la v and jak travel the world

lavjaktravels has moved!

2011-05-02T15:34:00.000-07:00

Hello World!

This is just a little note to let you know that this blog has moved to wordpress.com. We've been thinking about moving to wordpress for some time, since we have a number of other blogs also on wordpress, and it just makes things a little bit more convenient. But the decision was finalized on a recent trip to China, where we realized that blogspot is blocked by the "Great Firewall of China!" We exported all of the content from this site over to it's new home while we were on the road, and I think you'll like the new digs. Please check it out when you get a chance... we've so enjoyed traveling with you over the years and hope to continue doing so for many many more!

A little teaser of what you'll find at http://lavjaktravels.wordpress.com

Mayakoba Day 6: Time to Go Home?? Boo...

2010-08-18T22:12:00.000-07:00

Sigh... Our last day in Mayakoba.

We decided to wake up nice and early today to catch the sunrise at the beach. At 6:30 am, we called for a buggy which whisked us swiftly to the waters edge. When we arrived, we weren't sure if we'd missed the sunrise due to a cloudy day...

But soon, we were rewarded in a most spectacular way, when the sun slipped quite suddenly over the clouds.

We took an early morning dip, our last of the trip. It was pretty surreal, with the sun blazing the way it does as it's rising, and with us having the whole beach to ourselves.

Soon enough, the sun was in it's normal place, so we walked up the steps to the beach club pool, and napped for about an hour before breakfast.

I was going through my "end of vacation" blues so there were no happy breakfast pictures on this day. We did, however, spend our last hour in Mayakoba enjoying our villa to the fullest- a final swing in the hammock...

... and a last minute float 20 minutes before check out.

Before we left for Mexico, all of the weather reports for the area claimed that it would rain the entire time we would be on vacation, but we were blessed with incredible weather. In fact, it seemed like it rained all around us, from Cozumel to Playa del Carmen, but in Mayakoba, they must have the ability to control the weather or something. The only rain we encountered was while we were waiting for our ride to the airport. I think Mexico was sad that we were leaving too.

The flight home was easy and uneventful, and we were promptly picked up at Sea-Tac by a grinning Shane, a good reminder of all the blessings we have here in Seattle, and one of the reasons why home is home.

This trip deviated from our previous "Big Trips" of years past. Instead of a completely planned out multi-city extravaganza that has us on the go every day for 2 weeks, this time, we basically spent a week parked out on a beach, something we haven't really done since our honeymoon to Moorea and Bora Bora. In fact, this felt much like a second honeymoon, filled with romantic moments, complete relaxation, indulgences, and lots of swimming. I don't think I've seen Jack so idle since... I don't know when. But it was nice just to see him staring off at the ocean, or napping in the sun. And you know, as much as I love planning out a good, jam-packed itinerary, there's something to be said for a blank schedule, for waking up in the morning and seeing what the day may hold. We needed this. It was a tough winter/spring, and I think this trip rejuvenated us both, gave us some good quality time together, and gives us a chance to recharge for whatever comes next.

Hopefully, there will be more Banyan Trees in our future... we've been ruined. This was truly hospitality at it's finest. It was pretty amazing that most of the staff knew our names by the second day that we were there. From Zuleyka's friendly welcome and beautiful smile, to Alejandro, our waiter who bent over backwards to make our breakfasts phenomenal experiences every single day, to the attentiveness of Erik and Federico, the two managers at Tamarind and Oriente respectively, to Mariel's exquisite knowledge of tequilas, Rubi's gentle, sweet greeting as she watched me swim laps around the main pool before breakfast and Samuel's cheerful "whistle while you work attitude" as he transported us from one part of the resort to another, we felt like no stone had been left unturned. It wasn't just that these people are really good at what they do, it actually seemed like they loved it. In fact, Samuel actually told us that he will often take over the shifts of his colleagues because he loves work so much that he never wants to leave! I can't imagine never wanting to leave work. From all accounts, it does seem like the Banyan Tree Company treats it's employees well, providing good housing options, multiple meals a day, and training locals in the art of hospitality, so that they can develop skills and build careers. At the same time, we were impressed by all of the efforts the resort put into re-developing the surrounding nature preserve, educating it's staff in protecting the environment, and utilizing a green philosophy within the resort.

At some point, as we drank cold drinks on our private beach, (or maybe it was while we were floating around in our villa pool), I asked Jack, "What would it take to be able to live here?"
He responded, "You either have to win the lottery or become a day trader."

So my question is, does anyone know anything about day trading??

Mayakoba Day 5: Best. Day. Ever.

2010-08-14T22:28:00.000-07:00

I'm skipping day 4 in the hopes of getting some photos for that day off of the page of a new facebook friend that we met in Mexico, to help you visualize all the crazy things we did on that day... so we'll come back to day 4 another time.

Moving ahead, day 5 was filled with a few of my favorite things...

Breakfast!

Free eco-tour boat ride in the Mayakoba lagoon...

Unusual sightings in the man-made lagoon, which has turned into a natural habitat for wildlife.

Baby gray herons...

A baby crocodile!!

Seaweed maintenance...

Teenaged crocodile, hanging out on the rocks by the Fairmont... our guide had to call her colleague at the Fairmont to warn him about the beast on the hotel grounds!

My tattoo got some good air time...

Mr. and Mrs. Iguana...

Our boat captain Ignacio, who had eyes like a hawk.

In the afternoon, we sailed off to the beach, to relax in the cool, crystal waters.

We loved the beach club!

We made it back to the resort by 3:30 in the afternoon, just in time for our spa treatments!! The Banyan Tree Spa is one of the best in the world, and in Mayakoba, they actually relocated some of their spa attendants from Thailand to help train the staff in Mexico. My 120 minute facial came with a full body massage, and Jack enjoyed the complimentary 60 minute Balinese massage which came with our room, but was lengthened to 80 minutes just because his therapist was nice. No pictures, unfortunately, but needless to say, the experience was perfect and tranquil, one of the best spa days we've had.

For dinner, we headed over to Saffron, Banyan Tree's signature Thai restaurant. We requested the special sweet heart table out on the edge of the lagoon, and watched the sky change colors during the course of our meal. In spite of the heat and the mosquitoes, we loved our dinner. There was much sighing, as we knew that it would be our night in Mexico.

After dinner, we took one last evening stroll through the grounds, and found that our friend the cigar man was back, so Jack purchased another Cuban to cap off our perfect day.

Mayakoba Day 3: Mexican Cooking School

2010-08-12T23:37:00.000-07:00

Sigh... just another beautiful day in paradise. Before breakfast, I lounged around in the hammock while Jack played in the water.

Ah... breakfast! Quickly becoming one of my favorite times of the day!

Here were some of the offerings on this gorgeous morning: Seared Ahi Tuna with grapefruit and mint, and a poached egg dish served with green sauce.

I can't get enough of this tropical fruit!

A comparative analysis of the two pools we swam in after breakfast. The main pool, Reflections, vs. our own villa pool. There's no comparison. Both are awesome!

In the early afternoon, we took a complimentary Mexican cooking class, offered by the head chef of the Oriente, the restaurant where we eat our breakfasts. On the menu for today, we learned how to make pico de gallo, guacamole, and grouper ceviche. Not much cooking involved, but when you get to eat what you make, it's always a good time.

We were joined in the class by only one other couple, a really cool husband and wife from New York City, who we actually saw around quite a bit over the next few days.

After the cooking class, more swimming!

Hanging out at the swim up bar, as we awaited our drinks.

Drying out on the rooftop lounge...

... and a view of the mangrove canals.

At 4pm, we had scheduled a walk through the Spa's Rainforest room, basically a set of 8 different stations where we went from Rain-head shower, to eucalyptus steam room, to another tropical rain forest shower room, to a humid sauna, to a dry sauna, to a jungle shower, to an ice scrub, to a salt steam... it was like being in a carwash. Totally fun and rejuvenating, and culminating in a long soak in a huge, indoor whirlpool. The room was beautiful and we tried to sneak back in later to take a picture, but it was locked. We soaked in the whirlpool for so long, that our attendant actually had to come in and, very kindly, kick us out!

Soon enough, it was sunset, and we got ourselves ready to head out to Sands, the restaurant on the beach that was hosting a barbeque that evening. As we waited for a buggy to drive us over, Mariel, the manager of the rooftop lounge, came over and said, "Excuse me, Senor and Senorita Chen, I believe you are signed up for our complimentary tequila tasting, no?"

How could we forget??

So we followed her over to the lounge where she had 5 different tequilas set up and ready for us to taste. I'm not normally a big tequila fan, but as she explained the characteristics of each one, I think I actually gained some respect for a liquor that I associate mostly with crazy college kids and worms. Each one that she poured was so different, and the last one actually had a buttery, velvety finish, very much to my liking.

On our way to the barbeque, we caught this fantastic sunset, a deeply satisfying end to a gem of a day.

Mayakoba Day 2: Cozumel and Cuban Cigars

2010-08-12T17:57:00.000-07:00

Our second day at the Banyan Tree started off pretty fantastically. Breakfast made me so... happy.

We had booked our room with an all-you-can-eat breakfast included, and oh what a breakfast! Fresh, delicious Mexican delectables, freshly baked breads and pastries, tropical fruits galore, a whole menu of egg dishes made to order, and freshly squeezed juices... heaven!

Coffee came in this cute little jacket, and halfway through coffee, juice, Mexican hot chocolate and iced tea, the servers came through with trays of apple cider spiked with champagne! Don't mind if I do...

We had some fun with these heads as we waited for a cab to Playa del Carmen.

A view of the roof top lounge during the day...

Too bad our camera isn't waterproof. It was tucked safely away in a dry spot as we snorkeled out near Cozumel's coral reefs. Cozumel, a small island about a 30 minute ferry ride off the coast of Playa del Carmen, has the second largest reef system in the world, after the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, although much of Cozumel was damaged by Hurricane Wilma in 2005. It was interesting though, to see the measures being taken by the government to re-develop the coral reefs. We snorkeled in three different areas, and in each, there were some giant concrete bell jars sitting on the ocean floor, with colorful fish and other forms of marine life already growing around them. At one point, our guide pointed out a long skinny fish beneath us, and upon surfacing, he said, "Barracuda!" All I could think about was the opening scene in "Finding Nemo."

Speaking of fish, I'd forgotten that Jack is in fact, a marine mammal. He can hold his breath for several minutes, and can do the back stroke 15 feet below the water surface. At one point, he dived deep down among a school of hundreds of silver fish, parting them like the Red Sea as he swam a straight line through them, causing them to quiver silvery, diagonal streaks through the turquoise water... a beautiful sight, as I watched from above.

Jack sits on the helm of our little boat, chatting it up with three friends from Mexico City.

Back on Cozumel, we roamed through the town square...

...but we found the waterfront much more charming.

Back on Playa del Carmen, the beautiful beach was filled with weekend revelers.

5th Avenue, Playa's main street, stretched endlessly with shops, vendors, restaurants and bars. We found a cool looking place for dinner, and the server made us fresh guacamole table side. There is something really different about avocados in Mexico- so much richer and creamier, probably because they have a chance to ripen on the tree.

Back at the Banyan Tree, we found that a Cuban cigar maker had set up a work station in the rooftop lounge. He explained that he used wrappers and leaves procured from Cuba, and he himself was a third generation cigar roller.

We bought one and brought it back to our villa, enjoying the smooth, and refined flavor, puffing smoke rings while taking a dip in the pool. Definitely not something you get to enjoy everyday.

Mayakoba Day 1: Welcome to Paradise

2010-08-12T00:26:00.001-07:00

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire. As Scarlet O'Hara would say...

Jack and I have just returned from our big trip for the year- 6 days in Mayakoba, Mexico, just north of Playa del Carmen. We celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary in grand style at the Banyan Tree Mayakoba resort. Usually, on past trips, I would blog each day of our travel from the road, during bus rides or train travel, or at night when we'd settled in at our hotel. But this trip was different. Between swimming in our own private villa pool, drinking margaritas, swimming in the huge resort pool, eating the unbelievable all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet, sitting on the beach, drinking daiquiris, reading my book, getting spa treatments, indulging in dinner, and smoking Cuban cigars rolled right there on the premises by a 3rd generation cigar maker, who has time to blog and sort through pictures?

Alas, it was an incredible trip. Pretty much perfect from beginning to end. Here's how it all began...

Our friends Mike and Sonja, friends from New York who happened to be in Seattle for a wedding during the time that we would be in Mexico, happily gave us a ride to the airport late on Thursday night, in exchange for staying at our house while we were gone. We slept pretty much the entire way on our connecting flight to Dallas, where we had a 3 1/2 hour connection at 5am, Central time, which was 3am for us. It ended up being not quite so bad, once we found the pretty awesome Samsung entertainment center, decked out with comfy leather chairs. I watched at least four old episodes of "Saved by the Bell."

Midway through our morning, we heard applause coming from the terminal below, and turned to see this squadron of soldiers returning from a stint in Afghanistan. We joined in the cheering, which lasted at least 7 or 8 minutes, until the last soldier disappeared down the hall. I don't think I've ever witnessed such enthusiastic appreciation for our men and women in uniform... a good reminder that our armed forces aren't just "over there," but have lives and loves and homes "over here."

After a quick 2 hour flight, we landed at the Cancun airport right on time, found our bags quickly, and were met promptly at the curb by our transport service, a friendly lady holding a sign with our name. Wow, no missed connections, no lost luggage, no walking through a thunderstorm at midnight and getting lost while looking for the hostel in the dark? This is turning out to be a great trip already!

The 45 minute drive passed quickly, giddy with excitement as we were. Upon arriving at the Banyan Tree, we passed through at least three security checkpoints, the guards checking their lists to make sure that our names were among the arriving guests, and winding through a labyrinth of cobble stone roads, we finally arrive at the entrance to the resort; jaw-droppingly beautiful.

We were greeted by our resort host, Zuleyka, who gave us this refreshing drink made of the chaya flower and local honey, presented us with welcome bracelets, walked us through a tour of the grounds, and then introduced us to our gorgeous garden villa, named Cascabel, which means rattlesnake in Spanish.

The ridiculously luxurious bedroom...

... and an equally romantic bathroom...

...and open the sliding door from the bedroom, and you can stick your feet in the villa's private pool!

In the afternoon, we meandered our way along the mangrove canals to the private and secluded beach, where we pretty much parked it for the next 4 hours.

We were just about to walk back to our villa, when one of the staff asked us if we would like a ride back in the boat. Why yes, I think we would...

Aside from it just being totally cool, the boat ride also turned out to be a good way to become acquainted with the grounds. Below is Saffron, the signature Thai restaurant on the property.

As dusk fell, the courtyard came alive with the music played here by this trio.

Jack, slipping quickly into vacation mode, relaxes on the roof deck.

We had the good fortune to arrive on a night when the resort was offering a complimentary wine and tapas tasting at the rooftop lounge, so naturally, we signed up. The tapas ended up being a good amount of food, so we didn't even have to spend money on dinner!

Arriving back to our villa that night, with the warm breeze blowing gently, we jumped right back into our pool.

Como estas? Uh... muy muy muy muy bien!!!

Spain and Portugal 2009

2009-04-23T20:24:00.001-07:00

Our Big Trip 2009 brought us on a whirlwind journey through Spain and Portugal, from April 5 - April 19. In two weeks, we pondered the old world charm of Porto while sipping sweet port, marveled at the gold magnificence of Holy Toledo, and sampled Goya and tapas in Madrid. Moving on the Andalucia, we delighted in the Moorish splendor of the Alhambra in Granada, and were astounded by fancy, flamenco footwork in Seville.

Our pilgrimage north to Santiago de Compostela gave us a chance to breathe in the fresh, green scents of the Galicia country side and we ate everything in sight as we drove east towards Basque country. Bilbao and San Sebastian treated our tummies well, before we lived like royalty in Barcelona, the crown jewel of the entire trip. The following posts chronicle each day of our trip, beginning with the most recent day.

This beautiful part of the world overwhelmed us in so many ways, and we feel changed and blessed by our incredible journey. Enjoy!

Day 14: Te Amo , Barcelona!

2009-04-20T14:50:00.001-07:00

Why, oh why, didn't I learn Spanish in high school? I don't feel like I can adequately express how much I love Barcelona in English. Luckily, I was a big fan of the song "La Isla Bonita" by Madonna when I was a kid, and learned early on that "Te Amo" means "I love you!"

Another sunny (but supposed to be rainy) day in Barcelona, and this morning, we caught a regional train out to Cavas Freixenet, a winery located about 45 minutes outside of the city where they make cava. We didn't realize until our tour that 80% of the cava exported from Spain is under the Freixenet label. In the United States, they have a subsidiary in Napa called Gloria Ferrer, a beautiful little vineyard that makes some delicious sparkling wines.

Waiting for our tour of the facility to begin... love the brick barelled ceiling!

Cava and Champagne are essentially the same thing, except because the grapes do not grow in the Champagne region, you can't call it champagne. Instead, in Spain, cava is the bubbly of choice for celebrations. The method for producing the cava is essentially the same as champagne, and it was interesting to see how similar the caves were to the Moet Chandon champagne house I visited in Champagne last year.

Of course, all good tours end with a tasting of the product... these bubbles seriously went straight to my head.

Back in town and needing some food to edge off my buzz, we walked down the Ramblas towards La Boqueria, Barcelona's market of all markets. The Ramblas was absolutely electric on this Saturday afternoon and filled with people...

Sections of the market have traditionally sold pets..

...while other sections are reserved for street performers...

....while other sections burst forth with the colors and fragrances of flower stands.

La Boqueria stands right off the Ramblas, and you can smell the delicious food before you even see the entryway.

Right as we entered, we were greeted by the sight of a stand selling all sorts of fresh squeezed juices. My mouth began to water, as I realized that I haven't eaten a piece of fruit in a long time!

Fishmonger stands brimmed over with fresh seafood, featuring underwater critters specific to the Mediterranean Sea.

Aha... finally. Just what we were looking for. The market has little bars, grills, and cafes scattered throughout, but we found one right in the center that seemed to be bustling. We saw a couple that seemed to finishing up their lunch, and stood behind them at the counter to snag their seats when they stood up.

We ordered up a plate of fideua, which is a typical Catalan dish, similar to paella, but made with short, thin noodles instead of rice.

We also ordered the plato combinado of seafood, and were thrilled to receive clams, mussels, fried sardines, crispy octopus, calamari and cubes of fresh cod, all cooked to order by one tiny lady. Simple, pure and totally delicious.

I remember being in awe of the fruit stands when I visited La Boqueria 7 years ago, and I was glad to see that those golden images didn't exist only in my memory...

Check out the color on these figs!!

Full and happy, we both bought a cup of fresh-squeezed juice for 1 euro to sip as we walked (mine was mango-pineapple), and we veered off of the Ramblas and wandered into the Gothic Quarter. I love this old town. It seems that at every turn, around every corner, it's possible to stumble upon yet another gorgeous plaza.

I saw a man preparing to scrape off some of this colorful tagging, so I snapped a quick photo before he got started.

We wandered languidly through the streets, looking for a particular churro y chocolate place that Jack had read about. We found it at 3:55pm, and were sad to see the blinds drawn... but the note on the door said that they would reopen at 4, and they did!

We split a plate of the churros y chocolate... I mean, seriously, what's not to like and why are there no desserts like this in the U.S.?

A bit more shopping on our way back to our hotel helped us to beat out a storm which seemed to be blowing in. For dinner, we had 11 pm reservations at a restaurant called Espai Sucre in the Ribera neighborhood.

We'd read about this restaurant in, of all places, the Delta Airlines flight magazine on our initial flight to Spain. At first glance, you might think... oh, just another glitzy, modern restaurant serving avant-garde food... but then you look closely, and realize, this is a DESSERT RESTAURANT. As in, there's a 5 course tasting menu, where each course is a dessert! There were some meats and proteins on other tasting menus so you could have a full meal here, but I figured, if I could have a meal that was completely dessert, and multiple courses at that, wouldn't I? Why yes, I think I would. And I did.

I loved it! I mean, how can you resist such unique flavor combinations as bread pudding, bacon ice cream and miniature cubes of pineapple gelee? Or my fourth course, the olive oil cake with white peach ice cream, green olive foam and San Simon cheese? And then there was the Idiazable cake with foams, ice creams, gelees and powders consisting of the flavors of cherry, red beet, black beer and cacao nib...

I admit, this meal was not for everyone, and even as I write it down, I realize how weird it sounds. But it made so much sense in my mouth! I was concerned at first about eating an entire meal consisting of desserts, but actually, I did not find myself being over-sweetened or palate fatigued at all because there were so many interesting combinations balancing the tastes of sweet, bitter, salty and sour, as well as texture differences between crunchy, chewy, foamy, creamy and jelly. Every bite was like a spoonful of new ideas.

And so ended our last night in Barcelona. We took the metro back to our hotel and soaked in our last moments of Big Trip 2009. It was hard to believe that we would be leaving the next day, but we were so grateful for the time and the freedom spent together, exploring Spain and Portugal. We had incredible food, beautiful scenery, good friends, and really, the country exceeded even my highest expectations.

But of course, what makes every trip worth traveling for me these days is the time I get to spend with Jack. I love being at his side as we discover new sights, experience new cultures, taste new foods, and meet new people. We've always traveled well together, and as the years have gone on, I think that I've also come to realize that traveling has been an important part of our marriage. We've planned a big trip every year for the past five years now, and it has become a part of our annual rhythm. Traveling has brought us closer in so many ways and we've learned so many things about how the other person thinks, how the person will react to a certain situation, and how to work together to make the most out of a certain experience. All of this leads to a richness in our relationship and an alignment of mind in how we view and approach our world.

And so, we head back to real life in Seattle together. Usually I get the end-of-vacation blues, but this time, I'm more than content with sweet memories, because really, real life is pretty awesome with my husband at my side. Very sweet, indeed.

Day 13: Gawking at Gaudi in Barcelona

2009-04-20T14:01:00.001-07:00

This morning, we caught the 8:40 am flight from Bilbao to Barcelona, and made it to our hotel by 11am to drop off our things and hit the town. As we stepped outside, Jack said, "It's supposed to rain today, should we grab the umbrella?" I shrugged nonchalantly, waved my hand, and said,
"We're from Seattle... what's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words.

First stop? Lunch of course, and I'm pleased to report that my appetite was back in full force. We walked through our neighborhood, L'Eixample, drinking in the details of the beautiful apartment buildings, with their intricate wrought-iron balcony railings, stained glass detailings and stone molding.

Within walking distance of our hotel was a restaurant that Jack wanted to try called Hysop. We were the first diners that afternoon when they opened at 1:30pm, and we were ushered into a modern, minimalist-designed room with a brick barrel ceiling.

I loved the delicate accents of red scattered through the room... a red rose head in the vase, a long- stemmed rose hanging on the wall, a red chair surrounded by black ones along the banquette...

We both did the 3 course lunch menu, and I loved every bite of my foie salad, perfectly-cooked, crispy-skinned corvina, and rice pudding.

After lunch, we stepped outside into a thunder and lightning storm, which seemed to grow stronger with every step we took towards the Sagrada Familia, our next destination. As we walked, we ducked under some awnings and stepped into this beautiful, modernista house, labeled Casa Asia. The attention to detail and the soft, curving stone work was reminiscent of Gaudi's style. Turns out, the building hosts all sorts of events related to Asian education.

The storm let up to a light drizzle, and we ran towards the Sagrada Familia, one of the top attractions in Barcelona. Progress on the cathedral is slow... Gaudi began work on it in 1883, and work continues to this day, with a projected end date in another 25 years! I visited the cathedral about 7 years ago, and to be honest, not a whole lot has changed. I was still incredibly awe-struck by it, and Jack was also impressed by the genius behind the design. Gaudi's philosophy behind architecture stems from his experiences and observations of nature, and I did find that the spires of the cathedral resembled stalagmites in a way.

A glimpse of the Passion facade to the cathedral...

Walking into the catheral was a bit like walking into a cave, with the unique stone work and the curving streaming lines seeming more natural than man-made.

Outside, a scene of the Passion facade again above the side entrance. I found it interesting that the face of the Christ figure was left un-detailed, as was the face of the mother figure at his feet. Instead, the mother figure holds the shroud, with an imprint of His face.

After about an hour wandering through the catheral and the adjoining museum, we followed our map to another famous Gaudi design, the Park Guell. The park was originally intended to be a sort of gated, residential community, but these days, it is a whimsical park filled with the geometric shapes, patterns and lines so unique in Gaudi's work.

I loved these colorfully-tiled benches, waving gently around the outlook point.

We were so glad that the sun peaked out at this particular moment... can you seen the rainbow in the distance?

Throughout the park, there are some fantastical structures, which Jack commented, seemed sort of like an alien from outer space had come down to earth and planted itself. I added that it seems like if you touched the walls, you'd almost expect them to be warm and fleshy, and maybe a little bit sticky. But of course, they weren't.

We headed back to the hotel at 7 pm so that Jack could take a work conference call, and also so that we could rest up a bit. Since neither one of us were really hungry, we decided to take an evening stroll down the bustling Ramblas, the exciting pedestrian street that runs through the middle of the city, all the way to the waterfront.

Even at night, the street was action-packed, with street performers, artists, musicians, locals and tourists all out to check out the scene. Can't wait to see what it looks like in the day!

Day 12: The Day that I Shocked a 3 Michelin Star Chef in San Sebastian

2009-04-20T12:02:00.001-07:00

We woke up in our cool hotel this morning in San Sebastian to a bright and sunny day... we keep lucking out with this weather. The forecast always says rain, but it holds off long enough for us to enjoy the day.

Here's a picture of the lobby of our hotel, the Astoria 7 in San Sebastian. It used to be an old movie theater, and they've kept the cinema theme and decked the place out with glamorous posters of famous movie stars...

We caught a city bus up to old town and roamed through the mercado, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the city's chefs picking up ingredients for the day, but alas, I think we were too late. We did see these unusual specimens, though...

After roaming through the Parte Vieja for a bit, we headed out to the Concha de la Playa and the beautiful beachfront promenade, with it's boardwalk atmosphere. This stretch of sand is considered to be one of the nicest beaches in all of Europe.

And then, finally, it was time for lunch. Before we embarked on this trip, we had read that this particular area of Basque country had more Michelin-starred restaurants than anywhere else in the world. Food bloggers site their favorites, but there are so many to choose from! We settled on Arzak, a restaurant with 3 stars to it's name and over a hundred years of tradition within the same family. The restaurant had been made world famous by the previous chef, and now the kitchen is run by his daughter, who is fairly young- the same age as Jack!

I'd been looking forward to this meal for weeks, having made the reservation a month in advance, reading the reviews, and even seeing it featured on various travel shows like "No Reservations" and "Spain, On the Road Again." And then... something really sad happened. I woke up in the morning with an upset stomach and a complete loss of appetite. Just the thought of food made me feel nauseous. It was as if I'd woken up on marathon day with a bum knee. I must have overdone it at Extebarri the day before (which is still totally worth it, by the way), but was sorely disappointed that I wouldn't be able to give Arzak the full and complete attention that I was sure it deserved. We went anyways, mostly so that I could take pictures of Jack eating. And boy did he eat. I gave it my best. I really did. But when the first course came out, the plate pristinely set with two, glistening, perfect oysters stuffed with some sort of a magical concoction full of color and flavor, I ate the first one, and for the life of me, could not stomach the second. I was so sad. Our server waited to see if I would touch it, and when she realized that I wouldn't, came over to make sure the dish was acceptable. She seemed shocked. I mean, whoever sends anything back to the kitchen at this place? Perhaps I was the first?

We quickly explained that I wasn't feeling well, and they suggested amending the menu to suit my appetite, assuring me that it would be no problem at all to halt the meal at any point. There was some whispering among the hostess, the server and the water girl, and then, the chef herself came out of the kitchen, walked over to our table and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes expressed genuine concern, and I explained to her that I had been looking forward to this meal for so long, that it was to be a high point in our trip, and unfortunately, I was feeling ill today. I seriously almost burst into tears. She was very compassionate, assured again that the meal could be amended however I wished, and even came back at the end of our lunch to check up on me and make sure that I was ok.

Well, Jack's lunch looked incredible, and I did try a bite here and there and was able to stomach another dish after the oyster, and all I can say is, I understand the hype. As good as the food was, I would give the restaurant it's 3 stars and it's ranking within the top ten of San Pellegrino's World's 50 best restaurants, just for the care and attention I received on this day. Even though I wasn't able to eat the food, at least the dining experience was a pleasant one.

For some reason, my unruly stomach was assuaged by dessert, and I was thrilled to see this beautiful plate of petit fours come out at the end of our meal.

With lunch digesting comfortably, we caught a 5:30 pm bus back to Bilbao where we would spend the night before flying back to Barcelona for the last stop of our trip. It's hard to believe that our time in Spain is drawing to a close... but I'm so looking forward to two whole days in Barcelona!!

Day 11: Off the Beaten, Basque Path

2009-04-18T09:45:00.001-07:00

A beautiful Basque morning in Bilbao lured me out early in the day for a long walk, as Jack took care of some work from our hotel room. I strolled down the long, pedestrian avenue which lead straight to the gleaming Guggenheim Museum, designed by Frank Gehry. The hulking, curving structure of steel and glass fit in with the modern cityscape of Bilbao, crowning the town with a unique edge which seems to push the envelope on this northern coast of Spain.

After we checked out of the hotel, we took one last walk around the old town and the lovely riverside.

The bright, pastel colors of old town were set off brilliantly against the black and white spots of this dalmation... notice how his eyes are also multi-colored!

One of the cool things about being married to a food blogger, is that we often find ourselves off the beaten path, whether we're at home or abroad, following our noses to some out of the way, unknown little establishment serving phenomenal food. Today was one such day. While doing his food research for our Spain trip, Jack had read about a unique asador in the countryside outside of Bilbao, which was revolutionizing the concept of the grill. Since we still had our rental car, we decided to give it a go, and followed a set of complicated directions gleaned from the internet, our maps, and the gps system, leading us deep into tiny little towns tucked in the emerald mountains of the Basque country.

We found our destination, a restaurant called Etxebarri, in the middle of a tiny town square, surrounded by small, chalet-style buildings.

The courtyard was exceedingly charming, with lovely, stone buildings surrounded by mountains, mist and sheep grazing on the neighboring hillsides. The quaint setting reminded me so much of Switzerland.

For a restaurant of such renown, we were surprised to find ourselves in pretty much an empty dining room, while the bar raged with laughter and beer downstairs.

Since Jack's the expert, I'll leave the food commentary and most of the photos for him to cover on his blog, but here are just a few samples of some of the things we delighted upon on this particular afternoon...

Caviar, lightly smoked on the grill, served warm, which punctuated the deep, rich flavor of the eggs, hinted by a light smokiness...

Baby octopus, perfectly tender, with a nice, crispy caramelization on the skin, again with a slight hint of smokiness...

We were floored by the entire meal. It really was the kind of food that changes your perspective on... life. We both put the lunch in our top 5 eating experiences ever. Since it seemed to be a slow day, we asked our server if we could meet the chef.

Victor Arguinz came out and greeted us warmly, listened kindly as we blubbered about how delicious his food was, posed jovially with us for pictures, and then treated us to an after dinner herbal liquor. Love that Spanish hospitality!

Somehow, we rolled ourselves out of the hillside, and made it into San Sebastian by 6pm, returned our rental car, checked into our hotel, and then passed out for a few hours. We woke up at around 10 pm, and, feeling the need to get in a bit of exercise, we headed out and took a midnight stroll through the quiet streets of this spectacular, beach side resort town.

Our evening ended peacefully, watching the light rippling off of the gentle waves in the river.

Day 10: Cruising East Along the Northern Coast of Spain

2009-04-15T11:56:00.000-07:00

Early this morning, we headed to the Santiago de Compostela train station and rented a car for our long drive to Bilbao. After multiple calls from the states to confirm that the car would indeed be an automatic transmission and that a gps device would be included, we were glad to find everything just as we had asked for, and we headed out of the city easily with blue skies before us.

Driving through the Galician countryside made us feel, corny as it sounds, happy to be alive. Lush, rolling hills dotted with fluffy sheep, idyllic, stone houses with laundry hanging in the sun, and blue skies hung with poofy, white clouds, greeted our every turn. We slipped our flamenco cd (the one we bought on the street in Granada) into the stereo, and snapped along to the music. (Most of today's pictures were taken through the window of a moving car...)

We left Santiago de Compostela at 10am, and after about 4 hours of easy driving along the N-634 (with a 15 minute break for Fanta Limon at a lovely country inn) we found ourselves in the coastal town of Gijon. We picked a crowded cafe in a sunny square for lunch, and sat down to one of the strangest meals we've had yet on this trip. I won't go into detail, but let's just say my first course involved rice and marinara sauce, and Jack's involved mushrooms... many many mushrooms.

It took us (and our gps) a while to figure our way out of Gijon, which gave us our first glimpse of the Cantabrian sea.

Finally moving onwards at around 4:30 pm, we hopped on the A-8 expressway which moved us much more quickly along this beautiful drive. The topography began to change dramatically, and soon, we found ourselves driving through the foothills of some pretty awe-inspiring peaks. I think these are part of the Picos de Europa, a popular national park.

Soon, we noticed that the signs were starting to display a new language, and realized that it was Euskarian, an ancient language dating back to Neolithic times, spoken by the Basque people. It is actually the oldest spoken language in Europe. The mountains also gave way to coastline, which would eventually lead us to the Bay of Biscay.

We finally made it into Bilbao at 7pm in the evening, found our hip hotel without any problem. Just a quick note about our little car... we rented a Citroen C4 which runs on diesel gas- totally awesome! More torque to the engine than a normal transmission, yet, incredibly gas efficient- we drove about 570 kilometers on half a tank of gas!

After resting for a bit, we took the incredibly easy to use and very modern metro to Casca Viejo, old town. As it turns out, very few pintxos (like tapas, but smaller, more like "bites") bars are open late on Tuesdays, so we limited ourselves to two, and nibbled a few pintxos at each. Jack tried the txakoli, which is a light white wine, special to the region, while I opted for the most delicious bottled water I can remember tasting... the Solan de Cabras. It's like drinking liquid crystal.

The dinner was light, but neither one of us was terribly hungry... besides, we had to save our appetites for a big eating kind of day in the Basque country side tomorrow...

Day 9: Hanging with James... St. James, that is.

2009-04-15T11:11:00.000-07:00

We woke up bright and early this morning to catch our 9:30 am RyanAir flight from Madrid to Santiago de Compostela, which literally translates to "St. James of the stars." This city is the ultimate destination of a long and arduous walking pilgrimage across northern Spain, beginning at the French border. The story goes that 1200 years ago, a monk followed a constellation of stars to a small village in the Galician countryside and discovered what seemed to be the relics and final resting place of James. As in, the James. The Apostle. The guy that wrote the Book of James in the Bible. A church was built on the site of the tomb, and since then, it has been added upon over the centuries so that today, it stands before you in the main square as a massive, romansque structure, looming ominously against the thickly clouded sky.

As soon as we set foot in town after dropping off our luggage at our small inn, it began to pour sheets... so it is like Seattle! No better time to tour a cathedral than when it's storming outside, so we ran through puddles along the stone-lined streets, through moss covered porticos, and ducked into the church doorway right at noon, just in time for the special, daily mass held for pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago.

Although it was not the gleaming, gold glory of the cathedral in Toledo, nor the grand sprawl of the cathedral in Seville, the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela definitely holds the most mystique. All around us, weary pilgrims in their hiking shoes and rain ponchos knelt in silent prayer, sobbed as they were overcome with emotion, or just sat in awe of being in such a holy place.

The mass lasted roughly an hour, and at the end of it, we noticed the priests untying the ropes which held back the mighty, silver incense burner.

Could it be? We'd read that the botafumeiro is only swung 25 times a year, and oh... there it goes! How did we get so lucky? This thing weighs about 120 pounds, and with the incense burning inside of it, it swings in a wide arc through the cathedral, over the heads of the congregants, filling the place with smoke. Ricardo Stevez wrote that this interesting custom began as a way to "counteract the stench of the pilgrims," and in the past, "priests were said to add a pinch of cannibis," to enhance the party like atmosphere of pilgrims having completed their quest.

After the mass ended, we walked around the perimeter of the cathedral and found the tomb of St. James, which holds his remains in a delicate, silver chest.

Back outside, we started to meander the small streets of this enchanting town, which really, in all honestly, is a bit the way I imagine Hogsmeade (from Harry Potter) to be... narrow stone pathways, moss-covered walls, quaint shops and cafes tucked into every nook and cranny. The air was permeated by a pleasant dampness, and the Galic-sounding tunes of a recorder player floated from one corner, while bagpipes droned from another.

We found a tiny little bakery featuring the tarta de Santiago. Realizing that we hadn't eaten all day, (save for a couple of sad, little airport muffins,) we bought a slice of the torta to devour in the doorway. The light, buttery, cake made with almonds gave us a small burst of energy, enabling us to carry on with our explorations.

Lo and behold, the sun came out! We rounded the corner and found a sunny spot in the Praza do Obradoiro, facing the main entrance to the cathedral.

Scattered all across the square were pilgrims arriving from their walk, exhausted, many of them actually finding a dry patch of ground to lie down and catch a nap, or just gaze at the cathedral. We found the stone with the engraved sea shell in the middle of the square, declaring that you have reached your goal! Well, we hadn't but the actual pilgrims had...

By this point, we were both exhausted, cold, wet and still slightly sick, so we headed back to our tiny room at the inn, and pretty much slept till morning. Oh, but first, a stop at a cute, little chocolate shop first... must end the day on a sweet note!

Day 8: Adios Andalucia!

2009-04-15T11:00:00.000-07:00

On Easter Sunday, we awoke in our comfortable, modern, no-frills hotel room to a pealing of the church bells in Seville. Christ has risen! Despite all of the Semana Santa experiences we've had, hearing the bells ring was the clearest reminder to me of my salvation and redemption... at once joyous, profound, and eternal. I imagined another believer, perhaps hundreds of years ago, sitting in the church square where I sat that morning, listening to those same bells, and feeling the same gladness.

For breakfast, we walked down to the riverfront and ordered ourselves a plate of churros y chocolate. The chocolate was thick and decadent, and the churros were light and crispy, sort of like the Chinese you-tiao. Funny how every culture seems to have it's own version of fried dough.

It was beautiful sunny day, so we took a leisurely walk along the riverfront, basking in the warm glow upon our vitamin D-deficient, Seattle-ite skin. We paused to watch some men fishing down by the water, and were surprised to see one guy struggling with his line. His buddy came over with a net, and after a bit of splashing, pulled a huge, yellow-scaled fish out of the water. After weighing it and measuring the length, they threw it back into the river.

By noon, it was time for us to make our way to the train station, to catch our fast, AVE train from Seville to Madrid. The Estacion Santa Justa is sparkling and modern, not to mention highly efficient.

Though the train ride was smooth and comfortable, I was unfortunately feeling slightly feverish by the end of it. Luckily, there's no better place to sleep off a fever than a city that you've already visited! We checked into our small pension, both popped a tylenol, and slept off our colds for 3 and a half hours! (Jack had a runny nose.) We felt worlds better when we awoke, and funny thing too... it was time for dinner! For our tapas crawl tonight, we headed to the La Lateina area of Madrid, where one long, narrow street brimmed over with trendy tapas bars. We found three that served up some innovative fare, and I found my new, favorite, Spanish wine- the Rueda, made from verdejo grapes. Yum!

We headed back to the hotel a bit before midnight, in the middle of the city, in the middle of the country, in the middle of our trip. Tomorrow morning, we'll be traveling up to Santiago de Compostela and the Galicia region, in the northwest of Spain. Supposedly, it's green, lush, and rainy there... like Seattle!

Day 7: Sevilla, the City with Soul

2009-04-13T06:32:00.000-07:00

Ahhh... Sevilla... there is something really special about this city, something that would make Jack declare it his favorite place so far on this trip... is it the orange trees everywhere, gracing the air with their delicate fragrance? Perhaps the romantic, cobblestone Jewish quarters with cafes and bars tucked into every turn? Maybe the genteel facades of the colorful buildings lining the main avenues? The sunshine gleaming along the beautiful riverfront promenade? Whatever it is, there's something about this city that makes you want to linger, breathe it all in, and walk a little slower.

We left Granada on an 8am bus to Sevilla this morning after a fitful night of sleep... I think I slept a total of 2 hours! The cappucino I had at 6 pm yesterday must have been pretty strong.

Luckily, I slept pretty much the entire bus ride, about 2 hours and 45 minutes, and was ready to go when we arrived in the city. First stop, the cathedral!!

Oops, wrong picture! That's Zara, one of my favorite stores, and it's absence is definitely missed since I've been in Seattle. At four stories high, this Zara was sort of cathedral-like...

But really, here we go. As we neared the cathedral, we saw that the surrounding area was set up for the Easter processional that would be happening later in the evening. Jack read somewhere that each one of these seats in the corded off section cost upwards of 70 euros each!

The cathedral in Seville is the largest in Spain, and the third largest in all of Europe, after St. Peter's in the Vatican, and St. Paul's in London. It was truly impressive. Built on the site of an old Moorish mosque, some of the structure still had signature Moorish details, like the keyhole-shaped doorways, and the irrigation streams in the courtyard. Inside, the high altar gleamed with gold frescoes, and the marble columns arched gracefully over the domed roof.

We climbed the ramps up to the bell tower, and caught some amazing views of the beautiful city.

For lunch we decided to try out a tapas bar that Jack had read about, and were rewarded by a small bit of counterspace right in the doorway, as we nibbled elbow to elbow with well-dressed locals, coming from church.

After lunch, we returned to our hotel so that I could take a 3 hour siesta, before heading out again at 7pm. We strolled across the bridge to the other side of the river, then crossed back again to make our way up to the cathedral.

We were just in time to catch a glimpse of the the Christ-figure platform marching slowly up the steps of the church, as a whole marching band played a mournful processional. From a distance, the high pitched bugles actually sound like human wailing. Behind the processional, women dressed in black mantillas followed somberly, mourning for the Christ, as the scent of candles and incense permeated the air.

We left the scene and turned torwards the cobble stone streets of Barro Santa Cruz, the old Jewish quarter, and though, still full from lunch, we found a quiet little cafe on a remote corner, where we nibbled a few small plates of tapas, as I sucked down yet another Fanta Limon, and Jack had his usual draft cerveza.

At 10:30pm, we headed over to the Casa de la Memoria de Al-Andalus ("House of the Memory of Al-Andalus"), where we had tickets (14 euros) to see the flamenco show. We walked into a lovely courtyard and found some seats along the edge of the square, which had a wooden platform right in the middle.

While planning this trip, one of my most highly anticipated experiences was to see some real flamenco in Sevilla, which is known as the city of soul. What a treat! At 10:30 on the dot, two men strode onto the stage, one a singer, and the other the guitarist, and for the first act, they performed a ballad, which seemed to set the mood for the dancer. At the opening of the next song, a beautiful, petite woman strode danced her way onto the wooden platform, dressed in a narrow, black and purple flamenco dress, edged in pink lace, which flared out below her knees. Her red, patent leather flamenco shoes had thick heels which added pronounced percussion to the clapping and singing of the singer, and the thumping and strumming of the guitarist. We were treated to an hour of incredible artistry, as she twisted and clomped, graceful yet passionate. Her face at times twisted into a fierce and concentrated frown, and other times, the corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, smiling seductively through her thick lashes. I don't think I've ever seen anyone move their feet so fast, especially when she did the quick, stacatto stomping, which seemed almost like a camera trick- you couldn't even really see her feet anymore, they were moving so fast. Other times, during the slower parts, her movements were incredibly graceful, the turning of her wrists and the movement of her hips almost a bit like Hawaiian hula. But always, it was picked back up with a quick clap, into a frenzied, ecstatic state, with all three performers playing off of each other in a complex interchange of duple and triple meter, the two against three rhythms sometimes leaving the listeners to hold their breath, fearing that, oh my goodness... will they end on this cadence together? but they always do.

For the second half of the show, the dancer came back out wearing a white toriodor outfit, complete with a short bolero jacket, and still, the red, patent leather shoes.

Totally worth it. We left the show in awe, singing and clapping our way through the streets. I tried to do a few, quick flamenco steps, and Jack just laughed and shook his head. He says that if I learn flamenco dance, he'll learn flamenco guitar, and then we can put on shows together! Ha! We'll charge... 1 euro.

Day 6: Good Friday in Granada

2009-04-10T16:20:00.001-07:00

With a full day in Granada, we decided that we had the luxury of going to sleep last night without setting our alarm clock. All of this traveling must be catching up to us because we ended up sleeping until 11:30 am! Pretty much a full 10 hours! As it turned out, we would need all the energy we could get for this day...

The weather was gray, and a little bit sprinkly, but even so, it didn't detract from the brilliant colors we would find in the city scape of this ancient, university town. The main attraction here is the mighty Alhambra, a magnificent Moorish palace, and the last Muslim stronghold in Europe, until their retreat to the Christians in 1492. Our guide book written by local Seattle favorite Rick Steves, (or Ricardo Stevez, as we've come to call him on this trip) had warned us to buy our tickets online as early as possible as they tend to sell out fast during the Semana Santa, which it happened to be. Luckily, we scored an afternoon visit, with a 7pm admission to the main palace.

This left us the morning (I suppose it was actually early afternoon by the time we woke up and left the hotel room) to explore the cathedral and the Albayzin neighborhood, the old Moorish Quarters above town.

As we meandered around the narrow maze of pedestrian streets surrounding the cathedral, we wandered our way through the bazaars displaying all sorts of colorful textiles, baskets, jewelry and other craftwork.

We finally found our way to the main entrance of the cathedral, and were only allowed to view it from the narthex, since the main hall was closed in preparation for Good Friday. No worries, we didn't really have time to walk through it leisurely anyways, but I was quite taken by the proud, gleaming, marble columns. I happened to snap a shot of the priest in his robes, rushing across the marble, checkered floors.

Back outside, we caught a quick, impromptu show by these flamenco guitar players totally jamming, and having a grand old time. They were so good, we picked up one of their cds, which I'm sure will bring back wonderful memories of our granadian adventures.

We hiked up the hill through the whitewashed Albayzin neighborhood to St. Nicholas plaza, which had this incredible view of the Alhambra in the distance.

We were both getting a little bit wind-whipped and chilled, not to mention starved, so we stopped into a small bar on a quiet plaza that was referenced in our guide book as the place to go for boatloads of fried fish! Yum! Fried octopus could really be the next big thing...

Finally, we made the lush, 20 minute hike up a beautiful, landscaped pathway to the Alhambra. Upon admission, we saw that indeed, tickets had been sold out for the day, and I said a silent "thank you" to Ricardo Stevez... how disappointed would I have been to miss out on all this???

Words and pictures don't really do the Alhambra justice and it's easy to see why this place has captivated artists, writers and composers for centuries... it is such an experience to wander through the airy, open rooms, with the arched, stone windows intricately carved with the achingly beautiful detail of Islamic art and pattern. Every window had a view of the surrounding country side, the lush courtyards, or the gleaming Albayzin, and I was stunned by the domed ceilings, the complicated array of fountains blooming in the courtyards, the abundance and fragrance of the fruit trees and flowers, and the colors of the tiled walls and the domed ceilings. The first time I ever really examined Islamic art was at the Museum of Islamic Art in KL, when we were on our trip to Malaysia a few years ago. Instead of pictures depicting scenes from the Bible as in Christian, religious paintings, Islamic art is based on patterns, the amount of detail and interweaving intricacy is a testament to one's devotion to God. All I can say is, these Moors were very, very devoted.

We were lucky to catch a totally packed minibus back to the city center, which happened to drop us off right along the pathway for the Good Friday procession. What a contrast, to come from soaking in the details of one of the greatest pieces of Muslim architecture, to witnessing this passionately intense, centuries old Catholic tradition, of parading the crucified Christ through the streets to the cathedral. It's definitely a little bit jarring to my Presbyterian, minority, American eyes to see these figures in the parade with the cone shaped hoods, carrying symbols of the cross. I later came to learn that the colors of the hoods represent the different brotherhoods of a particular city.

There were many children in the procession as well, many of them given the job of keeping the candles lit on the blustery night.

After seeing first the Christ-figure, and then the Virgin Mary carried by on elaborate platforms laden with gold and flowers, we decided to beat the crowds, and snagged a table by a window of a local tapas bar, kitty-corner to the cathedral, where we were able to watch the rest of the processional while enjoying a delicious dinner of "modern" tapas.

What an amazing day!

Day 5: Museums in Madrid

2009-04-10T16:00:00.001-07:00

We woke up to a sunny, spring day in Madrid, and headed out bright and early to get in some time at the city's world-famous museums.

The walk down Paseo del Prado is lively and colorful... this little skeleton puppet was playing Lalo's Symphony Espanol, with perfect bowing and string changes.

Unfortunately, we weren't able to take pictures inside the Prado, but a good two and a half hours there gave us a chance to absorb the talents of some of Spain's great artists, such as Velazquez, Goya, and El Greco, just to name a few.

Walking down Museum Row, we spotted the Caixa Forum building, a stunning modern structure with a huge floating piece, which caused K, the architect, to stop in her tracks and exclaim, "Wow! Look at the cantalever on that thing!" I loved the living wall along the side.

After lunch, we headed to the Reina Sofia Museum, a modern glass structure housing the city's modern art. I was most interested in viewing "La Guernica," Picasso's reaction to the bombing of the Spanish town Guernica by German bomber planes, testing out new technology, and approved by Franco before the second World War. The destruction at the time was unheard of, and the painting is filled with grotesque yet poignant scenes of death and sorrow, all done in Picasso's signature cubist style.

By 4 in the afternoon, it was time for us to say "adios amigos" to our dear traveling companions of the past 4 days, as they would be heading back to Paris, and we were moving on to Granada, in the south of Spain. We climbed on board a comfortable bus, and relaxed for 5 full hours.

We pulled into Granada at 10:30 pm, starved, and after checking into the hotel, immediately stepped out in search of food. Granada is a fascinating city dominated by moorish influences, and kebab stands abound, so....

lamb kabob bocadillos nourished our weary bodies before we turned in for the evening.

Day 4: Holy Toledo!!

2009-04-10T15:02:00.000-07:00

This morning, we caught a thrilling, 5 am cab ride to the airport, driven by a cabbie that gunned the car up to 185 kph, sang us a Portugese love song, and chatted animatedly in Portugese about soccer (we think).

Here, Jack and Kelly wait sleepily for our 6:35 am flight to Madrid.

Despite how tired we were, we arrived in Madrid without problem, dropped off our luggage at our hotel, and managed to get ourselves to the train station to catch a fast train to Toledo, about 3o minutes outside of Madrid.

Toledo boasts a humongous and intricately designed cathedral, filled with gold, renowned art work, and Gothic, Baroque and Neo-classical architecture. The city is also famous for beautiful, artisinal ceramics, and marzapan candy.

Supposedly, the iron forgers in Toledo are so skilled that bull fighters from all over Spain will order their swords only from craftsman in this town. The detailed iron work can be seen all over Toledo.

Despite the confusing map and the winding, cobblestone paths, we managed to find the Museum Santa Cruz, a free museum in town that had an extensive El Greco exhibit, offering paintings of different saints and apostles cast in brilliant colors and a distinctive brush stroke.

Red rooftops of the Jewish quarter...

An old fortress wall...

...and the royal alcazar high on the hill.

We made it back to Madrid at 7pm, and gave our weary bodies a well-deserved, two hour siesta, before we set out again for our highly anticipated, Madrid tapas crawl! We hit the Puerto del Sol area, and made our rounds through 5 different tapas bars.

Each bar had a different character and tapas specialty, but in the end, our most treasured memory of this night was spending the time with good friends. How often do you get to spend good quality time with loved ones halfway across the world?

Day 3: Quinta Port Houses in the Duoro Valley

2009-04-09T15:29:00.000-07:00

Today, we woke up to brilliant sun shining through our window... perfect for a day of driving through the lush vineyards of the Duoro Valley. We rented a Toyota Yaris from the car rental place across the street from our hotel, and Shane being the only one of us with enough video gaming experience to navigate the harrowing streets of Porto (as well as the only one of us who could officially claim to drive a stick shift), expertly drove us out into the country side, where the sun shine gave way first to rain, and then to a dense, thick fog.

A lovely scene of the Duoro river and a port quinta, the winery house.

After some unintended detours through winding, narrow, hillside roads, we finally found our first stop, the quinta that makes Fonseca, one of the most popular ports exported to the United States.

A free, self-guided audio tour gave us the chance to roam and take in the scenes of the beautiful, terraced vineyards, blooming with baby grapes.

The long (2 hour plus) drive and a few glasses of port before noon whet our appetites for a big lunch, and we found ourselves at the modern, river front restaurant, D.O.C.

We settled ourselves in for a 4 course meal, prepared by one of Portugal's finest chefs. My favorite course was the grilled octopus, which was unbelievably tender, with a nice crunchy char on the tentacles.

After what turned out to be a 2 and half hour lunch, we managed to roll ourselves out of the restaurant and only had time to visit one more quinta for just a few tastings of port, before it was time to return to Porto.

There were a few hairy moments getting back into the city, but Shane handled it with precision and quick reflexes, although he later confessed to us that he hadn't been that nervous in a long time. Could have fooled us!

After dropping off the car, we ventured out to a lookout point to watch the sunset over the Atlantic Ocean.

Jack set the self timer for this shot and then had to run on the edge of the stone wall to jump into this shot...

After snapping photo after photo of the swift moving colors shifting across the sky, I turned around and found this rustic stone wall covered with colorful graffiti. I love photographing graffiti when I travel because I find that it sheds a little bit of insight into the local culture in a vibrant and informative way.

Since we'd had such a huge lunch late in the afternoon, none of us were too hungry, so we grabbed some crackers, nuts and a wedge of cheese at a grocery store and picnicked on the lovely patio of our hotel, under an almost full moon.

Day 2: Scenes from my Portugese Dreams

2009-04-07T11:05:00.000-07:00

We woke up to our first full day in Porto with a yen for something sweet. S & K led us confidently to a lovely bakery that they had visited the day before, and we promptly satisfied our craving with a Portugese style croissant, macaroon, and almond tarte.

Fueled for the moment, we wandered the narrow cobblestone streets, filled with Old World charm, and decorated to the gills for Semana Santa, Holy Week.

Upon crossing the Duomo River, we entered Vila Nova de Gaia, where most of the port houses have set up tasting rooms. Most of the makers of this exquisite elixir keep their vineyards east of Porto in the Duomo Valley, then after harvest and sometimes bottling, load up the port barrels on boats that sail down the current to reach Vila Nova de Gaia.

Our first tasting of the day was at Kopke, established in 1638, and the oldest port house in town.

Below, I stare entranced as I'm served my first Ruby port, accompanied by small chocolates, a winning combination!

A Kopke Ruby port and a vintage 78, side by side.

After a luxurious and lingering visit, we walked up the cobblestone streets to reach Taylor, our next destination.

K & S wait at the oak barrel table for their first tasting.

After touring the facility and the lush grounds, we headed down the hill a few meters to Croft, where we sat down on the patio to enjoy our tastings and the welcoming sunshine. By this point, most of us had sugar coated tongues and could barely distinguish from one taste to the next.

So we decided that it was time for lunch. Jack got a huge, Porto-specific sandwich filled with meat, covered with melted cheese, gravy, and a fried egg! Looked too intense for my port-induced hazy mind to wrap around...

We also got a serving of tiny, local sea snails! Can you see the antennaes on these little suckers?

A river cruise down the Duomo beckoned after lunch, and we hopped on for a view of the 6 bridges, spanning the distance between Porto and Vila Nova de Gaia. A few of these were designed by Eiffel.

The Portoguese have no qualms about airing out their laundry in public...

Winding our way back through quaint residences to our hotel...

Local graffiti...

A shot of the Porto train station...

And then the gang checks out the glamorous McDonalds in the center of town, complete with chandeliers!

We rested for a few hours before heading out for a nightcap at Solar de Vinho, a old manor house turned port bar. A few small plates of pate, cheese and olives, and several glasses of port selected by our helpful server topped off the perfect end to a beautiful day.

Spain and Portugal, Day 1: Barcelona Barcelona...

2009-04-06T12:42:00.000-07:00

After months of planning, our big trip for the year is finally here! Yesterday, we closed up shop in Seattle at 4am, and headed out to Spain, with a connection at JFK. All went smoothly, and we made it into Barcelona at 7am, on Sunday, April 5. We had a whole day to explore the city before we had to catch a plane on Ryan Airlines from Girona airport (about 1 hour and 15 minutes outside of Barcelona) to Porto, Portugal, where we would be meeting up with our buddies from Seattle, S & K. Unfortunately, neither one of us slept very much on our plane ride, and due to time changes, it was akin to a couple of zombies landing in a foreign country. But alas, we did our best.

First, some fuel. After locking our luggage up in a locker at the train station, we popped out of the metro, and the first thing we saw was a pastisseria! I think it was a sign that it would be a good day.

The morning was calm and quiet, and the streets of Barcelona seemed to be barely waking up at 9am.

We wandered through old town and came upon the Church of Santa Maria del Mar.

We walked in briefly, and realized that it was Palm Sunday, when we saw the ladies selling palm leaves out front.

After some more wandering, we mused to ourselves how quiet the streets were still, when suddenly, we heard a u2 song blaring around the corner and a huge roar from a crowd. We headed in the direction of the commotion, and caught a glimpse of the runners heading out from the start line at the Barcelona marathon! Pretty cool, though I was by no means about to jump in and join them...

Due to our lack of sleep, we were both craving calories, so we grabbed a few pastries, a cafe con leche, and jumped in line for the Picasso Museum... first Sundays of the month are free! We weren't aloud to take pictures inside, but the lovely courtyard was very photogenic.

Down the street from the Picasso Museum was the Chocolate Museum! Did you know that Mayans were the first to cultivate the cacao bean, but Barcelona was the first port through which they passed and were introduced to the rest of Europe, and consequently the world? And also, the Swiss are the highest consumer of chocolate in the world... 10 kilos per person on average per year! That's over 20 pounds! Our tickets to the museum were chocolate bars with the word "tiquet," and indeed chocolate is everywhere in the city.

Seeing all that chocolate all over the place certainly whet our appetities, so we popped into a tapas bar that looked super croweded with post Palm Sunday church goers, and squeezed our way up to the bar. What a treat! Being our first tapas experience in Spain, we didn't quite know what to expect, but the family running the business was friendly and supportive of our broken Spanish, and the small plates they put before us carried all sorts of simply prepared but truly delicious treats, like jamon sec, and sardines soaked in olive oil.

We found it interesting that Spaniards are big on tin canning their seafood, but instead of tasting bland and metallic, the berberechos, mussels, and clams were fresh tasting with an almost silky texture.

By the afternoon, our lack of sleep had certainly caught up with us, and we found a beautiful courtyard behind the Frederic Mares Museum. Jack fell asleep in the sunshine while sitting on a bench, underneath the orange trees laden with fruit, as a cello and a guitar played the Aranguez Guitar Concerto by Rodrigo somewhere around the corner. I sat next to him and spaced out for about an hour before realizing that it was time to head to the train station, pick up our luggage and catch the bus to the airport in Girona.

We got to the bus station just as the next bus to the airport left at 4:10 pm, and the next one was at 5. With our flight to Porto at 7pm, and the bus ride to be about an hour and 20 minutes, we were sweating bullets a bit about the timing. Jack bought me an ice cream to soothe the stress, and as I sat there eating it and staring at the tv screen broadcasting departures and arrivals, I saw that another bus had been added, leaving for Girona airport at 4:45! We grabbed our bags and ran outside just in time to throw them into the bus belly, and find seats together on an already crowded bus.

We made it to the airport at 6pm, checked our bags onto our flight, and even were able to sleep about 2 hours en route to Porto.

After one heck of a long day, we finally made it to our hotel, cleaned ourselves up, and met up in the lobby with... K & S! Yay! Together at last!

We went out to a traditional, Portugese restaurant down the street from our hotel and ate a late but filling dinner featuring Arroz y pulpa, octopus rice. Yum!

Returning to the hotel, I fell into bed and finally felt my body relax into the deep sleep that I'd been craving. I need my rest... tomorrow is going to be a big day of tasting ports!!!!

Vancouver!

2008-07-01T22:50:00.000-07:00

AILA Conference 2008
June 25 - 29, 2008

Wanna spend a weekend with thousands of lawyers discussing PERM and E-Verify and filing deadlines and other business immigration issues? Hmm... not so much. Rephrase the question please. Wanna spend 4 nights in a classy hotel in Vancouver paid for by the company, explore a vibrant cosmopolitan city in another country, try out exciting new restaurants, and visit with old friends and family? Well, when you put it that way... I'm there!

Jack and I drove our trusty Prius up to Vancouver on Wednesday afternoon, June 25, making it into town just in time to check into our hotel, chill out a little and then meet up with a bunch of old and new friends at Kingyo, the hip new izakaya in the West End. Here is a bunch of the immigration lawyers we met up with that first night...

While Jack spent the next day learning about new immirgration procedures and legislation in conference sessions held at the Canada Center, I roamed the downtown streets of this sophisticated and diverse city. Vancouver has quickly become one of our favorite reasons for living in the Pacific Northwest- the Canadian border is not only the boundary demarcating our country from the next, it also marks the gateway to a plethora of incredible food options, including the best dim sum we've ever had, rich and chewy ramen noodles, super juicy xiao long baos (soup dumplings) and fresh and decadent sushi and seafood. This close proximity to fabulous Asian food is so important to us, especially because we haven't found anything comparable in Seattle. Yes, we really will drive 2 hours to eat dim sum.

This trip happened to coincide with my parents' planned vacation to the Rocky Mountains, Richmond, B.C. being the jumping point for their Chinese tour. We planned to spend a day together in Vancouver before they left for their week long trip. Here, we share a hearty and satisfying meal at Shanghai Wonderful, home of one of the most delicious hot pots we've ever had. Check out that empty bowl... we ate it all!

We spent the next day exploring the artisan shops and produce stands on Granville Island, before heading back to Vancouver to check out the Chinatown Night Market, although at 7pm, the sun was still shining high! Love those northern summers! Rows of hawker stands set up over a few blocks on Main street in Chinatown simulated the raucous, steaming night markets in Asia, although Canadians aren't quite as rough and tumble in these settings.

The next day, I spent the morning strolling through Stanley park, admiring the blue-green, glass buildings along the sea wall, and the stunning, lush greenery in the park. How can you not help but love this city??

For lunch, I met up with Jack and his old bosses T & S who flew up from SF and LA respectively, and after a boatload of sushi and a spoonful of coffee jello (it was actually better than it sounds) bid the guys farewell and wandered over to Yaletown, an old wharehouse district that has been reconfigured to hold several long streets of trendy bars, restaurants and boutiques. Expensive, yuppified and a little contrived, but I totally love it! It has a nice urban vibe and the energy of a big city. I also happened upon a public performance of the Jazz Fest in a nearby park.

On our last evening, we met up with Jenny at Shambar, a super hip Belgian-influenced restaurant in Gastown and shared a unique, refreshingly creative, gluten-free meal enjoyed by all parties. But of course, no trip to Vancouver is complete without a dim sum run... we hit up Sun Sui Wah, our favorite place for Chinese small eats in Richmond, before heading home the next morning. The wait at the border delayed us by at least an hour and a half, but it was worth it!!

May 10-17, 2008: Chateau D'Oigny

2008-05-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

His brown eyes glimmered with excitement, and a giddy smile reflected his extraordinary proposition. We sat motionless, soaking it all in. The last time we saw Vijay like this, Jack and I found ourselves flying out to Chicago for a day to partake in a devastatingly spectacular, 4 1/2 hour, 24-course meal that utterly redefined all of our conceptual understandings of food construction, molecular gastronomy and palate imagination.
(See Alinea meal Prologue, Part 1, Part 2)

Vijay is one of Jack's buddies from the law school days. Aside from both being moot court champions back in the day, they became fast friends once they realized their common love of food and wine. Vijay is the kind of person who can make those "once in a lifetime" experiences not only possible, but down-right easy. Things that we've only ever entertained in theory become actuality. The guy definitely knows how to enjoy life. Plus, he wears the SOFTEST sweaters. So what was it this time, another amazing meal? A chance to indulge in some new luxury? A dream vacation? Well, yes, yes and yes.

The Story...

About a year ago, Vijay found himself at a Red Cross Auction with some friends and family, and together as a group, they decided to bid on the big prize- a week-long stay at Chateau d'Oigny, a 16th century castle in the valley of the Retz Forest, about an hour outside of Paris and near the heart of the Champagne region. Upon winning the bid, each winning partner was responsible for finding 4 more people to join the group not only to split the cost, but also to enjoy a week of extraordinary food, wine, and amazing company in a fairy-tale setting.

When Jack and I were home for the holidays last year, we decided to drop by Vijay's family's big holiday party, just to say hi. Upon walking through the front door, we were immediately greeted warmly by his entire extended family and we each had a glass of champagne in our hand within the first minute of standing in the foyer. We felt like invited guests; not party-crashers! Several hours later, we were chatting with Vijay on the patio when he invited us to join him in France. Although we had already booked our big trip for the year to Chile, it only took a few moments for us to make up our minds and hop on board.

Well, life happens, or more specifically, work happens, and since we returned from Chile a mere 2 weeks before we were supposed to leave for France, Jack found himself unable to detangle himself from a mountain-load of work that had landed on his shoulders, and had to cancel his trip. Fortunately, my sister, the fabulous Connie Sheu Chun, was able to join me at what we would later refer to as "our chateau."

And so it was, that's how Connie and I found ourselves living it up in a castle for a week with Vijay's family and friends. On Sunday, May 11, Connie and I met up at the Charles de Gaul airport in Paris, and headed out by train to Villers-Cotteret, a charming village with the nearest train station to the chateau. Connie broke her 40 day meat fast on the train with a salami sandwich!

The following posts show pictures and details of our 6 days at Chateau d'Oigny, beginning with the most recent day. To see all of my pictures from this trip, click here to go to Flickr. Enjoy!

Chateau d'Oigny: Day 6

2008-05-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

Today's itinerary started us off at the Place de la Madeleine, La Madeleine being a church designed to look like a greek temple. Beautiful on the outside, but pretty dark and creepy on the inside, with austere stone statues lurking in every corner.

The plaza surrounding La Madeleine brimmed over with specialty food shops, flower stands, and farmer's markets. Here were some of the lovely sights:

Vibrant roses stacked horizantally at a flower stand.

Check out the delicate zebra patterns on these rainbow trout! The fishmonger tried to charge me 1 euro for taking a picture, but I just flashed a cute smile and walked away.

Yup, it's what you think it is... a basket of large black truffles at the Maison du Truffe. Each one of these guys is worth it's weight in gold. It smelled so heavenly in this store.

A fancy grocer sold all sorts of tropical and exotic foods, like these mangosteens from Thailand, which made Connie and I start salivating almost instantaneously.

For lunch, we headed to the Rue Montorgueil, and ended up a cool bistro. We knew we had picked a good place when we walked in and saw this great painting on the wall...

My order of steak frites, in honor of Jack.

We stumbled upon a bakery that boasted that it's eclairs are the third best in all of Paris! Well, third best! I had to try one. Awfully skinny, but crisp, pillowy and decadent.

We strolled through the Jardin des Tuilleries on our way to the Museum de l'Orangerie

Monet's "Waterlilies" hang from the curved walls of L'Orangerie, the museum to which he donated the paintings to in the 1920's.

We also came across this Renoir. A copy of this painting hangs in my parents' house in San Jose.

Rodin's "Kiss" graces the terrace outside of the l'Orangerie.

Following the Rose Line (of The Da Vinci Code fame) at the L'Eglise de St. Sulpice.

Connie and I picked up this cake for the gang from the Grand Epicerie de Paris. Apricot custard with almond and pistachio filling and crust. Delicious!
It was our farewell ode to a fabulous week in France.

Chateau d'Oigny: Day 5

2008-05-15T23:14:00.000-07:00

For Connie and I, today was devoted to rest and relaxation. Our full day in Paris required some serious recovery, so we slept in, and spent the day reading, napping and taking a walk. Since everyone else had left in the morning on day trips, we pretty much had the run of the castle.

A dewy iris on the castle grounds.

A shuttered window on a neighboring cottage.

A fluffy purple plant in the fields behind Oigny.

The Retz Forest.

Connie meanders along a cobblestone path.

Our tranquil walk through the small villages neighboring the chateau allowed us to savor the beauty of the French countryside slowly... why is countryside in France so much prettier than countrysides in other places?

For dinner, we enjoyed some revamped leftovers and a tasty mac and cheese casserole made by Serena and Nalini. Frederic brought her cute family over to join us in this meal, and we were honored to meet her husband Cristophe, her 12 year old son Josef, and 6 year old Lila, whom I enjoyed creating plate people with after dinner.

Chateau d'Oigny: Day 4

2008-05-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

Following a Lucky magazine guide to Parisian boutiques, Connie and I trekked all over the city looking for specific shops, only to discover that many of them no longer existed! Oh well, it's a good way to see the city.

Our first cafe creme, on Rue de Cler.

Our first crepes- jambon et beurre... yum!

A fancy face at the Jardin de Luxembourg

A classic favorite- Berthillon ice cream on the Isle de St. Louis. The salted caramel and honey nougat was absolutely luxurious!

Fountains at Hotel de Ville.

Nalini's scrumptious Coq au Vin with egg noodles.

Vishnu blows out his birthday candles... what a legendary way to celebrate an 18th birthday!

Vijay and his sweet family.

The gang was feeling festive this evening, partly in celebration of Vishnu's birthday, partly due to all of the champagne we consumed before dinner... to keep the party going, we headed down to the DUNGEON. Right? What better place to party it up? The music from Vishnu's ipod reverberated against the stone walls, the wine continued to flow, and Tim even got up to show us a little boogie. We said thank you to the spirits of the dungeon, and headed back upstairs a little bit after midnight. On the patio, Vijay pulled out some cigars he had bought a few days ago. Cuban, he said. Oh really? Although I'm not normally a cigar smoker, Connie and I decided to split one, just to try it and to say that I smoked a Cuban in France. You know, it was actually pretty good! Very smooth with a nice finish. Just like my day.

Chateau d'Oigny: Day 3

2008-05-13T21:08:00.000-07:00

A beautiful day begins with a beautiful frittata... when I saw Serena's fabulous pie come out of the oven, I knew it was going to be a good morning.

Some savory herbs from the chateau's herb garden.

Today, we drove into Reims (pronounced "rance", rhymes with France), to begin our tour of the Champagne region. We kicked off the day with a visit to the Reims Cathedral, a beautiful piece of gothic architecture and the site of coronation for 26 French kings and queens.

One of the stained glass windows was designed by Marc Chagall...

Connie and Vijay admire the cathedral.

Vijay and I hit the town.

Deepa and Maureen enjoy some champagne in Champagne.

Although most of the major champagne houses were closed this week because everyone was at a champagne competition in London, we were able to take a tour of the legendary Moet & Chandon, where Dom Perignon reputedly discovered how to make this bubbly elixir by accident. Maureen says that story is just a marketing gimmick.

Moet & Chandon's ancient wine caves, dug out by the Romans!

Moet's beautiful vineyards.

Baby grapes.

We made it back to the chateau in time to enjoy a delicious dinner of cured duck salad, and veal with a roux gravy, made by Frederic, our cheerful chateau caretaker.

Chateau d'Oigny: Day 1

2008-05-12T09:01:00.000-07:00

Upon arriving at the train station in Villers-Cotteret, we are promptly picked up by Vijay and Maureen and whisked off to the chateau, where we spend the rest of the evening relaxing and getting to know our castle-mates for the next week. This was our first view of the castle...

And some of the chateau residents...

Bronsky the happy dog

Pierre the Peacock

To select rooms at the castle, we drew from a lottery. Connie and I picked the last number, which was fine, there really wasn't a loser room in the entire place... although noone wanted to sleep alone up in the turret. We ended up choosing a room in what is billed as the children's house, across the courtyard from the main chateau. Children's House

What did we have for dinner on our first night in such glorious spendor? Chinese food! It was the only restaurant open on the Pentecost holiday.

Day 2

Today was another day spent enjoying the chateau, and getting to know each other. Total, there were 13 people in our group. We took a quick jaunt into town to buy some basic supplies (yes, the caseloads of wine were considered an essential!) and discovered Villers-Cotteret to be a quaint, quiet village with everything you could need-boulangeries, fromageries, charcuteries, epiceries, patisseries, and cafes on every corner surrounding the main square. It felt very "Beauty and the Beast"- ish... Disney version.

A statue of Alexander Dumas, who was born in the village.

The pork we picked up for dinner.

In the afternoon, Connie and I went for a bike ride in the country side, and reveled in the fresh air, beautiful fields and France! We somehow broke one of the bikes, but made it back to the chateau in one piece.

Connie and Kirin relaxing on the patio

Hanging out by the grill

Tim, slicing up the delicious grilled pork.

Vijay and Serena preparing dinner

Dinner this evening consisted of pork two ways- grilled and roasted, roasted potatoes, and a salad of butter lettuce and frisee with beet, celery root and carrot crudite.

A toast to our second night at Chateau d'Oigny.

We were lucky enough to have Maureen of Chai Consulting on our trip with us, and she gave us a great lesson this evening on how to identify and understand our wines. This lesson certainly came in handy for the rest of the trip, considering how much wine was consumed during our week long stay.

Our evening ended with Nutella and jam bruschettas, and chatting around the campfire in the courtyard.

So, any final thoughts on Chile?

2008-04-30T10:23:00.000-07:00

So glad you asked. Actually, yes.

1. Chile is a very safe country to travel in. I never once felt jeopardized or alarmed, and found the people in Chile more than willing to help out a foreigner who doesn't speak a lick of Spanish. Always travel smart, of course, and use common sense.

2. Chile has a little bit of everything. We hope to come back someday, because we never made it north of Santiago. Just didn't have time. But I would love to come back to visit San Pedro and the Atacama desert, and to see the moon from what is reputed to be the clearest sky in the world. I'm glad we were able to visit the massive glaciers in Patagonia, climb a stinky volcano in Pucon, and find ourselves surrounded by art and beauty at every turn.

3. The Chilean bus system is awesome. It is always on time, (if your bus is scheduled to leave at 9:30, you better be on the bus before the doors close at 9:28. 9:30 is when the bus pulls away from the curb!) the buses are clean and comfortable (just don't sit in the back near the restroom) and there is a bus scheduled to go pretty much anywhere in the country that you want to go. I'd say it's on par with the Swiss trains. But way cheaper!

4. I wish I had learned some Spanish before I went. Not that it was that difficult to get around, but I felt like I would have been able to attain a different level of intimacy with the culture of Chile if I could have understood the language and expressed myself a bit more fluently. But as it is, I did learn a little "Chilean." (Apparently, Spanish in Chile is quite different from Spanish Spanish.) Bueana Dia. (they drop the "s"). Gracia. Cuanto cuesta? (very important). Quisiera comprar..., Donde esta...

5. I did learn some things about myself as a traveler. When we first lost our luggage at the beginning of the trip, I was so bummed that I had to stop and ask myself why I was so bummed. When I did that, I couldn't think of a good reason. It wasn't like I "needed" anything in my luggage for immediate survival. Everything I really needed was in my backpack. When we made the decision to go on with our trip without our luggage, I suddenly felt quite free. There's nothing like walking into the Punta Arenas airport, where everyone else is decked out in Northface jackets and hiking boots, wearing just my flip flops, sweat shirt and yoga pants. I actually think that the experience gave me a new perspective on what I think I need when I travel and what I really need. It was nice to be able to walk into town completely unencumbered. When we finally did get our luggage delivered to us, it took a while to get used to carting it around!

6. I've always enjoyed traveling with Jack. Even though he doesn't think about the trip until he actually steps onto the plane (unlike me, where I have the details planned out for months in advance), he's adaptable and quick, and when I stop thinking about things, he takes over and makes the decisions that I haven't even thought about. I like it that when he senses that I'm becoming salty (that's what he calls me when I'm pissy), he knows exactly how much to chatter to keep the mood light, and when to be quiet and let me brood, and when to snap me out of it. I love how we can share the same enthusiasm about exploring new things and that we're changed by each trip we take together.

7. Every year, I think that maybe this year will be our last big trip for a while, that maybe this will be the trip to get out of my system so that I can just settle down and enjoy my blessed and comfortable life in Seattle. And yet, I can't. I have such a roamer's complex. I know that traveling is a luxury, and that these days, it's even poo poo'd in some circles as being un-environmental and selfish, unless you're doing a missions trip or building stuff along the way. As much as I admire missionaries and folks who go on volunteer-based trips, I still find that there is purpose in traveling for the sake of traveling. It's a way to broaden our own perspectives on what life is and expand our views of the human experience. It's a way to reach out to people in their own homes, to challenge ourselves outside of our comfort zones, and to stretch our imaginations and views about the vastness of the world that God created.

We ran into a bus load of school children in Valparaiso, who became really excited upon seeing us, and began yelling out "Konichiwa!! Konichiwa!!" Well, not being Japanese, of course, I was irked a little bit at first. But then, I thought, how would they know? It's not like they have so many experiences with Asian people that they could tell the difference. So I said back to them "Konichiwa," which made them cackle, and then I said "Hola," to which they responded back enthusiastically, and then I said "Hello, I'm from America." There was a moment of silence, before their teacher spoke up and said, "Ah, Americans."

It's a small thing, but I like to think that maybe, just maybe, there was a lesson there in cross-cultural dialogue.

Anyways, the logistics:

-LAN was the airline that we took from Dallas to LA, to Santiago. I'd recommend it. Alcoholic beverages are still free on LAN, whereas they now cost $$ on American Airlines international flights!

-The airline we flew while in the country was Aerolineas del Sur, which also goes by the name Air Comet. It was cool. Easy enough to book on-line, low fares, and the flight attendants have these funny, 1980's, futuristic-style, fluorescent green, leather jackets as part of their uniforms. I wanted one.

-We took a whole slough of buses between cities, all of which were nice, timely and well-priced- like $6 person for a 4 hour trip. Not bad. Our favorite was probably the overnight JAC bus from Pucon to Santiago, for which we booked the "salon cama" or sleeping car, and slept like babies for 10 hours in comfy seats that leaned all the way back. These seats cost about $35 per person.

Places we stayed:

-Natales Hostel in Puerto Natales. I'd say skip it. It was REALLY cold, and the rooms didn't feel totally clean, plus, it's a bit far from the bus station. Free Wi-Fi.

-Outsider's Inn in Puerto Varas. Cute, low-key, friendly hostel in the center of town, free internet. Only 4 rooms?

-Geronimo Hostel in Pucon- we were there for only 1 night, but the hosts were extremely helpful in booking our volcano excursion, even though we arrived so late, the room was clean and cute, in fact, it really felt much more like a hotel than a hostel. Free Wi-Fi.

-Hotel Orly in Santiago- Quaint, boutique hotel with a lot of character, but also full of American tourists. Great neighborhood, close to the subway and tourist center, nice breakfast, free Wi-Fi. The staff was a tad brusque, but whatever.

Go to Chile! You'll love it!

Where to next? Well, aside from France NEXT WEEK, I have to say that my first taste of South America was a good one. I'd love to head back there sometime, maybe to Peru and northern Chile? Any suggestions?

Chile- The Last Day

2008-04-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

On the last day of our trip, we finally get a chance to explore Santiago. This huge, cosmopolitan city boasts a view clear to the Andes on a good day, but is also notorious for being smoggy and congested. No Andes for us. But, we did explore the Plaza de Armas, and came across the main Catedral where Sunday Mass was being held...

We also made our way over the the Mercado Central, a bustling fish market with row after row of fishmongers selling some of the freshest fish I've seen... as I watched Jack take a picture of some sardines, I was spit at by a barnacle!

Across the river begins another pair of markets, La Vega Chica and La Vega Central, selling all sorts of fresh produce, household wares, grains, nuts and spices, among other utilities. The markets took us a good hour to walk through, and I find them to be the largest public markets I've ever visited.
A short walk brought us back to Bellavista, the neighborhood we visted the previous evening. In the daytime, we were surprised to find some really whimsical and vibrant pieces of street art...

Our last stop before the storm, a visit to La Chascona, one of the 3 homes of Pablo Neruda. La Chascona, or, the "Woman with Tousled Hair," is named after the poet's third wife, whom he met strolling through the park at the bottom of the hill. The inside of the house was made to resemble a ship, and indeed, the walls were narrow, the ceilings were low, and the windows were port-hole like. He also decorated the walls and shelves with eclectic pieces of art that he collected from all over the world during his time as ambassador. The overall affect is fantastical and imaginative, and gives you a glimpse into the passions and brilliance of this famed artist.

And finally, to the airport. Boo hoo! Our trip is over!

A 9 hour flight brought us from Santiago to Dallas, where we caught our final leg back to Seattle, this time, with our luggage! I watched a tear jerking, heart sobbing movie on the plane called "P.S. I Love You," about a woman who is trying to cope with her husband's death, and clinged to Jack's arm the entire time as he snored away. And then, we were home! No incidents, no luggage worries, and back to a beautiful sunny day in Seattle.

Chile- A Day in the Sun

2008-04-26T07:38:00.000-07:00

On our second to last day in Chile, we were blessed with a gorgeous, sunny day, even though the forecast said rain. We took advantage of this good fortune and headed to the two coastal towns of Valparaiso and Vina del Mar. From Santiago, we caught a bus right from the Parajito subway station, and arrived in Valparaiso an hour and a half later.

Valparaiso is a fascinating place. The city rises up from the coast onto several, suprisingly steep hills. The commercial district is on the flat part near the water, while the charming neighborhoods tuck themselves into the risings of the hills. The colors are vibrant, and there is art everywhere... even the graffiti is intricate and stunning.

Many of the buildings have an interesting mix of old, colonial european-style architecture, but the flavor of the streets is distinctly latin.

Because of the steep hills, Valparaiso has a set of funiculars, like cable cars set on tracks, that take you from the bottom of the hill to the top. It's a short ride, but you feel like you're in a different world when you get to the top. The atmosphere is suddenly removed from the hustle and bustle of the commercial center, and is replaced by a tranquil, almost festive atmosphere. There are views galore, and as you walk through the cobblestone streets, passing colorful houses, shops and cafes, the strains of cheerful latin and salsa music drift to your ears.

We stopped for lunch at this cafe, which had an amazing mural on the wall. Oh, and yes, we had such a great time with Francois the previous day in the vineyards, he's joined us for this day trip as well.
After a nice, leisurely meal, we took a brand-spanking new monorail to Vina del Mar, which was about a 10 minute ride up the coast. Vina del Mar doesn't have the same bohemian, artsy flare that it's neighbor does, but we found some interesting statues and ornamentations on the buildings and in the parks of this elegant and wealthy town.

We caught this incredible sunset on the bus ride back to Santiago...

When we arrived back to Santiago, we said goodbye to our buddy Francois. It's weird, traveling does this strange thing, where you feel like you can become really good friends with a person in a concentrated amount of time. It's the act of exploration, discovery and shared experiences that makes you feel like you have history together. We'd only known him for two days, but we knew all about his family, his job, saw pictures of his friends in South Africa, and had a pretty good grasp of how he would react to certain things. I suppose this is part of why I love to travel- to be able to develop these relationships, with locals and with other travelers, where you feel like you've shared something meaningful and irreplaceable in what could be just a day, and then, you part ways, and continue on with your journeys, knowing that somehow, you've been blessed by friendship in a way that you wouldn't have known had you not left the comfort of your home in the first place.

Anyways, of course we exchanged emails, and immediately added each other to facebook, so now we'll be friends for life. Jack and I spent the evening roaming Bellavista, a really cool, hipster neighborhood that reminds me quite a bit of the village in Manhattan, or maybe Brooklyn. The scene was picking up at 9pm on this Saturday night, the music was blaring and the crowds were out in force. We kept it simple and enjoyed a few cocktails and a light dinner.

We decided to walk home, and passed these magnificent fountains along the way. Wouldn't you know it, they made me have to pee. Don't worry, I made it back to the hotel.

Chile- Providencia

2008-04-25T23:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, things just work out in a way where you can actively feel the presence of One who lays out a path on your behalf. Avenue de Providencia is the main drag in Santiago that our hotel sits off of by a block, but I find that Providence played a most crucial part in the success of our first day in this graceful capital city.

Jack and I sleep well on buses. And why wouldn't we, when our bus looks like this?

We rolled into town at 7am this morning on our overnight bus, after attaining the best night of sleep we've had during this entire trip. We slept pretty much the entire 10 hours, exhausted after our grueling volcano hike. The bus seats in this sleeping car were like real beds- super cushy, leg rests and backs that extended all the way, blankets and pillows provided... it was like flying first class, but on a bus. We even got drinks before bed, and breakfast with coffee in the morning!

We easily made our way to our cute little boutique hotel, (not a hostel but a real hotel- our splurge for this final leg of our trip). Since we weren't able to check in right away, the concierge stored our luggage for us and invited us to have breakfast in the quaint dining room. Awesome! Fresh rasberry juice!

We changed and washed up a little (still haven't had a shower since the volcano hike!) and walked down the street to the tourist office. We were interested in spending some time in the Chilean wine country, but for something that markets agressively to tourists, it is strangely inaccessible. It's not possible to walk into a winery just for a tasting- you have to call in advance, oftentimes 24 hours ahead of time. Hence, the many expensive bus tours heading out to the Maipo, Colchagua and Casablanca valleys, catering to gringos like us. It justed seemed too costly to be worth it.

As we sat in the tourist office discussing the possibilities with an agent, we noticed that another traveler had sat down at the agent desk next to ours and was also in the process of trying to get himself out to the vineyards. He gave us a friendly smile, and said, "Are you trying to go to wine country today?" We said that we were, and as both of our agents hustled to gather brochures and maps for us, we developed a plan amongst ourselves. As it turns out, Francois, a young South African guy traveling alone in Santiago for 3 days, was in town with just a single mission- to taste as many Chilean wines as possible. We instantly felt comfortable with this happy go lucky traveler who reminded us of a few of our close friends rolled into one cheerful package- (JR, RD)... and decided to rent a car together, and drive down to the Maipo valley for the day.

As a winemaker himself at an established South African winery, Francois had set up an appointment with Vina Chocalan, a winery that his boss had become aquainted with at an international vintner's trade show. Cool! We made a few other arrangements, including appointments at 2 other wineries in the Colchagua valley and 2 hours later, we were on our way.

It was all pretty amazing how well everything worked out. The car we rented was a stick, and though Jack and I don't drive manual, Francois does. The roads and directions we had for the winery were poor, and he definitely needed some help navigating his way out of the city and into the country. (Plus, South Africans drive on he other side of the road.) We got lost about 5 times. Somehow, though we don't speak Spanish, we managed finally to wind our way down the dirt path leading to Vina Chocolan's beautiful and remote facility.

We were met by Julie, the young, French marketing director for the winery, whom Francois had been communicating with over email. Turns out that on this day, they were in the process of their harvest, and even as we approached, we could smell the fermentation, see the workers picking grapes in the fields, and watch the fruit being sorted and de-stemmed in the large machines. Julie introduced us to Sebastian, the French winemaker who was in the barrel room taking measurements. He talked to us about the types of grapes he used in his wines, and spoke particularly passionately about the carmenere, a certain type of vine that was believed to have been killed off by fungus in France, but was then discovered to be living a healthy life here in Chile. Carmenere is now considered to be one of Chile's signature wines.

We were led into the tasting room, a beautiful glass box facing the rolling hills covered with vineyards, and proceeded to taste 5 different wines. It was really magical. Not the usual wine tasting experience where you're shepherded through different tastes with speed and agenda in order to make room for other visitors at the bar. Instead, we had the whole place to ourselves. Julie was so warm and personable as she poured us our generous tastes, it was a little bit like we had been invited to her home for the afternoon. We were also soon joined by Sebastian again, and Aida, the general manager. This is definitely not the kind of attention we normally get at a
tasting room!

Jack, Sebastian, Julie and Francois

Before we knew it, we had been there for over 3 hours, and it was time for us to say goodbye. Jack and Francois each bought a bottle to savor later, and in a flurry of cheek kisses and exchanging of business cards, we headed back to the city. So we only got to hit one winery. It's better this way. It was definitely a luxury to be able to spend as much time there as we did.

Upon arriving back in Santiago, we made plans with Francois to meet up for dinner after an hour or so to enjoy a meal at a wine restaurant that Julie had recommended. We checked into our hotel, and finally! A hot shower! I haven't felt this clean since... ?

Dinner was at Baco, a glittery restaurant off the beaten path, but fairly close to our hotel. On this night, food was secondary. It was all about the wines. Between the 3 of us, we tasted 8 different vintages! The thoughtful sommelier, Eugene, carefully suggested these delicious Chilean wines, and we received a few looks from the other diners around us as glass after glass was delivered to our table by our ecstatic waiter.

It was a fabulous evening of good conversation as well, as we learned more about this cool person that we happened to cross paths with in this brief moment in time. Francois exudes such a joie de vivre, forever laughing, taking things in stride, inquisitive, thoughtful and interesting. He seems like the kind of person that stars will go out of their way to align for, just because of the way he interacts with his world and the people around him. We felt blessed to share this time, and this wine, with him.

Chile- 30 years old and feeling it!

2008-04-24T21:39:00.000-07:00

I enjoy a good hike. I really do. If I told you this with Jack standing behind me, he would probably shake his head, roll his eyes, smirk a little and silently mouth the word "no..."

But I enjoy the fresh air, a nice, pleasant packed dirt trail, beautiful fauna and flora, shade, an awesome view, and nothing too steep. With this, I could go for hours. I don't think I'm a hiking rookie. In fact, I've hiked a small alp or two, a few canadian rockies, and heck, I grew up in California, and have hiked in many mountains, from the Shasta area to the Sierras, all the way down to Yosemite and Ojai.

All that said, I did not have a good time on this volcano hike. Our guide books didn't say much about this climb, and I'm convinced that whover wrote the Pucon section didn't actually do it. Our friend Jeff said that one of the highlights of his trip to Chile was to climb this volcano to the top of the crater and peer in to see the lava. So we just got it into our heads that it was something good to do. Looking back, we had no idea that we would be in for the toughest climb of our lives. For starters, I'm not much of a herd hiker. True, there were only 6 people total in our excursion today, plus 2 guides, but even still, I like to take my time and not worry about holding anyone back.
Things I'll remember about this day? Wearing the rented clothes and shoes that smelled of other people's sweat. The ill-fitting hiking boots, again, not mine. The super patient guides. The gooey gobs of snot clinging to the edges of my nostrils (from the wind. Come on, you've been there too.) The brochure with happy looking people standing at the top of the volcano giving a thumbs up. Same, said people, sliding down the volcano on their butts in what looked to be soft, fluffy snow. The crampons. The gaitors. The helmet. The ICE AXE. Looking up and seeing just a wall, and knowing that somehow, someway, I have to make myself go up. Thinking to myself, I paid to do this. Another thought, how the hell am I going to get down? Another thought on the way down, how much would it hurt if I just hurled myself over the cliff? The blisters, the bruises, the feeling that it would never end, falling on my knees 4 times.

And then there was the view. Yes, the view was gorgeous. Insane actually. I don't think I've ever seen a view quite like this before. Looking around, all you see is glacier, mountains, and another volcano in the distance, this one actually spewing something hundreds of meters into the air. Yes, it was quite active. As was the volcano we were climbing. It was like walking on a live, enormous animal. Our guides, Pablo y Pedro, said that this was the first year where they've noticed a significant absence of snow, and the glacier was melting at a faster rate than ever... which meant, no sliding down in soft, fluffy snow- we would have to hike down. Near the top, we began coughing, feeling our lungs burn, not knowing why until Pablo said, do you feel the gas? We looked up, and noticed that Volcano Villarica was spewing toxic gas into the air, a mix of sulfur, and other smelly gases that actually made my eyes sting for a while. The total climb should be about 5 hours, but an hour from the top, we really didn't feel up for going any further. Of the 3 parties in the our group, the Brazilians made it to the 3rd rest stop, the Americans (us) made it to the 4th rest stop, and only the two women from Europe made it all the way to the top. But they assured us that we didn't miss much- the view wasn't much different from where we had stopped, the climb in the last hour was the absolute hardest and steepest, they didn't see any lava, and the way down in the last hour was the most difficult part of the entire climb.

At one point, Pablo looked at me, almost apologetically, and asked, "Are you Ok?" In my head, I was screaming with desperation, fighting to hold back the tears of frustration, but all I could do was smile and say, "Just tired." He nodded understandingly, grabbed my hand, and just pulled me for a few minutes. All in all, it was really tough. Tougher than the marathon I ran last year. At least with the marathon, you have music, parties every mile, people cheering you on, volunteers handing out gatorade...

Was the view worth it? Well, am I really going to say no? Of course it was. It had to be. If there was a helicopter option to get to the top of the volcano, would I have opted for that instead? Heck yeah. But climbing is the only way up, and walking slowly is the only way down, now that the glacier is melting and there is no snow to slide on. And so, we climbed, and in retrospect, are grateful for the people we met along the way who could commiserate with our pain and share just a few hours of a truly unique human experience. We appreciate the talent, patience and skill of our guides (who do this climb everyday, by the way), and of course, we're just thankful that we made it down safe, whole, a little sore, but with yet another incredible segment of this journey under our belts.

Since we had already checked out of our hostel in the morning, and were boarding an overnight bus back to Santiago (10 hours) the same night, we didn't have a place to shower! But oh well. I stopped caring about cleanliness a few days ago. I smell. All of my clothes smell. Jack smells. So if everything we own smells, and we acknowledge that we smell, do we really smell? I don't think so. But maybe the person next to me does...

Chile- The Lucerne of Chile?

2008-04-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

Well, we left Patagonia behind and after a full day of traveling that took us on a 3 hour bus ride from Puerta Natales to Punta Arenas, a 2 hour flight from Punta Arenas to Puerto Montt, we caught a local short bus to Puerta Varas, arriving in the late afternoon. We walked into town and found A-frame, chalet-style buildings, friendly blond, blue-eyed folks, a lovely lake-side setting fringed by a manicured, waterfront promenade with snow-capped peaks in the distance... No, not the alps, the Andes, of course! They don't call this town the "Lucerne of Chile" for nothing!

This is Volcano Osorno in the distance...

We checked into the Outsider's Inn, and were greeted by a German speaking, elderly gentleman with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Austrian, he told us. The area we are in now is called the Lake District, and about a century ago, Chile did a massive recruit of Swiss and Bavarian industrialists and entreprenuers to the area, luring many of these people to the beautiful region, which actually reminded them a lot of home. They quickly set up shop here, and the Bavarian influence can be seen everywhere. We had a fantastic dinner, and for the first time on this trip, just relaxed in the evening. Too bad we were only in town for one night.

The next morning, we caught a bus to Valdivia, and spent the sunny afternoon in this elegant and sophisticated university town. We had a delicious lunch at the Cafe Hausmann, sampled their refreshing micro-brew, and the gracious owner even treated us to the house specialty crudito- raw, mashed up beef on toast, covered with onions, lemon juice, and some sort of a vegetable cream tartar sauce- believe me when I say that it was truly, absolutely delicious! We looked around us and it was really the only item anyone else in the restaurant was ordering... like heaping plates of this stuff!

We had a few hours before we had to catch an evening bus to our next destination, so we headed to the Mercado Fluvial, a bustling fish/produce market right on the waterfront. It was an actual, functioning market, with many of the locals wandering about to check out the fresh catch of the day, and watching the big sea lions on the wharf begging for scratch from the fishmongers. We got to try murta, a sweet, peppery berry that we had never seen before, and bought a bag to munch on for our boat cruise.

We thought we would be the only people on this boat, that would cruise in a circle around the river Valdivia, but a few minutes before we left, a group of 2 women and a man got on board as well. The man picked a table near us, and immediately struck up conversation in English...

"So, where are you from?" Turns out, Gabriel is a native Chilean, but immigrated to New Zealand many years ago, and is now living in Melbourne, Australia. When we met him, he was traveling with his mother and mother in law. He seemed happy to have an opportunity to speak English, and proceeded to translate the entire tour for us, which was great, because, otherwise, we would have sat there smiling through the whole thing like a couple of goons. We talked about our families, our passion for traveling, our professions, and Chilean culture. At the end of the cruise, we parted ways, exchanged information to remain in contact, and wished each other well.

We had about another 2 hours before we had to catch our bus, so we took a walk through the university and checked out the botanical gardens. Nothing amazing, but then again, we weren't sure if we actually found the main gardens. Totallly dehydrated and exhausted from travel, we found a chi-chi cafe, where we tried a truly delicious kuchen, and I ordered my favorite Chilean drink, RASBERRY JUICE! It's soooooooooo good!

We made it to the terminal de buses in good time, and caught our bus to Pucon. It was a smooth ride, although it's always a little bit tough to cruise into a new town after dark. You really don't get the full feel of the place, and I think there is a certain apprehension that pervades even the most optimistic of minds. However, we made it to the Hostel Geronimo with no problem and managed to book a hiking excursion to climb the Volcano Villarica the following day. The owners of our hostel really bent over backwards trying to help, even though they didn't speak much English, and called the excursion guide for us, who actually came over to our hostel at 9 pm to assure us that the hike would be "no problemo." Cool! We found a nice Italian joint for dinner and carbo-loaded for our big day.

Chile- The Howling Winds of Patagonia

2008-04-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

This morning, when we went downstairs for breakfast, we were ecstatic to see that our luggage had arrived in the middle of the night! Glory Hallelujah! I was so thrilled that I decided to levitate.

Today, we took a day tour to the Torres del Paines National Park, the main attraction in this region of Chile. We started off our day at the Cave de Miladon, a huge gaping mouth carved into the side of a giant block of granite. About a hundred years ago, some Swedish scientists discovered pieces of skin from an extinct herbivorous animal, and deduced that the animal had coexisted with humans at some point in time.

After 45 minutes trying to figure out just how far back the cave went, we got back on the van and headed to the Torres, or, the towers. We traveled on unpaved, pothole ridden roads still wet from the storms of the previous night. Soon, our eyes cast upon these treasures...

Guanacos, a funny looking animal, and a flying saucer disguised as a cloud.

The beautiful green waters (green due to mineral deposits of magnesium, sodium and calcium) of Lake Sarmiento with the snow-covered granite towers shrouded in clouds, as the fresh air filled Jack with such joy that he did a little song and dance...

Through the thick clouds, you can barely make out the tooth-shaped Torres...

And from a different view point, the Torres again, as I point them out, just in case you miss them!

This little fox was so comfortable with us around that he posed for us en vogue...

Our last stop at Lago Grey to see the Gray Glacier required hiking across a beach blowing with the strongest winds I've ever experienced. Jack said it was a lot like Chicago. The lake is the coldest in the park, with the run off from Gray Glacier melting into it, and sending giant icebergs floating towards the beach.

Here is the glacier in the far distance.

What an amazing day! This was certainly a highlight for us, and I'm sure it will be for the entire trip. The shapes of things here in Patagonia are so profoundly dramatic, and the southern sun seems to hit the landscape in a distinctly different way than what we're used to, drawing forth an intensity in color and shadow that leaves us speechless, yet bursting with excitement at the same time. We've only been here 2 full days and probably already have at least 600 photos! It's somehow reminiscent of New Zealand, with much of the same topography, even existing at roughly the same latitude, although Patagonia itself is the southern most piece of land in the world, aside from Antarctica. Yet, things here are bigger, sharper, at once ephemeral, raw, and mythical. It's an experience.

Tomorrow, we bid farewell to this incredible land, and head north to continue our journey.

Chile- At the end of the world

2008-04-20T20:13:00.000-07:00

One of my biggest inspirations for wanting to visit Chile in the first place is probably the movie Motorcycle Diaries. I rented it about a year ago when Jack had already settled in Seattle, and I was spending the night on my own. I remember being moved by the incredible scenery, the endless roads, the limitless sky, the romance of that kind of freedom to roam the earth. And of course, many, many shots of a pensive-looking Gabriel Gael Garcia helps too. I loved the movie so much that I watched it twice. In a row. Today, I got my first taste of the South America that I've been longing for, on the road between Chile and Argentina, en route to El Calafate. Except that instead of cruising through the country roads on a motorcycle with Jack, we were on a van tour with 8 other passengers.

We woke up early, too early in fact, thinking that it was 6 am when it was only 5, unknowingly rushing the poor hostel guy to arrange breakfast for us at 5:30 when the breakfast room didn't actually open until 6:30. Our van picked us up at our hostel at 7 am, and we watched the sun color in the sky for the next few hours. The morning light was almost magical, touching upon everything in site with a sort of life-giving quality. Our main goal for the day was to visit the Perito Moreno, a gigantic glacier across the border in Argentina, that is, unlike most other glaciers which are retreating due to global warming, in a stage of conservation. I had first heard about this glacier on the Patagonia episode of "Man vs. Wild," when Bear Grylles somersaulted out of a helicopter and ended up on a sheet of ice. It was truly incredible. And of course he took off his clothes, did some jumping jacks and push ups, dipped himself in the freezing water to "stay warm" and then dried himself with snow. Of course. But what really struck me were the incredible sheets of blue ice that surrounded him, and I put Perito Moreno on my list of places to go before I die. Don't worry, it's a very long list.

After the ordeal of the past few days, we were finally rewarded with an incredible day. There is something about the sky here that makes me feel closer to it- I had this same feeling in Denmark once, but I think it had to do with the really tall people and the short, squat buildings. Here, there's a vastness in the landscape similar in parts to California, with nothing to block your view for miles on end. Sort of makes me feel a wee bit taller.

After several stops at border patrol offices, and 4 hours on the road, we arrived at a beautiful little town called El Calafate, which, with the addition of a new airport a few years ago, has seen a 5 fold increase in the influx of tourists to the region. It was a gorgeous sunny day in the town, and we picked up an English speaking tour guide to help us understand the glacier. Another hour and a half drive took us into the mountains, where we caught our first jaw dropping glimpse of Perito Moreno.

I've seen glaciers before- some in Alaska, Canada, the U.S., and New Zealand when we went a few years ago. But all of the glaciers I've ever seen have been retreating, strewn with dirt and exposing rock as they melted, giving them a grayish tinge. This glacier, on the other hand, is in a state of conservation, with fresh ice being pushed to the front of it everyday, casting dazzling blue light in the vast crevices of ice.

We were able to get close enough to it where we could here the water lapping up against the block, and at times, hear the rumbling of ice as it cracked off of the glacier and tumbled into the bright, blue water below. This glacier exists on the Strait of Magellenes, an area 100 km from the Pacific and 300 km from the Atlantic, where cold air currents from the Antarctic mingle with warm air from the Atlantic, creating constant precipitation. So even though it was a beautiful day in El Calafate, the weather turned blustery once we reached the glacier. From here, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves...

As we roamed the glacier look out points, we befriended Jim, the guy who had been sleeping all morning in the back of our van. Turns out he's a really cool British dude who's been on a round the world tour by himself for the last 8 months. Chile is his last stop, and he heads back home in a two weeks after traveling to places like Russia, Cambodia, Laos, Nepal, Tibet, China, Borneo, India... all amazing, incredible and difficult places to travel. I have the utmost respect for the roamers of the world. And it's always great to strike up a conversation with a fellow traveller and to share stories... a bit of friendship and familiarity, even if for just a brief cross-section in time. Safe travels, Jim!

One last comment about an observation I had today. I really love the greeting of "Hola Amigo." Hello friend. Of course, it's probably one of the first phrases you learn in Beginner's Spanish, but there's something about being greeted in that way that I find absolutely charming. Not like anyone said it to me. But a whole bunch of people said it to our driver. At the border stop, in town, even when he pulled off on the side of the road to help out a stranded car, (turns out he knew the guy), and was greeted again with "Hola Amigo" and a very warm handshake. It's a greeting that indicates closeness, a certain preciousness. I just like it.

Luggage update: Rumor has it that our long lost bags are on their way to our hostel tonight and should arrive sometime after midnight... we'll see... keeping fingers crossed.

Chile- A rough 48 hours...

2008-04-19T20:51:00.000-07:00

I have a bone to pick with American Airlines. This morning as we sat on our last flight in a 48 hour period, I could tell that Jack was mentally crafting his complaint letter to AA. Let me explain our last 2 days.

For months now, I've eagerly awaited our Chile vacation with excited anticipation, imagining the towering granite spires of Patagonia, the crystalline lakes surrounded by volcanoes, the moans of the glaciers as they calve into the icy water, the glowing grapevines in the vineyards post-harvest...

I've pored over almost every Chile travel book in my local bookstore, scoured the internet for travel blogs and small tips, spent hours reading traveler reviews of Chilean hostels across the country. I finally felt like I had crafted the perfect itinerary, one that took care of a few of our activities and accomodations beforehand, yet left enough room for us to cruise into a town and wing it.

We booked our tickets on American Airlines, using miles we've accumulated over the past few years. It was almost like a free trip! Our flight itinerary had us heading from Seattle to Santiago, via a connection in Dallas. We would land in Santiago early Friday morning, giving us the whole day to explore the city, and the next day we would catch an early flight to Punta Arenas, the gateway to Patagonia. So how did I find myself in Los Angeles Friday morning? It's been a weird 48 hours.

After what happened to us last year in Greece, I wanted to make sure that we had at least a couple of hours to make that connection. I booked a flight that gave us 3 hours in between- perfect. Just in case. A few weeks before departure, I got an email from AA saying that our itinerary had changed, and now our 3 hour window had been narrowed to an hour and a half. Ok. No problem. What could go wrong?

We got to Sea-Tac airport on Thursday afternoon for our afternoon flight a few hours early, giddy with excitement for the trip ahead, to learn that our flight had been delayed by 20 minutes. Ok. Should be fine... right?

It all started so innocently. The flight was smooth. The captain said we would make up the time in the air. We would be in Dallas as scheduled. 30 minutes before landing, we noticed that we had been in a holding pattern for a while. The announcement came. Major thunderstorms in Dallas. They should clear out soon, she said. We'll be on the ground shortly. I cast a concerned look at Jack, and he shot one back that said, no worries. So I remained calm. Our arrival time came and went, and we were still in the air. Then, the other announcement. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the thunderstorms persist, noone is being allowed to land at DFW right now. We need to refuel and will be landing in Odessa, about 160 miles outside of Dallas."

Be cool, I told myself. We'll totally make that connection. If we can't land, they can't leave, right? We landed in Odessa, Texas to little fanfare, just the groans of the passengers around us. I thought I was staying pretty calm. I thought I was being cool. I made a few "I wish" statements (I wish we'd get a move on... I wish the rain would stop), and then a few "I hopes" for good measure (I hope we make that connection!!! I hope our bags make it too) when Jack suddenly spoke up and told me that I was being quite "vocal" about our situation. Hm. That surprised me. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and proceeded to chomp vigorously. We checked the AA on-line flight schedule from Jack's phone, which showed that our connecting flight had been delayed by 20 minutes. We would miss it.

And so we did. We arrived back in Dallas 25 minutes after our Santiago flight left without us. I was bummed. Seriously bummed. But willing to roll with it. We'd lose our first day in Santiago, but maybe we could still make it into Chile in time to catch our flight to Patagonia. We managed to book ourselves onto a flight the next morning which would take us from Dallas to Los Angeles, to Lima and finally to Santiago. The ticket agent who rebooked our flight really didn't inspire much confidence as to whether or not we would see our baggage on the other end. She assured us (not very reassuringly) that she had put in a baggage transfer request and it should be on the same flight as us. In the meantime, AA put us in a nearby hotel with a very panicked looking night manager. I supposed I would panic too if my sleepy hotel suddenly flooded with stranded airline passengers at midnight.

So, we slept and hoped for a better day in the morning. Well, things went smoothly. We caught our flight into smoggy LA, got a quick bite to eat, and easily made it to our connecting plane and finally! Onwards to South America. The Chile flight was nice- not packed in, we had plenty of room to spread out. We even watched a really horrible Kerri Russell movie called "August Rush" in which she plays a concert cellist (a really bad one at that) but I still cried at the end when she was reunited with her family. Must have been the stress. We slept well on the flight and were in Santiago at 5:30 AM Saturday morning, enough time to clear customs, pick up our bags and catch our flight to the end of the world.

Except our bags weren't there. We waited and we waited. And then we were the last people waiting, and that's a very bad feeling. Especially when the conveyer belt stops. To make a long story short, nobody knows were our bags are. They might be in Dallas, they might be in LA, they might have finally made it to Santiago somehow. But nobody knows. Supposedly someone is trying to find them for us, but we've given up. We resigned ourselves to the fact that our 2 duffels are floating around in the sky somewhere. We turned around and got on our plane for Punta Arenas anyways. We have just the clothes we're wearing. All of our valuables are with us, thankfully, as well as our toothbrushes. In the end, I guess that's all we really need. I've had enough time now to mull this over where I can be philosophical about this instead of FREAKING OUT OF MY HEAD. Perhaps God is trying to tell us that we don't need "stuff" to see the world, that we're too reliant on our own plans, that sometimes, we just need to go with the flow... and so we're flowing. I wonder if I'm the only person who's ever arrived in Patagonia in flip flops. They're great for flying, but not so good for climbing glaciers.

We arrived in Punta Arenas in the early afternoon, and immediately embarked on a serious shopping spree. New hiking boots and waterproof jacket, underwear, socks, a new pair of pants for each of us, a few shirts and sweaters. On a sidenote, buying clothes in South America is certainly humbling. Everything that I grabbed that should have fit, didn't quite fit. The pants are too long and too tight around the waist and in the butt, whereas the sweaters and tops seem to have more room, even in the small sizes, and especially around the bust. That just means that the women here are thin, tall and big-chested- everything i'm not.

We grabbed a bite to eat (some seriously decadent empanadas!) and then caught a 3 hour bus ride to Puerto Natales, our home base for the next 3 days. We found our hostel in the dark as it poured cats and dogs (thank goodness I'm no longer wearing my flip flops!) and now we sit, calm, dry, at peace with the world, in front of the fireplace at our cozy hostel. A real wood fireplace. A couple of glasses of wine. Yep, things are getting better. In fact, Jack says he's having a pretty good time.

Tomorrow, we're going to Argentina. To see a crazy glacier. Sweet.

2008-04-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

Coming soon...

Chile 2008!

April 17 - 28

Stay tuned for all the details as we fumble our non-Spanish speaking selves through the beauty and splendor of this string bean of a country...

The Nike Women's Marathon 2007

2007-10-22T09:45:00.000-07:00

Sunday October 21, 2007

Perhaps this entry doesn't really fit in the "travel the world" blog, but it is certainly a journey of sorts. And we did make the trip to San Francisco for the weekend!

The scene: Union Square, San Francisco, 6:15 am on Sunday, 10/21.
The event: Nike Women's Marathon 2007

So I've been training for this marathon off and on for just about a year, but most intensively in the past 3 months. Tallying up the miles on my travel log, I've run 264 miles since mid June!

Here I am stretching out at 6 in the morning in Union Square. I have to say, I've never seen so many women in one place at the same time. There are about 20,000 runners in the marathon this year, an event which benefits the Leukemia Lymphoma Society.

Yes, guys can run it too, but the official scores go to the women. My guy opted to cheer me on instead. The sun was just barely starting to come up, but the air was charged with excitement and adrenaline. I was a little bit overwhelmed and slightly intimidated by all of the Team in Training people and their purple shirts and their coaches; but halfway through the race, I would be so happy to have them cheering me on, even though I'm not a part of their team.

I found my timing group (10-12 minutes per mile) and found a spot at the starting place. At around 6:40am, we heard a roar of cheering as the Elite Women headed out. These are the ladies that look like they could run this marathon, then be showered and back in bed for a nap by 9am.

And then, suddenly it was 7 am, and group by group, we headed to the Start line. The first few miles were so exciting, and even though it was slow because of the crowds, I felt like I was one small leg on a giant millipede, winding it's way through the city. The course for this marathon is exceedingly beautiful, showing off San Francisco in all her glory. We started in Union Square, ran by the TransAmerica Pyramid, headed down to the Embarcardero, which we followed around the Marina and through to the Presidio, complete with breathtaking views of the Golden Gate Bridge in the early morning light. I was pleasantly surprised to see Jack at around mile 5, as we rounded the Marina.

At mile 6, we started a steep climb up Lincoln Blvd. which lasted roughly 1.3 miles. At the crest of the hill, there was a collective scream of joy, as runners reached the top and saw the amazing view of the glittering Bay... and a downhill track for as far as the eyes could see! Somewhere during the climb, I saw Dawn, who had crossed the Golden Gate Bridge to cheer me on. It was a great energy booster to see her during this strenuous climb.

At roughly mile 10, I was enjoying a swift downhill gait and feeling on top of the world, when we rounded the corner, and I was suddenly struck by the most unbelievable view of the Pacific Ocean, luminescent waves crashing infinitely on a misty beach! It was such a surreal union of so many different senses in that one moment; from the physical high that I was feeling, to the incredible vision before my eyes, the fresh smell of the ocean and rocking out on my ipod at that very minute was KT Tunstall singing "Suddenly I see, this is what I wanna be, Suddenly I see, why the hell it means so much to me..." I think that was probably the most glorious moment of the entire marathon for me. To be honest, I even shed a few tears of happiness... until the trail suddenly started to incline, at which point, those tears weren't so happy anymore!

Below, I receive a Haw Gao on a stick from Melissa, when she, Dawn and Jack greeted me as the course wound it's way through Golden Gate Park.

At mile 16, we exited Golden Gate Park and continued on to the Great Highway. I think it was at this point, that I started walking because I could feel myself losing steam. Something in my right knee was starting to burn, and there was also a strange pulling sensation going on in my hip. It was also around this point that the full marathoners caught a glimpse of the half marathoners crossing their finish line and looking happy to be done... I was soooo jealous! Seeing my friends at mile 18 cheering me on was the pick me up that I needed, at least for the next 2 miles.
I was determined to run most of mile 20 as we headed out around Lake Merced, because I had dedicated that mile to Jen, who I knew was praying for me at that very moment. But as soon as I crossed the mile 21 marker, I had to walk, and walked most of that mile, making it the LONGEST MILE EVER! By this point, I had some serious pain in my right leg, but I really felt like I was in the home stretch, especially when I saw a lady at mile 22 holding a sign that said "Only 4.2 more miles till flip flops and beer!" That actually made me laugh out loud, and I continued to limp/jog for the next 2 miles. (I was so loopy at this point that many things were making me laugh out loud.)

Halfway through mile 24, back on the Great Highway, I could feel the energy of the crowd and the draw of the finish line, but I was also feeling desperate... were these miles getting longer, or was it just me?? Suddenly, I saw Jack, jogging towards me, like a fish swimming against the current of many many female fish, and when I saw him I almost started crying. I stopped my limp/jog, and we walked for a while hand in hand. He chatted happily about the day, taking my mind off of the task at hand and then we picked up a slow jog again at 25.5 miles until at mile 26, some officials told him to get off of the course so that I could finish alone. Only .2 miles to go! I saw Nike's "Finish- Just Did It" banner ahead of me, and I felt a determination that I had never felt before in my entire life as I fixed my eyes ahead. Right before the finish line, I heard someone scream my name, and I looked over and saw Melissa frantically taking pictures.

And then it was over! I finished! On the other side of the finish line was a row of young men wearing tuxedos and running shoes, holding blue Tiffany's boxes with white bows, and I planted myself right in front of one of these guys, because yes, I just finished a Marathon, and by God I wanted my Tiffany Finisher's pendant!!!

Ah, the glory. My muscles tightened up almost the moment I stopped running but at the time it didn't matter. Jay and Emily came out to meet us at the Finishers Village and I limped around picking up free stuff. I've got great friends, let me just say. Recognizing my desire to be stationary, Jack and Emily set off to see if they could buy me a pair of flip flops, Jay ran off to find me some ice, and Melissa helped me hobble over to pick up my jacket that I had checked in during the run.

In the end, I have to say it was an awesome experience. It's funny because those who know me would never associate my name with the word "athlete" let alone "long distance runner". Which leads to the question, "So why run a marathon?" To which I answer, "Hmm."

The idea was planted in my head when over a year ago now, I was hanging out with my neighbor Julie and her baby son, and talking about her pregnancy and labor. When I asked her how the actual birthing part of it was, she replied, "Well, it's like, you've run marathons before, right?" I shook my head. "Oh, well it's kind of like a marathon. It's exciting when it starts, you feel moments of joy and pain in between, but the hard part's at the end." Maybe in a way, I ran this marathon to help me tackle the idea having children. Mind you, I'd like to have kids, just without the whole birthing process... which seems like something I so don't want to do. But hey, now I've run a marathon! Not to say that this compares, because I'm sure that having a baby is much much harder.

Over the months that I've been training though, I think that I've also been hoping that this would be a life changing experience for me. Who knows? Maybe I would grow to love an activity that I had once hated with my entire being. Well, that didn't exactly happen. In fact, it seemed that with every step that I ran, I ended up disliking it even more, to the point where one of my great motivators for actually running the marathon was so that when I finished, I would never have to run again! Well, I don't know if that's all together true now, because actually finishing a marathon changes things for me a little bit. Because now, one of my greatest triumphs in life is associated with running. How can I completely give it up? Especially when, including the marathon and training, my white and blue Mizuno running shoes have officially logged 290.2 miles?? So close to 300! Will I ever run another marathon again? To be honest, NO WAY! But I could probably be convinced to run a half marathon, or more likely, a 5k!

So now, in the end, I think that maybe I did this to prove to myself that there really isn't anything I can't do. I ran a frickin marathon! Me! La Verne Sheu Chen, who got a C- in 6th grade PE for who remembers what, but probably something about running the fewest laps in the school jogathon.

Do I recommend running a marathon? I would very carefully say, "Sure, just know what you're getting into." I've got a blister on the side of my big toe that looks like another toe.

For a great book on training for a marathon if you're like me, read "The Non Runner's Marathon Guide for Women: Get Off Your Butt and On With Your Training," by Dawn Dais, c. 2006.

2007-04-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

Our Greece Isles Vacation- 3 days in Mykonos, 3 days in Santorini, and 2 days in Athens. This blog begins with the most recent day first, and works backwards from there. All of the April posts are from Greece. Enjoy!

2007-04-19T19:46:00.000-07:00

Day 9- Our last day in Greece

The morning began with a bittersweet farewell to Jay and Emily, our fabulous travel companions, as they headed off to Munich and Salzburg for the last leg of their trip.

Finding ourselves with a whole day left in Athens, Jack and I headed out to catch in some sights that we missed yesterday, beginning with the Temple of Zeus, which turned out to be down the street from our hotel. You'd figure that a temple to Zeus, Greek God of all Greek gods, would be more of a draw, but this is pretty much what's left of it. It's only briefly mentioned in my Frommer's guide.

From the temple, we took a 15 minute walk to Kolonaki, the trendy neighborhood you go to see and be seen. It's a super posh shopping district filled with expensive stores and many things that were way out of our price budget, and since it was noontime on a Saturday, it was jammed with wealthy Athenians, sporting their leather jackets, stylish sunglasses and ritzy cars. We were able to find a nice cafe for lunch (we were only able to get seats because we sat inside, whereas everyone else was sitting in the jam packed sidewalk patio) and ordered our last (sniff sniff) Greek salad, this one loaded with rusk, a crispy bread from Crete and tons of Feta.

After lunch, we hiked a steep street and caught a funicular ride up to Lykavvitos Hill, a vantage point from where we were awed by panoramic views of the entire city.

On our way down, we stopped by the flea market, a few long streets crammed with small vendors selling pretty much everything.

And also made our last loukoumades stop, this time at a cafe called Doris. The place was on a desolate side street and the name was written in Greek letters (thank goodness we took Calculus in high school!) and the entire menu was Greek to me, but all we had to say were 2 words- "Loukoumades please!" and a broad grin spread across our waiter's face. They made them fresh for us, 5 to a plate, and since it was our last day, we each ordered 1! They were definitely the lightest and crispiest ones we've eaten so far, but also by far the oiliest, and who would have guessed, beer washes down an oily loukoumadi really well! Forget the coffee!

We stopped by Fantasy Travel to see if Dina, the terrific agent who worked with us for this trip was in, but she had the weekend off. All we can say is, if you go to Greece, book your trip with these guys! It beats the hassle of trying to figure out the mysterious and everchanging ferry schedules on your own, and Dina was super friendly, organized and patient with all of my questions. And no, I'm not being paid to advertise. They were super!

On our way back to our hotel, we stopped by the Olympic stadium, where the games were held just a few years ago. From the street, it doesn't look that big, but when you actually look inside, holy cow! It's like an Olympic stadium!

We took a short rest back at our hotel, and then headed out for our last night on the town. For this occasion, Jack had done some research and booked us a dinner at Spondi, which earned a Michelin star last year. We were seated in a beautiful stone cellar with vaulted ceilings, accented by some interesting chandeliers. And at 8:30pm, we were the first diners for the evening. Most people didn't show up for dinner until after 10:30pm, which is true for most of Europe.

A 7 course eating extravaganza ensued... below is a picture of our amuse bouche, which doesn't count in the 7 courses, as, apparently, neither did 3 other small plates of food that appeared before us!
We rolled out of Spondi just after midnight, slightly drunk, much too full, and joyfully delirious with the memories and experiences of the past week and a half. Greece was like a dream.

When I tell my students where I went over spring break, I find myself trying my hardest to convey the beauty of the white washed houses, the turquoise blue roofs, the magical sunsets, the warmth of the people... but inevitably someone will say, "Isn't that where that movie '300' took place," or, "Hercules is from Greece, right?" And so, instead, my 2nd graders walked out of my room today, remembering most of all, that in Greece, there is a magical food called loukoumades, and that Mrs. Chen ate a whole bunch of them over spring break.

2007-04-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

Day 8- The Birthplace of Democracy

Our day in Athens... for some reason, I heard from several sources that Athens was boring, dirty and congested, and that it really wasn't worth a visit of more than 1 or 2 days. We actually found it to be quite the contrary. It was pretty tough packing in all of the sites into a single day. Instead of finding it boring and dirty, the skies were blue, the birds were chirping, and the air was perfumed by the fragrance of orange blossoms! We found several cool neighborhoods and districts that were quaint and festive, and everywhere we turned, we saw ancient ruins. What's not to like? It's the Parthenon!

And the Theatre of Dionysus...
And this ancient temple, held up by the Caryatids, these lovely women with the roof on their heads, a sacred place of worship to Athena and Poseidon...

And the Ancient Agora, where Socrates drank his hemlock, and St. Peter witnessed to the Greeks, and the idea of democracy was debated and founded...

All that in one morning... time for lunch at a cafe in Syntagma Square, and a moment to figure out what's next!

Just in time for the changing of the guards in front of Parliament!

Emily and I with the Greek guard, trying to look just as stern.

Then on to the National Archeological Museum, which we pose in front of... this picture was funnier when we were actually taking it... it's hard to see the statues that we're imitating in the background. But they're there! Really!

Ancient figurines made out of bronze...

Marble Statue of Aprhodite swatting away an amorous Pan with her sandal.

Another loukomades run, this time at Krina's, a cafe which supposedly sets the standard for all loukamades... check out the giant honey stick! Delicious! Light, crispy and airy, with a slightly doughy center.

Roaming through Omonia Square, we stumble upon the Central market, which is a giant meat market, in every sense of the phrase.

But they also sell some beautiful produce... Greek olives really are to die for.

Jack and I headed out for a pre-dinner drink at a cafe near our hotel, as Jay and Emily took their siesta.

For dinner, we headed to the Gazi district, still somewhat of a transitional neighborhood, but with some cool new restaurants, bars and galleries filling in the holes. A fabulous dinner at Mamacas, sitting on this beautiful patio beneath the flickering lights.

And enjoying some last moments together before catching a taxi back to our hotel.

2007-04-16T19:52:00.000-07:00

Day 7- Farewell to Santorini

Our last day in Santorini was bittersweet- we woke up to a cloudy morning, and being depressed already at the prospect of leaving the island only seemed to make the day a bit chillier. Alas, we decided to check out something indoors for a change, and headed to the Museum of Prehistoric Thera, and then to the Archeology Museum. Both were pretty small, housing ancient artifacts found in the islands of Greece.

Since we finished touring the museums so quickly, we wandered through the streets of Fira, stopping to admire a lovely pastry shop which claimed that it had been making a special pastry there since the 1800's! We decided to try this Greek specialty, called a Kalafati- it tasted to me like pan fried egg noodles drizzled in honey and topped with nuts!

For lunch, we tried out the "best gyro in town," according to our host Nikko. This is Lucky (yes, that's actually his name) shaving off the crispy bits of the largest wheel of pork rotisserie I've seen to date.

So was it actually the best gyro? Maybe in this town. We actually preferred the gyro in Mykonos, though I liked the crispy pieces of meat and the thick tatziki.

After lunch (which included another run to Loukamodoupolis for our favorite Greek treat), we spotted a stone staircase path that led from the top of the cliffs down to the port, and decided to work off all of the meals we had consumed so far on our trip. Over 580 steps later, we found ourselves down by the port, gazing up at the amazing rocky cliffs, with the traditional cave houses built into them.

On our way back up, we were charmed by a cafe owner who enticed us onto his patio with promises of cold drinks and a very delicious (but expensive!) cactus juice. Of course, we didn't know how much that drink cost until after we paid for it, at which point, Emily and I had both already ordered a second round! Tricky...

We spent hours on the patio that afternoon enjoying the glorious view (and savoring every last drop of that cactus juice... I even licked the straw), and then, suddenly it was time to go! Nikko, our beloved host, dropped us off at the airport to catch our evening flight back to Athens.

Back in the city with the islands behind us, we caught a late dinner at a taverna in Plaka, the old town part of Athens, near the Acropolis by our hotel. Tomorrow, the Parthenon!

2007-04-15T21:36:00.000-07:00

Day 6- Ancient Thera and an afternoon at the Villa

Ancient Thera is a classical city from the 9th century BC, set up in the headlands high above the black sand beaches of Kamari town. The city was inhabited until the Byzantine period, and you can see evidence of buildings from this era, along with Hellenistic, and Roman styles. From the top of the ancient city, you get an amazing view of the coast and the southern end of the island.

We arrived at Thera at 9:30 AM, making sure to have plenty of time to wander through the ruins before the area closed at 2pm. Once again, our little put put car made it up the steep, narrow, switchback road, this time encountering some cars that were coming down the opposite way, which was interesting to say the least. We were greeted by a beautiful day and the aroma of wild thyme, growing between the rocky paths.

For lunch, we headed down to Kamari, and ate a pleasent meal at Cafe Classico cafe, situated on the promenade that stretches along the black sand beaches. In the summertime, the beaches are packed with sunbathers and sun umbrellas run for miles down the sand... on this day, just a few European tourists attempting to lie out in the cool wind.

After lunch, we headed back to the Villa and spent the rest of the afternoon napping, reading and playing card games. The place definitely induces the relaxation instinct.

A picture of our trusty little car...

And a gorgeous view of the Santorini sunset, with our villa in the foreground. What a day!

2007-04-10T14:30:00.000-07:00

Day 5- Wandering the Santorini Crescent

The beautiful island of Santorini sits at the southern end of the Cyclades, a group of islands just south of Greece. Once upon a time, it was almost perfectly circular, but then a volcano erupted and blew a large portion of it underwater, leaving in place a spectacular crescent-shaped island crowned by tall, rocky cliffs showing off streaks of sedimentary layers like mocha swirl.

Our home away from home, the Villa Iantha, sits almost in the middle of the crescent high on the cliff above the bay facing the caldera. Somehow, we were booked in this incredible place which costs a third of what it costs in the normal high season. It has 2 bedrooms, a small sitting room and kitchenette and... it's own pool facing the sea. Yes. Totally ridiculous.

Jack and I took a brisk walk in the morning to an amazing bakery down the street, lured by the piles of breads and pastries overflowing from their baskets, oozing with the aromas of butter and yeast. Somehow, neither one of us had thought to bring any euros, and in the end, returned empty handed, sans breakfast. Emily and Jason laughed good naturedly, albeit hungrily, and we all hopped in the car and drove down, this time able to walk away with several of the pillowy sugared donuts and puffy breads. Fueled for the day, we were on our way.

First stop, a winery that we drove by which we made Jason make an illegal turn for to visit. Here is the view from the outside patio... the wine was decent, but we had a good time chatting with the Russian winemaker.

Next stop, the amazing red rock beach and cliffs above Perissa. The woman that Emily is taking a picture of is actually a UC Berkeley grad who was traveling by herself through the island on an ATV. Go Bears!

The rocks were all shades of burnt caramels and sienas, the water, frigid.

Lunch was at Melina's, an awesome, beachside, open-air cafe that served what we all considered to be our best meal since coming to Greece. Fried sardines, anchovies, and small mackeral with a side of fried Santorini tomatoes and grilled aubergine with garlic.

After lunch, we headed to ancient Thira, a town high above the black sand beaches of Kamari, accesible only by a narrow, gravelly, switchback road, which Jason navigated in our rented stick shift. But when we got there, it was closed! We saw a German couple who had managed the crazy road on a scooter, and were thoroughly impressed by their "it was no big deal" attitude. We decided to return the following morning. On to Ia, reputed to be the most beautiful village in all of Greece, and we arrived just in time for a sunset. There was a fantastic, little bookstore on the main cobblestoned pathway, interestingly enough opened up by a young american guy who was, ironically, moving to Oakland to teach with the Oakland Teaching Fellowship. Small world!

So most pictures you see of the Greek islands are probably taken in Ia. The incredible views made us feel like talented photographers! But I'm sure everyone else has the exact same pictures.

Jack, Emily and Jason, sitting at Kastro, the cafe from where we viewed the famous Ia sunset.

A great dinner back in Fira, the main village in Santorini at a family owned tavern called Nikolaus, and then, Loukamadoupolis! We'd passed this little shop earlier in the day, enticed by the towering pile of the loukoumades in the featured picture in the window, little balls of fried, doughy joy, drizzled in honey. The anticipation of these yummy delights made me and Emily especially excited, as you can tell from this picture. The owner of the shop made them fresh for us and seemed amused by our enthusiasm and also by the number of pictures Jack took of him as he made them.

A perfect way to end a fun filled, good food day.

2007-04-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

Day 4- Mykonos to Santorini

Our last morning in Mykonos, we decided to head to a village outside of the main town Hora, called Ano Mera. The guide book and our host at the hotel told us that it was a beautiful traditional place to visit with a centuries old monastery and a quaint main square. When we got there at 9 in the morning, the town was barely awake, with a few older men smoking cigarettes in the cafe. It was lovely indeed, but by 10, we were ready to go, so we headed back to Hora and enjoyed getting lost yet again in the narrow streets... Jason, Emily and Jack checking out the map and trying to figure out the route we had just taken. This picture is not posed at all.

It was a blue day at the waterfront and we spent the morning getting some last shots of the gorgeous island.

We grabbed one last gyro at the best gyro place in Mykonos (we did sample a few) and then bid goodbye to our host (who strangely enough had once lived in Orinda) as he dropped us off at the port to catch the Flying Cat 4, a sleek, motorized catamaran destined for Santorini.

4 hours later, we'd checked into the Villa Iantha at the Hotel Volcano View Villas, and after a 15 minute debriefing by our host Niko, a hilarious Canadian Greek, we walked over to the nearby Santos winery, and had a 12 wine tasting with cheese and olives as we watched the sun set over the caldera (the volcano crater).

A pleasant dinner at Tavern Pyrgos in a nearby town, and then back to our beautiful villa with the beautiful night view...

2007-04-08T13:46:00.000-07:00

Day 3- Easter Sunday

We had a nice, relaxing morning today, sleeping in until 12 noon, due to our late night previously. As I woke up, I could hear the church bells in the distance ringing joyfully, announcing to the world that "Christ is Risen!" Since we missed breakfast at the hotel, we wandered out into the beautiful afternoon, and found ourselves a nice brunch at one of the many welcoming cafes along the waterfront. Afterwards, we remembered an adorable pastry shop that we had stumbled upon the night before, and made our way over for some post lunch goodies. The owner happily put together a box of his delicious treats- baklava of all sorts and shapes, accented by a piece of jellied fruit or nuts, then drizzled in honey.

With our box of goodies in hand, we settled quietly into the lovely patio at the Porto Mykonos, the hotel that we had visited the night before and admired the incredible view of the glistening bay...

Not much was open in town today due to Easter, so we took the relaxation a step further and spent the afternoon reading and planning our agenda for the coming days. Near sunset, we headed out again, this time over to the water front near Little Venice, where this picturesque church caught our attention.

Dinner brought us to the doorstep of Niko's Tavern, a quaint space with less than friendly service, serving authentic Greek food. We weren't exactly hungry, but we did sample the ouzo, a strong anise flavored liquor, and a bottle of the traditional resin wine, which tasted like Pine Sol to us. Dinner took a humorous turn when these pelicans, one of whom is named Petros, wandered into the restaurant, looking around and checking out the customers. Noone seemed fazed at all, so we can only assume that they're regulars.

We called it a night and headed back to the hotel at 9pm, deciding to spend a quiet evening in playing card games. At 10:30 pm, Emily suddenly pointed out the window, and we turned in surprise to see some serious fireworks. Our hotel had a fantastic vantage point to see the show, and some of the other guests, as well as our hosts joined us outside on the veranda. In Greece, as we were told by our host, celebrating Easter is like Americans celebrating New Years Eve, and the activities that last through the holy weekend and even beyond are full of joy and tradition. What a special honor to be here in such a time of profound sanctity and intense emotion.

2007-04-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

Day 2- Good Friday and Easter Saturday in Mykonos

Upon arriving in Mykonos, we were met by the driver for Hotel Adonis, our home base for the next few days. He navigated the narrow winding streets with amazing acuity, dodging pedestrians, mopeds and other assorted small children and we found ourselves at a charming hotel above the town center, overlooking the ocean. Our rooms are clean and comfy, and as soon as we settled in, we made our way out again in search of lunch.

We found a beautiful sea front restaurant perched in a quiet corner right on the water beneath the famed Mykonian windmills, and had our first true Greek meal of Greek salad, tatzikis (a yummy yogurt bread spread), grilled veggies, grilled calamari and a small grilled fish that had unusually sharp and vicious looking front teeth. Weary from the past few days of travel, we headed back to the hotel for a Greek siesta and woke up refreshed 2 hours later, ready to explore town.
Wandering the cobblestone, pedestrian streets of Hora is truly a Greek island experience, as we twist through the narrow lanes, lined by whitewashed houses with bright blue shutters, leading to a deep blue ocean set against a perfect blue sky. We're in Greece!

There was the hum of excitement in the air as the sun set, and the town readied itself for the Easter weekend. The festivities began at around 8 pm by the waterfront, where the promenade filled with locals and tourists alike, clutching long, thin candles. From the cathedral, a procession marched through the streets, led by the "tomb" of Christ, as everyone made their way outside into the darkness, blowing out their candles. It was somewhat of a somber tradition, as the joyful part of Easter woudln't happen until the next evening when Christ has risen. For dinner, we found ourselves at an adorable little Italian eatery tucked away on a quiet side street. Although we finished dinner at around 11pm, the streets were just beginning to fill up with party revelers. Techno music blasted from several bars and many of the chic boutiques were still open to customers. We observed the atmosphere with a few scoops of delicious homemade ice cream from a local gelateria and then headed home for the night.

This morning, we woke up bright and early for breakfast at 9 am, before heading down to the port to catch a short ferry ride to the small island of Delos, also known as the birthplace of Apollo. The island is rich in ancient Greek culture, and outlined ruins of the ancient city are part of the draw of this amazing archeological site. Because the place is considered one of the holiest sanctuaries for the Greeks, there are some strict rules to abide by, for instance, no visitors are allowed to stay overnight, and no one is allowed to be born, or to die on the island. I wonder how they enforce that. We wandered through the gravel pathways, overgrown with colorful wildflowers, as we passed ruins with labels such as, "House of Dionysus," "Sanctuary of Aphrodite," "Temple of Apollo," and a curious set of stone lions facing east in an eternal roar, greeting the rising of the sun each morning. The small museum on the island housed an interesting collection of headless bodies, bodiless heads, and other assorted artifacts collected from the island.

Famished upon our return to Mykonos, we wandered into a quaint part of town called "Little Venice" for the buildings that overhang the water, and each ordered a pork gyro which was so delicious that it made us giddy with happiness.

At 3 pm, once again, we wandered back to the hotel for our siesta, knowing well that it was going to be a late night. Dusk found us wandering around in town again, in search of a restaurant that still had reservations open for the Easter dinner, which was to be served at midnight. We found a spot at a spacious garden restaurant called Phillipi's, made the reservation, then wandered again in search of a snack to tie us over for the next 5 hours.

A few doors down around the corner, a small taverna caught our eye, mainly because when we peeked in, we saw mostly older Greek men sitting around the bar, laughing heartily and smoking cigarettes. Must be where the locals hang out! We stepped in and enjoyed a few small plates of fried mushrooms and garlic, Mykonian rusk (a grilled, crispy bread) with local cheese and fresh tomatoes drizzled in olive oil, and zuccinni balls, along with a carafe of a very drinkable house red wine. Satiated just enough, we decided to walk to the otherside of the waterfront where we had seen lights the night before, and after climbing a welcoming set of stairs up from the busy car road, we were greeted by the sight of a beauitful hotel with an amazing night view of the entire bay. The quiet serenity of the patio and the warm glow emanating from the windows of the luxurious white washed buildings surrounded us in a momentary cocoon of comfort as we observed the electricity of the town below from a bird's eye view. Every so often, the quiet was broken by the firecrackers being set off in anticipation of Easter midnight.
Easter in Mykonos is truly an amazing experience. On our way back to town, we picked up a few candles and followed the crowds to the cathedral, where we waited a full hour amidst the throngs, listening to the chants and liturgy of the clergy. At 10 minutes to midnight, a candle was lit, and the light was passed from the priest to a waiting child in front of him, and soon, the entire crowd was holding glowing flames, trying carefully not to drip wax on clothing or catch a stranger's hair on fire. At midnight, a boy rang the church bells and another boy threw confetti of flower petals from the bell tower, as the crowd made it's way to the surrounding restaurants for the much anticipated dinner of roasted lamb and other traditional foods.

Unlike other Easter meals I've had in the U.S. or in Europe, Greek Easter, or at least Mykonian Easter means party time. The quaint, quiet restaurant that we had booked our meal at just a few hours earlier was suddenly a thriving, throbbing night scene, blasting Shakira dance music into the streets. We sat down at our lovely little table and found a red dyed egg on our plates next to a sweet, spicy bread. Striving to pace ourselves for the ensuing 10 course meal, we nibbled gently, knowing full well that course #9 would be the roasted lamb. It was a fun and festive evening and I was amazed to see the small children at the table next to ours full of energy still, hours after they would normally be in bed. We left the restaurant at 3 am and rolled ourselves back to our hotel, bellies bloated and eyes tired from too much wine, too much sun, too much smoke and too much laughing. As I look at my clock now, I see that it is already 4:15am, (I didn't want to sleep on a full stomach) (althouh it doesn't seem to be bothering Jack at all). Alas, it is definitely time to rest this weary head. Happy Easter!

2007-04-06T17:35:00.000-07:00

Day 1- Good Friday

Yassas from Greece! We finally made it over here to the land of ancient philosophers, classical architecture and the pythagoream theorem. But we're actually here to do a little island hopping. The trip started with Jay and Emily dropping me off at SFO to meet Jack, who was flying down from Seattle. No sign of him yet when I got to the terminal, so I got in line at British Airways, and waited my turn. Just as I was called to the desk, Jack appeared in the nick of time, so we were able to get seats together for our 10 hour flight to London Heathrow, where we would have an hour and a half layover before connecting onwards to Athens.

The first half of the flight was comfortable, despite the fact that my seat was in the middle of the middle, no one sat on the other side of me so it was quite spacious. Just as we were nearing our 4th hour on the flight, the captain announced that we would be making an emergency landing because a passenger on board was seriously ill and required immediate medical attention. We never found out what actually happened, but our plane was delayed 2 hours in Winnipeg due to the incident, and we missed our connection.

No problem; when we got to Heathrow, British Airways had already confirmed us on the next flight to Athens that evening, which was really great because we had to catch a ferry the next morning at 7:45 AM! The flight didn't leave until 8:55pm, and since it was only 2 in the afternoon, what to do? We wandered through the duty free shops reeking of men's cologne, wound our way past harried travelers amidst the extraordinary number of men's clothiers selling pressed pink striped button down shirts, and stumbled upon... an urban oasis.

Ok, so it was actually called Urban Retreat Day Spa. Heck, why not? We were already groggy and tired and a little stressed from missing our connection, a little R & R wouldn't hurt. Gotta keep the skin moisturized, right? Since we didn't know the dollar to british pound conversion rate, we only had a vague idea of how much the services actually cost, which is probably better anyways. I signed up for "The Long Haul," a massage and an express facial, while Jack got "The Short Haul," a 30 minute back rub and express facial, plus a haircut. Since we were both getting services, we were able to hang out in the spa lounge the entire afternoon, taking advantage of the peaceful atmosphere and intense massage chairs, above the hum and din of one of the world's busiest airports.

By 6pm, we were ready for dinner and since we were given a pair of 10 BP vouchers to an airport eatery courtesy of British Airways for our inconvenience, we made our way over to Est Cafe, and had a light Italian supper of thin crust pizza margherite and spaghetti and meatballs, washed down by european beer. We had plenty of time to catch our flight by which time the excitement of travel was overcome by the exhaustion of travel and I conked out for a good 2 hours, awaking only to eat the strange meal of meat and tomatoes that appeared before me.

We arrived in Athens at 2:45 AM on April 6, where we breezed through customs and baggage claim in a good 8 minutes, and were promptly met by a representative of Fantasy Travel, the agency that booked our hotels, transportation, and transfers. Emily and Jason had arrived about an hour before us and were already resting at the Hotel Herodian, our home in old town Athens, a stones throw from the Acropolis. For some reason we were wide awake when we got to the hotel, and only slept about an hour and a half before our wake up call rang, allowing us a half hour's time to pack up and check out before breakfast. And as we were checking out, who should stroll happily into the lobby after their early morning walk around block, than Emily and Jason! Together at last!

We voraciously devoured a delicious breakfast (included with the hotel) of eggs, really thick Greek yogurt drizzled with honey, fruit, loukamades (round pieces of deep fried dough drizzled in honey) and assorted breakfast cheeses and breads. At exactly 7:45 AM, our ferry port transfer picked us up and dropped us off at our gigantic ferry, it seriously looks like the Borg, (we're being assimilated... ahh!) and now we are en route to Mykonos for Easter!

The entire ride is about 4 hours. The first hour blew by as we taught Jay and Emily how to play Eygptian Rat Screw (a fun filled card game that has nothing to do with Eygpt, rats or screwing). Jason won both games... beginner's luck. We have about 2 hours left and all four of us are falling into a slightly hazy drowsiness. Looking forward to SLEEPING!

2007-01-28T13:33:00.000-08:00

Habitat for Humanity Trip, January 21-26, 2007: Slidell, Louisiana, Katrina Relief
When Hurricane Katrina touched ground in the Southeastern United States over a year and a half ago, we pledged to ourselves that somehow, in the near future, we would commit our time and energy to relief efforts in the devastated regions. Through our church, First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, we hooked up with a Habitat for Humanity affiliate that was coordinating teams to send out to Louisiana in ongoing efforts to build homes and stabilize communities in the hard hit areas.

We were excited by the idea of giving ourselves, of putting our bodies to actual physical labor that would directly benefit a family and neighborhood. A note of apprehension developed, however, as I filled out the Skill and Labor assessment sheet. We were supposed to rank our skill level for a full page list of skills necessary for building a home, with 1 being "no skill," and 4 being "expert." Electrical wiring? Definite 1. Plumbing? Another 1. Drywall installation, roofing, operation of heavy machinery or concrete pouring? All 1s. After submitting a full page of 1s, with the exception of a 2 next to "Painting," I began to wonder how much use I would be and exactly what type of work I could actually be a part of. But still, we went, trusting that somehow, someway, God would be able to use our hands and hearts in a way that would be essential in doing His work. We took off 5 days from work and arrived in New Orleans on January 21.

Here is Jack at the morning circle, where we socialized with the other volunteers around a large pot of Starbucks coffee and awaited our words of inspiration and assignments for the day.

After we received our assignments, we drove with our team out to our work site. Here we are, arriving at Lacombe, a small neighborhood that is being built up by Habitat.

The area is at sea level, so it easily becomes a muddy swamp with a little rain, as you can see. This is to be the site of an actual home.

Since it rained so much the first day, we were put to work painting! Yay! The one thing that I know how to do!When the weather let up a little bit on the second day, we ventured out to try our hands at other projects, and learned how to install fiberglass insulation. This was pretty hard work- at the end of the day, you feel like you have little pieces of glass stuck in your skin and the insulation stuff smells really terrible.On the morning of our third day, we participated in a wall-raising celebration, where the family of one of the houses that we had been working on joined us as we wote blessings and well-wishes on the frame of the house. This house in particular is being finished for a family of 9!Afterwards, we went to work on the framing of another house across the street. This is Gary, a volunteer that we met who is part of the Care-a-Vanners, an amazing group of retired people who travel the country in their kick-ass RVs, spending several weeks at different Habitat for Humanity worksites and volunteering their time. Gary was new to the group, but seemed like he had been in construction all his life. I followed him around like a lost puppy dog all morning, as he taught me the differences between upright studs and cripple studs, how to position my body to get the most out of a swing with the hammer into a piece of solid pine, and, my favorite thing of all, how to use the circular saw! At the end of the morning, I asked him how long he'd been in construction, and he replied, "Well, only just a week! Before this, I was a dentist for 33 years!" He was so incredibly patient with me as he watched me take 42 hits with my hammer at a single nail (I know he was counting) when he could have easily finished the job in 4 swings. Here is Jack in a box. Actually, more accurately, here is Jack framed by a frame he framed.We managed to take part of the afternoon off on the third day to take a tour of New Orleans and the devastated areas. What an eye opener! In many of the towns, it seems as if the Hurricane struck yesterday- so much recovery is yet to be done. We drove by rows and rows of houses that looked as if they had been snapped in half... some of them had their porches float a few feet away from the actual house itself. Many of the homes had been mucked out, meaning that they had been completely gutted of anything that had been in contact with the water and oil which had flooded into them after the storm. The damaged neighborhoods were sad, oddly empty of the lives that had once filled them. Over 2/3 of the area population still has not returned after being displaced by the hurricane.Afterwards, we headed towards the French Quarter, to soak in the essence of New Orleans. Here is my first view of the Mississippi River... ever!And of course, we had to make a stop by Cafe du Monde for a sampling of their pillowy beignets and chicory coffee. Yum!By the next day, we were back to work, and since it was such a beautiful day, we got started on building a form, which is the wooden mold for the concrete that will eventually be poured for the foundation of the house. We arrived in the morning to find a beautiful plot of empty land, and got straight to work. Jack was the sledgehammer man and worked muscles that day that he hadn't felt in years. My job was to make sure that all of the pieces were level to the ground and to the measurements. It's actually a really stressful job because everything has to be just right.

But by the end of the day, we were about 2/3 of the way done!Our last day on the site was a monumental one for me because I was the chop saw girl! What a fun tool to use! And I even got to wear these uber fashionable safety glasses.

And here's our faithful crew of incredibly hard workers... Jack and Cindy from our team taking a much neaded gatorade and coffee break with Kel and Mel, two genuine and fun loving guys from the Care-A-Vanners group.And then it was over. We hung up our hammers and folded up our work aprons. We bid farewell to the Care-A-Vanners and the rest of our team and boarded a plane for home.
So in the end, what did I take back from my experiences in Slidell?

God can use anybody to do His work. ANYBODY. Even me, as a construction worker. That almost sounds like an oxymoron.
He has a plan. I know that many people, myself included, wonder about the purpose of a natural disaster, especially after seeing the vastness of the devastation and witnessing the destruction of so many lives. But after spending a week with an amazing group of volunteers who came together from all over the country to give their time, their love and their muscles to rebuilding a torn community, I'm encouraged that something good can come out of anything that seems bad.
One of the things that struck me everyday as we encountered the residents of Louisiana, was how thankful they were to have us there. Multiple times we were approached by the people of the community, some of them actual homeowners, some of them random people passing by, who expressed their gratitude to us for being there. Perhaps some of them felt compelled to say something as we walked into a Starbucks splattered with paint and saw dust! One man who is moving into a house built by Habitat next week encouraged us to go back to our own homes and to tell the story to our own communities because it has been a year and half since the hurricane and he felt like the country is beginning to forget about the people. But we can't forget. Rebuilding will take at least another 10-20 years.
Jack and I have decided that when we're retired, we're going to travel the country in an RV and build homes for people who need them. How cool is that??