Before each wearing
My formerly black and white
Dress gets more color
Drink, Hike, Drink Day 4: No Wines Wet Chickens! June 3, 2019
Before leaving checking out of the inn and leaving Occidental, we recreated a photo from our previous trip with the Inn’s chimney with a heart on it.
Our next task of the day was to complete my quest of finding a rain jacket. Thankfully, this was accomplished at Sonoma Outfitters in Santa Rosa. I had a feeling I was not the first person to enter the store having not packed appropriately for the seemingly ever-changing weather of the region. The staff was very helpful, and I found what I needed.
We drove on to Sonoma, passing another big metal chicken on the way (still no photo! hmmph!). The Ravenswood tasting room was our first stop there. We’d been fans of their wines for some time and had visited during both our previous trips to Sonoma. As it turned out, we had pretty good timing for our third visit because upon arrival we learned that it was the final day the tasting room would be open! Very recently, the Ravenswood had been bought by Gallo, and the powers that be had decided to close the tasting room. The employees seemed to be making the most of the situation, though. They poured several off-menu wines, including some from GIANT bottles (the ones that hold the volume of around 6-8 regular bottles). According to the guy who conducted our tasting (who I suspect was happily tipsy, although that could have simply been his personality), just about everyone who worked there had found other jobs, which was good to hear.
In addition to being generous with the pours, they were also giving away just about everything that was not nailed down, so when we purchased our wine, it came with some glasses, some pencils, and some buttons with the Ravenswood slogan “No Wimpy Wines” in various languages. Translations of idioms are fun.
It took me a moment to understand “No Wines Without Eggs”
The French one amused me the most, its direct translation being “No Wines Wet Chickens.” What about wines big metal chickens? I have to imagine that would be acceptable because big metal chickens are not wimpy.
No Wines Wet Chickens!
We took some more photo re-creation opportunities while we were in Sonoma.
We then peruse some of the shops in Sonoma and had lunch at the Sunflower Caffe before hitting the road again. Traffic crawled for much of the drive, but we eventually arrived at our destination, the 5th Street Inn in Mariposa. We ate dinner across the street from the inn at Castillos, where, lurking amid the Mexican decor was this little clip koala bear. I had to wonder who put it there and why. There must be a story here. If necessary, I will make one up!
A spy?
After dinner, we walked around Mariposa and browsed some of the shops, including the Ridgeline Gallery, where an employee gave us very helpful tips for visiting and parking at Yosemite. We also bought some art there, but lest we be to high faultin’, we then bought beer at a gas station–keepin’ it real.
The streets in Mariposa are paved with butterflies!
We returned to the inn to retire for the evening. The bed in our room was a murphy bed, and, never having slept on one before, I was oddly excited to use it. The experience itself wasn’t terribly exciting, but then again, ideally, sleep shouldn’t be exciting. Anyhow, using a murphy bed is now one more thing I’ve done in my life.
Drink, Hike, Drink Day 3: Cave Tasting and the Quest for a Rain Jacket June 1, 2019
The day after we’d met our anniversary twins, at breakfast we met a couple who’d also met each other at the University of Illinois while they were in graduate school. California was crawling with our relationship twins!
We’d scheduled a cave tasting (that is, a wine tasting and tour of the caves) at Alexander Valley Vineyards, so we headed there first. The caves are human-made, their construction having begun in the 1990s to provide a space for barrel aging that naturally stays within a very narrow, wine-friendly temperature range. Additional caves are under being dug, but at present space is tight, especially considering that forklifts must be employed regularly to move barrels in and out as they require topping off. As our guide explained some of the challenges of keeping track of which wines were where, when the barrels would need to be accessed, etc, the wheels in Ian’s head began to turn as he began to envision a database for this information. “Sounds like some wine IT is needed!” he said. A new career path? Time will tell.
During the tour, we did a barrel tasting of two wines that were identical except for the type of oak (French or American) barrel they were aging in. The difference was subtle, but it was there. We also met a charming dog named Cali (short for California), who had knack for finding bungs that occasionally popped out of their wine barrels (oh boy, new toy!) and learned some interesting facts about cork!
- Wine corks cost 30 to 80 cents a piece (I would have guessed no more than 5 cents!).
- A cork oak must be at least 25 years old before its bark can be harvested, and after that, the bark can be stripped again every 9 to 12 years (which I guess might explain the cost of cork)
Are you fascinated?! No? Well, how about a pretty picture then?
Cool tree on the grounds of Alexander Vally Vineyards, under which several members of the family who started the vineyard are buried
For lunch, we went to Bear Republic in Healdsburg. Since we were leaving for the Yosemite area the following day, I took a look at the updated forecast for the area and began to get very concerned that I had not packed properly for our time there. Whereas mild weather and scattered showers had previously been predicted, the more recent forecast was for chilly temperatures, rain, and *gasp* snow. I was ill-equipped, so after lunch, we began a quest to find me an appropriate rain jacket and another layer to wear under it. I won’t bore you with the details–Ian was less than enthralled at the process, so you probably don’t want to read an essay about it. Suffice it to say I was unsuccessful in my quest on that day. Back to the wine.
We visited two more wineries that day, Ridge, which was new to us, and Dry Creek, where we’d been twice before (and belong to their wine club). With purchases there, we were steadily amassing a good collection of bottles to send home.
Selfie at Ridge Vineyards
Back at the inn, during wine hour in the common room, Ian and I chatted with an interesting woman who not only had a full time day job but also had a side hustle editing articles for archeology journals (because yeah…that’s a pretty popular side hustle) and was working on a historical graphic novel about World Word War I. As she described the project, she kept saying, “Now, don’t steal this idea!”—as if I could even…I don’t draw, and I’ve forgotten just about everything I learned in history class about WWI except the bit about Arch Duke, who I believe was the drummer for Franz Ferdinand, being assassinated…or something like that. Also, there were a lot of trenches, and it was quite unpleasant.
After our new friend had to skedaddle, I eyed the fancy (we’re talking a wooden board that turns and letter holders that I think were made of iron) deluxe Scrabble set on the coffee table in front of us and suggested to Ian that we play a game. Normally, Ian avoids playing Scrabble with me, in part because he has beaten me only once in all the times we’ve played and he gets a little sick of losing, but he agreed this time. We weren’t actually able to finish the game before we had to stop get ready for our dinner reservations, but I was more than 100 points ahead, so… Well, heck, I’m happy he played with me.
We had a nice dinner at Hazel that night then returned to the inn to get organized in order to head toward Yosemite the following day.
Shenanigans in the Safari Room
Onco-Chic July 23, 2018
My hospital gown
Coordinates quite nicely
With my hair today
Coordination is key!
Barcelona Day 5, Part 1: Queen of Spain or International Hat Thief? July 26, 2017
After four nights in our hotel, I finally was able to remember which switch on the wall next to my bed corresponded to the bedside lamp and which controlled the room’s main lights. With this accomplishment, Rachel bestowed upon me the title Queen of Spain. It’s possible she does not actually have the authority to grant such a title, but I had no readily available proof that she didn’t, so I gladly accepted it.
We began our day with breakfast at the hotel, which, I don’t believe I’ve mentioned before was the Ayre Hotel Gran Vía, but owing to some humorous garbling in my brain, we had come to refer to as the Ariana Grande Hotel. Anyhow, the breakfast buffet was good, despite being somewhat treacherous (at least for a grace-challenged person like me) by tables placed too close together. It included chilled cava, so we could see no reason not to make ourselves mimosas to toast my coronation. There was a minor incident when I pressed the cappuccino button on the magic coffee machine and received only hot milk. Eager to remedy this grievous error, I pressed the espresso button, which delivered the sought-after caffeinated liquid but caused my cup to overflow and created a bit of a mess. How thoroughly embarrassing on the first day of my reign!
Next on our itinerary was a visit to Park Güell. To get there, we climbed numerous hills and roughly half the stairs in the world. In the middle of one of the staircases, we encountered a man who apparently thought it was the perfect time and place to initiate some sort of packing reorganization project. He had taken the contents of several plastic bags (bottles of soda and sundry items) and spread them out across most of the width of the steps (-1 point for lack of self-awareness, dude). All that aside, Park Güell was really cool and made me feel vaguely like I had stepped inside a Dr. Seuss book, albeit with less rhyming.
I believe this was known as Gaudí’s Gingerbread Period
Ceiling selfie
Lizards abound!
When we finished exploring the park, we set off in search of snacks, persevering through additional skirmishes with Google Maps and managing to evade a woman on the street who seemed to be trying her best to light us on fire with her cigarette (-1 point for lack of self-awareness, -1 point for attempted incendiarism of pedestrians). But it was all worth it, for, to the victors went the churros!
Hard-fought and delicious
Since my vacations tend to feel incomplete without a visit to a local hat shop, we went next to Sombreria Mil. Upon entering the store, I knew I was about to undertake a marathon of trying on hats, so I removed the hat I’d been wearing, stuffed it into my purse, and got right to work. A few minutes in, while attempting to extricate a particular hat from a stack, I knocked over a foam mannequin head and sent a different stack of hats toppling to the floor. Then, in trying to tidy up that mess, I managed to drop the hats I’d been holding from the first stack. A shop employee rushed over to tend to the situation. Although I apologized profusely, she simply shot me a death glare and went about restoring order.
I shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps she was just having a bad day, and again began my quest of determining which hat would come home with me. Rachel also continued to try on hats, even though she’d all but decided she was going to buy the first one she’d tried on (which, I do have to say, was adorable). All this time, I couldn’t help but feel that the shop-tender was still giving me the stink-eye. Granted, I was a bumbling tourist who’d knocked some stuff over. Some righteous annoyance at me was reasonable, but I wasn’t sure I deserved the amount of ire conveyed by her glowers. After several minutes of this, I finally made eye contact with her, confronting her glare, and giving her a look as if to say What?!
“Could you open your bag, please?” she snapped.
That’s when it hit me. She must have glimpsed me stuffing my hat in my purse after entering the shop and thought I was stealing. “Oh!” I said, opening my bag wide and pulling out the hat. “I was wearing this when I came in!” I held it out for her to see, practically inviting her to examine the sweat stains and feel the slightly gritty film on it from being accidentally immersed in the sea the previous day. The woman’s face relaxed, she apologized, and the rest of the shop visit passed very pleasantly. Rachel and I both left with new (fully paid-for) hats.
The Lizard Chronicles 