The magical Yeti cooler of hangover cures

Friday, September 28th 2018

Lake Conroe, TX 

It’s 1pm CST and my parents are picking me up at the Embassy Suites in Houston, TX. I just finished working the Grace Hopper conference and am exhausted and so, so hungover. My Dad immediately grabs my bag and offers my a chilled, coconut-flavored La Croix from the Yeti cooler in the back of their Explorer. I am grateful.

Our first stop is Starbucks. My Dad recently got on board with the Keto diet and has discovered the joy of high fat coffee. Once we grab our drinks we return to the back of the truck where he produces a pint of heavy cream from his magical Yeti cooler of hangover-cures.

Our next stop is brisket. We stop at Pappas and it’s as Texan as you can get. The food is served cafeteria-style, followed with a self-serve onion and pickle bar and complimentary soft serve ice cream. I eat slowly and tell my parents about how my coworkers insisted on eating sushi for most of our trip.

Per my suggestion, we have rented a condo on Lake Conroe for the weekend. The plan is to sit by the lake and eat BBQ. We make one last stop at a small grocery store. We grab steaks and broccoli for a late dinner and finally check into our condo. The entire complex is silent and our unit is decorated as though Whole Earth Provisions was having a yard sale. I am part charmed and part offended. There is a large balcony that protrudes over the lake and the screen door is covered in little bugs. 

Once we get settled, we spend the early evening catching up and then cook a light dinner paired with a really nice Cabernet and cheese plate. Around 11pm we are finally ready for bed. We agree to sleep as late as we want and I have never been so happy to fall into bed.

Goodbye Shalimar, hello Los Angeles

Sunday, September 23rd 2018

Shalimar, FL and Los Angeles, CA

It’s 8:30am CST and I am packing up for my trip back to LA. I am staying in a small guest apartment at the Bob Hope Village, which is a retirement community for veterans and their spouses. A list of check out instructions was left on my door last night. There are about 30 steps, including taking out my own trash. Initially I plan on ignoring the instructions, but then I get scared. After all, this is the military I’m dealing with. I complete the full check out procedure and, as a result, end up at my grandmother’s door 5 minutes late. 

I only have a few hours before I have to leave for my mid-afternoon flight. We hang out in her apartment for a little bit. I help install her new lamp shade and we marvel at its beauty. Around 10am we head out for a trip to CVS to buy a battery operated alarm clock and then to brunch. CVS is empty and the whole staff comes over to help us. They are visibly charmed my grandmother and her aversion to all technology, including digital clocks. She only wants one with hands and it takes nearly 3 people to go dig one out of the back.

Once we are done with CVS, we drive over to a cafe called Joe & Eddy’s for a late breakfast. To my surprise, the food is excellent. I order a large omelette and a side bacon and eat every bite. The coffee is just okay. After breakfast we still have about 30 minutes before I need to leave, so we spend it lounging in the coffee corner of the main lobby of her building. We small talk with the passing nurses and take a few too many selfies on Snapchat. 

Soon it’s time to go and I have a hard time saying goodbye. I vow to call more often and to come visit soon. 

The drive back to Pensacola is easy. I arrive at the airport way too early and end up drinking two glasses of Chardonnay before the plane arrives. During the fight back I am inexplicably emotional. Primarily, I feel an overload guilt, which is somehow amplified by the kindness of everyone I met in Shalimar. I also feel a sense of relief from stress that I didn't know that I had. I guess I was very worried about making every minute of this trip count and my travel problems on day one compounded this significantly. Finally, I feel great sadness for grandmother and everyone else that lives at Bob Hope Village. It's a lonely place.    

When I finally get to my car at the Venice office I burst into tears. I cry the whole way back home to east LA. 

The elusive Jitterbug

Saturday, September 22nd 2018

Shalimar, FL

It’s 7:30am CST and I am at the Bob Hope Village, knocking on my grandmother’s door for our birthday breakfast date. I am running on a 20 minute power nap and zero coffee. I have one full day with my grandmother to celebrate er 92nd birthday and I will make the  most of it. 

She answers the door only halfway dressed for breakfast and looks surprised that I am on time. I hug her and proudly announce that, of course, I’m on time. She says that she better hurry up and get dressed and I agree. 

We eat breakfast in the dining room of her building. We sit at a table with 2 of her friends, Sophia, who is French, and Tim, who is an ex-chaplain. Bob Hope Village is a retirement community for military officer veterans and their spouses. The community is an extremely interesting mix of nationalities and politics. My grandmother lived in Russia for many years with her late husband as part of several Cold War operations and many other members of the Bob Hope Village have similar stories. 

While the company is good, the food is abysmal and the coffee is even worse. After breakfast, she takes me to the “coffee corner” in the main lobby, where we can drink unlimited coffee from the community Keurig and watch people walk by. Several residents and staff members stop by to chat with us. I know that my grandmother wants to show me off and I am embarrassed but strangely affirmed at the same time. 

When we discuss the day, my grandmother announces that she really wants to go to Walmart and buy a lamp shade. We explore a few other ideas, but Walmart is the clear front runner. I agree and we head out to my rental to make the drive. My grandmother insists on giving me directions and after only a few wrong turns, we safely arrive at the Walmart Supercenter in Ft. Walton Beach. We spend about an hour walking around and end up buying shampoo and a lamp shade. At one point, I wonder how she ended up with a lamp without a lamp shade, but then I remind myself that it doesn't really matter. We are here to have fun in Walmart. 

Next, we drive to the Longhorn Steakhouse to meet one of her friends for lunch. We arrive a little bit early and catch up over Diet Coke and water while we wait for Teresa. Once she arrives we order. My grandmother gets shrimp kabobs, Teresa orders a salad and I get a small steak with spinach. My grandmother alternates between musing on how tired I must feel and encouraging me to order some wine to go with my steak. I am running on fumes and decline the lunchtime wine multiple times. I want to yell that I don't want a nap, but I hold it together. 

Eventually, our conversation turns to something called a Jitterbug. It takes me a few minutes to deduce this is a cell phone designed for seniors. My grandmother, who is extremely tech adverse, has interest in owning a Jitterbug. I am over the moon! 

After lunch, I make a few calls to electronics stores to see who may have a Jitterbug that we can go look at. Having not bought electronics in real life in the last 5 years, it takes me a few minutes to remember who sells cell phones. The consensus seems to be Sears, which is just around the corner. We walk into the Sears in Ft. Walton Beach and it’s just as I remember from my childhood.   

A very nice woman offers to help us immediately. They do not have a Jitterbug in stock, but she invites us to sit down on one of their couches while she asks around. The store is empty and spends nearly 30 minutes finding a Jitterbug for us at Best Buy and getting to know my grandmother. I forgot how southerners add the word “Miss” in front of the names of older women. It's incredibly charming. I sit quietly as the two of them make friends. My lack of sleep slowly starts to creep up on me and I am all of the sudden overwhelmed by emotion. First I feel guilt for only visiting once a year. Second I am so appreciative of the people who who are kind to my grandmother. As the sales associate shares her personal phone number with my grandmother in an offer to help her set up her phone, I am actually fighting back tears. I chew on a few Altoids at once in an effort to shock myself back into the present moment. 

Our next stop is back to the Bob Hope Village for a well earned siesta. I walk my grandmother back to her room and we agree to reconvene in 1.5 hours for a trip to Best Buy and then dinner. I am too tired to nap, so I spend my siesta reading and meditating.  

Later that night, after only one wrong turn, we arrive at Best Buy. Again, we are met with a helpful sales associate immediately. They have a packaged Jitterbug, but do not have a demo unit. I ask if the phone can run on wifi-only and she says yes (later, I will find this statement to be false). We resolve to buy a Jitterbug online and run it on wifi for a while, to test out text and a few apps before setting up cell service. The sales associate is also extremely accommodating, showing my grandmother options for training courses on cell phones and the Internet. She doesn’t go as far as providing her personal phone number, but she does give her card and seems genuinely concerned about my grandmother's ability to use the phone in my absence. For the second time today, I leave a consumer electronics department fighting back tears. 

By now, it’s almost 8pm and it’s time for dinner. My grandmother recommends a place called Bone Fish, which is right down the street. We grab a large booth in the bar and decide to order appetizers only. She orders more shrimp and I get the mussels. I also opt for a glass of Chardonnay and my grandmother has the same. We enjoy a long dinner, where she inevitably makes friends with our server. When it’s time to leave he insists on giving us desert on the house. It’s banana foster, which has been on my list of things to try for many years. We end up closing down the restaurant.

When we get back to the Bob Hope Village, it’s so late that the main lobby is locked. I have to stand outside for 10 minutes with my grandmother while security comes to let her back in. 

We agree to meet at 9am tomorrow for breakfast before my flight home.           

Pili nuts save the day

Friday, September 21st 2018

Los Angeles, CA and Shalimar, FL

It’s 2pm and I am standing outside of my office waiting on a Lyft to LAX. I’ve been at my new job for about 6 weeks and I already need to take time off to visit my grandmother for her 92nd birthday. In an effort to minimize time out of the office, I am flying out to Florida on Friday afternoon and back in on Sunday. This is going to whirlwind trip and I hope everything goes smoothly. 

By 4:30pm my flight to Dallas is boarding, as planned. I am armed with 2 liters of water, a bag of pili nuts, 2 Bulletproof collagen bars, Ready Player One and season one of Atypical. The airplane is enormous and I settle into my aisle seat and immediately turn on Ready Player One. The movie is surprisingly good and I am so into it that I don’t even notice we are still on the ground until it ends. Ah man, this does not fare well for my connecting flight. 

Eventually we take off. I order coffee from the the drink cart and proceed to watch most of Atypical before I hear an announcement from the captain. He says that we may have noticed that we have been circling Dallas for the last few hours (I had not) and that we will soon run out of gas (wait, what?). He says that we can not get into the Dallas airport due to weather and that we are going to go land at El Paso (ugh). 

An hour later, in El Paso, I am on my 3rd cup of airplane coffee and halfway through my bag of pili nuts. We can not get off the plane because the jetway is too small to connect to. I am in the way back of the plane and most passengers have a good attitude about the situation. About 2 hours later, we are back in the air in attempt number 2 to land in Dallas. 

At 2:15am I am finally deplaning in Dallas. My American app has deleted the boarding pass to my connecting flight, so I am pretty sure that I’m stuck here. As one of the last passengers off the plane, the line at the ticket counter is already very long. I wander over to the flight status board and see that my connecting flight has not left yet. Whoa, I can not believe that plane is still here. It’s scheduled to leave in 45 minutes.

I easily make it to my next gate and my flight into Pensacola goes as planned. I even get an empty seat next to me, I guess 3:30am is not a popular time to fly. When I arrive in Pensacola I beeline to the rental car booth. I grab one of the last cars from Alamo and end up getting upgraded to a small SUV. I ask the rental guy if my grandmother will be able to get into this kind of SUV and he dryly replies yes. Oh well, this is my only option. 

Around 4:30am I start my 1.5 hour drive to Shalimar. At one point I pull over for a snack, but end up only buying a diet Dr. Pepper. I am strangely not hungry. A bag a peli nuts and 2 liters of water goes farther than you would think. 

I pull into the Bob Hope Village at 6am. My grandmother has booked me a room in her her retirement community and the 24 hour guard is supposed to show me to the room and give me a key. There is no guard at the gate and it appears that parking lot is being prepared as part of a route for a 5K run. I find a phone number on the door of the guard booth and wait nearly 10 minutes for someone to come and get me. By 6:15am I am finally settled in my room. I have plans to meet my grandmother for breakfast at 7:30am, so I use the next 1 hour and 15 minutes to shower, nap and meditate. 

At 7:30am sharp I am knocking on her door for our birthday breakfast date.      

Pizza and macaroons

Tuesday, July 10th 2018

Bordeaux and Paris, France and Los Angeles

It’s 5am and I am getting up to catch my cab to the Bordeaux train station. My train leaves at 6:30am but I am scared about navigating the train station and arrive by 6am. I am able to find the monitors with the platform numbers and see that mine has not been announced. Around 6:15 the monitors malfunction and an announcement comes over the speaker, 100% in French. Uh oh. I follow a large group people who are reacting to the announcement. They lead me to train 8400 and I so relieved. I board and find my seat immediately. The ride back to the Montparnasse station is easy. 

Now that I am back in Paris, I have about 4 hours to make the one hour transfer to the airport. I am starving and carrying two very large bags. I try to get breakfast in the train station, but nothing looks good. I end up drinking two cups of coffee instead. 

I open up Uber to check the price to get to the airport and it’s over 100 Euros. Whoa, that’s well over double what I paid to get into town. Well, I have some time to kill, maybe I can figure out another way. I approach the self serve ticket kiosk to look for a train to the airport. Tickets are almost 70 Euros and the available times are very limited. This is strange.

I log back onto to wifi and do some research. There is an express bus for 10 Euros that leaves every 30 minutes. The bus stop should be right outside. I walk outside and immediately see the stops for city buses, but can not find the stop for the express airport bus. I head back to the other side of the station, to no avail. Oh well, at least I’m not in a rush. 

Eventually I find the stop about a block away from where I started. Just as I walk up, the bus pulls away. Damn. 30 minutes later, I have successfully boarded the next bus. 

Soon I arrive at the airport. Check in and security is very easy. I am early and excited to get settled in my terminal so that I can have an actual meal. When I arrive at my gate I am surprised to find no sit down restaurants on this side of security. I end buying a pizza, coffee and some macaroons. Yep, this is how I’m going out of France. 

Once I am done eating, I reach for my phone to charge up for the plane ride. Uh oh. It’s not there. No big deal, it must be in my bag. I dig around, but still can't find it. Well, it’s probably stuck somewhere. I sit on the ground on empty my entire backpack one item at a time. Still nothing. 

I remember using my phone on the bus, but I have not seen it since then. My pants do not have pockets. Did I leave it on the seat of the bus? Oh crap. I think I did. 

I spend the next 30 minutes buying a temp phone on Amazon and having it shipped to my house. I also file a report with the French department of public transportation. I’m pretty upset by this development but also relieved that I am about to leave and don't have to navigate anywhere else. 

Eventually, I board the plane. The flight back is a healthy mix of wine, naps and TV. When I land in LA it’s easy to get a cab back to my car at the office. 

Well, Bordeaux took my heart and Paris took my phone. As soon as I enter my house, I open my most expensive bottle of wine, pour a glass and start attempting to recover my photos on iCloud. 

The grapes must suffer

Monday, July 9th 2018

Bordeaux, France 

It’s 9am CES and my alarm is going off. This is my last full day in France and I intend to take full advantage. I quickly get ready and head outside to find the perfect cafe for breakfast. My plan is to spend the morning on the left bank of the Garonne. This half town has the oldest buildings, smallest streets and feels decidedly less hipster than the scene across the river.

I start off by randomly taking turns inward from the river until I find a small square lined with sidewalk cafes. I pick the one with the most people and grab a small table. I order a cafe creme and scone. Admittedly my scone knowledge is limited to Starbucks and Virgin Atlantic, so I am pleasantly surprised to learn this pastry more resembles a dense KFC biscuit than a dried out muffin. I dowse my scone in clotted cream and shamelessly stare into the square as little bits of my scone break off onto my shirt and table. I am having such a nice time that I order another cafe creme. 

After breakfast, I have a few points on interest to see. First on my list is the main tourism office, this is where I’ll meet for my afternoon wine tour. I am notoriously terrible at navigation, so I spend about 20 minutes wandering around the main square before I reach full confidence that I have located the correct address. 

Now, onto the fun stuff. 

I spend the rest of the morning locating and photographing the main cathedral, a large fountain, the old opera house and few important statues. As a bonus, I run into the Grand Hommes shopping center, which is a strangely modern building set against a sea of limestone from the early 1800s, many of which are part of an UNESCO world heritage site. I wander inside to find a regular combination of clothing, cosmetics, shoes and cafes. I am not overly enthused to be in a mall, but am grateful for a break in the AC. 

Around 1pm I go back to my hotel to clean up and change for my wine tour. I am back at the tourism office almost 30 minutes early. I find a large cafe next door and order a cup of espresso while I wait. After much internal debate, I booked an English-speaking tour to Saint Emilion, which is the older wine region on the right bank, with smaller vineyards and richer history. As a result, I will not be seeing Medoc, which is the newer, more commercial region on the left bank, with the grand Chateaus. 

At 1:55pm our tour is already gathered. Our tour group is small, consisting of me and couples from Texas, Canada and Norway. Our tour guide is named Luigi and I think that he is not French. He gives a quick introduction of himself and asks where everyone is from. He asks me directly if I enjoy California wine and I lie by saying that I enjoy all wine. 

When we gather in front of the minibus to the winery, Luigi insists that I sit up front, forcing the older Norwegian couple to the back. I feel bad, but after 1.5 days of being truly solo, I really want to chat with someone. 

During the 45 minute drive to St Emilion I learn a lot. Bordeaux was revitalized about 20 years ago, when the French government finally realized that people enjoy visiting wine country. The city is almost entirely built from limestone which starts to discolor after 20-25 years. It’s taken almost 20 years to clean all of the buildings, so now it’s basically time to start cleaning again. It was founded as a port town and the largest industry is aerospace. Bordeaux is a tech hub and many engineers live here and work for companies headquartered in Paris. They recently installed a high speed train that goes directly to Paris in only 2 hours and 4 minutes, which is 310 miles. 

As we near our destination, Luigi gives a brief explanation of Bordeaux wines over the speaker in the bus. Bordeauxs are always blends. In Saint-Emilion the blends tend to be Merlot dominant and in Medoc they are Cabernet dominant. The Medoc region is much newer and was actually created by the Dutch, who drained the swamps to create more space for vineyards. The Saint-Emilion region dates back to the 1200s, when a princess from Bordeaux married the King of England. As a result, the area belonged to England for a brief period of time, when it was decreed to be used for the sole purpose of growing and making wine. For most of recent history the Medoc region has reigned as superior until another kind of royalty rediscovered Saint-Emilion. This time it was American royalty, in the 1960s the Kennedys fell in love with Saint-Emilion and with one photograph, it was brought it back in vogue.    

Our first stop is the town of Saint-Emilion. It’s located amongst vineyards that are mostly flat, however, the town is terraced. I think this is not how California would do it, but I keep that thought to myself. We complete a brief walking tour of the town. Luigi points out a pricing grid, which is posted on one of the main streets. It lists the classifications for all of the vineyards of this region by decade, as well as, as the price per classification. The labels for Saint-Emilion Bordeauxs are fascinating and explain everything you need to know to pick a wine without ever tasting it. This is genius. 

We duck into a small wine shop, where the friendly owner pours our first tasting. He pours 4 tastes, starting off with a wine that is 100% Merlot. I find it offensive, especially in this extreme summer heat. The next 3 pours are better, but I am not blown away. At the end of the tasting I buy the second to last bottle and ask for a recommendation for a basic table wine that tastes less like Merlot. He gives me a bottle for 8 Euros and I am sure that I will love it.  

On the way to the vineyard Luigi brings up the story of the great wine blight of the mid-nineteenth century. He tells the whole bus how a fungus from California nearly killed all of the grapes in France. The eventual solution was to graft roots from California vines onto the French wines to make them resilient to the fungus. The story ends by Luigi announcing that California caused the problem but also brought the solution. He smiles happily at me as to say that European wine will always prevail.   

As we enter Chateau Ratouin we are immediately greeted by one of their employees. She explains a little bit about their biodynamic practices and then dives into the very specific soil of Pomerol, which is a sub-region of Saint-Emilion. The soil is mostly clay and parts of it are actually blue. This occurs because the soil is filled with iron. Once it makes contact with oxygen it turns red (basically, we’ll just have to trust that it was once blue). She speaks about the thickness of the soil, the heat from the sun and the age of the vines (typically between 40 and 70 years). She says that the grapes must suffer to develop thicker skins and produce more flavor. I immediately picture the lush, breezy, terraced vineyards of the California Central Coast and deduct those grapes must be happy. I decide that happy grapes taste good too.

Soon we head inside to discuss the fermentation process. I am surprised to see large clay cylinders mixed in with the more traditional stainless steel. Our guide explains they have been fermenting and aging certain wines in clay to get a cleaner, smoother taste. She says there has been a recent move away from aging wine in oak due to the fact that a major wine critic, who had a strong affinity for oak, recently passed. I am fascinated and hanging on every word.

Eventually, we make our way into the tasting room, where she pours our tasting. Again, the wines start out a little tart and dry for me, but the last few pours are very, very good. The wine here is much more expensive, but I shell out for a mid range bottle.      

On the way back I continue to chat with Luigi. I learn that the roses at the end of each row of grapes are used as an early detection system for disease. I also learn that well aged Merlot would pair best with smoked pork shoulder. 

We arrive back in town around 6pm. It’s still a little early for dinner, so I find a bar to enjoy happy hour. I sit outside and drink a glass of Rosé. The wifi in Bordeaux is very reliable, so I spend my time catching Pokemon and watching people. I want to order a small cheese plate, but as I look around, I see that my only option is a very large cheese plate. I nibble on some peanuts as I order a second glass. 

Eventually the air begins to cool and it’s time for dinner. Tonight I opt for dinner on the river. There are several strips of restaurants and I find one called Formule, which appears to sell only mussels and fries. I’m in. 

I’m seated at an awesome table in the corner with a great view of the river and the rest of the restaurant. The menu has 30 different variations of mussels. I am immediately stressed but ultimately end up ordering the Rockfort mussels with creme and my server assures me that I made a good choice. I am overjoyed by her approval. I also order white wine, which automatically comes in a 375 ml bottle nestled in a little bucket of ice. This is so cool. 

My meal is totally awesome and ranks a very close second to the duck on my first night in Paris. As the sun starts to set, I order a plate of profiteroles and a cup of coffee. It’s great and I am totally stuffed. 

By the time I am done with dinner it’s almost 10pm. I have a very early train back to Paris so I begrudgingly walk back to my hotel. The front desk is extremely helpful in ordering me a cab for 5:30am and I am off to pack and sleep. 

         

Skate parks

Sunday, July 8th 2018

Bordeaux, France 

It’s about 9:30am CES and I am getting ready for my first day in Bordeaux. I am solo for the next 2 days and am pretty excited to experience a new part of France. I take a few minutes to read through a tourism magazine in my room and look up a few possible activities online. 

Stop #1 is the Jardin Public for brunch. I map out my destination using Maps.me and right out of the gate I make 2 wrong turns. Eventually I get myself pointed in the right direction and arrive at a quaint but extremely ornate  garden. There’s a small pond, playground and a large natural history museum with a restaurant called L’Orangerie in front. I approach the restaurant and wait a while to be seated. No one comes and eventually I find a seat for myself on the large patio. After only a few minutes, a server approaches me and I order coffee and peruse the menu, which is mostly open faced sandwiches. I pick one with cheese and mushrooms and wait patiently while I continue to read through tourism magazine from my hotel room. 

The sun is bright and the temperature continues to rise as my hot sandwich and second cup of coffee arrive. After a leisurely brunch I take a stroll around the garden. The entire lawn is littered with couples and families having picnics and drinking wine. I am feeling very jealous of this lifestyle. On the way out of the garden I see a stray cat and take at least 10 photos. 

Next stop is La Cite du Vin, which is a museum dedicated to wine. I take a few more wrong turns before I end up on the pedestrian walkway that runs next to the Garonne River. Now that I am out of the narrow streets of town, the sun is absolutely punishing. I have to stop and lather myself with sunscreen. I am already a puddle of sweat and sunscreen and it’s not even noon yet. 

The walkway is lined with vendors on the side closest to the water and permanent shops on the other side. The construction is obviously very new and, while I am always charmed by a good outdoor space, I can’t help but think this feels like San Diego with humidity. About halfway to the museum I pass by a small skate park.  

Eventually the river bends and I am able to see my destination. La Cite du Vin was just opened in 2016 and cost nearly 80M Euros to build. It was a major project funded by many different levels of government to revitalize Bordeaux as tourist destination. The architecture of the building is unique and is meant to resemble wine being poured into a glass. It’s clearly an abstract rendition. 

When I enter to main lobby I am blasted with air conditioning. I quickly buy my ticket and head into the nearest restroom. I take a few minutes to fill up my water bottle, wash my face and apply new deodorant. I’m feeling slightly homeless, but mostly relieved to be out of the mid-afternoon sun. 

The entire exhibit is divided into 18 stops, starting with wine regions, then winemaking, then wine history, then wine-related art and ending with a group of exhibits that are specific to Bordeaux. They do a really nice job of designing each section to be a different experience; some are passive, like watching movie on a large screen and some are highly interactive like actually smelling the different kinds of notes of various wines. The entire building is dimly lit and the indoor temperature is just perfect. The experience ends with a wine tasting on the top floor. The space is completely round with a 360 degree view of Bordeaux. The fixtures are solid white and bartenders are impatient. It feels like a scene out of Gattaca. I kind of love it here. 

Now that it’s getting to be mid-afternoon, I decide to take a walk across the river to visit a place called the Darwin Ecosystem, which I found in my hotel magazine. It’s described as a crucible of innovation and free expression. I really have no idea what to expect. 

When I arrive I find a group of buildings including a grocery store and a few bars and cafeteria style restaurants. There is lots of outdoor space, which is covered by what looks like totally haphazard awnings, but are actually providing nearly 100% shade in conjunction with the existing structures. I decide to do a lap before settling in. I find all sorts of awesome graffiti and take lots of pictures. I walk through the grocery store and cafeteria. I am looking for a small snack, but can’t seem to find anything. I wander to the back of the space and find a hidden indoor skate park. Beyond the skate park there is cluster of modular concrete structures that look like tiny homes. They are covered in graffiti and look like a great place for small hipsters. 

Eventually I find a place to sit and buy a glass of Rosé from one of the wine carts. I intermittently people watch and continue to flip through my Bordeaux magazine. At one point a young British couple ask if they can share my picnic table in French. I am super flattered they used French and only nod in response. The air is cooling off and the space is bustling. I order one more glass of wine. 

Around 7pm I am famished and need to get back to my side of town. I feel dehydrated and tired, so I book an Uber and am back at my hotel in minutes. I spend a few minutes cleaning up for dinner and then go on a hunt for a restaurant. As I walk down the narrow streets I notice that most restaurants serve a prefix for dinner and have their menus and prices posted out front. This is very convenient and much less expensive than Paris. Eventually I decide on a place called Le Chaudron based on mid-ranged price and the opportunity to order crispy snails. The host sits me next to the window and brings me a large bowl of bread. I order a glass of Bordeaux and choose the crispy snails for an appetizer and the Saint-Pierre for the main course. I have no idea what to expect and am surprised when Saint-Pierre turns out to be fish. The food is just okay and the inside of the restaurant is a little too hot for my taste. For dessert I order creme brulee and an espresso. 

After dinner, I walk back down to the river to see the multicolored lights installation at sunset. The river bank is crowded and I find a nice spot to sit. I flip through the day’s photos as I wait for the lights to come on. I notice a warning sign and use my Google app to translate. It says to please not use glass containers for drinking wine near the river and thank you for cooperating. I am loving the formality of the culture here. 

Eventually the lights come on and I spend some time walking through the installation. I find this space very charming but I am completely surrounded by teenagers and decide to head back in for the night.   

Day 1 of Bordeaux is complete and I am already in love with this place.