#93: cow-tipping in vermont

Among the "ambiance" of one-size-fits-all stereotypical US cities, Vermont towns are a welcome few that buckle the trend. It was really like what I had heard it to be .... rolling hills, meandering roads with hardly any traffic, crystal blue lakes on either side, ski-slopes at a distance .... and most importantly, people who were so friendly and welcoming. Just imagine leaving your homes and cars with all possessions completely unlocked day after day, week after week, years on end, and nothing ever goes missing. It's a kind of rural simplicity I never thought I'd see in this day and age, and in this country.

Temperatures were in the 90s, and then I landed up in Middlebury where it was downright chilly at night. The College is the heart of a quaint and historic little town. Burlington is a bit more of a city. Stowe is a winter ski-resort that has funky antique car-parades in summer when the entire town descends on to that one main street and sits patiently on its sides to cheer and holler as those vintage cars roll by. And then there are towns with names like Moscow and InkyDinkyOinky Ink. If you haven't been to Vermont, you owe yourself a trip. You'll do the locals a favour in return. Too many visitors there are bratty college kids from Massachusetts and New York who cannot think beyond their juvenile sport of "cow-tipping".

PS: The "Adirondacks" are a signature furniture style of the region. And I stumbled upon a re-enactment of a battle of 1780s between French and English troops on the banks of Lake Champlain.

#85: california dreamin'

An ode to the Governator (aka Golden) State is what this is, after my recent trip there. I was visiting the Bay Area, to be more precise. SF was where I had begun my first trip to US, exactly 25 years ago. I had been to SF once thereafter, some 11 years ago. So this trip was a mixed bag of reliving some vague nostalgia, and making some new memories.

Some things (thankfully) have not changed. The TransAmerica Building still dominates the skyline, the bridges (BB and GG) remain just as imposing – playing hide-and-seek with the rolling mist and fog all day long. The 13 hills of SF are all there, and so is the cityscape that blends into their hilly slopes. Lombard Street is as crooked as ever; Chinatown remains just as distinct in character. It is a truly global city, and a very tolerant one at that. It is perhaps a bit touristy (I joined their ranks), but I am so used to DC with its summer-hoards of camcorders and cameras.

And what can I say of the weather. Flying out from 95 degrees in the east coast to at most 65 degrees in midday sun, with a gentle breeze blowing all day long .... I see why Californians, and all my friends from SF, loathe to live anywhere else. I think I saw more Mazda Miatas in 3 days of walking around than I had seen in 10 years in MD/DC. And why not! With days like those all year round, it would be a criminal waste not to indulge.

Some things have changed though. I went to Sausalito .... chasing the memory of my first hot-dog ever, at the water-front from a small store that had a crooked street inside. But now the whole town is a boutique mall – with private yacht clubs and exclusive shopping pavilions for those with high-heels and deep-pockets. No street-side vendors there; Dot.com billionaires are here to stay.

SF still heads my list of three favourite US cities. I'd love to live there someday .... and go running along Crissy Field, watch the 49ers and the Giants play (maybe), and watch the sun set over the Pacific from the Muir Woods (definitely). Maybe some day.

PS: I can now tick these off my "to-do in SF" list ....

• Climbing atop Coit Tower
• Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge on foot
• Eating dim-sums in Chinatown
• Feasting on an In-N-Out Burger
• Browsing at Ghirardelli and Levi's stores

Mission partly accomplished; tons more left to do. Next time ....

#75: europe stealing thunder

TGV, France set the world speed record for trains on wheels. At that speed, a trip from DC to NYC would take 35 minutes, not the 3.5 hours it takes for Acela! The Airbus A380 earned favourable reviews on its trial trips to the rest of the world (more on that some other day).

For the first time since WWI, market capitalisation in European stock markets exceeded that of their US couterparts. Even counterfeiters now prefer the Euro to the greenback US$.

Other than David Beckham's mega-million-dollar retirement plan, most "firsts" are being clocked east of "The Pond". Is Uncle Sam losing his edge?

#66: in pilgrims' footprints

Thanksgiving. I figured it's a gathering of family and friends. But I never found out its significance. My closest family is a 5-hour flight away; tickets prices peak then ... you get the drift. What then gave this year? Well, it's not everyday that someone invites me to her first festive cooking, I knew I would have good company, I had a new camera, "that other Cambridge" had been on my to-visit list for a while, and I had had enough of MD! The stars were all aligned.

The meal was a true feast. I did my part .... spilt the filling of the pumpkin pie in a hot oven and saw it burn up in seconds (leaving a not-so-pleasant odour all over the apartment), chipped a coffee mug in the sink – among other bloopers. My friend was remarkably patient and forgiving. I fear though, that I've burnt my bridges!

To complete the experience, we drove to Plymouth – where the Pilgrims (now I know what this is all about) landed and settled in circa 1620. A scaled replica of Mayflower, somewhere between a ship and a "supersized" boat, sails annually on a round-trip across the Atlantic. When moored, it is a museum there. All nice and dandy. The shocker was a tacky "Plymouth Rock". My friend narrates it more eloquently ....

".... my trip to Plymouth, to see where the Pilgrims landed .... you know, the place where they met the natives, befriended them and lived happily ever after (so the history books go). I also got to see THE Plymouth Rock. Much to my dismay, Plymouth Rock turned out to be, well, a rock. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but I was terribly disappointed with the unremarkable stone that had the etching "1620" on it".

Exactly. Her expression says it all.

Thanks Maria, for a thanksgiving worthy of its true sentiments. And for one of my most enjoyable weekends of the year.

#65: lessons from the road

Driving can be therapeutic or a chore or both; it depends on the curvature of your indifference curves. And the longer the distance – the more polarised are travellers’ perceptions.

I enjoy driving – under normal circumstances; Thanksgiving week is anything but “normal”. An estimated 31.8 million travellers were on the road that weekend. Compare this with the 5 million who flew, or the 2 million who chose the bus or rail. Everyone I spoke to before embarking on this 1000 mile round-trip asked, “Por qué? Why on earth would you do this to yourself?”. And I questioned my own wisdom. But the die had already been cast. I was resigned to do my bit to line the pockets of BP and Exxon executives. I owed them my contribution to the global economy!

Driving gives me a sense of control – tempered by the worry of sharing the roads with sharks (aka Hummers and lunatics on wheels). It's an adventure, a change of sight in each moment when not dwelling on the monotony of the highway. It gives me quality time with myself – not always possible while chasing deadlines and routines. It is also an opportunity for time-travel to my music collection on audio cassettes some 12-15 years old. What can a person do if the car does not have a CD player, a satellite radio, or the ubiquitous iPod or one of its clones? (Now that's a hint: get an iPod and/or a travelling companion who does). S&G, R.E.M., Dire Straits, and the Beatles. They evoked old memories, and some new relevance for the present day. “You say goodbye and I say hello .... I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello”. John Lennon was prophetic.

The regular route from DC to Boston is the I-95 through NYC. Bypassing Manhattan and taking the Tappan Zee Bridge was a brilliant suggestion from a AAA advisor. It saved time (at least 3-4 hours), money on tolls, and frustration. Take my word …. avoid the bridges and tunnels of NYC and you’ll be a happy camper! And if you can, get a good night's sleep at a friend's place in Princeton! Thanks Victor.

Filling up gas in New Jersey was a remarkable experience. The rates are the best along the coast, and perhaps in the country – thanks to their aversion to taxes. That’s the good part. But if you dare step out of your car to fill gas, you do so at your own risk. You will be chased by an angry mob of gas-station attendants armed with gas nozzles and menacing looks of a militia in a conflict zone. You will be cursed into submission and yelled at to hop back into the car while “they” take over. How was I to know that in NJ (and in Oregon), all gas stations are mandated full-service? I can’t imagine why …. other than local legislators figuring that their residents could not be entrusted with the rocket-science of filling gas into their own cars, or for creating employment any way they could! Well, I learnt a lesson. So if an army of angry attendants at a gas station in NJ charges you, it's not because you racially resemble the stereotypical “most mistrusted in America”. They are just earning a living; no discrimination there!