I'm insanely obsessive-compulsive, so in preparing to travel anywhere, I always create a series of lists to cover anything and everything. There are packing lists, to-do lists, and occasionally, lists of phone numbers, addresses, and/or confirmation numbers. I also like to do a lot of prep work, if it seems like the trip is going to be a little complicated, or involve something out of the ordinary.
For my trip back east, I had to park my car long-term at San Francisco's airport; this was not a problem, really, except that I had a) never before been to this airport and b) had no idea how to get from the parking lot to the terminal. And the prospect of undertaking something without a little foresight and preparation is always extremely daunting. I don't know how to fly by the seat of my pants.
But the good old internet is really helping the way in which we travel, because I logged onto SFO's website to do some research, and figured out everything I'd need to get from my house to my flight's gate on Sunday morning. Literally, everything, including which restaurants would be in closest proximity to my gate (I really need to stop thinking about food all the time).
I did the same on Philadelphia Airport's website, and didn't fare as well, as the quality of its website is equivalent to the quality of its airport. I'll let you do the math.
I needed to figure out how to get from my arrival gate to the Hertz rental site, since I had a rental car for the week. As I'm (only?) 24, I've obviously never rented a car before, so this was completely new territory for me. The website very succinctly told me to go to Zone 2—this, of course, meant nothing to me.
And so I arrived in Philadelphia on Sunday evening, and proceeded to scrutinize every sign for arrows pointing towards Zone 2. They didn't exist; I instead followed signs for the exit, and it was only upon my arrival there that there were signs for various zones. By some lovely stroke of luck, the Hertz shuttle pulled up at the exact same time I walked out the door, so I didn't have to spend time internally panicking over whether or not I was in the right place.
Within a half hour, I was sitting in the driver's seat of a Nissan Versa, blasting the sweet sounds of Radio 104.5, and driving down the familiar roads of I-95.
My return to California was also seamless, after an initial roadbump: I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to get into the Hertz rental parking lot to return the car. Apparently you don't actually follow directions to the lot's address. Instead, you drive into the airport under "Arrivals," and follow signs for Rental Car Drop-off. Did everybody know this but me? Don't answer that; I don't want to know.
I learned this piece of information purely by chance, after making a few wrong turns (thank you GoogleMaps, for failing me), and trying to salvage the situation by turning again into the arrival lane of the airport.
I get irrationally irate at myself when I make wrong turns or get lost, since I pride myself on being fairly competent when it comes to directions and navigation. Of course, it'd be a lot easier if places could pony up for some well-labeled signs. Finding the long-term parking lot in San Francisco would have been a breeze even if I hadn't looked up directions beforehand.
But once I pulled the car into the Hertz parking lot, everything that followed unfolded calmly and with ease, all the way back to my car in SFO's parking lot.
If there's ever a next time, I'm going to be a pro—and it will be awesome.
April 30, 2011
Learn to Fly
I flew United for the first time in years, during my travel back east. I spent the last three hours of a six-hour flight essentially trying not to waste away, since United is unable even to spring for a measly bag of peanuts or pretzels. I had briefly entertained purchasing food in Philly to eat when the inevitable hunger struck, but opted instead to fit in one last binge on Dunkin' Donuts. It was a really excellent idea at the time.
So instead, I opted to distract myself with my surroundings.
Unfortunately, I had an aisle seat, which means I was in prime location to overhear the uncomfortably garrulous passenger sitting across from me. He spent portions of take-off rambling on about how people bow their heads to avoid getting their necks snapped during plane crashes. Not okay, dude. Thankfully, once we were up in the air, I was able to throw on my headphones and effectively muffle this guy's ramblings.
The in-flight entertainment started up pretty early; the movie they played was How Do You Know. Not even Paul Rudd could save this film for me, so I found myself dozing off about 25 minutes into the movie, despite having downed 20 oz. of coffee about an hour before.
I really liked the constant stream of in-flight entertainment, though. I've never watched The Simpsons in my life before, nor do I care to, but I liked that they played hours of television and movies to keep passengers entertained. Some of the other shows included How I Met Your Mother, Frasier, and, my personal favorite, Cash Cab—the latter of which featured a contestant who was a dead-ringer for Maurice, of Beauty and the Beast fame.
I spent most of my flight reading (The Perks of Being A Wallflower, for those who care) or listening to my iPod as I attempted to fall asleep. And barring my annoying aislemate (yes, I just created that word), the plane ride was pretty peaceful. I flew at night, which was helpful in creating a nice cozy environment in which to sleep, or at least to rest.
So really, the only buzz kill was the lack of sustenance. I toyed briefly with purchasing one of those in-flight meals that probably taste a little stale, but by the time they got to my row (and I was only in 20), there was hardly anything left.
Luckily, SFO is not one of those airports that shuts down at night (Oakland, I'm looking at you), so I was able to pick up a quick bite to eat at one of the coffee shops near the gate, once we'd landed and gotten off the plane.
Overall, United wasn't terrible—the attendants were nice enough, and they had nonstop entertainment. But Southwest still wins, because I always think with my stomach first.
So instead, I opted to distract myself with my surroundings.
Unfortunately, I had an aisle seat, which means I was in prime location to overhear the uncomfortably garrulous passenger sitting across from me. He spent portions of take-off rambling on about how people bow their heads to avoid getting their necks snapped during plane crashes. Not okay, dude. Thankfully, once we were up in the air, I was able to throw on my headphones and effectively muffle this guy's ramblings.
The in-flight entertainment started up pretty early; the movie they played was How Do You Know. Not even Paul Rudd could save this film for me, so I found myself dozing off about 25 minutes into the movie, despite having downed 20 oz. of coffee about an hour before.
I really liked the constant stream of in-flight entertainment, though. I've never watched The Simpsons in my life before, nor do I care to, but I liked that they played hours of television and movies to keep passengers entertained. Some of the other shows included How I Met Your Mother, Frasier, and, my personal favorite, Cash Cab—the latter of which featured a contestant who was a dead-ringer for Maurice, of Beauty and the Beast fame.
I spent most of my flight reading (The Perks of Being A Wallflower, for those who care) or listening to my iPod as I attempted to fall asleep. And barring my annoying aislemate (yes, I just created that word), the plane ride was pretty peaceful. I flew at night, which was helpful in creating a nice cozy environment in which to sleep, or at least to rest.
So really, the only buzz kill was the lack of sustenance. I toyed briefly with purchasing one of those in-flight meals that probably taste a little stale, but by the time they got to my row (and I was only in 20), there was hardly anything left.
Luckily, SFO is not one of those airports that shuts down at night (Oakland, I'm looking at you), so I was able to pick up a quick bite to eat at one of the coffee shops near the gate, once we'd landed and gotten off the plane.
Overall, United wasn't terrible—the attendants were nice enough, and they had nonstop entertainment. But Southwest still wins, because I always think with my stomach first.
April 27, 2011
The Coffee Song
Just dropping in to display one of the best things about the east coast—its good taste:
After I graduated from college, I successfully reduced my coffee intake, reserving consumption primarily for days on which I truly needed the caffeine. Since landing in Philadelphia on Sunday, though, I've been drinking Dunkin' Donuts like it's water. After three days of this behavior, caffeine is sadly no longer having the effect that it should, but it's totally worth it. I'll ween myself off again once I head back west.
After I graduated from college, I successfully reduced my coffee intake, reserving consumption primarily for days on which I truly needed the caffeine. Since landing in Philadelphia on Sunday, though, I've been drinking Dunkin' Donuts like it's water. After three days of this behavior, caffeine is sadly no longer having the effect that it should, but it's totally worth it. I'll ween myself off again once I head back west.
April 10, 2011
Under African Skies
I had Ethiopian food for the first time last night, at Mudai, a restaurant in San Jose.
The interior of Mudai isn't anything overly fancy; the tables and chairs were pretty rudimentary in looks. There appeared to be some authentic Ethiopian drums and other accoutrements located in the inlet behind out table, but beyond that, the remainder of the place was rather sparse.
We ordered family-style, which is customary for Ethiopian meals. We decided upon chicken, alicha lamb tips, and miser kik—lentils in spicy sauce.
Ethiopian food is served unlike anything I've ever had before: The server spoons the dishes out onto a giant piece of enjera (Ethiopian bread), so the bread is essentially serving as an edible plate. In addition, diners are each given a smaller plate of bread to be eaten with the entrées.
Enjera is a bit like a spongy and porous pancake, though without the sweetness, and much larger in size.
The food was amazing. I appreciated that all three dishes were spicy, though not so much that it overwhelmed any other flavor. Each of the three dishes were distinctive, and all were well complimented by the bread. We ordered three entrées for four people, which turned out to be the perfect amount.
San Jose as a city didn't bowl me over—I don't know if I'd recommend a "just for fun" visit, unless it's to Santana Row—but little gems like Mudai make the city worth a visit.
The interior of Mudai isn't anything overly fancy; the tables and chairs were pretty rudimentary in looks. There appeared to be some authentic Ethiopian drums and other accoutrements located in the inlet behind out table, but beyond that, the remainder of the place was rather sparse.
We ordered family-style, which is customary for Ethiopian meals. We decided upon chicken, alicha lamb tips, and miser kik—lentils in spicy sauce.
Ethiopian food is served unlike anything I've ever had before: The server spoons the dishes out onto a giant piece of enjera (Ethiopian bread), so the bread is essentially serving as an edible plate. In addition, diners are each given a smaller plate of bread to be eaten with the entrées.
Enjera is a bit like a spongy and porous pancake, though without the sweetness, and much larger in size.
The food was amazing. I appreciated that all three dishes were spicy, though not so much that it overwhelmed any other flavor. Each of the three dishes were distinctive, and all were well complimented by the bread. We ordered three entrées for four people, which turned out to be the perfect amount.
San Jose as a city didn't bowl me over—I don't know if I'd recommend a "just for fun" visit, unless it's to Santana Row—but little gems like Mudai make the city worth a visit.
April 4, 2011
Too Much Food
A friend and I found ourselves in Mountain View on Saturday night, eager to make use of our weekend night, though in a low-key way.
We met up with another friend, who accompanied us to Tied House Brewery and Cafe, a local brewery that's been in existence for over 20 years.
It's a nice place, though it was surprisingly empty, particularly for a Saturday night. There are several televisions scattered around, many of which were showing the final period of the Sharks game on this particular evening.
Both the food and drink menu are extensive, which I always appreciate. Since Tied House is a brewery, there are always of beers on draft, some of which are consistent, and some of which are seasonal. My friends opted to split an appetizer of buffalo tenderloins, and each got their own raspberry beer—Tied House always has a fruit beer, though the flavor varies on any given night.
Despite having eaten the remainder of my lunch (a Togo's turkey sandwich) a few hours earlier, I found myself inexplicably famished, and so opted for a second dinner. I ordered a cup of chicken tortilla soup with a small Santa Fe salad.
My friends liked the beer, although they agreed that the raspberry flavor caused the drink to be a little too sweet overall. The buffalo tenderloins were a big hit, though, and I loved my fake Mexican meal, particularly the soup—it was thick and flavorful. The salad wasn't anything special (I find jicama a particularly useless item), but the chicken was tender and seasoned nicely, and the entire meal filled me up in a way that the aforementioned sandwich couldn't.
Tied House is definitely worth a visit; it's got a friendly wait staff, a range of tasty food and drinks, and a relaxing but upbeat environment—I'm already looking forward to coming back. There's a nice patio section that will be lovely to sit in when the weather gets nicer, and there's an entire menu of food just waiting to be explored.
We met up with another friend, who accompanied us to Tied House Brewery and Cafe, a local brewery that's been in existence for over 20 years.
It's a nice place, though it was surprisingly empty, particularly for a Saturday night. There are several televisions scattered around, many of which were showing the final period of the Sharks game on this particular evening.
Both the food and drink menu are extensive, which I always appreciate. Since Tied House is a brewery, there are always of beers on draft, some of which are consistent, and some of which are seasonal. My friends opted to split an appetizer of buffalo tenderloins, and each got their own raspberry beer—Tied House always has a fruit beer, though the flavor varies on any given night.
Despite having eaten the remainder of my lunch (a Togo's turkey sandwich) a few hours earlier, I found myself inexplicably famished, and so opted for a second dinner. I ordered a cup of chicken tortilla soup with a small Santa Fe salad.
My friends liked the beer, although they agreed that the raspberry flavor caused the drink to be a little too sweet overall. The buffalo tenderloins were a big hit, though, and I loved my fake Mexican meal, particularly the soup—it was thick and flavorful. The salad wasn't anything special (I find jicama a particularly useless item), but the chicken was tender and seasoned nicely, and the entire meal filled me up in a way that the aforementioned sandwich couldn't.
Tied House is definitely worth a visit; it's got a friendly wait staff, a range of tasty food and drinks, and a relaxing but upbeat environment—I'm already looking forward to coming back. There's a nice patio section that will be lovely to sit in when the weather gets nicer, and there's an entire menu of food just waiting to be explored.
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