Take Me Out to the Ballgame

In honor of Major League Baseball's Opening Day, I thought I'd share a few photographs of baseball stadiums that I've photographed since moving to California.

First up, Angel Stadium in Anaheim, home of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim:

This picture was taken in a moving car, while driving down Route 57, hence the streaking window reflections.

Next, AT&T Park, home of the reigning World Champions, the San Francisco Giants:

Fun, right? 

Even more fun is the fact that my beloved darlings kicked off the season with a win and a really really wonderful ceremonial first pitch(er). 

Santa Cruz (You're Not That Far)

Yesterday, two friends and I drove along the California coast down to Half Moon Bay, Monterey, Carmel, and Pebble Beach. Pictures and a more thorough explanation of the sights are forthcoming, once I have time to upload. 

On the drive back home, we stopped in Santa Cruz (for the second time that day) to grab dinner at Harbor Cafe. 

Now, on the whole, I think Santa Cruz is a little too hippie-ish for me, and while I don't think this restaurant is an exception, I love it nevertheless. It'd make for an excellent location to host an informal summer event. The restaurant possesses a relaxing vibe, the wait staff is friendly, and the food is delicious and reasonably priced. The place also appears to attract a high number of locals and regular visitors, since the waiters appeared to know nearly all the patrons except for us. 
We sat outdoors, where the bulk of the seating is located, and listened to the live band housed in the establishment's small interior. 

We were lucky; the restaurant is only open for dinner on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, though it is open daily for breakfast and lunch.
Despite the dinner menu being relatively small, I still managed to spend about 10 minutes vacillating between meal options. Harbor Cafe's breakfast menu is extensive though, and looks fantastic, so I'd love to come back here for that particular meal. 

After my long contemplation, I finally ordered the garden burger with a side of french fries, while my friends ordered the turkey burger (substituting the fries for chips and guacamole) and the lime avo salad. 
As I mentioned, the food is fantastic. I'm normally a ketchup fiend, particularly in instances where sandwiches are too dry, but my burger was tender and moist, and had a flavorful seasoning. My friends, too, adored their meals. The guacamole (and avocado from the salad) was a bit hit, and I appreciate that the restaurant serves pita chips instead of the standard tortilla. Creativity, even on a minor level, is often a good thing.

Since I am usually a human vacuum, I also like that there are sizable portions. My meal kept me full for a long time (not always an easy feat), and from what I saw of neighboring patrons' plates, most of the dishes are equally substantial. 

The restaurant also offers some cost-effective drink deals; on the nights that it's open for dinner, from 6-6:30, one can purchase one dollar margaritas. Also, the dinner menu includes a five dollar taco and beer combo. Pretty nice.

It's a shame that Santa Cruz is such a hike, or I could see myself coming back here frequently. This place is definitely worth the visit if you're in the area; I'm already excited to return someday.

Take A Long Drive with Me, On California One

Yesterday, my friends and I drove down the Pacific coastline, via California State Route 1 (more commonly known as Highway 1). Our drive also included a drive around the entirety the 17-Mile Drive, a stretch of road owned and maintained by the Pebble Beach Corporation, and what is said to be one of the most scenic drives in the country. After seeing it, I'm inclined to agree.

Here are lots of pretty pictures so you can fawn over the gorgeousness:

Pebble Beach.

You can't see it in this picture, but there are about 20 sea otters sunning on the sand.

 A Monterey cypress tree known as The Lone Cypress. The tree is a local landmark.

The water is such a rich blue, and I never tired seeing the waves crash up against the rocks, no matter how many times we stopped to take in the view—and we stopped a lot. The drive is peppered with over 20 spots, all of which are laid out in the pamphlet and map provided to passengers upon their entry to the drive.

In other news, this drive reminded me of how badly I want a DSLR. One day. At which point maybe I'll return to this community of pretty.

I Like to Move It

Well. This video is simultaneously one of the most horrifying and hilarious things I've seen in some time:

The video is serving as the new in-flight safety video for New Zealand Airlines. Now, I think there are very few individuals who would be interested in watching Richard Simmons dance around while reciting safety precautions. If the airline's intent is to increase safety video viewership, though, I can see their tactic working. 

I'm 100 percent more likely to give this video at least a portion of my attention than I am the standard safety ones, even if it is just to roll my eyes and/or laugh. It's attention-grabbing in a way that no other airline safety video is. 

It does run the risk of scaring (and scarring) little children, though. Plus, the video would be beyond annoying if you're a frequent flier. Can you imagine watching this a few times a week? And if someone played this for me before 9am (and I say this as a morning person), I'd probably want to set myself on fire. 

Somehow I doubt this will catch on with other airlines.

On An Evening in Roma

Over the weekend, the city of Rome came up in conversation three times in a 36-hour window. I've loved the city since I last visited it in November of 2006, so I thought I'd extend those conversations to this blog. 

First, some random things about Rome that I simply adore:

- Suplees. These edible items are best described as little balls of happiness. They are little appetizers that are generally available in all pizzerias and restaurants. Suplees are egg-shaped; at the center sits a ball of mozzarella, which is surrounded by a marinara sauce and rice combination. The entire concoction is then dipped in batter to create one of the most delicious creations I've experienced. If you ever go there, EAT A SUPLEE. You will thank me, I promise.

- The freshness of the food. I ate pizza and pasta everyday, and at no point did it get old. That's because the ingredients used to make these items, even at restaurants, are so fresh, and the meals lack much of the processing that takes place here in America. 

- The walkability of the city. Although public transportation (such as subways and buses) is available, rarely did I use it to get around Rome. It's generally not necessary, and once you know where you're going, walking around the city is a convenient, healthy, enjoyable, and easy option. 

Next up, a few pictures that are not of the standard Trevi/Vatican/Colosseum variety. I apologize for their general crumminess; my photographic skills have improved since I was 20.

This is Stadio Olimpico, home of A.S. Roma. 

The thousand fountains in the city of Tivoli.

Ok, I lied: Here is a pretty standard (and slightly crooked) shot. This is Vatican City, taken from the top of St. Peter's Basilica.

Rome is one of the cities that strikes a nice balance with its offerings. Being in the city can amount to a cultural, historical, religious, and recreational experience in a way that not many places can. 

I'd love to go back someday, but I'd also love to explore the rest of Italy, and then some. I imagine none of these things will take place any time soon, but I can keep my fingers crossed, right? Right.

A Track and a Train

Public transportation in the Bay Area is a bit of a complicated and confusing process. Unlike New York or DC, which have just one primary method of transport (the Subway and Metro, respectively), there are two major options in the Bay Area, depending on the direction in which you want to travel. 

The BART is most comparable to the Metro—the seating arrangement is similar, it runs on a schedule, and the platforms have signs to inform passengers as to when the next train will be arriving. The ticket and payment operates very similarly to the DC Metro, too, in that the cost is determined by the length of your ride, rather than being a flat rate, á la the Subway. Although its name links it to the Bay Area in general, its primary use is for transportation between the East Bay and San Francisco. I've taken the BART a few times, and it's an easy process, assuming that the stations are in close proximity to where you want to go. 

From northwestern San Francisco (right near AT&T Park) down to San Jose, through what is known as the Peninsula and South Bay, the primary method of public transportation is the Caltrain. 
I took the Caltrain for the first time over the weekend, and it's a lot like the NJ Transit. There are several stations on the line, and as the train is used frequently by commuters on weekdays, there are several express trains that run from Monday to Friday. The process of buying tickets is a little confusing, though—rather than buy tickets from one station to another, one buys tickets from one zone to another. Each zone (there are six in total) comprises anywhere from two to nine stations, so you've got to look at a system map to figure out in what zone your intended destination falls before you can purchase your ticket. 

As I mentioned, these are the primary methods of transportation around the entirety of the Bay Area. But there are several more that operate on a smaller scale; the Muni tackles all public transportation in the city of San Francisco except for the BART, while most other regions in the Bay Area have access to buses. 

It's interesting, though, because while the people in this region pride themselves on conserving energy (and for good reason; there are bikers everywhere), when you really look into it, the region is not all that accessible by public transport. 

I know that probably sounds ridiculous, considering the various transportation methods I just detailed. But their reach is not as extensive as it could be, particularly considering the size of the entire Bay Area. 
The city of San Francisco, in particular, is where this void is most glaring. Once you're in the city, it's pretty difficult to get around from one region/neighborhood to the next, unless you're well acquainted with the Muni Metro or bus system—tourists, most likely, are not. Plus, even once you are familiar with these systems, they don't generally operate that efficiently, so it can be a colossal waste of time to travel this way. 
Driving is often the preferable method of getting around the city, which is problematic because it can be stressful, and because parking is next to impossible to find. 

I recognize that the tectonics of California (especially San Francisco) probably present a difficulty in building an expansive underground transportation system. And even if it were a geological possibility, that kind of system would be immensely difficult to implement at this point in time. 
But it's truly unfortunate that a city as lovely as San Francisco doesn't offer the kind of transportation access that's available in cities such as New York, London, Chicago, and DC. It'd make mobility around the city far easier. 

A Supermarket in California

Yesterday, I went up to the Ferry Building Marketplace in San Francisco. While the Marketplace itself is open daily, the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market is open only on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The Saturday markets are the largest, with tents set up around the Ferry Building and on the building's rear plaza. In addition to the standard market offerings such as local produce, herbs, cheeses, and meats, one can also find local restauranteurs selling some of their cuisine.

My friends and I started out on the rear plaza, where the restauranteurs were set up, and opted for some Mexican food. While they opted for fish tacos, I chose green chile and cheese tamales with a side of black beans. They were extremely filling (masa is so heavy!) and tasty—less spicy than I expected, so that was a little disappointing, but the corn cooked into the inside was a pleasant surprise. 

With our stomachs sated and satisfied, we roamed the remainder of the Marketplace, starting with the remainder of the rear plaza. I enjoyed trying many of the samples, from oranges and nuts, to spices and olive oil, and taking in some of the unique offerings, such as lavender sugar. 

The front of the building offered more of the same, while the building's interior offered more materialistic items such as jewelry, bags, and other tchotchkes. 

Across the street from the Ferry Building, there were tents upon tents of art vendors, selling everything from paintings to clothing. These tents, more than any of the others, were right up my alley. I saw some earrings made from Scrabble tiles; they were cute and funky to look at, but I would judge myself immensely if I ever decided to buy (or heaven forbid, wear) them. Painters' tents boasted painting upon painting of the Golden Gate Bridge, some of which were truly gorgeous. Every tent had something creative and hand-crafted to offer; every tent, of course, except for the one that sold t-shirts stating, "I survived the tsunami, March 11, 2011." I spent about thirty seconds gawking at the sheer incivility of those vendors, before moving on to rage. I don't understand some people.

Midway through our exploration of the art tents, a gathering of cyclists caught our eye. These cyclists were gearing up to participate in the World Naked Bike Ride, and so were clad in various stages of undress, with most opting for full-on nudity. There's nothing like seeing thirty naked bikers to add some entertainment to your day. 

The Marketplace remains open until 6pm on Saturdays, but we opted to head back to the Caltrain station around 2:30. We walked alongside the Bay while enjoying the beautiful weather and the pretty view:

I'm not someone who thrives on organic or fresh produce, though it's certainly a nice thing when you can get it. What I really liked most is the casual environment of the Marketplace; it's a relaxing way to spend a weekend morning, and reminds me of the New York street fairs I used to frequent with my family. 

No, farmers markets aren't anything innovative, but when they're well-arranged, I can't help but find them comforting and enjoyable. The Marketplace is definitely worth a visit.

You Never Give Me Your Money

The New York Times published a piece today in their Practical Travel column, in which author Kevin Salwen discusses the ways in which one can and should spend money when traveling to foreign countries.

Salwen arrives at this conversation after questioning himself on his international spending habits: At what point does one extract his/her wallet, and at what point does one walk away? Is there a correct answer?

It's an interesting line of questioning, and I find the subject matter of the article very compelling; however, I can't help but disagree with many of the comments that Salwen makes.

Salwen states that he and his wife "overbuy gifts for [themselves] and others." I'd argue this is one of the more wasteful ways in which to travel, particularly if those gifts are nothing more than cheap trinkets. So much of traveling, especially internationally, is about immersing oneself what the location has to offer: its culture, its cuisine, its scenery—not its ability to cater to tourism.

I think its best to buy sensibly. Instead of funneling your money towards standard souvenirs, try spending on something unique to the region, or something that you genuinely covet. You're feeding the local economy and you're getting something distinctive in return. Items like handmade jewelry, hand-woven rugs, and pottery, are created at the hands of locals and hold a stronger tie to the region than a factory-made product. I own paintings, clothing, and jewelry that are a lot more valuable to me than a plastic pen boasting the name of a city.

Salwen also addresses the issue of panhandlers, a situation that presents itself everywhere, but particularly in the world's least developed countries. I tend not to give to them, since many are being exploited—how to distinguish between organized begging and genuine deprivation?—but recognize that in many regions, panhandling is a part of the culture, particularly given the level of poverty inundating these places. The dilemma of giving, or even the notion that altruism be conditional, is a conversation for another time, though.

But Salwen advises people not to give on the grounds that doing so sends the wrong message about "dependency and the value of work." As I mentioned above, traveling to a new region is about experiencing a different culture, and oftentimes, that culture includes locals living in extreme poverty. It's not my place to come in as a foreigner and educate someone on how to earn a living, and the idea of doing so seems more than a little arrogant and self-aggrandizing.

On the topic of haggling, Salwen believes that it's better not to decrease your price offer, but rather to increase the quantity received. There's nothing wrong with doing that, but there's nothing wrong with negotiating a lower price, either. In many places, haggling is a part of consumerism, so it's completely expected. Plus, vendors tend to be business savvy; they will inflate their asking price towards tourists, so there's nothing wrong with playing the game, so long as you do it fairly. Rarely will a seller agree to a price that isn't providing them with a profit.

I understand the desire to travel rationally and ethically, but the problem is that these are subjective tenets. The manner in which Salwen travels responsibly comes off as condescending at times, rather than honorable. Instead, the best way to travel ethically is to do so as an educated traveler. That means being aware of customs, knowing what actions are and aren't within the realm of etiquette, and having an understanding of where your money goes when you spend it. Don't be rude and overtip at restaurants, just because you have the money, but don't be a cheapskate and never open your wallet, either. Respect and awareness will go a long way in making you a generous and responsible traveler.

I Celebrate Myself

People tend to hate New Jersey for reasons that I've never been able to understand.

Seriously. I don't get it.

I recognize that there are less-than-stellar elements to the state. For instance, it's home to Camden, a city that consistently rates as one of the top 10 most dangerous cities in America. And most recently, the state's become famous for this little horror. But hey, who's perfect?

The state has plenty of positive attributes to offer: an Ivy League University, beaches such as Long Beach Island and Cape May, a strong historical presence, and no sales tax on clothes and shoes, to name a few. It's also the birthplace of Frank Sinatra, Walt Whitman, and Bruce Springsteen, amongst others.

This post is beginning to sound like a (poorly written) love letter to New Jersey, but I'm just trying to rationalize and comprehend all the hate. I had an extremely enjoyable childhood, in a portion of the state that fosters well-roundedness and diversity; that's more than I can say for several of the people I've met elsewhere. What's so bad about that?

On Monday night, New Jersey made some minor waves in the news, as Congressman Rush Holt defeated Watson on Jeopardy! Score one more for NJ, kids.

For those who don't spend their weekday evenings glued to ABC, shouting questions at the television (nerd alert!), allow me to explain: Watson is a creation that is compromising my Jeopardy viewing experience. That is to say, he is an IBM supercomputer who has been competing against several of the show's winningest players—and some Congressmen, apparently.

While this defeat doesn't actually improve the worth of New Jersey, to me, it just serves as a reminder of how fantastic the state can be, even in the smallest ways.

So instead of laughing and poking fun, perhaps you should get out and visit. Take in a hockey (or basketball) game at the Prudential Center, tour the Victorian homes of Cape May, walk alongside the ivy-covered buildings of Princeton University, or visit the Trenton Battlefield.

It'd be best to stay away from that Camden, though.