November Explorations

I’ve been very lazy on the blogging front yet again. So much has happened in the last month! We have a shiny new president, for one thing! Now, the thought of the Palin woman being just a “heartbeat away” from arguably the world’s most responsible job seems like a distant nightmare. We had a friend around for dinner that evening, so weren’t concentrating on the TV, but I remember hearing the whoop of joy erupt in a nearby apartment as Obama passed the 270 electoral vote mark. What a great day for America! Whatever your politics (and I do know the odd Republican sympathiser), the country now has an intelligent, eloquent front-man that world leaders are lining up to work with. That has to be a good thing, even though he has a very tough job ahead of him. Talking of presidents, a few weeks ago, we saw the new film, “W” at the cinema (about George W. himself, who else?!). Very entertaining, but a little facile in its approach, portraying Bush as a largely innocent dummy who was misled by family and advisors. I don’t buy the idea of him being either that dumb or that innocent, myself, but at least his era will soon be over.

November also brought us a heat-wave. Two weekends ago, I was sunbathing on the beach, enjoying some of the most pleasant temperatures San Francisco has to offer. We topped it off by heading out into the balmy evening on the Alcatraz Night Tour. We had lovely views of the city and bridges from the ferry, then alighted on the island, where we did a very good audio tour and went to a talk about the Birdman. The spookiest bit by far was the hospital wing (coincidentally, where the Birdman had his cell), which was lonely and empty, but for the odd piece of outdated medical equipment, looking for all the world like something out of a horror film. I’d been to Alcatraz before, but that was back in 1999, so I hadn’t visited since moving out here.

We’d had a good few weekends without leaving the city, so I was ready to go somewhere. We decided on a mini-break in Zion National Park and Las Vegas. I’d heard good things about Zion, a “mere” 150 miles from Las Vegas, and we’d recently seen the film “21”, about a group of MIT students who make and lose their fortune playing Blackjack, so we fancied a bit of Vegas action, having only spent an evening there previously, when we went to the Grand Canyon in April. This time, as then, we had the experience of driving to/from the most fake place imaginable to one of world’s most lovely natural landscapes. Zion was a delight – kind of like a red rock Yosemite.

We did a couple of short walks on our first day, one up to the Emerald Pools, the last one of which stops sharp against a huge 1000 foot or more vertical wall of rock. The second was up to a viewpoint a little above the canyon, with vistas of Mount Watchman and the increasingly red hues of the rocks. We set off mid-afternoon (or so I thought), convinced that it would get dark later here, since we were some way south of San Francisco. Of course, I didn’t stop to think that we were actually a fair way to the east, and I also failed to realise that we’d crossed a time zone (Zion is in Utah), and were actually an hour ahead. By the time we got back down from the viewpoint, it was dark, and we startled a mule deer along the path. We made our way swiftly to our accommodation, Zion Lodge, and settled in for the night as the temperatures dropped to a surprisingly chilly level.

Our second day began with a huge breakfast. It was healthy, but enormous. Mine consisted of four immense whole-grain flaxseed pancakes the size of dinner plates and at least half an inch thick, with a berry compote. It was a good job we’d planned to do a fairly decent hike that day. The walk took us relentlessly upwards to a narrow monolith above the canyon with steep drop-offs on either side. The last half mile is really a scramble, using hands almost as much as feet, pulling oneself along by the chains strung along the ridge. People had warned me that it was very scary, but I’m fortunate in not being a vertigo-sufferer, and found it to be no problem at all. The views up and down the canyon were stunning. We were also rewarded with the sighting of a California Condor, the largest land bird in North America (wingspan can be up to 9½ feet) and one of the rarest birds in the world. S/he landed on a rock just a few feet away and posed for a good few photos. Later, we saw him/her soaring past the walls of the canyon, far below. As for us, we hadn’t had enough walking (the hike up to Angel’s Landing and back is strenuous, but only five miles round-trip), so we continued a bit further and found a quiet, sunny lunch spot with splendid views. Before we left the park, we had chance to visit the Weeping Rock, a wall that seeps droplets of water that have run through the porous rock until they reach harder stuff and are forced to dispense themselves. It was then time for the long, monotonous drive back to Sin City.

We were staying at the Bellagio, probably Las Vegas’ most exclusive casino-hotel, but because we were there out of season and on week nights, it was really good value – less than half the price it would be on a high-season weekend. The room didn’t disappoint – a plush marble-floored bathroom with an immense shower and a huge, tastefully decorated bedroom with electrically operated curtains and a view out onto the Tuscan-style pool area. It also features a gorgeous reception area with a glass ceiling by Chihuly (this is the guy whose smallest glass bowls fetch $3,000 – $4,000), a conservatory with regularly changing themes (at this time of year it was harvest and pumpkins) and a dazzling array of fancy restaurants and shops, but still the same old tacky casino area, of course. At half-hour intervals it also offers impressive fountain displays over the huge artificial lake at the front.

The first night, we went to a Cirque du Soleil show, then slept in the next morning and partook of a tasty – if pricey – breakfast down at the café. We then headed out to the pool area and relaxed for a couple of hours on the sun deck, taking the occasional swim. By mid-afternoon, it was turning chilly, however, so we headed across the road to take a look at another casino-hotel, Paris, then made for the one next to ours, the Roman-themed Caesar’s Palace, complete with its own “Fontana di Trevi”, and more reminiscent of modern than ancient Rome. That evening, we dined at the Michelin-starred Michael Mina restaurant in our hotel, which was truly exquisite. I was especially delighted with the way they offered trios of dishes in one – perfect for me, who wants to try everything on the menu. After dinner, we had a go at one of the Blackjack tables. Things started well, and we were soon $20 up. After that, things didn’t go quite so well, and we came away half an hour later with our tails between our legs.

On our last day, I had a quick swim in the morning, then we had crêpes for breakfast at a patisserie with the largest chocolate fountain in the world, before heading up the Strip to take a look at the Venetian, a very elaborate casino-hotel themed around Venice. It had its own Rialto Bridge, Ducal Palace, Grand Canal and Piazza San Marco, including a huge array of exclusive shops. We took a look around the Peter Lik photo gallery (= store) – he’s a photographer who takes wonderful landscape shots, many of which covering places we’d visited in the States. However, I’m pretty sure I overheard someone saying one of the larger pieces was $49,000. That didn’t deter the manager from pursuing us around the shop in the hope that we’d buy something, however.

The desert climate took its toll, as it did last time, on my skin and eyes, noticeably drying them out. And while Las Vegas is certainly lots of fun, I think I’d had my fill of it by the end. It’s really an absurd place. Sure, it has some glamour, but it is also tacky, materialistic and fake. However, it provided an enjoyable and much-needed getaway. We had one day back at work upon our return and now we have four days off for Thanksgiving – hurrah!

Vineyards and stuff

A couple of weekends ago, it was Jon’s work party at Wente Vineyards. This winery is not in the famous Napa Valley, nor even in Sonoma, but out in the East Bay obscurity, near Livermore. We got taken there on a coach (which Jon and I nearly missed because we couldn’t hail a taxi to take us to the departure point for love nor money, and ended up running through North Beach down to the Embarcadero – me in heels at that!) and arrived just before dark. I thought it was a shame we didn’t get there when it was still light, so that we could take in the vineyard. Anyway, we had a good feed and socialise. Afterwards, Jon and I met and chatted to the chef at the bar, who was a nice chap and a big admirer of Gordon Ramsay!

The next day, I took part in a 5km charity run organised by one of our clients, BioMarin. My colleague, Elizabeth, picked me up very early in the morning and drove over the Golden Gate up to Novato, where the run took place. It ended up not being 5km at all, but closer to 4km, since I finished in 21 minutes. I took 2nd place for my age/gender category and got a medal, which is the only thing sporting that I’ve ever won! The company did pretty well in general, as a project manager was 2nd female overall and both she and the boss’ wife were first in their respective age/gender categories, and another participant, Seth, was 2nd in his age/gender category. Back in San Francisco, Jon, Seth and I went out for a hearty breakfast at a greasy spoon in North Beach (in Jon’s case, it was well needed to cure the hangover from the night before!).

The next week was a hot one. Temperatures got up well into the eighties in the city. I walked home part of the way on the Friday night, enjoying the balmy temperature, the gorgeous views of the Bay and Alcatraz, and the joys of living in the most liberal city in America, with Obama posters all over the place and two blokes walking down the street, hand-in-hand, without anyone batting an eyelid.

The good weather carried on into the weekend, when we went on a trip to Napa Valley with some work colleagues of Jon’s. It got up to 32 Celsius over there and the place was absolutely rammed with people. We visited V. Sattui - a very pretty winery, but ridiculously crowded - and then headed to Elizabeth Spencer. Jon had done a tasting there and been very impressed last Christmas, but this year the wines were both more expensive and not as good. However, they did seat us in our own tasting tent in their pumpkin-decorated courtyard, so it wasn’t all bad. After that, we went to Domaine Chandon, a fancy, modern champagne place. It was there that Carly received a call from her uncle and promptly asked us if we’d like to head over to his vineyard. So, off we went, passing through the electric gates, up the hill and past the vines to his beautiful home. The house had an amazing kitchen and was filled with interesting art, but most importantly had a huge covered deck with fabulous views over the valley to the hills beyond. There was also a swimming pool, a fire pit built in a stone wall and an adjacent 3-bed, 2-bath guest house for friends and family! It was lovely to relax there for a while before heading back to the city. As well as vines, the estate boasts lemon and olive trees. Carly’s uncle gave us each a bottle of their home-grown olive oil when we left. I smiled as we drove past his Obama poster as we swung through the gates and onto the highway.

The days of balmy weather are now over, however, as the rain set in yesterday and it has thrown it down all day today. Strangely, however, the wild parrots have been very active and noisy all the same. Yesterday was Halloween, but I was too tired to go out in the evening, although I did spot some costumed people on my way home. Now, we’re building up to Tuesday, the great day when the world could change for the better (surely, THIS time!).

Mendocino getaway

I haven’t blogged again for three weeks – terrible! Well, here’s a quick catch-up. Two weeks ago, we had a friend from Hoddesdon to visit (Tom). On the Saturday, I went with him down to the De Young museum in Golden Gate Park to see the Chihuly exhibition. Chihuly is a glass artist who makes wonderful, colourful formations, which look fabulous lit up against a dark background. In spite of the fact that we had a timed ticket, there were still hordes of people. We spent the rest of the (very sunny) day seeing the main sights, like Alamo Square, Haight Ashbury, the Ferry Building and Pier 39 with the sealions. The next day, we weren’t so lucky with the weather, as some low fog spoilt our plans to go for hike on Point Reyes. Instead, we did a walk on the top of Mount Tam, where it was very hot above the fog layer. I managed to trip and cut a hole in my hand, but fortunately, it’s just about healed now.

Last weekend was a lazy one for the most part (for me at least) - poor Jon was revising for his maths exam, which he had last Wednesday. On the Sunday, I volunteered down at the Castro Street Fair on behalf of the organisation I used to work for, Shanti. It was good fun, but surprisingly tiring standing there for three and a half hours in the hot sunshine.

This weekend, I had booked us a cottage just south of the small coastal town of Mendocino, about 150 miles north. It was the first time we had travelled over the Golden Gate on a Friday night, and the traffic was somewhat stickier than expected. We arrived pretty late, but fortunately, the cottage managers had pinned the key outside their office. We awoke to a beautiful, sunny day on Saturday. We got up slowly, enjoying the luxury of a bacon and egg breakfast and watching hummingbirds hover around the landscaped garden, before heading out to do a hike in a small state park a little way up the coast. The walk took us up from the coast through different types of woodland to a small “pygmy forest”, where trees a hundred years old or more had only grown to a few feet due to poor soil conditions. Afterwards, we drove up to a rather uncharming town called Fort Bragg to see the so-called Glass Beach. Apparently, until about half way through the last century, people just used to dump their rubbish in the ocean there. As a result of the sea smashing against it over the years, the beach got covered in small glass pebbles. Needless to say, no one dumps their rubbish there now, and in fact it is inhabited by seals. Before heading back for a cosy evening in the cottage, we strolled down to the Point Cabrillo lighthouse, built in 1909 to service the booming post-earthquake lumber trade, then stopped in the quaint town of Mendocino itself. The town was settled by East coasters, apparently, which explains the New England style houses, perched attractively on the bluffs above lovely little coves. Nearly every shop was a gift shop, though! When we got back to the cottage complex, we were met by a rather plump English bulldog, aptly called Buddah, and his rather asthmatic French bulldog friend, which belonged to another guest. We lounged around on our little deck, taking in the ocean views before dinner.

This morning, we went for what turned out to be a fabulous run from the cottage, down to the little beach nearby and through part of Van Damme state park. We followed the appropriately named Fern Canyon up a shady creek. It was icy cold, but invigorating. Of course, we passed a couple of mountain lion warning signs along the way. Marvellous. When the activity we were engaged in was jogging – just the thing to incite a big cat’s chase instinct. However, we avoided attack and returned for another well-deserved big breakfast. We then went for a stroll on the Mendocino headland bluffs, admiring the many rock arches and natural harbours, finally wandering into the town for a coffee. Before leaving the area, we took another coastal stroll (the highlight of which was seeing a stag disappear into the undergrowth - too fast for a photo!), then drove back towards the freeway through the gorgeous Anderson Valley. We travelled first through a huge redwood forest (coastal redwoods being the tallest trees in the world), then through rolling hills, apple orchards, vineyards and olive groves. We stopped briefly at a small, unpretentious winery with a cute little tasting shack where the tastings were… wait for it… free! Amazing. On the way back, we tried to get dinner at a fish restaurant by one of the marinas in Sausalito, but the line was so long that we gave up, and went instead to an excellent Thai place in the city. However, we still managed to enjoy some great views across the pink-hued Bay at sunset from Sausalito. Arriving back at the flat shortly after 9, we saw a small red glow out on Angel Island – fire! It’s now an hour and a half later and the fire is covering most of the eastern side of the island, which is really sad. They’ve ferried fire engines over there, but surprisingly, there are no helicopters. No one lives on Angel Island except park staff, but it’s a lovely state park and a gorgeous place to visit, with a few interesting old military buildings.

Jon and are suffering other trials right now, as we can’t get a tenant for our house. The letting agent told us that there has not been much interest, largely due to the crashing economy. If we can’t get a tenant soon, we’ll have to come back, something neither of us wants to do. Whenever we have to do it, giving up the California lifestyle is going to be extremely difficult.

Big Sur

Had a very busy week last week. Spanish class on Monday, Step class at the gym on Tuesday, Stereophonics concert at the Great American Music Hall on Wednesday, dinner at a friend’s in Oakland on Thursday, drive down to Salinas for the start of our Big Sur weekend on Friday! Salinas is the birthplace of John Steinbeck, but we didn’t see anything to do with him. Instead, we just stayed at a cheap motel there and took advantage of a cheap Mexican supermarket the next day for our camping supplies. It really was like Little Mexico from the food to the huge array of piñatas (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi%C3%B1ata if you don’t know what they are!) to the fact that a little Spanish certainly helped with communications at the deli counter.

We’d planned to get in touch with Oli and Karine (my colleagues from work, who were accompanying us on the trip) when we arrived at the Big Sur coast, which starts some 120 miles or so south of San Francisco. There was a big flaw to this plan, however, since there is absolutely no cell phone reception along this coastline, which is basically a narrow belt nestled between the Pacific and a range of high, forested hills. As a result, we didn’t see these friends until we got to the campsite that evening. However, we spent a pleasant day with our other friend, Cassie, driving down the gorgeous coast and taking little walks to the shore. We spotted a sea otter during one such stroll, visited a cove where it’s possible to find jade (aptly called Jade Cove) and photographed an absolutely gorgeous 80 foot coastal waterfall (McWay Falls), before heading to the campsite at Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. Our camping spot was among trees, but not as spacious as some others I’d stayed at. However, there was just about enough room for all of us (six, in total, including Karine’s cousin, Marlène, who is visiting). After an initial crisis with the barbecue (it went out, after half-cooking the sausages), we had a great dinner of grilled meats and Mediterranean veg. with salad, topped off with apple pie warmed over the charcoal. I even got to practice my French with Karine’s cousin! For me it was pure delight to be camping and not to be freezing cold, after the Yellowstone experience! Having said that, I didn’t have the best night’s sleep, in spite of not having grizzly bears, wolves or even raccoons to worry about!

After breakfast the next day, we decamped and headed to nearby Pfeiffer Beach. I have a photo of that beach, taken on our road trip in 1999, when the wind was so strong that you could barely stand up! It’s a lovely photo, though. It was very windy this time too, although not as bad, but we still ended up with sand in pretty much every exposed orifice! However, it’s a beautiful beach with interesting rock formations that include perfectly formed tunnels. After admiring the beach for a while (and marvelling at the surfers), we took our leave of everyone and headed off to do a hike in Andrew Molera State Park. Oli, Karine and Marlène had been lucky enough to see a bobcat there the day before, but we weren’t so fortunate, although we saw some seals and lots of birds. We supposedly did an eight-mile hike, but we went the wrong way a couple of times, so it was probably more like nine. It seemed quite hard work, anyway, but it was quite lovely, taking in views across the dunes and bluffs to the ocean, as well as back to the steep hillsides. We hadn’t seen any fire damage from the recent violent forest fires until this point (which surprised me, since several trails were closed in the State Park where we camped), but now, with the aid of binoculars, we were able to spot a few blackened trees high in the hills.

Lazy weekends

The lovely weather that we returned to from Yellowstone continued – at least for a while. Friday night was really balmy – we went to a party just a few blocks up, at our friends’ place on Green Street, and took in their views from the roof. Last Saturday was gorgeous and, even though I had chores to do, I still managed to take full advantage. This included a stroll down to the little beach less than a ten minute walk away, with its views of the Golden Gate Bridge and historic ships, followed by ice cream enjoyed in sunny Washington Square Park. I also had a dip in our pool and a sunbathe on the terrace. On Sunday, we went on our customary run along the waterfront to Crissy Field and back, then had a pretty lazy day, topped off by a visit to the cinema. We went to see “Bottleshock”, which is about the competition in 1976 involving a blind tasting of select French and Californian wines, in which the Californian wines won all categories, putting Napa on the map. It starred Alan Rickman as the wine merchant who organized it all, and was good fun. I longed for Napa to be as it was then, however, with free tastings and wine at $5 a bottle. Those days are long gone!

I had my final Italian class on Wednesday this week. Then, on Thursday, we had the good fortune to have tickets for Robin Williams (yes, THE Robin Williams of Mrs Doubtfire, Good Will Hunting etc. fame) do stand-up comedy at a cute little venue just a stone’s throw from our apartment. We can – literally – see it from the window. Robin Williams lives in San Francisco – over in the posh Seacliff area – and he was doing this gig to raise money for charity. I have to say that it wasn’t all my type of humour, but the guy is such a legend, that it was great to see him anyway. We only found out about the event on the grapevine – Jon heard it from someone at work, who in turn had heard about it from her dentist. I told everyone at my work, and we ended up with quite a gang from the office, including the big boss! Afterwards, most of us went on to the Belgian beer cellar on our block, which was a perfect way to end the evening.

This weekend, it’s been cooler, but still quite sunny. Jon had to work yesterday, so I took myself off to Golden Gate Park, in the hope of getting into the Chihuly exhibition at the De Young museum. Chihuly is a famous glass sculpture artist who makes some amazing pieces. Anyway, the place was so busy that I gave up without waiting in line (they had a timed ticket system, so I was pretty sure I’d be out of luck), but I had a little stroll around some of the park nonetheless, taking in Stow Lake and the gorgeous rose garden. I then took a bus back to the Marina and had a very cold smoothie in a nice café there before heading home. In the evening, we had an invitation to go to my colleague and friend, Molly’s place for dinner. She lives quite near work, in the Pacific Heights area. Well, I must say that I loved her place! It didn’t have the views that we enjoy, but what a lovely characterful building! She lives in a 1930’s Spanish-style mansion in an apartment on the fifth storey, with wooden floors and lots of built-in closets! We had a really pleasant evening.

Today, we did our run again, then headed out over the Golden Gate to Marin in the afternoon. We’d planned to spend a few hours on Tennessee Beach, but we ended up walking from the sunshine straight into the fog, so the beach was rather chilly, to say the least, with a stuff wind blowing. We lasted it out for a little while, stoic Brits as we are, trained in the art of sitting on freezing cold beaches pretending you’re enjoying yourself, but then decided to give up and go somewhere sunny. We went over to Tiburon, on the other side of the Bay from here, and enjoyed some absolutely amazing ice cream at a café there, before taking in the sun from a spot with amazing views across to Angel Island and beyond back towards the city.

Yellowstone & Grand Tetons

I’m behind again. I haven’t told you anything about Kate’s visit nearly three weeks ago, or about the Outside Lands music festival we attended the week before last. I’ll leave the musical critique to Jon (when the poor guy has finished his maths assignment), since I want to tell you about the trip we’ve just returned from to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks.

Susie (my good friend from school days) and her husband Dave arrived for a visit on Wednesday last week. They were lucky with the weather, because they arrived at a time when San Francisco is emerging from the fog of summer into warm, sunny early fall days. Thursday was so nice that I left work early and had a dip in the pool.

Susie had very kindly invited me along on their great adventure through America’s national parks. This began with a flight to Salt Lake City on Saturday. We just had time for a trip to Temple Square (Mormon central!) and dinner. Salt Lake ranks with Las Vegas as one of the strangest places I’ve been to. Temple Square is a perfectly manicured 30-odd acre site in the city centre. The instant you walk through the gate, a very nice man emerges with a free map and details of the free tours on offer. We went on one of these tours, led by two (also very, very nice) young Mormon missionaries. They showed us the temple, tabernacle, museum and (huge) office skyscraper. It was all rather surreal. The city itself was dead (on a Saturday night!), but Jon had no trouble getting a beer with our meal in spite of Utah's weird alcohol regulations.

We had a night in Salt Lake, then picked up the rental car and (after some very logistical packing, because it was only a compact car), headed off on the long drive through four states to Yellowstone. That’s right – we started in Utah, drove much of the length of Idaho, crossed a small patch of Montana and finally entered Wyoming just past the entrance into the park. We stopped to buy supplies at the immense Walmart in a rather sad town called Idaho Falls (followed by more packing logistics). We also passed through a fairly wild storm, which sent tumbleweed scuttling across the highway. It was a really long journey – some 380 miles – and we couldn’t resist seeing some of the sites when we finally got there, so took time out to photograph a herd of elk by the road and also got our first taste of hot springs and bubbling mud pots at one of the volcanic sites on the way to the campground. We didn’t actually arrive there until about 8 o’clock, by which time it was dark and raining hard. Pitching the tent in the pouring rain was not fun. Fortunately, we were close to a restaurant, into which we retreated in order to get away from the weather.

I didn’t sleep well either of the first two nights. Most probably because, in spite of my five layers, I was still cold, because my 35 degree F sleeping bag was not capable of withstanding the plummeting night-time temperatures at ca. 8,000 feet. There was even ice on the tent when we awoke one morning! By the third night, Jon sweetly offered me his sleeping bag (good to 18 F), so I managed to get some shut-eye. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you could hear what were probably wolves howling in the distance, which was rather eerie, to say in the least.

Our first full day in Yellowstone began with a drive up to the canyon of the Yellowstone River. We saw bison along the way, plus a wolf that was really just a black dot in the far distance, and also visited the Mud Volcano area of steaming, sulphurous pools and mud pots. It’s impossible to exaggerate the extent to which you find steam pouring out of the ground all over Yellowstone. It’s one immense volcano with a caldera that covers much of the park, and apparently, it’s due an eruption, which would purportedly destroy all life on the planet.

We did a hike along the canyon to a lake, then circled back past some more steaming holes, before continuing around the immense loop road to see Old Faithful, a geyser that erupts approximately every 90 minutes and shoots water some 120 feet into the air. We arrived at the right time and managed to see the event before heading back for a tasty meal by the camp fire.

The next day was a much brighter day weather-wise (although still cold), and we enjoyed clear skies for most of it. We headed up to Mount Washburn, and hiked up to the top past trees covered in the first sprinkling of snow, to the summit at just over 10,000 feet. On the way back down, we chanced upon a flock of bighorn sheep, which stuck around and let us photograph them. We then decided to head north a little way, hoping to see bears in the “prime grizzly country” of Antelope Creek. We didn’t see bears, but we did come across a commotion along the road that turned out to be caused by a moose grazing by a nearby stream. On the way back to camp, we got stuck in traffic in Hayden Valley, where bison were crossing the road.

The final day of our trip began with heavy rain. We drove into Grand Teton National Park, afraid that we wouldn’t get to see any of the famous mountains. However, it began to clear, so we stopped by the side of the road to watch the clouds lifting slowly off the jagged, snowy peaks. As we were there, we noticed another commotion just down the road. There was talk of a grizzly bear. Before we knew it, the grizzly in question (a female), had bounded across the road and into the willow on the other side. Too fast for a photo, but impressive nonetheless! After stopping at a couple of lovely viewpoints, we decided to take the boat across pretty Jenny Lake and walked to a waterfall before making our way back around the edge of the lake. We were rewarded with another wildlife sighting – this time a female moose knee-deep in a pond.

Finally, Susie and Dave drove us to tiny Jackson Hole Airport (they were continuing on down to other parks the next day), where they dropped us off and we caught a propeller plane to Denver, where we transferred to a connecting flight back to San Francisco. It was a really amazing trip, although I must say that it isn’t too hard – after freezing your socks off for several days – to return to the balmy climes of September in California.

Photos are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/yellowstone-and-gra/ (password: moocow)

Summer in the Sierras

Last weekend, we headed off to Lake Tahoe for a long weekend of activities. Our friend, Cassie, had got a good deal at the Marriott in South Lake Tahoe in return for her sitting through 90 minutes of timeshare talk. She shared the offer with us, so we got to stay in nicer than usual accommodation right by Stateline (the border between California and Nevada, where all the casinos are situated). The location would have really come into its own in the winter, because it’s right by the Heavenly gondola, which sweeps you up to the ski area. They were still charging you plenty to go up there, even in summer, so we didn’t bother, but entertained ourselves with the activities on offer elsewhere. And we were not short of these!

It was a bad drive up there on Friday night, because we hit lots of traffic leaving the city, then again between the North Bay and Sacramento. Jon was no doubt relieved, therefore, when Cassie offered to drive us the next day, especially since our planned activity, white-water rafting, involved double-backing on ourselves for about an hour to Placerville. The rafting was really good fun. First they fed us, in their attractively sited embarkation point amongst trees slung with hammocks by the river. Then we set off, six or seven to a raft. It was a class III rapids trip along the South Fork of the American River, through a pretty gorge. I’d been a little nervous of trying the class IV Middle Fork, which Cassie tried to persuade us to do, but on balance, I think I could have handled it, as the raft was a lot more stable than I’d expected and I really enjoyed the big rapids. We each had a paddle, and the guide told us what to do. I took a turn at the front, which was certainly the most fun/scary place in the boat! The guide realised we were out for a bit of excitement, so he deliberately took us head-first into a rock, which resulted in all but two of us falling out! (I was one of the two :-)).We also got to swim in a couple of spots in the rather cold river. It was pretty fast-moving, even in the calm bits.

That evening, we enjoyed a dip in the Marriott’s hot tub, before going out for dinner in the 19th floor restaurant of one of the casinos. After the day, we were all pretty tired, so headed off to bed before it got too late, falling asleep in front of the Olympics on the TV.

Next day we had quite a late start, because Cassie had her timeshare talk in the morning. We went off to do a hike in the Desolation Wilderness, which a couple of friends at work had recommended to me. It began at Echo Lake, which is near the high point of the road we take to Lake Tahoe (about 7,500 feet, if I remember right), just before you drop down to South Lake itself. Echo Lake is a gorgeous little spot, comprising Lower and Upper Echo Lakes, which used to have 5 feet of elevation difference between them, until someone decided to blast a channel to allow boats to pass through. To shorten the hike by just under three miles, we took a water taxi (large speedboat) across the lake and began walking at the other end. It was a fairly easy 3. 5 mile hike out, with not too much climbing, and although it was sunny and hot, it was nothing after the previous week’s heat at Pinnacles (high seventies/low eighties as opposed to 100 degrees). We passed several attractive little lakes in the high country, including Tamarack Lake and Lake Margery, where we had our lunch and spotted a couple of marmots. There were lots of alpine flowers still around, presumably because they have such a short growing season at this height. Our end-point was gorgeous Lake Aloha, a mid-sized lake with lots of tiny, rocky islands. Jon and I both enjoyed a swim to one of these islands in the cooling water and explored the rock formations barefoot, before heading back on the return journey (although, had we had provisions and camping gear, we could have kept on exploring for many more miles). Cassie’s recently injured ankle was starting to hurt, so she took the water taxi back to the parking lot at the other end of Echo Lake, but Jon and I decided to speed-hike the last 2.7 miles by the lake past a host of gorgeous cabins, only accessible by water. That evening, it was into the hot tub again and then out for a slap-up dinner at Fire & Ice.

On Monday, we decided to try jet-skiing on Lake Tahoe itself. It was pretty expensive, so we just rented one for an hour and shared it amongst us, going out two at a time. It was pretty easy to operate and a lot of fun, although I didn’t go nearly as fast as Jon, who apparently hit 60 miles per hour, bouncing over the waves. After that, we headed off to do a short hike near Emerald Bay, a very popular spot on the south-west shore. It was a short hike (just a mile out and a mile back), but there was about 500 feet of climbing. The end-point was lovely Eagle Lake, a small lake surrounded by forested mountains on all sides. There was a little island that Jon and I swam to (although it probably only amounted to about half a mile of swimming in total, I still managed to pull a muscle in my back that still aches a bit!). As we were trying to dry off in the sun (we didn’t bring towels, of course), a bear ambled across the rocks ahead of us. S/he then reappeared at the water’s edge, before disappearing again into the vegetation. It was a smallish Black bear (although brown in colour), probably an adolescent. S/he didn’t seem bothered by the people at all. It was another positive bear experience for me!

Camping at Pinnacles National Monument

We’ve just had a really pleasant camping weekend at Pinnacles National Monument, a park situated about 130 miles south of the city, on the San Andreas Fault, approx. 40 miles from the coast. Interestingly, the park is actually one half of an ancient volcano; the other half is some 200 miles south, and the two halves have been separated by plate tectonics – the Pacific and North American plates grinding past each other at a rate of a couple of centimetres per year. We knew it was going to be hot, but when we arrived, it was about 100 degrees in the shade (approx. 36.5 degrees C). We hastily erected the tent under a tree and planned our first excursion, which was necessarily short, namely a walk through Bear Gulch Cave to the tiny reservoir and back. The said cave was a talus cave, formed by huge boulders falling into a cleft and getting wedged. We saw a bat hanging down as we made our way through, then spotted several garter snakes swimming and trying desperately to cool off in the reservoir, which was also swarming with dragonflies. We made our way back via the rim trail, where we got to see some of the amazing rock formations up close.

On the way back to the campground, we saw a deer with two fawns in tow. Then, on arrival back at our campsite, we found that it had been invaded by a flock of California quail. These are sweet little birds – blue with black faces and tufts on their heads. It’s actually our state bird, but I was surprised how unsophisticated they were, scratching around like chickens, then running hither and thither as fast as their legs would carry them. We had a cold dinner, as we didn’t have a camping stove and open fires were not allowed with the current high wildfire risk, then had yet another visitor to the campground – this time a raccoon. He was a persistent little chap, looking very much the outlaw with his black mask, and had to be chased off.

Once it got dark, we marveled at the sky - far from light pollution and incredibly clear. We picked out Venus and Mars, and contemplated the Milky Way. I slept reasonably well that night – it did, at least, cool off. Jon didn’t sleep so well. He claimed that he kept waking up to the sounds of all the animals – possibly the raccoon again, and certainly the Western Scrub Jays that kept landing on the tent.

We had to get up early, as we planned to do a big hike, and it was essential we left while it was still cool enough. So, we packed up the tent and drove the short distance to the trailhead. The hike took us along a dry creek, up chaparral-covered hills for a fair distance, through the rock formations of the high peaks, down to the western side of the park, through another talus cave and along the same dry creek bed back to the car. Even though we set off early, it was still really tough-going with the heat. Overhead soared turkey vultures and even (possibly) the odd California condor. The second talus cave was pretty difficult to enter – the opening was tiny and the entry sloped down into the blackness – but we were out again before I could get really claustrophobic! We had less than two miles to go, when we suddenly heard a loud rattle to our right. We’d chanced upon a rattlesnake, lying just at the side of the path! We now had to get past it, but not before taking a few pictures!

After we’d finished our hike, we went to the pretty picnic spot by the visitor centre and had lunch while the Steller’s Jays, Western Scrub Jays, woodpeckers and tree creepers flitted around, with the squirrels trying desperately to scrounge a crumb or two. The temperature was hitting 34 degrees Celsius, so we beat a retreat and headed north to the historic village of San Juan Bautista. I’d wanted to visit it, as parts of Hitchcock’s Vertigo were filmed there. It also has lots of “historic” (read: "19th century") buildings and a 200-year-old mission church. Although it was certainly very pretty, I was disappointed not to find it more recognisable from the film. The all-important bell tower scenes must have been filmed somewhere else, as the mission has no bell tower and has never had one.

29 miles south of San Francisco, it was still 25 Celsius. However, we could see the tsunami of fog ahead of us, and once in it, the temperature dropped to 13. Over a 20 degree difference in less than a hundred miles! However, fortunately, our bit of San Francisco was still in the sunshine. Not today, though – it’s been thick, cold fog all day. Mark Twain said the coldest winter he’d ever experienced was a summer in San Francisco, and I’m beginning to know what he meant!

Photos are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/pinnacles-national-/ (password: moocow)

Lazy about blogging

I know, it’s been three weeks. I am sorry. Don’t have much of an excuse, other than that I haven’t done quite so many “blog-worthy” activities of late. Work is extremely dull at the moment (hope no one from work reads this!), Jon’s been busy at the weekends with work or maths and we’ve had a lot of fog. However, there have been some fun activities too. Like going to Dolores Park in the Mission for a barbecue. Whatever the weather in the rest of the city, it’s nearly always nice down there and there was a large contingent out sunbathing, grilling and even strapping on “sumo” suits to have a hilarious go at wrestling. Every time I go to that area, I tell myself that I should visit it more often, but you get lazy and stick to your neighbourhood all too often. After the barbecue, I came back to North Beach and met up with a couple of friends from my old Italian class, Gami and Candida, plus Candida’s super cute pug, Kathmandu. We sat on the terrace of Café Greco, sipping coffee and munching on biscotti, and could have been in Rome.

Last weekend, I decided the fog was just too much for me, and made Jon take us out on the Sunday. We drove up to Sonoma Valley (wine country) and did a little hike near Santa Rosa. The scenery is not as dramatic up there as it is just across the bridge, but at least it doesn’t get any fog, and it’s a pleasant enough mélange of rolling hills, redwood forest and dry grassland. We came across several wild turkeys over the course of our hike and also spotted a bright blue snake, which we haven’t, as yet, identified! Afterwards, we went to a winery with grounds and indulged in a nice glass in the sunshine. In addition, I got my first pedicure last weekend, which was an amazing experience! People at work had raved about them, so I decided that it was time to try it for myself, and went to a nail salon just around the corner from where I live. I got to pick my colour, then sit in a massage chair while they tended to my feet. It was so relaxing and the massage was incredible. $25 well spent, in my opinion.

I’ve started up a new Italian class, which is going pretty well, except that I’m never that motivated to do the homework. We’re reading a book, which I think is a legal thriller, and it’s pretty good. I go on Wednesday nights and it lasts from 6 pm – 9 pm.

On Friday, we went to see a film at the cinema with a couple of friends, “the Visitor”. It was well done, but didn’t live up to all the hype, in my opinion. However, we had a nice evening and got some dinner afterwards.

Yesterday was a lovely day weather-wise, so we went for a walk in the west of the city, by the ocean, parking the car in the posh Seacliff area, then wandering along the coastal path down to a rocky beach strewn with the remnants of an old shipwreck. It was beautiful. We watched scores of pelicans passing overhead and also saw a hawk doing the rounds. We then clambered back up and went to a sandy beach in Seacliff that I hadn’t visited before, China Beach, where we sunbathed and read our books. I really liked the beach – it’s tiny and lower-key than nearby Baker Beach, but still has the same crashing waves and views of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Finally, today we indulged in one of the great pleasures of life – going out for breakfast/brunch. We headed to our usual spot up the road – Curlys – and enjoyed the delights of a hearty American breakfast. Just what you need to warm the cockles when the fog is back.

Seattle and Alaska

A week and a half ago, we took an evening flight to Seattle, Washington. I wished I’d had my camera out as we descended past Mount Rainier, the base of which was shrouded in haze, giving the impression that its white mass was floating above the ground. Against the backdrop of the twilight sky, which lent rose and lilac tints to the snow, it was even more impressive.

We didn’t see any of the stereotypical Seattle weather (rain), but enjoyed two days of glorious sunshine with temperatures in the eighties and above. On the first day, we did the Underground Tour, sited at historic Pioneer Square. Seattle was originally built by pioneers on silty ground, which meant that the streets were constantly filled with mud and flooded easily. After the attempt of several harebrained schemes, the city was ultimately “raised up” by building on top of the original edifices and filling in the sidewalks (the roads had already been raised). We also did a cruise on the Puget Sound, visited the lively Pike Place market and had a delicious dinner at a seafood restaurant on a pier by Lake Union.

The next day, we took on Seattle’s iconic Space Tower. This looks like a spaceship on legs - it was built for the World’s Fair in the sixties, and is now a key feature of the city’s skyline. You can take an elevator to the top, which we did, in order to get great views of the city and various distant snowy mountains, including Mount Rainier. That day, we also went to the modern music museum (EMP), because Jon is a big fan of the “grunge” bands that came out of Seattle in the early nineties. Bizarrely, though, the whole thing seemed to be about Jimi Hendrix, with little attention paid to rock legends like Nirvana – could it be because much of their music had a pretty negative message and the lead singer ended up killing himself with an overdose? Who knows?

That night, we flew on to Anchorage, Alaska, where it was still light in spite of our late arrival, and spent a night in a featureless motel near the airport. We were picked up on Sunday to do our week-long group camping trip. Apart from ourselves, there were a pair of sisters from Australia (Lisa and Nicole), a girl from Washington D.C. (Alexandra), an older couple from Texas (Mike and Cheryl), and our guide, Waldo, who turned out to be a kind of superman who’d spent six years in the military and was now filling his summer guiding tours before going on to stuntman school in the “Lower 48” (how Alaskans refer to the contiguous U.S.). We made a stop at a supermarket in Anchorage to pick up last-minute supplies (it was immense – you could buy everything under the sun there, including guns!), before driving down to the Kenai Peninsula. We drove along a beautiful sound flanked by snowy mountains, stopping every now and then to take pictures, and also swung by a visitor center near a glacier on the way. Unfortunately, we couldn’t walk right up to the glacier, because there had been an avalanche, making the going pretty tough. We arrived at our campsite late afternoon – it was a lovely, peaceful spot by an isolated stretch of water called Hidden Lake. A sign outside the toilets warned that a brown (also known as grizzly) bear had been sighted at the camp a few days previously – yikes!

We did a little hiking in the area, but were plagued by some very persistent mosquitoes, several of which employed a new tactic with me, namely getting in my hair and feasting on my scalp – lovely. Jon and I also went kayaking on the gorgeous lake, which was such a wonderful experience that I rank it as one of the highlights of the trip. Another highlight was seeing a black bear at the back of the campsite. She had two cubs with her, which were up a tree, but didn’t seem too perturbed by us. We spent a few minutes staring at each other in mutual curiosity, before we thought we’d better leave her to take care of her business with the cubs. Unfortunately, an hour or so later she managed to get into another camper’s cool box and steal some crisps. This is bad news, because once they’ve learned that humans = food, bears become aggressive towards humans and property. She had to be scared off by the rangers.

After two nights camping there, we continued on to Seward, a pleasant seafront town, where we embarked on a cruise through the Kenai Fjords. It was a beautiful day (the previous two had been cloudy) and we were excited at the prospect of seeing all the wildlife. We were relatively lucky, in that we saw pods of orcas (killer whales), sealions, harbour seals, sea otters, bald eagles and the odd humpback whale. However, the whales stayed well underwater, so they were difficult to see and certainly didn’t pose for any pictures, but it was still thrilling. We also sailed to a tidewater glacier and waited a while to see the chunks of ice fall off into the ocean (a process called “carving”). The scenery was stunning. I’ve never been to Norway, but I imagine it must be similar. That evening we stayed at a motel (how wonderful it was to have a bed and shower!) and also ate out at a nice restaurant by the port.

From Seward, it was a long drive north to our next campsite, just south of Healy, near Denali National Park. After closely inspecting the map, it turns out that we were only about 25 – 30 miles or so from the abandoned Fairbanks bus out in the wilderness where Chris McCandless of “Into the Wild” fame met his end. There was also a lake at this new campsite, but we camped on a ridge looking out over mountains. At this point, we were a good way north of Seward and Anchorage, so it never got dark at all. The sun dipped down below the horizon for a couple of hours, but not enough to bring on anything more than an attractive sunset and a light dusk. The good weather continued, and because we were inland, it was surprisingly warm. Along the way, we’d been lucky enough to get good views of Mount McKinley, the highest mountain in North America at 20,320 feet. The peak is often obscured by cloud even on sunny days, as the mountain is so large that it creates its own weather system.

We headed into Denali National Park the next day. The Park is closed to private vehicles, so everyone is forced to go on one of the shuttle buses that venture 66 miles into the tundra. We didn’t make it to the very end, as we didn’t have enough time, given that we wanted to do some hiking, in spite of the fact that there are no trails in Denali – you just have to use the paths created by wild Dall sheep. Along the way, we saw several caribou (which are like reindeer) and a couple of grizzly bears gambolling up and down a hill, although they were at some distance from the road. On the return journey, we saw a golden eagle pretty close and a female moose a long way off. Sadly, though, there were some utter morons sitting behind me on the bus who didn’t shut up the whole way, which spoiled the experience somewhat!

That night, we took advantage of the lack of darkness by playing midnight golf. Neither of us had ever played. I wasn’t much good, but it was a lot of fun, especially as we got to chase each other around in the golf carts! Jon turned out to be not bad at all and played again with Waldo the next day. We also had 4th July fireworks – Waldo and friends had made a floating dock from which to launch them in the middle of the lake. It was a lot of fun, but fireworks aren’t quite the same when it’s broad daylight!

We got another hike in – up Mount Healy, at the gateway to Denali National Park. I was hoping to see some more wildlife, especially since there were signs everywhere warning of “bear danger”. I’d now got quite used to the potential threat of bears and was well armed with my bear bell (which lets them know you’re coming), as well as a can of bear repellent (pepper spray) that I’d borrowed from Waldo. However, we didn’t see anything other than a few cheeky ground squirrels.

I was so sad to say farewell to everyone in Anchorage and finish what had been a wonderful trip. We were able to take showers and hang around for a bit in Lisa and Nicole’s room, which was nice, as our flight was at an absurd hour the next morning (2 a.m.!). Alaska is so beautiful and its proportions are so huge, that a week really isn’t enough. The trip served only to whet rather than satisfy my appetite.

Photos are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/seattle-and-alaska/ (password: moocow).

Paul and Kate's visit

I haven’t blogged for a couple of weeks, so there’s a lot to catch up on! Last weekend was a bit of a partying one – we went to an interesting cocktail gathering at a colleague’s apartment in the Mission district on Friday night, then attended the North Beach Festival in our neighbourhood on Sunday. The festival’s most amusing feature was the pet blessings ceremony at the Shrine of St. Francis of Assisi. Imagine a church full of dogs – with their people – and you have the idea. There was also someone who had brought his hamster in a little cage. The dogs seemed to behave pretty well as the priests passed down the aisle throwing holy water. After the festival, some friends came back to our apartment and we put away a couple of good bottles of wine!

I’ve also seen a couple of very different San Francisco films recently: the Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill and The Bridge. I’d read the book that arose out of the former – it’s the story of a hobo who befriends the local wild parrot population, which is ultimately his salvation. It included lots of lovely scenes of North Beach and Telegraph Hill. The other was a less happy tale – it was a documentary about the fact that the Golden Gate Bridge is the most popular suicide spot in the world, with someone throwing him or herself off on average every two weeks.

Last Monday, our friends from Hoddesdon, Paul and Kate, arrived on the last leg of their round-the-world tour. Kate’s parents were also in town on part of their holiday. We enjoyed a few evenings of meals out and also took them up to Top of the Mark for cocktails one evening. The weather was incredible – baking hot almost every day, which is unusual for San Francisco. On Friday evening, we began the weekend with a lovely dip in the pool and a few beers.

Next day, we set off for Russian River, about 70 miles north across the Golden Gate. We hired canoes for the day and set off down the river from Forestville. Much of it was very gentle with barely any paddling required. However, there were a few tricky bits with easy “rapids”, then the river widened and the paddling got rather harder! However, we had plenty of breaks for picnicking and swimming in the river. There were lots of other people out and about in various contraptions – it was a real holiday atmosphere. At the end of it all, we rode back to our car in a converted yellow school bus, then headed to Guerneville, where we stayed in a motel very handy for the restaurants and cafés. We didn’t stay out too late, though, as we were all exhausted from a string of late nights and a few miles of canoeing.

On Sunday, we went to nearby Korbel Champagne Cellars to do a champagne tasting. Not a bad way to start the day. It was another gorgeous, warm morning, but by the time we reached the coast, 12 miles west of Guerneville, we’d hit the fog! We drove down the coast, but didn’t tarry long on the northern stretch because of the fog. However, by the time we reached Tomales Bay, it was beginning to clear, so we enjoyed a nice picnic at Bear Valley and a sunny wander along the earthquake trail, which runs along the San Andreas fault and gives info about the plate tectonics at work underneath! After that, we headed to the southern part of Point Reyes and strolled along the coastal path. Down at one of the beaches, we had the good fortune to see an osprey up close as it rode the wind and thought about diving for fish (but ultimately didn’t bother!). Then it was over to Coast Café in Bolinas for a great dinner, before heading down the coast along Highway 1, taking in the vista from the viewpoint above the Golden Gate (by which time it was freezing!) and finally back to San Francisco.

Kate and Paul have now gone off to Yosemite for a couple of days. Mind you, I’m not sure anything can beat their trip to Alcatraz, where they bumped into Posh and Becks, of all people!

Yosemite waterfalls weekend

Last week was really busy at work, but I had a couple of nice evenings out: firstly with friends from volunteering days on Tuesday at an Indian restaurant in the Tenderloin, which turned out to be rather good! The second meal out was with someone we know from university days, who was en route back to the UK with his wife after living in New Zealand for two years. Then on Friday, I went into school to volunteer, but found they were having a party in honour of me and another volunteer who helps them! There was a huge chocolate cake with our names written on it and a lovely bunch of roses was presented.

Having made it to the end of the week, Jon and I set off for the long drive to Yosemite for a weekend getaway. We stayed overnight at Groveland, the last real community before the park entrance, which is still an hour outside the valley. Next day we headed into the park and went up to Glacier Point. A road takes you all the way to the point, some 3,500 feet above the valley floor. In all the times we’ve visited Yosemite, we’d never been up on this road. Well, the views were stupendous, second only to those from Cloud’s Rest, I’d say (which involves a 14 mile hike from the Tioga Road). There were loads of people, of course, but you can’t take away the gorgeousness of those vistas. We did a short hike (5 miles) from a spot a few miles down from Glacier Point to Sentinel Dome and Taft Point. There were still patches of snow here and there, so it felt very odd wandering around in T-shirts and vests, crunching over the white stuff. We were lucky enough to see a marmot posing in the sunshine along the way.

We spent Saturday night in Curry Village, the budget accommodation option in the valley. I’d booked us a canvas tent cabin. It had its own bear box outside, but we didn’t see any bears, alas (just a few chipmunks scurrying around). We had a relaxing pre-dinner drink, watching a deer graze its way across a patch of grass in front of us, then a mediocre meal before settling down to listen to the ranger talk on search and rescue missions. We both had some trouble sleeping that night, as the temperature dropped down very low – probably to about 5 degrees.

The next day, we decided to tackle a big hike, so climbed to the top of Yosemite Falls. The Falls shoot down in two hugely impressive cascades, with a less vertical middle section, from a height of some 2,425 feet, making it the highest waterfall in North America and the sixth highest in the world. It was a fairly strenuous hike. We still hadn’t had enough when we reached the top, though, so meandered through the high country for another mile to Yosemite Point. It was not a hike for anyone suffering from vertigo! We managed to catch a bit of sunshine (we both have a few pink patches, but nothing too serious) and returned – not without first getting a huge feed at a diner in Oakdale – to a decidedly summery San Francisco.

Photos available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/yosemite-waterfalls-etc/

My perfect day

Today I did all my favourite things. Woke up to a beautiful, clear sunny day and the sound of the wild parrots chattering in their morning flight. Eager to get out in the sunshine after a spate of rather dull days, I went for a run along the waterfront with its fabulous views of the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, Bay Bridge, the financial district – you name it – and returned to a delicious breakfast of hot oatmeal and fruit. We then set out to do a hike at Point Reyes. We’d done most of the hike before (and seen a bobcat on that occasion), but this time our destination was Alamere Falls, a succession of waterfalls with the largest spilling out directly onto the beach from a sheer sandstone cliff. The weather held clear, although it was by no means warm – a stiff wind was blowing cold air straight off the Pacific for most of the time. The trail to the falls was a real scramble, but we made it, and felt risking life and limb was worth it in the end, as they were pretty impressive. It was also a delight to see so many wild flowers still in bloom along the trail. This time, there were no big cats in sight, but I did almost step on a snake!

After our hike, we went to our favourite restaurant, Coast Café in Bolinas. I love this little village – it’s so quaint, laid-back, full of interesting types and charmingly located at the mouth of a gorgeous tidal lagoon. We enjoyed cocktails (an aptly named Epicenter and a Bolinas Sunrise), then put away huge quantities of food (fish and chips for me, I’m afraid, and yes, I DO feel guilty!). All the while we had the drive back to look forward to, which is an experience in itself – a windy road hugging the coast, dipping down through eucalyptus forest and emerging from a tunnel to the view of the great bridge, glowing an even brighter orange in the golden rays of the setting sun. All in all, great therapy to cure the frustrations of a hard week at work for me and an exhausting time training customers in Texas for Jon.

Running, parading and weird weather

A week and a half ago we were baking in 34 degree heat and I was trying to work as best I could with an ice-pack tucked down my front or balanced on my head, getting everything finished as fast as possible so that I could head home and jump in the pool to cool off. Then, just a few days later, the daytime high barely topped 12 degrees – that’s only just above fridge temperature! The weather forecasters seem to change their mind on an hourly basis and we’ve had everything from blazing sunshine to thick fog and even rain in the last ten days.

So, what have we been up to? Well, there have been a couple of ascents to skyscraper bars – firstly to the Starlight Room with my friend from work, Molly. It was fabulous after a hot Friday in the office. Secondly, we went up to the Top of the Mark with Jon and his brother and sister, who have just been to visit. I managed to get us a fabulous table, from which we could watch the sun set over the Golden Gate, whilst sipping cocktails from the “101 martinis” menu.

May is also a good month for events. A week ago we had the 12km Bay to Breakers run. This year, I didn’t bother entering officially, but still ran the distance, while Jon and siblings walked it. My time was similar to last year’s, which is good, as I was under the impression that I wasn’t as fit this year. I’m not sure the costumes were as fun as last year, but I saw more naked people (!). When we got to the end, on the shore of the Pacific, it was really foggy and cold. However, back in North Beach, we enjoyed some lovely sunshine – a textbook example of the Bay area’s microclimates.

The Sunday just gone was the day of another event: the Mission Carnaval (that’s how they spell it, it’s not me), a vibrant Latino parade in the city’s Hispanic district. We got there after the start, so I think we may have missed some of the best sights, but there was still plenty to see, and I simply love the music (must have been a samba player in a former life). We then took a stroll a few blocks back to Dolores Park, one of the warmest parts of the city, which offers views of downtown SF above tall, feathery palm trees.

We’ve also done plenty of eating. Tried a new restaurant on Russian Hill during the week. It offered upscale American cuisine, and even had Coca Cola braised pork on the menu. Well, I had to try it, and it was, in fact, delicious! Jon, James and Jessica also made it to Mama’s, the most famous breakfast place in the city, on Washington Square. We’ve never been able to get in on the weekend because there’s always a huge line outside. Saturday night was a burger night – at Mo’s, which arguably cooks the best in San Francisco. Then, with yesterday being a holiday, Jon and I went out for breakfast to Curly’s, a great old stalwart all-American greasy spoon up the road, and I also ended up having a rather healthier Thai meal with a friend after work in the edgy Tenderloin district.

There’s been drinking aplenty too – we headed for the winelands on Saturday, specifically Sonoma Valley. However, it wasn’t how I’d imagined it (lazy picnic in the sunshine on the lawns of a fabulous winery, glugging from a cool bottle), because – very oddly – it rained! Usually, the rain is long over by this time of year, and we don’t see it again until September, but it threw it down for a large part of the day, and we ended up picnicking British-style in the car! However, we still made it around three wineries, including a tour.

We took James and Jessica back to the airport on Sunday. Unfortunately – for reasons I won’t go into here – the visit wasn’t a resounding success, but I hope that they got some enjoyment out of it. I love my State-side home and get lots of pleasure from sharing it.

Monterey Peninsula

Jon was busy this weekend, working on his maths, so I went on a little trip with my friend Cassie, down to the Monterey Peninsula. This is home to a special ecosystem, that results in rich marine life, plus several species of plant unique to the area, including the Monterey cypress and Monterey pine. It’s situated about 125 miles, or just over two hours from San Francisco.

We headed over there on Saturday, and began with a visit to the Monterey Aquarium, which is pretty special and is dedicated almost exclusively to documenting the marine life within the local area. We watched transfixed as sea otters rolled and dived, bright jelly fish drifted gracefully, huge tuna and weird sunfish swam around their huge tank and an octopus fixed his suckers to the glass. We were able to touch rays and starfish, then wander out onto the deck and look over the real home to all these wonderful creatures, as the aquarium is sited right by the ocean. After a stroll around the touristy area of Cannery Row, and the consumption of a huge toffee apple, we headed off on a drive along the coast of the peninsula. Part of this took in the 17-mile Drive, a scenic but rather pricey toll road. It certainly offered some lovely views of the rugged coastline, including sights of the Lone Cypress, a 250-year-old Monterey cypress clinging to a narrow rocky outcrop, inspiration to many an artist and even poet, I believe. Several swanky homes and the famous Pebble Beach golf course are also sited along the drive.

That evening, we found downtown Monterey, a very pleasant main street with several tasteful cafés, restaurants and shops, and ate at an elegant but not especially expensive Martini bar/eatery. Many of the buildings are in Spanish style, even more so than around San Francisco.

Today we awoke to a rather murky, fog-shrouded morning. The motel’s offering of coffee and a nasty processed “pastry” was certainly not enough to tempt us to take on the day, so we drove back to the downtown area and had breakfast at a very popular café there (thanks, Lonely Planet guidebook!). We certainly felt safe, with several members of the Monterey police on the next table, complete with their guns and other assorted weaponry! It was a great place – I had a very tasty omelette, but made the mistake of ordering “grits” on the side. I confess that I didn’t really know what these were, but knew that it was some kind of American speciality. Don’t recommend them – basically semolina slop.

We drove down to Point Lobos, a short distance further down the coast. This is a small State park, with a remarkably varied, rocky coastline, and home to a huge amount of wildlife. We walked around a good chunk of the area and spotted turkey vultures, cormorants, little red-headed sandpipers (not sure if that’s the proper name), harbour seals, sealions, lots of gorgeous flowers and even sea otters! It was beautiful, even though the sky was dull. When we were looking around the little museum at Whalers’ Cove, a ranger told us that the vultures were probably waiting for baby seals to perish, which wasn’t so nice. The seals are birthing at the moment, and sadly, some don’t make it. Finally, by the end of the walk, we were just starting to warm up – the Monterey Peninsula suffers even worse than San Francisco from brisk ocean breezes and fog from the Pacific. It was just as chilly at Carmel, the town where Clint Eastwood was mayor for a while, where we stopped to take a look at the lovely white sand beach. Afterwards, we pottered around the downtown, with its many posh jewellery shops and art galleries, making friends with a pack of seven (seven!) husky dogs in the back of a big SUV. On our way back home, we cruised past the Carmel Mission, one of the oldest and loveliest mission churches in California.

Photos available (password: moocow):
http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/trip-to-the-montere/

Not a very blog-worthy weekend

After such a stream of activities, we needed a quiet one, so last weekend was spent cleaning and tidying the flat, shopping, running/gym, doing homework (maths for Jon, Spanish for me) and relaxing. We did, however, go out for a mediocre Italian meal in our neighbourhood, North Beach, on Saturday, and then invited Rob – our friend from university days who works for Google and has just moved over here – for dinner on Sunday. It was good to see him again.

I had my final Spanish exam on Tuesday. Now the course is over until they restart in August. Today, I decided to try walking to work in a bid to fit more exercise in. It was great – took about the same time as public transport, afforded a good workout (some of the hills are REALLY steep!) as well as fabulous views of both the great bridges, Twin Peaks, Coit Tower, downtown, everything! You can even walk past Danielle Steele’s mansion. The fantastic thing is that you never have to do the same route twice – because the streets are laid out in a grid (in spite of the hills), there are endless options for variation. And it’s great that now I have Spanish skills I can understand the slogans on the T-shirts of Hispanic labourers (“Busco una novia che sa adapta a mis bajos instintos” = “I’m looking for a girlfriend who will adapt to my base instincts” – nice!).

So, not much of excitement to report this week. I am hooked on American Idol of course, and routing for David Cook. On that note, I’d better turn the TV on for tonight’s results!

Las Vegas & the Grand Canyon

We’ve just returned from a long weekend in Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. Las Vegas was incidental – it was the closest airport we could fly to for a reasonable price, but still lies some 280 miles from the big hole in the ground we really came to see. We only had one night in Sin City, as it’s also called, so did a whistle-stop tour of some of the immense casino-hotels that line the Strip, each more absurd or lavish than the next. We ended up having dinner in New York New York, complete with its own Statue of Liberty, Empire State and Central Park, before heading through Camelot-inspired Excalibur to Luxor, a huge black pyramid fronted by a sphinx and concrete obelisk. My first impression was one of fascination, but also distaste: it was all too artificial, too mindlessly hedonistic, too infantile, too vulgar. What were these people thinking of, sitting comatose at slot machines, feeding in an endless stream of quarters, or stumbling around drunk, winding their way between living adverts for plastic surgery on the one hand and the good folk of middle America who’d downed a few too many burgers on the other?

So, I was not really too sorry to leave Vegas behind on Saturday, as we headed out on our long trip to the Grand Canyon. The guide book had described the journey as 300 featureless miles through the desert. This didn’t turn out to be entirely true. While it was certainly a long way, and very sparsely populated, it wasn’t anything like as barren as I’d expected. In fact, there was plenty of vegetation, although the land was pretty useless for anything productive (which might explain why there were ads everywhere selling acres of it for next to nothing). We stopped for lunch at Seligman, a little town in the middle of nowhere on Route 66, at a great diner with a very authentic feel.

Our first night at the Canyon was not very eventful: we had a nice room at a quality but not especially characterful hotel, were unable to get a table at the decent restaurants, so resorted to an acceptable but bland cafeteria. We awoke early next morning, packed up what we needed for the next two days, had a decent breakfast and set off on our big hike down into the depths. We followed the South Kaibab trail, the steeper of the Canyon’s two main paths, which plunges down just short of 5,000 feet over 7 miles. The biggest surprise was how green it was – and how many gorgeous flowers were everywhere, from blossoming cactuses to spindly little blooms growing impossibly out of the red earth.

The descent was tough on the joints, but not overly so. Still, we were glad to reach the suspension bridge over the Colorado River, which would take us to our campsite. The latter turned out to be beside a rushing creek, a tributary of the Colorado, in its own miniature version of the Canyon. We pitched the tent and headed off to the beach to take some rest and soak up the rays. No chance of swimming in it, though – it was mighty cold and alarmingly fast-moving.

After a very makeshift dinner (we had to carry all our own food), we went to a ranger talk just as it was growing dark. This was followed by a highly amusing scorpion hunt. The little beasties fluoresce when ultra-violet light is shone upon them, and of course, the ranger had a special torch. They were everywhere! On the way back to the tent, whilst trying to avoid scorpions, we spotted a ringtail dart across the path, a squirrel-cum-skunk with a stripy tail and one of the more agreeable animals we’d heard about during the talk.

It wasn’t as cold as I’d feared, going to “bed”, but when I awoke at around 5 a.m., it was pretty chilly. I dozed for a bit longer, then we got up, breakfasted and decamped. It was important to make an early start, so that the hard part of the ascent wouldn’t be in the heat of the day, or so we thought! The first part of the hike back up along the Bright Angel Trail – supposedly less steep than the South Kaibab, but longer at around 9 miles – followed the Colorado River past yet more lovely plants and even sand dunes.

The ascent to Indian Garden, half way in distance, didn’t seem too bad, in spite of the heavy backpacks, and I felt some rather unjustified elation at having broken the back of it, without it having broken my back! We had a snack and watched those not hard enough to hike head down on their guided mule tour, while a friendly lizard amused us doing press-ups and the pesky squirrels tried to steal our food. Little did I know that the worst was to come: Indian Garden was, in reality, perhaps only a third of the way up in terms of elevation, and it was followed by several long, hard sets of switchbacks in the blazing heat, ascending through the different geologic layers. We had lunch a mile and a half from the top, but that last push was tough, with screaming calf muscles and burning shoulders. Still, we got lots of respect from the day-hikers and sightseers near the top, who were full of admiration for our feat. As I reached the brink of the South Rim, I finished the last drop of my three litres of water. Jon had downed four, and we’d had another “emergency” litre to hand just in case.

It was truly delicious to board the shuttle bus and get ourselves clean back at the hotel (the same one we’d stayed at before), then to head out and actually strike lucky getting a table at the Arizona Room at Bright Angel Lodge. There was a short wait, but we spent it watching the light fade over the amazing folds of the Canyon. An elderly couple from Las Vegas engaged us in conversation. Within a couple of minutes, they’d told us they didn’t like San Francisco, “because everyone’s on welfare” (!) and justified it with the explanation that they were Republicans! Not a lot you can say to that, really.

The next morning, we took the shuttle bus to some more viewpoints along the South Rim and took our leave of the awe-inspiring views. It was then back on the road for the return trek to Vegas. We’d liked the diner in Seligman so much, that we decided to stop there again, and were amused to find tumbleweed scuttling across the road ahead en masse as we left the freeway – so typical of middle-of-nowhere, just-like-the-movies America!

We decided to stop at the Hoover Dam briefly, although we didn’t get a really good look. Exiting the car was like entering a fan oven – it was nearly 100 degrees and a strong desert wind was blowing. On the one side, the dam’s not very exciting, but on the other it plunges to unfathomable depths (I didn’t manage to see the bottom from the road).

We arrived in Vegas with a good forty minutes or so to spare, so decided to take a look at another casino, namely the Bellagio (which the San Francisco-hating Republicans had recommended, amusingly enough). Expecting it to be murder to park, we were surprised and delighted that it had a free parking lot… but of course – they want to make it easy to take your money off you! Entering the Bellagio was like slipping into an oasis – its main features are a cool, beautifully cultivated atrium, a stupendous glass ceiling and other works of art bedecking its classy walls. Of course, it still had the slot machine hell, but I caught a glimpse of what Vegas could be like, at its best. To be honest, I’m still on the fence about the place, as I told my work colleagues today, as they waited with almost bated breath to hear me cast judgement. It’s seedy, tacky, disgustingly indulgent, literally built on bad habits, but at the same time fun, deliciously opulent and perhaps one of the most truly democratic places in the world - where else would you get the super-wealthy rubbing shoulders with the American equivalent of chavs, where no one looks down on you because all that rules is the mighty dollar and they’re happy to take your money off you, whoever you are?

The return flight was on time and super efficient, just like the outward one (why UK airports can’t operate like this, I don’t know). And, as ever, in spite of it being an epic trip, I was happy to return to my beloved San Franciso and even to head to work (well, almost!). It can’t be that bad when you get to commute by cable car!

Photos are available on the Fotki site: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/las-vegas--the-gran/ (password: moocow)

Last ski of the season

My illness last week turned out to be proper, full-blown flu. I had a miserable day on the Saturday. I was panicked and tried to get to see a doctor, but could only get an appointment if I was prepared to pay $300 (not covered on my insurance). I decided to sit it out.

Jon got home on Saturday evening and cheered me up greatly. I started to improve on Sunday morning, and managed a walk down to the beach, then on the sealions and finally to an ice-cream parlour in North Beach. It was a beautiful day – if I hadn’t been sick, I’d have been in the pool for sure!

I kept on improving through the week. On Monday I managed to go to an Eels concert (fortunately, it was sit-down), then on Tuesday to Spanish class. On Wednesday and Thursday we had visitors – my friend Charlotte from my PGCE course, who was on her honeymoon! And her husband, of course. We went out both nights – firstly to a local Italian, then on Thursday to Chinese (in Chinatown), followed by a drink at my favourite bar, Vesuvio.

Having made it to the end of the week, it was time to head up to Tahoe for the last ski of the season. This time there were just three of us: me, Jon and Tom (from Jon’s work). It was very windy on Saturday, so not many lifts were open. As it’s the end of the season, it was really quiet on the slopes, which meant there were no lift lines, so I’m afraid we soon got a bit bored with doing the same couple of runs over and over again. Add to this the fact that the lower parts of the slope were very slushy, and therefore difficult to ski on, and we were ready to finish early. However, we made the most of the day by heading out on a little drive to lovely Emerald Bay, home to Lake Tahoe’s only island, which is were some rich woman inspired by Norwegian castles built her tea-house many years ago. We walked down to the beach and took photos of this lovely spot, before heading back to South Lake Tahoe.

We ended up eating at Fire & Ice, a “Mongolian wok” style place, where you pick all your raw food, then have it cooked before your eyes on a huge hot plate, while the chefs do cheesy entertainment numbers, juggling spatulas and the like. It was good fun, and certainly a great feast. There’s no way we’d ever be able to get in there at high season without a wait of several hours, so it was a good time to go. Afterwards, we went for a drink in Montbleu Casino (the casinos never fail to strike me as very weird places!) and then set off on a very cold walk back to the motel in the icy wind.

Today, in spite of the prevailing winds, nearly all the lifts were open, so we boarded the Heavenly gondola and were swept up to the slopes for a great day. Again, it was very quiet, with no lift lines, so we did a huge amount of skiing (my sore calves are evidence of this!), including the Olympic Downhill twice. In the afternoon, we headed down the black run I did the last weekend I was in Tahoe, but this time it was really icy. However, feeling more confident after my lesson in March, I made it down just fine. It was a really cold day, though, which made for crunchy snow (still, that’s better than slushy!), and at one point Jon’s beard and moustache iced up!

UK visit and return to the Golden State

Haven’t blogged for a while. Mainly because I’ve been away in the UK – went for a week to visit family and friends, and to go to a wedding. If you’re reading this, then you’re probably one of the family and friends that I visited!

The weather was atrocious when we arrived a week last Saturday – throwing it down with rain. However, Jon still managed to drag me down to the Thames to watch the Oxford-Cambridge boat race, as it went past Hammersmith Bridge. We all got soaked by the wake of one of the speedboats following the crews. It was one of those moments of truly British camaraderie – all camped out in the rain, getting soaking wet, to watch thirty seconds of action. That night we stayed in a hotel in Kensington (I would have said it was the smallest hotel room ever, but the receptionist actually moved us to a supposedly “bigger” room when he saw our bags, so I can only assume that smaller rooms do exist). We went out for a curry with our good friends Karen and Duncan. It was nice to partake of a beer or two in a British pub.

On Sunday, we picked up a hire car from Heathrow and went up to stay with my parents for a few days. The journey seemed very short after our long weekend treks to Tahoe and the like! On Monday we made other visits: to my aunty June and then to Jon’s gran, who was actually due to come out of hospital that day. We ended up taking her home from the hospital. Then, in the evening, my brothers came around for dinner.

The next day, we went out for a posh lunch to Hassop Hall, in the Peak District. I’d been there once before, and it was just as lovely – a beautiful stately home turned hotel in the heart of some delightful countryside, with good food to boot. It was great to get out with Mum and Dad.

After three nights in Derbyshire, we headed down to Bristol to stay with our friends, Andy and Dipika. We had a nice meal together (with yet more wine! – Quite a lot got drunk during the week). The next day, we saw Jon’s dad and step-mum Pam, who came up to Bristol from Devon. We had a lovely day out in Clifton. The weather was good enough to sit outside, which we did, having lunch at a pub with great views of the gorge and suspension bridge. That evening, we went out for dinner with Andy and Dipika to a really cool tapas-type restaurant.

Friday was the day of the wedding. It took place near the school where I used to work in Bishop’s Stortford, Herts. In fact, the parking was in the school car park, and I bumped into my old boss, which was a bit unexpected! The wedding was lovely: the bride and bridesmaids looked gorgeous (the latter were in bright turquoise with pink tulips) and Emily’s three little nephews, which look like different-sized clones of each other, were charming (as are their names: Archie, Billy and Herbie!). We moved on to the reception at Quendon Hall, another former stately home, just north of Bishop’s Stortford (passing through the amusingly named village of Ugley!). The weather was kind, and we were able to sip champagne outside in the lovely gardens. Over dinner, I talked a lot to Emily’s German friend, who owns an ice-cream café in Hamburg. In the evening, my replacement at the school, Antje, was there, so I got to catch up on some gossip.

On Saturday, we moved on to Dan and Michelle’s place, near Hertford. It was great to see them again – as well as our gorgeous ex-cat, Pebbles! In the evening, we went out for a dinner at Marconato restaurant in Hoddesdon with lots of friends. It was a bit difficult to get to talk to everyone, but I think I managed it. It was wonderful to see so many, including Jon’s brother, who’s lost loads of weight – well done, James!

On Sunday, we awoke to snow on the ground. I couldn’t believe it! Not only would I have to contend with Terminal 5, but most likely a dire journey there through the snow! However, in the end, the journey was fine. Jon drove me over there. My flight was delayed almost three hours due to the snow and general Terminal 5 disorganisation, but I filled the time by using it to do my Spanish homework. Couldn’t sleep a wink on the plane (I never can), so I watched movies and did more Spanish homework. I also wandered around quite a lot, as I had an aisle seat for once. It was cool looking out of the window at the ice floes between Canada and Greenland!

Back in San Francisco, I’ve had a bit of a rough time: first with jetlag, then with a flu-like illness (apparently Dan and Michelle have had the same thing, so I’m guessing I caught it in England). Managed to go to Spanish class on Tuesday, but then had to leave work early on Wednesday. I did a long day on Thursday, but that did me in, and now I’m back to square one, so I’ve only been into work for a couple of hours today. It’s so frustrating, especially as today is the warmest so far in the year, and would otherwise be a sunbathing and pool afternoon! I miss Jon, especially as I really could do with having someone to look after me. Still, things can only be so bad when you’re in San Francisco. I get to travel by cable car. I get to see great architecture on my way to work. I get to look out over the Bay and the mountains beyond on a cloudless day when I’m home sick. I just hope I can get well soon, so that I can get back to enjoying it all.

Oh, I haven’t commented on the Olympic torch relay, which came through on Wednesday. It was a shambles, as far as I can tell. They advertised a route, then changed it completely at the last minute, without telling anyone, and they also cancelled the closing ceremony – again without telling anyone. You have to ask, what IS the point?!

Photos from my UK visit are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/uk-visit-marapril-08/ (password: moocow)