Whose flights these are I don't really know.
They're taking off for international points, though;
People all see me stopping here
To watch my gadgets fill up to go.
My little laptop must think it queer
To stop here with my own gate so near
Between Starbucks and Sushi-make
The darkening evening of mid-year.
It needs some time for the wi-fi to take
Like my laptop thinks there's some mistake.
Concourse sounds through my head sweep
Noises and announcements of raucous make.
Miami International is hardly lovely or deep,
But I have promises (and a flight) to keep,
And thousands of miles to go before I sleep,
And thousands of miles to go before I sleep.
(Apologies to Robert Frost.)
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Monday, August 13, 2012
Monday Musing: Vacation hiatus
While I'm on vacation during these waning days of August, I won't be updating the blog too often. If you've noticed, since the start of 2012, I've updated the blog posting rate to about one per day. This usually allows me to write up a lot of what I'm navel-gazing about (although Facebook comments do usually "take care" of my need to do some non-work writing, too).
Hopefully, I'll get to 300 posts this year, and perhaps some of these upcoming posts will return to topics of interest related to my research. (Maybe.)
(Possibly.)
(We'll see.)
Hopefully, I'll get to 300 posts this year, and perhaps some of these upcoming posts will return to topics of interest related to my research. (Maybe.)
(Possibly.)
(We'll see.)
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Ann Arbor 1930s style travel posters
Over on tumblr, you can find (if you know where to look) Brian Walline's page, which has - in addition to many other pieces (many of which are Michigan-themed) - this travel poster that evokes the travel posters of the 1930s:
More Ann Arbor (and other Michigan) travel posters at The Mighty Mitten. This one's also fun:
More Ann Arbor (and other Michigan) travel posters at The Mighty Mitten. This one's also fun:
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Back from Toronto: Thanks to two friends (one old, one new)
I just got back from Toronto. A big thanks to Herr B.D. for letting me stay at his flat and for letting me borrow his bike to go all about the city. Showing me around Kensington Market helped me get some munchies for the train trip today. I hope that we can meet up again to chat and have a great time again (and hopefully use an opportunity to have another design-build on something to make it quietly awesome). Vielen Dank, Herr B.D.!
A big thanks, too, to Ms. TallPenguin for giving me some really great options for eating, seeing, and biking. Also, thanks to her for the great idea of joining to see A Streetcar Named Desire: I had never seen it, and it was ... "WOAH...", and her friendliness to an (up to then) next-to-complete stranger. However, I feel that I must apologize (again) for the exuberance with which I played devil's advocate over wonderfully delicious crepes and tasty beer afterward. I have been told that I can be somewhat overbearing in a conversation. :P Still, one more heartfelt, "Thank you!" to Tall Penguin, and I hope that we can do it again sometime.
Now that I'm back safely ensconced in the forest, I can think again about the things that I have to do tomorrow: work, clean, work.
A big thanks, too, to Ms. TallPenguin for giving me some really great options for eating, seeing, and biking. Also, thanks to her for the great idea of joining to see A Streetcar Named Desire: I had never seen it, and it was ... "WOAH...", and her friendliness to an (up to then) next-to-complete stranger. However, I feel that I must apologize (again) for the exuberance with which I played devil's advocate over wonderfully delicious crepes and tasty beer afterward. I have been told that I can be somewhat overbearing in a conversation. :P Still, one more heartfelt, "Thank you!" to Tall Penguin, and I hope that we can do it again sometime.
Now that I'm back safely ensconced in the forest, I can think again about the things that I have to do tomorrow: work, clean, work.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Vacation biking
Yesterday afternoon, I went cycling south to go along the Lake Ontario Shore, then headed north to then head south - following the Don Creek - to the old distillery district before heading back to BD's place.
In total that ride was about 42km. (It would have been 40km if I didn't get turned around a bit at the end.)
After dinner, BD and I went for another 26km ride. This time north and through some parks, but I don't know where. I'll have to wait until I'm back in A2 to download the tracks. Still, not bad for an afternoon and evening on vacation!
Rundown on food:
In total that ride was about 42km. (It would have been 40km if I didn't get turned around a bit at the end.)
After dinner, BD and I went for another 26km ride. This time north and through some parks, but I don't know where. I'll have to wait until I'm back in A2 to download the tracks. Still, not bad for an afternoon and evening on vacation!
Rundown on food:
- Breakfast at home (toast and coffee)
- Lunch at Mother's Dumplings.
- Snack at Ed's Real Scoop.
- Flight of sake at Ontario Spring Water Sake Co.
- IPA at Mill Street Brewpub.
- Dinner at home (potato salad and sausage with herb beer)
- After-dinner coffee at a Starbucks (somewhere).
- After-coffee mint tea at Arena Coffee (on Bloor).
Monday, May 14, 2012
Why do I bike (part 43)
There's nothing like the feeling of wind on your face as you go sweeping through the landscape.
Today, I wake up in Toronto, in a neighborhood near to the university, and - looking out the window - I see literally LOADS of cyclists riding along the main avenue. Yesterday - Mother's Day - I also saw many people cycling along the roadways throughout the areas of the downtown that my friend and I walked through.
Happily, my friend, BD, has a second bike - a folding bike - that he lent me for my stay these few days, and we took a 13-mile trip out to Toronto's High Park, along the lake shore, and back along the avenues of the city. In some ways, it was more easy to ride the roads of the big city of Toronto than it is to ride the streets of Ann Arbor. I cannot imagine that a major part of it is not due (in large part) to the sheer number of bikes on the roads in Toronto compared to Ann Arbor. (And I thought that Ann Arbor was a relatively bike-friendly city.) Also (and this might be due to the location where I'm staying), there are MANY bike stores in the region, thus feeding the number of bikes and the bike interest. Also, there is cycling infrastructure at street crossings, even further giving a greater (and obvious) nod to cyclists.
Saturday, March 03, 2012
Reality is awesome!
Been reading some more from Greta Christina's Blog, and I have to say that this article is - for me, right now - a good one.
Truth is not boring.
This morning, I woke up and drove out to hike up Squaw Peak (now renamed as Piestewa Peak) with my cousin. It was a really fun trip, since I had never hiked the peak before, and a week of doing exercises indoors really had me hankering for a short morning hike. As we walked up, looking at all those who were also driving to this uninhabited parcel of land in the residential lands of Phoenix in order to climb up and down this bit of granite, I joked that in a few hundred years, when archaeologists were examining this site, they would wonder what religious significance such a climb would have held for the people of today. I mean, it obviously gets far more traffic than most houses of worship do on a daily basis, and there is almost nothing at the top other than a view of the surrounding landscape. Perhaps they will think of the people of today as partaking in a piece of nature worship; a daily pilgrimage to a site for nature communion.
This is the reality - amongst all the people who are there to make a trip for reasons of exercise, I ask, "Why on the side of a hill?" One can exercise in the city, at a gym, or by pounding the pavement. Why rise early, drive several miles, fight for limited parking, and then spend a few hours climbing up and down the side of a hill? It is, I believe, precisely because it is a communion with nature. A re-connection, no matter how brief, with something that isn't totally man-made. And that's okay. That's good, even.
It's okay that it isn't the soaring cathedral of El Capitan. It's also okay that it is a forest of great sequoia trees. It's further okay that it's a pathway that is traversed by several hundred people every morning. It is real. It is tangible. It is somehow more true to me than any house of worship.
Sure, I can go to the historic cathedrals in Europe, the temples in India, etc., and marvel at their grace and architectural majesty. (In fact, I do love going to old churches to see the interesting things that people could accomplish without the aid of modern-day technology or mathematics.) However, such things are fundamentally different from the reality of the natural world (or even those things that are "mostly natural").
(Okay, so it's a stretch to link my thoughts about hiking Piestewa Peak with that of Greta Christina's thoughts about the amazingness of reality, but it's in there somewhere, and perhaps I should - in future - eat after hiking and before writing a blog entry.)
Truth is not boring.
This morning, I woke up and drove out to hike up Squaw Peak (now renamed as Piestewa Peak) with my cousin. It was a really fun trip, since I had never hiked the peak before, and a week of doing exercises indoors really had me hankering for a short morning hike. As we walked up, looking at all those who were also driving to this uninhabited parcel of land in the residential lands of Phoenix in order to climb up and down this bit of granite, I joked that in a few hundred years, when archaeologists were examining this site, they would wonder what religious significance such a climb would have held for the people of today. I mean, it obviously gets far more traffic than most houses of worship do on a daily basis, and there is almost nothing at the top other than a view of the surrounding landscape. Perhaps they will think of the people of today as partaking in a piece of nature worship; a daily pilgrimage to a site for nature communion.
This is the reality - amongst all the people who are there to make a trip for reasons of exercise, I ask, "Why on the side of a hill?" One can exercise in the city, at a gym, or by pounding the pavement. Why rise early, drive several miles, fight for limited parking, and then spend a few hours climbing up and down the side of a hill? It is, I believe, precisely because it is a communion with nature. A re-connection, no matter how brief, with something that isn't totally man-made. And that's okay. That's good, even.
It's okay that it isn't the soaring cathedral of El Capitan. It's also okay that it is a forest of great sequoia trees. It's further okay that it's a pathway that is traversed by several hundred people every morning. It is real. It is tangible. It is somehow more true to me than any house of worship.
Sure, I can go to the historic cathedrals in Europe, the temples in India, etc., and marvel at their grace and architectural majesty. (In fact, I do love going to old churches to see the interesting things that people could accomplish without the aid of modern-day technology or mathematics.) However, such things are fundamentally different from the reality of the natural world (or even those things that are "mostly natural").
(Okay, so it's a stretch to link my thoughts about hiking Piestewa Peak with that of Greta Christina's thoughts about the amazingness of reality, but it's in there somewhere, and perhaps I should - in future - eat after hiking and before writing a blog entry.)
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Travelling
Sitting right now in Dallas/Ft Worth airport, waiting at gate C14 for my eventual flight to Detroit. Yesterday, I woke up in Valparaiso, Chile, and now I'm headed back to (apparently) rainy Ann Arbor.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Travelling on Christmas Day
The ticket price did play a part in my decision of flying on Dec 25 as opposed to Dec 23 or 24. It would have cost about $500 more to fly on the Friday or Saturday leading up to Christmas, and so it was a pretty simple choice for me, especially when one thinks about the problems of onward travel once I was to arrive at Santiago. If I arrived at Santiago on December 24 (having left on December 23), I would have been one of the many many people who were jockeying for tickets and seats on the buses down to Concepcion. Furthermore, if I would have left on December 24, I would have arrived in Santiago on December 25, and would likely have to stay in a hotel in Santiago, since many services would have been shut down (or severely diminished). In other words, it would have been even more expensive and hectic than landing on Boxing Day. (Do they celebrate Boxing Day in Chile? I don't know...)
Still, the travel down will be kind of interesting in itself. It is already 12:40pm, and I am seated in a nearly empty airport, with only light traffic. I was happy to learn that the extra bag that I had packed full of presents would be able to be carried on, saving me $30 on a second-bag check-in fee. However, I had to do a quick series of mental gymnastics to try and remember whether I had packed liquids or sharps in the bag. Ummm..... nope. And with that, I went to the rather light (but also lightly staffed) security line. Of course, they pulled my bag, pulled out all the presents and ran them through again. (Seeing that most of the presents are food-related -- wild rice and coffee -- they came out as quite dense on the screen, causing a little consternation.
Following a re-pack, I walked down to the gate, and tried to get onto the Boingo hotspot (seeing that I would be in an airport for at least another 7 hours in Dallas, I thought that this would be a good expedient). When I pulled out the card for payment, I realized that I hadn't told the credit union that I would be using the card in Chile, and I frantically tried to call them, to be told that they were on holiday hours, and to please call back after the holidays. Oooh, shit. Zipping over to their website, I learned that they wouldn't be open on Dec 26, killing the fleeting hope that perhaps I could Skype-call them when I landed in Santiago tomorrow morning, but no such luck... Fortunately, a quick Google search showed that there are American Airlines Credit Union ATMs at the Dallas/Ft. Worth airport; as part of the COOP network, I shouldn't be charged the $2-$3 transaction fees at a non-COOP ATM.
Well, this will be an interesting trip, I think. Not too hectic, either, I hope.
Fingers crossed, and Happy Christmas!
Still, the travel down will be kind of interesting in itself. It is already 12:40pm, and I am seated in a nearly empty airport, with only light traffic. I was happy to learn that the extra bag that I had packed full of presents would be able to be carried on, saving me $30 on a second-bag check-in fee. However, I had to do a quick series of mental gymnastics to try and remember whether I had packed liquids or sharps in the bag. Ummm..... nope. And with that, I went to the rather light (but also lightly staffed) security line. Of course, they pulled my bag, pulled out all the presents and ran them through again. (Seeing that most of the presents are food-related -- wild rice and coffee -- they came out as quite dense on the screen, causing a little consternation.
Following a re-pack, I walked down to the gate, and tried to get onto the Boingo hotspot (seeing that I would be in an airport for at least another 7 hours in Dallas, I thought that this would be a good expedient). When I pulled out the card for payment, I realized that I hadn't told the credit union that I would be using the card in Chile, and I frantically tried to call them, to be told that they were on holiday hours, and to please call back after the holidays. Oooh, shit. Zipping over to their website, I learned that they wouldn't be open on Dec 26, killing the fleeting hope that perhaps I could Skype-call them when I landed in Santiago tomorrow morning, but no such luck... Fortunately, a quick Google search showed that there are American Airlines Credit Union ATMs at the Dallas/Ft. Worth airport; as part of the COOP network, I shouldn't be charged the $2-$3 transaction fees at a non-COOP ATM.
Well, this will be an interesting trip, I think. Not too hectic, either, I hope.
Fingers crossed, and Happy Christmas!
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Rafys' plane on final call
December 5, 5:50am.
Rafys' airplane's status has changed from "ON TIME" to "FINAL CALL". It appears that it will leave on time.
Rafys' airplane's status has changed from "ON TIME" to "FINAL CALL". It appears that it will leave on time.
At terminal 2 of Benito Juarez Int'l Airport
December 5, 5:00am
Rafys went through migración (what is also mislabeled here as "immigration", whereas it ought to be "emigration") about 30mins ago. It wasn't easy saying our goodbyes, although we both really started saying them a few days ago. Little things, like thinking about my schedule on Monday or realizing thatg I needed to put together a surveymonkey for the ELI gred students who used the writing clinic tghis semester, started impinging on the mind, drawing it away from the immediacy of the moment, but also helping cushion the blow when it would eventually come: 4:30am as it turned out for me.
We spent out last night together by going out for a bit of a fancy dinner at a traditional Mexican restaurant in the revitalizing Condessa neighborhood of which I had read about in the Lonely Planet guide. However, as we approached our first choice, we noticed that what should have been a cozy Sonoran-style restaurant had been replaced by a modern Argentinian steak restaurant. We passed three American tourists possibly on the same mission to the same restaurent (judging from their puzzled expressions as they approached the supposed location).
We contined the three blocks over and several more up to the back-up choice, only to find another restaurant had taken its place... and had closed its doors for the night. On the positive side, we had serindipidously stumbled across an Irish pub - St Patrick's - on our way (and so managed to continue oujr trend of Irish-bar-hopping that we started in Santiago), swearing to stop in before going back to the hotel. Still, we had nowhere now planned to go for some repast.
We headed back, past a tapas place (no thanks) before heading toward the much busier Avenida Michuacan. Serindipidy was with us again, as we came across a nice little restaurant serving French food (and Italian pasta) at reasonable prices for the area.
As we sat and ate our gorgeously scrumptious dinner, we talked about growing up and what kinds of teenagers we each were. We talked about when wse each received our first cameras, and also talked about whether we had good arguments withour parents. Light talk, but also deep talk, to learn more about each other.
Our trip to St Patrick's was quick (it was only a little over one block away), and we enjoyed overly priced British and Irish beer before catching a cab at around 2:20am in order get back to the hotel for our 3am wake-up call and 3:30am cab ride to the airport. (Needless to say that we made it well on time, but wew far from the first here.)
It is now 5:30am, and Rafys' flight takes off in another half hour. Sitting where I am, I can see the huge HDTV monitor showing the departure times for her flight - the first ont scheduled out from the international part of terminal 2 - as remaining "ON TIME". Once I don't see it on the board, I'll make my way to the terminal 1 area in order to try and stay up the additional 6.5 hours until my own flight leaves.
Rafys went through migración (what is also mislabeled here as "immigration", whereas it ought to be "emigration") about 30mins ago. It wasn't easy saying our goodbyes, although we both really started saying them a few days ago. Little things, like thinking about my schedule on Monday or realizing thatg I needed to put together a surveymonkey for the ELI gred students who used the writing clinic tghis semester, started impinging on the mind, drawing it away from the immediacy of the moment, but also helping cushion the blow when it would eventually come: 4:30am as it turned out for me.
We spent out last night together by going out for a bit of a fancy dinner at a traditional Mexican restaurant in the revitalizing Condessa neighborhood of which I had read about in the Lonely Planet guide. However, as we approached our first choice, we noticed that what should have been a cozy Sonoran-style restaurant had been replaced by a modern Argentinian steak restaurant. We passed three American tourists possibly on the same mission to the same restaurent (judging from their puzzled expressions as they approached the supposed location).
We contined the three blocks over and several more up to the back-up choice, only to find another restaurant had taken its place... and had closed its doors for the night. On the positive side, we had serindipidously stumbled across an Irish pub - St Patrick's - on our way (and so managed to continue oujr trend of Irish-bar-hopping that we started in Santiago), swearing to stop in before going back to the hotel. Still, we had nowhere now planned to go for some repast.
We headed back, past a tapas place (no thanks) before heading toward the much busier Avenida Michuacan. Serindipidy was with us again, as we came across a nice little restaurant serving French food (and Italian pasta) at reasonable prices for the area.
As we sat and ate our gorgeously scrumptious dinner, we talked about growing up and what kinds of teenagers we each were. We talked about when wse each received our first cameras, and also talked about whether we had good arguments withour parents. Light talk, but also deep talk, to learn more about each other.
Our trip to St Patrick's was quick (it was only a little over one block away), and we enjoyed overly priced British and Irish beer before catching a cab at around 2:20am in order get back to the hotel for our 3am wake-up call and 3:30am cab ride to the airport. (Needless to say that we made it well on time, but wew far from the first here.)
It is now 5:30am, and Rafys' flight takes off in another half hour. Sitting where I am, I can see the huge HDTV monitor showing the departure times for her flight - the first ont scheduled out from the international part of terminal 2 - as remaining "ON TIME". Once I don't see it on the board, I'll make my way to the terminal 1 area in order to try and stay up the additional 6.5 hours until my own flight leaves.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Getting ready for traveling to Puebla
December 1, 5:50pm
We had lunch of carne asada - way too much for the three of us, but it was really tasty and we left, satisfied. On the way there, I finally was able to mail off the postcards that I had written early last week, but the guy at the post office (for some unknown reason) gave us postage in incremental stamps of 1.5 pesos, for a 10.5 peso charge per postcard. This meant a lot of pasting of stamps.
On the way back, I got to carry L's baby, and she fell asleep in the carrier. I suppose that I have the power to also put babies to sleep!
We had lunch of carne asada - way too much for the three of us, but it was really tasty and we left, satisfied. On the way there, I finally was able to mail off the postcards that I had written early last week, but the guy at the post office (for some unknown reason) gave us postage in incremental stamps of 1.5 pesos, for a 10.5 peso charge per postcard. This meant a lot of pasting of stamps.
On the way back, I got to carry L's baby, and she fell asleep in the carrier. I suppose that I have the power to also put babies to sleep!
Pancake toppings
¿Qué se haga si no vive en gringolandia para cubrir sus panquéques? Por supuesto, se puede usar otras cosas que sirope de maple en los estados unidos pero el es el más comun. Por desayuno hoy, nosotros usamos 'condensed milk' y mermelada de fresas. Fue delicioso.
Hotcakes Japanese style!
December 1, 9:28am
Breakfast is fruit, hotcakes, and coffee, all while the laundry is being done.
The hotcakes are puffing up and sitting tall, just like the style in Japan! (More cake than pancake.) Natsukashiiii!!! And they smell delicious, too!
Breakfast is fruit, hotcakes, and coffee, all while the laundry is being done.
The hotcakes are puffing up and sitting tall, just like the style in Japan! (More cake than pancake.) Natsukashiiii!!! And they smell delicious, too!
Waking up chilly
December 1, 8:48am
Tlatlauquitepec, being on the other side of the mountains, is enshouded in clouds (I would say 'mist', but it's also 1730m high), and they block the sun and introduce damp into everything. It is like when I was living in Scotland, next to the sea: dampness in everything.
Today, we are going into Tlatlauquitepec to do some shopping.
Tlatlauquitepec, being on the other side of the mountains, is enshouded in clouds (I would say 'mist', but it's also 1730m high), and they block the sun and introduce damp into everything. It is like when I was living in Scotland, next to the sea: dampness in everything.
Today, we are going into Tlatlauquitepec to do some shopping.
Tlatlauquitepec
November 31, 9:50pm
One of Rafys' friends from her masters' program in Costa Rica lives right near the town of Tlatlauquitepec, in the state of Puebla. We took a bus from the TAPO bus terminal - a large, domed terminal building proudly proclaiming 30 years of service - for 5 hours, winding through hills and the base of mountains, until we reached the fog-enshrouded town of Tlatlauquitepec at near dusk.
Taking a taxi from the primary bus drop-off for a short, dark, winding trip to her friend's house. We were met there by her friend, who quickly ushered us inside and out of the drizzly, damp night air. There, Rafys and her friend ("L") spent a long time catching up, talking about former classmates, and reminiscing about their time together in Costa Rica. And man can L speak fast! It took me about the first hour to get my brain comprehending at the same speed at which she spoke, and the following hours were spent trying to maintain that pace. My Spanish sounded even more slow and laggard than normal - even to my ears.
One of Rafys' friends from her masters' program in Costa Rica lives right near the town of Tlatlauquitepec, in the state of Puebla. We took a bus from the TAPO bus terminal - a large, domed terminal building proudly proclaiming 30 years of service - for 5 hours, winding through hills and the base of mountains, until we reached the fog-enshrouded town of Tlatlauquitepec at near dusk.
Taking a taxi from the primary bus drop-off for a short, dark, winding trip to her friend's house. We were met there by her friend, who quickly ushered us inside and out of the drizzly, damp night air. There, Rafys and her friend ("L") spent a long time catching up, talking about former classmates, and reminiscing about their time together in Costa Rica. And man can L speak fast! It took me about the first hour to get my brain comprehending at the same speed at which she spoke, and the following hours were spent trying to maintain that pace. My Spanish sounded even more slow and laggard than normal - even to my ears.
At the north bus staion
November 30, 8:40am
We just got on the Piramides bus for San Juan Tenotichlan (one every 10 minutes). The north bus terminal is HUGE, with upwards of a hundred different bus line companies. The building is in the shape of a large pyramid, with glass letting in light, making for an airy atmosphere. It was might brighter and spacious than any bus station that I had ever been in, definitely putting the bus stations in the US to shame.
Thse ticket to go to San Juan Tenotichlan (supposedly 1 hour) was 26 pesos; perhaps speaking to the drawing power of the pyramids.
Our trip to the station was, as Rays commented, an Odyssey. We left the hotel (thanks to hotels.com, no need for a lengthy check-out) and I suggested walking to the Reforma metrobus station: closer to our hotel, but with a need to cross the massive Reforma Avenue and then make our way to the not-as-massive Insurgentes Avenue, all while dodging the morning rush hour police-guided traffic as well as the many pedestriand coming out of the metro station... Each of us with large bags (me with a large backpacker's bag and Rafys with a large rolling bag). I had thought that a trip straight along Avenida Insurgentes would get us to the bus station.
I was wrong. We would have to get off at La Raza and take the metro to the bus station. On the positive side, we were going against the flow of traffic, and so the metrobus was almost empty, and we watched each city-bound bus, already packed with people, stop to try and accept even more. A part of me wondered when the city government would start making the buses and stations double-deckers.
When we got down to the metro (after climbing up and over the metrobus lanes and the adjoining streets - Mexico City is a terrible place for the physically handicapped to take public transportation) I saw a mustard yellow sign pointing to Indios Verdes station, which I recognized as being on the way north.
As we walked down to the platform, I saw a sign labeling a transfer tunnel as 'tunel de la ciencia', and I told Rafys that I really liked that sign. Then we walked to the empty, north-bound platform and got onto a similarly sparse train car. Once onboard, however, Rafys noticed that none of the three remaining station names matched what we needed. A quick look ayt the metro network map confirmed - as the doors closed - that we were on the wrong line; that we needed to take the yellow line, not the brown-mustard-yellow line. We would have to take the metro back one station and make our transfer... and then Rafys reminded me, "It's the crowded one."
Small blessing: the station platform on the next station was a shared one for north ans sout-bound trains, and so we only had to cross the platform and wait with the ever-growing crowd of morning commuters. I had - since we had gotten off the metrobus - taken charge of both large bags, since the metro stations were as replete with stairs as they were with a dearth of escalators.
After a false alarm of a completely empty meto train pulling slowly through the station, raising our hopes, the real train, already full of people, pulled in. rafys balked a little, suggesting that we take the next one, but my Tokyo and Taipei upbringing told me that each train would likely be like this for the foreseeable future and that there is always room to squeeze in, even if the people in the train don't like it (they are, afterall used to doing this every workday). Therefore, i said that we had to take this train, and pushed my way on (with my large blue backpack and Rafys' large rolling bag) while Rafys pushed into the crowd at the next door.
The position pressed up against the door I just entered by was tight and uncomfortable, but as I braced myself against the movement of the train, I consoled myself that it was only one stop. However, as we pulled into the station, I remembered that the platform at La Raza was on the other side of this packed train.
As we pulled in, I took advantage of the egress of a few other passenges and started surging toward the doors, loudly repeating, "permiso!" While pulling along Rafys' bag, heedless of the legs that it caught and knocked against; I would be getting off, and I would do it before the waiting commuters started getting on. I burst from the crowd, suddenly meeting no resistance, glanced off a man leaving the platform, and waited with Rafys (who had also managed to extricate herself from the crowded commuter train) for the platform to clear a little before making our way back to the 'tunel de la ciencia' in order to get to the yellow line, and the bus station.
The 'tunel' was lined with many back-lit photographs of Mexico's natural lanscapes, each with a brief description. Then the tunel's lighting changed to black light as we wlked under constellation maps on the ceiling, and then past more photos of Mexico's various cultural heritages. This was the 'cienia' of the tujnnel.
We did get on the right train, and got off at the right station, and entered the massive edifice. I sat and waited for Rafys to find the right bus company (something easier for her to do without a massive, hulking gringo behind her). She came to collect me, and luckily we were on the correct side of the station, and she got out tickets.
It's now 9:38am, and we just pulled into San Juan. The estimat of 1 hour given by the Lonely Planet was right!
We just got on the Piramides bus for San Juan Tenotichlan (one every 10 minutes). The north bus terminal is HUGE, with upwards of a hundred different bus line companies. The building is in the shape of a large pyramid, with glass letting in light, making for an airy atmosphere. It was might brighter and spacious than any bus station that I had ever been in, definitely putting the bus stations in the US to shame.
Thse ticket to go to San Juan Tenotichlan (supposedly 1 hour) was 26 pesos; perhaps speaking to the drawing power of the pyramids.
Our trip to the station was, as Rays commented, an Odyssey. We left the hotel (thanks to hotels.com, no need for a lengthy check-out) and I suggested walking to the Reforma metrobus station: closer to our hotel, but with a need to cross the massive Reforma Avenue and then make our way to the not-as-massive Insurgentes Avenue, all while dodging the morning rush hour police-guided traffic as well as the many pedestriand coming out of the metro station... Each of us with large bags (me with a large backpacker's bag and Rafys with a large rolling bag). I had thought that a trip straight along Avenida Insurgentes would get us to the bus station.
I was wrong. We would have to get off at La Raza and take the metro to the bus station. On the positive side, we were going against the flow of traffic, and so the metrobus was almost empty, and we watched each city-bound bus, already packed with people, stop to try and accept even more. A part of me wondered when the city government would start making the buses and stations double-deckers.
When we got down to the metro (after climbing up and over the metrobus lanes and the adjoining streets - Mexico City is a terrible place for the physically handicapped to take public transportation) I saw a mustard yellow sign pointing to Indios Verdes station, which I recognized as being on the way north.
As we walked down to the platform, I saw a sign labeling a transfer tunnel as 'tunel de la ciencia', and I told Rafys that I really liked that sign. Then we walked to the empty, north-bound platform and got onto a similarly sparse train car. Once onboard, however, Rafys noticed that none of the three remaining station names matched what we needed. A quick look ayt the metro network map confirmed - as the doors closed - that we were on the wrong line; that we needed to take the yellow line, not the brown-mustard-yellow line. We would have to take the metro back one station and make our transfer... and then Rafys reminded me, "It's the crowded one."
Small blessing: the station platform on the next station was a shared one for north ans sout-bound trains, and so we only had to cross the platform and wait with the ever-growing crowd of morning commuters. I had - since we had gotten off the metrobus - taken charge of both large bags, since the metro stations were as replete with stairs as they were with a dearth of escalators.
After a false alarm of a completely empty meto train pulling slowly through the station, raising our hopes, the real train, already full of people, pulled in. rafys balked a little, suggesting that we take the next one, but my Tokyo and Taipei upbringing told me that each train would likely be like this for the foreseeable future and that there is always room to squeeze in, even if the people in the train don't like it (they are, afterall used to doing this every workday). Therefore, i said that we had to take this train, and pushed my way on (with my large blue backpack and Rafys' large rolling bag) while Rafys pushed into the crowd at the next door.
The position pressed up against the door I just entered by was tight and uncomfortable, but as I braced myself against the movement of the train, I consoled myself that it was only one stop. However, as we pulled into the station, I remembered that the platform at La Raza was on the other side of this packed train.
As we pulled in, I took advantage of the egress of a few other passenges and started surging toward the doors, loudly repeating, "permiso!" While pulling along Rafys' bag, heedless of the legs that it caught and knocked against; I would be getting off, and I would do it before the waiting commuters started getting on. I burst from the crowd, suddenly meeting no resistance, glanced off a man leaving the platform, and waited with Rafys (who had also managed to extricate herself from the crowded commuter train) for the platform to clear a little before making our way back to the 'tunel de la ciencia' in order to get to the yellow line, and the bus station.
The 'tunel' was lined with many back-lit photographs of Mexico's natural lanscapes, each with a brief description. Then the tunel's lighting changed to black light as we wlked under constellation maps on the ceiling, and then past more photos of Mexico's various cultural heritages. This was the 'cienia' of the tujnnel.
We did get on the right train, and got off at the right station, and entered the massive edifice. I sat and waited for Rafys to find the right bus company (something easier for her to do without a massive, hulking gringo behind her). She came to collect me, and luckily we were on the correct side of the station, and she got out tickets.
It's now 9:38am, and we just pulled into San Juan. The estimat of 1 hour given by the Lonely Planet was right!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Teotihuacan!
Climb every staircase, go high and low
Visit ev'ry pyr'mid, to luna and to sol
Climb every staircase, take loads of pics
Walk the road of dead, 'til your day is done.
Okay, it's nowhere as catchy as Climb Every Mountain, but after spending 5 hours clambering all around Teotihuacan, you will likely be, too.
The day started with our arrival at 9am-ish, and we walked from gate 2 straight to the Pyramid of the Sun, and climbed up all its 265 steep steps; a Mesoamerican version of climbing the steps at Nikko; very exhausting. However, it was a good climb, and we were both tired but happy when we got back to ground level: those steps are steep!
We also wended our way to the pyramid of the sun and took some food while seated at its first level (the upper levels wew closed). From there, we noticed that the surrounding structures were all in various levels of reconstruction.
After climbing down from la piramide de la luna, we headed toward the museum of mural art, walking through the Jaguar courtyard - a collection of ruined buildings that most likely housed priests and their families.
The mural museum was very quiet (we were the only visitors there) and had many examples of murals that were recovered from the many nearby ruins.
After this, we went back to Teotuhuacan, walking all the way to the southern end of the ruined city, to the 'citadel' and the temple of quetzacoatl. This temple to the feathered serpent had actually had its quetzacoatl frontage covered over by a dais structure, although a large cut from of this later structure showed the retored face of the original pyramid.
From this point (5:30pm) we walked to the single eastern exit to go to the Gruta restaurant (the only option given in the Lonely Planet guide). We were approached by a female booster for another restaurant, and we ended up going there, instead, since it was much cheaper.
The people even gave us a lift back to our hotel after dinner!
Visit ev'ry pyr'mid, to luna and to sol
Climb every staircase, take loads of pics
Walk the road of dead, 'til your day is done.
Okay, it's nowhere as catchy as Climb Every Mountain, but after spending 5 hours clambering all around Teotihuacan, you will likely be, too.
The day started with our arrival at 9am-ish, and we walked from gate 2 straight to the Pyramid of the Sun, and climbed up all its 265 steep steps; a Mesoamerican version of climbing the steps at Nikko; very exhausting. However, it was a good climb, and we were both tired but happy when we got back to ground level: those steps are steep!
We also wended our way to the pyramid of the sun and took some food while seated at its first level (the upper levels wew closed). From there, we noticed that the surrounding structures were all in various levels of reconstruction.
After climbing down from la piramide de la luna, we headed toward the museum of mural art, walking through the Jaguar courtyard - a collection of ruined buildings that most likely housed priests and their families.
The mural museum was very quiet (we were the only visitors there) and had many examples of murals that were recovered from the many nearby ruins.
After this, we went back to Teotuhuacan, walking all the way to the southern end of the ruined city, to the 'citadel' and the temple of quetzacoatl. This temple to the feathered serpent had actually had its quetzacoatl frontage covered over by a dais structure, although a large cut from of this later structure showed the retored face of the original pyramid.
From this point (5:30pm) we walked to the single eastern exit to go to the Gruta restaurant (the only option given in the Lonely Planet guide). We were approached by a female booster for another restaurant, and we ended up going there, instead, since it was much cheaper.
The people even gave us a lift back to our hotel after dinner!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
A full day of anthropology
Today, we had a full day at the Anthropology Museum, which is located in the Bosque de Chapultepec area of Mexico City. This area is analogous to New York's Central Park, just less central and a lot more publicly used than I recall ever seeing Central Park (although I haven't been to NYC that often). Along the major throroughfares, there were sellers of various and sundry items, but if you just walked along one of the parallel paths, there were very few people, and no vendors, either.
We walked through the Botanical Gardens, and noted that single patches of different cacti, and we stopped to take some posed photos by them. Then, along the major boulevard separating one side of the park from the Anthropology Museum, we were treated to several blown-up photographs depicting the Mexican Revolution that took place starting about 100 years ago (and one of the things that the country is celebrating, along with it's 200 year anniversary of independence). Neither Rafys nor I knew much about the Mexican Revolution, (and it is something that I will be reading up on while going to Teotihuacán tomorrow).
Then we crossed to the Anthropology Museum - a massive edifice dedicated to the human history of the Mexican native peoples throughout history. Since the museum is open to the citizens of the city every Sunday, it was bustling with many, many people when we got there and were told that we had to each buy our 51 peso tickets, and drop off our bags. (Sidenote: I saw an example of a false cognate on the sign at the baggage check: "valores" means both "values" and "valuables", but we were asked to check our values and that they were not responsible for any lost values.)
There was a dance exhibition that was well underway when we entered; one that demonstrated the various traditional dances from different regions of Mexico. We stopped to enjoy it before going down to getting some food at the restaurant: sandwiches (tasty, but nothing special), coffee and soda. Then we entered the first hall: a special exhibition on the findings from Mayan ruins.
Then we continued to the rest of the halls, starting with an introduction to anthropology and the entry of humans into the Mesoamerican area. The next hall was on the early civilizations of Mesoamerica, and moved on through to the Teotihuacán culture, through to the Toltec culture, and beyond. Then we moved to the main hall, and was presented with the Mexica culture (previously known as the Aztec culture). This hall had many artifacts about the entry of the Mexica people to the region and the development of the city of Tenoctichlán.
By the time we were through with that hall, it was 4:30pm, and we decided to skip the other four halls (the Gulf peoples, the northern people, the (regular) Maya exhibit, and the western people) and go to dinner at the nearby branch of Sushi Itto. (We had a really tasty dinner of traditional and nuveau sushis.)
While coming back to the hotel, we got into a cab that was wanting to charge us 130 pesos to take us back, instead of the 30 pesos that took us from Ruta 61 to the hotel on the previous night. He also told us that he would take us to a different place, by a different road, etc., so we decided to get out, take a regular bus to the Chapultepec metro station, and ride the metro back the two stops to Insurgentes station and walking back to the hotel. In all, this option cost us 6 pesos each, instead of what would have been 65 pesos each, with the cab... Sometimes, fleecing happens in more obvious ways than others.
We walked through the Botanical Gardens, and noted that single patches of different cacti, and we stopped to take some posed photos by them. Then, along the major boulevard separating one side of the park from the Anthropology Museum, we were treated to several blown-up photographs depicting the Mexican Revolution that took place starting about 100 years ago (and one of the things that the country is celebrating, along with it's 200 year anniversary of independence). Neither Rafys nor I knew much about the Mexican Revolution, (and it is something that I will be reading up on while going to Teotihuacán tomorrow).
Then we crossed to the Anthropology Museum - a massive edifice dedicated to the human history of the Mexican native peoples throughout history. Since the museum is open to the citizens of the city every Sunday, it was bustling with many, many people when we got there and were told that we had to each buy our 51 peso tickets, and drop off our bags. (Sidenote: I saw an example of a false cognate on the sign at the baggage check: "valores" means both "values" and "valuables", but we were asked to check our values and that they were not responsible for any lost values.)
There was a dance exhibition that was well underway when we entered; one that demonstrated the various traditional dances from different regions of Mexico. We stopped to enjoy it before going down to getting some food at the restaurant: sandwiches (tasty, but nothing special), coffee and soda. Then we entered the first hall: a special exhibition on the findings from Mayan ruins.
Then we continued to the rest of the halls, starting with an introduction to anthropology and the entry of humans into the Mesoamerican area. The next hall was on the early civilizations of Mesoamerica, and moved on through to the Teotihuacán culture, through to the Toltec culture, and beyond. Then we moved to the main hall, and was presented with the Mexica culture (previously known as the Aztec culture). This hall had many artifacts about the entry of the Mexica people to the region and the development of the city of Tenoctichlán.
By the time we were through with that hall, it was 4:30pm, and we decided to skip the other four halls (the Gulf peoples, the northern people, the (regular) Maya exhibit, and the western people) and go to dinner at the nearby branch of Sushi Itto. (We had a really tasty dinner of traditional and nuveau sushis.)
While coming back to the hotel, we got into a cab that was wanting to charge us 130 pesos to take us back, instead of the 30 pesos that took us from Ruta 61 to the hotel on the previous night. He also told us that he would take us to a different place, by a different road, etc., so we decided to get out, take a regular bus to the Chapultepec metro station, and ride the metro back the two stops to Insurgentes station and walking back to the hotel. In all, this option cost us 6 pesos each, instead of what would have been 65 pesos each, with the cab... Sometimes, fleecing happens in more obvious ways than others.
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