – so light!

We didn’t have any bad service to speak of at Morimoto’s – the place runs like a scientific experiment – we were waited on by several people and we were showered with attention, although the place was incredibly full! The décor is something else too, but I don’t want to take too much longer here, so, just, please … visit the pictures .

The wine, of course, is plenty in Napa. And that is all I am going to say in the adjective department. Wine, much like any taste derivative, is a personal choice. And my mom always said don’t ever argue about taste! And I won’t. Some wine was good and some was not so good. To us. Some of the wineries we visited were: Domaine Carneros (my first “sparkling wine” winery), Artesa, Folie a Deux and Napa Cellars, Sutter Home, Freemark Abbey, V. Sattui, Joseph Phelps.

I have read a lot before I headed out there, but unfortunately not before we booked the trip: they tell you that Sonoma is a white and sweet wine place (more South, longer summers), and Napa is a red wine place, and a dry wine region – for the most part. Of course, there are various things to be found in both. But yes, they are right: Napa is predominantly “red”. We are mostly sweet white wine drinkers. OK, we’ll give a Riesling and a Pinot Grigio a try once in a while, but we like our “Kool-Aid” on the lines of Muscats and Ottonels . Sutter Homes and V. Sattui had the sweetest Muscat wines, the most perfumy ever! And thus we tasted the difference between Moscato, which is what you can typically find in any grocery store in America (well, except Utah, of course), and Muscat, which is what I grew up with, back home: fuller body, in the sugary content. All grapes, sun and deliciousness!

At Joseph Phelps we had a beautiful surprise because their grounds were by far the most serene and spectacular: just simple, quiet beauty. We were there on Harvest Day, September 7, and they were all looking forward to a wonderful new season, as these folks really get into their trade. The winery is by far the most upscale, and most "technical" of all of the ones we saw - not for the pleasure drinker, for sure: they talk about their wines in “points” and percentage of wines that make a blend. And they offer private tastings with a wine specialist in this beautiful, all wood tasting room. Definitely “up a notch”.

They are off the beaten path of the Hwy 29, but so worth the short trip. Whereas all the wines were anywhere between $5 and $25 at all the other wineries, Phelps’s bottles started at $45 and stopped at $225. They make mainly Bordeaux style wines, Merlots, and Cabs, very “full body” some say … but to us, they are “full of chalk”. And yes, I said that to them, and of course they stopped paying attention to me.

I personally don’t believe in the absolute in wine! There is no such thing as an absolutely great wine. I think it is such a subjective matter of palate and taste that you cannot tell me a full body Cab is the best wine ever produced and a fully aromatic Muscat or a perfectly balanced and smooth Pinot Gris is junk! Because what makes a wine great, after all, if not the taster?! I believe strongly that wine, just like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.

Phelps also reminded me that price has nothing to do with what you like, either. If it brings you pleasure and you only spend $.50 on it, more power to you, I say! A $225 bottle tasted worse, to me, than any $5 bottle of Muscat I ever bought.
Beautiful place, though. Definitely worth the trip, for the grounds, the trellis work and the largest wisteria in the world hanging off of it. Just don’t mention their wine is chalky if you want to make friends!

I think the funniest memory I’ll have from the wine journey will be the fact that when sales people were asking us where we’re from at the wineries, and we said Utah, they would make this very sad face and add “Oh, I am SO sorry!” – because they knew about our silly alcohol rules up here. But I will have to say, we got out of being upsold on memberships and “wine clubs” by telling them “hey, we’re from Utah, you can’t ship alcohol there”. And they can’t. And they were bummed. And we weren’t. Although the Muscat from Sutter Home would make my day every time it would arrive in the mail! For sure.

And speaking of Sutter Home – they also have beautiful grounds, although on Hwy 29, smack dab in the middle of traffic! They have the most gorgeous gardens. And that’s the thing about California: the vegetation is amazing! You get thousands and thousands of acres of vineyards, of course, but then you get olive orchards, and orange trees and lime trees and bushes, and lemon trees, and pomegranates, and palm trees and cactuses, and … pine trees …and what NOT?! It’s beautiful, and diverse, and lush green and fresh! The roads leave a lot to be desired, for sure, but what a delight for the eyes the hills are!

Till you get to San Francisco that is! Well, maybe I am once again biased here! You see, I am not a big city girl! I am one of those people who’ll tell you that NYC is “great to visit but not to live in”. Same thing in San Francisco! Man, what a zoo! And yes, surely: part of the zoo was the fact that we drove into it on Labor Day (Monday) and the place was abuzz with tourists, but part of it is just San Francisco: traffic, and more traffic, and pushy merchants, and crazy hills to drive on, and no parking and … metropolitan jungle at its worst! And I said nothing about the tourists everywhere – because the only other place I ever saw that many tourists, their bikes, go carts, kids, strollers, dogs and funky fashion styles was in New Orleans. Very colorful!

We had lunch at Lolli’s Castagnola’s in the Fisherman’s Wharf, and we had the world’s weirdest waitress serving us. We were perfectly sober, but we could not tell whether she (“Jennifer”) was a man or a woman, nor whether she was sober, drunk or high … She was something else … She started by saying she will make us “the world’s best Long Island Ice Tea”, as she is a world renowned, award winning bartender first, and a waitress next. And everything after that was “the best”, “the mostest” that we ever had, according to her … She had to “flirt with the chef for extra shrimps on my sandwich” and that alone almost killed my appetite. The seafood we had was definitely fresh, but not spectacularly cooked. The Long Island Ice Tea, however, was apparently amazing, according to my husband who did take her up on the offer.

We took a boat tour of the San Francisco Bay, and floated by The Golden Gate and Alcatraz Island, and just peeked, away in the distance, at the San Francisco – Oakland Bridge. I always love bay cruises, because they put things into perspective for you. I do enjoy riding through a city (or walking it, like we did a bit, too) to get a feel of what that city is, but I love seeing it from afar, too. After all, when you see postcards from New York, San Francisco, Chicago, etc – it’s always some skyline shot from some body of water, isn’t it?! So, seeing it in real life for yourself kind of gives you the feeling of “Wow! I have made it there!”.

The bay tour was great, I thought. Gave us perspective and a nice, relaxing way to look AT the city. And they don’t call it “the Fog City” for nothing! It IS foggy! All our pictures can tell you that! We didn’t visit Alcatraz, but I was shocked by the amount of decay we could see from the boat. I visited Ellis Island, and I was moved at how everything looked like it must have been many years ago, when it was a working island. I don’t know the history of Alcatraz that well, so I am not sure why it could not be preserved, but … it felt very depressing, and not just because of the fact that it’s a prison island. It felt like staring into a skeleton.

On our last day, we drove back home through Lake Tahoe. And what a beautiful trip back home that was! The Tahoe area is gorgeous. I am not sure how else to put it – but it’s just one of those places you just NEED to go to before you die! It’s beautiful mountain landscape at its best – breathtaking, raw and wild. Between the simple and tall beauty of the pine trees and redwoods, and the bareness of the rocks and the clear of the lake, you don’t know where to look for simple amazement!

The California part is nice and landscape - coordinated, all log cabins and stonework. No building almost violates the beauty of the land. You cross over into Lake Tahoe-Nevada, though, and as my husband said “you get lots of cheese in a hurry” – casino signs and billboards out of this world!

Nevertheless, the beauty of the mountains and the lake endures, and no human cheese can really temper that!

We had lunch at an Irish Pub and just drove along the shore of the lake for pictures. We stopped in the canyons for more photo opps, of course! It was like an extra breath of fresh air (in more ways, literal and not) before our long and relatively boring drive through Nevada, back home. But as any traveler will tell you: any corner of the world reserves a surprise, and we were lucky enough to once again be speechless when we almost found the “pot of gold” in the desert . Must have been that Irish blessing we got at the pub in Tahoe.

We loved our trip, and if we were to do it again, we would do it in a heart beat! We would like to go back to Tahoe right away, just for a longer weekend, or so … California was naturally gorgeous, but humanly weird, I guess. People are not friendly. They are always in a rush, and always want to sell something. Whatever it is about Napa, they’re trying to sell you on two things: wine and spas! And they’re really pushy! The roads are horrible and in a state with toll roads and 9% taxes I am not sure why they can’t fix them … The overpopulation feeling definitely kicks in in California. I come from North Carolina which does seem more crowded than Utah, but California is like Time Square at the size of a state. OK! I have not seen the whole state of California, but everything between Sacramento, San Francisco, and Tahoe is way too tight, population wise.

Another characteristic of the area is that there is a lot of “green initiatives” – more than I have seen in any other states: lots of solar panels on the houses, traffic lights, wineries, lots of windmill power, lots of “green” in restaurants (no ice, tap water, real, cotton towels to be reused, etc).

Like anywhere in the Southwest, there is a huge Hispanic influence here – and that was actually one of my favorite features! All our Hispanic waiters and waitresses were by far the best, friendliest and worked hardest. Just a side note, but an important one to me, when I will look back!

The small Western towns are a gem, if you can navigate the traffic to get into them. Old buildings, and lots of live oaks and palm trees. Nice houses, sort of Mediterranean in architecture, with overgrown gardens that offered much needed shade and privacy. These settlings are an oasis of small town feel in the middle of madness. St. Helena and Yountville were very quaint and quiet.

And what is California without star sightings, right?! So, apart from being in an internationally renowned chef’s restaurant, we also were seated at the table next to Tyler Florence , another chef, and his entourage, when we dined at Solbar. I will not go into the details of our eavesdropping, but suffice it to say, the conversations involved cooking with “aromatic herbs”, the kind some people in Amsterdam smoke. Or so I thought I heard.

It was definitely a fast forward trip, with the long drive and the not many (five) days we spent there. But it was an experience in more ways than one: cultural, culinary, oenological, geographical and definitely psychological!

I cannot find a better ending to this than the statement my husband summarized California in: “The experts have determined that Pluto is no longer a planet. California is in no danger of such a re-classification - it is a planet unto itself.”

Just GO! It’s worth it! And remember to take a camera, too. This way, you’ll end up with 2000+ pictures, like we did. Enjoy some of them here .