2017

2017 was a terrible year.  The last thing I wanted to do was dwell on more racism, sexism, and Trump.  Doesn't really make you want to type things, you know?

Let's focus on the good stuff! I made my dad's lifelong dream finally come true: Hawai'i.  It's a beautiful place with a beautiful spirit.  And for a $600 plane ticket, it was a no-brainer. All four of us went, with Jadek spending 15 days with the 'rentals.  I was worried - I shouldn't have been.  Everyone got on and we had a lot of fun.

2017 also had us knee-deep in house stuff.  The basement flooded in late 2016 and so we spent a lot of 2017 recovering physically and emotionally (mostly emotionally) from that.  New roof, stonework out front... it was nesting in all its glory.

So, 2017 slithered away.  Despite some significant highlights, it was a trying year that I'm happy to see the back of.

ontari-ari-ario!

Last month, I got to scratch TWO items off my travel bucket list: touching the southern-most inhabited point in Canada and driving the world’s longest road (albeit, this fact is contested).  All this because we cancelled our Egypt trip. …wait, I didn’t tell you we cancelled?  Or that we were even going?  Boy, I have been away.  Let’s get caught up.

(Egypt: we booked this last December, when it was cheap and everything relatively quiet.  Egypt has been a military dictatorship for a long time and the Arab Spring just seemed to be another bump in its turbulent history.  Fast forward to August (14th, specifically) and we balked.  A thousand people dead?  Trains cancelled?  Closing of the Pyramids?  Why even GO to Egypt at that point.  So, we cashed in our travel insurance and stayed in (nice, safe) North America.)

West Dock

Pelee Island: Our first stop for two nights.  It was everything I thought it would be and then some.  Small enough to circumnavigate (by car) in about two hours and friendly as all heck, we had a great time there.  Fabulous sunsets, delicious local wine, and even the crippling walk to Fish Point were real highlights.  It has really become a competitive spot for my retirement plans (displacing the established frontrunner, Stratford).  Of course, we’ll have to return a few times to make sure the enchantment doesn’t fade, but there you have it.  We left reluctantly.

A quick dart through the US to get us back to Ontario.  Lowlights include: Scary Gary, Indiana.  I have never been so uncomfortable in a first-world country in my life.  Terrible.  And so very sad.  Chicago traffic… ugh.  But the sunset drive into Minneapolis almost made up for it all.

Rainy River

Yonge Street: used to be known as the longest road in the world.  The stupid Ontario Highways Act stripped that title on a technicality.  It’s still the longest contiguous road (not highway).
- Rainy River: km-marker 1896.  The water wasn’t drinkable, but the motel was cute and the service was good.
- Day-long drive to Thunder Bay: two nights in TBay, a surprisingly large city (108,000 people!) where amethyst is so plentiful they give it away (literally, our B&B hosts just hauled out a buckets and told us to take a piece). Sleeping Giant National Park, Terry Fox Memorial, and delicious well water – what a great stop.
- Kapuskasing/Moonbeam: a halfway stop to our next destination.  We went there for the strange lights.  It was so dead dark, we played the “where’s my hand game” and marvelled at the amazing stars.  Thankfully GiPpS was lit up, or we may have lost our black beast of a car (Bruce… or BRWS).

North Bay, Sunset Inn Dock

- North Bay: a surprisingly beautiful spot that was so typical cottage country, every picture looked like a CanLit book cover.  It truly tugged at my heartstrings and was poignant enough to displace Turtle Bay from my iPhone.
- Queen’s Quay: km-marker 0.  The last 23 kms took as long as the previous 323 to cover.  But we made it.  Plaques were climbed; pictures were taken; plaid shirts were worn proudly.  We got home in one piece, exhausted but happy.



Ontario is one beautiful province.  I think I forget, living in the Golden Horseshoe, just how gorgeous this land of many lakes can be and how welcoming its people are.  Alberta has the Rockies, BC has the Pacific, Maritimes have the Atlantic, Yukon has Kluane, NWT has Northern Lights, Nunavut has polar bears and Quebec… well, Quebec has a je-ne-sais-quoi.  Ontario?  Ontario is what Canada is all about: loons, beavers, moose, lakes, rivers, pristine beauty and friendly people.   Come visit.

just around the bend

road trip: great lakes

Here's what the rough itinerary looks like. 

This is really two mini-trips in one: Driving the old Yonge St/Hwy 11 from start to finish and touching the southernmost point in Canada - Pelee Island - all in one.  Turns out that in order to do that, we'll circumnavigate the Great Lakes.  It's like a real-life version of Ticket to Ride.  Except we drive.  4000 kms, 8 days, 1 car.  We really can't do anything in half-measures.  Stay tuned, poppets.

hot in cleveland

This weekend, I'm spending four days in Cleveland at Digipalooza 2013.  It's basically a corporate-sponsored event by our eBook provider.   Honestly, an eBook Support conference.  So far?  Awesome.  A painless drive by our lead-foot chauffeur had us cruising in almost ninety minutes early.

A leisurely check-in followed by the discovery of the following things:
1) my room is apparently huge - king-size bed, conference desk, cutest little club chair and ottoman; the bathroom has enough room for all my nonsense to spread out.
2) there's free wi-fi, but only in my room, so yay!
3) I only need four minutes to completely unpack, including getting the soap out of its packaging.

We wandered about downtown Cleveland for a bit, getting our orientation down.  (Their great lake is north of the city).  Had a well-earned lunch at Zocalo, complete with a frozen guava margarita.  Took a two-hour break before registration.  (I wanted to nap, but worked on my Staff Conference session instead).

Tonight, there was a mixer.  I'm not too good at big crowds of strangers.  Thankfully Cooper and TheFields were there to be excellent company.  We found a table strategically placed near the (open) bar and snack table; this worked, because we attracted two fellow white-belts (first-time attendees) and descended quickly into geekery galore.  A fun evening full of fantastic confabulation:
1) The Three Stages of King: "Which Stephen King book is the best?" ... "Real question: is he even worth reading?"
2) Even amazing books are sometimes flawed: "Harry Potter plotholes. They exist."
3) At the movies: "It has Robots.  And monsters. What is there to NOT like?"
4) Mixology: "Gin tastes like pine cones.  No, Christmas trees!"
5) In TV Land: "Is J.J. Abrams done already?  Was he done halfway through Season One of Lost?"

An early evening back in the room.  (American TV has a LOT of randomosity.)

expectations

I have, what some polite people may call, an eclectic family.  Actually, I have, what I call, a crazy family.  And just when I think I’ve come to grips with my history, something happens to blow my mind.  Way more on that later.

I took a four-day jaunt to visit my family in NYC.  Yes, four days.  I actually don’t like visiting that particular branch, but not for the reasons you may think**.  They’re gregarious, funny, honest, and totally down-to-earth.  I have spent many a hour on the phone with my Aunt, in stitches from her daily commentary on life.  She can’t get through a sentence without swearing – and the kind of swearing that would put a sailor to shame.  I learned so many interesting ways to cuss while in her home.  Her youngest son is only a month younger than me: when we were growing up, we were inseparable.  We played Thundercats with such vigour that we broke beds, bones, and boundaries with equal panache.  He’s now about to be a father, something I can’t even begin to fathom.  My Aunt’s only daughter – whom they always just called Daughter (even in Christmas cards) – is pretty much a loser.  She abandoned her two eldest children almost ten years ago.  My niece and nephew, whose father is an equal deadbeat, were brought up by their uncles and grandmother.  They had a hard childhood and I always worried for them – this was the branch where no one had even finished high school, forget college.  (The boys all landed on their feet, they work crushing hours to make a decent living.)  The elder, my nephew, dropped out of high school.  No surprise.  I am very happy to report that he wrote, and passed, his GED.  He’s a talented boy, a tattoo artist and skateboard designer – but works in a Manhattan kitchen.  The younger, my niece, graduated this June.  With Honours.  Scholarships to schools.  Of course, I had to be there to see her get that diploma.  Not just me, but my whole immediate family.  So, no option for a hotel.  Stayed we did.

It was a lovely ceremony (all the way out in Long Island!), staged in a huge gymnasium for only about 150 kids (but at least 2000 family members).  Graduation is a big deal there.  For this school especially, which had gotten used to a 65% graduation rate before becoming chartered.  This year, they boasted an impressive 95% graduation rate, with almost 80% of those kids getting some sort of scholarship.  Wow.  Her future was bright indeed.

Was.

You see, on the surface, this is a feel-good story.  Fighting the odds to be the first high school graduate in her family – with honours in health sciences, no less – surely she would be fine.  But the truth is, this is a story about family values.  A story about the importance of caring parents, strong role models (both mom and dad) and the absolute need for boundaries.  Sure, I’ve gotten into my fair share of mischief.  Who hasn’t.  But I had a strong dad, one with a steely grip on my freedoms – just enough slack to explore but yanked back real quick when something untoward was happening.  Like, when I had a boy in my room and I had closed the door.  Never mind that he was my gay best friend, that we were sitting at the desk using the computer – that was the end of that.  Or how about when I got a henna tattoo on my arm at Canada Day; even after I showed him it was washable, he wasn’t happy until it had all come off.  My mom said it best: you had a strict dad and you didn’t really need one.  My niece does.  But it’s hard to be strict when you work 60 hours a week and are only about ten years older.  Even harder when you don’t live under the same roof.  And my Aunt?  Well, she was never much for discipline anyway.

So now, my niece, whose boyfriend has been sharing her bed for a month, has decided to defer her education (and lose her scholarships).  She’s decided to work as a cashier in the same Manhattan eatery as her brother.  When Dad tried to turf her boyfriend on behalf on my Aunt, my niece left the house and wasn’t heard from until she knew my parents (namely, my strict Dad) was gone.  I’ll give them this – no one ever talks back to my Dad.  He has a lot of authority.  He’s that guy, you know?  Boy, did she need that guy growing up.

I had wanted to help plan her first year away from home, make lists of things she’d need, talk about my own dorm experience and what she could expect.  I wanted to take her shopping in Manhattan – just the girls – and make a day of it.  I guess I had her frozen in my mind as that sweet nine-year-old who was so starved for affection, that she literally clung to me the minute I walked in; who asked quietly if she could sleep with me on the tiny twin bed; who delighted in berry-flavoured sparkly chapstick.  That was my mistake.  Turns out, she’s stubborn, rude, and dismissive – typical teenaged stuff that’s easily addressed by good parenting.  This is what happens when you don’t have parents looking out for you.

Who would have thought a family trip to NYC would become a morality play?

**Why don’t I like visiting?  In short – they’re slobs.  I’ve never been in a house that filthy.  And I genuinely think they try but actually have no concept of clean.  I’m a finicky person and thus entirely uncomfortable staying there overnight.  I’ve been to NYC many times, and am happy to take the E train to Jamaica-VanWyck for a visit.  That’s about all I can handle. 

the briars

 In a complete turnabout from where I was the weekend prior, last weekend was spent at The Briars Resort & Spa. It’s a great getaway on the shores of Lake Simcoe, where you can golf, bike, swim, and hike to your heart’s content. I went with three friends (with whom I also happen to work) – I had travelled to Cuba with two of them, so I knew it was going to be a good time.

We got there Friday afternoon, after a leisurely drive up Woodbine Ave. Our ground floor room faced the lake and was conveniently situated across from the indoor hot tub/pool, next door to the bar and about thirty seconds from the restaurant. I recommend the Leacock Wing. Had a good walk about the ground before dinner, which was (and every meal, really) amazing. We wrapped up the evening learning euchre and playing hearts.

India

Last week, I spent eight days exploring the Golden Triangle of India (mostly from the comfort of an air-conditioned bus). It was a whirlwind affair, with quick stops in Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. Much like a buffet, we sampled delicacies in bite-size offerings and still came away full. Travelling companions Jadek, Nish and MrsC were good company, as were new travel-mate friends.

I was pretty sick before leaving, so the flight over is a blur of antibiotics and pain meds. I really thought I had irreparable damage to my hearing (especially since it took a full two days before my ears popped). I do remember the food being good and Jadek being an excellent pillow.

Within about twenty minutes of being out of the Indira Gandhi International Airport, Jadek had already relinquished his luggage to a non-Indus Crew member. We learned quickly: everyone is out to make a buck in India. And I mean everyone. From tuktuk drivers to street peddlers, from legit state emporium stores to our very own tour guide – it was, as my parents would say, a moneymaking racket. However – for the price we paid to go over ($2350!), I couldn’t have reproduced that trip. Heck, I could barely get a flight and a hotel for that. So, there we were, ready to embark on our very first “canned” tour.

Everyone asks for the highlights.  It's difficult to pick, really.  But, here goes.

taj mahal

Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory.

passage to india

In less than 48 hours, I will be winging my way back, back, back to the near-motherland: India.  The golden triangle in specific, which includes Delhi, Jaipur, and Agra.  I know this seems crazy, but I've only spent two nights in the country that neighboured by birth land (n Calcutta, no less).  It will be whirlwind, a mere eight days (for 36 hours flight time, that seems insane, but there you have it).  As is tradition, I have brought myself down with cough and relentless fever.  So, I haven't packed or done anything except secure my visa and my inoculations.  I intend to spent the next 45-hours-and-counting drinking soup and sleeping.

Am I excited?  Yes.  It's been bucket-list item of mine to see the Taj Mahal.  Everything else is cherries.

The Golden Triangle

Also, nervous. 

koibumi to Japan

Mount Fuji, from Otsuki Station

It was a glorious twelve days in Japan, full of sights and sounds and smells and tastes and wonderment. I have been sitting on this post for weeks now, trying my hardest to encapsulate what was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Mostly, I've been coming up short. So, in typical copout fashion, I came up with a list; my only consolation is that I think my Japanese friends will appreciate the format.

Organisation: so, it’s no secret that the Japanese are uber-organised. Everything has its place, every cubby labelled and every action accompanied by a little note (or a paper crane, whatever). I guess it’s the motivation behind this organisation that surprises me: comfort. Despite not knowing the language (like, at all) or the customs, I found that the signs and symbols and sometimes downright meticulous instructions were a big help to me. There were arrows on stairs to tell us which way to walk up in crowded places, tiles on the floor to tell us where our train car would be and how to line up, detailed breakdowns on Ryokan etiquette (how to tie your yukata, take a bath, wear your shoes)… I know. I know, it sounds crazy. But let me tell you, it made it so easy to navigate.

Hawai'i

Turtle Beach, North Shore, Hawai'i

People say Hawai’i is paradise and we all sort of roll our eyes. It’s a tourist trap in the middle of the Pacific, more like. Until you get there. And then you realise that it really is paradise. Here’s the thing about Hawai’i: it’s perfect. The weather rarely strays from the 19°C-25°C range, with a light breeze that blows almost non-stop; the people, who embrace their reliance on tourism and yet who are first-world citizens as Americans, are friendly and customer-service specialists; and the scenery … well, it’s spectacular. From lazy turtle-strewn beaches to seething volcanoes, from peaceful sunrise to striking sunset, from crazy Waikiki to the sedate North Shore… O'ahu feels like a peaceful dream, from which you never wish to wake. Few places merit a second visit. This is is one of them.

AnCe and I spent a week on the Hawaiian Islands. Our first full day was spent on the North Shore, swimming with sand sharks (and one very intimidating barracuda). It was a lovely day, spent driving about the island with the top down in our red Mustang convertible, wearing bathing suits and sunglasses. Typical. That sunset was so surreal, it felt like a movie. We spent the next three days on various tours, exploring O'ahu and spending a day on the Big Island, walking about Volcano National Park. That was amazing (note to self: buy book on Hawaiian legends). If I do go back, I think I’ll spend some time hiking the volcanic floor. On Thursday, we rented another car and drove the circumference of the Oahu, even venturing Farrington highway until it ended, enjoying the crash of the surf that was oh, so close. Friday we boarded our flight and said aloha.

***

A note about Customer Service.

On Stage @ Stratford, 2012

Can't believe I didn't tell you about this poppets!  Sometime in May, between Quebec City and Boston, there was a quick trip to Stratford with AnCe.  After gorging on theatre last year, this year's offerings were fairly light, so we popped into the Bard's House for the day.

Up first: MacHomer.  Really, this was the only reason we even went out there this year.  A one-man performance where are all the characters are from the Simpsons?  Yes, I'm there.  Aye Carumba, it was amazing.  Rick Miller is pretty much genius in this and he was so lovely and generous with his time after the show.  He even thanked us for playing hookie from work.  

Second show was the Pirates of Penzance, which was okay.  If anything, it made me google the "I am the very model of a modern mahjor general" song - though that song is a lot longer than it needs to be. 

A quiet day.  Looking forward to 2013.

AnCe's luggage checklist

Seriously.  This is the handiest thing I've posted in years.

I travel.  It's a thing I do.  My luggage has been on borrowed time.  After coming back from Vegas the last time, some ramp rat tore the top handle (and my cute M&M luggage tag) clean off, ruining my favourite suitcase.  With Japan looming, there is no question that I need a new suitcase.  And since I do travel, it was time to make an investment.  I come from a long line of travellers: I have FIVE aunts who are retired air stewardesses.  Five.  I learned a few things from, but it mostly pertains to actual packing (I can fit a week anywhere into one small carry-on).  When it comes to luggage, I turned to AnCe.

Poppets, I shall now share with you her wisdom.

m.conferencecall

(This is my first mobile post. I expect many hilarious auto changes.)

In beautiful and (finally) sunny California for the ALA conference. Unlike the superconference, I don't really know anyone here at all and the gives me a lot of free time in between sessions. Like now.

I am struck by the ordinariness of the attendees as well. Every Feb, we play drinking games called Hip/Cats, where we take imaginary shots whenever we see a hipster librarian or a genuine cat lady. A conspicuous absence of both in California, where everyone is just.. average.

Also, for such a BIG conference, there's a real lack of tech. Last night, at the SciFi session, the moderator actually had a Word document up on the projector with a link to the survey. Hello ... QR code?

surprises

Across the street from the happiest place on earth, taking stock of what I've learned today.

Bahstin, Mass.

AnCe and I flew into Boston over the long weekend for a quick three-day jaunt. We left on a 0700 flight on Saturday and were checked in by 0830. Wicked.

away

Assignment #6: away

Sometimes I wonder if taking a holiday is really a good idea. Sure, I come back refreshed, full of stories and food, carrying memories – but really, all I do is think about the next trip, the next flight, the next bag to pack. If I could find a way to travel perpetually, to spend my life out of a suitcase, I think I’d do it. At least, for a while.

Of course, this is where cognitive dissonance sets in. You see, by nature, I’m a nester. I like my hearth and home. I like the idea of having a bed to call my own and bookshelves brimming with staycation adventures. I like baking and decorating and curling up in front of the TV to watch reality shows about islands or dancing. And yet… and yet.

je suis arrivée

Today, I returned to Vieux Québec; the last time I was here, I reaffirmed my love of not just all things French, but of this beautiful country with its rich (and so often forgotten)  history.  Jadek and I packed up and left the 'Saug at 0500, making the 8-hour trek to Quebec City; it was a great drive, with excellent passenger relations.  We chatted about Warcraft and read "Discover" magazine articles for a lot of the trip and passionately discussed topics like Einstein's Theory of Relativity, unsolvable math problems and dreams posed by the impatient futurist. Only two yawns on the entire trip.  Also: one tank of gas!  Go Bella!

Route 66

I returned from the Route 66 trip on September 11th and I'm only just getting to post about it now.  Many apologies poppets.  A number of things conspired to keep me from you - Book Fest, Accounting, Work and mundane things like cleaning the bathroom.  Here follows a brief breakdown of the highs and lows that was The Mother Road.

Chicago

Day One: Mississauga to Buffalo to Chicago (by road and then air)
AnCe, Jadek and myself climb into AnCe's car and make our way to Buffalo, where we catch our half-price plane to Chicago.  It's amazing to me that the 40 minute drive has us $300.  Each.  I LOVE my hometown, where if I fly straight home, I'm in my PJ's within 30 minutes of landing (with no connections!) and where, if I'm being cheap, I can cross the US border and catch a plane to anywhere in the States for half the price.  Anyway, we land in Chicago (I marvel at how, really, all airports look exactly the same) and are reunited with Nish, who had landed the day previous, coming from Madagascar (!!).

Day Two: wander around the beautiful Bean Town, with its amazing architecture and yummy food.  Th boat ride is a great way to explore the City.  We pick up our car rental (Nissan Rogue) after almost ninety minutes waiting for it.  At least we get a $250 "discount" (i.e. we're not charged for the extra two drivers).

The Bean (or Cloud Gate)

Day Three: early start to see the Bean (aka Cloud Gate) in Millennium Park.  I absolutely LOVE it.  I want to take it home as a souvenir and plonk it down in the Commons near my house.  Alas.  We pack the car and begin the search for the official beginning of Route 66; after 45 minutes (!!) of driving in circles we find it... barred from access by construction.  I laugh so hard I'm easily crying.  We do find a historical marker as a substitute, so that works out.  Today's final goal is Marshfield, Missouri by way of Lincoln's tomb.  849 kms later, we're there - after 2200 hours.  We also learn the Pontiac lesson today: do not trust any R66 signs that have dates - these are merely senseless detours.

gettin' my kicks

On Tuesday, we leave for the one of the last great road trips: Route 66!  Spanning nearly 3000 miles  (that's 4500 kms for the rest of the world) and taking us the better part of eleven days, we'll be departing Chicago and going west until we hit Santa Monica pier.  With so many detours in between, we broke Google Maps, you can see our major pit stops (read; where we bed down) in that picture up top.  This is the first adventure for AnCe, Nish, Jadek and myself - four people, one car.  Should be interesting at the very least.