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. 

   

We should just douse everything in butter and cheese.

Saturday, July 7th 2018

Paris and Bordeaux, France 

It’s about 9am CES. We are waking up for our last day in Paris. We quickly get ready for the day and pack up our bags to leave behind the front desk. We make our final stop at the neighborhood cafe. We order our last cafe creme and enjoy the view of the little streets in St. Germain. 

Our first stop is the Musee Rodin. Sarah assures me that the garden is the best part and that we can buy garden-only tickets. I am fully onboard with this plan as I am still a little shell-shocked from the Louvre. As we enter the garden we are confronted with the Thinker. My initial reaction is that it must be a reproduction. I feel kind of stupid for not knowing and creep up to the information panel. This appears to be the actual Thinker. My mind is blown. Later I will learn the Thinker has been cast in multiple versions and is found all over the world, but the bronze cast in the Rodin garden was the first one made in 1902. 

The garden is peaceful, quiet and filled with Rodin’s statues and explanations of their mostly dark origins. The crowning work of the garden is the Gates of Hell, located at the end of a serene footpath. I spend a fair amount of time taking in the work. I am really enjoying the nefarious nature of Rodin’s work set against the beauty of the French garden. 

After a quick stop at the gift shop, we head over to the Grand Palais to look for a cafe for lunch. We end up spending nearly 30 minutes looking for a cafe, we walk through a nice park and some residential areas on the right bank. Eventually we find a small group of cafes and choose the one with the most people. Service is slow but the chairs are comfortable, so we are happy. We order some mussels for an appetizer and each get a large salad. The mussels arrive in the same kind of serving dish as escargot. I am intrigued and stick my little fork into one of the compartments. I pull out a little mussel that has been doused in butter and cheese. This is a great idea! We rave about the mussels until our salads arrive. I secretly wish that mine had a little more ham on it, but, overall, we are both happy with our meals. 

After lunch we walk to the Grand Palais to investigate a sign for an exhibition on robots. Apparently the exhibit is sold out and we can only wait in a line for stand by tickets. In the land Monet-Renoir-Manet-Matisse, we both decide that we can do without the robots. We only have about an hour to kill before it’s time for Sarah to head to the airport. We wander into the Petit Palais across the street. It’s cool inside and the small art exhibit is free. We pursue each gallery and then start a slow, ambling walk back to our hotel. At one point, we stop by the street vendors on the river so that I can buy some prints to take home. I settle for 2 vintage covers from French Vogue. The booth vendor acts as though she doesn’t even want me to buy the prints. This is truly the lowest pressure sales situation I've ever experienced.

Once we grab our bags, Sarah and I sit outside our hotel for a few minutes to use the wifi. She eventually gathers directions to her bus stop and we say our goodbyes. Sarah was a great travel buddy for Paris and I am sure that I saw way more than I ever would on my own accord. 

The next step for me is to get to Gare Montparnasse, the main train station. I have a few hours to kill but I am worried about my train being canceled (I have received multiple warnings about strikes) and making my way to the correct terminal and platform. I decide to go early and order an Uber on my phone. My driver is nice and we arrive at the station within 10 minutes. 

I have a paper print out of my ticket and only need to confirm the location for my train. I quickly find the hall and platform on the board and realize that I still have an hour and half before departure. I decide to grab an early dinner. There are not many options here and the McDonalds looks very accessible. I order burger with blue cheese and set up shop in a very comfortable booth with a great view. I kill a good amount time playing Pokemon Go and looking out of the window. About 30 minutes prior to departure I find my platform, sit close by and wait patiently. When my platform opens I am the first one on the train. I paid a few extra dollars for business class and it does not disappoint. The train looks like it’s brand new and no one sits next to me. The entire trip is about 2 hours and 15 minutes. I welcome the quiet and solitude. 

When I arrive in Bordeaux I am armed with both my hotel name and address in writing. I do not want a repeat of my last experience in Paris. There is cab waiting outside and I show the driver my information. He is friendly but does not speak any English at all. On the drive into town we pass by a river front which is covered in different colored lights. It looks really pretty and the driver gives me an explanation, which I do not understand. Eventually we hit a street that has been blocked off. The driver uses a small call box and speaks into it quickly. The road blocks descend into the ground and he drives us into a street filled with pedestrians. He pulls up directly to the front door of the Hotel de la Presse. He hands me my bags and points at the front door. I signal that I understand and smiles broadly and drives off into the night. So far, I can only discern that Bordeaux is the exact opposite of Paris. 

The woman at the check in desk speaks to me in perfect English. She apologizes that the elevator is not working, but I wasn’t expecting an elevator anyways. As I enter my room on the 3rd floor my jaw almost hits the floor. This is easily twice the size of our room in Paris and the ceiling must be 20 feet high. 

It’s nearing 10pm and I feel gross. I take an incredibly long shower and eat some snacks from my bag. I’m not particularly tired, but I sit quietly and read until I fall asleep. Tomorrow is day 1 of my solo journey in Bordeaux! 

Art-people overload

Friday, July 6th 2018

Paris, France 

It’s 10am CES and we are slowly getting ready for another full day of Paris. Having knocked out 70% of our to-do list on Day 1, we are looking forward to a leisurely day of wandering the city. We start off at our neighborhood cafe. The sidewalk tables are empty and we take up two little tables by sitting on the same side. Almost immediately our server comes out and tells not to do that. So many rules here. 

Ever since we started planning this trip, we’ve been debating whether or not to go to the Louvre. Around the middle of our second cup, we decide to go. We agree to only spend a few hours and to skip the artifacts and really old art. 

It takes about 30 minutes to get into Louvre. It is very crowded and already a vastly different experience than the Musee d’Orsay. We grab a guide and determine that we should spend our time on the top 2 floors, where the most recent work is located. Almost immediately we run into the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Sarah has to explain to me that it’s from 200 BC and I have to admit that I am pretty impressed. Some people are taking photos, but most are just glancing nonchalantly on their way past. The stage is pretty much set for the rest of the morning. 

We pass by piece after piece of incredibly important paintings and sculptures with little to no fanfare. It’s weird that so many relics are so close together; I feel a great sense of inadequacy on behalf of the US. 

At one point we accidentally wander into Napoleon's apartment. Honestly, I did not know this was here and I am pretty excited about it. We spend almost 30 minutes walking around various rooms covered in red velvet and gold. It’s so decadent and fun in here. 

Eventually we decide to make our way back to the main entrance. It takes almost 20 minutes to get out of the current wing. I swear that we are going in one direction, but we keep circling back to the same spot. This place is too much. 

Around 3pm we are done with Louvre and have successfully navigated out of a completely different door than where we entered. It’s okay though, we’re back outside and I am secretly relieved. We immediately find a cafe to sit and relax. When the server comes I blurt out an order for a Sauvignon Blanc. I was not planning on day drinking during this trip, but the art-people overload has driven me here. Sarah agrees and orders a Cotes du Rhone. Once again we are faced with a menu dominated by sandwiches. We agree to get a few appetizers instead, ultimately resulting in a cheese plate and lox. Now, this is what I envisioned for a cheese plate in France. Everything is excellent and we are appropriately tipsy for 4pm. 

We notice the world cup playing in the background. Today is the quarter-final and France is playing Uruguay. We both hope that France wins. 

After our very late lunch, we we decide to make one more art-related stop at the Musee de l’Orangerie, which I call the museum of Orange Lingerie in my head. On the way there, Sarah suggests that we duck into what looks like a small courtyard and are greeted by a large square of black and white striped columns of all different heights. This is an outdoor installation at the Palais de Tokyo and there is a couple taking wedding photos at the far end. We each take at least 30 pictures of the different columns and each other. I'm still a little wine buzzed and having an awesome time. 

Soon we arrive at Orange Lingerie and I am excited to see what happens next. As we enter there is a small gift shop and some sketches of water lilies. The first room is large, white, round and covered in nearly 365 degrees of Monet’s water lilies. Wow, this is pretty cool. There are a lot of visitors, but the room is almost completely silent and everyone is taking turns approaching the painting for pictures. 

After a while we wonder into the next room, which has the same set up. Sometimes I think that seeing art in person has only marginal value over seeing it in a book, but this work is completely different in person. I am really happy that we came here. 

As we are about to leave, we realize there are a few more galleries downstairs. We take about 30 minutes to walk through several room featuring Matisse, Picasso, and Renoir. There is so much to see here that I feel dumbfounded.     

Now that early evening is settling in, we take a walk over to the Champs Elysees. It’s very crowded and the game is playing in every cafe. This part of town looks very different than our neighborhood. I am happy that we are seeing it, but deep down inside I think it looks a little bit like Downtown Disney. We walk to the end of the avenue and get our obligatory photos of the Arc de Triomphe. Just as we snapping our 3rd round of selfies, the street burst into yelling and the sound of many car horns. The French police have lined the street in such volume that they are almost standing shoulder to shoulder. It looks like France won the game.     

As time progresses the fervor only grows. Herds of drunk guys march around yelling the national anthem; cars drive up and down the avenue relentlessly bearing down on their horns. There are small bursts of blue confetti. 

We walk back to a quieter neighborhood and are not completely sure what to do next. We need to kill two hours or so before dinner and don’t really have anything else on our list. We duck into a small sidewalk cafe / bar to sit and people watch. I have a few rounds of Rosé and Sarah has some beer. We tear through the small plate of peanuts on our table and the server has to refill it three times. Around 7pm we walk back to our hotel to change for dinner. 

For dinner we walk to Le Relais de l’Entrecote. Recommended by Sarah’s parents, this place serves only steak and fries and sounds fantastic. When we arrive there is only a small line. We happily line up and I unconsciously open up my Pokemon Go app. I am able to get onto the city wifi and immediately a Mr. Mime appears. I squeal in joy and immediately shove my phone in Sarah’s face to show her. Mr. Mime is a special Pokemon that can only be caught in Europe. It takes a few attempts but I eventually add Mr. Mime to my Pokedex. This moment just made my day. 

After only a few more minutes we are seated inside. We get a bottle house wine and the server asks how we would like our steak. I say medium-rare and she says that I’ll have it rare. For the next hour we are served endless little pieces of steak, french fries and a green sauce that tastes like nothing I have ever had. I love this place so much. 

After dinner we walk back to the Seine. We sit next to the water and watch groups of teenagers, locals and tourists enjoy the long summer evening. I am starting to understand why people love Paris and hate the Louvre.     

Le Chet Blanc

Thursday, July 5th 2018

Paris, France 

Around 10am CES we are finally getting out of bed for our first full day in France. I am slightly groggy, but my melatonin is really helping. We start our day by picking a random sidewalk cafe. The menu is all pastries, so we opt for something called cafe creme, which is basically coffee with steamed milk. We are in the Saint-Germain-Des-Pres neighborhood. The streets are narrow and several locals pedal by on their bicycles carrying things like flowers and bread. This is scene straight out of a movie. We are so charmed that we order another round of coffees. 

Around 12noon we finally get our day started at the Musee d’Orsay. Walking through the entryway is a truly stunning experience. The museum is housed in an old, gutted train station. Most of the space is open and flooded with natural light. The main hall is predominantly old, marble statues. There is lots of open space and the opulence of the statues plays well with the utilitarian frame and concrete floors of the old train station. 

The museum is 2 stories and has galleries running along either side of the main hall on both floors. There is also a huge metal clock, near the front, which used to be part of the original structure. We spend a little over 2 hours browsing most of the rooms. We are so overwhelmed with important art that we can’t fully react to most of it. This is what wine aficionados must feel in Napa. 

I notice there is an overrepresentation of dogs in French art. I mention this to Sarah and she says that dogs are important. I think that cats are important too, but I keep that thought to myself. Just as we are about leave, Sarah waves me over and points at a painting of a cat. Le Chet Blanc. Wow, that cat looks just like Cal. He even has flat ears. I explain to Sarah this is incredible because Scottish Folds were not recognized as breed until 1961 and even then, they were mostly in Scotland. Well, this made my day. On the way out, I buy a refrigerator magnet to commemorate the moment.   

It’s 3pm now and we are officially hungry. Sarah has researched a few restaurants and suggests one in Hemingway's old neighborhood. I agree and we are quickly seated. The menu is mostly sandwiches, but I find a quiche and an appetizer that seems to be mostly cheese. Sarah orders the lox and almost 30 minutes later, we’re served lunch. I’m pretty happy with my meal. It’s getting to the end of lunch service, but we both insist on coffee afterwards. Our server begrudgingly obliges. 

Next we walk over to the Luxembourg Gardens, which is spectacular. There is lots of open space, combined with statues, fountains and perfectly manicured plants. I notice some metal chairs sitting next to the fountains and statues. These chairs are not attached to the ground and in LA they would be stolen immediately. The French are clearly more responsible. I also notice the silence. We can actually hear the wind rustling the small plants near the main fountain.  

After contemplating silence and chairs for about half an hour, we walk over to Notre Dame. The building is enormous and covered in detail. We think about going inside, but the line spans the entire courtyard. Sarah mentions the Sainte-Chapelle, where we are met with a much smaller line into a much smaller church. This works. The Sainte-Chapelle is little and totally over the top. The first floor is a mix of small stained glass windows, informational panels, some statues, a shrine and a little gift shop. The second floor is almost completely stained glass with a high vaulted ceiling. The room is crowded, but almost completely silent. This place is so cool. 

It’s nearing 7pm and it's time for us to head back to the hotel to change for dinner. We are meeting one of Sarah’s friends by the river for a pre-dinner drink. Jacqueline texts Sarah a place to meet, which ends up being one of the main floating bars on our side of the Seine. I am pretty excited, since I’ve been wanting to drink wine on a boat ever since we got here. Sarah and I arrive early and order a round while we wait. We aggressively try to get a table on the front patio. After about 10 minutes, we are successful. When Jacqueline arrives, she immediately buys us another round. I like her already!

After a drink at the bar we walk around the river for a little bit and eventually end up buying one more round from a walk up window. It’s getting close to dinner time and we all discuss what we want. Jacqueline is eating vegetarian so our original plan of steak and fries is not going to work. Jacqueline explains about a new restaurant on the right bank that is attached to a gallery. It sounds very fancy and comes highly recommended from her husband, who is a sommelier. We are in. 

We don't have a reservation, but end up being seated immediately. We start out with wine, cheese and clams. For the main dish, I am completely overwhelmed and end up ordering a chicken burger. It tastes good, but I wish I would have been more creative. For dessert we compromise and end up with berries with cream and flourless chocolate cake. It’s good, but a little too much. After dinner, Sarah and I slowly amble back to our side of the river. We opt for nightcap on the river. We enjoy great conversation and a view of the Ponte Alexendre III (which is a bridge so ornate that I can’t decide if it funny or beautiful). 

Around midnight we wander back into our hotel. Again, we agree to late start for tomorrow.     

The city of lights and sunlight

Wednesday, July 4th 2018

Paris, France

I am slowly waking up on the airplane. The cabin lights are back on and the smell of coffee fills the cabin. Current time is unknown. 

My coffee cup is teeny tiny and I shamelessly ask for multiple refills. After breakfast I spend a few minutes brushing my teeth, moisturizing and getting my stuff back together. I find one of socks across the aisle, 2 rows back. Oops. 

Eventually we land and I am one of the first people off the plane. I immediately find an ATM to grab some Euros for my cab into town. Eventually I hit the line for immigration and it is very long. After about 15 minutes of not moving, one of the airport personnel waves me into a new line that is moving much faster. She pulls me to the front and then the man in the passport window calls me forward. He gives me a stamp and waves me through. I’m not sure what just happened, but I am pretty happy about it. 

By the time I make it to baggage claim, my bag is just coming down the carousel. I walk outside and get a cab immediately. I show the cabbie the name for my hotel and he says that he doesn’t know it. I’m a little thrown off, but I know that I have the address somewhere and just tell him to head towards the Musee d’Orsay. Eventually I find the address and show it to him. We sit in traffic for at least an hour. When we get to the center of town my driver is mad and aggressive. Eventually he stops on one of the main roads and says that he can not get closer to the hotel and that I need to walk. He does a terrible job of giving me directions and then drives off. 

I try to connect to wifi on my phone to get directions, but I have no luck. I see the Musee d’Orsay a block up and head in that direction. Eventually I am able to get onto their wifi and download walking directions to our hotel, which is a few blocks away. I’m feeling angry at that cab driver and am sure that feeling is mutual. After 15 minutes of dragging my bag over cobblestone, I arrive at the hotel. I know that Sarah has already checked in so I ask the front desk for a key. Instead she calls Sarah down into the lobby to meet me. Oh well, I’m here!

Sarah shows me our incredibly small hotel room and waits patiently while I put on makeup, brush my hair and change shoes. It’s about 6pm and we decide to walk up to the river and see the Eiffel tower before a late dinner. Our walk up the Seine is very nice. The weather is astoundingly beautiful and the bright orange sunlight is casting long shadows of the overly ornate bridges onto the pedestrian path. There are locals and tourists everywhere. Vendors are selling bottles of wine out of rolly carts and the mood is upbeat. 

Eventually we hit the Eiffel tower. There is some construction, so it takes us a few minutes to find the actual entrance. We buy tickets to go to the top and then wait in line for what seems like forever. Finally, when we arrive at the top, the view is amazing. The sun is just setting and the whole town looks pink and white. The City of Lights has lived up to its name and the sun hasn’t even set yet. They are selling glasses of champagne at the very top and I opt buy some from me and Sarah. After all, what’s one more line at this point? 

After 2 glasses of champagne and about 100 pictures, we head back down to find some dinner. We are both famished and it’s nearly 10pm. We decide to not be picky about dinner and grab a table at the first cafe that we find. We sit outside, with a view of the Eiffel tower and its periodically sparkling lights. We start with a carafe of Bordeaux and a cheese plate. I feel that the cheese is a little larger than I expected, but everything tastes fine. I order the duck, which proves to the be the best duck I’ve ever eaten. Sarah orders a steak and is lukewarm about it. After dinner we drink more wine and are happily buzzed as we walk back down the river in the crisp evening air.  

We end up in bed by 1am and agree to a late start tomorrow. 

Seat 1A

Tuesday, July 3rd 2018

Los Angeles, CA and Paris, France

It’s around 4pm PST and I am packing up from work to leave for my summer vacation in France. I am very excited and have plenty of time to spare so I opt for an Uber Pool from downtown to the airport. When my driver picks me up I am the only one in the car. We may need to pick someone else up, but I have so much time that I almost don’t care. Just as we are about to get onto the highway I am notified that we will be adding a passenger. As we progress to the next pick up point, traffic increases tenfold. To make matters worse, my driver seems to constantly be in the wrong lane. A full hour later we are finally leaving downtown and on our way to the airport. This is the last time I ever take a rideshare to the airport. 

When we arrive at LAX I still have 2 hours before my flight leaves. I booked my ticket almost 6 months ago and opted for the economy premium ticket. Since then I received a notification that our aircraft has been changed and my new seat number will be 1A. I am cautiously optimistic about this development.

I use the premium check in lane and don’t have to wait at all. The guy that checks my bag looks at me with great excitement and says “yeah, you’re going to France!”. I smile; after all, he’s right. 

I still have about an hour and a half to kill so I go check out the One World Lounge. I have not been in an airport lounge since I was a little kid, so I’m not completely sure what to expect. 

Holy crap, this place is beautiful. I start out with a full lap. The lighting is low, the seats are spread out appropriately, there are 2 full bars, a buffet, a dessert bar, self serve coffee, soda and wine. Whoa. Self serve, complimentary wine. There is not even a tip jar. This place is so classy. 

I’m not very enthused by the food so I grab a small plate of nuts and pour myself a glass of Chardonnay. I settle into a large chair and can’t stop smiling. I spend my time listening to music and catching the odd Pokemon on Pokemon Go. I have a book and a few movies, but I am more interested in taking in the moment. 

Eventually I have to leave the lounge to board the plane. I grab 2 liters of water from a small newsstand. Boarding is delayed for about an hour, but I’m not stressed. In fact, I’m a little drunk and a lot happy. 

When we finally board, I am shown to seat 1A. I am so happy with this seat that I want to jump out of my skin. Instead, I say thank you and agree to glass of champagne. 

This is seat is actual first class. There is enough space on the floor in front of my seat for me to lay down on the floor completely. I restrain myself and focus on people watching instead. Most of first class is filled with a group that is clearly traveling together. When the women in seat 1B arrives she looks across the aisle at her husband and sighs in an overly exasperated way. He responds, “we don’t have to sit next to each other”. I stare ahead, holding in laughter. 

My neighbor in 1B is vegan and keep telling the flight attendant about her requirements. Meanwhile, I am basically drunk and tearing apart strips of beef jerky using my teeth and bare hands. This meat is very tough and I am thinking it’s a good thing there is a lot of space up here. 

The plane ride goes smoothly. I finished up the Netflix series, Love and play a few rounds of Plants versus Zombies on my iPad. Eventually I drift off to sleep. 

Chairs made of marble

Saturday, December 9th 2017

Habana, Cuba and Los Angeles, CA

It’s 9am and sheets of rain are pounding on the roof and window. It’s my last day in Cuba. Due to American Airlines consolidating flights, Laura and Andrew departed 10 hours ahead of schedule. I silently curse the airline industry and praise Alaska Airlines for sticking to their schedule in the midst of declining travel to Cuba. My plane will leave, as planned, at 6pm. 

My room is cool and it smells like rain. I opt to stay in bed for another hour. At 10am the rain is still pouring down. 

I slowly start organizing my bag. I decide to leave behind a few items for our host, including my blue Nike hat. I take a quick shower. The water is cold and I wonder if it’s actually rain. While I am washing my face Yasmina surprises me by knocking on the bathroom door. She asks if I want coffee, but I decline. 

Around 11am I lug my bags down the stairs and check in with Yasmina. She agrees to have a driver pick me up at 3pm and offers me her umbrella for the day. She is very nice, but I decline the umbrella. 

My plan was to take a cab to Fusterlandia, an outdoor art installation and then to Cementerio de Colin. When I step outside the streets are totally empty and all of the gutters are flooding. Change of plans. 

I jog between overhangs to Plaza Catedral and pick the fanciest restaurant I can find. I am the only one there, so I take the best table. The restaurant is beautiful. The ceilings are high and everything is made of marble, even parts of the chair. An extremely formal waiter approaches to take my order. I decide to order a beer and two appetizers. I know it’s unconventional but I can not eat anymore pork and rice. I order seafood stew and a side of mushrooms. The waiter looks confused, but I stand my ground. 

I use our remaining wifi minutes to check in with a few people. At one point I try to log into my work email a few times, but my access is denied (later I’ll find out that I triggered a security event, which interrupted Saturday plans for at least 2 IT workers). 

My food takes a while, so I end up ordering another beer. The waiter tells me that the beer is strong and I tell him that it’s okay, I am strong too. For a guy with one customer, he’s pretty judgmental. 

Eventually my food arrives. It turns out that my side of mushrooms is actually a creamy soup. Now I have two very large bowls of soup in front of me. Luckily, I am drunk enough to not care. I take my time working through my food. I eat every bite and feel strongly this is the best meal of the trip. 

After lunch I still have an hour and half to kill. The rain continues. 

I dash from overhang to overhang around the square and land at the Museo Nacional de Historia Natural. I pay 1 CUC to enter and am immediately charmed. The bottom half is mix of information panels explaining how the earth was made and representing each of the main different geological periods. The top half is full of random taxidermy and nearly one fourth of the space is dedicated to the cockroaches of Cuba. All of the information cards are in Spanish, so I spend some time attempting to read them. I amuse myself by making up translations for some of the words I don’t know. 

After the museum, I have time for quick cup of coffee. I duck into a charming, little cafeteria and order a cup of black coffee. A Canadian couple sits a table near me and I can hear them trying to figure out their agenda for the next few days. 

As soon I arrive back at Yasmina's, my driver arrives 10 minutes early. He leads me to his awesome, vintage Ford; the engine is so loud that we can not talk. I am relieved to sit silently. At one point he yells over the engine that I will be leaving from Terminal 2 and I yell back that it’s Terminal 3. He feels strongly that it’s Terminal 2, but eventually agrees to take me to 3. 

I arrive so early that the check in booth is not even open yet. After waiting for 30 minutes, I get through check in and security and have plenty of time at the gate. I order a few mini sandwiches and another beer. I spend my time reading and making laps through the duty free shop. 

My plane boards on time and the trip back to LAX is smooth. 

When I approach the customs officer I am feeling nervous. I was grandfathered into the People to People general travel license, but it no longer exists as of last month. I am legal, but I really do not want to explain myself. The officer views my passport and says “You’re coming from Mexico”. I think this is a trick and immediately correct him. “No, Cuba”. He lets out a small groan. After a long pause, he replies “okay, have a nice day”. This is not the first time that my compulsive honesty has annoyed customs officials.

I easily grab my bag and make it through the last checkpoint into LA. I am feeling very accomplished and also glad to be home.