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.

Birthday Banqueting

Went to the dentist on Friday. Not a happy experience. In spite of having dental insurance, which both I and work pay into, they still found $2,000 worth of work that “needed” doing, of which I’d have to pay about $1,000. I had been warned that this might happen. After spouting huffily about how expensive it was and how I’d never had to pay that much, even when subjected to 100% costs in the UK, they commented about how they had to fix a lot of “bad dentistry” from Europe. Hm. I think they have to fix their books so they can afford to pay the four or so people who came and asked me if I wanted a drink (“hang on a minute, silly me, I thought this was a dentist’s, not a café”) and bail themselves out from the x number of lawsuits that get filed against them each year, because this is California after all. To help me get over the shock, we went out with Mark, Ollie and Tom from Jon’s work for cocktails in the evening. I had a sumptuous chocolatey one.

The weekend began rather hazy, but cleared to leave a couple of pleasantly warm, sunny days. On Saturday morning I had the important mission of going to get Jon’s birthday present, so it was off on the cable car downtown for me. In the afternoon, we headed over to Berkeley, where James and Emma have just started renting a house in the hills. It was a lovely place, complete with an overgrown garden looking down on to the bay and even an outbuilding. We bought picnic stuff, which we enjoyed in the Rose Garden, before pootling off down the hill, first to a rather creepy “bone shop” that Emma wanted to show us (it sold skeletons, not just animal ones), then to a purportedly British-style pub (its Britishness was undermined when Jon’s request for pork scratchings was greeted with blank looks). We played poker (just for chips – gambling’s illegal unless you’re on an Indian reservation – I’m not joking!) and for once I didn’t lose.

I’d been told that Saturday would be the best night for going to the Castro, the gay heartland of San Francisco, to see the Halloween festivities. Halloween in the Castro is much talked about, but it can draw in trouble-makers, which last year led to a stabbing, so I’d been advised that the Saturday before would be a better option. It was after nine when we arrived, so the party was definitely getting started and there was indeed some good people-watching to be done. Costumes ranging from jellyfish outfits to seventies divas, and that was just the men! Unfortunately, my camera battery had run out, so I don’t have any photographic evidence.

Sunday was Jon’s birthday. We slept in a bit, and he awoke in alarm, having forgotten an arrangement to Skype with his Dad. After opening his few cards and presents, we headed out for a jog so that we could earn our breakfast. We’d intended to go to Mama’s, supposedly a legendary brunch place on Washington Square. For us, it still remains the stuff of legends, because the line was so immense that we decided to abort the mission and go somewhere else instead, which still managed to do a satisfyingly stodgy American breakfast with pancakes, eggs, bacon and unlimited coffee. Afterwards, we took a hike up Telegraph Hill, because I had it in mind to see where the writer of The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill might live. Of course, there was no sign to show the exact spot, but I got a sense of the type of place he must inhabit by clambering down (and back up) the Greenwich steps, with homes clinging to the steep hillside on either side.

I proposed we take a frisbee to the beach in the afternoon, but we ended up wandering out onto the pier with the historic ships instead. We boarded the Balcultha, a cargo ship built in Scotland in 1886, and were amused by the group of kids who had the good fortune to be on some kind of field trip that involved them staying overnight on the ship and pretending to be sailors. We also went on an old ferry boat that used to take passengers over to Marin and was built for pre-Golden Gate bridge days. After that the wind had got up, making frisbee a tad tricky, to say in the least, so instead we strolled up to Ghirardelli Square, where the Ghirardelli chocolate factory used to be, and indulged in a hot cocoa. Upon leaving the café, our eyes were drawn to some kind of event that was going outside a pet shop. It appeared to be a convention for Yorkshire Terriers, all dressed up in silly costumes (we spotted a fairy, two pirates, a bee and a pumpkin) and having a go at each other. Jon mused on whether dogs are capable of feeling humiliation!

Jon fancied sushi for his birthday dinner and found a place on the Internet a mere five blocks away. It’s an area we don’t often go to, despite its proximity, because it involves scaling steep Russian Hill. However, it was worth the climb, as it was really good food in a beautiful restaurant. We topped off the evening with a drink in a nearby wine bar before descending the hill back to the apartment.

Jon had a call from his brother, James, while we were in the restaurant. We were a bit surprised by the time of the call, but he was just coming off a night shift at the hospital in Luton. Today, a lovely hamper of British goodies arrived for Jon from his family. Not shipped from the UK, which would be too tricky with customs etc., but rather from a mail-order place in Delaware. We’re looking forward to some baked beans and Hob nobs! (Not at the same time!)

Sunny days

Last week was a bit difficult – no Jon to cheer me up and lots of work! I did, however, meet my friend Randan from volunteering days on Wednesday for a delicious meal at a gem of a Vietnamese restaurant in the area known as “Little Saigon” in the Tenderloin (generally viewed as a rather dodgy bit of town, but it actually boasts a few good, unpretentious eateries). I worked late on Tuesday and Friday, but finally got my lovely husband back late on Friday evening. We had a few chores to do on Saturday, but spent much of the afternoon nursing a latte in Caffè Sapore and planning the trip to Mexico, which is now only about four weeks away! Afterwards Jon went to get his hair cut, while I went to soak up some sunshine in Washington Square.

I could write a whole blog about the experience of sitting in Washington Square on a sunny Saturday afternoon. It’s a pleasant patch of greenery, triangular rather than square, flanked on one side by the ornate white façade of St. Peter & St. Paul Church. Behind the buildings on the eastern side rises Coit Tower, atop wooded Telegraph Hill. On the southern side the tip of the Transamerica Pyramid pokes out above the classic Edwardian architecture. From the right spot you can also see the distant hills in Marin. It’s always alive with an eclectic group of dog-walkers, football-players, big kids with remote control flying machines (in this case, a dragonfly), families, artists, pot-smokers and tramps. You can browse the artwork for sale in the south-west corner, join the elderly Chinese folk for a bit of tai chi if you come early enough, or simply soak up the atmosphere and the sunshine. Relaxing there really is one of San Francisco’s pleasures.

In the evening, we went to a housewarming at Dave and Oli’s new flat (two of Jon’s work colleagues). The downside was that it was in Oakland in the East Bay, so it involved a slow bus journey through Chinatown to Market Street, then a trip on the BART to Oakland, and a rather long walk to their place along the banks of Lake Merritt. It was good to see everybody again, though.

Today we awoke to another beautiful day – as clear as yesterday, but warmer still. We started out with our jog to Crissy Field and back, revelling in the stunning views. We then headed for our favourite beach in Marin – Tennessee Beach – for a bit of rest and reading. It was as lovely as ever, but the waves were definitely bigger than I’d seen them before. We were both feeling tired, so fed our caffeine addiction at Caffè Sapore (again!) upon our return to the city, before heading out to meet my friends from Italian class at the Italian School fundraiser. It was held very close to us, at the Italian Athletic Club, which fronts onto Washington Square. We enjoyed the wine and nibbles, and I got to meet Gami’s new boyfriend, Nick. Both Candida and I expressed a wish to go up to the balcony, which was actually out of bounds, but we found it anyway! It was on these rooftops that Clint Eastwood staked out the serial killer in Dirty Harry. To finish the evening, we went for a nice gelato at another of my favourite spots in North Beach.

Back to work tomorrow – yuk! Especially as it’s forecast to be in the eighties on Tuesday! It really is incredible for late October. Something else I noticed the other day: by this time in the UK, all the shops are crammed with Christmas stuff, but there’s none of that here. It’s all Halloween at the moment, then after that it’ll be Thanksgiving. Christmas won’t hit until it’s actually December – how about that?! What a dream!

Departures and decadence

Yet another tough week at work – I’ve just got so much on! Still managed a couple of nights out with Dan and Michelle, though: the healthy delights of Samovar Tea Lounge followed by less healthy cocktails at the Top of the Mark on Thursday, then North Beach Italian (Café Divine on Washington Square) on Friday. For once, it was actually clear at the Top of the Mark and we were able to enjoy the views over the city and bay. Rob, our friend from university who now works for Google, is over for work, and he met us there. We were pretty much obliged to go out on Friday, even if we hadn’t planned to, as a power cut – presumably caused by the heavy rain we had that day – brought darkness to us and our immediate vicinity for some 12 hours.

Saturday was a day of departures. Dan and Michelle left for home – but not before doing a bit more sightseeing and meeting me for lunch at Caffè Sapore. The weather was glorious, so we sat outside in the sunshine. Jon also left – for New Hampshire, where he’s attending another test event. I headed over to see the sealions, whom I’d not visited for a while. There were hordes of them, and they were either sleeping or fighting in highly amusing fashion. After doing some food shopping, I returned home and then headed out to the famed City Lights Bookstore. I’d decided it was time to read some more San Franciscan literature, and purchased The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill, as I’d grown interested in them after seeing or hearing them most days for the last several months.

Today I awoke to fog, but still headed out on my 5½ mile run to Crissy Field and back. I then got ready to go and meet Rob, who, it turns out, is staying in a fabulous hotel downtown, with a lobby like an art gallery. We took the bus out to a rather grey Cliff House, perched on a rock above the ocean. We indulged ourselves in a champagne buffet brunch to the sound of harp music, which felt very decadent indeed. It was only right that we should take some exercise after gorging ourselves so heartily, so we took the coastal trail up to Seacliff, onto Baker Beach and beyond to the Golden Gate. Bizarrely, the fog was only hanging over the ocean side, while the bay enjoyed relatively sunny skies. We picked our way down to Crissy Field and headed on to the Marina District, past the lovely Palace of Fine Arts. After more than six miles of hiking from Cliff House, we were certainly ready for a hot beverage. My own new tipple is a chai latte – a gorgeous spiced tea with frothy milk. It was then back on the bus – to North Beach for me and downtown for Rob. Spoke to Jon on the phone. He’s arrived safely and successfully set up today. I miss him already, though!

L.A. or bust

I flew out on Friday evening to Los Angeles to join Jon, Dan and Michelle, who’d driven down there in a convertible Mustang they hired from San Francisco. They’d had a great time taking in the stunning Big Sur coast on the way down and visiting Hearst Castle, an absurdly opulent stately home. I’ll have to let Jon blog separately about his experiences en route.

We stayed in Venice Beach, at an art déco hotel rather past its best. Venice Beach turned out to be a rather schizophrenic place – very hip and trendy during the day, with lots of people roller-blading, selling art and otherwise parading down the promenade by a perfect palm-lined beach. However, at night it was a different story. Absolutely dead (nothing open) and populated only by drunks, drug dealers and the homeless. Really quite dangerous. Fortunately, Jon, Dan and Michelle had already found this out on the first night, so I didn’t have to subject myself to it personally! On the second night a fight broke out just outside the hotel – lovely!

After a hearty breakfast on Saturday, we headed up to the Getty Museum, which had been recommended to me by a colleague. This comprises an amazing collection of superbly designed buildings atop a bluff with panoramic views of the city, ocean and Santa Monica Mountains, accessed by a monorail from the car park. The buildings house the Getty Foundation art collection, an eclectic mix of pieces ranging from medieval manuscripts through the decorative arts to Monets and photography. It was such a beautiful space, with stunning architecture, fascinating art, gorgeous gardens and amazing vistas. The kind of stuff that’s good for your soul, especially after a difficult week. I particularly liked the Impressionist room, which included one of Van Gogh’s Iris paintings. Moreover it was free, since the Getty Foundation has so much money! We ended up spending a large part of the day there, before heading off to find the Hollywood sign (not easy!) and going for dinner at a Mexican in Santa Monica (just north of Venice, also on the coast). The food was great, but the service less than stellar.

On Sunday we enjoyed another nice breakfast at a café further down the promenade – a great place for people-watching. We then checked out and went to Hollywood Boulevard to look at the hand and footprints of the stars outside the Chinese Theatre, as well as the Walk of Fame. Didn’t spot any famous people, though – alas! Dan and Michelle dropped us off in Santa Monica, before setting off on the drive back to SF (we’d booked flights some weeks before, as we weren’t sure what their plans would be). We spent a bit of time on the beach (the weather was gorgeous) and browsing in the town, then flew back at just after 8 p.m. Amazingly, Dan and Michelle had a great drive and managed to beat us back!

It was a really fun and interesting weekend, but I was still happy to return to San Francisco. L.A. is a completely different place: really sprawling, which forces you to drive everywhere, and nowhere near as attractive. Not a place I’d want to live, in spite of the wonderful weather. I found myself looking down my nose at it a bit, which must mean I’m a true San Franciscan now! More photos are available on the Fotki site (http://public.fotki.com/EllenHardwick - password: moocow).