In vino ... corpulens

I discovered recently to my horror that I seem to be gaining weight, in spite of all the sport I’m doing. Could it be muscle mass? Unlikely. So what could it be? All the eating out and drinking, perchance? Well, living in a foodie city like San Francisco, I’m not going to give up eating out, which left only one thing: cutting back on the drinking. So, let’s see how that went in my first week of abstinence…

On Monday evening I had my Italian class. Normally, we have it in Candida’s office, but she invited us around to her place to meet her new pug puppy, Kathmandu. I took a bottle of wine for the hostess and so did Gami. We spoke Italian, ate nibbles, played with the pug and – oh – drank wine. Tuesday went rather better – went to my step class in the evening and didn’t drink any wine afterwards. But I did cook the chicken with wine – does that count? Wednesday came around. There was an open bottle of wine in the fridge – I’d used it for cooking the night before. I’m afraid I had a glass. It had been a hard day, OK?! On Thursday evening, the engagement celebration for Al and Sarah, a chap that Jon works with and his lovely Australian fiancée, was being held at a cool pub-cum-jazz bar in Berkeley. I went along, of course and – er – drank beer. Friday: eighties night at the Great American Music Hall, a truly fabulous venue. Listened and danced to three bands: Cure and Duran Duran tribute bands plus another group delivering up a range of classic hits. Also watched people bopping around in their eighties costumes (there was a “prom” theme), and enjoyed lovely old-fashioned music hall style table service. So of course, ordered a cocktail – and a beer.

The weekend at last! Had a few chores to do on Saturday, but was able to enjoy the afternoon on the terrace of Caffè Sapore and in the pool, as it was such a gorgeous day. We stayed in that night – and had a bit of wine. Today I went for a run in the morning, then met up with some friends (Gami from Italian class and others) to go on a hike in Napa Valley. Failed to consult the hiking book sufficiently and got lost among the redwoods. On returning to the car, was more than ready for the wine tasting at the vineyard down the road and appreciated the “bonus” dose of Zinfandel port we were given. Having more or less skipped lunch, we headed for the princely California Culinary Academy for dinner and sat on a terrace overlooking the vineyards and hills beyond. Spotted the delectable Trefethen Riesling, which I’d tasted before, on the wine menu and ordered a glass to enjoy with the sumptuous – albeit rather meagre – dinner.

So how did I do in my “dry” week? Not very well, it would seem! At least I can console myself with the fact that I’m burning lots of extra calories trekking up and down the eighteen flights of stairs to the flat, with both elevators having been out of action since Wednesday.

Life's a beach (when it's not foggy)

Got the weekend off to a good start on Friday night with a Chinese dinner out followed by drinks in Vesuvio, my favourite bar, with its retro décor and literary connections (it’s where Beat movement authors used to hang out). It’s been a fantastic weekend weather-wise, so I tried to get out and about as much as possible. Went for my habitual run to the beach at Crissy Field and back on Saturday morning – fortunately it wasn’t as painful as last time, as I’m a bit more back into my training now. We then headed out to the Marina district for an al fresco lunch, before wandering back along the waterfront and doing some reading on the little beach near us, which happens to have views across to the Golden Gate as well as to Alcatraz. It was idyllic – except for the wind, which kept whipping up sand and getting it everywhere – up your nose, in the cracks between the pages of your book… etc. etc. Jon continued his lazy afternoon at Caffè Sapore, while I took the BART (metro/train) to Berkeley and headed for the Au Coquelet Café, where a nice coffee and slice of blueberry torte awaited me, for my German conversation group. I hadn’t been in several months, but it’s quite fun to get together and enjoy a couple of exclusively Germanophone hours. We had an evening in (not before I’d stopped off to do a spot of clothes shopping on the way back home, as the shops are open pretty late) and sat down for a bit of a San Francisco film fest. I’ve recently watched Dirty Harry, which features lots of scenes in North Beach, and had been intrigued to spot our apartment block in a helicopter-flight scene. This time we watched Bullitt, which I’d seen before, but wanted to see again to find out how much I could recognise. The answer is, quite a lot. Although the famous car chase scene isn’t geographically accurate (one minute they’re heading along the marina and the next they’re out of the city on some perilous coast road), we were interested to see that places like Bimbo’s, a music venue visible from our balcony, were already in existence in 1968, when the film was made, and were then highly amused to see our apartment block from the back (we didn’t even realise it was built then).

Today we headed out to do a hike. There was much deliberation about whether to go north to Marin (which is more beautiful), or east to avoid the fog. We’d decided on east and were heading out over the Bay Bridge, when we realised that we could see Mount Tamalpais in Marin from there, and more importantly that it was fog-free, so we did an about-turn on Yerba Buena Island – snapping a couple of pics of San Fran from there as the views are so great – and made our way to the Golden Gate, which was completely shrouded in fog, even though it was bright and sunny on either side. We did a 7 mile hike on Mount Tam, which offered some good views north, but was mostly in woodland. We narrowly avoided stepping on a couple of snakes (admittedly rather small ones, not rattlers), but managed to evade the mountain lions again! From the car park on our return, we headed west to check out the view, which ended up being spectacular – all the way back to the city and beyond to the south and out to the Farallon Islands to the west. Having gorged ourselves on the vistas, we set off to Stinson Beach to gorge ourselves on some food.

I’d only passed through Stinson before on our way to Point Reyes, but it’s a lovely place, although very popular of course. We had a great dinner out on the terrace of Parkside Café beneath the foothills of Mount Tam, then took a stroll onto the beach itself, which is a huge crescent of fine sand backed by a tidal lagoon. It was stunning – and for once, reasonably warm. The evening fog forming a short distance off the coast only served to add to the drama. Contented, we set off back to San Fran, intending to take the spectacular Highway 1, clinging to the cliffs above the ocean, but had to turn back and opt for the not-bad-as-a-second Panoramic Highway instead, because there’d been an accident on the 1.

Morale boosting

If I’m to be honest, I’ve been feeling a bit down over the last couple of weeks. I attribute it to having to say goodbye to family and friends in the UK again, missing my old teaching job and returning to a fog-filled fortnight in San Francisco. While we had an exciting time in Yosemite last weekend, it was also pretty stressful, so ultimately didn’t help to improve my mood.

I was glad, therefore, when the weekend finally came along and with it some sunshine at last. On Friday night, we went to a party at Mark and Tom’s flat, not far from us in North Beach. It was lovely to see a few friends we hadn’t seen in a while, and a good time was had by all, playing Wii and throwing stuffed sea creatures from Ikea out of the window at unsuspecting passers by. We also had a bit of a Friends moment when we went up on to the roof, then got locked out (Friends fans will remember the same thing happening to Ross and Joey). Luckily, someone had a cell phone with them and could call down to the rest of the party below! This avoided the need to dice with death and leap onto the next roof to find a way down.

Saturday was the day of the Data Connection/Metaswitch company outing or “morale boosting” event (yes, they really do call it that!). It turned out to be very appropriately named. The event took place at Teatro Zinzanni, which is located in an opulent array of circus tents on one of the piers. We had to dress up for it, which was nice, and were able to enjoy free cocktails on arrival. We then took our seats in the main tent, which was lavishly decorated and attended by costumed waiters and waitresses. We were served a delicious five-course dinner over about three hours, whilst being entertained by a mixture of burlesque comedy, opera, cabaret and acrobatics. The acrobats were world-class and it was amazing to see them twirling around, almost literally above our heads, in such a small venue. I had a truly wonderful time and am only sorry I don’t have any pictures of the show, but photography was, understandably, prohibited. A plan was hatched to continue the evening at the Savoy Tivoli, a legendary bar in North Beach, and we were just debating how to get there, when we spotted a limo, ready for hire, right outside the Teatro. The driver agreed to take us to the Tivoli for a mere $5 per person (granted, it isn't far), so we couldn’t really refuse. It’s the first time either of us has been in a limo. We only had one drink at the bar, but someone in the party (think it was Oli) ordered a round of Fernet for everyone. This has become the signature San Francisco drink (not sure why): a shot of Fernet - a truly disgusting Italian liqueur - served with a small glass of ginger beer. Believe me, one is enough: I’d almost rather drink mouthwash!

Today we went for our customary run along the waterfront, which was more difficult than usual, as I hadn’t done it for nearly a month and a half for one reason or another. Afterwards I wanted to go on a hike (much to Jon’s disappointment, who just wanted to relax and do nothing). I’d bought a new hiking book and was keen to try one out in Marin. However, the traffic heading to the Golden Gate Bridge was so bad (it’s been getting gradually worse as the Summer has progressed – I blame tourists!), that we decided instead to do a hike on the San Francisco side, along the coast west of the city. It’s a hike we’d done before – in the fog – but this time we were in luck and had glorious weather. The walk takes you past some great viewpoints, through some wild spots, then the ridiculously wealthy Seacliff area to Baker Beach. Last time we did it, we saw dolphins, and I was stunned and delighted to see them again today. However, this time, there were a lot more – we saw them from the cliff top as well as frolicking in the water just off the beach, often followed by low-flying pelicans. So, overall, a good weekend for cheering me up!

Back to blogging at last

Apologies for the absence: I was in the UK for a week, and was then very busy on my return. Apologies should also be made for the fact that this will be a long one… are you sitting comfortably?

After being awoken early in the morning by a small earthquake and then enduring a caffeine-fuelled day at work on 20th July, I caught a shuttle to the airport, only to find that there were delays and huge queues as a result of the “severe” weather in London. I kept myself entertained while waiting and during the flight by talking to anyone that would listen, including, it would seem, about half the workforce of Google. Upon arrival in London – following a trip on the super-expensive but super-convenient Heathrow Express – I got my first dousing with rain as I tried to figure out how to get to Susie’s place. In spite of the fact that I was delirious with fatigue, we had a lovely evening, as my friend Emily came with her fiancé Emmet and we all went out for a long-awaited gourmet curry. The rest of the week was filled with a few torrential rain showers and many emotional reunions with friends and family: a marvellous barbecue at Dan and Michelle’s – attended by many friends – on the Sunday, during which the weather thankfully played ball and the rain held off; three days in Chesterfield visiting my mum and dad, brothers and aunty as well as Jon’s granny, not forgetting the new dog; then a couple of days visiting Jon’s dad and Pam (step-mum) in Devon, accompanied by a trip to the lovely north Cornish coast and Tintagel. We ended the week with the wedding of our university friends Andy and Dipika: a civil ceremony followed by a Hindu one at a beautiful converted barn near Bicester, Oxon. Again, the weather stayed fine when it mattered, and it was wonderful to catch up with so many chums again.

We returned to a foggy week in San Francisco (just as the weather apparently turned truly glorious in England!), so decided to escape for the weekend to Yosemite, as a group of friends were heading over there. I caught the BART (metro/train) over to the East Bay so that Jon could pick me up there instead of having to drive all the way back to the city from his office in Alameda. I chose a station in Oakland, where, it turned out, there was nowhere to park, so Jon pulled up at the side of the road – without getting out – to wait for me. Unfortunately, it happened to be a bus stop, and within about one minute (I’m not exaggerating) of being there, a police car had pulled up and was writing out a ticket for a $250 (£125) “parking” fine! I couldn’t help thinking that surely the police had better things to do: Oakland, not undeservedly, has the reputation of being a somewhat “sketchy” place – undoubtedly someone somewhere was being shot while the police department were engaged in collecting levies from law-abiding non-citizens.

The journey was otherwise unremarkable, and we arrived at our cabin in Groveland with enough time to spare to check out the local saloon and its interestingly named Friday night rock act, “Hot Daddy”. It was then up very early the next morning to head into the valley (some 50 miles away) to secure a pitch at the campsite. There is just one walk-in campground in the valley: all the others are booked up six months in advance at weekends, so the early start and long wait in line is the only option for those with a more spontaneous outlook on life. While waiting to register, a rumour went around that a car that had been trashed by a bear in the car-park. Of course, I went off to investigate. The car turned out to be only three along from ours. The driver’s side door frame had been pulled back, the window smashed, the back seat ripped to shreds and one of the rear speakers completely pulled out. It was hard to believe that a bear had done all this.

Our wait for a pitch was rewarded, and we all got a spot together on the northern edge of the campground, backed by thousands of feet of granite wall. Having pitched the tents, we headed out for brunch, then spent the afternoon by and in the deliciously cold Merced River: swimming, sunbathing, playing frisbee and splashing around in Cassie’s inflatable raft. After a nice beer it was back to the campsite to cook a barbecue.

Following the event of the previous night, I was determined to bear-proof the car. Instructions are posted everywhere you look to remove all food and toiletries (the furry beasts are apparently attracted by anything strong-smelling), and I had heard horror stories of people having their cars broken into for such items as discarded wrappers and chewing gum. I had almost completed a sweep of the entire vehicle, then finally came to the arm-rest, which conceals a cup-holder. That is when I made the tantalising scientific discovery that if you heat a forgotten can of Coke up to a high enough temperature by leaving it in a hot car all day, it will eventually explode. Suddenly the car became a bear-magnet, and I found myself wondering how those lovely plush leather seats would hold up to vigorous clawing. We cleaned up as best we could, but I was already mentally rehearsing the undoubtedly fruitless conversation with the insurance company.

After a superb barbecue, we retreated to our tents, where I found the new Thermorest I’d purchased to be remarkably comfortable. In spite of my earlier fears, I was drifting into a slumber when I became aware of a car alarm going off. I then heard some shouting and clapping, which I attributed to the high jinks of fellow campers. A few minutes later there was a shout just a few feet from the tent, “Black bear – right there!”, then … I joke not … “Go, bear, go!” It turned out to be a group of rangers, evidently tasked with scaring bears off. By the time we’d managed to scramble out of the tent, there was no bear to be seen, just a very starry night. As I stood in the cool darkness, wondering what to do next, I saw a meteor streak across the sky.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much – if any – sleep that night. I was just remarkably relieved when the sun came up and we found everyone, including the car, safe and sound. We packed up the camping stuff and headed out on a fairly short hike to Mirror Lake and beyond into Tenaya Canyon. We were much bemused as we were initially unable to find the lake: what I remember as being a large expanse of glassy water in the spring of 1999 had almost entirely dried up. It was a pretty hike, however, which we rounded off with another welcome cool-off in the river.

Heading home in the car, we decided to try playing the iPod, filled with trepidation as the cable input is positioned inside the Coke-bespattered arm-rest. Amazingly, it worked. The other potential casualty was the remote for the garage door. This had to be broken: it was swimming in liquid. Almost unfathomably, it functioned perfectly well when we returned, at last and somewhat relieved, to the apartment block. Yosemite is a wonderful place, but I have yet to enjoy a stress-free experience there!

Photos of the UK visit and the latest foray into Yosemite Valley are available at http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/ (password: moocow).

The way to a man's heart

What's the first thing an Englishman does on returning to his home soil after an absence of half a year? He goes for a curry, naturally! Four curries actually. It's amazing, but of all the things I miss most about the UK, curry is top of the list. Well, actually my friends and family are top of the list (honest) but you know what I mean. So whilst I was back in the UK this last fortnight, I've been taking full advantage and stuffing my face in Indian restaurants whenever the chance arose. I have gained four pounds during my visit - possibly not a coincidence.

What's the first thing an English expat does on returning to San Francisco after an absence of a fortnight? You probably guessed it - he goes for a burrito. The US equivalent of a curry. Cuisine imported from Mexico, adopted and perfected in the US. Nothing beats it... except British curry.

All alone!

Jon flew back to England (a week earlier than me) on Saturday. I was really sad to see him go, even if it is only a week! However, I had been invited round to my friend Gami’s place in the Sunset district for an English-themed event comprised of afternoon tea and watching the BBC version of Elizabeth Gaskell’s Wives and Daughters. I made scones especially for the occasion, and stopped by the British shop on California Street (aptly named, “You Say Tomato…”) to purchase clotted cream and jam to go with them. We were actually in Gami’s mum’s place, which purportedly has a view of the ocean from every room. However, as it’s July, alas, the fog was in and the ocean was barely distinguishable from the sky. We did have a lovely time with our tea and drama, though.

Today started very slow. I managed to force myself to do a run, although shorter than the usual. I wasn’t inspired because it was foggy again. I had lunch at Caffè Sapore – a delicious bagel for less than $6 (£3): you really can’t argue! Then I headed into town on the cable car to do some shopping. My friend and old neighbour, Karen, had requested I bring her something back from the States, plus I had a wedding present and some other bits to buy, so I had a nice browse around the shops on Union Square, which by now was blue-skied and sunny. Gami had invited me to another event – a free concert – again in the Sunset district out West, so I got on the Muni Metro (underground) and headed out there. However, when the train surfaced into the daylight (it’s only underground in the city center), the sun had gone and I was in thick, chilly fog – barely five miles from downtown! Anyway, I couldn’t get into the park where the concert was, because I arrived late and it was completely full (to the extent that they weren’t letting anyone else in), so I retraced my steps and came back to North Beach, where I was in blazing sunshine again! Talk about microclimates! I read my book for an hour and soaked up some sun in Washington Square, then came back to the flat, had a swim in the pool and did my Italian homework in the sunshine. Overall, a pretty good day!

4th July and Russian River Discovery

Wednesday was a holiday here – 4th July. We were so lucky, because it was a glorious day, although we weren’t out enjoying it for the first part at least, because we were instead engaged in a frustrating shopping trip downtown. However, we spent much of the afternoon by and in the pool, which was great, before heading out at twilight to catch some of the action down by the waterfront, where hordes of people were assembled in the park and on the beach, listening to a slightly dodgy band and patiently awaiting the fireworks. We had a sneaking suspicion that we might, in fact, get better views of them from our balcony, so headed back to the flat before they started. It turned out to be a very good move, as the fireworks were launched, simultaneously, from the end of a quay and a barge out in the Bay, offering us great views from our building. It was a stunning pyrotechnic display above the water, itself lit up by hundreds of boats gathered for the show.

The fog rolled in on Saturday, so we were glad that we had planned a weekend away to Russian River, a beautiful spot about 70 miles away in Sonoma County. We took a look at the little town of Sebastopol on the way – boasting plenty of nice gift shops and a chocolate-themed café, but otherwise not much to write home about – then had a picnic on the shore of the Russian River itself. We had an amusing time watching kayakers negotiate a log partially blocking the stream and saw one group capsize completely! It was gorgeously hot and sunny after the fog of city. After our picnic, we visited Korbel Champagne Cellars, and were delighted to find they offer a free tasting! As a result, we did feel more inclined to purchase, and came away with a couple of bottles of surprisingly good value “California Champagne”, as they call it. We were then very hot and more than ready for a swim, so we headed to a secluded little beach, which a friend had told me about (not signed from the road). The wide, shallow, lazily meandering river with an osprey hunting overhead was perfect for an afternoon dip. We were not the only ones to think so, and were entertained by a bulldog playing a game of catch with his owner in the water. This was followed by dinner in Guerneville – not amazing food, but nicely accompanied by live Jazz music. We then headed to our motel in the ugly, soulless town of Santa Rosa, some way east, as we had been unable to find any available accommodation in the Russian River valley itself. Flicking channels, we were highly amused – although also not a little appalled – to find an international hotdog eating competition being screened. All but one of the competitors were American, with the winner – who downed almost 60 hotdogs in twelve minutes – being a guy from San Jose, California. How proud we are!

Today we headed down the valley to the very end, where the Russian River meets the Pacific. We drove from baking sunshine into a chilly, fog-cloaked world by the coast, but were greeted by seals, geese and pelicans at the estuary mouth. We then did a gentle and pleasant hike in from Pomo Canyon down the valley to an ocean beach, again slipping in and out of microclimates along the way. We decided to have another swim in the river before returning home, but found the beach much more crowded than yesterday, so didn’t stay long. We drove back to a much chillier, foggy San Francisco over the Golden Gate.

More photos are available on the Fotki site (http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick/ password: moocow).