Four Days in Portland

Recently I had the good fortune to be sent to Portland, Oregon, to attend an editing conference for work. The conference was on a Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, so I flew in Wednesday evening and stayed through Sunday morning. Work paid for my food and hotel through most of Saturday and my flights, so I was able to see a new town (one I’ve been wanting to visit for years!) for only the cost of a hotel room on Saturday night, a few extra meals, drinks, sightseeing, and souvenirs. AND it was sunny and in the 70s the whole time I was there. AND my friend Michele was coming to visit on Saturday. Luck was definitely on my side!

I rarely get to travel for work, but when I do I try to add an extra night or two at my expense when possible. Flights tend to be the biggest expense, so if someone else is covering that for you, take advantage! I won’t bore y’all with details of the conference (although if anyone wants to know about it, I will happily nerd out with you) other than to give you the bare bones as a backdrop for my experience in Portland. The conference was in a Hilton downtown, which was also where my company put me up Wednesday through Friday nights, meaning I could walk around the downtown area super easily. Also, the conference included a dinner on Friday night, but no other meals, so I got to try a bunch of different restaurants.

Day One (Half)

After an easy, direct flight but a painfully expensive cab ride from the airport to the hotel (pro tip: take the train!), I dropped off my bag in my room around 8 pm and headed right back out. I had looked up restaurants and breweries before I left Austin (Portland has more microbreweries than any other U.S. city), so I knew exactly where I was going: Deschutes Brewery in the Pearl, an area just north of downtown. It was a ten- or fifteen-minute walk from my hotel and the weather was perfect.

Deschutes

The restaurant was packed and I waited about 15 minutes for a table next to a vacationing family who kept staring at me. At one point I heard the dad tell his daughters I looked sad and lonely (I wasn’t; I was eagerly picking out beers to try). It seemed like the sort of parenting fail that’s probably going to keep those girls from being very adventurous, but I might not be a good source of parenting advice, not having any kids and all. My waiter was terrible, too, but otherwise the experience was great. For less than the price of two beers I got a flight of six different Deschutes brews (Theory of Sourtivity was my fave, but I’ve been on a sour-beer kick recently and admit it’s not for everyone).

Even more exciting for me was dinner. I’ve been a vegetarian for 22 years, but for the last year or so I kept toying with the idea of adding seafood into my diet. So, I took the plunge! Deschutes had a crab roll on the menu, and it sounded too delicious not to try. Plus, it didn’t seem too seafood-y for my first meal back. And damn if it wasn’t one of the best things I’ve eaten in recent memory. Obviously I don’t have much to compare it to, but I’d highly recommend it to anyone visiting.

Random pretty building

After dinner, I strolled back to the hotel and walked by a semi-homeless artist or musician, Powell’s bookstore (the one place on my must-see list that I didn’t make it to, which feels like a huge failure considering I was at a conference for people who read for a living and it’s all anyone was talking about), another semi-homeless artist or musician, a building with really pretty lights on it, and a gaggle of semi-homeless artists or musicians. Finally it dawned on me: there were more “homeless to be cool or to live more authentically, but not out of necessity” people in Portland than I have ever seen in one place before. And I’ve been to lots of places. It seems to be a subculture that springs out of predominately middle-class, white enclaves (I’m a sociology expert now as well as a parenting expert), so I wasn’t surprised to see so many of them in Portland once I thought about it. I just hadn’t really anticipated it.

Day Two

Maurice

The next morning I had breakfast at the hotel (I thought breakfast would be included in the conference so I hadn’t researched any options at that point), learned some stuff, and then headed north during my lunch break. I had read about a quaint French bakery called Maurice and decided it would be my first lunch in Portland. It was every bit as adorable as I was hoping, and my meal (risotto and lemon soufflé pudding cake) was delicious. A woman who I think was the owner/head chef made my risotto directly in front of my seat at the counter in an old-timey, French-country-looking pot and asked with genuine interest how I liked it after I finished eating. So, so charming.

I took the long way back to the hotel and walked along the river. It was a nice, open space with people biking, jogging, and just walking around on their lunch break like me. And did I mention it was sunny and in the 70s?

I spent the afternoon engrossed by editorial wisdom and then hobnobbed with a few fellow editors at the hotel bar for happy hour. Ever the introvert, though, I politely (or so I hope) ducked out for dinner by myself, hoping it wasn’t obvious that I was intentionally not inviting anyone to join me. I had a couple brewpubs on list, and I decided to try Old Town Brewing because it was near the Lan Su Chinese Gardens, which was also on my must-see list. The plan was to walk over to the Gardens with about an hour of daylight left, wander around inside, and then pop over to Old Town. It was only about a twenty-minute walk and I was going to see Chinatown. Long story short, that didn’t work out and I just went to Old Town.

Old Town and Chinatown

I ordered the Old Town Pils and learned that beer isn’t brewed onsite, but it’s still a local beer, just brewed at a different Old Town in Portland. I had a chatty bartender, which was perfect for the mood I was in: wanting to talk when it was easy without being obligated to carry on a conversation. There were two other people at the bar, not together, who seemed to be in the same mood as me, so we all chatted while I ate my (giant and surprisingly tasty) Caprese sandwich. I learned about heroin’s recent comeback in the area, the Portland basketball team, and the bar's sordid history relating to the Chinatown slave trade. Bartenders used to get people drunk and open a trap door under the bar stools that dropped the drunkards into underground tunnels, where slave-traders would carry them to ships waiting to take them to China and a life of slavery. I did not order a second beer.

By the time I was done eating it was too dark to visit the gardens so I said goodbye to my bar buddies and headed back to the hotel. I walked by Voodoo Donuts on the way but the line was too long and we have one in Austin now anyway. I also walked by the Chinatown arch but there were so many homeless and semi-homeless people around it that my photo is terrible. Then it was a quiet night and early to bed. I was there for work, after all.

Day Three

Imperial

The next morning I still hadn’t looked up breakfast places nearby, so I grabbed a bagel and coffee from the hotel restaurant. For lunch I went to Imperial, a restaurant in a trendy hotel downtown, just a few blocks from the Hilton. It kept popping up in my searches as one of the best restaurants in town and the chef seemed to be a celebrity on the Portland food scene, so I was excited to try it. I was so taken in by all the hype about it that I made a reservation online. For lunch, for one. I know. But, I had a limited window and it was Friday and it was the most popular restaurant in town, so I couldn’t risk it! When I arrived there were open tables and tons of room at the bar, so I asked to sit at the bar without telling the hostess I had a reservation. Pro tip: if you take some very lame, type-A precaution like this while traveling, and it turns out to be unwarranted, no one needs to know (unless you write it in a blog).  

Imperial was stylish and looked cool, and the food was good, but nothing was as amazing as everyone made it out to be. Maybe it was because I ordered simple food (kale salad and a roll), but it didn’t live up to my expectations. I’m glad I checked it out, but Maurice was so much better in every aspect of the experience.

Lan Su Chinese Gardens

After lunch I had enough time to go back to Chinatown and see the Lan Su Chinese Gardens. It cost almost $10 but I’m always willing to pay for gardens in new cities. It was peaceful and beautiful and a mini-oasis surrounded by city architecture. But then it was back to the Hilton to learn more, followed by another informal networking happy hour at the bar. It was banquet night, so I headed down with my networking friend Gina and grabbed spots at a table in the giant ballroom. The food was just okay and it was a cash bar, but one of my table-mates was an editor of Christian romance novels, so that kept things interesting. To close out the night Kory Stamper gave a keynote speech. She’s the editor of Merriam-Webster and a major celebrity among editors. (She seemed super cool, btw.) It was a fun night even if I didn’t leave the hotel.

Day Four

Mother's Bistro

I finally did a little breakfast research and headed over to Mother’s Bistro in the morning. I got there right as it opened because I read that it fills up quickly. I sat at the bar and watched more and more people squeeze through the door as a wait formed, then happily ordered cereal-encrusted French toast. There were two other ladies next to me at the bar and we became buddies. One was attending the same conference I was, and the other was attending a printmaking-artist convention. They were both in their fifties, one early and one late. I glimpsed my future as they discussed how good the fabric stores in Portland were compared to their hometowns.

For my lunch break I headed straight for the river and the Saturday Market. Blocks and blocks heading west toward downtown from the waterfront were taken over by vendor stalls selling prepared food and all the hallmarks of a craft market: jewelry, soap, various forms of art, purses made from recycled jeans, and lots of crystals. My kind of place. I bought a handmade necklace and a purple tank top with an elephant on it. On my way back I walked by Huber’s for probably the twentieth time and decided to have lunch there, solely based on the sign outside saying it was Portland’s oldest restaurant. Meh. It was nice and old-fashioned-looking inside, but the bartender couldn’t have cared less about bringing me anything and what I finally got was mediocre. However, they have a “famous” flaming coffee cocktail that I didn’t order; maybe if I had I would’ve left with a different impression.

Huber's

A couple afternoon sessions later, I was officially on vacation! I had about eight hours of unfettered adventuring in front of me before I would just start falling asleep wherever I was (because I’m old and my body loves sleep more than anything else in the world), and I was going to live it up! First, I wheeled my suitcase about ten blocks south to the cheap hotel I booked by the university. Work was no longer covering my bills, and the Hilton was way too fancy for my checking account.

Michele had been working in Seattle that week and was driving down to hang out for the night. She met me at the hotel and we immediately headed back out. Mish used to live in Portland and was happy to get me out of downtown to see “real” Portland. We hopped in her rental car and headed east across the river. I’m pretty sure we went to three distinct neighborhoods: Mississippi, not sure, and Hawthorne …sorry I can’t remember the middle one.

Ecliptic spread

First she drove us to Mississippi and we went to a brewery (Ecliptic) with perfectly fine beer and delicious snacks. Then we walked down to a bar in a pink house called Liberty Glass Bar. Ecliptic was a little too stark and warehouse-like for my taste, but Liberty was perfect. We sat outside under a vine-covered awning for another drink but time was limited and we had to keep moving. Next was White Eagle, further down the road. It used to be a brothel but now it’s a bar, live-music venue, and hostel. They serve pink beer. One of us ordered one. One of us loved it.

Happy with my life choices

After our beers it was time for dinner, so Michele drove us to the neighborhood whose name I can’t remember to an old school that’s been turned into an adult-fun complex and hotel. Mish informed me that it and the White Eagle are owned by McMenanims, a brewery and real estate investment company that finds old, dilapidated buildings around Portland and turns them into cool places to sell their beer. She also told me they’re better at creating cool bars than making good beer.

The Kennedy School had a full restaurant and lots of little bars scattered around the building, along with a theater. I embraced my new pescatarian side and ordered lobster mac and cheese, and … dang. It’s the richest thing I can remember eating, I think ever. We walked around the whole school to see everything they had (and almost crashed a wedding), but then we had to keep moving.

Backstage

We drove to Hawthorne, parked a couple houses down from the one Mish lived in while she was in Portland, and walked around the corner to our final McMenamins bar of the night: Backstage. This one used to be the backstage of a live theater (that part is a movie theater now), and they kept the high ceilings and catwalk. We had a couple drinks and played shuffleboard, but then my internal clock started telling me it was time for bed. Michele took the hint when I couldn’t stop yawning and we headed back to the hotel, but decided to have one last nightcap before bed, since there was a bar right next door. Besides, we only see each other a couple times a year and we were still catching up. But then it was off to bed, up early to go to the airport, and my Portland experience was over.

It was such a short trip, and I know there are so many areas of the city I haven’t even seen, so I’d love to go back, especially with some time to hike. It’s so green and beautiful that I instantly wanted to move there as we flew in, and I still think it would be a nice place to live. Although Michele insists that it really does rain all the time, so I’m not sure. But I’d definitely be up for another trip (and more of Portland’s delicious food and beer) to continue forming my opinion.

Training for Kilimanjaro

How does a lazy woman whose favorite pastime is sleeping train to hike Mount Kilimanjaro? If it were up to me, the answer would be not to train. I like to think I maintain a mostly healthy lifestyle, and I read first-person accounts about how Kili isn’t too challenging of a hike (I ignore accounts that take a different stance), so if it was up to me, I’d just keep doing what I do—exercising (usually jogging, swimming, Body Pump, yoga, or stair climbing) three or four times a week and eating a vegetarian diet that has a few too many carbs and alcohol servings but is still (I think) better than the average American diet.

But as I said, it’s not up to me. My hiking partner takes training way more seriously than I do, and I’m sure I’ll thank him for it once we’re in Tanzania. The biggest change he’s made to my routine is to add a weekly hike on Saturday mornings. Our favorite is River Place Nature Trail because it has good elevation changes and is long. It takes us about three hours to do the six-mile loop, and I’m ready for a nap by the time we finish. We also mix in the Hike and Bike Trail once a month; we do the full ten miles to build up our endurance, and our pace is hovering around 18-minute miles. Unfortunately there's not much elevation around Austin, so we can't train for what is probably going to be the most crucial part of Kilimanjaro. Nevertheless, they say overall fitness helps combat altitude sickness, so I'm hoping the sea-level hiking helps in a roundabout way.

In addition to the hikes, Andrew is good at making me actually stick to those regular weekly workouts. If left on my own, I might average two or three workouts a week, but we’ve gotten into a gym routine, and now my ideal week looks like this:

• Monday: treadmill sprints or rest (every other week off for art class)
• Tuesday: treadmill sprints or rest (every other Tuesday, when I have art on Monday)
• Wednesday: Body Pump
• Thursday: happy hour!
• Friday: treadmill sprints or swimming
• Saturday: long hike
• Sunday: swimming and yoga class

Ideal means this doesn't happen every week, but I'm doing way better than if I didn't have someone nudging me to go to the gym with him regularly. So if you're like me and more interested in napping than jogging, but you have an active trip coming up, I'd highly recommend you find a good training partner. I can't say enough good things about mine. :-)

Traveling at Home: Food and Film!

My endless quest to peek into other cultures prompted Andrew and me to start a new, semi-regular event. Once a month(ish), we have a “Foreign Food and Film” night. It’s a simple premise: we pick a foreign country; find a recipe for something common there that doesn’t look too tricky (my cooking skills are questionable); pick a movie from the country; and friends bring drinks, appetizers, or desserts that fit the theme.

So far we’ve done Indian, Italian, and Japanese. We cheated the first time and ordered takeout from an Indian restaurant in town (Nasha) and picked a Bollywood movie from Netflix pretty much at random (Hasee Toh Phasee). For Italy we made a Caprese salad and few different types of pizza; friends brought bruschetta, wine, and cannoli; and we watched Cinema Paradiso. For Japan we made ramen; Andrew bought some sushi; friends brought sake, Japanese beer, daifuku, and matcha ice cream; and we watched Howl'sMoving Castle.

I don’t know if we managed to order all the wrong food from Nasha, but we were not impressed at all. Everyone else I know who’s been there raves about the food, so I don’t want to dissuade people from trying it, but I won’t be giving them another chance…unless someone else is buying. Hasee Toh Phasee was silly and adorable, and I really liked it. It was the first Bollywood movie I’d ever seen, and, if they’re all like this one, I found my new favorite genre: goofy romantic comedy with elaborate song-and-dance numbers.

Despite starting a fire in the oven on Italian night, our pizzas were really tasty. We used Trader Joe’s pre-made crust (wheat and garlic, obviously the garlic was better), and my favorite combination was with pesto, mozzarella, kale, and garlic (based off this recipe but y’all know I did not make my own pesto). Cinema Paradiso was long but lovely. Plus if you don’t get too hung up on how a man can go decades without visiting his mother who lives just a few hours away, there’s a metaphor about leaving home to follow the adult path on which your childhood influences set you.

Moving to Japan, I was surprisingly impressed with how well the ramen turned out. We tweaked this recipe quite a bit by subbing fake sausage for the pork, using veggie stock instead of chicken stock, omitting fish sauce and Chinese five spice, using higher-quality noodles, and roasting Brussels sprouts instead of acorn squash. Full disclosure, Andrew and I did a test run with my mom and sister, and it was not so great the first time. But we learned some very important lessons (e.g., fresh noodles need to be pre-cooked before adding them to soup) and the second batch was pretty darn tasty. The recipe is more work than I’d put in for a normal meal, but it’s worth it for a special dinner. And Howl’s Moving Castle was a fantastic, charming, weird-at-times animated movie that made me want to watch all of Miyazaki’s movies!

I’m thinking about going to Argentina for the next installment, but I’m open to suggestions!

UPDATE: My friend Jason just introduced me to this blog. I think she's going to be great inspiration! http://globaltableadventure.com/countries-ive-cooked

Planning for Tanzania

Andrew and I booked a trip to Tanzania! We’re going for the first two weeks of September to hike Mount Kilimanjaro and do a roving safari, which involves driving around every day to see the most animals possible and setting up camp at night. Seeing an elephant in the wild is one of my ultimate life goals, so fingers crossed.

As you probably know, the logistics of hiking a 20,000-foot mountain on another continent are a teensy bit complicated. It’s an eight-day trek and, like my Inca Trail experience in 2014, we’ll have porters who carry most of our stuff and set up camp for us (my first-world guilt will come back). Therefore, it’s not going to be a super-taxing endeavor for me (other than climbing 20,000 feet and not succumbing to altitude sickness), but there’s nevertheless a lot of planning involved. And we’ll be hiking in snow but safariing in equatorial heat, which means lots of clothes to pack (and buy).

If you’ve read other parts of this blog, you might remember when my hiking boot disintegrated on the Inca Trail and I received a hasty replacement pair. Well, I still haven’t bought new, good boots, so that’s at the top of my to-do list. But the company we booked the trek through (International Mountain Guides) sent Andrew and me a detailed list of gear to buy, and I need to buy more than just boots. Luckily I have a lot of stuff on the list, but I’m going to have to get at least the following:

• Padlocks for bags
• Trekking poles
• Sleeping pad
• Expedition-weight set of synthetic long john tops and bottoms
• Parka (A mid-weight down or synthetic insulated parka with a hood is what you are looking for.)
• Warm pants (Fleece is good, soft shell type pants are even better.)
• Shell Pants: Waterproof/breathable pants (full side zips are best and Gore-Tex is perfect).
• Heavy gloves or mittens: down or synthetic insulated for summit day
• Hiking boots
• Gaiters
• Naglene bottles (2)
• Chemical hand and toe warmers (6)

This is only the stuff I don’t own from the three-page list of gear. I’m concerned for the porters…

I had to get my doctor to sign a form saying I’m fit to hike the mountain (did that today!) and I need to visit a travel doctor to discuss vaccines and malaria pills (doing that Wednesday!). I know the trip isn’t until September, but I want to give myself excessive planning time. I’m maybe a little type A, I guess.

Birthday in Jamaica

It’s taken me a stupid amount of time to write what I figure is going to be a quick and dirty recap of my 2015 international trip. I kept going back and forth about whether I should delve into my thoughts on all-inclusive resorts and whether to discuss the uneasy sense of privilege that followed me around Jamaica. In the end, I decided not to. It’s definitely the sort of thing I want to discuss, but I guess I’m still grappling with my thoughts on the matter. So I won’t bore you with them…yet.

Our resort

I decided on a trip to Jamaica based on a few criteria. 2015 was sandwiched between two very expensive trip years (Peru and Ecuador in 2014, and Tanzania on the horizon for 2016). I needed an affordable 2015. I’ve already been to Mexico and Canada, so they weren’t options. I considered Belize and a host of Caribbean islands, but in the end Jamaica won because it was the cheapest. Sorry, Jamaica, it’s not  an insult. I genuinely appreciate how easy you were on my bank account. I was able to find a great deal on an all-inclusive resort for my birthday, and two of my best friends were joining me and my boyfriend, which made what I worried would seem like a generic or impersonal trip feel much more special. And did I mention some fool was giving me all I could eat and drink?

We left a cold and rainy Austin on the last day of November and headed into uncertain weather. Well, the reports were all certain it was going to rain in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, the whole time we were there, but I refused to accept rain on my Caribbean birthday vacation. It just wasn’t going to happen. Off we went, Christina and Matt with sensible coffee (it was a morning flight), Andrew keeping tabs on the obnoxious birthday girl, who was already trying to exploit “birthday week” with wine on the plane. (I thought it would be free because we were on an international flight. I was wrong.)

It was an easy flight into Montego Bay and then a long shuttle ride to Ocho Rios, where our resort was. Always a good sport, Andrew took the shit seat. After about two hours, we arrived at the resort (Riu Ocho Rios), checked in, and headed to the buffet just in time for the early bird dinner. But to tell the truth, it wouldn’t have mattered what time it was; at an all-inclusive, everyone just eats all day long.


After dinner, we all grabbed a drink (but not the wine from the “barrel” in the dining hall—don’t do it) and headed to the beach. The sun was setting and it was starting to get dark, but we wanted to be by the water. As soon as we hit the sand, a guy appeared out of the sea, silently and magically standing in front of us where one second before there was just air. He went straight for Matt. “Hey, welcome to Jamaica, do you want [digging inside his swim trunks] some ganja [pulls his hand out of his crotch holding a bag of weed]?”

Rasta beard

I should mention that weed has recently been decriminalized in Jamaica. Yep, believe it or not, it used to be illegal. However, according to my research, the police tended to only enforce the law on locals; tourists were free to do as they liked. Fairly and justly, locals can now buy, sell, and smoke in peace as well. I should also mention that Matt has a giant, unruly beard that, based on our experience, translates to “Hi, friend! I want to be rasta! Please come talk to me!” in Jamaica. Every time our group was approached by dealers, they always went to Matt and chatted about his beard while offering him their goods. Women also approached him a lot and asked if they could braid his beard for him.

Dance party!

Anyway, we resumed our stroll along the water, watching the sky darken and the stars come up. We took a break on some beach chairs to listen to the waves and name the stars we knew, and then, with no warning, a dance party broke out just a few yards away. We were a little confused, so naturally we headed to the nearest bar, which happened to be directly above the patch of beach where the dance party erupted. It gave us a great view of the action, which was a variation of what we would see throughout our trip: resort employees leading the “nightly activity” for drunk or awkward (or both) tourists. It reminded me so much of Dirty Dancing.

In addition to the beach party on Monday night, we were treated to karaoke on Tuesday (Andrew and I ROCKED OUT to “Enter Sandman”), a song-and-dance history of Jamaica on Wednesday night, and a reggae band that also did cover songs to which we are all forced to dance on Thursday. No lie, the whole arrangement was weird. But the drinks remained free, so it wasn’t too weird.

Jerk Hut

Our days were exactly what you would imagine: sleeping in, eating plates and plates of carbs at the breakfast buffet (that was mostly me; Andrew, Christina, and Matt managed to not eat like animals somehow), and hanging out at the beach. (By the way, the weather reports were wrong, and I was right. It didn’t rain at all; it was sunny and perfect the whole time we were there.) One day we chilled in the resort pool with the swim-up bar, but mostly we stuck to the beach. They made jerk chicken in a hut on the beach every day for lunch, but they also had a lunch buffet.

Matt and me sailing in the Caribbean

On Tuesday, Matt and I paid $20 for a sailing “lesson” on a catamaran provided by the resort, and then we were able to use the boats for free the rest of the trip, so we took Christina and Andrew out another day (they didn’t take the lesson and had to supervised by the pros). On Wednesday, we took a shopping excursion into town to see the local artisan market (don’t do it; it’s a bunch of magnets and purses that were probably made in China), but other than that, we just relaxed on the beach, ate a bunch of food, drank a bunch of drinks, and enjoyed being lazy and coddled by the resort.



We left on Friday morning after one more fill up at the breakfast buffet and said goodbye to a beautiful island that we only got to see on the shuttle ride to and from the airport. The trip was everything I expected, but I didn’t experience the culture of Jamaica. That’s the nature of the all-inclusive beast, I guess.

A Tropical Winter

I’m currently in a travel desert. I haven’t taken any trips recently (with the exception of a weekend gambling getaway to Shreveport for my sister’s birthday in July) and I’m actually having to burn PTO at work right now so I don’t lose it. Yep, I have too much extra PTO because I haven’t traveled enough this year. It’s a sad state for a wanderer like me. So you can imagine how happy I was when I finally booked my annual foreign trip! It’s not until December, but it’s enough to get me back to this blog.

I’ll be going to Jamaica for five days to celebrate my 34th birthday. I’ll admit that I’m a little trepidatious about the trip because it’s so far from my normal travel style, but I’m going to say that makes it even more of an adventure…because it’s not an adventure. I booked an all-inclusive, resort-style vacation through one of those giant, cheap travel agencies. For $935 I was able to get a round-trip flight, hotel, all my food and drinks, and rides to and from the airport.

It’s a really good deal for the Caribbean during near-peak season, and I’m definitely not complaining. But this will be the first trip I’ve ever taken where the entire itinerary consists of traveling from the buffet to the beach, back and forth, all day, every day. I kind of feel like I’m cheating. Where’s the culture? Where’s the fish-out-of-water sensation that comes from struggling with a foreign language? Will I even walk a full mile during the five days combined??

Sadly everything I’ve read tells me I’m supposed to stay at the resort the whole time because Jamaica is dangerous, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to follow that advice. I want to get out and see the island at least for a day. I’m hoping I can get my travel buddies (Boyfriend Andrew and Friends Matt and Christina) to agree to a day off the resort for some swimming with dolphins (a popular tourist attraction in Jamaica and a dream of mine since childhood), sightseeing, and a beer at the Pelican Bar.

Has anyone out there been to Jamaica before? Do you have any advice? I’d love to hear some ideas on how to make this indulgent, lazy trip a tiny bit active and adventurous. But just a tiny bit: I am celebrating my rapidly approaching middle age, after all. ;-)

Galapagos, Part 2

Santa Cruz

While researching the Galapagos leg of our trip, Michele and I learned that there are two primary ways to visit, each with its own pros and cons: stay on the main island (Santa Cruz) and do day trips to other islands, or stay on a boat and travel among the islands the whole time. With option 1, you’re more limited to which islands you can see and I think there are fewer excursions in the same amount of time, probably because the boat has to take you home in time for dinner every night as opposed to being able to cruise the entire time. But with option 2, if you get seasick, well, that sucks. And you’re stuck with the same few people for the whole five days, which is great if you like them….. You are also limited in food choices and have less comfortable accommodations overall, because you’re on a boat. Option 2 is also a little more expensive, if I’m remembering correctly.

Hello, friend

Based on these broad-strokes differences, I liked option 1 better and Michele liked option 2 better. I’m stubborn, while Michele is easygoing. Guess which option we selected? I was able to convince her that I would get seasick and make her life miserable if we stayed on a boat for five days, plus I pointed out all the bars and restaurants we could explore at night if we stayed on Santa Cruz. (At the time I thought that was a legitimate argument.) So despite wanting to show off her amazing yacht hair for five days, she graciously accommodated my preferences. We started reviewing the day trips we could take from Santa Cruz, mainly based on what animals we could see where.

Practical Details for Future Travelers

Fish market in Puerto Ayora

We found out when we reached Santa Cruz that people can just fly in and book their excursions from Puerto Ayora very easily, despite everything we read in advance that said that approach was risky and people often spend their entire vacation stuck on the main island because all the tours are booked. We didn’t want to risk it, so we booked a package through one of the many tour companies. I’m happy with how it worked out, but the warnings were extremely overhyped; we could have saved quite a bit of money by waiting to book excursions when we arrived in Santa Cruz. For anyone willing to risk it, I’d recommend that approach.

Pinnacle Rock

We booked through Galapagos Travel Center, and we did the Island Secrets package:

Day 1: Arrive in Puerto Ayora; take a bay tour by boat; see iguanas, seals, and blue-footed boobies; snorkel with a giant turtle; and be serenaded by a crazy boat captain (unexpected bonus)

Marine iguanas

Day 2: Land tour of Santa Cruz island, including lunch at and walking tour of a giant-tortoise preserve; walk down lava tunnels; chill on an isolated beach (Garrapatero); drive around the Highlands and Cerro Mesa; see Darwin Station and a tortoise breeding center; and visit a local coffee roaster and bakery (another unexpected bonus)

Day 3: Yacht to Santa Fe (cacti and cliffs for birds)

Day 4: Yacht to Plazas and Bartolome (Pinnacle Rock and penguins, but no)

Day 5: Fly back to Quito

That's me with a giant turtle!

Island Sights

We got to snorkel for free on days 1, 3, and 4, which was a lovely surprise because the company made it sound like we’d have to pay extra for snorkel gear. I had never been snorkeling before and I’m worried that doing it in the Galapagos for the first time ruined me for all other snorkeling. Over the course of those three days, I swam with a giant turtle, saw a sleeping shark, frolicked underwater with playful seals, held a sea anemone, and followed marine iguanas as they dove down to feast on algae (the only iguanas in the whole world who go underwater for food!). The penguins weren’t on Bartolome as promised, but I was so enchanted by all the other animals I saw up close that I wasn’t too disappointed.

Sea lions and birds

We also did some very light hiking (aka walking for people who just did the Inca Trail) on Plazas and Santa Fe to see Pinnacle Rock and cliffs where a vast array of birds fly in and out (and baby birds sleep in nests on the ground! They have no native predators!). We also saw sea lions splayed out on rocks almost everywhere we went. They smelled terrible and occasionally got aggressive with each other, but I loved watching them laze around and bark like dogs. They reminded me of my Sam.

Food and Drinks

The first day we arrived, Alexandra (our intrepid tour guide/coordinator/second mother) shuttled us to the dock to meet our bay-tour captain and then ran out to get us lunch. We ate on the dock that day, and we had a fancy lunch at the giant-tortoise preserve on the second day. Days 3 and 4, when we were yachting around the Galapagos (I’ve wanted to write that phrase forever!), a cook prepared lunch for everyone and we ate in the little dining room of the yacht.

Yacht life

Breakfast was included with our hotel, but it took us a couple days to figure that out, so we a few breakfasts in town. Dinners were also included in our package, but we had to eat at the same mediocre restaurant every night. We played along the first two nights but then decided to branch out and try other places. Our waiter at the preordained restaurant kept trying to flirt with Michele, but her patchy Spanish and his age (60+) just made things awkward.

There was no veggie food here :(

Overall, the food in Ecuador was just okay. Lunch at the tortoise preserve was the highlight (no, we did not eat tortoise); the rest was really just sustenance. Honestly, we were both disappointed with Ecuadorian food, especially compared to the really good meals we had in Peru. And Ecuadorian beer was awful! We each bought one on the yacht one day­—because how do you not?—but I actually threw mine away because it was so terrible. If you know me at all, you know I don’t throw away booze easily.

Nightlife in Puerto Ayora was interesting. The city’s vibe brought to mind a place where cruise ships stop during the day and leave (with all the tourists) before nightfall. There were bars and restaurants, but not many people to visit them. And the Galapagos in general seemed like a destination for older folks, so the few bars we went to were pretty deserted. And we found only one bar/restaurant overlooking the water the whole time we were there! As native Austinites who are used to quality patios and don’t see much water, that seemed like sacrilege to us.

Puerto Ayora

Nevertheless, we valiantly attempted to barhop each night after dinner (the sacrifices you make on vacation), but the places either felt like a TGIFridays or an empty club. On the plus side, we got plenty of rest while we were there.

Retirement Already? Okay!

El Garrapatero

Overall the Galapagos were beautiful and relaxing, which is just what I needed after our slog through the Andes. I feel like I got a glimpse of what my retired vacations will be like, and not just because 75% of the other tourists were retired. We woke up at a reasonably early hour each morning, had active but easy sightseeing trips every day, ate bland dinners in mediocre restaurants every night, and were usually in bed by 10. If being retired means hanging out on beaches like Garrapatero, then sign me up.