Category Archives: Travel
2014 January Miami and Fort Lauderdale, Florida
Beach Videos:
Coral Gables/Coconut Grove:
Little Havana:
Family gatherings for New Year’s, etc.:
Miami Holocaust Memorial:
Drag Queens on Ocean Drive:
Lazybear
My friend Roy and I drove back down the coast (although he slept most of the way) to get home from Guerneville, after a loop around Armstrong Woods early in the morning. The dogs have been there several times before, but I always try to find some beach time for them, and this was no exception. This was a new lookout for me. I’m always impressed by the beauty near Bodega Bay, and in Sonoma County, even though Highway 1 is tortuous and treacherous in the best of weather conditions.
Pictures here with me is my friend Ray/Ramon at the closing party for Lazybear. Guerneville vendors usually have clever signage during this event, but this one below was the best one I think I’ve ever seen.
Un Pochuchedru du Calabria
If you ever want to see my relatives in Italy laugh, speak to them in dialect. They are tending not to speak it in the newer generations themselves, but to hear ME, a straniero (“foreigner”), speak even a word or two, makes them roll over with laughter. To demonstrate to people how dialects are truly other languages, the title of this blog is a phonetic (since I’ve never seen Calabrese written) of the translation for “A little piece of Calabria” which in Italian would be “un piccolo pezzo di Calabria.”
In addition to my relatives, I spent a lot of time with their dogs and cats because this was getting toward the end of my trip and I really missed my Yorkies, who I had only seen once live from Rome with Skype and spoke to noticing that they recognized my voice. It was great to see most of my relatives there, and I got pictures of most of them, but a few of my uncles and aunts are having major health problems and are in the throes of their treatments. I also got to see two of my newest cousins, the daughters of Giusi and Ramona. It was strange being in Italy for the first time in my daughter’s life without my daughter there, but seeing my Mom and grandmother is important, although I see my mom throughout the year as she lives in Hayward near me when she’s not in Italy. It was nice to see both my mom and her mom at the beach too.
When in Roma…Boy Did I Fool Them!
I got to feel like a native Italian doing some grocery shopping to cook in my little kitchen, speaking the language and showing off how much better I am at it than most Americans, although I couldn’t speak it as well as the black, east Indian and Asian people I saw walking around in Rome who are the true Italians of the future as they live, breathe and literally eat their ways into the culture, which if one really thinks about it, was always multi-cultural. As you will see, I had to take a sign in Chinese on the street I was staying on. I even learned how to make espresso with the very clear illustrations in English on how to do that with the little espresso machine the apartment came with.
I did get to the Coliseum, as you will see, which happens to be by the nicknamed “Gay Street”, There are no official gay establishments to my knowledge in Rome, but there are some gay parties in various venues. Gay Street and the Ice Cream Bears establishment where I’ve been to before and had to see again, was walking distance from where I stayed on Via di Porta Maggiore. The only video I took was of the piazza inside the building where I stayed. You wouldn’t necessarily think that there were several elevators and hundreds of units with very high ceilings beyond these very plain doors facing the street, but the buildings aren’t that many stories high, after all.
I did stop by one of the more famous “gelato” parlors and got lots of good coffee while I was in town, not really getting an explanation but being secretly happy that there are NO STARBUCKS in Italy, not even in the airports.
I did Bear Monday, which was very well attended for a non-holiday Monday night, but some of the people I knew from online or would know online or who saw me on Growlr last year even came up to me there and knew who I was. I also made some friends who lived directly across the street from where I stayed, and it was helpful to use their electricity and internet when I had a fire in my apartment. There was an apparently electrical overload with the air conditioner when I went out for the evening, so there was some charred wall by where my head would have been. When I got back the electricity was off so I just went to sleep and texted the landlord, who was actually just next door. Meeting them and making friends with lots of the local Italian men was a great experience. I do feel very much more at home in Rome now that I ever did. The city itself used to intimidate with its crime and corruption, even when I had gone there with my ex wife and tried to buy something from a street vendor. Now I realize I have to be like a savvy New Yorker rather than a gullible American tourist, and truly let my passionate culture come out, even if I am only 5/8ths!
Renting a Pis…In Barcelona
The Brits say “flat” and the Spanish say “piso” (although that also means floor), but be careful when you say you want to buy someone’s PIS in Catalan, because that’s how they say apartment. I did so on Airbnb this summer. I was remarkably lucky to be right downtown and have a world class view, reminiscent of my childhood when my dad got an apartment on Governor’s Island overlooking the World Trade Center/Twin Towers, Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty in panorama…with ZERO rent.
Many of you heard of how I was bragging to other Anglophones on the train from the Barcelona airport how well I knew the city and then when I changed trains to get to Estacio Sants I forgot all of my clothes and a few other non-critical items in the overhead and, despite filing a report with the help of my Airbnb host, I was not able to find it. I only had the clothes on my person and lost all the other clothes I was planning to use during my five weeks of travel, although I was only half way through it at this point. My tablet, my ipod, beard trimmer and various other items were gone forever. Fortunately my documents and critical computer and camera components were all in my briefcase which I kept by my side. I have great friends in BCN who helped me right away to get shirts and another sack. Xavi and his friends also helped me get to a discount store to get a bunch of underwear and socks before things closed on Saturday (as nothing would be open Sunday). I also had a couple of great guys help me out with suggestions of what to see that I had never really checked out up close in my previous trips. Those photos are showcased here. In particular the. I also got in a lot of good relaxation and fun with the great nightlife they have there. The bear beach was fun too. It’s called Chernobyl. As you will see the decaying factory is why it is so nicknamed. It’s just north of the city, although there are great beaches in the city itself.
Berlin Bitte…but I’m not Bitter
Nein. Not only am I not bitter, I’m very grateful to my friend Thilo for showing me the amazing history and culture of Berlin, to the extent that was possible in a few days. Not knowing just how far we would be walking I got blisters the first day, but I did remember to wear my more comfortable shoes when we resumed our intense sightseeing. In these pictures there are a few buildings that survived the bombings at the end of WWII (very little of the city did). There are also wonderful contrasts between the eastern and western parts of Berlin, although very little of the actual wall remains and with each passing year the ability to recognize one side or the other will get harder. There are these cute little cars they have for rent which are made out of some kind of treated cardboard. Bears are the symbol of the city of Berlin (like peaches for Atlanta and apples for New York).
I didn’t even know that the TV tower existed in Berlin, but I went up it. There were also a few war memorials, including the Holocaust Memorial which I made sure not to smile while posing in (it is indeed somber, but abstract). I just didn’t have the energy to get to the gay memorial for the war. I did make it to Brandenburg Gate, where Michael Jackson’s baby was dangled in the nearby hotel, and where they were celebrating a French holiday, as that was part of the French-occupied Berlin. You will see the Sony center which is designed to look like Mount Fuji, and nearby there was a Lego giraffe. Lots of interesting things and some poignant commemorations to the people who lost their lives attempting to cross that damned wall that was there for decades.
In addition to getting a lot of culture in, I also enjoyed the gay night life mostly in Schoenberg, where I stayed. I was trying to pronounce things in German, even if I will never speak it. I also translated successfully the sign I’m standing below which advertises Teddybears as “a friend for life.” Like Iceland, pretty much everyone spoke English, which was almost too easy for an Anglophone, but on the last day when I was anxious to find my way back to the airport alone since Thilo had picked me up and I hardly had paid attention, no one at the closest train station, Wittenbergplatz, claimed they could speak English. In fact, they all told me this IN ENGLISH. Fortunately a nice guy walking around the station who apparently also worked there saw me looking at the maps and asked me in English what I needed and helped me get to the airport in plenty of time.
I Wish I Were Parisian
Since I was a little boy growing up in Catalonia, Spain for a few years, I have been going to France regularly, but it wasn’t until 1991 that I got to go to Paris and as I expected, I fell in love with the place. The last time before this year that I was in Paris proper was nineteen years ago, and I regretted that I never went INSIDE the Notre Dame, thinking it wasn’t all that impressive, but then realizing I missed the best part of the architectural wonder. This year, despite the long tourist line, I got inside (without cheating and pretending I was going to the mass). The timing worked out well, and I got to see most of the other must-see tourist sites that I had seen before. The other regret that I had when I was in Paris was that I saw everything through the black and white viewfinder. Not until weeks later when I returned and looked at the video did I realize how bright and beautiful Paris was, but I wanted to capture everything on videotape when I was there. I also remember having dreams about a whirring sound which I later determined to be the camera next to my ear on my shoulder for hours each day. This time I took it a little easier, finding it very easy to walk and going at my own fast pace, not fretting if I didn’t see all the best sites. I got to see everything I wanted anyway, although I did not have time for the Moulin Rouge or Sacre Coeur. For some reason I didn’t remember the entrance to the Louvre being in a plaza. I thought there was a road that went right by it. I wonder if that changed. I also saw a large ferris wheel, which reminded me of the large on in London, both of which are apparently new, permanent structures. I think it’s a clever addition to the downtown and tourist areas, because I imagine the views are phenomenal.
I had to take at least one picture of the women who throw themselves onto the Champs-Élysées begging for coinage. It was very shocking and depressing at first, but then I saw they were lined up almost taking turns with the dramatic stance. It was a very hot day, but they apparently make a statement of how poor they are by doing this.
I was also disappointed that there were lots of American chains including a very well patronized McDonald’s right there next to the Arc de Triomphe. I did think the Smurf advertisement was cute and it reminded me of the Despicable Me 2 advertisement I took a picture of in Berlin a few days earlier.
All that being said, I’m a huge Francophile and love the language. Staying in an apartment in Marais was a wonderful experience that helped me feel like a Parisian, especially when I got to the point that I did not have to speak any English and was able to understand the fast-spoke French that was being hurled at me by shopkeepers and friends alike. My native French friend Sebastien told me that I would be able to speak fluently if I stayed there a few months, which really thrilled me to hear. I know deep down that French is within my grasp, even though I’ve never had a lesson in it (but knowing Italian pretty well and having some good experience and a few years of Spanish helps).
I’m No Stranger to Londontown
In my various trips to Europe I have more and more frequently visited England. At first I wasn’t all too keen on it, because there were so many other places in Europe I found more intriguing and exotic, but like before, I decided to at least spend a few days getting to know America’s “mother country” a bit better. I think my daughter’s infatuation with London during her relatively brief two visits here with me a few years ago made me look at it in a different light. She was fixated on every moment we were there at how beautiful the city was and how European it was, yet she was not intimidated by the fact that they speak English (her “language” although she’s pretty darn fluent in Italian. I am actually fascinated by the intensity of London, which reminds me very much of New York, and it’s use of the English language in subtle ways that vary from how Americans use it. I also love seeing the variety of people, which nearly meets the variety one sees in New York. I don’t think it was quite this diverse thirty years ago. It is an expensive place, but I did have a great time meeting some great people and hanging out in the hot tourist spots like Waterloo and Soho. As you will see some of the local bears I’ve known in person or from the Internet invited me to their gatherings. At least ten of us went to the birthday party of my friend Richard Whent. It’s great how you can feel so at home in the bear community and how many people know each other from online or from their own travels and relationships, despite the distances and, in some cases, language barriers.
The place I rented was a little bit further out of central London than I would have preferred, but relatively simple to get to. I am a little disappointed at how early the nightlife seems to end here, as compared to other European places, even on the weekends in the summer. The weather was wonderful and where I stayed in Surrey Quay was very quiet, perhaps too much so, but lovely so close and convenient to stroll along the River Thames. This was my very first Airbnb.com experience and my host was great meeting me on the street on the way to the Tube to introduce me to his place and even providing me with the converters that I would need with my American appliances as I had neglected to remember that the UK does not use the same electric plugs as the continent of Europe (which even Iceland uses).
One of the cool new things I saw this time is the skyscraper called the Shard. I’m not sure of all of the history in the making of it yet, but it was quite a site to see rising from the skyline. In the video below you will see my Sardinian friend Marco giving me a bit of a tour. My little brother was born in Calgary where Marco is from and I met Marco several years ago when I was in London, so it was great to see him again and have him be one of my tour guides. I also got to practice my Italian with him, of course.
Trip of the Iceland
Ironically, when I was in Vancouver, British Columbia, my intention was to take the train down to Seattle to catch my flight to Iceland without having to do the San Francisco-Seattle portion of my trip. I also hoped to spend a day or two in Seattle itself, but the fascists at Iceland Air or Kayak or whoever is responsible for their Draconian policy, said that if I did not pick up my flight at San Francisco (where there had just been a major airplane crash), then my entire itinerary to Europe would be cancelled. So, ridiculously I interrupted what was supposed to be five weeks of solid travel to fly back down to the Bay Area for one night, slept in my bed and saw my dogs, and then got on another flight to go basically exactly where I was the day before (Washington State), and because of all of the chaos from the still littered runway at SFO, my flight to Seattle was late and I almost lost my connection to Reykjavik. I ran like the dickens and actually huffed and puffed to the gate, where I had nine minutes before departure (although the gate had actually been closed), but they were very sweet to re-open it for me and help me not ruin my entire itinerary and connection to London which would have been a day later and which would have had me miss my visit to Iceland almost entirely. I must have looked like a loon, but the flight to Iceland was so pleasant and roomy. It was like a dream that I actually made it, because if the Iceland flight hadn’t been delayed just as I had strongly hoped, I would have had a completely different trip to Europe with the rental car and airbnb reservations all collapsing in on me, not to mention the flights I would have had to rebook.
I had been thinking about going to Iceland for several years after hearing about a bear event hey had there in the geothermal pools, but I also knew that it was a quick flight from the Northwestern U.S. to get to Europe (probably the quickest) and a photographer friend of mine was fixated on taking some pictures of the landscape for good reason (not to mention the round the clock daylight at this time of year) which makes it a great place for films like Prometheus to be shot there in their other-worldly surroundings. I did some homework on driving in Iceland knowing that I could cover a lot more ground, in the company of my gracious online friend Jonni who hosted me and with whom I had a great time intellectually discussing the problems of the world with. He had lived in England and is very well-read, so he really was an ideal tour guide and wonderful person to show me around Iceland efficiently, although I know we just touched the surface. We did the “musts” like the Golden Circle and at least stopping by the outside of the Blue Lagoon (which he correctly noted was a tourist trap), but he also graciously took me to the coast and at least one small town so that I could see how “real Iceland” is, not to mention all the wonderful things the city of Reykjavik itself has to offer, as the cultural center of the people.
He had told me that he would wait for me if I went into the Blue Lagoon, but if I were to embark on such a task I think I would have rather done one of the other geothermal sites in town, although we ended up not going in. What I did find interesting was that they have to add cold water to keep the temperature of the geothermal pools down. As you will see, the weather turned a little blistery nearer the coast and we did at least stop by the outside of the Blue Lagoon and got some good shots of the less treated water and that was sufficient for me.
Besides the flies that I ate while talking at the various tourist spots (you’ll hear me after consuming at least one, but it didn’t get me to shut up enough for a few more to fly in), I did enjoy some of the more exotic things to eat. While I maintained my newly instituted vegetarianism while there, I enjoyed certain things like Skyr (a sort of yogurt textured culture that tasted great and apparently has been around over a thousand years) and some of the Icelandic candies like these licorice dots covered in chocolate. My host Jonno had never heard of edamame which apparently was part of the pesto and truffle popcorn truffle selection of appetizers we had al fresco around midnight in broad daylight in downtown Reykjavik, so I was able to teach him a little something that was prepared by the chef who was a woman from two difference countries that were very far from Iceland (I believe France and the Philippines).
I didn’t have time to visit the famous penis museum, but it sounded a bit cheesy anyway. Did I really say that?! We did take an amazing walk all over downtown by where Jonno lives, and I got a wonderful taste of some up close foliage and the amazing variety of architecture. Of course there is the famous vertical airplane shaped church that is the landmark of town where I attempted to pose like the statue out front and where within we were just in time for a great organ player to commence, so I got that on video, but there were other churches (none Catholic, interestingly) and a variety of other structures, including the ultra modern all glass concert hall I took pictures in front of and within. Lots of the buildings had wonderfully bright colors, although they were shielded with metal if you look really closely. There was art and graffiti everywhere, as well as professional murals and creative use of bikes as fences, and plenty of abstract art to go with it. I tried to notice everything, including the unique crosswalks. When walking downtown we saw Iceland’s famous musician (not Bjork!) who is a rapper of mixed heritage walking right in front of us. While the lesbian prime minister they had is no longer in office, it was interesting to note (on the tourism info I read) that all Icelanders can trace their roots to the originally settlers in 780 A.D. and everyone uses their first name, including the president. At their very large gay pride festival, which is mostly attended by heteros, the hetero mayor of Reykjavik goes in drag. A third of the entire country of 300,000 attends.
I do remember some things that I found interesting about the little town off the beaten path that I liked. First of all, the drivers there are very courteous, but I do advise anyone going off the main roads at all to look at some YouTube videos on safe driving in Iceland, even in the summer, as they have a lot of gravel roads. I had an accident many years ago in California because of gravel on the side of the road, so I was nervous, and I guess it makes more sense for them to have a lot of gravel roads because of the extreme weather conditions between summer and winter. In any event, we went for coffee, because I was driving (an automatic hybrid vehicle which startled me because at the time I did not know the power shut off when you came to a standstill) and the time change was not helping me stay awake at all. The young woman at the coffee shop in this little town probably had very little chance to use her English so she quietly asked me if I wanted the coffee to “take with” in a little mousy voice. I smiled and said “Takk” although Jonno was there if I had really gotten stuck linguistically. What was disappointing, though, was the Domino’s Pizza and other chains that were all over the place. It’s no wonder that a lot of people say that Iceland looks more commercially like America than Europe.
So you will see the Geyser (the only word in Icelandic to ever become an English word) and the famous waterfall and continental divide (where Europe is splitting from America) where the oldest and still active parliament started meeting in European history. I made sure to include some signs that were in Icelandic to demonstrate the uniqueness of the language. I found the people to be so wonderful and accommodating (unless you are talking to Iceland Air customer service on the phone when your cell phone battery is about to die and you are about to miss your flight and you are roaming so all bet’s are off). Dionne Warwick was in town when I was there and she was bitching on the news about how she couldn’t sleep because it was so bright out. Give me a break. Even when I realized that it looked like noon and we were eating dinner close to midnight, I chocked it up and figured I’d only sleep a couple of hours before I had to drive back to the airport, return my car and catch my flight to London. It was an adventure and it was cold (considering I didn’t bring any heavy clothes with me because 99% of my trip was going to be in warm weather). I found a gas station outside of the airport and continued to use my GPS to find my place to the car rental and returned it with a full tank. Because of the banking crisis everything, including the car rental, was dirt cheap anyway, so even if I had to pay the extra fuel fare I would have been fine.
One of the coolest moments I had was not hearing Italian spoke by the tourists downtown, but as we approached the entrance to the Blue Lagoon I observed a woman who had dropped a piece of paper. I picked it up and handed it to her and she instinctively said, “grazie” to which I replied “prego” and then I asked her and her husband in Italian where they were from (Genova) and they in turn asked where I was from. When I said “California” they asked how I spoke Italian so well to which I explained it was my first language and my mother is Calabrese. What a weird connection, though. Of all of the types of tourists with all of the cruises there, and all of the languages to have heard that day, that I would have an encounter with an Italian who spoke in Italian to me, before even seeing my very Italian-appearing face, outside of Reykjavik (albeit at a tourist spot).
What I didn’t anticipate on my way back through Iceland a month later was that there would be an asshole on my flight to Seattle who would start throwing punches at all of the flight attendants an hour into the flight. He was a drunk man of Icelandic heritage who they had to turn the plane around for and so I actually landed in Iceland three times during the trip, so they could arrest him after restraining him with plastic handcuffs. It was in the news and everything, but it caused me to miss my connecting flight to San Francisco (irony of ironies) and miss another day of getting to sleep in my own bed with my dogs. At least they paid for a hotel for me to stay in with my overnight stay in Seattle. It was really cool seeing the space needle immediately below as we flew over. I couldn’t sleep, though, so I basically checked my email and then took the shuttle to the airport to catch my early flight, where my friend picked me up and we kept on driving after I repacked with the dogs all the way to Guerneville for the last leg of my journey!
