The Aloha spirit from a can

Before our trip to Kaua'i last week my wife went through the best guidebook about the island (known colloquially as the "blue book") and highlighted and bookmarked a number of places and restaurants she thought looked interesting. On our first morning on the island we went to breakfast at a place called the Kountry Kitchen—a little diner in the town of Kapa'a (on the east shore). Although the island isn't that big,  two lane roads, 25 MPH speed limits, construction, and morning "rush hour" made it take 40 minutes to get to the town where it was, Kapa'a. The wait at the restaurant was over half an hour (in part because of its popularity and in part because there were only about 15 booths in the entire dining area).

While we are far from natives, this was our third Hawaiian trip, so we were experienced. Of course, to the eye of the locals we certainly appear to be pure Haoles (and I suppose, technically, we are). Although I am not the most adventurous eater there are moments when I adopt a when-in-Rome attitude, and when I ordered my simple breakfast of eggs and hashed browns, for the accompanying pork product I chose an option popular on the islands that I never see on the menu back home: Spam.

Air-ported

When people enter an airport they are funneled through a structured area as they go through the security checkpoint; the queue of humans is cordoned off with stanchions and employees keeping things relatively organized.

Then those same people get to the gate for their flight, and the onus to maintain order is left up to those same people who couldn't be trusted minutes earlier. The waiting area by the gate has a counter behind which the employees make announcements about which group gets to board, and there's a bunch of chairs where the pending passengers sit. Beyond that, there's no structure imposed on the space, so when the staff starts announcing who gets to board, people coming from multiple directions to that point of entry at the gate have to queue up with nothing but the patience of some and the pushiness of others to guide them.

Things to do in DFW when you're not dead

So you find yourself in the Dallas/Fort Worth airport with a two-hour layover between flights, and you aren't the sort of person who wants to sit in a bar—er, lounge—running up a tab on overpriced drinks. You don't feel inclined to waste time looking at duty-free watches and perfumes. You don't have on shoes that need shining. Obviously you'll get some overpriced bad food at some point (because as overpriced and bad as it is, it's still less expensive than and not as bad as the food you can purchase during your next flight), but that's not enough to occupy two hours, even if you drag it out by taking tiny bites. Is there nothing else to do but find a not-entirely-comfortable chair by the gate and watch the CNN feed on one of the overhead TV screens (if you're lucky enough to have a TV overhead) or read that book that you were saving for the flight?

Of course! There's the Skytrain!

DFW has five terminals and connecting them is a light-rail system running on a track that traces the perimeter of each one. (The track is elevated above the floor level of the terminals, hence the "sky" aspect, I suppose.) Each terminal has two stations, so that's a total of 10 stops. And the best part of all is that it's completely free. You can get on at one station and ride all the way around, making a complete circuit.

That will kill approximately 19 minutes.

Hence, if you really enjoy gazing out at the tarmac and runways and outlying areas of Dallas, you can ride it about six times completely around. However, the novelty is likely to wear off before then.

Okay, we're down to an hour and 40 minutes (but we'll need to allocate some time for food acquisition and consumption in there). Is there anything else?

Sure. Take the Skytrain around to terminal D. In each of the two courtyard areas adjacent to the two train stations you'll find large art pieces. Walk around and look at them. Heck, you can walk through them.

Circling. It makes sounds as you walk around.

Crystal Mountain. This merely has a small tunnel, with no other interactivity, but it's big.

When you've explored those to your liking, walk around past the gates and look down and admire the murals in the floor. That should kill at least another half hour. Then go eat.

But wherever you choose to eat, find it somewhere other than terminal C. The selections there are the worst.

You had two hours; you should have found better.

~

(More photos will be up on the photo site soon, in case you want to see more don't happen to be in DFW any time soon.)

The story of the squirrel ($8 worth of terror)

Along the stretch of highway south of Monterey, California known as "17-Mile Drive" one of the spots of interest is the lone cypress.

During our trip down the California coast last September my girlfriend and I spent the $8 (yes--eight fraking dollars) to drive along that stretch of private road. While it was technically lovely, it became clear that the only way to make it seem worth the that entry fee was to hit the highlights, and so we made several stops, including the spot mentioned above.

We parked in a marked stall in a lot off from the road. There weren't many cars, being a Thursday morning. We walked along the edge of the cliff next to the parking area to where a set of stairs allowed us to walk down to a platform with a closer view of the famous tree.

After snapping a few photos there the novelty had worn off and we ascended back to the parking area. As we approached our car we noticed a squirrel near the driver's door. Being a wooded area, it wasn't surprising to see such a creature. However, what did prove unexpected was how he didn't scurry away as we got close.

Okay. It stood to reason that the animals had grown accustomed to the tourists and weren't afraid of people. Still, I figured he would move eventually; being by the driver's door, I needed to go where he was.

When I was a couple steps from him, he did move. He charged me.

That's right: He didn't flee. He came at me.

I had what was the obvious reaction to being challenged by an animal five-feet shorter than me (when standing up on its hind legs): I jumped back and ran several steps away. I retained some dignity by virtue of not shrieking as I did this. (Not much dignity, admittedly.) He didn't pursue me once I retreated.

Some other people came back to their car nearby at this point. Rather than laughing at our predicament, they noted the squirrel had been similarly aggressive toward them when they got out of their car. They then quickly got into their car while snickering and drove away.

During that moment of our distraction, he scurried under our car. From where we stood we couldn't see whether he was still under there or had gone out the other side. We approached with trepidation, leaning down to try to see under the car. We didn't see him.

Then he emerged out from under the front of the car, and again we fled.

I tried stamping my foot, to see if the noise would frighten him away, at least long enough to allow us entry to the car. He was unfazed by the gesture.

At the point we exerted our superior intellect with this clever ploy: standing at a safe distance, doing nothing.

Eventually, I think he grew bored with us and went off to torment some other tourists. Still, we hurriedly got in the car and locked the doors right away, as though the squirrel could pull on the handle and get in. Even as we drove away we laughed nervously, convinced he would suddenly jump on the hood or spring up from the back seat.

We made no further stops along the route, and sped through Carmel in order to get back on Highway 1 as soon as possible.

It was quite the red-letter day for humanity, formerly the dominant species on the planet.


Facts you don't need to know but are nonetheless true: We took as many pictures of the incident with the squirrel as we did of the tree.

Xin Nien Kuai Le!

In honor of the Chinese (Lunar) New Year, I offer these shots from the trip I look to China back in October/November of 2003.

Starting with the obvious...

Part of the reconstructed Great Wall at Mutianyo (with a sepia filter applied).

Hidden behind the soft drink signs, the Jin Mao Tower in Shanghai.

Yours truly at the Temple of Heaven, Beijing.

One of my favorite shots: A cutey in pigtails in front of a lion statue at the Forbidden City, also Beijing.

And for those of you who didn't know me three years ago, the links below lead to the two albums I prepared from this trip which would give you an overview and explain a bit about why I was there:
Album #1, Album #2

Xie xie.