The Countdown

A week to go. We made it through Christmas. It was low key, nice, cozy, our grandkitties were enthralled at the birds outside the windows, and Sarah, Muzzy and I got to see the new Hobbit movie in 3D. I was aprehensive because I don't like 3D. I saw Alice in Wonderland and found it distracting and annoying. However, I may have to change my thoughts on this. The Hobbit 3D was actually very mellow, enhancing the action and the fabulous scenery. There was one present mishap. I opened the box for my new Ipad, excited to take it on the trip, set it on the floor, and continued opening packages. The clever external keyboard/stand that Muzzy also gave me was insecurely packaged and slipped out of the box, bouncing on the floor. I picked it up, noting how lucky I was not to have broken it, and set it aside as well. After all the flurry of paper and bows was done, I picked up the Ipad to see a spreading spiderweb of cracks in the face. It wasn't even out of the plastic! I was horrified! So that is what that pinging noise was when the keyboard dropped. We pressed on, determined not to spoil the day. I called the Apple support line, and was told to get to the nearest Mac store and I could get a replacement. There wasn't time to mail it in and wait...we leave in a week! I made an "appointment" at the Mac store in the Alderwood Mall for the next morning, dreading I would be responsible for the repairs, that they wouldn't have a replacement, etc. etc. After a sleepless night, Sarah and I jumped in the car on Wednesday morning and drove to Lynwood, got to the store where the very sweet manager simply handed me a new Ipad, made the exchange, declaring that it must have gotten damaged in shipping (!), and sent us on our way. We were home before noon with a new device, had a great lunch. Sarah generously helped me set it up, she is so quick and helpful and I am so grateful for her patience. WHEW! Now we will see how it works on the trip! So...if you want to follow this blog, there is a place on the right, below the photos, where you can enter your email to get notifications. Otherwise, check back if you are interested. We will be posting blog entries and, hopefully, photos, as we go.

It's nearly Christmas and I am in the throes of Christmas things, and trying to get ready to go. We leave January 4th and I have anchored our trip in and out but have done nothing about booking lodging or travel in Myanmar/Burma. I haven't even been able to book our air ticket to Yangon, so I am trusting we can do that in Bangkok. On the other hand, being stuck in Bangkok isn't such a bad prospect. We have our Burmese visas, so...there you go. We are at the New Siam II in BK and spending the last week on Koh Tao, back on the gulf side of Thailand again. The place we booked looks good in the photos, but then, they all do. Just the prospect of a week on an island can't be all bad. In between we have the conundrum of getting from Yangon to Inle Lake to Bagan and back to Yangon. It's looking like the trip down the Irrawaddy from Bagan may not be the best idea after all. The scenery has been described as depressing, the boat as unreliable, and the time too long. I can do two days on a boat and have done that, but not four. As I discovered on our last trip to Burma, the romance in my head does not match the reality of a country still reeling from an oppressive government and terrible natural disasters. I have low expectations this time and want to leave as gentle a footprint as I can. I do, however, remember the incredible hospitality of the people, and the beauty of Bagan and Schwedegon Paya. I'm sure Inle Lake will be wonderful, so...I'm looking forward to more adventures.

Getting ready for Thailand and Burma (Myanmar) in January '13.

San Francisco April 2012

Sarah and I took a 3 day break and went to San Francisco last week. We stayed at the Hotel Boheme in North Beach, our favorite place to stay now. It was a beatnik flophouse in the '50's and lies above what used to be the Stella Dora Bakery right on Columbus Street.

The rooms are small and cozy and surprisingly quiet. And we love being in North Beach. The food is great, its easy to walk around, City Lights is right down the block. While we waited for our room to be available, we went up the block and had lunch at an Italian cafe. I had a plate of pasta pomodoro, simple, delicious and perfect. I sat in the sun with my sunglasses on, watching the parade of people. After checking in, we went around the corner to the Caffe Trieste, an old favorite, and had a cafe au lait, in a glass, the way its supposed to be. The original is the best.

Our next stop was a thorough perusal of City Lights. It is overwhelming the number of books we don't see or hear about in Bellingham, and a little depressing. Without copying down the names like a complete dufus, I will never remember them all and I felt like a rube. We finally killed enough time to cross what is now "Jack Kerouac Alley" to Vesuvio's for happy hour. Sarah was amazed that I had never been to Vesuvio's in all the years I lived in the City. I explained to her that when I lived there, I wasn't yet 21. Besides, though the Beats had made it famous by 1966, no one I knew, real City-zens, would be caught dead being that uncool. I loved sitting upstairs drinking a Stella with my daughter. The City always makes me feel sophisticated. Even now, 40+ years later, I get a continental, adult, very hip feeling doing "city" things. I loved Vesuvio's. It was charming.

Our next stop was the House of Nanking. It's right across the street from the Zoetrope Building. Usually there is a long ine out front, but we were just early enough to get the last two empty spots at one of the long tables that line the interior of this tiny crowded Chinese eatery. Although I just finished reading The Devil of Nanking, a gory and somewhat depressing book, it didn't distract me from eating my fill of garlic long beans and crispy chicken with sweet potatoes. We washed it down with some Tsingdao and walked back to the Boheme for a good night's sleep.

Thursday was our full day. We had cafe au lait and pain au chocolate at Cafe Trieste, ensconced at our table in the back, then headed to Market Street via the Stockton bus. Transferring to the 71 Haight, we arrived at Haight and Masonic for a walk down to the Park. I don't remember how many times I've made that walk. I snapped some photos, forcing myself to overcome the feelings of Uber Tourist. I got a good one of the entrance to the Drogstore Cafe. It used to be an actual drugstore until the City forced the new owners to change the name...a cutsey play on words for the Haight back in the day. It was also the first place I belly danced in public with my friend Happy Hyder in 1972. I had Sarah take a photo of me at the Haight Ashbury sign at Ben & Jerry's. The actual street signs have been conveniently lowered to fit into just such photos, but it came out pretty well. And I snapped a shot of the big beautifully restored Victorian on the corner of Ashbury and Page that Shob Carter lived in before he was killed. I spent a night in the turret room with Shob...and that's about all I remember, really. I also got a snap of 408, the infamous commune building where I met Sarah's father. Adventures around 408 and those two years including the Summer of Love are the core of the novel I am trying so hard to finish. On the way back up to Haight Street Sarah and I tried to visit a small private Haight Museum attached to a B&B, but no one would come to the door even though the charming gate was open. Too bad. From what we could see with our noses pressed to the oval glass door, it might have been fun.

We braved the wind (I forgot how breezy it is in San Francisco) and headed for the Park. I caught a relatively unpeopled shot of the entry pond and the tunnel that ducks under Stanyan Street. That tunnel used to seem so long and dark. I remember Carol and I seeing a flasher in there and running out laughing so hard we fell on the grass. I tried not to wax too nostalgic for Sarah about how many times I brought her and her sister Lise to the children's playground which is straight ahead as you come out of the gloom. We turned right toward Hippie Hill and I took a shot of the nearly empty hillside. Sarah remarked how the hippies were a lot more colorful than the homeless who now lounge around the area. Not a politically correct thing to say, but a true observation and a comment on the times, I suppose. Going back to the Haight is always tinged with sadness for me.

Were we colorful? Hippie Hill was so full of ghosts that I could almost hear the drums and see the long line of conga players lining the walkway. We continued into the interior of the Park. Things change in 40 years, even the plants. What I called the Prehistoric Garden was being replanted by a small work crew, but as we passed through I wasn't sure it was the same place. Sarah spotted the Science Museum with the rooftop garden and told me we were near the deYoung. As we walked around the side, I finally figured out where I was. Before me spread the large rectangle holding the fountain and the rows of benches in front of the old bandstand. The deYoung sat on the north side and the Science Museum that replaced the old Natural History Museum on the south. Sarah told me they saved the huge pendulum clock from the old Natural History Museum and that the old albino alligator was still alive and housed in the new Science Museum. I missed the art deco entrance with its Egyptian lions flanking the steps of the newly remodeled deYoung, but it the exhibit of Jean Paul Gaultier's couture wear was what we came to see. We'd had some debate about expense and time, but OH MY GOD! I'm so glad we did it!!!! Indescribable, exciting, exotic, fabulous, unique...not enough superlatives to explain the sensory overload! The mannequins had moving faces projected on them so they spoke, sang, and seemed alive. One was Jean Paul himself talking about his work and the exhibit. Fantastique! The Madonna grouping (not Madonna the person, but like, the mother of god) sang. Sarah knew the many of the models and so much about the clothing. We were two seamstresses in heaven! The mermaids were the very best. One was on crutches...because mermaid's don't have feet...and her crutches were unique pieces of art. We were close enough to the the clothing to walk all the way around most of it. There was even a place to sit down and rest our very achy feet while watching a wall of monitors showing videos of Gaultier's collections.

Upon leaving the museum, I noticed the old Egyptian lions sitting in a small space to the side of the entrance. I snapped a photo of Sarah in her purple jacket sitting with a lion, my little Leo rising. And as we contemplated the long walk back to Haight Street for lunch, not one but two taxis pulled up and let people out. We rode back to Haight Street on the Lincoln Street side of the Park near my old commune on 6th Avenue. I was suddenly re-oriented...and then I was gone again.

Eating at a small Thai place on Haight Street I stared out the window, trying to recall the "old days" and wondering why I couldn't relate this tree lined shabby street to the one in my memory. It occurred to me that when I was on Haight Street, there were no trees at all! We spent the next couple of hours at the Korean spa next to the Fillmore in Japan town. After being scraped and pummeled, we had more noodles and went to see The Hunger Games. It was on the whole, a perfect day! Friday we had a big breakfast, more cafe au lait at Trieste, and explored the Beatnik Museum while we waited for the bead store to open. Yone's is a North Beach, San Francisco institution for bead freaks. I first went there in 1967 with my best friend Carol. Yone died several years ago and now it is run by Sandra. It is open Thursday, Friday and Saturdays from 1-6 pm. Braving the scaffolding that obscured the entrance, we went into the small shop full of 50 years of beads. It isn't an ordinary place. There is some order...of a sort. Sandra asked what type of thing we were looking for and started bringing out trays of assorted vintage silver pieces that made my mouth first dry and then drool. My heart beat faster and I felt faint with overload as I loaded up one empty holding tray after another. Behind us, the sound of someone moving caught our attention as 90 year old Herman shuffled into the store and took his place behind the counter. Sarah struck up a conversation and soon all four of us were telling stories, looking at obscure vintage and antique beads, laughing and talking as I narrowed down my choices. Difficult as always, I missed Muzzy then...he always urges me to spend, to be bold, to take chances and not hold back. On my own I am much more conservative and then always regret it. But the best part of the bead store was Herman and Sandra...she, the Lebanese pastry expert trying to learn the business, and Herman, talking about lining his coffin with beads he couldn't bear to sell. It isn't often anymore that I can amaze my adult child. Yone's was a gift from me to my daughter, via her father, the king of serendipity, who introduced me to the wonder of San Francisco 46 years ago. I fell in love with the City through his eyes and despite everything, I still find it magical. How nice to share that magick moment with my daughter, and to see it through her eyes, to find myself with one more trick up my sleeve. I should have taken more pictures.