"Get out of the way, Tourists!"

shouts Patrick the Photographer as he prepares for some shots at Ke'anae Bay. It is our first day in Maui and we spent the day doing the drive to Hana Bay, stopping at various trails, waterfalls, and beaches.

Too Goody-Goody for Sin City

Alas, Patrick and I went to Las Vegas last Friday night. After proudly,conveniently and meticulously packing heels, a dress, bikini, some makeup and 50 sunblock (sheeit, how do you think my skin looks so good at 35??!)in a purse so that I wouldn't have to carry hardly anything I drove to P's house and waited for him to come from work. Time was ticking away and I was getting anxious about Friday traffic. He still had yet to pack even!! I reflected that why is it my last 2 boyfriends are such procrastinators when it comes to traveling and I end up being all stressed out and barely making flights - that is NOT me, at all!!

Of course, once we DID finally get to the airport and it was our turn to check me in (P had done his online already, but I couldn't for some strange reason) - I realized that in my packing so lightly I neglected to put my wallet and ID back in the purse!!!!!! I almost cried. And I must admit P could have gone off on me but took it very well - my good nature must be rubbing off on him- he he he. I did tell him to go on without me, and I would get a cab to his house where the wallet was and then try to get a later flight that night or next morning. He kept denying but I insisted. So we got back in line and at our turn I told the attendant I forgot my ID and was there any later flights I could go stand by on? Amazingly enough: he informed me that Southwest Airlines, indeed, will let you fly sans ID (!!!!!!!!!???) HOLY COW!! We were shocked beyond belief! I just had to go through secondary security and have my bag searched and me patted down. No sweat! They always do this to me anyway (no matter who I'm flying) as I look "Iranian" or something - sheeit.

So would you believe we made it?? As I sat next to P on the flight and told him I am just happy to be on the plane, he hilariously commented, "I finally got you figured out, E..." he began. "You are so low-maintenance that you are high-maintenance!" It was pretty funny, indeed (if ENTIRELY incorrect!) :)

A short time later found us in the McCarron Airport where we began walking towards baggage claim. Just as I commented to P, "We should look out for (friends) Mik and Stef.." I suddenly hear the thunderous sound of my ex Italian Miky running barefoot holding his fliflops down the corridor towards us with Stef about 10 feet behind yelling directions to him, "Go left...LEFT!!!" I already had known they were leaving Vegas the time we were arriving more or less and it was hilarious to see them like that. As it turned out they missed their flight but were able to catch a later one. Whew!

Enough of the excitement already. We stepped outside to the reality that Vegas was in a heat-wave. At 9pm it was over 100 degrees!! Ay, que calor!!! We had just enough time to get to our hotel, The Tropicana, minutes to change and meet Patrick's old navy buddy and roommate, Gary, and his wife, Shane, for dinner at the hotel New York, New York.

I had already heard some of the stories and adventures of living in North Park 15 years ago with Gary and some other buddies. And I had been warned of his sarcastic, but witty personality. But as I told P later, the minute I saw Gary and he opened his mouth I thought, "Another one of those gay STRAIGHT men!!!" Not sure if you understand that term I've used for years now but it means a man who is Straight but has some Gay mannerisms in speech, or dress, etc etc. My ex Mark was a proud gay straight man. So was Mik. Now, both these ex boyfriends are completely heterosexual, but it's true! And Patrick although not as obvious, DOES have a couple metrosexual tendencies at best.

Back to Gary.. he and Shane are newlyweds and expecting their first child this summer - she was glowing in her pending mother-to-be status - well, that and sweating in the heat :) Gary took us to an Irish place called "Nine Fine Irishman" because he hadn't had a Guinness with P in 15 years. The food was alright, but the drinks strong and it was quite a fun evening hearing stories of how everyone met, and the old days with P in the Navy. Gary is a big man in the hotel bar and restaurant industry in Vegas and he is as we speak on a plane now to live in China for 3 years (Shane will join him after their girl is born) where he is helping open some Vegas sister hotels there. Not bad for an ex ganja-smoking, skirt-chasing, beer-guzzling sailor boy from the South! It was a fun evening and I was very glad we got to see them before they leave on their huge adventure in China and parenthood.. By the time we left them it was getting pretty late. We went into the casino and Patrick sat down at Roulette (the only game I have gambled on - if you read my Lake Tahoe blog - link - from November). He won and lost and came out $40 on top before calling it quits. Hungry again we walked to the nearby Hooters Hotel (I never would have guessed there exists a Hooter Girls Hotel) - for him to get 99 cent shrimp cocktail and i had a fabulous slice of apple pie before calling it a night after 2am - ummmm!

After sleeping in Saturday we hit the downstairs cafe for breakfast (no buffets for us this trip - it's a waste for me, I just can't eat that much). Then we went back upstairs for another food-induced nap - hehehe. Well, in his defense P has been working really hard lately. I was glad he got to catch up on some sleep! And it was just so hot outside that we didn't even want to spend all day at the pool. But eventually we went down to it and grabbed some chairs in the shade - P is Irish after all - I didn't want him burning in the 111 degree heat! I understand there are a couple new trendy pool places (onethat's even topless and comes highly recommended by Italians Mik and Neno) but we had no desire for that scene or the $40 cover charge to get in. Leave that to the young, single folks. That said lots of chatting and relaxing on the chairs ensued and eventually P suggested a cocktail - returning with 2 football-shaped containers full of ice, juice and a tiny hint of rum (I felt nothing and I'm a lightweight). After a couple hours of still talking and sipping the sweet punch we finally went back upstairs to shower and get ready for a night out.
Previously mentioned Stef (sales rep for Leblon cachasa rum in San Diego and Vegas) very generously left us a $50 credit at hotel Mirage to use on their mojitos and Brazilian caprihinas. So after getting changed and walking slowly down the Strip we made our way to Mirage, stopping to look in hotels and casinos on the way. It was slightly but noticeably cooler that evening - I love walking around Vegas at sunset! It's fun to people-watch and as Shane had said, "You know you are in Vegas when you've seen Elvis, a bride and a bachelorette party." Well, we DID!

After some yummy drinks we walked back up the towards our hotel - a long haul! Our feet were starting to hurt and we were thirsty when P bought one of those ridiculously huge margaritas that took both of us 20 minutes to finish together! It also, by the way, had a tiny amount of tequila in it. Jeezus - I am a lightweight and we were paying over $15 for those drinks - and NO buzz?!!!
We went into the Paris hotel and P played more roulette and ended up winning $220 - almost paying for his plane ticket! I simply enjoyed myself watching, (no gambling for me) and people watching and spending time with my man in his retro bowling shirt - so handsome, my Patrick! *sigh*

So here is my take on Vegas: I love the desert heat but it was too hot this time of year to go. Also, I am definitely NOT a partier, drinker or gambler, so I can't really say I love Vegas. In fact, should I never go back, I'd be just fine. Don't get me wrong - it's very unique and interesting to people-watch. But it's NOT my cup of tea at all. I MUCH prefer all my past trips that involve hiking, camping, foreign languages and nature of some sort. I don't know if it's because I worked for years in the bar industry or that I model and am 35 or what - but I could care less about seeing women bursting out of their dresses, trying SO hard for attention and men having to spend all their money on women who might not even give them their number. Blah. If I had more money I would have definitely gone to see the theater shows - Phantom of the Opera, Spamalot, the Cirque du Soleil for axample.. and I would have gambled maybe $100 on roulette. But that's that as far as anything different than what we did.

That said, I'd go anywhere with my man. At least once..he he he

Ireland Day 4 - Aran Islands (Inis Mor)

After our lovely drive through the Midlands and the West, we finally arrived to the city of Rossaveal where a ferry makes several daily runs back and forth to the 3 Aran Islands that straddle the mouth of Galway Bay in the Atlantic Ocean. This was an incredible treat for both of us (Patrick had never been there yet either).

To give a little history and insight about this must-see attraction, the Aran Islands are pretty much made of limestone rock and form a natural break in the water. The largest of the 3, Inishmore, is the most tourist-oriented and was our destination. It is 9 miles long and 2 miles wide with a population of 800. These islands have, mind-boggling, been inhabited long before recorded history and still contain pre-Christian remains. Another very noteworthy fact is that the islanders speak Irish daily here - this is known as the Gaeltacht (although pretty much all inhabitants were bilingual English speakers as well). It is one of the last places in Ireland where the ancient Celtic language is preserved. As a matter of fact, the Government evidently subsidizes people to live there and to retain and teach the Irish language and traditions.

After a 40 minute ferry ride we docked at the Island's pier. The bad news was that it began to downpour on us. Our previous luck with the weather had run out. It was miserable, cold and wet. Of course, Patrick had scoffed at me packing a small umbrella stating that no one uses them in Ireland. Well, when we found out that we had a 20 minute walk to our B&B would you believe that P actually accepted that dumb umbrella of mine after all??? If that wasn't funny enough, it turned out the umbrella was on it's last leg and broke, blown inside out as P cowered under the pelting rain. ha ha ha!! I took out my camera to record but didn't get too far as my battery died :( See below

As we kept walking (and uphill) to our Bed & Breakfast hostel suddenly a car that drove past us, stopped. We ran forward and jumped in. A kind but sweaty bohemian-type woman about my age coming back from yoga took pity on us in all that rain and drove us the rest of the way to our hostel. So kind. I had never hitched a ride with a stranger before :) Our B&B, the Mainistir House, was economy budget, but colorful with pink, lavender and teal painted walls. Dripping wet, we checked in at the front desk with the owner and supposedly creative and imaginative chef, Joel - a gay Frenchman of African descent.

Well, if one knows me or reads my blogs they know I get along with and enjoy gay men's company. And they 99% of the time adore me. But not bitchy queens. Joel was just that. Bitter and bitchy, he didn't greet us, but took our money and told us where our room upstairs was with a most disinterested air and turned up his nose, not wanting to be of any help, when we asked questions such as what pub plays traditional Irish music at night. We finally retired to our room where we were elated just to get out of our wet clothes. Upon that I commented to P, "Did you notice how bitchy the owner was??" He agreed that had I been perhaps more cleaned up, I would have gotten my usual reaction from a gay man. Our mood was not enhanced by the continuous pouring rain. Patrick, especially was quite broken up about it stating that is was the worst day of our trip to rain so - because the Islands are meant to be walked and cycled outdoors - they aren't as up-to-date on modern conveniences so there was nothing to do BUT be outdoors. I pleaded with him to keep a positive outlook that hopefully it wouldn't rain the next day, but our night was definitely ruined. We didn't dare step outside in that black rain. There was nothing else to do but go to bed - at 8pm. The next morning, still jet lagged, we awoke very early - before anyone else in the hostel and on the entire Island for that matter. But the good news: it stopped raining! Knowing it could start again at any moment, P rushed me grabbing his camera. Now that we could actually see things and we loved it! The Island was full of small fields separating each other by stone fences called "Famine Walls". These essentially were limestone rocks piled on top of each other during the years of the Great Potato Famine as labour so to earn money for food by the government. The Island was completely delineated by these rock walls. I gazed at them thinking of the hard, physical labour from starving, weak hands and bodies that made these walls many years ago. It was very humbling.

Within these rock-walled properties would usually be some old, abandoned, rotting shelter alongside a newer, more modern one (undoubtedly helped paid for by the Government subsidizing). I mean, the Island is wild, windy and beautiful in it's bleakness, but who would voluntarily live there? - we pondered. Evidently it has long attracted artists, writers, filmmakers, philologists and antiquarians. And that was evident in the artist colonies and shops that we walked past that early morning just past dawn. Interesting to note: we saw no sheep on the island - just cows and horses in the pastures. I point this out because a huge tradition from the island is the Aran Sweater - a traditional sweater knitted from sheared sheep wool and then dyed. First used long ago by the island fisherman, the sweater is made up of different stitches which each family had to represent their own individual sweater.

After a medium walk and P taking tons of early morning pictures, our rumbling stomachs made us return to the hostel. Upon entering we were hot and thirsty and there was a large sign clearly stating, "Free cold drinks" with some arrows pointing to the dining area. We definitely were up for that and I saw Joel at the front desk scribbling on some paper. I approached but patiently waited for him to finish writing. That said, he made me wait a LONG time - to the point that it was awkward. He obviously didn't want to deal with us and seemed clearly irritate by our presence. In fact he never looked up, said good morning or anything outside of raising one eye to look NOT at me but at the small sign next to me that said, "Reception hours 9am - 9pm." It was about 8:30am and he was making it quite clear that he did NOT have to help me with anything at the current time. He even left his post without saying a word and I followed him, slightly annoyed myself at this point, "Your sign says, 'cold drinks'.." I started only to be rudely cut off with a queeny roll of the eyes and muttered, "No!" We couldn't believe his rudeness and vowed to never recommend anyone to his B&B ever. Gay snap to that!!

After a bland but free breakfast with a bunch of noisy French families who kept stealing our toasts in the toaster - we left again this time to rent bikes at the pier. This is the major tourist thing to do. I love riding bikes and rarely do so - although some of the hills proved to be a little tough for my old man. We set off on the small road that goes around the entire island and stopped off at places, buildings or ruins of interest. The island was definitely beautiful - very different than all the other more modern places on the mainland. But I wouldn't stay for more than a day and a half there. One doesn't need to. Within a few hours we had biked to everything worth seeing and had leisurely taken our pictures. It was fun and definitely worth the hard work when we had the ascents to peddle or walk our bikes up. Inis Mor has 4 perfectly preserved Celtic stone forts. My favorite was the spectacular triple-walled fort of Dun Aengus. It is supposedly one of Europe's finest prehistoric monuments dating somweher between 4000 and 1000 BC. (CHEEENGADOOOOOHH that is a long time ago!!!) Sitting on the edge of a 200 foot terrifying cliff that drops into a turbulent but gorgeous sea crashing against the rocks far below - the fort was breath-taking! I am not good around heights and it amazed me that they don't put up some sort of barrier to stop people from slipping to their deaths! Even Patrick was somewhat nervous sitting on the edge of the cliff. I mustered up the courage to get on my knees and peek over the ledge to snap a picture of the crashing Atlantic far below. YIKES!

Alas, our long day came to a close with a stop at the pub for P's pint and the last ferry back to the mainland. Click on slideshow below!

Ireland - Day 3 - Aran Island

A Couple of Irish Asses

If you read the Ireland Day 3 blog, you read about the donkeys who, after being pet and photographed, followed us into our car! I pushed them out, took my seat and they still stuck their heads in my window to seek out goodies! They charmed the pants off me! :)

Northern Ireland - Day 1 - Warrenpoint, Carlingford

Okay, okay so that I may look back fondly years from now in this journal-blog of mine, I now prepare to detail my little adventure with the Leprechauns!

After flying into the Irish capital of Dublin, P and I rented a car and drove the 1.5 hours to County Down inNorthern (Occupied) Ireland where he is from. This is when I first was struck at the sheer numbers of fields dividing the country land and how green it all was. Soon we headed towards what used to be a barricade check-point with troops of armed British soldiers: the border between the North and the South. It was absolutely mind-boggling to me that Patrick not only grew up in the violent years of "The Troubles" of Northern Ireland but that his border hometown was right in the middle of it!

Warrenpoint, is a quaint, relaxing eastern seaside town of about 20k. It has evidently become very popular to settle and retire in and housing prices have soared along with the numerous new housing constructions. It has 2 piers and there is a lot of fishing done there. There is also a charming square with beautifully landscaped park and playground for children along with a bandstand that holds concerts in the summer. I was also surprised to learn there are quite a few golf courses throughout the land. I admire those that don't let the rain and cold stop them. Unsurprisingly, Patrick has a huge love of the sea as he grew up right on the water in a former 3-story hotel that he and his mother occupied while his father was often out to sea. Although somewhat strange that he should share such expanse alone with his mother, the undeniable fact is that he had an amazing view from his bedroom window high on the top overlooking the sea and his daily playground was the water. "I know every rock on that shore," he commented as he tossed a smooth rock, skipping it across the water with the ease of someone who grew up perfecting the pastime. It struck me that, of course, Patrick could only have become a world-traveling seafarer himself growing up in such a place and following the footsteps of his father and other men in his family.

After perusing the small town and shoreline, we drove to the very nice neighborhood that his parents now have settled in for 15 years. Completely different than the seaside hotel, this was Irish suburbia at its best. All pointed-roof houses were identically made from red bricks and impeccably landscaped - although I never did get an answer as to who does the landscaping when there aren't any Mexicans around to do it. Patricks 'mudder' (mother) was just as I expected: petite, generous, very hospitable and very Catholic. His American dad was the antithesis of his son: needing to be the center of attention and full of stories and opinions that had to be heard - he loves an audience and appreciated the engaging, polite one that I was.

After a most enjoyable hearty meal of vegetable stew and a loaf of fantastic freshly-baked wheat bread, we hit the hay for a bit before going to Saturday night mass with his folks. This was very interesting to me as I have enjoyed attending Catholic mass now in Mexico, Peru, Italy and Ireland as well as the USA. They do much less singing in Ireland - which made the mass only about 40 minutes long - no complaints to my jet-lagged self. The priest was young and I was pleasantly surprised to see he had a good sense of humour which he applied in his homily. Also, interesting to note was that they now use alter girls as well in Ireland (one would just assume they are too conservative and traditional to do so there, I mean, for Pete's sake - they barely made divorce legal in 1997!) I definitely got some stares there as there aren't many brown people or foreigners in the north - much less Latinos. I also didn't want to start any rough business for P by giving the wrong signals to the boys there in those smaller towns, so I was pretty frumpy and muted - NOT me at all - during my stay in the north.

That night we drove to a nearby medieval town of Carlingford to walk around and visit one of his old pubs. Patrick informed me there are younger, hip and modern nightclubs and bars now in Ireland but neither of us desired that as they are frequented by inebriated youth that have nothing better to do than start a fight. The pub we entered was small, old-fashioned and traditional with a low ceiling and mostly men. I laughed as I pointed out that I was the only one NOT drinking Guinness or a pint of some sort. Making me stand out all the more, he he he. Some things just can't be avoided after all, I guess. :) Click on slideshow below!

Warrenpoint, Ireland

Erin Go Bragh!!

Today I awoke from Patrick's call, "Top of the mornin' tew yew!" and off to Ireland we go!

A spiritual time in Sedona, Arizona

By the time I visited this lovely desert haven, my Italian ex boyfriend, Mik and I had mutually decided that after close to 5 years it just wasn't going to work out. It's hard to move on from someone you are so used to and who knows you at your best and worst. And here I was just shy of turning 30 and for the 2nd time in my young life having another relationship of 3+ years end. That said, Mik and I were still on good terms and meanwhile, he had very generously (and without my being consulted!) invited his childhood friend, Neno, from Italy to live with us for a few months. After about 1 month of this very crowded setting Mik and I decided we needed some fresh air and took a free couple days at a timeshare resort in Sedona, Arizona. Like I said: we were still on amicable terms and we definitely already knew how to travel well together. (We also both needed a break from taking care of Neno - whew!) So this was to be our last trip together before I moved out.

I came to love Sedona's awesome beauty. I HIGHLY recommend it - the Spring is perfect! Summer, I hear, the heat is almost unbearable to be outdoors, and I know that it snows in the winter. We were there during perfect weather. It was right up our alley (neither of us like cold vacations). One of the big draws to Sedona are the natural red tones in the region. Driving and exiting the freeway, heading west after a couple bends in the road you suddenly spot the majestic red hillsides. You can imagine how picturesque it can be at sunset. Everything is red!

We stayed free at the Hyatt Pinon Point timeshare. Wow - what a great place! Definitely the nicest timeshare we had stayed in. It was set up like an upscale condo - complete with large kitchen (we saved money by driving to a nearby store and mostly cooking inside the whole time), living room, 2 TVs, great stereo system, fireplace, huge bathroom with huge shower, separate large round jacuzzi bath with jets, tile flooring, patio and balcony with great view if you were on the 2nd or 3rd floor like us. We didn't go but there was also a gym and the pool with 2 Jacuzzis were beautiful and modern.

As nice as our housing was, the real treat was being outside in Mother Nature. Another big draw of the majestic red mountains is the fact that for whatever reason Sedona is a major vortex capital in the world. A vortex is the funnel shape created by the motion of spiraling energy. The vortexes in Sedona are swirling centers of subtle energy coming out from the surface of the earth. They characterize Sedona as a spiritual power center. The energy of the vortexes interacts with whom or what a person is in their inner self. Some strengthen your female or male side. Very interesting stuff! It resonates with and strengthens the Inner Being of each person who comes within about a quarter to a half mile of it. This resonance occurs because the vortex energy is very similar to the subtle energy operating in the energy centers inside each person. We were able to get a map to the several that are in Sedona. Some are longer hikes than others. But the interesting fact was that as we approached closer and closer to a Vortex, the Juniper trees that dotted the region would actually twist due to the spiral-like energy. Sedona is now a center for Spiritual Awareness and Evolution. Mik and I eat up this stuff! There were New Age shops in the very quaint main street where we bought some cool crystals - I really believed mine worked by the way (but that will need to be another blog).

One memory I won't forget was during one hike when he was in front of me about 10 feet as we walked the trail ledge of a cliff. Suddenly I saw Mik in mid-stride with his left leg swinging in the air - do a strange, exaggerated leap forward. "RATTLE SNAKE!!" And indeed it was! It was nearing sunset and it was coming out from under some rocks where it had probably been sleeping during the day in the shade. Mik had almost placed his left foot on the rock on top of it when he saw it and thus did the dramatic hop forward! (See web photo album for picture.) The ironic thing is that since I had met Mik he has been intrigued with seeing a California Rattlesnake. Well, here was his final opportunity! And thus, Mik and I enjoyed a couple otherwise peaceful and spiritual days hiking beautiful trails and meditating at the couple vortex sites we reached. I definitely plan to go back!

Sedona, Arizona

Click on webalbum above and watch slideshow!

It's Official...

Erin Go Braugh!
When I turned 30 I treated myself to my first trip abroad by meeting my ex boyfriend at his home in northern Italy. This May I am turning 35 and treating myself to a trip with Patrick to his home in northern Ireland... SO excited!! I hope it doesn't rain too much. I can't wait to see the gorgeous, lush countryside where he grew up riding his Arabian horse and being eye witness to historic IRA bombings in his youth. Wow. Only one question remains: "Will it be a nice day for a Guinness?"

Maui-Wowee

I am still documenting more or less some of the trips I took in the last few years. I'm getting close to being caught up! This trip took place a year ago when I had a free trip to the island of Maui. Mik from Italy was still my boyfriend at the time, so he, of course, accompanied me there.

Now neither of us had been to the islands of Hawaii before - so this was a treat - although we only got to go for 3 days - too short! We stayed at the timeshare WorldMark in the city of Kihei. This was situated perfectly across the street from one of the pretties beaches there! So nice to walk there, walk the beach, sit in the sand and watch the sunset. And one of my favorite pastimes: people watch. I remember admiring 1 enthusiast doing his yoga moves while enjoying the sheer careless attitude of a gay young man exercising/dancing flamboyantly across the sand wearing his headphones.

Unlike the island of Oahu - where I went with Patrick in July (see blog) Maui is much more laid-back and less touristy. I don't care to shop or be around a ton of tourists and mostly want to soak up the Nature, so I really prefer Maui. It just didn't feel like it was outright catering to the tourist - although, of course, it relies on tourism as well.

One needs to rent a car while there - we spent one entire day driving the circumference of the entire island - SO lovely!! We did buy for $20 bucks a recommended CD that you listen to in your car as you are driving and it tells you about what you are seeing, about the kind of vegetation that is growing there, how to get to hard-to-find beaches and trails to waterfalls. So nice!:) I HIGHLY recommend doing this!

Our main problem is that the time of year we went - end of January - although beautiful, not too hot, not humid, but it did rain off and on so it wasn't preferable for water sports and laying out. Which we also wanted to do. When we rented snorkels and a native told us how to get to a great, hidden snorkeling lagoon that natives know about - we were disappointed that the water visibility after the rains was murky - so we couldn't see anything past 1 foot in front of us. :( Also, hiking the simply stunning trails was very muddy - and we only had brought flip flops!

That said, I truly enjoyed myself. It is a WONDERFUL place to enjoy nature and relax. It is pretty dead at night - as far as social life - but we didn't mind. There are bars of course - but it's not at all like Honolulu, Oahu.

One morning we got up at 3:30 am (whew!) to drive to a shop that shuttled us and a few others about an hour into the center of the island where there is a huge old volcanic crater. One of the big tourist things to do is get up early, drive up there yourself - or do what we did - and watch the sun rise at the edge of the crater. Now, due to the altitude climb - we were warned it would be quite cold up there. Again - we had only packed shorts and flipflops - we never expected cold! So the tour furnished us with space suits - waterproof and thick. And believe me - we NEEDED them! We were amazed so many people got up so early to get there when we arrived. We went outside while it was still too dark to see anything of the crater. The wind was blowing relentlessly - it was quite cold! But, eventually the colors started to change and we saw the sun poking through over the horizon. GORGEOUS - again, I felt that humble closeness to God when I am simply moved by Mother Nature. (Similar to how I felt hiking the Incan Trail to Macchu Pichu in Peru). It took about 15 minutes for the sun to rise, all the while with changing colors. Everyone applauded. We then could finally see the crater - looking like a canyon - very cool.

After a bit our guide unloaded the mountain bikes we all had rented and he left. It was up to us to cruise down the zigzag road of the mountain all the way back down to the coast. FUN! Another Elsa adventure of course!! We set off, still in our Gortex suits and helmets as it rained off and on and was still cold. It was very fun! And eventually as you get lower and lower you start taking off the layers of clothing because it starts to warm up. Once we finally got down to the bottom of the mountain we found ourselves at a little town. Now here is where the real adventure began! We were a little confused about where to go to get back to the part of the island coast where the Tour shop was located. I thought it was one way and Mik thought another. Well, we went my way - with me cheerfully stating: "We have the bikes all day, if we get lost - it will be an adventure!" Well. Getting lost we did. That wasn't the problem. The problem is that we took a very difficult route with major HILLS. I mean, we were huffing and puffing and sweating for a few hours. It was VERY tough!!! Now, I had known Mik long enough to know that he has a patient, sweet disposition so he didn't mind at all that we were lost. But he didn't suffer as much as me - cus the boy is STRONG!!! I, on the other hand, was dying sometimes and had to off and walk the bike. He just laughed. When we finally dragged our ragged selves back into the shop - hours after the rest of the tour - they laughed at us good-naturedly and asked, "Got lost, huh?" We told them what route we had taken and they were so impressed we biked those hills. We DID have the option that if you got lost or too tired to call them and they would pick you up in the van for $50 bucks, but those of you who know me, know that I am stubborn as a mule and that I'll die trying before giving up on some physical adventure.

Another highlight from that trip was that one could really see the majestic Great Whales right off the coastline! We were as excited as kids constantly looking for them to surface and gulp some air throught their blowholes. They were simply magnificent! I couldn't get over how large they were!

I would go back to Maui in a heart beat - the nature was so lovely and green and the native islanders very hospitable. A lovely trip! Click on slideshow below for webalbum! "Mahalo"... :)

Maui Jan. 2006

Euro Trip #2 - 2003 Italy, Spain, Austria, Slovenia

Do any of you remember that summer? That was the hottest summer in about 25 years all over the world. Old people were dying without air conditioning. It was even muggy in San Diego (where we usually don’t have humidity). Well, I remember that summer. It was my 2nd trip to Europe. My 2nd trip visiting Mik’s parents in Vernasso, Italy. But this time instead of 10 days I stayed about a month. My old boyfriend, Mik, had neglected to tell me how humid a NORMAL July and August can be when compared with the perfect May weather from my previous year’s visit. This year the weather was simply…painful.
Put it this way: Italy and most of Europe, I think, – does not have air conditioning. Maybe the big cities but certainly not the country. It was so hot and sticky one couldn’t sleep, eat, walk, look pretty or anything. I remember the first day I tried working out with Mik and I got so sick that I scared Mik’s parents greatly and they had to call an emergency doctor at 1am who (get this..) did a house call!!! I’ve only heard of doctors making house calls in old books and movies!!
Regardless of humidity, I wasn’t going to spend a month in Mik’s tiny village – no matter how pretty it is. We did a lovely day trip up to Austria (about a half hour to the north). This was a great idea as it was much cooler up there in the mountains. We went to 2 nice cities – Klagenfurt and then the pretty lakeside town of Velden. I enjoyed Austria very much – it is completely different than Italy in architecture, food and mannerisms - yet so close!
We also did a tranquil day trip to Slovenia – only a few minutes east of Mik’s village. We found ourselves at Santa di Lucia Lake where we had a picnic and strolled around the large lake watching the swans and the Slovenian teens playing in the water. It was very peaceful. Mik told me stories how people in his village used to go there to buy gasoline since it was so cheap until the Italian gov’t gave them special cards to buy discounted gas in Italy so the profits stayed in their native country.
Another fabulous trip was a week spent in San Cugat and Barcelona, Spain visiting my 2nd oldest sister: Sylvia, brother-in-law Tim, and kids, Ariela and Sebastian. They moved to Spain for about 3 years when Tim’s work at Hewlitt-Packard transferred him there. It was definitely a life-changing experience for all of them and a great way for the kids to really have to learn and use their Spanish in school. They were greatly missed in San Diego by all the family, so it was very exciting to see their temporary lives in Espana! They lived in a cute house in quaint San Cugat – about 15 minutes by tram to Barcelona. We spent our time between hanging out with the family, playing soccer with Sebastian and going into Barcelona to explore. I loved the museums and getting lost. I thought the Spanish people (men and women alike) were the most beautiful people, collectively, that I have ever seen! My only complaint was that I did not really like the food and also I, surprisingly, found it hard to understand the Catalan dialect they use in Barcelona. I realize my Mexican border Spanish is different but sometimes business owners were a little snooty about my Spanish. Geez!
One harrowing story in Spain was that we got to meet up with our dear San Diego friends Danny (Mik’s old roommate), and married couple Claudio and Leyla who were all en route to party in Ibiza. They stayed a couple days in Barcelona to see us and shop. The first night we met up with them we were ahem, ‘over served’ sangria (ummm) and found ourselves late at night wandering the famous Calle Ramblas where all the bars and clubs are. The boys were demanding to have Paella since we were in Spain. We finally found a tiny, dirty hole-in-the-wall shop after midnight that was open and, indeed, selling paella. Paella, that is, for a whopping $20 bucks for a bowl that was probably made early that afternoon and was old and hardened. Still, Mik and Danny, being buzzed said they wanted it. We hadn’t paid anything yet and the gruff Turk behind the counter shoved 2 bowls in the oven to warm up. We waited. And waited. And waited. I was doing all the translating but they could see that we were a little drunk, tourists, and NOT happy about how long it was taking to warm up the darn bowls of old paella. Finally Danny suggested we leave. It was almost a half hour we waited. So we wandered outside. Well, next thing we know 3 pissed off Turkish men jump over the counter and grab the boys roughly by the collars shouting and swearing at me in Spanish that we were thieves and breaking the law. I was so scared – they looked like they were going to kill Michigan blonde hair, blue-eyed Danny who was cussing back at them in the only Spanish he knew. I tried explaining that they were taking too long, the food looked poor and we hadn’t even paid yet. Well, SHAME on US. That was very naïve of us to assume we can do whatever we want in a foreign country after midnight. They dragged us back inside, pulled down the bars and LOCKED us in, demanding to be paid or they would call the cops. Believe me: we paid. Then they basically threw down the bowls of food with no silverware and told me they could use their fingers. We were so glad to leave in 1 piece and I can honestly say that we were very lucky no one got hurt. I was very ashamed at our behaviour, but we honestly had no idea it would make them so mad. As for the $20 paella bowl? Inedible and thrown away.

The last event to discuss was that in August back in Italy, Mik’s village puts on a HUGE festival (Matejur) that now brings 100s of people even from Germany, Austria and Slovenia. It is a week-long, complete with beer garden, nightly bands and dancing, volleyball, BBQs to sell food day and night, a gorgeous but tough cross-country race, people swimming and tanning in the adjacent river Natisone. Out of towners bring tents and camp there next to the field or river and bathe in it for a week!!! Can you imagine the stink of no real shower and the heat of that summer??? EWWWWW. Being Italy of course there was a huge soccor tournament for prize money (major fights and racism). Shoot, one guy was so hurt that they had to call in a helicopter to land in tiny Vernasso!! Amazing! The locals all sign up and work booths, or sports events. It has gotten to be so big that it is a MAJOR money-making event for tiny Vernasso.

My 2 favorite memories were dancing to some Asian girl fronting a foreign band in her heavily accented English as she sang Shania Twain’s song, “Damn! I feel like a woman”. The crowd would go so crazy at every American song and they’d sing it at the top of their lungs in their broken English as best they could and I swear but I saw some big, athletic, macho, monster of some guys who were singing and dancing like happy oafs, “Damn! I feel like a woman!” Now you know they had NO CLUE as to what they were saying, and if they did they would be traumatized. As for me: it almost made me homesick for my gay town Hillcrest in San Diego.  Sigh!
My last great memory was on the closing night of the festival had the best fireworks' display I had ever seen. And this isn’t America, folks, where they set them off far away. No sir, they set them off right in the middle of the soccer field and everyone just laid down in the grass and watched the sky – it was SO loud and SO low I almost got scared a couple times! Absolutely fantastic!!! And seeing that massive, colorful display in the dark countryside with no city lights and only stars just can’t be beat. A great memory… it even made the humidity worth it! :)
click on slideshow below!

Euro Trip 2003

The Incan Trail

On our 3rd day in Peru Patrick and I were to awake early in order to be picked up by our tour and the rest of our fellow hikers to begin the 3.5 luxury bus-drive to the beginning of the Incan Trail. After having asked Patrick the night before to make sure (you can all see where I am going with this) that his alarm was set for 4:20am (they were coming at 5) I opened my eyes the next morning to.....daylight. Not full-on sunshine, but that said I knew it was a lot lighter than it should have been at, oh say 4:20!!! "Patrick...?" I woke him up, "What time is it???" "Curses!!" (Well, he didn't say that but he DID curse). Both of us jumped up to see it was indeed about 5 minutes till 5! Fabulous. Good one, Patrick. If I hadn't woken up myself who knows what would have happened.

After the morning drama of us getting our stuff together and downstairs (while trying to grab some of the free daily breakfast buffet that the hotel offered), we finally set off on the road to get to the Incan Trail. Andean Life was our tour and they ended up being even better than expected for the mid-range tour price - about $300 per person which included 4-days camping/hiking, our english-speaking Quechan guide, Romelo; 10 porters carrying the food, cooking equipment and tents and our fellow troop which consisted of 2 aussies, 3 brits, 1 german and us.I was most pleased with our WONDERFUL porters and our troop couldn't have been any cooler than the hip, game 20-somethings (I was in my element being with a bunch of foreigners). Meals were full of laughter and stories from everyone as we fortunately all truly got along very well. Our porters took great care of us: the food (from our 23 year old cook) was AMAZING: several courses made at each meal and TONS of it. Not to mention afternoon tea with bisquits (cookies) and popcorn (the Brits loved that special touch). We couldn't believe what could be made in that little cooking tent they would pitch next to our dining tent. Plus, they would do that on top of having trotted (that is: slowly jogged) past us bent over double on the way to the next plain packed up 3 feet high with bulky tents and such. We were amazed at their calves and the fact that these tiny indians (ranging in age from 18-46) had such strength. I hated that they essentially were pack mules - but the fact was that it is a high paying job for them and we made sure to tip them very generously on top of that. Like I mentioned previously: traveling in Peru is cheap, so I could be generous.In continuation, the porters would pass our hard-working selves on the trail and pitch our camp, make our meal and all the time - be it, day or night: take turns having one of them posted as guard by our sleeping tents (as bandits have been known to rob hikers). They really were remarkable and I understood from other hikers that they were not as pleased with their tours: leaky tents, not good food or attention paid. When our 2 British gals were put in an awkward situation with a rude porter from one of the other tours at one of the pit stops it was OUR porters who sought him out, surrounded him and confronted him (getting him fired from his good-paying job).

The Incan Trail, itself, is not a hike for the wimpy, out of shape, or prissy. It can be tough if you are over 30. One must be ready for anything regarding the weather changing in a snap from a downpour (pulling on the rain poncho), to cold, to foggy ("don't fall off the cliff", our guide warned), to HOT. You pretty much always use the bathroom in the Great Outdoors (although there are a couple "toilets" on the route - holes in the ground with a door), you don't shower for days, you wear the same clothes pretty much since you can't afford to carry more than 1 change of clothes, and you sleep cold nights on the ground in tents.

That said I HIGHLY recommend tackling the adventure. Mother Nature is absolutely splendid in her various forms there: you hike through plains, to steep summits, valleys, jungles, rain forests, rocks, cloud forests, the River Urubamba running below... and the final destination of the mighty ruins of Machu Pichu are absolutely breath-taking! (Just remember that no matter how young and in shape you are - you WILL need a hiking stick). And after 4 days when we did finally reach Machu Pichu, I felt a lump in my throat (akin to when I passed the finish line of my 1st half-marathon at 30 years of age) of pride that we made it. An old running injury definitely made the going slow and quite painful at times, with everyone suffering on the 2nd day (the hardest hike - with 2 very steep climbs and very steep descents - muy painful on the knees). It was as Patrick commented as we admired the amazing ruins along with the other 100s of tourists who took a bus there - "We REALLY earned it!"
**click on picture below to see photo album!!

The Incan Trail 10.06