angiedarren's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries

angiedarren's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries TravelStream™ news feed for member angiedarren on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/angiedarren en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:44:06 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com On a mission in the hills — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189782720/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189782720/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189782720/tpod.html Sun, 16 Sep 2007 09:44:06 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

The anniversary of 9/11 pretty much passed me by. I thought I would see and hear more references to it, but I only talked about it over lunch with my colleague Michele. Then I realised that I didn't watch TV (I haven't watched it at all my time here) and found out if I had, I would obviously have seen a lot of programming dedicated to it, including repeats of news coverage from six years ago. I got up stupidly early to get into office at 7.30am for a conference call with the UK. I'd been given the keys to the building and opened up the shutters and the front door. As I entered I could hear the timer from the alarm system buzzing. No one mentioned an alarm! I looked around not knowing what to do. As I had come in the building, a couple were getting into a car outside. They had smiled and were just about to set off, but saw that I didn't have the code. The woman ran in, I think she was a cleaner, and showed me the code off her key fob. She didn't speak English. I didn't even know where the control panel was. She pointed wildly in the direction of the stairwell. I was quite panicky by now and just as I reached the panel the alarm started to go off - that deafening all encompassing sound that means you can't think straight. I couldn't concentrate to read the instructions on the panel and I gesticulated wildly back to ask for her help. She ran over, deactivated the alarm and peace descended on us. I tried to express how grateful I was. The timing was so lucky. A few moments later and they would have driven off and I would have been standing there helpless with the alarm going off waking the neighbourhood, waiting for the police to arrive. Because I'd come in so early, I left the office early to fit in more sightseeing. I headed to the Mission District, the oldest settled part of the city. However, most of the buildings were destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. Now it is the Latin American neighbourhood with a shed-load of Mexican restaurants and lots of good bars. It's quite a rough area but attracts artists and is up and coming with trendy young professionals. I was here to see the murals which cover many of Mission's alleyways, houses and walls. But first I stopped at a taqueria (Mexican fast-food joint) for lunch. The murals were in a huge range of styles, mostly along political or social themes, but there were some great fantasy scenes as well.  When I'd got my fill of public art spotting, I got the bus to nearby Potrero Hill. This is a genteel and much quieter neighbourhood sitting atop a steep hill. I was going to find Vermont Street (see gallery) and its hairpin bends. I got off the bus and needed to get one block across and one block along. I could have gone straight ahead and then left for a block, or turned left straight away and then right for a block (2 sides of the same square). On the map both routes looked identical. I chose the former and set off up a steep hill, puffing to the top, to turn left <i>down an even steeper hill, ending up at about the same level as when I started! It's easy to choose the wrong route in this city. If I'd gone the other way it was virtually flat for both blocks. I ascended Vermont Street by its flights of steps and walked through residential streets over the top of the hill to see the view of downtown from the other side. This was one of the top 5 viewpoints in the city according to my guidebook, but I wasn't that impressed as it was marred by overhead cables and telephone wires. I think I've been to too many stunning hilltop vistas and am getting complacent. Back in Mission I ate dinner at a Caribbean tapas restaurant.  The next day I went to visit the impressive Grace Cathedral after work (see photo). There was a world music concert happening that evening and while I wandered around they were setting up, sound checking their instruments and voices. Tabla sounds great in an echoey cathedral. In the grounds there is a labyrinth and I watched a couple of new agers slowly walking its twisting path, contemplating life (or more likely what they were having for dinner). Some really steep streets lead down from the cathedral towards my hotel and I spent a while watching the cars going up and down. I'm fascinated by the topography of this city. The following evening, I dined at a Moroccan restaurant. It had all the gear - low tables with cushioned seating and stools, hookah pipes, ornate arches, indoor water features, intricate metal lanterns, orange blossom water poured into a silver basin to wash your hands before and after you eat, and a belly dancing show. I sat two tables along from an English girl and we ended up joining each other for dinner. Amy had graduated from Durham this summer was on holiday with her family in the States, before going travelling to Central & South America on her 'second gap year' (she took one before her degree as well). She had also just finished a TEFAL course, with EmbassyCES (the language school I am working at), in Cambridge. Small world! On her return from travelling she is going to Japan to be an English teacher. I wish I had such exciting plans when I was 22. It was interesting because she asked me 'What do you want to do?' It took me my surprise because no-one has asked me that for years. At some point it changed to 'what do you do?' It was good to think about the answer to her question though. As president of her University's Belly Dancing Society she was up and shakin her thang as soon as the invite to join the dancer was thrown open to the restaurant's female customers. I had a bit of a tussle with an enthusiastic waiter but remained firmly seated! On my last day at work I sat in on an English Language class. It's something I'd wanted to do for a while because language teaching is a core part of the courses I promote to international students at work, but I have never actually experienced one. The students were intermediate level and had a test in that class. I took it too. It was really interesting to see what grammar they were struggling with, what they were having difficulty pronouncing, and equally how good their vocabulary was. Plus, I learnt what a preposition is! For lunch I got pizza. I would say in the UK, pizza sizes are usually 7-9" small, 9-12" medium, and 12-15" large. In the US, 12" is small and large is 18"! On my last evening I went out for drinks with Michele, and Sarah who works in the office at the school. She took us for happy hour cocktails at a little bar a few blocks from the school... in an area that has a lot of transvestites. Wow - amazing people watching! One girl had lipstick so exaggerated that it was literally right up to her nose. Sarah, who lives just up the road, told us the 'lip liner queen' is well-known by residents. After a few rounds, Sarah and I carried on to dinner at a Thai restaurant and then walked around looking for a bar towards Union Square, where all the designer shops and big department stores are, and China Town. In our wanderings I got to see some more of the city. After one more drink in a nice locals' haunt, I reluctantly called it a night. I hadn't yet packed and had a reasonably early pick up to the airport the next day. I felt melancholy about leaving as I walked back to the hotel. It feels like it's been an eventful two weeks. 
]]> Park life — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189316520/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189316520/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189316520/tpod.html Sat, 15 Sep 2007 03:10:58 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

I woke up with the worst hangover I've had in a long time. I was so tempted to turn off my alarm clock and collapse back to sleep, but I knew that it would be worth it if I could Just. Drag. Myself. Out. Of. Bed.I was going to the 9am mass at Glide, a Methodist church across from my hotel, to hear the gospel choir - something I've always wanted to experience. My guidebook said it was a progressive church that preached social justice and did work with area's homeless, so this was another reason to go as I wanted to donate to that cause. I shakily got myself ready and stopped at my friend the concierge to check the details. Just as I was heading off he said 'oh, there's an 11am mass too that's much more popular'. Hallelujah. After an hour and a half more rest I felt ten times better although still pretty fuzzy. On the way to the church I bought breakfast - twice. Speaking to Wendy on Friday, she told me that she gets her leftover food wrapped to go at restaurants and gives it to a homeless person. I'd seen someone else do this earlier in the week. The problem is, with my appetite, leftovers are rare! So instead I got an extra portion.  Another suggestion of Wendy's was to buy Street Sheet (equivalent of The Big Issue). It happened to be the 20th anniversary of the publishers - The Coalition on Homelessness. Reading the editorial gave me a better overview of the reasons behind the problem (lack of affordable housing being the main one) and the shameful exploitation of the homeless for political gain in mayoral campaigns. Each mayor promises to solve the problem with radical solutions or tough measures. A recent scandal involved a sensational newspaper article about the problem of street sleepers in Golden Gate Park, which resulted in a crack-down including 3am raids during which police confiscated people's possessions. Huh? How can taking away the last personal items of someone who has no home be justified?I arrived at Glide 20 minutes before the service to an already full house. Either side of the aisle they'd put in extra chairs so I bagged one of these about halfway back. The congregation was really mixed; people from all walks of life, old and young, different nationalities. I was trying to work out where and when I could donate money, and for some reason was concerned that I would miss the opportunity or wouldn't know who to give it to. How naive am I?!There was a 5-piece band already stationed to the side of the stage and they played as the choir filed on - 50 strong - to rapturous applause. They choir started singing and everyone jumped up off their seats, clapping and dancing. Uh-oh, maybe I wasn't going to like this. But the music was upbeat and infectious, so I bobbed along self-consciously trying to get into the swing of it. The congregation was welcomed and asked who was there for the first time - about 25% put their hand up and the rest roared their approval. We were told that the church welcomed everyone, whatever their faith, race, sexual orientation or economic situation. Then everyone held hands and swayed while the band played. Eek.  There was another 2 or 3 songs from choir, each one featuring a different solo vocalist, all with the most amazingly powerful voices. It was very moving. I was just starting to feel a lump in my throat when the usher started walking up and down the centre aisle holding out a box of tissues (and continued to do this throughout the service). Quite a few people took one but I was too British to admit I had tears in my eyes. The first sermon was about the concept of home which led nicely into the money raising spiel. Glide give out over a million meals a year as well as free medical care and all sorts of other services from life skills to drug counselling. I doubled my donation which was already quite generous and dropped it into the fast filling collection box. It really gave me an insight into the power that the evangelical churches must have to raise huge amounts of money from the congregation. I knew that I was being a little rash to give that much but I felt an irresistible urge. Maybe I was being brainwashed! There was also a sales pitch for Glide merchandise - a sweater and baseball cap modelled by an overtly camp member of the choir. The crowd showed him a lot of appreciation! After the next song, everyone was asked to hug those standing near them. It when on and on - some people moving on to the next aisle which I thought was quite unnecessary. I did the minimum acceptable, hugging my two immediate neighbours, and then stared straight ahead waiting for it all to be over! The second sermon was about acting with love - including sexual love, more cheers of approval - rather than just talking about it. The service finished with everyone repeating:Amen.Hallelujah.Right On.Shalom.Salaam.Namaste. There was not one word read from the bible, but I heard the words peace, love and community used many times. It was more like going to a concert than to church. I felt refreshed and very grateful to have experienced it. My next destination was Golden Gate Park. On the way to the bus stop my aim was to give away the breakfast to someone who needed it more than me. I didn't want to choose a particular person, because that would involve not choosing others, but I had decided that I wanted to give it to a woman. I was worried that I would offend someone if I offered it when they asked for money, or that they would laugh at my pathetic attempt to help. The change for me was so strange because suddenly I was actively looking for people living on the streets rather than pretending not to see them. The first and only person to approach me was a thin woman in her mid 20s in a wheelchair. I caught her eye but didn't say anything because I wasn't certain. She approached me and said 'can you help me get something to eat, I'm hungry'. I got the food out of my bag and handed it to her. I was so glad that I was able to do that small thing and not just shake my head and walk past. Since then, I've made a habit of carrying food on me, and I try to smile rather than avoiding people's eyes on the street. In return for that small courtesy I have had many a 'good morning' and been told twice that I have a nice smile. Golden Gate Park is beautiful and peaceful: just the antidote to last night's excesses. I spent most of the afternoon there, starting at the bison paddock and walking through the park past lakes, a waterfall, wild flowers, rose gardens and woodland. I had lunch and saw an art exhibition at the De Young, one of a cluster of museums in the park. As I went into the gallery shop a free jazz concert was about the begin, but I spent so long shopping that by the time I left a huge round of applause signalled the end of the performance just as I wanted to sit and watch for a while. That was the first of a string of bad timing. I missed last entry at the conservatory of flowers (tropical house) because I got sidetracked on the way by the dancing rollerbladers. Then I went to find the free outdoor Opera performance and that was being packed away, the odd empty champagne bottle and discarded picnic rug taunting me. But I did get to see an impromptu drumming session instead (see video).  I had some extra time on my hands, so went up Haight Street to another park, Buena Vista, for views of the city. On the way I was passing the café I ate at on Labour Day, and guess who I saw? My favourite freak: the almost naked, shouty one. This time he was fully clothed and wearing a leopard skin hat with blue fur around the huge brim. He looked a lot happier. Yeh! As the sun was setting I travelled into the Financial District to see the skyscrapers close up. The evening light reflected off the new mirrored tower blocks and highlighted the architectural details of the older buildings. It made the deserted area rather atmospheric. I ate Vietnamese.
]]> Iconic SF — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189305660/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189305660/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189305660/tpod.html Thu, 13 Sep 2007 11:57:19 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

On Saturday morning, I tried to get a cable car but there was a replacement bus service part way. I felt sorry for the kids who looked so disappointed standing in the bus queue. When I did get on one of the famous vehicles, I had to sit inside in the boring section, and they weren't letting people hang off the sides like you see in the postcards at all.I got a bike from a hire shop called Blazing Saddles. In the US they use the term bicyclist. I can't work out how to pronounce it. It just sounds silly when I say it! Biking the Bridge is a very popular tourist activity and rightly so, it was great fun, but I was constantly seeing other cyclists with 'Blazing Saddles' branded handlebar bags. I didn't like the fact that everyone knew where I'd been and where I was going!It was hot when I set out from the hotel, but by the time I got the bike it was cloudy with a stiff breeze. I'd only cycled a few blocks when I realised I had to make the archetypal SF tourist purchase - warm clothes - as a result of coming out unprepared for the changes in weather. I emerged from the shop with a new pair of fluffy earmuffs.The ride along the waterfront to the bridge was pleasant, if rather chilly, along a cycle path that passed beaches, a marina, parks, reclaimed sand dunes, lagoons and a former airfield, shared with lots of other cyclists, joggers, dog walkers and strolling families. On the bridge there is a separate cycle path but the traffic still thunders past a few metres away in a constant stream. It's hard not to enjoy doing something as memorable as crossing the Golden Gate Bridge though. There were lots of tourists doing just that, much to the annoyance of the local bycicyclistists, by the looks on their faces, who were crossing the bridge to actually get somewhere.  On the other side the feel is completely different. Marin County is a headland crammed with view points, redwood stands, walking trails and waterfalls. It would have been nice to explore on foot a bit, but I had a fast-aaproaching appointment so I carried on, coasting downhill, enjoying the hot sunshine, towards my destination - Sausalito. This bayside town is a world away from The City; very quaint with villas covering the hillsides and boardwalks tracing the shore, but it is so touristy. I made the mistake of trying to purchase a birthday card and was immediately caught up in a seething crowd of holidaymakers buying souvenirs and ice lollies. Making a quick exit I headed for the ferry and joined the back of a long queue - a large proportion were pushing bikes. I was wondering how we'd all fit in but the whole lower deck is given over to bike stands. It's very well organised and you even get a ferry ticket when you hire your cycle.  It was a great journey back across the bay, with choppy waves glistening in the sun and boats bobbing about. The views are first of the Golden Gate Bridge, followed by the entire spread of the city along the north edge of the peninsula, a close-up of Alcatraz, after which the Financial District's skyscrapers come clearly into sight, and finally of SF's other bridge - the Bay Bridge. That's pretty much everything ticked off the list then! Running late, I cycled all the way along the Embarcadero (waterfront thoroughfare) to return the bike, got a bus back to my hotel, did a wonder woman change into my evening wear and flew out to get a taxi to a gallery opening in SoMa (South of Market). I was on a blind date, meeting a couple who I'd been put in contact with by a friend of Darren's (thanks Charlie!) Luckily they were running even later than me and weren't at the gallery when I arrived so I had the chance to catch my breath, look at the art and discover there was no free wine. Some of the paintings were beautifully detailed and when Tom and Katy arrived they infected me with their enthusiasm and knowledge of art. After pondering enough canvases, they took me for a cocktail in a nearby bar and I had a very interesting time discussing everything from Burning Man to immigration to reality TV.  My dinner destination that night was The Stinking Rose, a garlic restaurant. It's quite an infamous place as you can imagine. It's still a 'big thing' for residents to brave eating there apparently. I met the birthday girl Alissa and her friends for drinks first, and then we headed to eat. Walking in, the smell is pretty overpowering, but after a while you stop noticing it. The roof of the restaurant is decorated with the longest garlic braid in the world (348 feet). To begin, we got served bread with an extremely strong but moreish garlic pesto and after that everything else tasted mildly garlicky: my taste buds must have been knocked out by it! For dessert, the table shared garlic ice cream. Hehe! It was yummy. I got on a Margarita tip at the restaurant (I'd never actually had one before this summer - thanks for introducing me Jo! - so am still in my honeymoon period) and over the course of the meal we'd all got pretty rowdy, having sung/shouted a total of four rounds of Happy Birthday.  We headed off, vapour trails of garlic odour in tow, to the Tonga Rooms. I'd picked up over the course of the evening that this wasn't an 'ordinary' nightclub. No sireee! It was Hawaiian-themed, complete with a grass-roofed bar and seating around a pool. Tropical rainstorms were scheduled every half hour. It was so tacky it was good. After each downpour, a live band would travel up the length of the pool on a 'boat' (floating platform) towards the dancefloor, and play a lounge set with a tropical twist to the small crowd of dancing couples. We clearly weren't the usual clientele but we got right into the swing of things. As well as my blue Margarita, I was coerced into sharing the lava bowl (see photo) - a big bowl of sickly punch. I was taught how to play Waterfall: everyone starts drinking through straws out of the bowl at the same time and each person has to keep drinking longer than person before them, going round in a circle. It made me dizzy!As the drinks flowed the people I was with started to compliment my accent. I had the stereotypical idea that all Americans loved an English accent, but I hadn't had any comments either last visit to NY or here. But now I got told that it was very cute and that my voice was soothing!   When the Tonga Rooms was dying a slow death around 1am, a smaller group of us went on to another club. This was more like it - an intimate venue with a DJ playing good quality and classic house - and I danced my socks off. Got a shock when I went to buy a drink and was told they stopped serving alcohol at two. It's Californian Law apparently, but it's so early noughties! It was probably a good thing to switch to water in hindsight. At some point I realised everyone I had come with had left, but I'd got chatting to Eli, a friendly Pakistani guy who was shorter than me. He'd lived in Cambridge for 2 years. We hit the dance floor for what didn't seem that long a time, but it must have been. When I popped to the loo, I came back to an empty club with all the lights on. Reluctantly I realised it was probably time to go home.  Back at the hotel I set my alarm for 3 hours' time as I was getting up to go to church!
]]> The pratfall — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189191060/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189191060/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189191060/tpod.html Wed, 12 Sep 2007 06:37:07 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

There are some murals in Tenderloin that I wanted to see. I had hoped Peter would accompany me on Wednesday morning as we were travelling into the office together, but we ended up getting a taxi. So, on Thursday morning I steeled myself and set off to find them. It required me to walk a different way to work with a short detour, towards the centre of the 'loin.To be fair, I had worked myself up beforehand, but as soon as I turned off the main street I felt very uncomfortable. I was hoping it would be quiet at that time in the morning, but the street was busy with groups of homeless people sitting on the sidewalk, pan-handlers, and dodgy looking geezers who offered a 'hello baby'. On the corners, the rubbish bins smelt like toilets. I came to the first mural, took a hurried snap (see photo gallery) and looked down the block to where the next one should be. I completely lost my bottle and abandoned the whole thing, turning around to retrace my steps even though there was a shorter route back to the main road if I'd carried on. Better the devil you know.Back on the main street, things weren't much better, as I'd really freaked myself out. Again, nothing had actually <i>happened. As I got deeper into Tenderloin, I started to look ahead to see if I could spot any potential nutters on my side of the street and would cross the road if I could or walk along the edge of the road to avoid them. Nearing my office, I'd calmed down a little but was walking briskly to get through the area quickly. My attention was on a commotion happening across the street at a bus stop, when I tripped over a kerb and fell sprawling onto the pavement. The paper folder I was carrying went flying and I grazed my hand and toe. Of course, the few people standing nearby came to my aid and handed back my folder, asking if I was OK. Once I'd picked myself up, one homeless guy said to me 'Don't worry, I've done that many times!'I felt so ashamed that I'd been so worried about walking past anyone that looked down-and-out. In actual fact, I was the biggest danger to myself. I decided then that I needed to find a better way of dealing with life on the streets in this city.After work that day, Michele gave me a lift to the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA). I'm always interested in seeing photography at art galleries, especially portraits, but usually try to squeeze it in around the paintings. This time I decided my focus would be just on their acclaimed photography collection. It's enjoyable visiting a gallery alone because you can set your own pace and not have to think about whether anyone else wants to leave. I must do it more often! The main exhibition was the work of Martin Munkacsi, a Hungarian Jew working from the late 20s to the 50s. He photographed Hitler and Goebbels, as well as many film stars, models, sporting events and travel locations. He was one of the first photographers to use a modernist style, and his work was captivating.I popped into the MOMA gift shop to look for a postcard or two and ended up going on another shopping spree. What's got into me?! There were some really unusual and stylish things for sale. I even bought some Christmas presents (sorry to put that thought into your head).Michele and I ate at a smart seafood restaurant for lunch on Friday, with the slightly unappetising name of Crustacean! We placed our order but waited and waited for our food. Over 30 minutes had passed when I asked the waitress if we'd been forgotten and she replied no. In another 5 minutes, people who'd arrived long after us were served and I was just about to kick up a fuss when our food was delivered to the table by the head waiter who told us discreetly - 'the manager will take care of your bill'. We both assumed that meant a discount for having a long wait, but at the end of the meal we were told we could go without paying! No such thing as a free lunch, huh?I'd been angling throughout the day on Friday to get invited for drinks with some of the permanent school staff after work. I didn't fancy going straight back to my hotel. After some vague 'not sure what I'm doing' replies, I was beginning to get a bit paranoid, but it all came together last minute and I joined four other teachers and admin staff in a gay bar a short distance from the school. It was great to get to know them and to my delight I was invited out on Saturday night too for Alissa's birthday. It probably wasn't cool to be so keen, but my Saturday night diary was an empty void, so I jumped at the chance.I walked back to the hotel area with one of the teachers, Wendy. I talked to her about the homeless problem and asked how she felt, living with it all the time. She told me about the things she does to help and I was really glad to be able to discuss how I'd been feeling with someone.I ate dinner at a sushi bar. I got talking to a conservative, but friendly couple. They reminded me of Dougie and Jeanette from Shirley Valentine - the tedious couple who tried to take Shirley under their wing because she was single. Mind you, spending so much time alone in the evenings over the past week, I have almost started a conversation with the wall. Anyway, their daughter had just been chosen to be in the American version of 'What not to wear'. I didn't know whether to congratulate or commiserate them! The program's called 'What you should wear' over here. Doesn't have the same ring to it at all. I wonder if it's for cultural reasons, or legal.On the subject of versions of TV programmes in the States, Calvin told me about the format of Big Brother here. There's no audience participation. Apparently they tried initially to get viewers to vote, but hardly anyone did so they changed it. The winner of the task each week nominates two housemates and then the rest of the housemates vote for which one to evict. I think this is a far less interesting format because the contestants won't be playing up to the public, and it's less likely to have a heart-warming outcome like the British BB when the most down to earth and honest person usually wins (I said usually)!
]]> Bittersweet city — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189010340/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189010340/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189010340/tpod.html Wed, 12 Sep 2007 04:14:38 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

I'm staying in a Hilton which is lovely, but it has an unfortunate location on the outskirts of The Tenderloin. This is a rough and run down inner city area were the city's chronic homeless problem is highly visible. Tenderloin is sandwiched between other, nicer neighbourhoods but the transition zone is quite large and the districts overlap each other. For instance, to the north is the upmarket Nob Hill. The undefined inbetween area goes by the wonderful name of Tender Nob!The maps that the hotel give out to show attractions in the area and places to eat etc, get round the problem by locating the hotel in the bottom corner of the map. Roads that are visible to the west and south of the hotel (ie towards the centre of Tenderloin) are unmarked. They might as well put - 'look the other way please, there's nothing to see down there'.In my first few days walking to work and to the main thoroughfare, Market Street, to catch a bus etc, I got asked for money many times and saw homeless people stationed at pretty much every corner. On average, I've been seeing about three per block - often with shopping trolleys piled high with their possessions. There was one man sleeping in the middle of the pavement on a busy corner. Quite a few times I've seen people scavenging in bins. In alleyways there are mattresses and bedding (I use the word in the loosest sense of the word since you can't call paving slabs a bed) dotted along the length. I've seen people passed out and those doing drugs on the streets. The 'official' number of citizens without homes quoted in my guidebook is 12,000. That probably means many more in reality.It's really starting to get to me. It's not that anyone's threatened or done anything to me, I'm just so shocked by the number, and the fact that most of them look pretty scary and mad. On top of that, I've been seeing a significant number of people who seem to have homes, but fall into the category of 'loony' if you go by their choice of clothing/mumbling habits. Rudyard Kipling famously said in 1889 'San Francisco is a mad city - inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people'. Nothing much has changed then. On my way to the office on my first day of work, I stopped in a café and ordered a breakfast that came with ham, without the ham. I was asked if I wanted fruit instead and accepted. My plate arrived filled with scrambled egg, saute potatoes and melon chunks - all snuggling side by side! It was fine actually, but I got put off my food rather because there were hundreds of flies swarming around the alley right outside the window of the cafe. I couldn't help thinking someone had died there in the night.I spent the day working from one of my company's English Language schools, about 20 minutes walk from the hotel, with a manager, Peter, and 2 colleagues Michele and Calvin (who had been in the UK with me the previous week). The school is at the end of its summer program at the moment - lots of kids come from all over the world for two weeks to learn English in their summer holidays. Because there is a constant influx of new students, every Tuesday the academic director give a welcome talk in the main concourse. I overheard the first one. The kids get told 3 rules: 'Speak English', 'Make an effort' and 'Don't die'!After work, the four of us went out to an Italian restaurant for dinner. We'd been talking earlier about differences in American and British English ('pants' was the cause of much amusement) and when the waiter asked if our food was OK, I said 'lovely, thanks'. I'd never have thought that could be misunderstood, but Calvin explained that an American would only use that phrase in a sarcastic manner. I was a bit devastated, because I've been really enjoying the food here so have used it quite a lot!Peter and I went on for a drink in an Irish bar. They had Magners cider on tap. Joy. Why don't we have that in England?! We only stayed for one and then I went back to work on my laptop in my hotel room until midnight, a habit that continued all week..The next morning I had breakfast with Peter in a proper diner. It had glittery red plastic seats and photos of James Dean on the walls. We sat at the counter to eat. It was lovely. Sorry, I mean great.I've been eating a lot of vegan dishes since I've been here, and raw vegetables and salads. Normally, I would never consider ordering a salad in a restaurant because it seems a wasted opportunity to indulge a little, but the food is so fresh and tasty here that I've been tempted by them. The local/seasonal/organic trend is big in SF too. On Monday I had the best veggie-burger ever - and all it consisted of was a huge juicy portobello mushroom and other roasted veg in a bun - soooo tasty. On Wednesday evening I ate at a posh vegan restaurant called Millennium. It had a virtually incomprehensible menu, very similar to Terre-a-Terre in Brighton, but I managed to get the gist of a few dishes and placed my order. How they get such rich flavours out of vegan food is magical. Everything tasted sublime. However, I watched two homeless guys on the opposite street corner throughout my meal. I couldn't stop thinking about the contrast of what I can enjoy and what they have to endure. It left a bitter taste in my mouth.
]]> ...be sure to wear some flowers in your hair — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189232880/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189232880/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189232880/tpod.html Sat, 08 Sep 2007 12:31:04 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

I woke up a lot during my first night due to jetlag, meaning that I feel back to sleep most of the morning when I should have been getting up and sightseeing on my spare day. This was Labour Day - a public holiday - which I'd cunningly included at the start of my work trip! I finally arose just before 12 and after extracting exact instructions from the concierge on how much and how to pay, where to get on and off, and what to think on the journey, caught a bus to Alamo Square to see the Painted Ladies (see photo). On the way there I got a great view of City Hall, which is built in the same style as the Capitol, but with a taller central dome that is gilded. It glistened majestically in the sunlight.As I rounded the brow of the hill at the top of Alamo Square, a strong cold wind whipped across the park, making an otherwise hot day decidedly chilly. I'd heard about the notorious unpredictability of SF weather. Locals always carry a scarf in the summer to protect against the freezing fog that rolls in from the sea at any time. Never one to be far from my ear-muffs and gloves, I had come prepared. There was still a bright blue sky at this point, but within an hour a swirling mist had arrived. I've now found out that the wind signals the fog's arrival. Brrrr.Apart from the famous row of Painted Ladies, the area is absolutely heaving with gorgeous Queen-Anne style houses - rows of large Victorian buildings sporting corner turrets, oriel windows, gabled peaks, balconies, wrap-around porches, and intricate decorative details, all painted in pastel colours. I headed on to my main purpose for visiting this area - Haight Street. Following a walking tour around the Haight Ashbury district I saw lots of buildings that used to be somewhere very trippy and cool, and the still-running free healthcare clinic keeping the spirit alive. At the height of the summer of love, free food and lodging was there for the taking along this strip.Stopping outside the Grateful Dead's old house, I was staring up at it, trying to imagine what it must have been like when they lived there, when a man parked his car in the neighbouring driveway and got out. I felt a bit sheepish, as I thought the residents in this area must get really fed up of fans and tourists hanging about. But no, he didn't seem to be at all. He shouted out a jolly 'Yes... it is!' and then proceeded to tell me that they had lived next door in his house too. It was almost like he felt left out!  I ate lunch in a café sitting at a great people-watching table by the window. There sure were a lot of oddballs ambling past. Leaving, I narrowly avoided a guy who was a bit shouty, and naked apart from a shred of white material wrapped around his groin, his body covered in cuts. He would have looked like Jesus but he had a shaved head. When I came out of a shop ten minutes later he was sitting in the gutter getting arrested. Shame really, because he was the best freak I saw by far.I was planning to go on to Golden Gate Park after 'doing' Haight Street, but I ran out of time because I couldn't stop shopping! I'm not usually one for shopping anyway, let alone when I visit another country - I just see it as a waste of sightseeing time - but there is a huge choice of thrift and clothing exchange stores. I'm used to having to scour charity shop rails for something wearable, but here clothes I liked kept turning up everywhere I looked. I haven't bought any new outfits for a while, and once the floodgates were open I went a bit mad. The hypocrisy of my consumer frenzy during my hippy pilgrimage didn't pass me by.Finally emerging, slightly dazed, from my shopping-induced high, the afternoon was turning into evening and I was almost at the end of Haight Street. It reminded me a lot of Nimbin's main street (in Australia) but a larger, more frenetic, less self-conscious version. And just like Nimbin, it attracts darker characters and down-and-outs. Shortly after seeing the Summer of Love 40th anniversary poster (see photo), a bum offered me some of his summer of love, swaying his hips in his best provocative manner. I appreciated his reality check actually. For 39 years people have been coming here on the flower-powered bandwagon, but the free love and idealistic life has long gone. It was quite special to see where it all happened though. I ate dinner at an empty veggie Indian restaurant that did a wicked Mango Lassi and got the bus back to my hotel.
]]> If you're going to San Francisco... — San Francisco, California, United States http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189134840/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189134840/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189134840/tpod.html Sat, 08 Sep 2007 02:05:47 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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San Francisco, California, United States

I was up before 6, with a bit of a hangover from Jess's Moroccan BBQ/Mandy's birthday the night before.I caught a slightly earlier train than necessary to Gatwick because before checking in I had to visit Lost Property. In the South Terminal I could hardly enter the airport from the train station because it was so heaving with families setting off on holiday. With some nifty dodging of trolleys and overtaking of toddlers, I forced my way through to find the lost property office. I'd left my coat in the departure lounge when I last flew to Edinburgh a couple of weeks ago. To get it back I had to pay a £5 admin fee, which ironically was more than I'd paid for it in the first place from a charity shop!The first leg of my flight was 8 hours and luckily the plane was only a third full, so I got a spare seat next to me. I kept thinking though how inefficient it is that planes take off half empty. If that much carbon is going to be emitted, it should at least have been for the sake of transporting a full load of people. But then I wouldn't have been able to lie down. The journey was quite boring except for the fact that I had an argument with the air host. When he served the food, he had no veggie meal allocated for me, despite the fact that I ordered one when I booked the flight, and when I checked in. He was really off-hand about it when I explained that I'd requested one and told me - 'I've got chicken'. He didn't offer an alternative or say he'd check to see if they had spare meals. I protested and he repeated that he just had chicken. I asked what else he could do for me, as he wasn't offering solutions. 'All I've got is Chicken'. In the end I accepted what he termed 'a cold plate' which is basically the extra stuff you get with the main meal - bread roll, limp lettuce, shortbread biscuit etc. I had a bit of a turn when he handed it to me and threw the napkin on the floor in frustration. He didn't seem to notice. I ate it begrudgingly. When he came back 10 minutes later with the drinks, I couldn't let it lie. I said to him 'an apology would have been nice.' He coldly told me that he'd explained the situation to me. I repeated that I understand that mistakes happen, but an apology would be nice. There was no way he was going to say sorry to me and he carried on serving up the aisle. I shouted after him - 'Chicken's no good to me - why did you keep telling me you had chicken?'! At this point an air hostess intervened and asked me what had happened. I told her and pointed at the culprit. I felt like a child telling tales to the teacher. She nodded and went off for a bit, coming back after a few moments to say that he was her boss, so she couldn't say much while he was still there. She apologised for him, and said she'd see what she could do. Half an hour later I got a slice of hot veggie pizza that was cooked especially for me, by my nemesis. Ha! I even picked up the napkin.I had an uneventful 3.5 hour wait at Cincinnati, and boarded second shorter flight of 4 hours. At that length I assumed we'd get a meal, but in the States it's seen as a short haul flight, so I had to make do with snacks. That journey was much better though as I got to look out of the window at all the amazing landscapes we were passing over: city grids, thinning into towns with cultivated land in between, changing to huge plains covered in vast fields with only tiny settlements scattered miles apart, to desert, to mountain ranges and ski resorts, and finally huge stretches of vineyards in California. I took a lot of photos - 2 of which are in this entry's gallery.I arrived in San Francisco at 7pm after 17 hours of travelling. My taxi driver, surprisingly, was a young Brazilian girl. She was in San Francisco as a student, about to take her masters in Chemistry. We had a nice chat about her home country.As we approached the city, it all came back to me from the last time I made this journey, over 7 years ago - on the freeway, you come over a hill and downtown appears before you, the skyscrapers rising up from between the many hills.A colleague had warned me that although my hotel was nice, the area wasn't and I should be careful walking around nearby. I thought at the time that she was being a bit over-cautious, but as the taxi approached and the main components of the street were massage parlours and liquor stores, I began to feel that maybe she hadn't been exaggerating.I checked in to my very large room and chickened out of venturing out that night by booking a table at the hotel's restaurant. I had to wait an hour but then made my way up to the 49th floor and the restaurant entrance. Outside I notice a disclaimer, discreetly tucked behind a pillar, that said:'Notice to patrons: the food served in this restaurant may expose you to chemicals known to the State of California to cause cancer, birth defects, and other reproductive harm.' Gosh.Moving swiftly along, I took a seat at my table for one, which looked out over the city centre and financial district, lit up in the night, and in the distance the twinkling East Bay. It was very romantic (and posh) and it felt like such a waste to be there alone. But the food was gorgeous - I had the local speciality, Dungeness crab cakes - and they served me very quickly so my suffering wasn't prolonged!
]]> Flight out — Gatwick, United Kingdom http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189055520/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189055520/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/sanfrancisco07/1189055520/tpod.html Fri, 07 Sep 2007 01:17:02 -0400 Angie's work trip to San Francisco

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Gatwick, United Kingdom

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]]> Arrival — Prague, Czech Republic http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/prague07/1173364020/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/prague07/1173364020/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/prague07/1173364020/tpod.html Tue, 10 Apr 2007 17:11:45 -0400 Long overdue, long weekend in Prague

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Prague, Czech Republic

We've both wanted to go to Prague for years - Darren since he was about 18. We decided to visit to celebrate Angela's birthday - albeit 3 weeks after the actual day, as it falls within half term so flights are more expensive. As our visit didn't coincide exactly with her birthday, we thought we might as push it a little further into the year, to give a slightly increased chance of warmer weather. We visited on the last weekend of the winter (low) season, according to our accommodation rates.We were a bit concerned that we would encounter lots of rowdy stag nights in the city, but actually, the only time we had to suffer big groups of lads was on the plane journies.We left on Thursday afternoon straight from work (Angie sneaked off 2 hours early) and met at Gatwick. There was something a bit romantic about not seeing each other until the airport. That feeling was soon quashed by the length of the sleazyjet check-in queues. We weren't due to get into Prague until 9pm so went for the luxury option of a taxi transfer from the airport. Angie always feels slightly uncomfortable about this non-backpacker way of getting from the airport, especially when the public transport system is as good as it is in Prague.We booked a self-catering apartment with The Castle Steps (http://www.castlesteps.com/). Highly recommended. It is a small company run by a group of Americans. They own a number of apartments around Prague city centre, and are very friendly and helpful. They use environmentally friendly cleaning products and offer vegan breakfasts so we were happy to support them. The apartments are excellent value (we paid £35 a night) and very central (we were just below the castle). Compared to hotel rooms in the centre, whose lowest rates are about £80 a night, there is no competition. Being self catering we saved a lot of money, and cooked for ourselves most of the time. As traditional Czech food is not the most veggie-friendly (meat and dumplings) this suited us very well. Breakfast was included in the price, but you have to walk 8 minutes up the road to another of their buildings. We managed it every morning except one.We choose the smallest of their apartments and were a bit worried that it was going to be very cramped, but infact it was perfect for us. We had to share a bathroom/toilet with one other room, but we had our own kitchen, living area with sofa, table and daybed, and slept on a mezzanine level reached by wooden steps. It was very cute!  We were on the first floor of an old building so immediately got a taste of Prague's atmsophere.  We were going to go out for a drink when we arrived, but were both very tired after a day at work and the journey, so had some food and then went to bed, ready to get up early the next day for some full-on sightseeing.
]]> Tropical Island in the sun — Coral Coast, Fiji http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/rtw2000/1141922520/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/rtw2000/1141922520/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/angiedarren/rtw2000/1141922520/tpod.html Wed, 03 Jan 2007 08:28:53 -0500 First-time around the world (Angie only): this one was a holiday!

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Coral Coast, Fiji

Bula from FijiArrived in Fiji after an extremely long flight (yawn) with a plane load full of retired Americans who kept us awake all night by droning on in their monotone voices! Simon was in black jeans, poloneck fleece and fleece jacket and when we landed at 6.30 in the morning he almost passed out - it was 25 degrees C! Then it started to get really hot. A minibus took us to our resort - a beautiful area of tall swaying palm trees, grass and tropical flowers with generously spaced self contained bungalows dotted around.We stripped off our winter clothes and ran to the beach. The water was like a bath - I've never experienced anything like it! We were on a stretch of the Coral Coast, which has a coral reef about 150m out, so we could see the breakers crashing in a long line off-shore, but the lagoon was calm and shallow. On the second day we went snorkelling. What a wonderful experience - we have never seen so many different species of tropical fish (apart from in a fish book!). There were also all sorts of sea snakes/slugs which freaked us a bit - some of which weren't very pleasant at all - they seemed to have a load of writhing tentacles instead of a mouth! At one point Simon was entertaining me by splashing his hand down really hard into the water to create loads of bubbles and make it feel like a jacuzzi! Well, you can guess what happened can't you! I noticed a huge splash about 40m away, and told Simon, but thought nothing of it and started snorkelling again. Suddenly there was another big splash, this time about 10m away from us and we both clearly saw a fin sticking up out of the water. arrrggghhhh! scarper!!!! We must have made such a noise getting out of the water - everyone on the beach sat up and was looking at us! When we talked to reception later, the guy said that they have 2m sharks in the lagoon all the time - great, thanks for telling us!The next day we saw clouds amassing during the afternoon and sat at sunset on the beach to watch the weather systems unfold around us - there was almost every type of cloud imaginable in the sky above us, a huge mushroom cloud storm out at sea in front of us and to the west a massive brew that was the deepest indigo colour imaginable. As it got dark we sat beneath the palm trees with a beer and watched the huge bolts of lightning coming from tropical storms off in the distance. There were also 2 lights we could see out at sea - one was a snorkeller in the bay, the other a diving ship out by the reef - mad mad people! It's scary enough in the day but at night......!We went on a one day tour to a traditional Fijian village where we participated with the chief in a Kava ceremony - it was good to try some Kava (a traditional drink) but we both feel a bit touristy and uncomfortable being in their village - the ceremony lasted ages.Then, we walked up through the forest to a waterfall where we swam in the plunge pool - the guide told us it would be freezing, but compared to English sea/rivers it was quite mild. Simon swam right under the fall and hurt his head and sunburn! After we finished swimming we were given fresh friut to eat and a tropical flower to put in our hair as we walked back - Simon was approched by a huge buzzy bee that tried to pollinate him!There are loads of dogs living around the resort. A big pack of them runs around together and there are a litter of cute puppies. Despite telling Simon he shouldn't feed them, he insisted on buying a can of spam(!) and trying to share it out between them. All that happened was that they fought over the food and one of them snapped and growled at Simon! However, there was an interesting incident one afternoon. Suddenly all the dogs started barking and running onto the beach. A cow had come into view further down the coast! The dogs formed a pack and started to chase the cow. It kept coming towards the resort, but now at a run/canter. All the dogs were yapping around its legs and it was kicking out at them while trying to get away. We made a quick exit from the beach incase it came too near. It ended up going into the sea to get away from them. When it was finally off their territory they came trotting back looking very pleased with themselves!There are some BIG insects over here. We spotted a huge beetle on the outside of an insect screen and watched in horror as it squeezed itself through a gap in the poorly fitting frame, emerged triumphant into our bedroom, dropped on the floor and started scuttling around. Simon was very brave and managed to get it out again, but he was shaking afterwards!The beach by our resort is actually not that nice - it has lots of seaweed and driftwood littered about and sharp bits of broken coral rather than the soft sand we were expecting. Found out too late that you have to go to the outer-lying islands to discover the travel brochure Fiji. Damn! Instead, we decided to go to the nicest beach on the main island - Natadola. It was a long taxi ride and on the way there it started to rain... and continued to rain while we tried to enjoy it, and the taxi driver sat waiting for us, no doubt amused at the stupid tourists! I attempted to swim a few times but there were big rollers coming in because the beach is not protected by a reef. Simon had fun in the surf though. Took some damp photos and got back in the taxi to return to the resort. Oh well.Left Fiji the next day on a very early morning flight, heading for Australia.
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