Moffat, CO, Nikon D7200 + 20mm f2.8

Labor Day '18, Colorado High

Gina Talley September 1, 2019

In the last 22 years, I have been to 40 Phish shows. While I have outgrown certain venues, I will make a special trip to see this band. Last Labor Day, I planned a trip to Colorado to see their Friday-night show at Dick’s Sporting Goods Park.

I flew in, made it to the show, and then went off on a Colorado road trip. I have visited Colorado several times. My first trip, at thirteen, took me to Pikes Peak, Garden of the Gods, and the Air Force Academy. Since then, I’ve been a few times: a travel-softball tournament, a cross-country road trip through the state, a friend visit in Vail, and a quite lucky trip to the Aspen Food & Wine Festival.

We chose a clockwise route, Denver to Great Sand Dunes National Park, Crestone to Aspen, Aspen to Evergreen, and back to Denver.

On the way to Great Sand Dunes, we had lunch with friends at Breckenridge Brewing in Littleton, drove through a very busy Garden of the Gods, and stopped in Salida to take pictures. Salida seemed very lovely at golden hour. I’d like to return. We were the only ones on the road to Crestone, at sunset. Crestone is one of the closest towns to Great Sand Dunes. The scenery was pretty classic Rocky Mountain High. In Crestone, we had dinner at Crestone Brewing Company. The town is very, very small and options are limited. But Crestone has great beer.

In the morning, we walked to the Crestone Ziggurat. The town, overall, has a pretty magical feel. The number of retreats, peace flags, and very unique homes we passed, was surprising. Crestone is a 3.5-hour drive from Denver. I loved how remote it felt.

After a cloudy trip to Great Sand Dunes, we drove to Aspen. I’ve been to Aspen, twice. It’s a weird, weird place: a fancy retreat, where I can feel the town/gown anxiety in the air. Quite apropos of Aspen, we found one of the most absurdly gorgeous Airbnbs I’ve ever stayed in – in a multi-million-dollar house. The very sweet host asked us if we “scuba” and proceeded to show us a well-cared for fish tank (what one would see at a certain depth) in our spa-like, lower-level of the house, Airbnb. We walked downtown for dinner and took a short hike up Smuggler Mountain.

Next, we drove to Breckenridge, on the way to Evergreen. I recall Leadville and the Pass, from one of my drives to Aspen. The pass was freezing, as I remembered, and Leadville was weird. Our reasons for stopping in Breckenridge were twofold: an alpine coaster and beer. Alpine coasters are gravity-driven metal coasters set on mountains with toboggan-like, single-person cars that allow the rider to control the speed. Breckenridge has a coaster and it’s was the few minutes of fun I hoped it would be. After the coaster we went to have beers at Broken Compass Brewing. Then, we drove to Evergreen and had dinner at a pretty local spot: Two Bears Tap and Grill.

In the morning, we drove up through the mountains, west of Boulder. We had wanted to go to a hand-carved carousel, in Nederland, but it was closed. We had coffee and beers in Boulder, at OZO coffee and BRU, respectively. Then, we drove back to the airport.

I enjoy Colorado. I could see myself living there. After a recent visit to Vermont, I think that Colorado, Vermont, and California (in no particular order) are my favorite states. Crestone has an energy that I’ve only felt in a few other places: Marfa, TX and Monument Valley, AZ/UT. There’s nothing terribly wrong with where I live, but I enjoy the idea of somewhere else. Someday.

Salida, CO, Nikon F3, Portra400

Moffat, CO, Nikon F3, Portra 400

Crestone, CO, Nikon F3, RolleiRetro400s

Crestone, CO, Nikon F3, Portra 400

Moffat, CO, Nikon D7200

Aspen, CO, Olympus Mju2, Kodak Gold 200

Moffat, CO, Nikon D7200 + 20mm f2.8

Olympus Mju2, Ektar 100

Icelandic Reprise

Gina Talley May 17, 2019

Iceland is a reasonable country for a week-long road trip. You can visit most of the island. However, you probably won’t be able to properly visit the West Fjords. The West Fjords are a peninsula that juts out of the northwest corner of Iceland. Three years ago, I went to Iceland and had to skip that 8,599 square miles. I went with my mother and we said we’d have to return to see the rest.

Last summer, we decided to make good on that notion. Our first trip was spectacular. Iceland is one of the most memorable trips that I’ve taken. It’s, by far, the most beautiful place that I have ever been. It has everything you’d want to see, nature-wise. I was happy to return. I knew the lay of the land, the airport, the rental car agency, the roads, the tolls, the cameras for speeding, and what to pack.

We flew into Keflavik (I learned, last time, that while you can select Reykjavik, you actually fly into an airport that is 45-minutes away from the capital). After a quick Icelandic Breakfast at Kaffivagninn, in Reykjavik, we stopped at a Bonus grocery store for provisions. Last trip, we did stay in a town, in the height of the summer-tourist season, that did not have an open store around dinner time. We bought snacks for emergencies.

Our first leg of the trip took us towards a spot that we had attempted to visit. The town of Drangsnes is on the southeastern edge of the West Fjords. Years ago, I had found the town on Instagram: photos of hotpots and a witchcraft museum. The roads were vastly improved from three years ago. The last time we tried to get to the town we had to go very slow (15-20 mph) to avoid potholes. This time, the roads seemed fine, and after a five-hour drive, we were at our Airbnb. After a jet-lag nap, we ventured out for dinner in Hólmavík, at Café Riis. This restaurant was recommended in the The New York Times for its pizza, but I have to say, the pizza looked terrible. I learned that ordering the “seafood soup” is the way to go in the West Fjords. I ordered the seafood soup for three-straight nights. Each soup was bit different: a little more or less sherry, or fennel, or leek. But, all of them were satisfying.

We drove back to our Airbnb and I walked around the tiny town to take pictures. Our last visit was in July; there was no darkness. This time, in mid-August, there was some night and the sun did slowly set. I tried to find the best time to take pictures. For most of the day, the overhead sun is so bright and the land is shadowless.

From Drangsnes we drove counterclockwise to Ísafjörður. We never had more than four hours to drive in a day, but with stops, you end up driving most of the day and taking your time. I had a student who spent part of a semester in the town of Ísafjörður. I emailed her for recommendations. The town is rather large for Iceland, but still small (population 2600). We walked around the docks and I took pictures. We went to dinner at a busy restaurant; we grabbed the last table at Húsið. The next morning we bought pastries at Gamla Bakaríið.

The highlight of the next day was visiting a waterfall that I had wanted to see the last time: Dynjandi. You can see the waterfall from at least five-miles away, as you drive the only road to the scenic spot. The rest of Iceland is full of waterfalls; seriously, there is a waterfall at every turn. But they are rarer in the West Fjords. Dynjandi, which translates as “thunderous,” requires a bit of a climb. The water cascades over the ledge and spreads out, pools, and then continues again down the mountain. It was windy, overcast, and cloudy while we were there, but the waterfall was still magic.

We continued along the coast to our next stop: Patreksfjörður. We checked into a guest house and then backtracked to Tálknafjörður for dinner at Cafe Dunhagi. Again, the seafood soup was excellent.

The next day we drove along some of the crazier dirt roads to Rauðisandur Beach. You never quite know what the road conditions will be or whether or not you’re on a secondary road. The unpaved drive to Rauðisandur was variously muddy and a very steep grade. We backtracked to the main road to drive to our guest house in Saurbær. We had dinner at Veiðistadurinn, in Búðardalur.

The next day we drove back to the capital and checked into our Airbnb. I wanted to spend the last night in Reykjavik. As we learned on the last trip, you don’t need more than a night or two to explore the capital. We had lunch, wandered around an indoor market, had coffee at Reykjavik Roasters, bought delicious pastries at Braud & Co, and enjoyed ice cream at Valdis. The next day, before our flight, we went to two of the three Reykjavik Art Museums: Kjarvalsstaðir and Ásmundarsafn. Each one is dedicated to an Icelandic artist. Before our trip to the airport, we stopped at my favorite bakery from the last trip: Sandholt.

This second trip to Iceland was more laid back. I often feel like I have to “see everything” and will fill an itinerary with too much to do. This time I didn’t plan things to do. There are sights to see, but it’s an ever-changing landscape; no scene is better than the next, only different.

Pentax67, Portra400

Ísafjörður, Nikon F3, RolleiRetro400S

Saurbær, Nikon F3, Provia100F

Drangsnes, Olympus Mju2, Ektar 100

Dynjandi, Pentax67, Rollei CR200 (edited to B&W)

Ísafjörður, Olympus Mju2, KodakGold400

Edinburgh, Nikon F3, Cinestill800T

Memorial Day Weekend in Dublin & Edinburgh

Gina Talley January 10, 2019

I will go somewhere for a deal. I have a list of places I’d like to visit; these are places that require a varying amount of days/money. One city I have wanted to visit, for many years, is Edinburgh. Flights to Edinburgh are always expensive. Always. Flights to Dublin are not expensive. Further, flights on Norwegian Air, from New York Stewart (Newburgh, NY) are even cheaper.

Thus, for a Memorial Day Weekend trip, we drove to Newburgh, NY, flew to Dublin, spent two nights in Dublin, flew to Edinburgh via Ryan Air (cheap), spent two nights in Edinburgh, and flew back to Dublin for one night. My planning knows no bounds. I will research trips and airports and routes and options until I find the best deal. This was the cheapest way to visit Edinburgh, from Philadelphia, for Memorial Day Weekend.

Dublin, on the other hand, I had considered visiting a few times. I had thought about a solo trip in the past few years. My good friend had spent weeks there and visited many times. This seemed like a good, cheap trip. But, overall, I was never dying to go to Dublin.

After a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Newburgh, and an overnight flight to Dublin, we arrived early in the morning. The airport bus was easy transportation to downtown and we found a place to stow our luggage.

Dublin looked exactly as I imagined: grey, squat blocks of houses, and a smaller-touristy downtown. There was also a very drunk late-night scene. We took the tour at Guinness and Jameson. We had coffee at Coffee Angel. I ate fish and chips twice, at bars with various, similar names. We had excellent Asian food at Neon Asian Street Food; a highlight is the self-serve, soft-serve machine.

After two nights in Dublin and visiting with friends from England and the US, we took an early-morning bus to the airport and a rather easy Ryanair flight to Edinburgh. Sleep-deprived, we dragged ourselves around the center of Edinburgh. We drank coffee and had excellent bacon sandwiches at Cairngorn Coffee. We checked into our AirBnb as soon as we could and took a very long nap. After a few hours, we went out for more wanderings and Indian food for dinner.

The next day we took a tour of the underground, had coffee at Brew Lab, enjoyed a Sunday Roast at The OX, cocktails at The Devil’s Advocate, and went to a comedy show at The Stand. We left the next afternoon to return to Dublin.

Our return to Dublin yielded a rare sunny afternoon. We meandered to St. Stephen’s Green and I saw flashes of Washington Square Park. In the light, I could see why the city was quaint or likable. We were there for an historic vote: a referendum passed to repeal the country’s ban on abortion. The city was plastered with signs, both for and against the repeal. We were there as results came in, the following day: the repeal passed 66.4% to 33.6%.[1]

Overall, I feel reluctant to compare the two cities. Edinburgh has old-town charm and foggy mystery: Dublin has grit and reality. In the future, I’d like to return to Scotland to see the rest of the country by car; last week, I was in Dublin for a day. I’ll save my thoughts on this return visit for a later date. In the end, the trip was worth all the plotting and planning.

[1] https://www.cnn.com/2018/09/19/europe/ireland-abortion-repeal-intl/index.html

Dublin, Fish and Chips #1, iPhone 7

Dublin, Fish and Chips #2, iPhone 7

Dublin, Something with Ham, A Pub, iPhone 7

Dublin, Soft-Serve, Neon Asian Street Food, iPhone 7

Edinburgh, Brew Lab, iPhone 7

Edinburgh, Sunday Roast, The OX, iPhone 7

Edinburgh, Bacon Sandwich, Cairngorn Coffee, iPhone 7

Edinburgh, Nikon F3, JCH Streetpan 400

Dublin, Nikon F3, JCH Streetpan 400

Edinburgh, Olympus Mju2, Kodak Gold 400

Dublin, Nikon F3, Svema125

Valencia, Nikon D3300

Spring Break in Spain

Gina Talley August 6, 2018

In March, I went to Spain for spring break. When you’ve chosen a career that allows you to have a “spring break,” you still have the privilege of going “on spring break.” While I’m not venturing to Cancún or enduring a cruise, like a decent percentage of my students, I did go to three cities in Spain.

I had never planned to go to Spain. I have a list of countries that I’d like to visit. Spain has never been on the list. I can’t entirely explain it. I figured that I’d make a stop in Spain, but never make it the destination.

Yet, I had the opportunity to visit a kindred sprit in Valencia. My friend was working at an elementary school, as an English-language teaching assistant, for a half the year. In my planning, I chose to start with a weekend in Barcelona, spend most of the work week in Valencia, and finish with a weekend in Madrid.

I flew to Barcelona and my friend took the train up from Valencia to meet me. We made two official Gaudí stops: an early morning at Park Güell and a tour of Casa Milà. I recommend arriving at Park Güell as early as possible, as it quickly became overrun and maddeningly crowded. Later, we walked by La Sagrada Família; everyone has told me I should have properly visited the church. Following an afternoon break, we went out for tapas and late-night churros.

The next day my friend and I went to the tiny Picasso Museum (free on Sundays) and took the train to Valencia. Overall, Barcelona is alive; the Gothic Quarter is very much like the meandering and disorienting alleyways of Venice. I know I have more to see and experience there, but at least I understand the city’s appeal: enormous palm trees, the sparkling sea within view, and a vibrant, if transient late-night life.

With four days in Valencia, I spent my daylight hours walking around the city. I traversed the city and walked miles upon miles. The sunny, 70-degree weather was an opportune break from a Philadelphia winter. I strolled and took pictures. I woke up early one morning to shoot large-format pictures of the main square. I receive looks of curiosity when I walk around with my large format camera on a tripod. Often, I see acknowledgement of the form, in the eyes of older individuals; this was also the case in Spain.

In my Valencia wanderings, I went to the modern art museum (IVAM), walked through the sunken Turia River Park, and, twice, shuffled through the City of Arts and Sciences, at the southeast end of the park. The City of Arts and Sciences is comprised of several buildings, designed by Santiago Calatrava and Félix Candela. The first building, L'Hemisfèric, a planetarium, IMAX theater, and laserium, was completed in 1998. Several other buildings were added to the complex over the next ten years. I was mesmerized by the futuristic feel of the buildings: Star Trek come to life. The structures are well kept and clean. Hailing from a city with limited park integration, despite William Penn’s best efforts, I found it freeing to wander a park very near the city center.

I happened to visit Valencia during the preparations for Falles. This annual festival, held in March, features fireworks, streets strung with Christmas lights à la South Philly, costumes, the construction and burning of giant-wooden structures, and, perhaps most importantly (for me), churros stands on every corner. Indeed, I ate many churros and learned that “relleno” (previously, I thought this meant something about peppers), translates as “stuffed,” and that you can find churros rellenos (churros stuffed with a thick cream or chocolate). These churros are similar to a cream-filled donut, but with much more sugar and a crisp shell. I ate so many churros that I will not eat them again for a while.

Overall, I appreciated the authenticity and lack of touristiness in Valencia. I struggle with being a tourist. I’ll avoid a David Foster Wallace detour on being a tourist; I’ll jam the thoughts that I often reference to friends, on postcards, in a footnote.[1] I’m glad that I spent four days wandering the streets. While going to bars and restaurants was easy with a Spanish-speaking friend, there was a familiarity that went beyond language. Valencia felt like Philadelphia: a city easily passed over and underrated, but with a real-life character to it.

Next, I went to Madrid on the high-speed train, alone for a night. I spent an afternoon/evening walking around in the rain and passed through the International Women’s Day March. The following day, before my friend arrived, I went to the Prado Museum and Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum. The Prado isn’t my style (old masters), but I had to go. The collection is overwhelming and the building is beautiful. I enjoyed the Thyssen much more, given the 20th-century collection and a video installation by an artist I found at Art Basel, last summer: John Akomfrah. I spent more than an hour watching the entire length of his six-screen installation, “Purple,” in the museum’s basement. I was alone for most of the time, as it wasn’t entirely clear where to find his video installation. Later, still in the rain, I went to the Plaza Mayor for a calamari sandwich (bocadillo de calamares): fried calamari on long, thick, French bread. I understand why this sandwich is good; I like cities with a signature sandwich. But, I also wanted to add aioli.

The next day, when my friend arrived, we went to the requisite, crowded, touristy-but-worth-it, La Mallorquina bakery/pastry shop. The chocolate napolitana de crema (chocolate croissant) was amazing. Fueled only by chocolate and (weak) Spanish coffee, we walked to the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía. Their collection is endless and worth visiting. We stopped for afternoon tapas at Cervecería Alemana; it was a Hemingway haunt. Late in the evening we went out for dinner at Restaurante Casa Salvador. A step back in time, the restaurant is adorned with bull-fighting memorabilia. Oddly enough, I had sent my friend from Philly to this restaurant, last September. I had never been to Spain, but she asked for restaurant recommendations (research of the food kind, or any kind, is my specialty). My friend and her family enjoyed the restaurant and so did I.

The next morning, I woke up at 3:30 to take a cheap bus to the airport. Overall, I had an adventurous spring break. I ended up at an open-mic night, at a university bar, in Valencia. I ate sardines, olives, cheese, and churros with abandon. I saw modern art and architecture. I found Spain distinctly different than other places in Europe. That sounds (and is) obvious, but as a newer traveler, it’s exciting to feel the variances between countries. The diverse foods. The conflicting degrees of what “on time” may mean. The alleged reliably of trains. The indigenous flowers and trees. The way the afternoon light strikes the sidewalks and buildings. The alleyways and graffiti.

Many thanks to my friend for the invitation, as I went somewhere that may have taken me several more years to visit. None of these experiences would have been possible without her encouragement to make a spring-break visit.

____________________________

David Foster Wallace, Consider the Lobster: And Other Essays (New York: Little, Brown and Company), 2005, p. 156: “To be a mass tourist, for me, is to become a pure late-date American: alien, ignorant, greedy for something you cannot ever have, disappointed in a way you can never admit. It is to spoil, by way of sheer ontology, the very unspoiledness you are there to experience. It is to impose yourself on places that in all non-economic ways would be better, realer, without you. It is, in lines and gridlock and transaction after transaction, to confront a dimension of yourself that is as inescapable as it is painful: As a tourist, you become economically significant but existentially loathsome, an insect on a dead thing.”

Valencia, Nikon D3300

Barcelona, Nikon F3, JCH Streetpan 400

Barcelona, Nikon F3, JCH Streepan 400

La Pallaresa Xocolateria Xurreria, Barcelona, iphone 7

Cafe de l'Opera, Barcelona, iPhone 7

La Pallaresa Xocolateria Xurreria, Barcelona, iphone 7

Barcelona Market, iPhone 7

Bar del Pi, Barcelona, iPhone 7

Valencia Market, iPhone 7

Valencia, iPhone 7

Valencia Market, iPhone 7

Valencia, iPhone 7

La Mallorquina, Madrid, iPhone 7

Restaurante Casa Salvador, Madrid, iPhone 7

Bar La Campana, Madrid, iPhone 7

El Cisne Azul, Madrid, iPhone 7

Cervecería Alemana, Madrid, iPhone 7

Barcelona, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

Barcelona, Nikon F3, JCH Street Pan 400

City of Arts and Sciences, L'Hemisfèric, Valencia, Nikon F3, Ektar 100

City of Arts and Sciences, Valencia, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

Turia River Park, Valencia, Nikon F3, Cinestill 50D

City of Arts and Sciences, Valencia, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

City of Arts and Sciences, L'Umbracle, Valencia, Nikon F3, Cinestill 50D

City of Arts and Sciences, El Palau de les Arts Reina Sofía, Valencia, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

City of Arts and Sciences, L'Hemisfèric, Valencia, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

City of Arts and Sciences, L'Umbracle, Valencia, Nikon F3, Rollei Retro 400S

Valencia, Nikon F3, Cinestill 800T

Valencia, Nikon F3, Cinestill 50D

The New Femme Fermental

Gina Talley July 18, 2018

Finally, I have abandoned Blogger. I started a food blog in 2008. At the time, Blogger was the best option. Since then, Blogger has become the worst option. The Google service looks terrible on a phone. The platform makes it very difficult to integrate photos and text. It’s an aesthetic nightmare. The list goes on.

The shift to a new site makes sense for several reasons. Over the years, the focus of my blog has changed. While I do write about food, I more often write about my travels. Further, I’ve begun to take photos, both film and digital. As such, I need a place to share images (without words). The old Blogger site will remain in existence: an archive. But, all new posts will be on this, visually, more appealing website.

I’ll update the main, photo-based page on a regular basis. I’m not certain that Instagram will exist forever, or much longer (@femmefermental). While Instagram has a vaguely photographic purpose, I foresee the day when I no longer open the app. A 21st-century website seems much more stable and enduring: a spot for the next ten years, or more, of The Femme Fermental.