The Silent "I"

Greetings from Kauai

 

We landed in Kauai on Sunday, after an early morning rush to the airport, and an uneventful flight.  Despite news of a Christmas Day terrorist attempt on a Northwest-Delta flight, nothing much seemed to have changed for domestic flights.  We weren't strip-searched at the airport, weren't mauled by bomb-sniffing dogs, and weren't asked to prove that our underwear was, in fact underwear and not some synthetic explosive device disguised as unmentionables.  It was pretty much business-as-usual.

We were last in Kauai in 2007, and are back at our timeshare at the Kauai Marriott Resort for a week, celebrating Frank's 50th Birthday, and relaxing before the new year.  We bought a half share (every-other-year) here about ten years ago, and have loved every trip.  It never gets old or boring, and though we had a moment's twinge of buyer's remorse after we took the timeshare plunge, we now look at it as one of the best investments we ever made.

Every time we come back to Kauai, we find something new to explore.  This time, we hope to take in some of the lush botanical gardens.  In the past, we toured the island in the past by helicopter, sailboat, and catamaran.  We will keep our feet firmly planted on the ground this time, and just enjoy our time together.

On Monday, we picked up a rental car to do some grocery shopping and hopefully check out some big waves on the North Shore.  Foiled by a traffic jam, we made it as far as Lydgate Park on the east side of the island, where the waves were not that big, but provided a beautiful view.  We used to come to this park several times during our visits to Kauai, mainly for the terrific playground and enclosed beach that are perfect for smaller kids.  

As we drove by the playground, Alex exclaimed, "I remember that place! I used to love it here!" 

At nine, a complex of slides and swings and tunnels doesn't hold the same appeal as it did at age 5, I guess. I was happy that he remembered it.  That is one of the nicest aspects of returning to the same vacation spot, having memories of the place, and looking forward to creating news ones.  When we arrived at the Marriott, the staff said, "Welcome home."  

So, we're enjoying our home-away-from-home this week, sipping mai tais and smoothies, and falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves.  I hope that wherever you are, you have a little spirit of aloha with you this week and in the coming year.

Santiago, Chile: Finding a Happy Place

February 11, 2004

We left Easter Island on February 10 and started back to California via Santiago Chile.  We arrived late in the afternoon, and Alex decided to have the worst temper tantrum of his life in the luggage claim area of the Santiago airport.  He tried to throw himself on the luggage conveyor belt, but we managed to stop him in before he was tagged and sent on his way to Lima, Peru.  Sometimes, traveling with a toddler is not all it's cracked up to be.

Santiago reminded me a lot of Los Angeles, a gigantic urban basin packed with buildings surrounded by mountains.  We checked into the Santiago Marriott, which was conveniently located across the street from a toy store.  It was Sunday, so Alex could do nothing more than gaze longingly out twentieth-floor window. 

Planning a Trip to Easter Island

If you're interested in visiting Easter Island aka Isla de Pascua aka Rapa Nui aka "The Navel of the World," be forewarned that it is far, far away from any main airport hub and it will take a while to get there.  Lan Chile flights out of Santiago, Chile leave twice weekly, stopping off in Easter Island en route to Tahiti.  Your choices for direct flights are either out of Santiago or Papeete, Tahiti.  Be sure to book your flights well in advance. 

Further, there are limited hotel rooms on the island, and no major American or European chains.  The hotels are locally owned due to laws preserving the rights of native Rapa Nui people in landownership.  When we were there, there was a big debate among the Rapa Nui elders as to whether or not to allow Club Med to build a resort there.  As far as I know, they didn't allow it.  Part of the island's charm is the vast expanses of unspoiled land and the ability to see moai around nearly every bend in the road. Most hotels would be classified as "motels" by American standards, or large bed-and-breakfast style guest houses.

Shopping in Hanga Roa, Easter Island

This post is part of a retrospective on our trip to Easter Island for the Tapati Rapa Nui festival in February, 2004.

After our day seeing moai in various states of completion and decay, we spent a few leisurely mornings shopping in the town of Hanga Roa and visiting the Rapa Nui Museum.  The town was in walking distance from our hotel, the Taha Tai Hotel, and featured some nice restaurants and shops. I enjoyed shopping on a quiet little street at the Mercado Artisanal, which featured handmade crafts of -- you guessed it, moai big and small. 

The Mercado is actually an open air market with little grass tiki huts with various vendors selling key chains, magnets, statues big and small, and other goods.  When we visited, it was a lazy day with not many tourists. The people working the stands were friendly and charming. They forgave my poor attempts at Spanish, and many of them spoke enough English to be able to barter and complete a sales transaction.

I met a woman from Connecticut at one of the key chain vendors, who told me that she came to this island every year for the past twenty years, and it was her favorite place on earth. The island is not that big, so there's not a huge variety of things to do, but I could certainly see getting attached to it and wanting to return.  We go to Kauai every other year for the same reasons, but it's only a four hour flight from California.  I admired her dedication in getting here every year, despite the travel.

The shops in the Mercado had a variety of wooden and stone moai to choose from, from tiny to about the size of Alexander.  I wasn't sure how anyone would pack a 4 ft tall stone statuary in his or her luggage, but I guess they could ship it home to you at some exhorbitant rate.  I opted for the ones that we could fit in our pockets or in the spare spaces in our suitcases, which were already pretty full from our trip to Iguazu Falls.

Buenos Aires: Where's the Beef?

 

February 3, 2004

One of the things Argentina is famous for (besides Eva Peron) is the incredible beef.  We had read about the steakhouses in Buenos Aires, and being big time carnivores, we couldn't let a day in Buenos Aires go by without trying a steak.  We had both read about La Estancia Restaurant in various guidebooks, which the website calls "A Hearth Burning in the Heart of Buenos Aires."

When you walk in, you see a large asador or circular fireplace with various kinds of meet roasting on tall spits surrounding glowing coals in the middle.  I've read that there is a floor show in the evening, but we arrived early (probably 6:30) and were the only ones in the restaurant.  Argentines tend to eat dinner later than we do, which was probably a good thing since we didn't know how Alexander would fare if we had to wait a long time for dinner.

Our waiter was a portly gray-haired gentleman wearing a jaunty neckerchief and a white apron.  He didn't speak much English, and we didn't speak much Spanish, so we just pointed and smiled and hoped for the best. He was friendly, and ruffled Alexander's hair and patted his shoulder every time he came to the table or passed it. 

Argentina: Star Quality in Buenos Aires

       

Casa Rosada or The Pink Palace, in Buenos Aires, Argentina

February 3, 2004

After our amazing stay in Iguazu Falls, it was time to explore another part of Argentina.  After an early morning flight from Puerto Iguazu, we checked into the Marriott Plaza Hotel in Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires was a short stop on our itinerary, but we decided to make the most of it.

Buenos Aires is a mix of old-world European charm and Latin intensity. I was struck by how ridiculously good-looking the people were, from the hotel desk clerk who looked like she just stepped off a runway in Milan, to the average Joes (or Juans) reading the newspaper in the park who could have been Antonio Banderas' long lost sibling.  We've been all over the world, and I don't think I've seen this many gorgeous people per capita anywhere else, even Beverly Hills (where the looks tend to be generated by surgeons rather than genetics).  There was something unique and interesting about all of the faces we encountered.

After checking in, we walked to Plaza General San Martin, a nearby park with some ancient metal play structures that Alexander could play on while I nervously looked on.  The equipment looked like the kind of metal structures I remember from when I was a kid in the 60's and 70's, with chipping paint (probably lead), and hard, unforgiving concrete underneath.  This equipment made me appreciate litigious American parents who have pretty much made sure that playground equipment is as safe as possible. 

Luckily, Alexander had fun without managing to kill himself or give his mom a heart attack.  Alexander had a great time playing on the slides, monkey bars, and running around, after spending the morning in airports, planes and taxis.  Sometimes, a boy just needs to run free.

Argentina: Sheraton Hotel in Iguazu Falls

January 30, 2004

After an exhausting overnight flight, we finally arrived in Iguazu Falls in Argentina and checked into our hotel, the Sheraton Iguazu Resort & Spa. In order to get to the hotel, you have to enter the Argentine Iguazu Falls National Park and pay an entry fee. We booked our room four months in advance, but even so, were not able to get a room with a view of the falls, and had to settle for a "jungle view" instead.  From what I'd seen of the jungle flying in, that would be just fine.

We pulled up to the hotel, which from the outside looked like some kind of inverted cruise ship or space craft.  The building is a set of tiered balconies, so that every room has it's own balcony view of either the falls or the jungle. The main floor of the hotel features large windows so you can see the falls off in the distance.

We were completely exhausted, sweaty, and crabby from traveling so far on so little sleep. It was 5 pm, and the restaurant didn't open until 7, so we checked into the room, cleaned up a bit, and watched some Spanish language cartoons.  It was all I could do to keep my eyes open, but I knew if I went to sleep when we arrived, I'd be up at 3 am with nothing to do.  We walked around the broad lawns in the back of hotel and had a wonderful view of the falls. Somehow, I managed to stay awake until dinner time, even though one of the comfortable lounge chairs called my name repeatedly.

California Missions: The Fourth Grader's State-cation

MomCentral is currently running a blog campaign on behalf of Holiday Inn to encourage people to get out and explore their own states-- a "state-cation," if you will.  I'm not a native Californian, so this idea intrigued me, since there is a great deal about the state I live in that I don't know.  I think I've hit a few of the high points so far (Disneyland, Hollywood, San Diego, Mono Lake, Yosemite, Napa Valley), but there's a great deal more to the state to be explored.

My son is in fourth grade this year, which as everyone who ever attended California public schools knows, is the Year of the Mission. Fourth graders across and up and down the state study California history. Many kids have to complete the dreaded mission project, which usually consists of making a model of one of the California missions from paper mache, matchsticks, salt dough or some other homespun material and drag it into school. 

I grew up in Ohio, where we made salt maps of Indian burial mounds, so I missed out on the missions.  One of my co-workers who grew up in California told me that it never occurred to her that anyone wouldn't study the missions, since it was a rite of passage for California school children.  She was shocked that I'd missed out on this rich cultural experience and instead had to study the eight inconsequential (with a few ignominious) Presidents hailing from Ohio, the two Harrisons (Benjamin and William Henry), Grant, Hayes, Garfield, McKinley, Taft, and Harding.

Thankfully, Alex's teacher isn't requiring the standard 3-D replica of Mission San Jose, but instead is leaving it up to the kids to come up with a project on the missions, whether it's a video, book, report, or scale model.  Maybe a blog would do.  Or a Facebook fan page. Or a series of tweets. It's a brave new world in education these days.

Since we're a family who pretty much uses any excuse to hit the road, this seems like a perfect opportunity to take a state-cation, starting with the most northernmost mission, the Mission San Francisco Solano in downtown Sonoma, all the way down to the Mission San Diego.  There are 21 missions in all, and each was supposed to be one days' ride on horseback from the next.

We're considering doing a Mission Tour (not on horseback, thankfully) this year, maybe for spring break, doing a day-trip to the local missions and then heading south to San Juan Bautista, San Juan Capistrano, and onward, until we just can't take any more.

If we do this Mission Impossible Tour, I'm sure there will be a Holiday Inn or two along the way, since they often have free wifi and swimming pools, two requirements for any hotel or motel we stay in, wherever we roam.  The wifi would be essential to logging in our progress via the blog, and the pool would be needed to knock the dust of history off of us at the end of each day.  We had good experiences last year on our National Park Tour with Holiday Inn Express, which were uniformly clean, comfortable, and affordable. 

Disclosure: I wrote this review while participating in a blog campaign by Mom Central on behalf of Holiday Inn. Mom Central sent me a gift card to thank me for taking the time to participate.

Photo: San Juan Bautista, taken by me in 1998.

Great Northern Adventure: Winnipeg, Manitoba

 

This is part 4 of a series on our vacation to Canada and Minnesota in 2002, before I had a blog. Eventually, we see polar bears. Honest.

November 6-7, 2002

After leaving the Land of 10,000 Mennonites, we drove back to Winnipeg.  Frank insisted that we stop at the Canadian Mint, for some unknown reason.  I stayed in the car because mints (other than the chocolate kind) just don’t do a thing for me.  Frank went in and was the only visitor.  He bought an ounce of gold, some coins and a stuffed polar bear for Alexander.  He said there was no one inside, and it was “quiet as a tomb.”  I started to sense a pattern developing on this vacation. I decided to rename it the "Quiet as a Tomb Tour."

After our brief stop at the Mint, we drove into Winnipeg to find the posh Fairmont Hotel.  On the outside, it was a tall, gray, nondescript building, but the inside was nicely furnished and the staff was helpful and friendly.  They were not ready for us when we arrived, so we drove to the Forks Shopping Mall, not far from the Hotel, right across from the train station. 

I bought a big red fleece jacket that said “CANADA” across the chest, like the wildly popular ones the Canadians wore in the 2002 Winter Olympics. I'm pretty sure now that actual Canadians didn't wear these jackets, but I felt a sort of solidarity with them. Plus, red is my color, so it was as much a fashion statement as political a political one. 

There was a small Manitoba Museum outside the mall, so we checked that out as well.  It had a stuffed polar bear, a buffalo, and some exhibits on Manitoba agriculture.  This was our first polar bear sighting on the trip, albeit a stuffed on.

When we got back to the hotel, they were ready for us, so we checked into our room on the 19th Floor.  We were on a Gold Level floor that had a special lounge for tea and evening drinks, along with coffee and pastries in the morning.  The floor also had its own concierge desk.  The people who worked at the desk took a shine to Alexander immediately and lavished him with attention. 

Great Northern Adventure: Steinbach, Manitoba, Canada

This is Part 3 of a series on our Great Northern Adventure 2002, in which we take a circuitous route to visit some polar bears in Canada.

November 5-6, 2002

After our exciting jaunt into North Dakota, we drove northeast to Steinbach, Manitoba.  Frank’s  ancestors were Mennonites, so Frank has always been interested in Mennonite history and settlements.  There is a large Mennonite population in Manitoba, and most of it appears to be centered in Steinbach. 

As we drove in, Frank noticed the car dealerships had the names like those of his ancestors, like Friesen and Penner, which thrilled him to no end.  I guess that gave the place an air of familiarity to him, but I was unimpressed.  I suppose I would have felt differently if they had names like “Choi” or “Kim." 

We found our way to the Frantz Motor Inn, which Frank had reserved in honor of his late Grandmother Tena Franz.  “Probably some distant relation,” he mused. 

The place had a creepy, “Twin Peaks” sort of atmosphere, with blood red carpet, beat up walls and dim naked lightbulbs swinging overhead.  There was something unsettling about the experience, like we might see a ghost wearing a polyester leisure suit or possibly see “Crime Scene” or "Biohazard" tape around one of the doors.  It may be somewhat telling that I can only describe these places in terms of old television shows—they seemed to be stuck in time, and in this case it looked like the place had not been redecorated for about 30 years. Our room was actually much nicer than the hallway led us to believe it would be.

We ate dinner in the motel’s restaurant, The Brass Lantern.  It was unremarkable except for the fact that the portions were huge and served on what might have been used as a turkey platter instead of a plate. It was just what we needed, more big bland food.  Alexander’s chicken nuggets were about the size of his 95% percentile toddler head.  We retired to our room and watched the results of the U.S. elections.  The Republicans appeared to be making significant gains in both the House and Senate.  We went to sleep depressed.