Thursday, February 25, 2010
here Caroline
Hiii
so this is me making a formal apology for being probably the worst blogger in the history if the universe... Travel allows very little time alone and plus writing a blog from a cell phone is just annoying. My hand already sort of hurts from typing all this.
So when I left off we were starting out in San Francisco. For the first few nights we stayed in berkeley with a very nice couchsurfer named Michael who spoke lots of different languages snd took us to some of the best Thai food I've had... And really different from appeThaizing. Cali's Thai food seems to be a lot more authentic than what we eat in ny.
San Fran was fun but I'll keep it short and sweet... We drank champagne on a street corner, slept on the beach which we thought would be fun but was just sketchy because we were in a city and sandy and damp because we were literally 2ft away from the ocean... Everyone everyone in sf thought we were homeless because of our bags so we got some not so nice treatment in stores and restaurants.
Actually, this trip so far has really given me a lot of perspective on what it is to be homeless, whether actually homeless due to necessity, or travelers like we are. It is extremely extremely hard to live off the board, especially in a big city where people pretend not to see you except to make you feel unwelcome. There are very few public restrooms and drinking fountains and one night when Christian and I were walking big sur in the pouring rain and had ticks and there was no shoulder on the road (and did I mention it was pouring?) not a single person slowed down to see if we were okay.
It's weird because I understand the reasoning for avoiding the homeless, because you never know what someone will do, especially if desperate, but it's sad it has to be that way. And it doesn't, not really. And many people you'll meet have a story. We met a man in a coffeeshop in San Luis obispo who I'm pretty sure was god, but he had been homeless before and even now was treated as though homeless due to his long beard and single long long dreadlock running down his back, but he was an ordained Buddhist monk and an architect. Anyway.
After sf we went to Santa Cruz and couchsurfed with some awesome people living on land they were in the process of turning into an organic farm, and they had two mini-goats and a little creek in back with a rope swing and whatnot. Santa cruz was an awesome awesome place, almost didn't want to leave.
But we did and biked all the way to Monterey which is 40 miles! But forty miles proved too ridiculous for us and we ended up ditching the bikes in big sur. Nothing all too special happened in monterey, we were too poor to go to the aquarium and there isn't much else to do, but we stayed there waaaay too long, mostly because we were recovering from our bike trip but also because we just could not figure out the travel thing. We almost bought a car until we realized that would be stupid. We took the bus the 20 miles to big sur.
On the bus we met two crazies who told us all about big sur and what to see, which ended up in us walking fifteen miles in the dark and the rain to get to this place we weren't entirely sure existed
but sure enough, at 12:45am we arrived at esalen, where fifteen minutes later a woman with an Australian accent came riding up the hill in a go cart and took us down to the natural hot springs that were right on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean.
It was all very surreal, maybe because Christian and I both fell asleep in the tubs and had to be woken up. Anyway we didn't have anywhere to camp, not realizing in advance that highway one through big sur is surrounded on one side by cliffs going up and on the other side by cliffs going down.. To the ocean. The esalen people felt sorry for us so they told us of a common area for esalen people about a mile and a half up the road where we could sleep.
We got there and walked up to one of the buildings where we found an old woman with a broken nose and toe smoking out of a bong behind a bamboo screen. I assume she was the caretaker but she felt sorry for us (I guess we looked pretty pathetic) and kept saying "bless you, bless you" and let us stay there. On big comfy couches after a hard night of tick bites and walking and a week of straight camping before then during which I accidentally set myself on fire trying to get a campfire started. Lohveleh.
And then (sorry mom)we woke up and hitched a few rides OUT of big sur with some of the nicest people- an older man who is a therapist who also has an organic farm in Hawaii that is always looking for people to go help out (wwoof) and a nice older couple who took us 80 miles to san Luis obispo, I think because they were worried about us and didn't want anyone scary picking us up, which was nice and certainly appreciated, especially because we covered 90 miles in one day, which was unexpected. But although I had such a good experience hitchhiking, I'm not pushing my luck, and from what I hear the 1 is a relatively safe place to hitchhike (especially through big sur because it's mostly tourists driving through) and we were safe, buuut I'm not going to do anymore hitchhiking on this trip.
Anyway after fifteen miles of walking in the rain with 100 more to go til civilization, you'll find your mind opens up to hitchhiking just a little bit. We're getting a 60 day greyhound bus pass for this coming leg of the journey.
We're in Santa Barbara now, staying with some of phil grajko's friends who were nice enough to have us, and headed to la as soon as Christian wakes up.
I'll try to be a better blogger in the future I swear
love and well wishes
Jackie
so this is me making a formal apology for being probably the worst blogger in the history if the universe... Travel allows very little time alone and plus writing a blog from a cell phone is just annoying. My hand already sort of hurts from typing all this.
So when I left off we were starting out in San Francisco. For the first few nights we stayed in berkeley with a very nice couchsurfer named Michael who spoke lots of different languages snd took us to some of the best Thai food I've had... And really different from appeThaizing. Cali's Thai food seems to be a lot more authentic than what we eat in ny.
San Fran was fun but I'll keep it short and sweet... We drank champagne on a street corner, slept on the beach which we thought would be fun but was just sketchy because we were in a city and sandy and damp because we were literally 2ft away from the ocean... Everyone everyone in sf thought we were homeless because of our bags so we got some not so nice treatment in stores and restaurants.
Actually, this trip so far has really given me a lot of perspective on what it is to be homeless, whether actually homeless due to necessity, or travelers like we are. It is extremely extremely hard to live off the board, especially in a big city where people pretend not to see you except to make you feel unwelcome. There are very few public restrooms and drinking fountains and one night when Christian and I were walking big sur in the pouring rain and had ticks and there was no shoulder on the road (and did I mention it was pouring?) not a single person slowed down to see if we were okay.
It's weird because I understand the reasoning for avoiding the homeless, because you never know what someone will do, especially if desperate, but it's sad it has to be that way. And it doesn't, not really. And many people you'll meet have a story. We met a man in a coffeeshop in San Luis obispo who I'm pretty sure was god, but he had been homeless before and even now was treated as though homeless due to his long beard and single long long dreadlock running down his back, but he was an ordained Buddhist monk and an architect. Anyway.
After sf we went to Santa Cruz and couchsurfed with some awesome people living on land they were in the process of turning into an organic farm, and they had two mini-goats and a little creek in back with a rope swing and whatnot. Santa cruz was an awesome awesome place, almost didn't want to leave.
But we did and biked all the way to Monterey which is 40 miles! But forty miles proved too ridiculous for us and we ended up ditching the bikes in big sur. Nothing all too special happened in monterey, we were too poor to go to the aquarium and there isn't much else to do, but we stayed there waaaay too long, mostly because we were recovering from our bike trip but also because we just could not figure out the travel thing. We almost bought a car until we realized that would be stupid. We took the bus the 20 miles to big sur.
On the bus we met two crazies who told us all about big sur and what to see, which ended up in us walking fifteen miles in the dark and the rain to get to this place we weren't entirely sure existed
but sure enough, at 12:45am we arrived at esalen, where fifteen minutes later a woman with an Australian accent came riding up the hill in a go cart and took us down to the natural hot springs that were right on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean.
It was all very surreal, maybe because Christian and I both fell asleep in the tubs and had to be woken up. Anyway we didn't have anywhere to camp, not realizing in advance that highway one through big sur is surrounded on one side by cliffs going up and on the other side by cliffs going down.. To the ocean. The esalen people felt sorry for us so they told us of a common area for esalen people about a mile and a half up the road where we could sleep.
We got there and walked up to one of the buildings where we found an old woman with a broken nose and toe smoking out of a bong behind a bamboo screen. I assume she was the caretaker but she felt sorry for us (I guess we looked pretty pathetic) and kept saying "bless you, bless you" and let us stay there. On big comfy couches after a hard night of tick bites and walking and a week of straight camping before then during which I accidentally set myself on fire trying to get a campfire started. Lohveleh.
And then (sorry mom)we woke up and hitched a few rides OUT of big sur with some of the nicest people- an older man who is a therapist who also has an organic farm in Hawaii that is always looking for people to go help out (wwoof) and a nice older couple who took us 80 miles to san Luis obispo, I think because they were worried about us and didn't want anyone scary picking us up, which was nice and certainly appreciated, especially because we covered 90 miles in one day, which was unexpected. But although I had such a good experience hitchhiking, I'm not pushing my luck, and from what I hear the 1 is a relatively safe place to hitchhike (especially through big sur because it's mostly tourists driving through) and we were safe, buuut I'm not going to do anymore hitchhiking on this trip.
Anyway after fifteen miles of walking in the rain with 100 more to go til civilization, you'll find your mind opens up to hitchhiking just a little bit. We're getting a 60 day greyhound bus pass for this coming leg of the journey.
We're in Santa Barbara now, staying with some of phil grajko's friends who were nice enough to have us, and headed to la as soon as Christian wakes up.
I'll try to be a better blogger in the future I swear
love and well wishes
Jackie
Friday, February 5, 2010
greetings earthlings
so, we landed safely in sunny california, which at the time was locked into a state of emergency, the streets underwater from this torrential downpour, complete with people screaming, dogs stuck in canals, the whole shebang. luckily it had stopped raining by the time our train pulled into the emeryville train station, not that it mattered to me since i was going straight to the bosom of my family up in tuolumne, california, but all the same it was nice not to get drenched.
but i'll backtrack. the train ride was boring, cramped, and absolutely fantastic because i got to have a bed all to myself, and a room with a door, and a shower down the hall, and a real [looking] meal served in a different car at a table with a real [looking] plate and real [looking] silverware and everything. i think i'd like to travel by train forever. it was wonderful. except i think us being let on was a fluke of some sort, the apparent age restriction being one million years or older, no exceptions, plus the two tickets cost us about 650 dollars. so much for "costing the same as a plane ticket".
i narrowly escaped the mystery death sickness that was taking 560 by storm when we left, thank god. quentin, who i was sure was contaminated, very generously took us to the train station in kevin's car, which i was also sure was contaminated, but i'd been inhaling thyme like it was oxygen and drinking gallons of echinacea tea before i left so i got out unscathed. imagine having westcott death on a 56 hour train ride, no thanks.
Upon arrival in Chicago the next morning, we were told our layover would be four hours, and that our sleeper-car tickets granted us access to the First Class Lounge. WELL.
Since our layover was so long, we were walking around the city exploring, Christian in his mismatched secondhand clothes, with his unshaven face and dirty hair, I in my leggings with the legs different lengths, a scarf tied around my waist, orange hat and orange gloves, both of us looking especially homeless, and we were approached by another homeless man who needed a place to sleep that night, and understandably assumed that we would be the experts on such subjects. First Class Lounge, athankyou.
But we saw the Great Lake that's on the edge of Chicago (Superior? Who knows, it was nine blocks away from the train station), and got Chicago deep dish pizza (twice. in four hours. bleurgh), and sat sipping free soda in the First Class Lounge while we puzzled over what the hell we were going to do with our bags, which weighed about forty pounds a-piece, no joke.
We ended up gutting them on the train. I had to throw out a lot of clothing and a bag of medicine. I learned my lesson about overpacking, throwing all that perfectly good stuff away was painful. We couldn't bring ourselves to throw out the medicine so we put it all into a ziploc bag and left it on a park bench, hoping someone who needed it would find it. Probably it got thrown out but at least we tried.
We met lots of interesting people on the train: there was a mother and daughter from Sioux City, Iowa. They had golden retrievers and reported mysterious smells in Sioux City of which nobody seemed to know anything about, except that the smells were bad. We met a couple who were quite blatantly talking dirty to each other across the table from us, but either they thought we couldn't hear them, or that we were too young to understand what was going on (tee-hee). I like to pretend they were running away together, because they were talking REALLY DIRTY to each other, but probably they were just recently remarried or revamping their marriage or something or other. But let's pretend they were having an affair, it's more fun :D
The sleeper-car train ride was beautiful and depressing, alternately. We rode through the Midwest and there was so much desolation and short brown grass and trees with their sparse leaves like burned pieces of paper holding on for dear life to the branches, and we saw the backs of warehouses and mobile homes and I thought of the poor families who had to live in those brown and gray sad places right, RIGHT next to the train tracks with the dirty dusty trains coming by every few hours to shake the picture frames off their walls. Blech. It made me want to knock down those ugly yellowing warehouses with their orange fluorescent lighting and all their trash blowing around.
After the flat brown ickiness of the Midwest (no offense Claire & Bev ;D), we went through the Rockies, which was gorgeous, but almost made everything doubly depressing because it was so, so beautiful, but suddenly seemed very very temporary. I feel like these developers and corporations and factories are these big Pacmans, and they're really good at Pacman, and I'm the stupid little ghost, and everything's being eaten all up faster than anyone can stop it. I know what I saw on the train was in all likelihood the asshole of the Midwest (sorry), but still, I never realized how untouched and pristine New York State seems compared to other parts of this country. Even in California the land is being eaten up by housing developments and whatnot. Up in the mountains where my grandparents live, the ground is littered with rocks. The rock, according to my Grandma, is where the ground had been exposed during the Gold Rush, where miners washed away the soil looking for the gold, and left thousands upon thousands of boulders just sort of standing there with stupid looks on their faces. BUT THERE ARE LLAMAS :D
Anyway. After a very relaxing and well-fed two weeks with my grandparents, tomorrow kicks off the real first leg of the journey. Christian's been down in San Francisco for two weeks, and has managed to stay out of harm's way, except that his bag was stolen in Golden Gate Park this weekend. bye bye expensive tent, all our first aid stuff, his W2 (complete with social security number), birth certificate and clothing. Ouch.
Miss you all. There's an ice storm heading for New York AS WE SPEAK. drive carefully, i expect you all to be there alive and well when we get back.
I had some pictures for you but they failed to upload. Wanh wanh.
but i'll backtrack. the train ride was boring, cramped, and absolutely fantastic because i got to have a bed all to myself, and a room with a door, and a shower down the hall, and a real [looking] meal served in a different car at a table with a real [looking] plate and real [looking] silverware and everything. i think i'd like to travel by train forever. it was wonderful. except i think us being let on was a fluke of some sort, the apparent age restriction being one million years or older, no exceptions, plus the two tickets cost us about 650 dollars. so much for "costing the same as a plane ticket".
i narrowly escaped the mystery death sickness that was taking 560 by storm when we left, thank god. quentin, who i was sure was contaminated, very generously took us to the train station in kevin's car, which i was also sure was contaminated, but i'd been inhaling thyme like it was oxygen and drinking gallons of echinacea tea before i left so i got out unscathed. imagine having westcott death on a 56 hour train ride, no thanks.
Upon arrival in Chicago the next morning, we were told our layover would be four hours, and that our sleeper-car tickets granted us access to the First Class Lounge. WELL.
Since our layover was so long, we were walking around the city exploring, Christian in his mismatched secondhand clothes, with his unshaven face and dirty hair, I in my leggings with the legs different lengths, a scarf tied around my waist, orange hat and orange gloves, both of us looking especially homeless, and we were approached by another homeless man who needed a place to sleep that night, and understandably assumed that we would be the experts on such subjects. First Class Lounge, athankyou.
But we saw the Great Lake that's on the edge of Chicago (Superior? Who knows, it was nine blocks away from the train station), and got Chicago deep dish pizza (twice. in four hours. bleurgh), and sat sipping free soda in the First Class Lounge while we puzzled over what the hell we were going to do with our bags, which weighed about forty pounds a-piece, no joke.
We ended up gutting them on the train. I had to throw out a lot of clothing and a bag of medicine. I learned my lesson about overpacking, throwing all that perfectly good stuff away was painful. We couldn't bring ourselves to throw out the medicine so we put it all into a ziploc bag and left it on a park bench, hoping someone who needed it would find it. Probably it got thrown out but at least we tried.
We met lots of interesting people on the train: there was a mother and daughter from Sioux City, Iowa. They had golden retrievers and reported mysterious smells in Sioux City of which nobody seemed to know anything about, except that the smells were bad. We met a couple who were quite blatantly talking dirty to each other across the table from us, but either they thought we couldn't hear them, or that we were too young to understand what was going on (tee-hee). I like to pretend they were running away together, because they were talking REALLY DIRTY to each other, but probably they were just recently remarried or revamping their marriage or something or other. But let's pretend they were having an affair, it's more fun :D
The sleeper-car train ride was beautiful and depressing, alternately. We rode through the Midwest and there was so much desolation and short brown grass and trees with their sparse leaves like burned pieces of paper holding on for dear life to the branches, and we saw the backs of warehouses and mobile homes and I thought of the poor families who had to live in those brown and gray sad places right, RIGHT next to the train tracks with the dirty dusty trains coming by every few hours to shake the picture frames off their walls. Blech. It made me want to knock down those ugly yellowing warehouses with their orange fluorescent lighting and all their trash blowing around.
After the flat brown ickiness of the Midwest (no offense Claire & Bev ;D), we went through the Rockies, which was gorgeous, but almost made everything doubly depressing because it was so, so beautiful, but suddenly seemed very very temporary. I feel like these developers and corporations and factories are these big Pacmans, and they're really good at Pacman, and I'm the stupid little ghost, and everything's being eaten all up faster than anyone can stop it. I know what I saw on the train was in all likelihood the asshole of the Midwest (sorry), but still, I never realized how untouched and pristine New York State seems compared to other parts of this country. Even in California the land is being eaten up by housing developments and whatnot. Up in the mountains where my grandparents live, the ground is littered with rocks. The rock, according to my Grandma, is where the ground had been exposed during the Gold Rush, where miners washed away the soil looking for the gold, and left thousands upon thousands of boulders just sort of standing there with stupid looks on their faces. BUT THERE ARE LLAMAS :D
Anyway. After a very relaxing and well-fed two weeks with my grandparents, tomorrow kicks off the real first leg of the journey. Christian's been down in San Francisco for two weeks, and has managed to stay out of harm's way, except that his bag was stolen in Golden Gate Park this weekend. bye bye expensive tent, all our first aid stuff, his W2 (complete with social security number), birth certificate and clothing. Ouch.
Miss you all. There's an ice storm heading for New York AS WE SPEAK. drive carefully, i expect you all to be there alive and well when we get back.
I had some pictures for you but they failed to upload. Wanh wanh.
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