How to enjoy life on two incomes, no kids.

Moab, Utah

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 22:18:51 -0600

There’s a certain kind of person who wakes early, opens a window to feel the warm sun on their face, takes in a big lungful of life and is filled with the need to get on some clothes and do some kind of physical activity. Absolutely no one in my genepool is that kind of person, but I understand that they exist and have the right to live however they want. Moab, Utah was designed for such a person.
You can get very cheap accommodations at any of local motels, but I recommend renting an apartment from “Accommodations Unlimited.” We got a one bedroom garden apartment with a comfortable living room, a laundry room and a full kitchen, including all the kitchen stuff you don’t realize you need until you are standing there holding the can. It cost us $110 a night and, by Moab standards, it was expensive and luxurious.
For activities, there’s hiking, white water rafting, mountain biking, rappelling, camping, horseback riding, and a myriad of other physically demanding sports. We spent most of our time watching Project Runway reruns and playing Clue. The best time of year to visit is March and not high summer, as it is a desert, and the best time of day to go out and about is in the early morning. The worst possible time to go is at 3 p.m. in late June when you’re 38 years old and have several inches of happiness jiggling around your mid-section. Not that I didn’t have a lovely time.
I did, in fact, have a lovely time. The blazing heat and the importance of water is evident the moment you stick your nose out, and makes everything feel dire and life-threatening. Both Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, which surround Moab, have long and satisfying road tours, with places to pull over and even take a quick walk for a better photo opportunity or to climb under the rock arches. There were jack rabbits and lizards and tiny, tiny birds, and also marmunks, a fictional creature invented by my niece which she spotted everywhere. There were places where the ground was gold and rust and glass, which was beautiful, and places where the ground was turquoise and rust, which was not gorgeous at all and felt like a different planet entirely. There were thin, etched paths marked by rock cairns that wound off in a direction, to nowhere. All of it was exotic and lawless.
I would not recommend the Hummer tours. Very expensive, crowded, filled with children who are not charming and well-behaved, and they don’t take you anywhere very remarkable, although our driver did a government survey of the bird population in Canyonlands for two years and told us stories about his misadventures in the wild. I found the idea of his life very romantic. His girlfriend is living in Grand Canyon. I think about them and how they must be the type who needs to be alone for weeks in the middle of emptiness, looking for birds to earn money or, when they have to, leading tourists through carefully sequestered areas designated for public use. It didn’t take long for me to decide there was a subculture of white college-educated libertines pacing the desert. Breathing the dust eventually grants them fluency in the secret language of ancient rock drawings, which map the location among the unfound ruins of ancient America to... maybe a fountain of immortality or the heart of a god, guarded by a coiled snake. And then they are no longer able to be normal, find an internship in marketing and get that good-paying, white-collar job working with the computer. They can no longer sit in a car for two hours a day, or watch TV, and no one understands them, particularly their parents. So they return to the desert and face eternity. Which would at least explain why they’re so laid back and not freaking out about saving money for retirement. I mean, I’m freaking out about that and I have a job.
I would recommend taking the extra trip to drive through Canyonlands, however, and to allow extra time for the Windows in Arches, both of which are visual treats. If you plan to take the guided tour to the Fiery Furnace, be sure to visit the Arches Visitor Center as soon as you arrive. You need to reserve a spot, and they go quick.

Glenwood Springs | Mon-Weds.

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 09:06:30 -0600

Glenwood Springs, Colorado, is located in the Rocky Mountains, two and a half hours west by car from Denver. It’s famous for its natural hot springs, which smell very badly and lured Doc Holiday to his death in 1887.

We stayed at the Hotel Denver, which was a bit more “authentic” than enjoyable. The bedding and bathrooms were second-rate, the antiques included with the room were worse for wear, and it took ten minutes before the woman at the desk got off the phone to check us in. Breakfast included pump-your-own coffee, mini-muffins, and a bowl of fruit arranged on a sideboard in the lobby barely large enough for the cream and sugar packets.

Of our experience there, I would recommend the cavern tour which can be found at the Glenwood Adventure Park and Kung Fu Panda, which we ended up seeing. Beyond that, Glenwood Springs isn’t worth your time.

San Francisco | Long Weekend

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 10:16:21 -0600

We discovered that United Airlines would sell us a roundtrip Sat-Mon flight to San Francisco for $235 each. I recommend the Special Deal page on their web site to anyone thinking about taking a last minute trip to Anywhere But Here. It’s the only one I’ve found where you can specify a Departure city and get a list of Arrival options. But caveat emptor: discount flights are generally listed with a price that is “per person, per flight” so the $117 price is actually twice that (roundtrip). Since this is unlike how pricing is displayed everywhere else in the site, and requires me to do that much more analysis when I’m bargain hunting, this nasty little convention fills me with rage.

Unfortunately, United fails to apply the excellent customer experience of their web site to the planes themselves. I’m an admittedly pudgy woman, but I am average by the standards of the day and my hips are not curvaceous. United seats are barely accommodating to someone of my size, and definitely constrictive to anyone larger. We were given the option to upgrade to “Economy Plus,” which we took, of course. Unfortunately, the upgrade only provided five inches of additional leg room, which is great if you’re six feet tall.

ON THE FLIGHT: United is an excellent source for good deals on airfare, with the best website in the industry. The planes, however, are only comfortable if you’re an anorexic basketball player. I also found the people on it to be unusually chatty and sociable. Strike two.

After seeing what destinations are listed, I spend a lot of time in Google Maps. I spend a lot of time there generally. There is no better free resource for the traveller than Google Maps. I was in the mood for ocean water, so I quickly decided on California. Crescent City was too cold, and San Diego was too hot. That left Modesto. And, had I not fixated on relaxing in the otherworldly, technicolor glow of the Monterey Aquarium, I might well have pointed the rental car east, and spent the weekend among the pines of Yosemite. The point is always to always zoom out to find out what is nearby.

The Special Deal destinations are generally secondary regional airports. At first I thought these were the only discounted fares, but Josh recommended I also search for SFO to see if it was that much more expensive. Turned out it wasn’t, but it would have alright to have flown into Modesto if it was. So: use the special offer tools to decide where to go, and then see if you can make the experience even better by comparing prices of airports closer to where you want to go. If you choose to save money going to an airport that offers a discount rate, take into consideration the fact that you may need to rent a car to get where you really want to go. I mean, no one really means to go to Modesto.

Since we wanted to go to Monterey and the airfare there was prohibitive, we rented a car. What a disaster.

But first, from the airport, we took the AirTrain to the Car Rental Center. The stop prior to ours was a BART station. Josh said the whole AirTrain was new, that everything was under construction when he left the Bay Area. I was impressed that they made it so easy to get from the airport to public transportation. The Car Rental Center was a reasonably smooth transaction, but we were definitely getting tired.

The flight from Denver was 3 hours long, followed by a long, serpentine walk out to the AirTrain. We guided by good signage, but it was no short hop. Then we had to stand on a train for a few stops, and then we had to get in line at the car rental place. This, while carrying a backpack full of clothes and a laptop. The whole experience was pretty low impact but it kept going and going.

The Alamo car rental booth had long lines and 3 attendants, 1 of which served Quicksilver Members only. That said, the 2 attendants in charge of the bourgeois were doing their best to keep things moving. We said no to the optional insurance, the optional roadside service, the optional shakedown money, the optional donation to charity, and every other optional option they presented to us. We declined the opportunity to pre-pay a tank of gas at $3.88 a gallon. Josh’s mother said that they charge you “an average tank” of gas based on their fleet. If you rent an Economy or Compact, then you may be pre-paying for more gas than the car can actually hold. This is in line with my theory that if something wasn’t profitable to a company, they wouldn’t be doing it. Besides, who wants to deal with the gas light being on as you drive to the airport?

Driving into the city, Josh was reintroduced to metropolitan traffic. Living in Denver, one gets accustomed to moving forward without too much interruption. The experience isn’t all that much calmer, given the local drivers’ predilection for falling asleep at the wheen, which causes them to swerve from their lane into the next one, namely yours. But driving in Denver doesn’t entail all that much sudden braking, so much as beeping and making rude gestures and screaming. Josh found the adjustment from crazed looking left and right to crazed looking forward and back. The drive into the city was filled with uncomfortable silences punctuated by shifting contents and bursts of rage.

We went budget and stayed at the Monaco. I would definitely stay there again. Their prime rate, Saturday night, for a Deluxe room with a Queen bed was $185. Sunday night was $172. I found out later that they’d sent me an email offering me a discounted upgrade to one of their larger suites, which I was bummed to discover too late. I really love incremental upgrade deals. Next time, I’ll be more vigilant.

The reason the Monaco is so highly recommended, despite the fact that it’s located on the seedier side of Van Ness and has no parking and the valet service is $45 a night, and the doorman is dressed in a zoot suit (oh wait, that was a plus), is because the beds are down. Every cultivated misanthropic traveller knows that fine hotels are judged by three things: the bed, the bathroom, the food. The Ritz Carlton will give you the same bed, with a slightly better mattress, elevated, and in king size. But the Ritz Carlton will charge you $409 a night, not $185.

The room, despite being a Deluxe, was very small, making it difficult sometimes for Josh and I to navigate at the same time. The bathroom was unremarkably sized and unremarkably appointed, but the shower pressure was consistently wonderful and heated up quickly. The sinks were wide and shallow, which made running the water while brushing your teeth meaningless and splashing it around afterwards mandatory. The shampoo, conditioner, soaps and lotions were L’Occitane.

The Grand Cafe is located on the lobby. Cathedral ceilings and dramatic windows are upstaged by creepy iron bunny sculptures, and oversized reprints by Jules Chéret. 2 out of 3 waiters had a thick continental accent. The food was good, although not remarkably. The scrambled was a little wet but, to their credit, I believe that’s a European convention. I ordered coffee during brunch, and was gently told to provide clarification. We sampled several breakfasts, none of which disappointed but none of which impressed. For a $30 meal, it was fine.

Josh took the car to go buy new shoes, and dropped me off in Japantown.

THINGS TO LOVE in Japantown:
Kinokuniya is the bookstore to beat. Downstairs is dedicated to manga, t-shirts, and pop culture, with a really nice art-book section. Upstairs has fiction, cookbooks, an extensive, and usually crowded, magazine rack, and the holy of holies: the craft section. I didn’t end up with the feeding frenzy I thought I would, but not from lack of choices. I bought two crochet books with beautiful patterns for vests and cardigans, and an embroidery book. Not a big deal.

Nippon-Ya is a store where you can buy boxes of Japanese cakes and cookies wrapped just so in elegant packaging. It is an adventure choosing souvenirs for friends and family from this store. I got presents for my boss and coworkers here.

Ichiban Kan’s slogan is “different things!” That’s a great description of this grocery/dollar store. I bought a stoneware spoon and a shopping bag full of Japanese candy. Mango fruit chews, rice candy, special bitter chocolate pocky for men, packages that contain just sugar cookies, but are illustrated so fetchingly you buy it for the box.

Bushi tei was an experience. Saturday night was booked, but they could seat us on Sunday at 8 p.m. The restaurant is paneled in the reclaimed beams of a nineteenth century Japanese estate. They’re rough and crooked and dark. The rest of the restaurant is unabashedly modern. The service was very good, although we did have to wait ten minutes to be seated. We didn’t mind, though, since it afforded us the opportunity to spy on and make up stories about the other patrons. For a small dining room, we were extremely comfortable. There was plenty of room between the tables and the chairs were very well built. I had wine with dinner, which I never do. Their Sauvignon Blanc was delicious, dry without being too vinegary. Josh ordered an appetizer and an entree. I ordered Waka’s Omakase (Waka being the chef, it’s his choice menu of five courses). We had a lot of fun tasting the dishes, and the servings were small enough and spaced enough to allow us to savor each one. At the end of the evening, we ranked the dishes for fun and the results were surprising! Josh and I agreed on the best dish, but not much else. The whole thing was prohibitively expensive, clocking in at $175 minus tip, but as I told Josh, “I’ve spent more on shoes.” A once-in-a-while treat for sure, but one that delivered of the promise.

In short, what’s NOT to love about Japantown.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of Monterey. We drove down on Sunday morning and, while the weather was perfect and the drive was idyllic (for the passenger), the destination was mobbed. If you enjoy the sound of children screaming and smearing their dirty hands all over the glass you’re trying to look through, then I recommend the Monterey Aquarium on the weekends. If you’re a misanthrope, stay away.

Josh came out of the experience shaken and muttering about “...raped my DREAMS” so you can imagine how well he enjoyed the snarl of traffic on 158 we hit while heading north. If I had to do it over again, and I probably will, I’d take the train from the airport to BART and ride the rails/cable cars to my hotel and do without the car and the road trip entirely. I’d save the rental fees plus the cost of valet. It’s not like there’s anywhere to park, anyway. My advice: skip the crowds, skip the car, take a cab. There’s plenty in the city to keep you occupied.

Before we left, we visited the Ferry Building. It was a nice indoor mall marketplace, and reminded me of Faneuil Hall. Something much more memorable was poised just outside: Louise Bourgeois’ Crouching Spider.