San Franciscan Adventures

December 12, 2009 to January 11, 2009

The Photos

San Francisco itself is an awesome area and I know we did NOT do it justice.  So sadly I’m just gonna give highlights...

Pocket Cave ~ Gregory and I did a ton of walking, across the Golden Gate Bridge; to and from Tantra classes; up, down, around and through both San Francisco and Berkeley; in and out of Muir Woods...  So much walking that I wish I’d had a pedometer just out of curiosity.  It’s true that at one point on the GGB (which was neither Golden nor Gated, but I digress) my knee hurt pretty bad, but that’s a low light and I’m focused on the highlight, which was walking hand in hand in pocket with my lover.  A most wonderful way to stay connected and to learn to read each other’s moods.  I am not sure how this translates in the warmer climes we are headed to, but I’m positive we will adjust and evolve.

Wicked Cool... but cooler than cool.  We arrived super early to the theatre on a Thursday night for the ticket lottery they have for each show.  After about 6 people they called my name, which meant we got to purchase ‘Limited View’ seating for $25 per ticket.  Wandered the streets to kill the two hours until show time, then found our seats.  Yep... when they say limited view... they mean Limited View.  Fortunately, Gregory the ninja, knows how to seat jump right as the lights go down and the curtain goes up.  This embarrassed me so completely that I sat there mortified, in the dark with blazing cheeks until the magic of the show took me away.  After the first act, the real owners of our seats showed up, so we booked back to our places to wait for the light/curtain tango and to seat jump again.  Clearly this is more about the experience than the actual musical, but what can I say... you need to see it to believe it because my words could NOT do it justice.  I’m pretty sure I found a rather large hole in the plot as compared to the L. Frank Baum book, which definitely makes me want to read Wicked and possibly other Gregory Maguire stories.  We did try to arrange for me to see it again with Gregory’s friend Brenna, but work overcame her and time ran out.

Muir Woods ~ Beautiful and breathtaking.  We bussed as far as we could to Mill Valley, then asked around for the trail leading to the park.  I’m pretty sure we missed a sign somewhere... not because we weren’t looking for it, but rather because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there.  However, all was not lost as we hitched a ride from a gracious gentleman who deposited us directly at the gate.  Driving in with him, we realized just how much walking he had saved us.  Which makes it so disappointing for us that we can’t remember his name.  As for the woods, again it is the experience more than the woods themselves, but I will say I was initially underwhelmed as all the ‘trails’ seemed to be covered in walkways.  Eventually we were able to get off the beaten path and do some actual hiking.  In that trailing we eventually found a back way out (again with help... fools and small children... that we may be!)

Wandering down the Panoramic Highway to Mill Valley in the dark, we stopped to ask a man in his driveway how far the walk was, he informed us that 1) we had missed the trail head, that 2) it was still quite a ways and that 3) he or someone in his house would be heading to town shortly and could give us a ride.  The long twisty ride back to Mill Valley made me extremely grateful for the kindness of strangers as it had been a long day on my feet and I was beat.

New Year’s Eve ~ Our tantrika mentioned a clothing optional retreat in Middletown, CA called Harbin Hot Springs.  After researching their New Year’s Eve celebration we decided to go.  We rented a white cargo van, which we affectionately name Cracker (using both of our car naming systems in one swell foop!) and hit the road.  Regenerative is just about the best description I can use and despite missing the drum jam, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.  Talking with a lovely couple over breakfast, they suggested we head west to Badoga Bay and then north to find some Redwood camping areas.

...and the fun we had after ~ Badoga Bay was not that exciting, maybe it was the fact that it was New Year’s Day, or possible even that we wanted to see nature more than cities, and even more likely that by the time we got there we had absolutely no idea what we were supposed to be looking for.  Despite their best efforts we were not eaten by the Badoga Bay cannibals (possibly a story for it’s own blog, or perhaps you had to be there!)  We eventually ended up camping in the only open campground on the Avenue of the Giants and hiking just a little to find the largest recorded Redwood and the trees he hangs out with.

Standing among the Redwoods felt almost like home, a little colder than home, but very similar.  I could sense that I was among family, although extended family to be sure.  Giving credence to my thought that ALL trees are connected to each other through their roots, a collective conscience if you will.  Since telling Gregory, he has decided another of his goals is to help me find my home.  I’m not exactly sure what this means, other than maybe I am a tree nymph who has lost her way.

The rushed drive back to Berkeley was not nearly so nice as leisurely making our way to a place unknown, but we needed to return the van by four o’clock.  We made it just in time, even with doubling back two Petaluma exits to drop off our completely non-communicative hitchhiker.

What else... oh yeah, I ran into a tree.  Smacked my left Frontal bone right above the Coronal Suture where it meets the Zygomatic bone (read the outside edge of my left eyebrow!)

(not my actual skull!)

The streets of San Francisco ran with blood... my blood.  While Gregory laughed!  Those of you flick’ring and FaceBooking already know this.  But you all must be wondering how an intelligent girl like myself runs into a tree?  Well, it wasn’t easy.  Long story, still kinda long, we were riding the Muni, as it turned a corner, the bus disconnected from it’s electricity line above.  An intriguing situation to be sure.  Once we disembarked onto the street, Gregory and I began heading to the BART station we had just passed.  Still wide eyed about the bus disconnecting, I was watching Gregory out of the corner of my eye while watching with the rest of my eye as the Muni driver ‘flipped his reins’ to reconnect the bus, leaving no spare eye resources to watch out for stationary objects... like fully grown trees.

Obviously I have lived to blog another day, but damn did I feel stupid.  And as for Gregory laughing, I guess I’ve let you think him a callous cad for long enough.  He held me close, found me napkins to staunch the blood flow, procured antiseptic wipes to clean my wound and band-aids to cover it.  Which for some reason is not enough to remove the sound of his laughter from my traumatized mind.  Fortunately, I know his reactions well enough (and we have talked about it since) that eventually I was able to realize his laughter comes from his fear that I had done myself some real damage.

And so publicly I apologize for the terrible fight we had about the incident.  I love you, Gregory Haley, in my own way... now go make me a grilled cheese sandwich... please.

Next up... leaving San Francisco and possible doubling back on any events I’ve miss in the telling.

Settling in California

December 12. 2009 to December 15, 2009


The Photos


Ah, California or to quote Gregory...

Berkeley, Berkeley, Berkeley (Chanted a la Eddie Murphy from the Nutty Professor)

Originally when I contacted our Tantra coach, I had hoped to stay with her or at least get recommendations for accommodation's.  Not in a position to host us, she suggested a search of Craig’s List.  Once we acquired Amtrak tickets and set up firm dates for our classes, I began to search.  Several intriguing offers presented themselves, the most tantalizing find... a student headed home for the holidays.  She was going to be gone from December 12th to January 10th, almost exactly the length of our course.  The asking price of $100 a week, for one bedroom in a three bedroom Victorian, with three flatmates, fit perfectly within our budget even giving us some flexiblility of funds.  It seemed perfect and I wanted to book it at once.  I was almost devastated as it seemed like someone already in town would likely get it but we eventually transferred $100 to her bank account to hold the room for us.  And, with lightened step and heavy backpack we headed to Berkeley.

... via an exhausting train ride.  Pricewise, Amtrack to California versus Greyhound to California is roughly the same.  Timewise... still up for debate having no reference information as to whether Greyhound had similar (or possibly even worse) weather conditions to deal with.  Foodwise, fairly sure it’s a tossup, since we didn’t really stop for food a lot on Greyhound and the stops I remember were Subway and McDonald’s which are cheap but not great versus the expense of a (arguably decent) prepared meal on the train and the complete lack of planning on our part to bring our own snacks and not pay exorbitant depot prices for crackers and sweetly flavored water.  Comfortwise, Amtrak is clearly the winner (unless you like it cool for sleeping but that may have just been the ‘broken’ train we were on.)  Real Reclining Seats, Multiple Electrical Outlets, Leg Stretching Room, Sunny Lounge Car, Dineresque Dining Car, Unknown Sleeping Bunks (cause we didn’t pay the additional hotel prices for beds!) and Bathrooms Galore.  We read, we watched movies, we slept, we ate... all while effortlessly moving westward.  And despite the ease with which we were traveling, it was an exhausting nearly 36 hours.

Ah, Leg Room (and Breggie!)

When I initially arranged our trip via Amtrak, I thought we needed to go to San Francisco proper (and we would have if I hadn’t found us the sweet housing deal.)  The train only goes as far as Emeryville with a connecting bus to the city.  Gregory soon figured out that we didn’t need to spend the time (or money) crossing the bay just to have to find our way back to Berkeley.  Talking to fellow pasengers on the train, we were told that a cab to Berkeley would be cheap enough and deliver us directly to our destination in easily less than half the time.  Catching a cab proved slightly more difficult, as Eddie Izzard pointed out in Dress to Kill, ‘...Taxis!  Of which there are *five*!  Five taxis, all going,  "I got people in."  Then when you get in, they don't know where they're going.’  Just before giving up and walking (not really... we had NO idea which direction to even start in!) our cab showed up.

Arriving at our new digs, we were pleasantly surprised to find we were diagonally across the street from the best grocery store in Berkeley, the Berkeley Bowl.  Gregory was almost dancing in the streets because he had been there on his last trip.  Of course, we went that very night to get food for the week and it was a pretty amazing place I have to say.  To me it seemed like a cross between a Fiesta and a Whole Foods/Central Market.  The produce and meat departments were very Fiesta like but the bulk goods and just about everything else in the store was Wholly Central Market.  Also of note, there was a Bikram yoga studio only a couple of blocks down the road with a super cheap introductory price to boot and a BART station right around the corner.

Cool Digs

We had absolutely no problem settling in and meeting the other flatmates, Jason from Arizona and Sandra and Damien, from Spain and France respectively.  Early into our stay we even prepared a meal for the 5 of us plus a neighbor.  Gregory and I made Pasta Primavera and (accidently overtoasted) garlic bread while Sandra made a mouth watering salad with the incredients that Jason procurred.  In typical Gregory style he learned a lot about them all and in typical Rebecca style I learned about them through listening to Gregory... we’ll see if that trend can shift some as we continue to travel.

Tantra classes started almost immediately.  Our coach, Jan Robinson, talked us through what expectations and goals had brought us to her and quickly assessed a plan of attack.  Sometimes it felt a little more like couples counseling than tantra, but her understanding (and ours as well) of how we already communicate and how to communicate better give us a good foundation to build on.  We defintely took a lot from the course and suggest it to anyone interested, but we do wish we had started it in Dallas, where there is less city exploration to be done.

Soon... more blogging... more fun! (and maybe even a ranty post about why this blogging thing seems so difficult, but maybe not.)

Words are not enough...

December 5, 2009 to December 11,2009

The Photos

Since last YOU heard from us, we had finished the City Museum in Saint Louis and we headed to points west... long pause... you kept checking back wondering if we were ok... wondering if one of us had killed the other... just wondering...

I’m sorry.  We are fine and currently tooling down the highway toward Long Beach and then further on to Tuscon... Feeling all the shoulda’s following me and making me feel bad.  Realizing that blogging when things are going right is slightly harder than bitching about what’s wrong (that’s Gregory’s supposition and it’s starting to sound correct!)

Let’s quickly get you caught up on what’s happening!

We moved from one lovely hostess to another by Greyhounding it to Columbia, MO to stay with the sweet and generous, hatedome queen Kara Carr (and her equally sweet and generous but much less hatedomey Ian!)  We stayed for 2 nights and had wonderful conversations, a round of the Glass Bead Game and then that hateful hussy put us to work sheetrocking her ceiling.  I mean WTH, we’re on vacation...

J/K it was great.  We got to contribute (which we love) and now everytime Kara and Ian look up at the ceiling they will think of us (and whoever else helps them with the next step.)  We got to meet her awesome Papa, who suppervised the construction and generally just got to hang out with wonderful people that we love.  Monday morning came early and Kara dropped us off at the Greyhound Station to start our long and weary trip to Denver, CO to spend some quality time with my dear friend David Price (and his foxy lady Laura!)

Backtracking just a little, let’s talk about Greyhound.  What an interesting way to travel (and I mean interesting in the way Gregory sees interesting which is what people tend to say when they don’t want to say something bad to one’s face!)  Don’t get me wrong, I would definitely do it again, just not anytime soon and not for a great distance.  For the most part it seems a very lonely way to travel and the people traveling seem fairly desperate but not for companionship just to be someplace different.  But enough of that... On to Denver.

David picked us up in downtown Denver and trekked us home to his den at the end of an icy roaded cul-de-sac on the outskirts of town.  He has a personable book and art filled territory with a genuine homey feel and a snowfilled garden that Laura adores.  Despite having to work some, David was just about the perfect host, giving us plenty of time to internet, though not to blog apparently ;-) and then carting us around to find entertainment at the best damned brewery in the states, New Belgium Brewery.

Their beer is TEH awesome, their brewery tour is phenomenal and everyone should have at least one Abby Ale... the award winning amber ale that started as the VERY first homebrew attempt of a truly exceptional man!  We made an expedition into Denver proper to spend some money at REI (the biggest one in the world and the one that started it all), to oggle the exhibits at the Denver Art Museum (‘DAM, that’s art?’), to learn some history (or attempt to anyway) at the Colorado History Museum and wound up the day meeting Laura at the WynKoop Brewery for dinner.

Eventually we prepared to say our goodbyes to the Colorado pack and Gregory arranged a brief hello/goodbye visit with Nikki Whitfield, who graciously drove us to the Amtrak station, where every click of the track was further west than I had ever traveled.

Next stop... getting to Berkeley, CA and the life we lived there.