Being on vacation is hard work. For instance, I have just minutes to scribble this post. It's Tuesday morning. I'm in London at my cousin, Angie's, flat near Hampstead Heath. It's grey outside. We're about to take a walk into Camden Town. Last night Angie prepared the most delicious meal I have ever eaten. She made a biryani served with green beans in a curry sauce, eggs in a tomato/tamarind sauce, sauteed calabash, and carrots in yogurt. OMG! We had a Nederberg Sauvignon (South African) to accompany this. Dessert was pears poached in red wine with cardomom and cinnamon flavors. Angie's friend Suzie joined us so we had great company and conversation too.
In Cambridge on Saturday evening we had dinner with our friends Meena and Emanuel, whom we met in Cape Town a few years ago. The weather was pretty decent so we ate outside in their lovely garden. They prepared an Italian feast (Emanuel is Italian) and served excellent wine from the Verona area. Other friends of theirs were there too. It was great fun getting to know them. The conversation kept going to South Africa - all of us had some connection to the country. We raved about Cape Town's beauty and vibrancy and then expressed our great regret about the crime and poverty. C'est dommage!
Sunday, despite waking up to drizzly skies, we stuck to our decision to go punting. We prepared a picnic and off we went. The weather kept improving and it turned out to be a wonderful day out on the River Cam. Sailing along and drinking in the beauty of the trees and bushes flanking the river was quite magical. Jason and Daryl were quite the heroes, punting furiously, and getting us all the way to Grantchester. Midway along Jason opened up a bottle of champagne and got out the strawberries. Now let me tell you, if you haven't sipped French champagne and munched on strawberries (Sweet, juicy, English) while relaxing on a punt as it sails along the River Cam on an English summer's day, you haven't lived!!! I invite you to share experiences that can match this.
The two kids, Luc and Kristal, were thoroughly enjoying it all too. We were ont eh boat all of four hours. We would have got out for a tea at Grantchester, but for an overprotective family of Swans who wouldn't let us get past them. Oh well!
Yesterday, Monday, we went into Suffolk, to the villages where Daryl grew up. We visited his Grammar school in Bury St. Edmunds and strolled through the Abbey GArdens. An excellent cream tea in Bury kept our tummies happy for a long while. The day was peaceful and it was a real treat to take in the countryside. All lush and quite pretty. A walk through the fen across from Willow House (where Daryl was born) was splendid indeed.
Today we will be spending hte afternoon with our dear friends, Roger and Gil. Right now, I'm dashing off to Camden Town.
21 July 2009
18 July 2009
Vacation at last!
Quick! We had lunch at a pub called The Hat and Feathers? What country am I in?
I had mushroom stroganoff (mediocre), and Daryl had a veg burger (also mediocre) which came with chips. I mean real chips - fat, freshly fried - sprinkled with malt vinegar. It was so good that Daryl scarfed it down in seconds much to my annoyance! I had to resort to 'stealing' chips from two kids - our two year niece, Chrystal - adorable little thing, and seven year old Luc (also adorable, but brainy is his signature quality). Imagine that!
As I write this - Saturday late afternoon in Cambridge, England, the sky is turning grey. It was mostly blue today, but a tad cool. We are staying with Jason, Marie, and their two little 'uns, Luc and Chrystal. Their house is beautiful - very modern, spacious, with a terrific gardern. Marie is passionate about her garden and the design of it is pretty awesome. Many vegetable planters - triangular in shape - are full of the healthiest plants ever - red onions, beans, zucchini, and other squashes. This is so inspiring. The house, out in the countryside, has many big windows and French doors to provide lovely views of the open fields and greenery.
Tonight we meet up with some friends for dinner and tomorrow we'll be punting on the River Cam.
I had mushroom stroganoff (mediocre), and Daryl had a veg burger (also mediocre) which came with chips. I mean real chips - fat, freshly fried - sprinkled with malt vinegar. It was so good that Daryl scarfed it down in seconds much to my annoyance! I had to resort to 'stealing' chips from two kids - our two year niece, Chrystal - adorable little thing, and seven year old Luc (also adorable, but brainy is his signature quality). Imagine that!
As I write this - Saturday late afternoon in Cambridge, England, the sky is turning grey. It was mostly blue today, but a tad cool. We are staying with Jason, Marie, and their two little 'uns, Luc and Chrystal. Their house is beautiful - very modern, spacious, with a terrific gardern. Marie is passionate about her garden and the design of it is pretty awesome. Many vegetable planters - triangular in shape - are full of the healthiest plants ever - red onions, beans, zucchini, and other squashes. This is so inspiring. The house, out in the countryside, has many big windows and French doors to provide lovely views of the open fields and greenery.
Tonight we meet up with some friends for dinner and tomorrow we'll be punting on the River Cam.
06 July 2009
4th of July Weekend
Wow! I'm just getting out of my zombie state. Went to bed past midnight four nights in a row. We sure had an action packed weekend even though we didn't leave town. The fun started on Thursday evening when Premi, Sri, Daryl, and I packed a scrumptious picnic dinner and drove up to Solvang to see Les Miserable. PCPA is a consistently top notch theater company and they certainly didn't disappoint with this wonderful musical production. Excellent atmosphere under the stars, perfect temperature (only slightly chilly), and superb acting. I thought they did a terrific job of transporting the audience into 19th century Paris and into the lives of characters that tugged at your heartstrings. There are few better ways to start a holiday weekend - especially since Daryl and I worked so hard all week on our projects.
On Friday evening we had our friends Phil and Melinda over for dinner. They have just returned from Barcelona and the Costa Brava and wanted to shared their fun experiences with us. The evening got a little exciting when Phil criticized Obama for not being more vocal about the Iranian elections. Daryl, a passionate Obama supporter, popped a few buttons. In my skillful way I managed to steer the conversation back to the Spain trip. Premi and Sri were with us too and Phil and Melinda enjoyed getting to know them. For dinner we had a selection of salads. I made my favorite summer pesto salad. In a pesto sauce you toss steamed red potatoes, steamed french beans, ripe, juicy tomatoes, and olives. It is a guaranteed success. I also made an edamame salad and an orzo salad. Premi made a garbanzo bean salad which was delicious.
Saturday, 4th of July, the sun appeared early (the fog disappeared by 9:00) and the weather was stunning. We had a terrific dinner party in our garden. No traditional barbecue since most of us are vegetarian. Our dear friends Bruce Hale and his wife Janette, came over and made us champagne cocktails. Olivia brought exquisite vegan appetizers - spinach and tofu inside philo pastry. Premi made lentil samoosas. Janette provided the dessert - Thai sticky rice (white and purple) served with fresh mango. Sheer bliss for the tastebuds! That Janette is one awesome lady. We ate, drank, and talked and talked and laughed and shared our stories - funny, sad, neutral. We had fun.
Yesterday Premi and Sri decided to have a 'braai' - a South African tradition. So the meat eaters had lamb cooked over charcoal and the vegetarians had soya sausages. We had baked beans salad and potato egg salad with this. We finished off the evening with the movie 'Doubt' - a bluray disc which we saw on our plasma screen.
The movie was fascinating. Superb acting by Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour. It was one of those movies where everyone has his/her own interpretation. Was the priest a pedophile or not? Was the harsh, rigid principal right or was she way off the mark? There are no clear answers. And on that note of doubt the holiday weekend came to an end.
My goals for this week are to polish up my novel THE STARS ARE DIFFERENT IN DURBAN and to send it off to to three editors.
01 July 2009
Summer Holidays
Six months of '09 are over! OMG! Almost a month of summer vacation over too. In two weeks we'll be off to the Old World. July 16 we fly to London. We'll divide our time between London and Cambridge the first week. Then off to Stockport (near Manchester) for a sort of family get together and birthday celebration for Glynis. On July 28 we fly to Milan, and drive to Verona where we'll indulge in a couple of operas at the outdoor arena. We have tickets for AIDA and Turandot. Should be fun.
August 1 - 8 we'll be enjoying the French Riviera or Cote d'Azur. Ah yes, swimming in the Med., sipping wine at the cafes, shopping at the markets, and oh, all that beauty. It's going to be great.
Meanwhile, I spend my days writing, or rather revising an old manuscript. Summer in Santa Barbara is hard to beat. I love the warm days, the long, long evenings, getting together with our wonderful friends, the farmer's markets, and gardening.
It's funny how my teaching job fades into the past when summer vacation rolls around. I have to say last year was one of my best teaching years. I do love 3rd grade. I connect with this grade much better than any other. Last year I had a group of kids who were nice people, who wanted to learn, who were well mannered, and who were surprisingly responsible. I could tell right from the first day that they were going to be an easy group. They did their work without asking annoying questions. They kept their name labels on their desks neat. They brought in their homework. They took their work seriously. What more could a teacher want?
I know it's going to be a whole more challenging next year. With 25 kids in the classroom there is no way I'll be able to give them the individual attention necessary to get them working at their best. With 20 kids, every child, including the advanced ones, were able to get quality time from me. It's a pity this is now a thing of the past.
Anyway, the main problem we're facing is the job losses. So many teachers have been laid off and many of them won't get their jobs back. It's s depressing to think about all the cuts we will have to face next year because of the state of California's economy.
I guess I'll just try to enjoy each moment of vacation and not think about the fall.
August 1 - 8 we'll be enjoying the French Riviera or Cote d'Azur. Ah yes, swimming in the Med., sipping wine at the cafes, shopping at the markets, and oh, all that beauty. It's going to be great.
Meanwhile, I spend my days writing, or rather revising an old manuscript. Summer in Santa Barbara is hard to beat. I love the warm days, the long, long evenings, getting together with our wonderful friends, the farmer's markets, and gardening.
It's funny how my teaching job fades into the past when summer vacation rolls around. I have to say last year was one of my best teaching years. I do love 3rd grade. I connect with this grade much better than any other. Last year I had a group of kids who were nice people, who wanted to learn, who were well mannered, and who were surprisingly responsible. I could tell right from the first day that they were going to be an easy group. They did their work without asking annoying questions. They kept their name labels on their desks neat. They brought in their homework. They took their work seriously. What more could a teacher want?
I know it's going to be a whole more challenging next year. With 25 kids in the classroom there is no way I'll be able to give them the individual attention necessary to get them working at their best. With 20 kids, every child, including the advanced ones, were able to get quality time from me. It's a pity this is now a thing of the past.
Anyway, the main problem we're facing is the job losses. So many teachers have been laid off and many of them won't get their jobs back. It's s depressing to think about all the cuts we will have to face next year because of the state of California's economy.
I guess I'll just try to enjoy each moment of vacation and not think about the fall.
27 June 2009
End of June
Saturday morning. Sun already up. All week the mornings have been grey with the sun appearing midday or later. Typical of coastal California. Our evening tend to be quite perfect - sunny, warm, calm - so can't really complain about yucky mornings. I've just finished week 3 of summer vacation. Loving every minute of it.
School is becoming more and more distant. I did indeed have a terrific year. What a precious group of 3rd graders. So sweet, motivated, polite, but energetic. Next year will definitely not be as good. For one thing, we will be having larger classes - no less than 25 kids. No way I can provide the quality education possible with a smaller group. C'est dommage. but the budget problems are serious - a real crisis. Many teachers have been laid off, including many tenured teachers who have taught close to ten years. Hopefully most of the tenured folks will be hired back.
This week I got into my writing and actually did a fair amount of work. So that feels good. I always like to read books with strong writing and with content that is close to my subject matter. BLOOD ORANGE by Troy Blacklaws, an excellent memoir of a white South African, and Evelyn Waugh's BRIDESHEAD REVISITED are my current books of choice. In both cases the stories start out in places I know well - Muizenberg and Oxford. It's wonderful to read excellent descriptions of places familiar to me.
The last couple of days I was a bit saddened by the death of Michael Jackson. I liked his music, though not as passionately as my brother, Kalvin, did. I remember when I first moved to California MJ moved into his Neverland Ranch in the Santa Ynez Valley and on my first trip back to SA I told Kalvin that I lived near MJ. Kalvin was rolling on his bed in pain because of a toothache. He must have been around 14 or 15. As soon as he heard me talk about living not too far from MJ's ranch he sat up and instantly forgot about his toothache. He wanted all the details I could give him about MJ.
The day's chores beckon - pool, garden, food shopping, etc.
School is becoming more and more distant. I did indeed have a terrific year. What a precious group of 3rd graders. So sweet, motivated, polite, but energetic. Next year will definitely not be as good. For one thing, we will be having larger classes - no less than 25 kids. No way I can provide the quality education possible with a smaller group. C'est dommage. but the budget problems are serious - a real crisis. Many teachers have been laid off, including many tenured teachers who have taught close to ten years. Hopefully most of the tenured folks will be hired back.
This week I got into my writing and actually did a fair amount of work. So that feels good. I always like to read books with strong writing and with content that is close to my subject matter. BLOOD ORANGE by Troy Blacklaws, an excellent memoir of a white South African, and Evelyn Waugh's BRIDESHEAD REVISITED are my current books of choice. In both cases the stories start out in places I know well - Muizenberg and Oxford. It's wonderful to read excellent descriptions of places familiar to me.
The last couple of days I was a bit saddened by the death of Michael Jackson. I liked his music, though not as passionately as my brother, Kalvin, did. I remember when I first moved to California MJ moved into his Neverland Ranch in the Santa Ynez Valley and on my first trip back to SA I told Kalvin that I lived near MJ. Kalvin was rolling on his bed in pain because of a toothache. He must have been around 14 or 15. As soon as he heard me talk about living not too far from MJ's ranch he sat up and instantly forgot about his toothache. He wanted all the details I could give him about MJ.
The day's chores beckon - pool, garden, food shopping, etc.
16 June 2009
Indian South Africans - who are we?
On Saturday evening we went to a party in the Hollywood hills of LA. The hosts, RayAnn and Devan, were a charming, attractive couple from South Africa. A significant percentage of the guests were South African Indians who live in various parts of California. RayAnn and Devan have a beautiful house with a sort of Hollywood modern interior design and decor. Spacious, open plan, lots of glass sliding doors for views, stainless steel appliances, etc. Beautiful paintings of South African scenes hung on their walls. I found out that the artist was a friend of the hosts. An enormous deck provided sweeping views of the hills and city skyline. The excellent meal was catered by a Greek Restaurant. Definitely, a terrific party, very organized, loads of great food, and it was a lot of fun to get to know new people.
But ... South African Indians always manage to stir up a mixture of sentiments in me. On the one hand it's wonderful to interact with people who take me right back to what is special to me. Yet, at the same time all my resentment for the community that raised me surfaces. Don't get me wrong. I really liked the folks I met. They were genuine, sincere, and warm. The type you know you can turn to when you need a friend. But, somehow, I can't help an awareness of the absence of certain characteristics that I value. I'm aware of too much attention to appearances, and too little to deeper issues. I'm also aware of the identity conflict we, South African Indians, struggle with. A minority group, raised in a western country, but surrounded by a third culture - African. What are we? We hate our Indiannness at times, but embrace aspects of it at other times. We hate the whites of South Africa, but we ape them in many ways. We claim to love the Zulu culture, but the evidence is absent.
These reflections of Indians of South Africa reminded of a conversation I'd had with my friend, Sri, a little over a year ago.
I remember saying to him over a bottle of Fat Tire Beer, how ashamed I was of being an Indian from South Africa. “I have a very low opinion of them.” He grinned – and his gentle brown eyes reflected both amusement and amazement. I remember Daryl sitting between us and not saying anything. He was too exhausted from digging holes and mixing concrete in the brutal heat earlier in the day when the temperature hovered around 90 degrees. The hottest April day in Santa Barbara on record. This was of course, 2008.
Sri and Premi had just returned from a trip to South Africa. It was Sri’s first time there (he grew up in Tamil Nadu and Premi in Durban), and he was still reeling from what he’d seen. After a reflective pause, Sri said, “I can’t get over all the BMW’s I saw coming into the lot on the wedding day. He shook his head in disgust. “How materialistic. And so insensitive to all the poverty around.”
I sat up, the hackles on my neck rising. My being critical of my people was one thing. I grew up in the community. I knew their history, their struggles and their challenges. But someone who only just learned of the existence of these people had no right man, no right. “When I say I have a low opinion of them,” I said, “I didn’t mean that there’s nothing good to say about them. The wealth that you saw – it wasn’t something that was handed to them. Indians in South Africa, despite the oppressive environment in which they grew up, despite apartheid, were able to make the most of the little they were given. They had access to education – inferior though it was – and worked hard. It’s remarkable that there is so little poverty among Indians. As a teacher here in Santa Barbara I find it so strange that the Latino community doesn’t capitalize on what they’re given, like the Indians of SA did.”
Premi, eager to add her two cents, brought a plate of chili bites that she’d just fried, to the table. She had just taken up a job with the county as a social worker. “You know, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking. I find it shocking that the low income families here get so much help and their kids have such great opportunities. They get to go these good public schools and the teachers work so hard, but they just don’t seem to appreciate what they have.”
Daryl grunted. This isn’t PC, he was trying to say (spouses, as you know can read each other’s minds, finish each other’s sentences, etc.), but his brain and vocal cords weren’t in sync. All that heat, and him being English and all.
I wanted to continue Premi’s criticisms. I mean, as a public school teacher as well as a product of a hardworking low income community, I am constantly flummoxed by the Latino phenomenon. It’s a sensitive topic. Nobody wants to sound racist. Everyone wants to make excuses and find intellectual explanations for the poor performance of our minority kids. Society gets most of the blame. So, I chose to veer away from the topic and asked about her impressions of South Africa after having been away for six years.
Anyway, back home in Santa Barbara, as I reflect on my background, I'm filled with gratitude. I am able to see the world and the people I meet from a perspective that gives me greater understanding.
Whew! That was only Chapter 1 of the weekend. Wait till you hear about Sunday!
But ... South African Indians always manage to stir up a mixture of sentiments in me. On the one hand it's wonderful to interact with people who take me right back to what is special to me. Yet, at the same time all my resentment for the community that raised me surfaces. Don't get me wrong. I really liked the folks I met. They were genuine, sincere, and warm. The type you know you can turn to when you need a friend. But, somehow, I can't help an awareness of the absence of certain characteristics that I value. I'm aware of too much attention to appearances, and too little to deeper issues. I'm also aware of the identity conflict we, South African Indians, struggle with. A minority group, raised in a western country, but surrounded by a third culture - African. What are we? We hate our Indiannness at times, but embrace aspects of it at other times. We hate the whites of South Africa, but we ape them in many ways. We claim to love the Zulu culture, but the evidence is absent.
These reflections of Indians of South Africa reminded of a conversation I'd had with my friend, Sri, a little over a year ago.
I remember saying to him over a bottle of Fat Tire Beer, how ashamed I was of being an Indian from South Africa. “I have a very low opinion of them.” He grinned – and his gentle brown eyes reflected both amusement and amazement. I remember Daryl sitting between us and not saying anything. He was too exhausted from digging holes and mixing concrete in the brutal heat earlier in the day when the temperature hovered around 90 degrees. The hottest April day in Santa Barbara on record. This was of course, 2008.
Sri and Premi had just returned from a trip to South Africa. It was Sri’s first time there (he grew up in Tamil Nadu and Premi in Durban), and he was still reeling from what he’d seen. After a reflective pause, Sri said, “I can’t get over all the BMW’s I saw coming into the lot on the wedding day. He shook his head in disgust. “How materialistic. And so insensitive to all the poverty around.”
I sat up, the hackles on my neck rising. My being critical of my people was one thing. I grew up in the community. I knew their history, their struggles and their challenges. But someone who only just learned of the existence of these people had no right man, no right. “When I say I have a low opinion of them,” I said, “I didn’t mean that there’s nothing good to say about them. The wealth that you saw – it wasn’t something that was handed to them. Indians in South Africa, despite the oppressive environment in which they grew up, despite apartheid, were able to make the most of the little they were given. They had access to education – inferior though it was – and worked hard. It’s remarkable that there is so little poverty among Indians. As a teacher here in Santa Barbara I find it so strange that the Latino community doesn’t capitalize on what they’re given, like the Indians of SA did.”
Premi, eager to add her two cents, brought a plate of chili bites that she’d just fried, to the table. She had just taken up a job with the county as a social worker. “You know, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking. I find it shocking that the low income families here get so much help and their kids have such great opportunities. They get to go these good public schools and the teachers work so hard, but they just don’t seem to appreciate what they have.”
Daryl grunted. This isn’t PC, he was trying to say (spouses, as you know can read each other’s minds, finish each other’s sentences, etc.), but his brain and vocal cords weren’t in sync. All that heat, and him being English and all.
I wanted to continue Premi’s criticisms. I mean, as a public school teacher as well as a product of a hardworking low income community, I am constantly flummoxed by the Latino phenomenon. It’s a sensitive topic. Nobody wants to sound racist. Everyone wants to make excuses and find intellectual explanations for the poor performance of our minority kids. Society gets most of the blame. So, I chose to veer away from the topic and asked about her impressions of South Africa after having been away for six years.
Anyway, back home in Santa Barbara, as I reflect on my background, I'm filled with gratitude. I am able to see the world and the people I meet from a perspective that gives me greater understanding.
Whew! That was only Chapter 1 of the weekend. Wait till you hear about Sunday!
15 June 2009
The summer begins ....
Blimey, it sure has been a long time. Lots has happened since the Jesusita fire. Lots. I will not, however, bore my loyal blog followers (yes, yes, I do have those, you know - not many. OK, a number less than 5 if I must really be honest. Still, it's more than my Twitter followers, which is still greater than the number friends on Facebook who bother to look at my profile!)) with boring details. I'll try to stick only to the sensational.
Today felt like the real Day 1 of summer vacation. I started my day with a latte, the NYT, and then a swim, followed by a hot tub soak and a few minutes in the steam room. Now, is there a better way to start the day? It's been such a long time since I was able to have a leisurely start to my day.
Last week, the first week of summer vacation, we were in San Francisco, then Yosemite. Lilli, our niece from Cambridge, came out to California to celebrate the end of exams and secondary school. We tried to show her a good time in SF by making her walk her legs off. We meandered through Golden Gate Park which has beautiful gardens and meadows and little forests. We absorbed the lively, alternative atmosphere of Haight-Ashbury. Then we took the scenic drive up Twin Peaks for a panoramic view of SF. Continuing on the drive we got onto the coast and discovered a fabulous trail with amazing views of the Golden Gate Bridge. We had wine at Buena Vista Cafe, then dined at our old favorite, Greens Restaurant, from where we watched the sun setting behind the Golden Gate Bridge. The previous evening we had dinner at another favorite, Dosa, on Filmore. This place serves up Indian food that really satisfies in every way. So, we had a fun weekend. San Francisco definitely takes on a different atmosphere in the summer compared to winter. Lots more people are up and about having a good, old time.
On Monday morning we drove to Yosemite, and were lucky to get a campsite in the valley - after some effort and waiting around. it was all worth it, though. To get up in the morning and be greeted by the gorgeous granite monoliths of Yosemite is quite special. But the campground was enormous and filled with people. Not the best way to enjoy nature and the wilderness. Daryl made a scrumptious chili and we ate heartily. The next morning we awoke early and set out for Half Dome. The first third of the trail was quite stunning especially when we got to the waterfalls. So much green, and water, and the sheer slopes of the stunning mountains. The strong scent of pine everywhere. Birdsong in the air. The sun was out, but the air temperature a bit cool - perfect for hiking. We were in high spirits the whole time. For lunch we had bread, left over chili, cheese, trail mix and a dessert of cherry pie. Yes, we are well.
We made great progress and then we came to the last bit. First, we had to climb up hundreds of steps carved into a fairly steep slope. This was not easy, especially when the trail narrowed and it seemed like there was just emptiness on either side of the steps! Not something you would do if you had a fear of heights. After the steps the cables started. I quit at this point. Daryl and Lili continued, hoping to get tot he very top of Half Dome. They gave up at the very last stretch. So, we felt good that we had done all but the last bit of the trail.
Going down was easy, but we were tired. We had walked up 8 miles and now we had to descend those 8 miles. We got back to the valley around 7:30 - about 11 hours after we had started. Luckily we weren't camping that night. We drove out of the park in search of a motel. We found a rather cute one in Fish Camp. The restaurant at the motel made us vegetarian pasta which we devoured. Fish Camp was surprisingly chilly. We had to turn the heating on in our room. After hot showers we slept like logs.
So, talk about starting vacation with a bang!!
As if that wasn't enough, we returned home to a fully scheduled weekend. More on that later!
Today felt like the real Day 1 of summer vacation. I started my day with a latte, the NYT, and then a swim, followed by a hot tub soak and a few minutes in the steam room. Now, is there a better way to start the day? It's been such a long time since I was able to have a leisurely start to my day.
Last week, the first week of summer vacation, we were in San Francisco, then Yosemite. Lilli, our niece from Cambridge, came out to California to celebrate the end of exams and secondary school. We tried to show her a good time in SF by making her walk her legs off. We meandered through Golden Gate Park which has beautiful gardens and meadows and little forests. We absorbed the lively, alternative atmosphere of Haight-Ashbury. Then we took the scenic drive up Twin Peaks for a panoramic view of SF. Continuing on the drive we got onto the coast and discovered a fabulous trail with amazing views of the Golden Gate Bridge. We had wine at Buena Vista Cafe, then dined at our old favorite, Greens Restaurant, from where we watched the sun setting behind the Golden Gate Bridge. The previous evening we had dinner at another favorite, Dosa, on Filmore. This place serves up Indian food that really satisfies in every way. So, we had a fun weekend. San Francisco definitely takes on a different atmosphere in the summer compared to winter. Lots more people are up and about having a good, old time.
On Monday morning we drove to Yosemite, and were lucky to get a campsite in the valley - after some effort and waiting around. it was all worth it, though. To get up in the morning and be greeted by the gorgeous granite monoliths of Yosemite is quite special. But the campground was enormous and filled with people. Not the best way to enjoy nature and the wilderness. Daryl made a scrumptious chili and we ate heartily. The next morning we awoke early and set out for Half Dome. The first third of the trail was quite stunning especially when we got to the waterfalls. So much green, and water, and the sheer slopes of the stunning mountains. The strong scent of pine everywhere. Birdsong in the air. The sun was out, but the air temperature a bit cool - perfect for hiking. We were in high spirits the whole time. For lunch we had bread, left over chili, cheese, trail mix and a dessert of cherry pie. Yes, we are well.
We made great progress and then we came to the last bit. First, we had to climb up hundreds of steps carved into a fairly steep slope. This was not easy, especially when the trail narrowed and it seemed like there was just emptiness on either side of the steps! Not something you would do if you had a fear of heights. After the steps the cables started. I quit at this point. Daryl and Lili continued, hoping to get tot he very top of Half Dome. They gave up at the very last stretch. So, we felt good that we had done all but the last bit of the trail.
Going down was easy, but we were tired. We had walked up 8 miles and now we had to descend those 8 miles. We got back to the valley around 7:30 - about 11 hours after we had started. Luckily we weren't camping that night. We drove out of the park in search of a motel. We found a rather cute one in Fish Camp. The restaurant at the motel made us vegetarian pasta which we devoured. Fish Camp was surprisingly chilly. We had to turn the heating on in our room. After hot showers we slept like logs.
So, talk about starting vacation with a bang!!
As if that wasn't enough, we returned home to a fully scheduled weekend. More on that later!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)