The Concrete Luge

I'm loving San Francisco and all of its quirky surprises.  Nestled in the middle of a quiet residential neighborhood is a hidden park with two concrete slides carved into the hillside.  The Seward Street Slides are so unexpected--a rare urban delight that you don't expect to find in litigious America.  Because of its clandestine location (you won't find it unless you're looking for it), its unknown to most San Franciscans, and the park's nearby residents would probably prefer to keep it that way.  Too bad the secret's already out. Sorry, nearby neighbors.  I discovered it while doing a search for interesting things to do in the city.  There's already a fan following on Yelp.

In need of a study break, I met Cait for lunch and suggested that we try to find these concrete slides. She had no idea what I was talking about, and she's lived in the city for years.  I only had a vague idea of where the slides were (and secretly doubted their existence), so we stopped a couple of times to ask for directions from some friendly locals.  Cait was a little skeptical when the directions kept leading us up and further up the steep hills with no sign of any park or slides.  It was a trek, but worth it when we finally found them.  Part of the slides attraction is the tucked away location that makes you feel like you've stumbled onto a little secret. 

There are scraps of cardboard cut from boxes left in a pile of sand for you to ride on, or you can BYO cardboard.  We also found plastic McDonald's trays that people left behind for riding, and even a metal baking pan, if you're feeling really adventurous.  It's pure reckless fun--the kind that makes you feel like you are six again.  

The slides are deceptively fast.  People sometimes hurt themselves having too much fun.  A little boy actually warned us of its dangers, telling us about his older sister who had to wear a scarf for a month because of a cement burn she got on her neck.  "It's dangerous, you can get really hurt," he said with wide eyes.  Still, how could we resist?  The two slides just beg to be, well, slided on...And since there are two, you can race your friends.   



So if you're looking to get reacquainted with your inner child, or just want to look for something different to do in the city, the slides are worth a visit.  But be conscious of the posted signs about the noise (for the neighbors' consideration), and know that they cite people if you try to slide after hours.  The park is only open from 9am - 5pm, which is a rule that the neighbors make sure is enforced.  I guess if I lived there, I wouldn't want all kinds of drunk crazies trekking to my neighborhood to ride the slides at 2am either. 

How to get there?  The slides are located on Seward and Douglass.  It can be accessed from 20th Ave,  which is very walkable from the Castro neighborhood if you're willing to brave the hike up into the San Francisco hills. 

What Happened in Africa?

Africa is a place of such contrasts.  Its wild and untamed beauty is often masked by the associations we make from western headlines of violence and poverty--and there's no ignoring that that side of it exists, but it's hard to put the words to paper and to describe the kind of experience it was... 

Fia and I met for coffee the other day to reminisce... 

The highlight reel of all the things I never want to forget:

• The image of the isolated airport, so remote, so middle-of-nowhere, and so green--symbolic of the adventure that we'd soon begin
• The mist soaked walk through the falls
• Nami Nami peddlers and learning how to deal with them
• Appreciating the moment for what it is
• Befriending the street hawkers
• That moment when the danger became real in the Compound
• The shock of Bongo getting arrested
• Watching the World Cup game with the raucous crowd at Shoestrings Hostel
• Seeing the wildlife up close
• Cruising down the Zambezi
• The surprise luxury of Botswana
• That first night by the fire
• The 5am starts, and rolling that muddy tent...
• Acclimating to the funky truck water
• Eating lunch on the side of the road
• Laughing it off and adopting the expression, "T.I.A."
• A reminder of what it means to live simply
• The giddy, unsuppressed, uncontrollable laughter
• Tracking rhino Discovery Channel Style with Andy
• Getting up close and personal with a pride of lions--the tension of wondering if we were all going to become lion feed

• Our Mission Impossible stunts and the shenanigans we pulled to crash the volunteer party
• Summer camp style pranks with the Aussie guys
• Buying cashews on the side of the road
• Laying out all night in the hammocks
• Drinking wine on the porch and watching the sunset 
• That tragic night--18-years-old--lost to the sea...recognizing the fragility of life
• Riding in the back of a death trap wind tunnel
• Our visit to the orphanage--a reminder that we do what we can, but it's never enough
• Getting a better understanding of real African politics and how things work 
• Midnight yoga
• Waking up to the sound of the surf outside our bungalow, and going for a morning run on the beach
• That night at the bar--Sean asking "if God would be there"
• Whale watching by speed boat
• Visiting the Soweto township and realizing that this is someone else's reality
• The experience of the Apartheid Museum
• Learning about the world through the eyes of others
• Running to make our flight...would it be a proper trip for the two of us if it didn't involve us madly running through the airport?
• An experience polarized by Toronto--the stark contrast between two worlds

New Mexico in the Wintertime

My first ever white Christmas, and Christmas on the road... 





It's been a long time since all five of us have gotten time together for vacation. And a reminder on why family roadtrips are rough...love them to death, but that many hours in car together would test anyone. Still I wouldn't trade the experience =) 

New Mexico is cold. I hate dressing in so many layers. It's pretty outside, but I'd rather stay here in this cozy adobe house, munching on peanut butter cups from Trader Joes, and enjoying this glass of wine in front of the fire. It's pretty, but I have a new appreciation for the sunny So Cal Christmases.

Puerto Rico--Back to where it all began

I still have vivid impressions of my first airplane ride...I was eight-years-old, and my family was headed to Puerto Rico.  Since then, I've always associated airports with that feeling of electric excitement--a gateway to destinations unknown.  I still store captured images of that magical trip to PR--the tiny frogs that sounded like birds, the strange air that felt stuck (my first experience with humidity), the coconut my dad tried to open by running over with the rental car, the fancy hotel, and the old streets of San Juan.  This trip was special because I'm pretty sure it's where I caught the travel bug that has since festered and grown greedy with need, causing me to feel restless every so often...  

So it only seems fitting that 16 years later, I'm back to where it all began...I can't believe how much things have changed, or maybe it's that I see things differently than from through my eight-year-old lens...

The beauty of Puerto Rico is still as I remember it, but of course much about the island has changed.  I feel a deeper connection with the culture now that I can appreciate the historic context and intermix with some of the local people in Spanish that I've acquired along the way.

This trip marks some new memories...trying to locate the house we rented in the middle of the barrio without street signs, having breakfast on the balcony overlooking the ocean and cemetery (weird mix), munching on fresh BBQ along the pork highway, living on Culebra Island, diving and snorkeling in the aqua colored reefs, jumping in the ocean on a full moon night with newfound friends, returning to the old streets of San Juan, and feeling at ease with island life.

Back to Real Life

After three months away...I'm back home again. It seems like everything should of changed, but things are still the same. I miss traveling the Gringo Trail, but it's still good to be back. I desperately need to do laundry.

It feels strange being behind the wheel again. Driving. Filling my car with gas--all these mundane things that I never thought about while on the road and traveling dirty-backpacker-style. I need to go for a drive and think.

I catch myself slipping in a "gracias" to the clerk when he hands me my change. Things are a little different, but I think it's me who's changed.

Art for Peace: United Buddy Bears

We have to get to know each other better, it makes us understand one another better, trust each other more, and live together more peacefully





We stumbled upon an art exhibit in the middle of one of the open-air plazas of Buenos Aires, Plaza San Martin.  It was hard to miss the colorful, life-size, fiberglass bears all lined in a circular row.  I love the idea of art with a social message.  

The United Buddy Bears, are a traveling world exhibit intended to promote world peace, understanding, and tolerance.  Each of the bears is uniquely designed by an artist from one of the 140 countries recognized by the United Nations.  The bears started their world tour in 2002 in Berlin, and since then have made their rounds to 17 international cities, with the latest being Astana, Kazakhstan.  


The bears are always arranged in a circle to look like they're holding hands.  Too bad peace and cultural acceptance isn't this easy in real life...  

Bikes and Wine

Wine tasting on bikes--what a novel concept!  The town of Mendoza is outfitted perfectly for this activity.  Timmy and I rented bikes for the day from Mr. Hugo's Bike Shop.  It's 50 Argentine pesos for the day, which gets you a map of the wine route and the use of a rickety old bike.  

The late start had us determined to see as many vineyards and do as many tastings as time would allow. We stopped at a food and liquor tasting first, then it was on to the vineyards.  We toured a working vineyard and got to see some of the inner workings of the wine making process.  Then we sampled many glasses of good Argentine wine.  I lost count as the distinctions of each place seemed to blur together past the bucolic scenery. 

The police in Mendoza are very tourist friendly.  Since wine tasting on bikes is such a common activity, they patrol the area looking for wine tasters that have had a few glasses too many, and offer rides to the riders and their bicycles.  When Timmy and I had trouble finding one of the vineyards, a police officer on a motorcycle offered his help.  He ended up giving us a police escort--leading the way on his motorcycle in slow speed so that our bikes could follow--right up to the front doors of the wine tasting room!

At our second to last stop we met Wally, a crazy, fun-loving Canadian from the Yukon.  It was clear Wally came to Mendoza with two goals: to get a tan and to get as drunk as possible while still retaining the ability to ride a bike.  Wally turned everything into a big party.  We joined him and the two girls from New Zealand, shared a bottle or two at the next stop, and marveled at the view of the sun-drenched vineyards from the patio.





Wanting to savor the moment, we lingered a little too long at the last place, and had to race back to return our bikes to Mr. Hugo's on time.  When we got there, Mr. Hugo was throwing a party of his own for all the people who had rented bikes from him.  We sat in his yard, talking, laughing, and drinking some cheap table wine supplied by Mr. Hugo who made everyone feel like family. 

San Telmo Sunday Market

I'm back in BA--and at the right time--just in time to see the streets come alive for the Sunday Market in San Telmo. The streets are littered with blankets of rasta jewelry for sale, food vendors selling baked bread, mate, and fresh squeezed juice, and an antiques market in the public square selling everything from old buttons to chandeliers. Beautiful music floods the streets and tango dancers perform for the crowds. There are enough street performers to make Venice Beach seem like a sideshow.

I can't help but smile, getting swept up in the festive mood of San Telmo. This is the Buenos Aires that I've been waiting to see!




I try to navigate the busy streets with the Australian girl I just met, and we go in search of the fresh fruit stalls. The only thing that could interupt the festivities of the day is bad weather. It starts to pour and we duck into the antiques market to wait out the storm. The tables get folded up, the blankets of jewerly wrapped up, the musicians begin to pack up their instruments, people start scatter like ants--And just like that, the party disappears.

When it rains in Buenos Aires, it really pours! I'm kind of disappointed, but at least I still got to catch a glimpse. Maybe when the rain calms down, I'll get off the computer, and take another look around.

Montevideo, Uruguay

I packed my small daypack and took a three-hour bus from Colonia to Montevideo whose crowded urban sprawl is such a dramatic change from the quiet life in little Colonia. I fall asleep on the bus, and suddenly I'm surrounded by the noise of traffic and car horns. Montevideo's terminal surprises me--it's one of the biggest bus stations I've ever seen (it's also connected to a huge shopping mall).

I head over to the tourist information area, and ask the lady what I can see in Montevideo in ten hours. She starts circling things on the map, telling me excitedly about the big modern shopping mall they have on the edge of the city. She starts rattling off expensive Western brands, and hands me back the map.  I thank her, and smile politely, hoping that it conceals my disappointment.  I didn't come all the way to Uruguay just to shop at stores we have back home.  Instead, I opt to do some exploring on my own.

I exit the station and look around for the intercity buses. I spot one that is marked "Ciudad Viejo." Sounds interesting.  I hop on the bus and hope it will take me somewhere that isn't a mall. As we pull away from the station, the big windows pass views of skyscrapers, old stone buildings, and street markets.  I have no idea where I'm going or where I'll end up, but I'm excited!

Colonia de Sacramento

A short ferry ride from Buenos Aires (1-3 hours) will take you into Colonia de Sacramento, Uruguay. Colonia is a charming little Portugese town officially declared a world heritage site by UNESCO. The cobblestoned streets, fortified walls, and old churches make it seem like you have stepped back in time. There are no traffic signals or stoplights in town. The pace of life is relaxed and mellow--a world away from the chaotic movement of Buenos Aires or even Montevideo, Urugauy's busy capital city.

Another Chinatown

For Mom and Dad: Yes, there is a Chinatown in Argentina.

On almost every family vacation I can recall, the first thing my parents want to see is Chinatown. And there seems to be one in even the unexpected places across the globe. This one is just outside of Buenos Aires, right off of the Belgrano train stop.

So, Mom and Dad, this picture is for you:



It kinda looks like all the others.

Train to El Tigre

For about 80 cents (U.S.) you can catch an hour train ride from Buenos Aires to El Tigre. It's a great day trip to escape the hectic city, and service runs fairly frequently from the Retiro train station.

El Tigre is like Tom Sawyer Island. It's a city that straddles the delta on el Rio de la Plata, and the waterways are the main thoroughfare. Big boats, little boats, and barges that pick up garbage go up and down the river. You can buy fruit and vegetables from the small boats, or watertaxi your way down through town.

All of the houses have their own makeshift little docks, and there are campsites right along the river. People were fishing, swimming, playing volleyball, and doing bellyflops off the small docks. El Tigre is a fun little town to see if you have an extra day in Buenos Aires, especially on the weekends when they have there big markets.