Not an entirely Heavenly weekend

Eager to use our season lift passes for the first time, we headed up to Lake Tahoe on Friday night with a group of friends (eight of us in total, in two cars). We made it there safely, even though I was somewhat worried about the road conditions: it was pretty icy in places, and in fact the temperature went down as low as -14°C. Our motel was right by the lake, and we had a great “suite” that slept up to eight people, so it was perfect, except for the fact that the hot tub was out of action.

We awoke to a sunny morning on Saturday and went to get our lift passes and skis. This took ages – there were lots of people. Once we’d sorted all that out, it was up on the gondola (which affords truly amazing views over the lake as you head up) to take in the runs of the Heavenly ski resort (that’s its name, really). While it’s still quite early in the season, which meant that a few runs were closed, the snow was pretty good and we had a really nice day’s skiing. I managed not to fall over at all. Jon did a few times, but mainly when he was trying to be clever, by doing jumps, for example. It’s hard to describe just how incredible the views are from up there. You can look down to the vast lake on one side of the mountain range, then down much further to a huge expanse of plains on the other, probably about 7,000 feet below. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so I can’t share it with you!

In the evening, we had a curry that Chris (one of our party) had made, then went out to a bar in one of the casinos. They really are weird places. Interesting to take a look at, but far from being my cup of tea! Certainly a very different world from San Francisco, peopled by a wide variety of folk, some of whom could easily be rednecks and probably quite a few of whom vote for George Bush. I couldn’t believe how much hassle I was given trying to get into the bar. Now, to go into most bars in America, you need to show ID, even when you’re clearly over the minimum drinking age of 21. So, I always carry my UK driver’s licence around for that very purpose. However, they didn’t like that at Cabo Wabo (the Tahoe bar) and asked for U.S. issued ID. Well, it just so happened that I had my U.S. Department of Homeland Security Work Authorization card on me, because I’d brought it as photo ID for my lift pass, but the guy didn’t like that either and had to call his manager over. Bear in mind – all this is just to determine that I’m over the age of 21! Anyway, they finally let me in, but what a joke! Especially as I only ended up drinking water anyway!

Back at the motel, I had maybe a couple of hours’ sleep before waking up feeling nauseous. The rest of the night was spent on the toilet. I suppose I’ll never know what it was: food poisoning, stomach bug… even altitude sickness was suggested, but needless to say, Sunday was a complete write-off. Jon very sweetly went out to get me drinks and Imodium in the morning, and took my skis back, while I lay around unable to do anything. Everyone went off skiing, and all I could do was sit in the reception area (got kicked out of the room at 11:30 am), dropping off every now and then, until they all returned. At least it was a nice reception – sofas, fire pit, Christmas tree, view of lake and snowy mountains – but it didn’t compensate for missing a day of skiing in near perfect conditions. It was then a long drive back to San Francisco, with a dinner stop at a diner in Vacaville, followed by a very deep sleep for me!
I went to work today, while Jon did the shopping, picked up the turkey and made more mince pies. I got an emergency call at lunchtime because there were no brussels sprouts in Safeway or Trader Joe's, but I got lucky in the supermarket near my work. Tomorrow we’re catering for ten. It should be good fun – just hope I have some appetite back by then.

Not an especially blog-worthy weekend

Just a quick blog this time, as I don’t think there’s a huge amount to say. So, what have I done in the last week or so? Well, last Wednesday I went to see a friend from work play with his band in a bar, which was fun, although the lead singer was possibly the cheesiest guy on earth! On Thursday, I went to see a film at the Alliance Française, touted to be a French Christmas flick. Well, it was the usual stuff so typical of French films – lots of moodiness, infidelity and nothing really tied up at the end, but at least it was good for my language practice! Especially since I got to chat to work friend Elizabeth’s native speaker Algerian husband. Wow, that was a complex sentence!

On Saturday we did lots of cooking: Jon baked mince pies and I made two Christmas puddings. The mince pies are great – you’ll have to wait for a verdict on the puddings. In the evening it was my office Christmas party at a fairly upscale restaurant called “Paragon”, located south of Market Street. The food was great. We also had an open bar, which for me turned out to be not such a good idea. However, it was a fun night, even if it was then followed by the apparently post-thirty (trentagenarian?) concept of the two-day hangover, which was not so enjoyable. Don’t worry: I’ve vowed NEVER to do it again! So, not a great amount got accomplished on Sunday, but we did try out another North Beach Italian restaurant in the evening and then went to see the Christmas decorations downtown.

The other thing I did at the office party was invite three more people to Christmas dinner. I’m now up to ten! Yikes! Ordered a free-range turkey from the Farmer’s Market at the Ferry Building yesterday for pick-up on Christmas Eve. I’ll let you know how it goes!

Christmas is a-coming

Had a cold last week – I blame the guy who drove the shuttle from the airport, who was making some terrible snuffly noises! Decided to go downtown to do some shopping on Saturday. Jon had some Christmas shopping to do and I wanted to buy something to wear at our office parties. It’s no less hectic shopping in the weeks before Christmas over here: Union Square and Macy’s were packed. Didn’t find anything for the parties, but I did get a new pair of jeans and a handbag. It was then a mad rush to get ready for Jon’s company Christmas party when we got back. We caught the cable car back to Union Square and went to the dinner at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel. It was certainly a fun evening, although I didn’t think the food was that great. Afterwards we went to a couple of bars: one near the hotel and then the classic Savoy Tivoli back in North Beach. Carefully avoided giving my opinion on George Bush to Jon’s Republican office manager.

Sunday was another beautiful, sunny day, which filled me with a desire to go out for a long walk. This couldn’t be achieved until I’d gone out to the corner shop to get bacon and then cooked pancakes to help cure Jon of his hangover. I did persuade him to go for a hike, though. On the way, we stopped by the English grocery shop to get some mincemeat for mince pies, which don’t exist over here. We then headed over the Golden Gate to Marin County and did a pleasant six-mile hike up into the hills and around a valley, which offered views of Mount Tamalpais, the North Bay, San Francisco and the ocean with the Farallon Islands in the distance. Saw a few hawks flying around, but no large felines, even though we were on the Bobcat Trail.

On our way back, we stopped at Fort Mason, where Christmas trees were being sold from one of the covered piers. We went in and chose one (pretty pricey), then had fun trying to work out how to fit it in the BMW without scratching the leather seats. Back at the flat, we decorated the tree and Jon set about his pastry “dry run” – making coconut macaroons and raspberry tarts before setting about the mince pies. Before we knew it, it was the end of another weekend. However, I started the week off well with a lovely jog this morning along the waterfront. The views across the Bay to the Bridge are truly amazing as the sun rises.

Second week in Mexico

We were glad to get out of hurricane-struck Mahahual, which was pretty depressing, even though our hosts went to such great efforts to make our stay as pleasant as possible. From there, we drove to the Calakmul Biosphere Reserve, a UNESCO World Heritage site. We were now in rural Mexico, a very different world from the reasonably well-off tourist hotspots up the coast. On the way, we visited the Mayan site at Becan, which had a good array of structures including a classic stepped pyramid.

I was a bit disappointed with our accommodation. It was quite expensive, and the website looked wonderful, so I was expecting “luxury in the jungle”. Rather, it was a case of woefully inadequate mosquito nets, expensive but less than stellar food, and a grumpy waiter/receptionist who only spoke Spanish. Now, although I’m a linguist, I’ve never learnt Spanish; I understand the written language pretty well, but was struggling with communication in my pidgin creation, which consisted of speaking Italian and throwing in the odd Spanish word! It was also incredibly hot and humid there, and we were kept awake by weird growlings, which turned out to be howler monkeys (pretty cool!). The good thing about the place was that it was well located for visiting the Mayan city of Calakmul itself, set deep in the heart of the jungle near the border with Guatemala, some 60km down a narrow dead-end road. We wandered around for ages, wondering what all the fuss was about, then finally stumbled on a huge pyramid. Once we’d climbed it and got above the trees, we had a fabulous view: jungle in every direction as far as the eye could see, with the odd partially excavated Mayan structure poking out above the canopy. On the way back to the car, Jon spied a toucan, but I missed it. We did, however, see several parakeets, wild turkeys and a tarantula.

From Calakmul, we moved on to Campeche, a pleasant colonial town on the Gulf of Mexico coast. We hadn’t planned to go there, but we were both craving a return to civilisation! It was a lovely place: historic cobbled streets lined with colonial-style homes in a palette of pastel shades. We had dinner at a restaurant overlooking the central plaza with its classic twin-towered cathedral. The next day, we continued to the larger city of Mérida. It too had an attractive colonial-style plaza, and we did a bus tour to get our bearings. However, I wasn’t wild about the place. It may have had a million inhabitants but it felt provincial, was polluted, confusing and rather worn. We had just one night there, rather than the two we had planned, and moved on to Chichen Itza afterwards, the best preserved and most famous of the Mayan sites in the area. The hotel there was a pleasant surprise: it was really cheap, yet it was friendly and had a couple of pleasant sun decks and swimming pools. On the first day, we visited some caves with more stalactites and stalagmites, where Mayans had left hundreds of jars as offerings to the gods. It was a bit spooky, especially since it was inhabited by a good number of bats. In the evening, we went to the sound and light show at the great pyramid, saving our more extensive visit of the site for the next day. We went early, to get a head start on the coach-loads of visitors from Cancun. There were lots of structures dating from around 800 to 1200 A.D., including a fabulous ball court, a platform decorated with carvings of skulls (where the Mayans actually displayed the heads of their enemies and human sacrifices) and an impressive central pyramid. What surprised me, however, was how little is known about the purpose of the buildings and the ceremonies the Mayans performed. There are several structures that the Spanish conquistadors named according to what they looked like to them – an observatory and a nunnery, for example – which are still not properly identified even today. Chichen Itza was certainly impressive, but not as fun as Calakmul, which really had that “lost in the jungle” feel, where you could scale the pyramids to your heart’s content (they were all roped off at Chichen Itza).

We took a long detour up to a remote fishing village on the northern coast of the peninsula called Rio Lagartos, an area of wetlands rich in wildlife. Travelling up there was a pleasure – we passed through several, “typically” Mexican villages, with old churches, sunny plazas, children playing. When we got to our destination, we managed to commandeer a boat and captain to take us on a ride to see the flamingo colony. The birds were some distance away, but it was still lovely to see them in the wild. The water of the lagoon they inhabited was ultra-salty and tinged pink by beta carotene in the clay, which was also the cause of their colouring. On the way back we saw a crocodile. The boatman put on a show by slapping the water and encouraging the croc to come so close that he could grab its tail! We also saw a fish eagle and an osprey. It was then a long drive to downtown Cancun, where we spent the night in a nice hotel, revelling in the cleanliness!

Our flight was in the afternoon, so we went to the airport via the “Zona hotelera” (the hotel zone) of Cancun, a long row of gargantuan, primarily upscale hotels strung out along narrow islands enclosing a lagoon on one side, with the Caribbean Sea on the other, connected to the mainland by a series of bridges. This is what Cancun is famous for, but I really disliked it. Sure, the sea is an incredible colour, ranging from brightest turquoise near the white sand shoreline to deepest blue on the horizon. However, it’s a completely fabricated place, constructed with little thoughtfulness, and most of the hotels are just plain ugly. I don’t know what people see in it, but I was glad we’d gone to take a look. I had some criticisms about the trip as a whole, but two weeks in Cancun would have been miserable!

We were relieved to make the rather tight connection in Mexico City and arrived back to a rather chilly San Francisco late yesterday evening to find signs of Christmas cheer everywhere: lights around the skyscrapers and even a brightly lit tree on Angel Island, which we see behind Alcatraz from the apartment. Today we awoke to the sound of our own flock of parrots chattering loudly as they passed by in their morning flight, and were glad to be home in our beloved city with drinking water on tap, decent plumbing and a distinct lack of mosquitoes! I know I sound terribly condescending and don’t mean to – it’s just that you appreciate these things more when you’ve not had them for a while! We had lots of chores, but took a short jog in the afternoon, delighting in the fact that the beaches are open again and there’s no longer a smell of oil after the spill. We’re still having a nightmare sorting our remortgage out for the house back home (boring!), so I’m crossing my fingers for that as well as hoping that the return to work won’t be too much of a shock tomorrow. Photos from Mexico are available here: http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/mexico/ (password: moocow)

First week in Mexico

Our first stop after landing in Cancun was Playa del Carmen, some 60km to the south, a lively, yet laid'back town. The first day was divided between the beach and shopping (Jon bought lots of clothes), rounded off by a tasty meal of ceviche and paella, then drinks at an outdoor bar with live music.

Heavy rain greeted us the next morning. The place where we had breakfast even starteed flooding! We beat a hasty retreat from the town and headed for our next destination, Tulum, just 40km or so down the coast. The rain continued for much of the journey, but managed to keep off while we visited our first Mayan ruin, dramatically positioned on rocky terrain with the Caribbean Sea as a backdrop. We then moved on to our accommodation, a wooden cabin, or cabaña, by the sea, fronting a lovely palm-fringed beach. It was in a type of eco-resort, so there was no electricity which meant that everything had to be done by candlelight after around 5:30pm.

While staying in Tulum, we went on a couple of excursions. The first was to a group of cenotes or underground pools/rivers, featuring spectacular stalagmites and stalactites. We did a guided snorkel tour of two cenotes - the first large and airy, the second just a series of unlit narrow tunnels, so pretty claustrophobic! The water was so clear and the cenotes so deep and expansive, that looking down felt almost like flying.

Our second excursion was into the Siaan Kaan biosphere reserve. We took a speedboat trip on a vast lagoon, which was home to crocodiles (spied one resting menacingly by the shore, mouth agape) and many birds. We headed up a river and visited a small Mayan temple, before taking a swim (really a "drift" with the current) through the mangroves.

Our stay in Tulum also included some time on the beautiful, white sand beach and even a free (and rather painful!) morning yoga class. The downside of staying in a beach hut was that it was impossible to keep the mosquitoes at bay, which readily munched us both, and everything got more or less covered with sand. At US$115 per night, primitive living certainly came at a price.

After 3 nights in Tulum and a last barefoot jog along the beach, we continued our journey to Mahahual, which the guidebook had described as an idyllic fishing village south of the biosphere. The two-hour car journey there, down dead-straight roads, flanked on either side by flat rainforeest and punctuated by just one town, was tedious in the extreme. Soon after turning off the main road to drive the last 50km to Mahahual, I remarked on a metal road gantry, which had been bent double. Then I saw another and another. Jon mused than maybe this was hurricane damage. The news reports of Hurricane Dean had stated that little damage had occurred in Mexico, as the main force had only hit a rural area. the hotel had informed us that they were carrying out some light repairs and offered a reduced rate, so I´d imagined a charming, white-washed little town with maybe a bit of roofing work going on. How stupid I felt at not having researchyed further when we arrived at what had once been Mahahual, much favoured by cruise-ship toursits, now nothing short of a wreck. The town had been completely destroyed with barely a building left standing, the few remaining palm trees sad and bent, the mangrove backdrop dead, debris covering the beach, skinny dogs picking their way through the rubble. Of course, we were the only guests at our hotel.

At first, I was angry at the Dutch owner, Carolien, for not spelling the situation out to us, but then the anger gave way to compassion, especially after we´d taken a stroll around the "town". We very nearly decided to leave the next day, but decided to make the best of it when we saw the beautiful room, restored so lovingly, and when carolien told us she could get someone to take us on a snorkel trip to the nearby reef. It wasn´t the big adventure to the Chinchorro atoll that I´d planned, because that was badly damaged by the hurricane, apparently, but it was something. The reef was actually in remarkably good condition (I´d feared the worst after seeing a graveyard of conch shells and corel sea fans piled up on the beach) and there were plenty of colourful fish to be seen. Unfortunately, the trip was cut short by Jon injuring himself on a sea urchin (I heard him moaning, then saw a hand waving around with spines protruding from it). The boat man told Jon that the vessel were in had been found 5km down the coast after the hurricane.

Back at the hotel, there was really nothing to do. The weather was looking ominous, but we were hungry, so headed into "town" and had chicken fajitas in the most sturdy-looking cafe we could find, which was still a far cry from anywhere I´d normally eat in. I suspect we were their only lunch customes, but at least we were doing something to help the local economy!

We´ve done more since I jotted all this down on hand-written notes, but I´ll save that for the next blog, as I have to go to dinner now!

Oily trouble

Last Wednesday, in dense fog, a cargo ship crashed into the blocked-off area protecting the Bay Bridge from collisions. The crash created a gash in the side of the ship, through which leaked 58,000 gallons of oil. There have been criticisms that the relevant agencies were not informed quickly enough, and the oil was allowed to spread for several hours before action was taken. The end result is many oiled birds and pollution throughout the area. We experienced it first hand on Sunday when we went for our usual jog to Crissy Field. All the beaches were cordoned off, and there was a distinct smell of oil at nearby Aquatic Park. A dead seabird lay on the steps leading down to the beach. Rangers were out looking for injured wildlife at Crissy Field. It was heart-breaking.

We stuck around San Francisco at the weekend, but had a night out with our friend, Rob on Friday night. He flew back to England on Saturday. We had a cocktail at his very glamourous hotel downtown, followed by dinner at Café Prague, an authentic corner of Eastern Europe in California, then headed to Vesuvio for more drinks! It rained all day on Saturday, but we went over to Berkeley in the evening to James’ place for a poker night. Of course, we lost! Sunday was a beautiful day. After our jog, we went tea-tasting in Chinatown. I’d been meaning to do that for ages. We purchased a Siberian rose tea and a green tea. Then, in the evening, we headed to the cinema at the Embarcadero Center for a screening that formed part of the International Film Festival. My friends from Italian class had come up with the idea of going, because the first film was an Italian one. It was preceded by a reception in an art gallery and a brief introduction by the producer. However, none of us really understood the film, and that had nothing to do with the language, but rather the excessively large number of characters and the complete lack of plot cohesion.

We’re now getting ready for our trip to Mexico. I’ve been working hard, so I’m really ready for a break. The holiday will almost certainly mean there’ll be a break in blogging, for which I apologize.

Quaking earth and legs

Last Tuesday we had an earthquake – the biggest we’ve experienced, and, as it happens, the biggest in the Bay Area since Loma Prieta in 1989. I was still at work, even though it was just after 8 p.m. The room shook around for a good thirty seconds, but when I went out on the street afterwards, everyone was acting like nothing had happened! It was 5.6 on the Richter scale with an epicentre near San Jose.

Wednesday was Halloween. We didn’t do anything to celebrate it, but a few people dressed up at work. I hadn’t fully appreciated the fact that Americans use Halloween as an excuse to dress up as anything, not necessarily as something scary, so it was slightly odd to be in the office with a Roman and a sexy nurse. On Friday, however, we went down to the Mission district for an event that was much more Halloween than Halloween for me, the “Día de los Muertos”, or Day of the Dead. This is traditionally a Mexican celebration, but has of course been fully adopted in the Hispanic quarter of the city. It comprised a parade of people dressed in ghoulish attire, such as skeleton costumes, carrying candles for lost loved ones. The procession ended at a park, where local artists had made shrines, some of which were really ingenious – there was even a car that had been turned into a memorial. It is intended as a day to celebrate the dead rather than a sad and mournful occasion. Afterwards we got some food at a Taqueria, but for once it was a bit disappointing.

Yesterday, after a week of feeling fatigued and not wanting to exercise, we decided it was time to grace the gym with our presence. It was a beautifully sunny and warm day, so in the afternoon, after enjoying a coffee on the terrace of our favourite café, we hired bikes for a couple of hours and cycled to the Golden Gate Bridge and back, stopping off at the beach briefly along the way. It was hard to believe that one of the best beach days of the year was with us in November! Afterwards, we headed downtown to do a spot of shopping, then grabbed some dinner in Chinatown on the way back.

Today, we awoke to another gorgeous morning, which was even better for being an hour longer – the clocks went back in the night, a week later than in the U.K. We set off on our run, but were thwarted after only five minutes or so, when we reached the beach at Aquatic Park, because there was a Half Marathon going on, which ended there and blocked our usual running route. We decided to run to the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero instead, so set off in that direction, taking in the sealions on Pier 39 en route – at my insistence. We stopped at the end of the huge wooden pier by the Ferry Building and admired the view, before setting off back. There’s no obvious return route from there, but I suggested that we should really challenge ourselves by “jogging” up the Greenwich Steps. This is a staircase comprising several hundred steps, which clings to the steep eastern side of Telegraph Hill leading to Coit Tower. Well, there wasn’t much jogging done, as even walking up was enough to give most people a heart attack, but managed to get up and back down the other side, and it made for a scenic route home.

Rob, our friend from university who works for Google, came over late morning, and we set out to Marin to enjoy a bit of hiking. We didn’t end up walking as far as we’d intended, because the car park for our chosen hike was full, but we strolled some of the trails on the top of Mount Tamlpais, which afforded truly spectacular views of the city, ocean, Point Reyes and the Bolinas Lagoon. It turned out well for us, as our legs weren’t really up to the 1,500 feet descent and ascent we’d originally planned – not after the earlier Greenwich Steps jaunt, anyway. We then drove down to Stinson Beach and bought ice cream, which we enjoyed on the sand. There were plenty of people out sunbathing and splashing around. I had a good paddle myself in the deliciously cold water, then soaked up some sunshine. We drove back on stunning Highway 1 and dropped Rob off at his hotel downtown.