Sunday, April 29, 2012

Steam Trains and California Bears

I'm not the best when it comes to getting out of the house.  My mind tends to dwell on what I can read, play on the computer, or watch on Netflix rather than where the weekend might take me.  Thankfully I'm married to a wonderful woman who, though she often likes to stay in as well, is adept at getting my butt off the couch and into the car for a weekend outing.  I like to think it's because she loves me, but, deep down, we both know it's because she prefers to be chauffeured over the weekend.  And that's fine with me.  Even with the driving, I know I'm getting the better end of the deal.  This proved particularly true yesterday after Sumie successfully shot down my objections to Bay Bridge traffic and set us out for a trip to Berkeley.

We followed our usual plan for weekend travel.  We pick a general destination, the time we want to leave the house, and the basic route we want to take.  After that, we let chance take us where we need to be.  For some this might be a bit unnerving, but rarely has it failed us for a great day out or weekend getaway.  For our trip to Berkeley, we mapped out a route to University Ave and decided to leave at 10:00am.

It took us at most 30 minutes from our house to Berkeley's University Ave exit.  No traffic.  Perfect.  As we approached the campus, Mimi fell asleep.  That meant more driving.  And that meant skirting the campus and heading into the Berkeley hills.  We didn't have a map or a plan, so we just went up, up, and up.  The roads are tight and winding, but the views more than make up for the slow rate of progress.
Not only do you get a view of Berkeley and the bay, you get the city of San Francisco and both bridges, the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate, to boot.  No wonder so many people have decided to set their home fires on these hills, despite the incline and expense.

On our way to the top we left the residential areas and drifted into Tilden Park.  What a phenomenal place.  The one drawback to our happy-go-lucky travel planning was that we failed to bring a picnic lunch.  As we scooted around the park, avoiding the countless sado-masochistic bicyclists who spend their weekends shooting up and down the hills for fun, we came across a sign: "Steam Trains."  There was no choice.  We had to go.

Towards the top of the park is what can only be described as both a little kid and elderly geek heaven: acres and acres of scale model, fully operational steam trains.  And these aren't approximations, with gasoline or diesel engines.  These are the real deal, full-on steam locomotives.  Just tiny.  For the bargain price of 3 dollars per ticket, with kids under 2 years old riding free, we boarded our train.  
Mimi, as readers will remember, loves trains.  As we headed out, though, she was a bit apprehensive about this relatively loud and open-air experience.  Mimi's used to the quiet, electric trains of Japan, so a bout with real steam was a bit of a shock. 
But nothing prepared Mimi for the tunnel.   Between the dark, the movement, and all the excited riders screaming to hear their voices echo, the tunnel wasn't exactly Mimi's favorite part of the ride.  But Mimi, now nearly two, braved it without so much as a whimper or tear. 
Upon returning we stopped to admire the steam engine for a while.  The engineer was an older, most likely retired gentleman who had a fascination with all things steam.  You could tell that he worked on the engine and loved keeping it in top shape.  That's a hobby I could get into.  Quite seriously.
By the time we finished our journey we were all starving, so we made our way out of the hills.  This, thanks to spotty reception and the occasional "difference of opinion" between driver and navigator, took a bit longer than it should've, but we eventually made it back down for lunch on Telegraph.  Being in a college town, even though it definitely made me feel older, was a welcome change.  It reminded us of our time on the Upper West, up near Columbia and later not far from Julliard.   

After lunch we walked onto campus.  Here's Mimi at Sather Gate.  I wonder if she'll look back on this picture as a Berkeley student.  Her aunt, a UC Bekeley alum and ferocious California Bears fan, would approve.  Sumie and me, we'd be happy, but I think we'd rather her go to Columbia.  That way we'd have all the more reason to visit NYC. 
From the gate we strolled over to the Campanile, Berkeley's famous clock and bell tower.  We considered going up, but Mimi had other plans.  Fierce kicking and cries for milk signaled that it was time to head for home.   
It was a great day out.  In fact, we felt so at home in Berkeley, both in the hills and around the campus, that we actually started investigating homes and schools in the hills and outlying areas.  Of all the places we've visited in the Bay so far, this felt the most innately like home to us.  We still have a lot to explore, but when it comes to where we might be in 2 to 3 years, I think it's safe to say that Berkeley area is definitely on our list.  

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Sand, Sun, and Sakura - Santa Cruz and the SF Cherry Blossom Festival

I do not tan.  It is a sad but irrefutable fact.  Unlike my lovely wife, whose skin simply grows deeper and richer in color from a day in the sun, I have only two skin tones: pasty white or lobstery red.  This hadn't been much of an issue, though, living on the east coast.  Sure, I'd get the occasional red nose from an open sunroof or trucker's arm from a sunny drive up the Taconic Parkway, but nothing major.  As such, I'd forgotten just how fierce, and unforgiving, the California sun can be.  Well, at least until I found myself frying to a crisp on the beach in Santa Cruz.

Our Saturday started innocently enough.  We wanted to get out of the house, but didn't know where to go, so we packed a few essentials for toddler travel (stroller, diapers, change of clothes, snacks, and Valium), and made our way west to Ocean Beach and then took US 1 south.  Before we knew it, the toddler was asleep.  Knowing our bundle of joy will wake, without fail, as soon as the car stopped, we just kept moving.  It's a good thing we got that diesel Jetta with the great gas mileage because by the time Mimi started coming round we were already in Santa Cruz.

Sumie had never been to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, so we braved the abysmal traffic and parked in a grass overflow lot right below the log ride.  The temperature difference was astounding.  Between the heat and humidity Santa Cruz felt like NYC in July.  That's Northern California, though.  Drive more than an hour and chances are you'll need a change of clothes.

Mimi was still a bit young for the majority of the Boardwalk rides (I can't wait to take her on the Giant Dipper sometime soon), but we thought we'd give the carousel a shot.  Santa Cruz's carousel is famous for still having brass rings, which are fed through a chute for riders on the outer horses.  Shortly after plucking a ring you can throw it at a giant clown which goes off in a satisfying, flashing wail if you manage to hit the mouth.  Or, if you're feeling nostalgic, you can pocket the ring, as I did when I was a kid.  Either way, the carousel is a great piece of vintage Americana that still retains some of the good old danger of historic midway rides.  And Mimi, seeing all the brightly colored horses spinning to the whirly-gig music, was excited to give it a go.

Sumie perched Mimi on an inside horse; better to keep a hold of her that way.  Mimi was all smiles....
...at least until the massive contraption started spinning.  
Within 2 revolutions the rest of the riders were having a great time, but Mimi, our brave little toddler, was screaming her head off.  That's our girl.  
From the carousel we made our way to the end of the boardwalk, where we found a nice cafe with outdoor seating.  My neck and nose were already starting to feel a bit "red and raw," but Sumie insisted.  And then, knowing Mimi loves the water, we headed to the beach.  
I took Mimi down to the waves where she frolicked happily and I looked like an unprepared and dorky tourist with my rolled-up jeans.  Wading finished, we headed back to Sumie and the beach blanket.  There, having already played the aimless tourist, I impersonated a beached whale with sunglasses. 
Sumie, of course, looked beautiful as ever.  Mimi was overjoyed to spend some quality time with her Mama, as you can see.  
As we left Santa Cruz, me already unable to turn my head due to neck burn, we marveled at the traffic coming into town on 17.  At least 5 miles of massive, bumper-to-bumper snarl.  Once again, getting out early paid off.

The next day, Sunday, was a busy one.  The Cherry Blossom (Sakura) Festival was concluding that day with a parade in Japantown and Sumie had been asked to give a speech at a brunch recognizing outstanding Japanese seniors.  As such, we woke up early and suited up.  Mimi woke thinking she'd go as Moses. 
Sumie was representing her hospital at the senior awards breakfast, which has sponsored the event for the past 4 years.  We found it a bit of an odd request - I have a feeling someone in PR noticed her name in the list of new physicians and tagged her for it - but a welcome one.  This year, 15 or so Japanese American veterans were recognized for their service during and after World War II.  Despite their age, each one, without exception, refused assistance when ascending to the stage to receive their rewards.  After all those years the determination, the pride, and the will to be independent was still there.  In short, it was inspiring.

Sumie's speech, as well as the entire brunch, went well.  We would've had pictures if Mimi hadn't decided to scream anytime someone took the stage.   By 11:00 the brunch was over and Sumie and I were free to explore the Cherry Blossom Festival with Mimi.

I absolutely love Japanese festivals, or "matsuris."  They're something uniquely Japanese.  Part county fair, part neighborhood block party, and part Oktoberfest, there's no better way of getting in some games, community spirit, beer, and great food.  Apparently, the entire Iwasaki clan here on the west coast missed matsuris as well, so by 1:00 or so we'd been joined by Sumie's brother and sister, their spouses, and all the cousins. 

We lined up at various vendors for food - good, but not like in Japan - and then found a comfy curb to share it with the kids.  Here's Mimi with Sumie's brother's kids, Shuhei and Asuka.  Kae, Sumie's sister, was still looking for parking. 
Shuhei and Asuka came dressed in festival clothes.  They were ready to party! 
But the mood soon changed.  I think Mimi told Shuhei and Asuka a really bad joke.  I'm not quite sure how she did it, but that's definitely what it looks like. 
Before too long Kae arrived with her husband Ed and their three kids.  Ed and I stood in line for takoyaki.  These are savory Japanese donut holes with a bit of octopus in the middle.  Odd sounding, yes, but also delicious.  You can see the line below.  It took us half an hour, but we got 'em.  
I'm sorry to say that these takoyaki were nothing like what I'd experienced in Japan.  Everyone still seemed to love them, but they just didn't cut the mustard.  I want to have my own both next year and, even though I'm a gaijin (foreigner), show them what real takoyaki tastes like.

We were able to catch the tail end of the parade.  Here's a look at the last shrine going by the Peace Pagoda, complete with semi-naked Japanese men.  No matsuri would be complete without them.  
Mimi was intrigued.  When I asked her what she saw, she replied, "Oshiri."  That's the Japanese word for butt. 
It was a packed, but fantastic weekend.  I'd been thinking we'd just take it easy, but I'm so glad that we went out and made the most of it.  The only thing I would've changed is our wardrobe for the Cherry Blossom festival.  From 8:30am to 3:00pm Sumie was navigating the matsuri in heels and I in a grey Burberry suit.  I stuck out so severely that a vendor tried to force me into getting my face painted just for the irony.   And I would've done it, too...if I didn't like that suit so much!

Monday, April 23, 2012

Muir Woods and Sausalito - Cool Groves to Warm Coasts

With the Golden Gate bridge less than 5 minutes from our door (if traffic behaves), it is a rare month in which when we don't sneak up to Marin for a day out, especially if the Richmond is socked with fog.  I have a soft spot for Marin.  Granted, there are a lot of spoiled, rich, and woefully ironic environmental hippie moguls up there, but no other county on Earth, at least in my limited travels, offers a better combination of history, natural beauty, coast, excellent driving roads, and rapid access to a world-class city.  So, there was no question about it.  We had to take our guests Jeremy, Julie, and Anthony up for a visit.

Julie wanted to see Muir Woods, but doing so on a weekend requires a bit of preparation.  Or at least a bit of determination to get up early.  Sumie and I had attempted a visit before, arriving shortly before noon on a gorgeous Saturday, only to find that parking was non-existent.  This is not an exaggeration.  There are only two limited parking lots for Muir Woods National Monument and once these are full, the only option is to find parking on the side of the road and prepare yourself for a very long walk.  No joke.  When we left the park on Sunday around noon there were roadside parkers stretching out at least a mile, if not two, from the entrance.  I'm all for hiking, but a two mile trek just to get to the trail-head is a bit much. 

Like almost any activity in the Bay Area, getting to Muir Woods early is definitely the way to go.  We arrived shortly before 10:00 to find the first parking lot full, but multiple spots in the second.  With toddlers, finding a spot near the entrance is absolutely essential.  Walking the narrow roads from street parking is fine for an adult, but with a little one in tow or in a stroller, it's not something I'd like to risk.  Well, I suppose it depends on just how Mimi's behaving...

With parking secured, we bundled Anthony and Mimi into a stroller each and set out for the grove. 
Having grown up with visits to California's redwoods, I'd forgotten how imposing and majestic they can be.  Below Anthony examines just how much life a redwood can see before it falls.  Middle ages through the industrial revolution, no problem!  
As we walked through Muir Woods we came across countless tourists laying on their backs, trying their best to capture that moment of being under the towering trees.  Jeremy, who took these shots, got some good ones.  
The world is hushed within the park, the visitors, creek and occasional squirrel the only real noisemakers.  People unconsciously switching to talking in whispers.  It's a bit like the quiet that descends with a heavy snowfall.  Perhaps the moss that covers everything, making the space so verdant, has a similar effect when it comes to absorbing sound. 
Mimi and Anthony, being toddlers, were obsessed with the creek and just how far they could poke themselves through the fences lining the trails.  It really is a perfect place to take a toddler.  All the paths are fenced in, allowing them to roam relatively free, and there's minimal change in elevation (none, really).  We were even able to wield our strollers without too much trouble.  
Giant trees, especially hollow ones, make great hiding places.  Here's Julie in base of a giant...
 ...and here's Anthony after crawling into one of the fallen, and gutted, trunks.  He loved it in there.  Unfortunately he didn't care much for coming out. 
A few cries later - he really loved that hiding place - he was once again enraptured by the park.  The primary path (there are many hiking trails as well) through Muir Woods follows a creek with three distinct wooden bridges to cross along the way.  Anthony seemed to be taken with this one.
Mimi, born in Manhattan, enjoyed the greenery, but was at times more intrigued by the asphalt path.  I guess she is a city girl.  
A little later, Anthony decided it was time to give Mimi a kiss...
 ...Mimi, being the shy, reserved Japanese girl she is, had other ideas. 
Finishing up our tour of the woods we stopped in at the cafe where, surprisingly, the food was quite good.  One doesn't expect quality scones at a random park cafe, but that's what we got!
From Muir Woods we headed up to headlands to catch a glimpse of the Golden Gate from on high.  Here are Jeremy and Julie.  Anthony was snoozing in the back of the car.  
Jeremy and I poked around the old battery installations in the headlands for about 15 minutes and then, recognizing the wives are not quite the history buffs we are, decided we'd head down to Sausalito for lunch.  Sausalito is a small and very upscale town clinging to the north-western hills of San Francisco bay.  As we came down from the headlands, a trip of perhaps a mile at most, we left the clouds and hit the sun at the Sausalito city limits.  That's the San Francisco bay area for you.  
We stopped in at a fish and chips show and then, filled not quite to brim, walked the shore in search of ice cream.  It was a perfect way to end an adventure in the north bay.  As Jeremy snapped pictures I did my best impersonation of a fat tea pot. 
I'm not sure where in the Bay Area Sumie and I will end up in the years to come, but Marin is definitely a front runner.  Now, if only we had a couple rich uncles with no kids...

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Fisherman's Wharf - Making the Most of a Tourist Trap

Fisherman's Wharf.  It's a San Francisco icon.  A must see.  A can't miss.  And, for any San Francisco local, an "avoid at all costs" locale.  It's much like Times Square for any resident of New York City.  You know you have to take your out-of-town friends to see it, but your mind screams, "I'll go anywhere else!  Anywhere!  Even Newark!"   With our friends visiting from Chicago, I was dreading the obligatory "Wharf" visit. 
Thankfully, however, the unique scheduling needs of a toddler turned it into a great outing, even for a crusty local.  Here's how it worked. 

We started off early Friday morning.  After bundling Mimi up and taking her to daycare (one toddler would be sufficient, thank you), Julie, Jeremy, Anthony (just shy of 2 years old), and I headed for Fisherman's wharf.  We left the house around 9:30am, which would avoid the morning rush, get us to the Wharf by 10, and allow us to get back home for a nap.  We took a slightly round-about route from the Richmond district, cresting the steep hills of Divisadero past the mansions of Pacific heights and then down into the Marina. 
We shot east on Lombard and took this all the way to "the crooked street."  On most afternoons and evenings, especially on the weekends, the approach to that famous corkscrew is an absolute nightmare.  Shortly before 10:00am, even on a Friday, it was deserted.  San Francisco offers great diversity but is curiously deficient when it comes to early risers. 
We hit Fisherman's Wharf well before the majority of the shops opened.  It was virtually deserted and, as a result, far more enjoyable.  We could concentrate on the beauty of the bay rather than who we might bump into.  We attempted to get tickets for Alcatraz (Note: these sell out fast.  It's best to buy online) and were turned down for two reasons: 1. They were sold out.  2. The two seemingly most obvious places to sell these tickets don't offer rides to the island.  At the Wharf you'll find the Red and White fleet as well as the Blue and Gold fleet.  They are both prominently positioned and offer bay cruises and tours, but no trips to the rock.  For that, wannabe convicts must hike over to Pier 33, near the Ferry Building.  Again, it's best to buy online. 

However, our diversion to the Red and White ticket office took us to some of the actual working docks, where we stumbled across the Musee Mecanique.  It wasn't yet open, but this is a real hidden gem.  It's filled with mechanical attractions from the now defunct Playland at the Beach, a San Francisco amusement park that surrendered to condos in the 1970s.  It's tucked away (unseen) to the right in the photo below.  A perfect place to ditch the crowds, should you find yourself in one. 
The food stalls were all just opening up.  We were able walk through them with impunity - no catcalls from pushy vendors - and experience the behind-the-scenes work as they set up for the impending lunch shift. 
With most of the tourist-trap shops still closed we were able to stroll quickly down to the maritime museum.  The ships were beautiful, but we experienced the one drawback to going early: when that wind blows out on the pier before noon, it's damn cold!  Jeremy and Julie had to bundle Anthony a bit more than we were first planning.
Even the seagulls were feeling the chill. 
From the maritime museum it was a quick walk up and over the Ghiradelli Square. 
For young couples with toddlers hoping to make this walk as quickly as possible, it is best to employ a balding man who thought leaving his own child in daycare would leave him relatively toddler free.  They get the job done.  
Ghiradelli Square is beautiful, but doesn't have that much to offer beyond the chocolate shops, unfortunately.  It's still worth a visit, though.  We used ours to load up on snacks and then relax in the courtyard to give Anthony his lunch.  And one must get at least one picture with the Ghiradelli sign. 
The toddler topped up, we headed over to fill ourselves with clam chowder in bread bowls at Boudin (touristy, I know, but that bread is just too good) and then to Pier 39 to see the sea lions.  Our walk brought us past the Powell and Hyde Cable Car terminal.  Normally this stop is abysmally packed, but on our Friday morning, even with the blue skies, we could've hopped right on.  
The sea lions are, without fear of argument or contradiction, far and away the best thing about Pier 39.  The pier itself is nothing more than a warning of what life would be like if tourist chains and needless-crap shops ran the world.  The sea lions, though, are a great example of what can happen when animals decide to take charge.  Over 20 years ago some sea lions started using the then operational boat docks at the end of Pier 39.  They were squatters.  And thankfully, Pier 39 decided that it would be best to cut the squatters a break and turn them into what is perhaps the best attraction on the Wharf.  Not only are they fascinating, they're perched on the western side of Pier 39, which means you don't even have to pass all the shops!  Fantastic!
By 1:00 we'd covered most of Fisherman's Wharf and were ready to head for home just as the sights began filling with tourists.  Perfect.  Had we been sans toddler, we probably would've stopped in for a second lunch, or at least a snack, at the Ferry Building.  There are some genuinely tasty shops and restaurants tucked away in that considerably less crowded and more local haven on the Wharf. 

That evening, after picking up Mimi, we celebrated a full day (we hit the Presidio in the afternoon, but that's a different story) with penguin pajamas and juice. 
I actually surprised myself with a fun day out at Fisherman's Wharf thanks to getting out early, good food, and good company.  Hmm, maybe I could give Times Square another chance.  OK, I'll be honest, that last one's not happening.  

Thursday, April 12, 2012

The Phantom Nap

Mimi's a good sleeper...well, at least at night. 

Our bedtime routine is rather extensive, but we keep with it because it works (generally).  Around 8:30 or so we change Mimi into her pajamas and warm up some milk in a sippy cup.  That's the cue for story time.  As Mimi selects her night's books and then runs over to cuddle on Mama's lap, Papa (that's me) heads over to Mimi's room to secure "mofu" (Mimi's blanket), Nyan-nyan (Mimi's kitty), and Baby (Mimi's, er, baby).  The mofu is a necessity for bedtime reading; she simply will not tolerate a story without it.

Mama and Mimi cuddle under the mofu for at least 3 stories (sometimes up to 7 or 8).  Once Mimi's lids begin to droop, which almost almost always coincides with her milk running low, it's time to brush our teeth.  Papa brings out the Dora toothbrush and scrubs the uppers, downers, and fronties.  After that, Mimi gives them a go on her own (this lasts for all of 4 seconds).  Toothbrush set aside, Papa scoops up Mimi and mofu, and then Nyan-nyan and Baby.  Baby must have her hat on.  If not, Mimi will ask Papa gently, but firmly, to cover Baby's little head.  After all, we don't want her getting sick. 

Baby, Nyan-nyan, and mofu in-hand, we say goodnight to Mama with a few blown kisses and a "Bye-bye!"  Walking down the hall towards the bedroom Mimi always gives her Papa a kiss (granted, at his request) before laying down her sleepy head in the crib.  Papa covers her with mofu, wishes her sweet dreams, and closes the door.  On most nights she's in dreamland straight away. 

In the morning I usually find Mimi with Nyan-nyan and Baby at opposite corners of the crib (does she have them box at night?) and mofu covering her head from the morning light. 
The only reason Mimi's head wasn't totally covered here is that I'd already come into the room to wake her.  This is my third attempt and, as one can see, she's still trying to hide under that mofu.  
Thankfully, Mimi really is rather good about bedtime.  It's one of the very, very few ways (I can count them on one finger) that Mimi tries to make our life a little easier.  The full night's sleep helps her to explore the fascinating world around her.  She has the energy to wear Desitin tubes on her feet instead of shoes... 
and to bring Papa her breakfast even when he's all the way in the back room working on a blog post.  Plenty of rest means that Mimi has littered rice in only half the house on her journey, not the entire home.  Lucky me. 
Yes, we seem to have bedtime figured out.  But naps, I'm sad to say, are now a different matter.  Mimi used to be quite good when it came to nap-time, consistently tramping off to dreamland between 1 and 2 each afternoon.  These days, though, it's hit or miss.  On some afternoons she'll go right to sleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.  On others, she'll giggle and squeal from 1:30 to 3:00 without the faintest hint of a yawn or droopy eyelid. 

What we do the morning before seems to have little impact.  On days I think I've worn her out with trips to the museum or park, she'll stay wired through the entire afternoon.  On lazy days when all we did was read, she'll go right down.  And vice-versa.  There seems to be no correlation between morning activities and the guarantee of an afternoon nap. 

I have even taken to going through her bedtime routine each afternoon to help send her off to dreamland.  It worked well at first, but it's definitely not a sure-fire solution.  It's not like Mimi fights me over nap-time, or screams to be let out of her crib when she fails to fall asleep.  On the contrary.  She almost always lets me know when she wants to nap - by saying "ne-ne" - and when she's unable to fall asleep it's almost always because she's too full of giggles.  A stern warning to go to sleep works occasionally (well, it's worked 2 times out of at least 20 so far), but usually, if Mimi gets the giggles, there'll be no nap that day. 

In short, I need some advice.  Nap-times are my "little window of sanity" in the otherwise frenetic and manic days ruled by toddler-logic.  If the readers out there have any tricks, any suggestions, please share!  I'll update in the future.  Thanks!