a camera, a passport, a ukulele

Giveaway: Hazel Mail Postcards

July 3, 2009 – 11:10 am | by nerd's eye view

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Postcard Revival

Hey, did I send you a postcard? I won a whole pack of them from Trusty Pony and for grins, I mailed them all out to my Twitter followers. I hear the postcards came out pretty nice, though in retrospect, I wish I’d mailed one to myself just to see first hand.

Happily, now you can win a set of DIY postcards from Hazel Mail. I’m here to tell you, it’s a cool service — you upload your photo to their site, type in your note and the address, and off they go to ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD! No kidding! I sent mine to South Korea and Holland and lots of places around the US. Make someone’s day, send them a postcard.

Just leave a comment and hey, if you wanted to drop a link to your post that espouses the wonder of postcards, that would be fun for me, but it’s not required. Only one entry, please, duplicates will be disqualified and don’t think I can’t see your IP address, nerds. I’ll close comments next Friday morning, July 10th, when I fall out of bed and wander to my desk. I get to pick five winners, count them FIVE, so odds are in your favor.

Postcards. They are cool and wonderful and happy. Win some, then send some.

Recycled: In Search of Something Real

December 28, 2006 – 10:02 am | by nerd's eye view

Stommish Pow WowAuthenticity.

It’s the buzzword of the enlightened traveler. We seek the genuine experience, something unspoiled by commercialism or prior visitors; we seek the perfect interaction with the culture we’re visiting. Maybe our fantasy is to be adopted by a tribe, to receive some kind of acknowledgment that we’re not just another camera toting white shoe wearing tourist. Maybe it’s to have a time travel moment, to visit a land seemingly unspoiled by progress. Maybe we want to boldly go where no man has gone before. We are out of luck.

For some reason, writing about authenticity in travel has been flying across my radar lately. I read stories punctuated with introspective commentary about polluted cultures or an inability to leave our world behind. I’m starting to think we are missing the point.

We live in a small world. In a day and a half, we can be in the African bush, with a Hmong hill tribe, in the Moscow subway. Visas and politics not withstanding, the world is open to us. If our bodies and minds can be there, our global policies and influences are there too. And we tend to really enjoy things like Internet access and indoor plumbing, which got there the same way we did. I suspect we prefer a somewhat sanitized authenticity.

The word authenticity implies a genuine, distilled sort of experience, a kind of transitory purity that may exist somewhere, but will be gone as soon as we lay our eyes on it. Some time back I watched an episode of Globe Trekker where the host visited a tree house dwelling tribe in – oh, was it New Guinea? And I remember seeing western t-shirts on some of the tribe, left behind by the last camera crew, perhaps?

Sure, travel companies will charge you a lot of money to offer up a “real” experience, but what you’re purchasing is no more or less authentic for its exclusivity. Here in Seattle you can take a ferry out to an island and attend a “genuine” Native American powwow, with salmon bake and native dances – but the powwow we stumbled into last summer had a fun fair and roller coasters. There was a salmon bake and dancing, but also, cotton candy and fairground games where you could win a giant pale pink teddy bear. Was it less authentic?

The strip malls of Vegas are no less real than the Kingdom of Bhutan. We have to stop being offended by the Bob Marley cassettes, no, the Pearl Jam CDs, left behind by the last generation of travelers and take it as part of the experience. It is what is real now and when we travel we are in it. We are both cause and effect of this perceived lack of authenticity. We’re relying on our destinations to provide it, but it’s Shangri-la, it’s Atlantis, it’s Brigadoon and Camelot. You can’t get there from here.

The best we can hope for is to be authentic in our travels. Wherever we go, there we are.

Aloha, Holoholo Wale.

June 30, 2009 – 6:41 am | by nerd's eye view

That title makes no sense unless you happen to know that the name of my Hawaii blog was Holoholo Wale. I’m really sad to tell you that my World Hum Hawaii blog has been shut down.

Sunset, Waikiki

It was a business decision, a lay off, essentially. World Hum had to cut loose the half dozen or so bloggers they’d added to the site early this year. There’s a post here from one of the editors and one more aloha from me here.


More…

A Handful of Reviews

June 29, 2009 – 6:16 pm | by nerd's eye view

The great thing about being unemployed — okay, one of the great things — is the amount of time it frees up for reading. I’m oh-so-bookish and it’s been really nice to finally plow through the piles of reading material that’s stacked up next to the bed. And one of the fun things about being bloggy is that I’m on the receiving end of lots of media — I get books and CDs and music to review. All in all a serendipitous situation for someone with time. Here are a few lighting round reviews.

Blue Latitudes: Boldly Going Where Captain Cook Has Gone Before: You gotta read this book. It was on my list because not only does it cover the travels of the great explorer, but there’s a good deal of research into the unfortunate events that lead up to Cook’s death at Kaleakakua Bay in Hawaii. The book is a great read, part history, part travelogue, it’s funny, entertaining, educational, just read it, already, so we can talk about it.

The Painter from Shanghai: A Novel: This story about a girl who’s sold into prostitution and finds her way out just as China is going into the revolution is well written and engaging, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d read this story before. There’s something all too familiar in the plot elements, a drug addled guardian, a madam with a mean streak, a man with an open heart who can’t quite make the leap, an unconventional girl grown into an unconventional woman… The book is based on the true story of a Chinese artist and it really does capture the time and place, but I was never surprised, not once, by the path the story took. Maybe there’s such a thing as reading too much exotic fiction?

Off the Beaten Path - Newly Revised & Updated: A Travel Guide to More Than 1000 Scenic and Interesting Places Still Uncrowded and Inviting: This big colorful almanac type book has been hanging out on the coffee table for about two months, I’m still flipping it open to see where Reader’s Digest thinks we should go. For most of the states, I can’t confirm or deny the “off the beaten pathedness” of the destinations, but it’s fun and inspiring to look at places I’ve never been. What do I know from Iowa or Oklahoma? This might make a nice gift for the road tripper in your life, it will give them wacky ideas about visiting that giant ball of string or a fourth generation candy factory. I’m for that.

Putumayo Presents: Italia: I know nothing, less than nothing, about Italian pop music, what experience I have with it comes from driving the Autostrada, lost, between the Austrian border and my friend’s place down in Tuscany. When I put this CD in the car, there I was again, pedal to the floor, pointing south towards Roma, but not only that, I was listening to this perfect mix that my perfect imaginary Italian boyfriend made for me so my head would be in the perfect Italian state of mind when I got to his apartment in Porto Ercole, you know the one with the view of the water where he’s making cioppino so I’ll have something for dinner when I get there. Did I mention that I loved this CD? If you don’t have a dreamy Italian boyfriend making mixes for you, you should TOTALLY get a copy.

Enchanted April: This little movie starts out sluggish and weird and I was really distracted by the odd soft focus photography, but about half an hour in, I completely forgot all that and was totally charmed. I don’t know what it is about the Italian countryside that makes the repressed English so much more charming, but, hey, it made me want to rent a place on the Italian coast for a month when the weather is vile here. Maybe in Porto Ercole, where my imaginary Italian boyfriend lives. It’s a nice little vacation of a movie — dreary people go on vacation and come back better humans for it — and hey, that’s a good model to live by.

Note:  All those links go straight to Amazon, so if you decide to get any of this stuff, please click through. Amazon gives me a tiny bit for everything you buy and the prices are the same whether you go through my site or not.

Our Hawaii Stays

June 29, 2009 – 1:57 pm | by nerd's eye view

Disclaimer: We were comped for our Waikiki stays. On Kauai, we received 2 nights free and 3 at a very deep discount.

It’s occurred to me that as much as I came back from Hawaii full of stories about new places, I never did write about where we stayed. And I should have, because they were great places. Let’s get right to it.

Outrigger on the Beach, Waikiki: This is a lovely property, you guessed it, right on the beach. It’s been remodeled recently and the rooms are in lovely earth tones. We got total VIP treatment — they’d put us in an upper floor beach front room and the view from our balcony, wow, it was nothing short of spectacular. But hey, we actually got to do a little comparison shopping — our travel companions booked their own room and were upgraded, with no fuss or fee, to a partial ocean view room that overlooked the pool. Our room was a little bigger, but the appointments were exactly the same. I loved the open air lobby, the breakfast buffet was pretty good and reasonably priced, and hey, this is A Nice Hotel. The Kani Ka Pila bar and grill is poolside and every night they had Hawaiian music, first rate Hawaiian music, with no cover charge. Sure, a fruity drink starts at 8 bucks, but you’re getting the kind of entertainment I’ve paid a LOT more to see for nothing.

Less than perfect? I was sort of amazed that such a nice hotel had Styrofoam cups for my in-room coffee. If you’re fussy about noise, the rooms overlooking the pool deck get the music from the bar until 10pm, this could be a problem for you.  Also, here’s a weird detail: Because the restaurant faces the water, we could smell the grill more than we could smell the ocean.

Aqua Coconut, Waikiki: The decor in these rooms, the bright colors, the wacky 50s style modern touches, wow, this place has the kind of style that I really adore. There were lots of available wifi signals to connect to — though they were kind of slow. I really appreciated that they had provided basic kitchen amenities — a microwave, plates and cutlery, that sort of thing; I love it when a hotel acknowledges that you’re going to snack in your room and makes it easy for you. We had a suite, it was twice the size of our friends’ room but again, the decor was exactly the same and hey, I liked it! Did I mention the style? Breakfast was included — nothing fancy, hard boiled eggs, cereal, fruit, coffee, DIY waffles, you know the drill — all fine. The hotel is walking distance from the strip so while it’s not beach front, it’s still very convenient for everything in Waikiki. This place seemed like a bargain at the listed prices, a bargain — I found our room on special on the day we were there for 90/night.

Less than perfect? This is more about the location than about the hotel, but there was a lot of street noise here. The hotel is on a busy intersection and there’s lots of traffic all night long.

FYI on Waikiki:  You’ll almost always pay extra for parking, about 25 bucks a night, plus, hey, don’t forget to tip your valet when he brings you your car. Because you can walk everywhere, you might consider skipping the rental car and just getting on when you decide you want to explore the island. It will save you some cash.

Hanalei Colony Resort, North Shore, Kauai:  Location, location, location. They were awfully nice to us here, downright family like. We arrived very early in the day and while they could not give us our room, they did give us towels and the key to the pool so we could hang out, do our laundry, and have a peaceful sqaunder until they could let us in. Then, they put us on the upper floor unit with an absolutely stellar view. We were so close to the surf that you could not hear a person speaking in the other room. It was incredible. It’s not fancy, there’s nothing particularly swank about the place, but it’s clean, comfortable, well maintained and practically on the beach. The units are open floor plan and sleep four — they have sleeping alcoves more than bedrooms, but it’s really fine for four, especially since there are two bathrooms. There’s no TV, no phones, no wifi, nothing but the sound of the ocean. Wow. I wandered up to the office every morning to pick up a Kauai paper and to try to hitch on the wifi, but I spent most of my time sitting on the balcony gawping at the breathtaking scenery.It’s funny, the first thing I noticed back in my house in Seattle? The lack of surf noise. It seemed dead silent by comparison. I missed it right away.

Less than perfect? Uh. The wifi at the cafe was squirelly, but I usually just gave up and went back to drinking coffee on the balcony. Uh. It’s a little inconvenient for the airport if you have an early morning departure. Uh. Oh. It was not immediately apparent what we should do with our recycling and we felt bad about that.

If you’re going to Kauai and can afford Hanalei Colony Resort, GO FOR IT, but book your departure night somewhere closer, like Poipu. On Waikiki, I’d totally recommend either property, though honestly, I like the Diamond Head end of the strip because it’s a bit quieter. You can still walk everywhere, it’s another 15/20 minutes from the end of the strip, but I think it’s worth it.

Lessons from a Press Trip that Did Not Happen

June 28, 2009 – 8:29 pm | by nerd's eye view
  1. Everyone screws up. Even the most seasoned of travelers has a story about that one time when… And if you are nice enough, those sheepish travelers will share their disaster stories with you. It will make you feel a little better, but it’s a bit like putting iodine on a scrape. Ouch.
  2. People will take pot-shots at you if you accept the terms of writing in exchange for travel. Let them. It’s your call, pal. There’s a lot of contention about bloggers and press trips and you’re going to have to find your own way.
  3. Not every one practices disclosure. I happen to think that indy bloggers and reviewers should state the terms of their stay. If it’s on the house and you’re being wined and dined by the PR folks, you should say so. I’m starting to wonder if I’m in the minority on this, but also, I have no intention of changing my policy.
  4. If you have the kind of friends who will take you to the airport at midnight, you are a lucky person. Yup, that’d be me. I have the best gay boyfriend on the planet.
  5. Military time is underutilized. It’s a lot easier to mentally digest those post-midnight flights if they’re listed in 24 hour time. See you in Terminal A at oh dark hundred!
  6. Do not say yes to the trip until you have seen the itinerary. Oh, sure, it’s all fun and games until you’re in Houston for nine hours on a stopover.
  7. Enlightened PR folks aren’t interested in having everyone write the same story. It’s boring for readers and doesn’t add insight into a destination.
  8. The public library is an amazing asset for pre-trip research. It’s how I know that what I really missed out on was the opportunity to buy a perfect Yucatan “matrimonial” hammock and how I learned about the wonder that is the Mezoamerican Barrier Reef. Also, The People’s Guide to Mexico is truly an amazing guidebook. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
  9. My home town is way the hell out there. Because of the diversity, because almost everything I could want is here, I don’t often think about the fact that we really are in the northwest corner of the country. And yet, here we are, awfully far away from so many places in the US. It’s easier to get to Asia than it is to get to middle America. In spite of that…
  10. Seattle is freakin’ awesome. Okay, I knew that already, but in seeking out consolation prizes for missing this trip to Mexico, I found a perfect Mexican moment a mere 20 minutes from my front door. God, I love it here.

Muy Rico!

June 27, 2009 – 6:50 pm | by nerd's eye view

El Estascion used to be a Taco Bell or some kind of “Mexican” take out. It’s still got the counter, the sturdy booths, the arched brickwork. But there’s nothing faux Mexican about it anymore.

When you walk in, either the father or one of the two sons greets you with a smile showing sparkling white teeth — one of the sons waxes his mustache into perfect curls on each end, one of them is so tall you can’t quite believe it when he stands up. The women who staff the kitchen have thin arched eyebrows, maybe painted on, and their black hair is pulled tightly back.

Everyone is speaking Spanish — the pair of guys in the window booth — one in a big black cowboy hat — the couple with the stocky boy, the three macho guys with tattoos sitting at the center table, the kitchen staff.  Standing in the middle of the room is a guitar player. He’s neatly dressed in a vest and white shirt, he’s wearing a clean straw hat, and he plays Mexican songs on his guitar. He plays a song, singing, picking his guitar strings, not too loud. There’s no applause. He talks with the macho guys for five minutes or so, they flip through a laminated spiral bound binder, maybe it’s a songlist? They chat, the musician, the guys, and then he plays another song. The guys are drinking big tomato colored drinks with salt on the rim and a big slice of lime on the edge of the glass.

My friend has a burrito — carnitas, grilled meat — and I have the rajas — roasted chilis, onions, tomatoes, topped with grated cheese. There’s an orange heap of rice and a slop of refried beans on the plate, everything is absolutely delicious. We drink Coca Cola from heavy glass bottles labeled in Spanish, I pour mine into a Styrofoam cup filled with ice. My tortillas are thick and irregular — I hold each one in the palm of my hand, fill them with rajas, roll them up, and eat them. Another family comes in, two women, sisters, maybe, and a large man hefting a baby in a carrier. The women are dressed to kill in high heels and sharp makeup and big sparkly earrings.

The waitress smiles as she takes our plates. I’ve been here a few times before, I don’t know if she recognizes me as the gringa with a thing for Mexican food. They always speak Spanish to me when I walk in, switching to English only if I can’t make the effort to use my rusty Espanol. If I do, the men at the counter wait, they assist, they do not switch to English just to make it easier for me.

I love this place because they serve Mexican food like I remember from California, not the washed out facsimile I’ve learned to settle for here in the Pacific Northwest. I love that they have a sign that tells you which tamales are available that day, I love that I can not get my head around the menu and am forced to order whatever my eye sticks to when I’m there so it’s something different almost every time. That’s how I ended up with the rajas.

At the next table, the macho guys chat and laugh with the guitar player. He sings a song, it has a distinctive Mexican sound. When he’s finished, again, there is no applause, just questions from the macho guys, more chatter, another song. I have no idea what they’re talking about. My ears are full of Spanish, the rajas sit warm in my belly. my Mexican Coca Cola melts the ice in my cup. The guy with the black cowboy hat gets up and leaves, his buddy follows, a fourth guy joins the middle table. From up high on the south wall, the Virgin of Guadalupe watches over all of us, the waitress, the musician, the machos, the women in their makeup, the padron with his flawless smile. Suddenly, the small room fills with an overwhelming smoky smell of chilis roasting and a few minutes later, there’s another song.

Taqueria La Estacion is at 14820 Ambaum in Burien, south of Seattle. Go hungry, go often.