California Triptych

US & Canada

It feels like my last post was forever ago, especially since I’ve been living out of a backpack for the past two weeks in various Californian locations. More on that shortly. But first I want to note the fun Chicago meetups which happened before I left, especially dinner and drinks with Ellen and Emilie, having Marte and Alex over to play board games (even though we didn’t actually get round to playing any board games, but we did learn how competitive Marte would have been) and McKenna and Rusty’s ‘leaving’ party. I mean, they really are moving to Berlin, one assumes. They just haven’t actually left yet.

California stops

California stops

So, California! This was a three-part escapade which I have illustrated with this hastily labelled map:

1. Palo Alto
As you will know if you’ve been following along, this was for work. For our purposes, the most important thing is that I had my regular catch-up with Nolan, this time over fried chicken and waffles and beer. Also, the guy in the build-your-own-burger place learnt my name, which is a little worrying. I don’t come to California for the salads.

2. San Francisco
That relationship-building with Nolan in step #1 was critical, because for the weekend I borrowed his apartment in San Francisco while he was away. Kudos to his roommates for (a) being great and welcoming, (b) encouraging me to steal their baked goods, (c) not calling the police when they thought I was slowly breaking into the apartment, and (d) having an electric kettle.

Jonah and Julien!

Jonah and Julien!

While in SF (which, I must say, was a joy to walk around) I was lucky enough to hang out with not one but two cousin families. On Saturday night I had dinner downtown with Jamie, Paul and Lori before Jamie and I saw Weightless, a rock opera retelling of Procne and Philomela’s story from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Not being cultured enough to have read Ovid (sorry) I was not sure what to expect, but it was really, really good. We especially enjoyed the narration from an unidentified Greek god, and the music was engrossing enough that I was tempted to buy the CD afterwards despite not actually having any way to listen to a CD anymore. (Thankfully, there were other options.) It’s the kind of production which obviously takes years of work to put together, and if this ends up touring more widely, I recommend seeing it.

The night afterwards I hung out with Jonah, Staci, Julien and Desmond in their local Oakland kid-friendly sort-of-pub, which was really lovely and a great opportunity to plant the seeds of future travel in the minds of the next generation.

Dear Lori, Julien and Desmond: one day, the odds are that you’ll want travel to distant cities and countries. We’ll be ready and waiting with the free sofas to sleep on. Lots of love, your older cousins.

Finally, a grateful shout-out to the Mechanics’ Institute Library & Chess Room of San Francisco. For a mere $15, you provided a quiet place in the city to sit and read, and you were well worth it. I feel so old.

3. Yorba Linda
Finally, Randi joined me at her parents’ house in Yorba Linda for her mum’s 60th birthday and surprise party. My role in the surprise was minor and slightly embarrassing (I had to hide in the toilet so that we wouldn’t leave the house too early) but I was happy to play my part. Happy birthday!

We also escaped a bobcat. That’s two wild animals which haven’t killed us so far.

The hills are alive with the sound of... bobcats

The hills are alive with the sound of… bobcats

"And that's how I think I could have taken the bobcat out"

“And that’s how I think I could have taken the bobcat out”

Happy birthday!

Happy birthday!

Last night, a miracle occurred in Dallas airport. Randi and I were having dinner before our flight home. It was Katie’s annual Chicken Caesar Salad Day, so I was providing the chicken and Randi was bringing the Caesar salad. I got up to find the loo, and ran into our server who pointed me down the airport corridor, “about 25 metres that way”. I thanked him and went on my way, and it took me a few steps to realise… metres? He said metres?

I asked him about it later, and he explained that he studies engineering and “thinks in metres” before suppressing a thinly-disguised shudder at the “other measurements”. This is encouraging. This is the spark of the future. If the metric system can infiltrate Texas, it’s only a matter of time before the US goes the whole 8.23 metres and converts.

If you recognise this road, you were really paying attention in GCSE History

If you recognise this road, you were really paying attention in GCSE History

We were in Dallas and the surrounding metroplex (the actual term) for Randi’s grandmother’s birthday and a mini family reunion. I already knew most people (although hello to the person who only knew me from this blog!) and it was especially fun to see the youngest cousins again. We stayed with Randi’s immediate family in Grapevine, a town with a cheerful and extensive main street which includes an impressively stocked ‘British Emporium’ for some reason, but we did briefly venture into Dallas proper to visit Dealey Plaza and the Sixth Floor Museum. This is the infamous ‘Texas School Book Depository’ from which JFK was shot, a tragedy which presumably could have been averted by arming school books with machine guns. (Back in Grapevine we passed a guy wearing an NRA baseball cap, and in my superhero fantasy I was able to confront him rather than tutting behind his back and donating to Everytown to make myself feel better. Take that, anonymous man!)

Pancake Day 2018

Pancake Day 2018

Earlier this month, it was Pancake Day! Unlike Chicken Caesar Salad Day I am no less than 100% committed to Pancake Day, as this video surely makes clear:

This level of coordination might explain why I slipped and fell on the ice in Chicago last week, gifting my thigh a giant ‘nebula purple’ bruise (©Katie Self) and giving me a great excuse to lie back on the sofa and watch the Winter Olympics. It has never really occurred to me to watch the Winter Olympics before, but at Randi’s urging I gave it a try, and aside from the ice dancing it was pretty great. This was also a good moment to see Icarus, an incredible documentary which we were lucky enough to watch in a cinema, by a filmmaker who stumbled into an amazing relationship with the lab director at the centre of the Russian doping scandal. I was dimly aware of the doping story, and had obviously noticed the Russian athletes competing under the ‘Olympic Athletes from Russia’ banner, but understanding the events which led to this moment was eye-opening. Highly recommended.

And when you’ve done that, you have to watch the three-part BBC series on IKEA, Flatpack EmpireIt’s totally compelling, and it’s the type of cosy BBC2 programme I need more of in my life.

We saved the world

We saved the world

Also in the last fortnight: a traditional Valentine’s Day at La Scarola, a dipping of our toes into watching The Crown (I could be wrong and sometimes the origin of phrases can surprise you, but it felt very wrong to hear about Churchill on the “campaign trail”) and a winning game of the co-operative Pandemic with Toggolyn. Although it was touch and go in the end. If there’s a real global pandemic I don’t think we are the people to call.

This past weekend I had a “mystery weekend” on my calendar courtesy of Randi, which I figured was probably a trip to somewhere either (a) objectively interesting to visit, or (b) in a new state. On Friday night it turned out we were on our way to Atlanta, which ticks both boxes! What follows is our busy 48 hours in Georgia’s capital. Ignore all the grey skies and raincoats… in comparison to Chicago, it was basically tropical.

Welcome to Atlanta!

Welcome to Atlanta!

Visual metaphor for the rain

Visual metaphor for the rain

So, a couple of things about Atlanta. As its Wikipedia entry notes, the city was burned to the ground during the Civil War, before regrowing to prominence as a well-connected railway hub rather than a classic southern seaport city such as Charleston. Walking around, therefore, it doesn’t feel so different to a typical Midwestern city, aside from the large number of construction signs which begin with the word “pardon”. (“Pardon our progress!”) That said, it was pleasantly and surprisingly walkable, and the city has invested in some dedicated walking/biking routes as well as a rapid transit system. And to Georgia’s credit, Atlanta is the state capital rather than a town in the middle of nowhere as often seems to happen. I suspect, however, that the politics inside the golden-domed Capitol building is quite at odds with the city around it. There are still four large plaques by the entrance, erected by the “Daughters of the Confederacy” in 1920, retelling the capture of the city by the “enemy” Union forces. Travelling in the age of Trump can make you twitchy about such things.

Wouldn't win any prizes in a Historical Argument & Practice essay, but still

Wouldn’t win any prizes in a Historical Argument & Practice essay, but still

Because fact into doubt won't go

Because fact into doubt won’t go

This was particularly true on the tour of CNN’s global headquarters, which is one of the major tourist attractions in the city. In ordinary times, I wouldn’t exactly be a CNN ‘fan’, but this is 2018 and the world is a strange place, so we went on the tour. At first everything was lighthearted and jovial, our guide cracking a joke at the BBC’s expense in the same way the guide on the BBC Broadcasting House tour will throw shade at CNN. But then a solitary guy in a leather jacket starts asking repeated questions about political bias before launching into an intense monologue about news “propaganda”, while the poor tour guide puts on a neutral listening face and murmurs “fair enough” and I wonder if we’re all about to die. I’m not sure if this guy was expecting to stumble across the top-secret Fake News studio on a public tour, but it was a good microcosm of the era we’re living through.

My "always pleased to see a railway" face

My “always pleased to see a railway” face

Later I got cocky (and then wet)

Later I got cocky (and then wet)

Oh, Jimmy...

Oh, Jimmy…

Atlanta is also home to the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library, so I was excited to expand my celebrated art series of stupid poses with presidents. Disappointingly, though perhaps in keeping with the humble legacy of the Carter administration, the best I could find was this photo on the wall. (Later I found an actual statue outside the State Capitol, which made up for it.) The most striking thing I learned about Carter was that his Oval Office furniture arrangement was all out of whack, with back-to-back sofas and a desk in the middle of the room. Clearly things were never going to go well with that layout.

The most significant figure from Atlanta, of course, was Martin Luther King. The National Park Service maintain a historic site including a museum, his birth home and the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church where he preached. If you visit you can sit and listen to a recording of one of his sermons, and I like to think it wasn’t a coincidence that they were playing the one where King warns against cynical advertising of cars a week after the very same speech was literally used to sell cars during the Super Bowl.

An actual statue!

An actual statue!

Ebenezer Baptist Church

Ebenezer Baptist Church

A puffin!

A puffin!

We had planned to see the World of Coca Cola, but there is a limit to how ‘ironically’ you can do such things, so we opted instead to see the cool fish, amazing dolphins and cute puffins at the famous Georgia Aquarium. And while I realise this is an awkward-as-hell transition, it does remind me of the excellent seafood place we ate at on Saturday night too… 😳

Other food highlights this weekend included the obligatory fried chicken with biscuits and gravy [sic] and Mary Mac’s, a giant ‘tea room’ with a home-cooked vibe. I wish we could have stayed longer, because I’m not done with their side plates!

Fish, searching desperately for the plastic they are used to

Fish, searching desperately for the plastic they are used to

Choose your own adventure

Choose your own adventure

Atlanta, you were an awesome surprise.

Like Florida, I had Pennsylvania down in my mind as a state left in an untidy state. I had visited the city of Philadelphia before, back when I looked like this…

At the Liberty Bell!

At the Liberty Bell!

…but another trip was required, so I could make it ‘official’ and take lower-quality pictures of grown-up me with the same underwhelming Liberty Bell like this…

Back at the Liberty Bell!

Back at the Liberty Bell!

At the Magic Gardens

At the Magic Gardens

…so that is exactly what we did. Together with Mike, Randi’s friend from New York, we enjoyed a whirlwind but quite glorious weekend in Philly. I’d forgotten how much I liked the East Coast! Since we were only there for one night we stayed in a ‘proper’ B&B (the kind with cooked breakfast and free wine in the evenings) as an extra treat, right in the historical centre, which put everything within easy walking distance. We saw the quirky Magic Gardens, took an excellent walking tour, hung out by the harbour, ate lunch at Reading Market, visited Independence Hall (“we don’t really know what the actual layout was, and this isn’t the original furniture, since the British burnt it all”) and were treated to lunch by my something-something-somewhat-removed cousins Roger and Lily Ann. Oh, and before leaving I made sure to eat a proper Philly cheesesteak too. All in the sunshine!

There is a lot of history here, but 'Franklin walked down this alley' is pushing it

There is a lot of history here, but ‘Franklin walked down this alley’ is pushing it

Our walking tour guide outside (surprisingly cheap) historic homes

Our walking tour guide outside (surprisingly cheap) historic homes

Ice cream: easy to obtain, harder to eat

Ice cream: easy to obtain, harder to eat

Lunch with Roger and Lily Ann

Lunch with Roger and Lily Ann

I turned up too late for my constitutional input to be recognised

I turned up too late for my constitutional input to be recognised

The most unexpected experience, however, came in the last few hours of afternoon wine at the B&B. In the living room, a cheerful couple from Georgia introduced themselves, explained that Southerners will always start up conversations with strangers, and told us that they were on a trip to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. Things got a little weird when they started to enthuse unironically about the ‘life-sized’ Noah’s ark in Kentucky, and it soon became clear that we were sitting opposite two bona fide creationists.

“Were you brought up in the church…?” asked the man. You have to understand that he had the sweetest, kindest face you can imagine, sounded a little like Bill Clinton, and we were all having a warm and friendly conversation. So we certainly didn’t want to start fighting with them. Randi parried the church question with her Jewish upbringing (which earned warm smiles and much praise for Israel) while I tried to use “I’m English!” as a euphemism for ‘godless heathen’.

I really wanted to gently introduce the a-word at some point, just so they could go home and tell their own stories about meeting out-and-out atheists at a B&B, but sadly I never quite worked up the courage for fear of derailing the vibe. Instead, when Randi and Mike left to catch their bus to New York, the couple asked permission to say a prayer over them for their safe journey. Later, once Randi and Mike had gone, the three of us tiptoed around the topic of healthcare together, and I saw again how the “some people are cheating the system” feeling can be so overpowering of all other rational consideration.

To be clear, I’m not trying to mock them. They were obviously wonderful people, and while I’m sure we were not that far away from reaching more uncomfortable topics, they actually said nothing ‘offensive’ on the Great Culture War issues you can easily think up. But I did feel sad, because creationism always makes me sad, and despite being sat on a sofa opposite them we might as well have been on different planets. No possible way to get through. As a human being, it’s a terrible thing to not know what you are, what you’re made of, and were you came from. (That’s why the moment Buzz Lightyear discovers he’s a toy is so devastating!) And yes, I know they feel exactly the same way in reverse.

At the Kingston Mines with Rhi

At the Kingston Mines with Rhi

Earlier in the week, back in the secular bubble I inhabit, I had a birthday to celebrate! Randi prepared a carefully curated list of restaurants to eat at, and naturally I picked our nearest Indian place because (a) I’m unimaginative, and (b) Cumin is really and truly delicious. For a few days we also hosted Tash’s friend Rhi on the Chicago stop of her around-the-US trip (by train, obviously). We wanted to make sure Chicago made a good impression, so lined up a blues night at Kingston Mines plus Like It, Love It, You’ve Gotta Have It at Improv Shakespeare. (It was a particularly good production, as two dairy farmers sought revenge on the King for murdering their cows.) Rhi is the kind of sophisticated, thoughtful traveller who has already written her own blog post on the visit so you can judge for yourselves how successful we were on Chicago’s behalf.

I had high hopes for New Mexico, officially the 25th state on my travels around the US, and it did not disappoint. The state boasts a distinctive look, great food and for my money the best state flag… so what’s not to like?

Welcome to New Mexico!

Welcome to New Mexico!

In Santa Fe, the buildings really are all this colour

In Santa Fe, the buildings really are all this colour

We ate a lot of food like this

We ate a lot of food like this

We flew in and out of Albuquerque but spent the majority of time in Santa Fe, which is smaller, more touristy and quite lovely to walk around. Thanks to the Spanish, the city is built around a central plaza and (gasp!) is not just a mindless grid of roads, although – in a sign that the tourism thing might have gone a bit far – approximately 95% of the shops are art galleries. We went on an eccentric walking tour with a guide whose train of thought was a little indirect, but he was very personable and took us to the ‘miraculous staircase’ at the Lotto Chapel. (Basically, the idea is that St. Joseph – yes, that Joseph, of Mary & Joseph – returned to Earth in order to finish off some building work in the 1870s.) And as a bonus, the walk back to our AirBnb was dark enough that we could see a fair number of stars at night.

The central plaza in Santa Fe

The central plaza in Santa Fe

Note all of the chiles

Note all of the chiles

Poking my head into a Pueblo home

Poking my head into a Pueblo home

The best part of our trip was our morning at the Bandelier National Monument, combining some light hiking with a bit of ladder climbing to look at Pueblo homes – between 400 and 900 years old! – carved into the side of the canyon.

Afterwards we drove to Los Alamos, home of the Manhattan Project to build the world’s first nuclear bomb, and visited the World’s Worst Museum about the whole thing. OK, maybe not the very worst, but the introductory video is mind-bogglingly badly pitched. One would have thought it would be possible to celebrate the scientific advancement of nuclear technology, acknowledge the obvious horror and devastation of its use on Japan, and then give different points of view on whether it was, on balance, a necessary evil.

Instead, I’m not even sure it would be obvious to a child that anyone does die when a nuclear bomb is dropped – there’s just a quick cut to US civilians dancing in the streets. To add insult to injury, the narrator bizarrely declares that “all” of the native people cleared off the land to make way for the Manhattan Project were “happy and willing to do so for the war effort”, as if they conducted a survey. I cannot comprehend why you would even bother lying about this. You’re not going to get a 100% approval rating for bringing in cake to work, so why say something so transparently unbelievable? Get a grip, Los Alamos.

At the Bandelier National Monument

At the Bandelier National Monument

Inside the Alcove House after many ladders

Inside the Alcove House after many ladders

The t-shirt was a risk, but it paid off

The t-shirt was a risk, but it paid off

We returned to Albuquerque from Santa Fe the same way we had came: by train.  That’s right, an actual train slap bang in the middle of the sixth-least densely populated state, with $9 tickets you can buy on your phone, on a railway which has only been operating since 2006. If it can be done here, no one else has any excuse. By our final day we were pretty exhausted, so took a leisurely walk around the Old Town, sat and listened to a fetching rendition of The Winner Takes It All on some wind instruments (no sarcasm, it was pretty good) and sat in a diner watching a muted, subtitled episode of General Hospital. (We were perplexed by this show in so many ways, but most noteworthy is that zero scenes actually took place in or around a hospital of any sort.)

Albuquerque Old Town

Albuquerque Old Town

The world's creepiest petrol station

The world’s creepiest petrol station

Halfway there! 😉