Hawaii, So Long Ago

Back in the "before times," back in the "before so many things happened" times, I went to Hawaii. Also, I'm certain I wrote this blog post once before and lost it.

In October 2019, I went to Hawaii for the second time. I had been there before, in 2002. My dad and I went to Maui on a high school graduation trip. He went for work, so I joined, missed a week of school in January, and slept through most of the trip in a very teenage fashion. I don't remember the flights; I'm sure I slept. I remember sleeping in until 11:30; I don't recall the afternoons. I remember nice dinners, sunsets, and fresh fish. But that is about it. So, I was happy to return and remember what happened.

On this trip, the purpose was to visit a few islands, since the idea of relaxing on one island wasn't appealing, and make the most of the time spent so far away. We managed to visit three islands: Oahu, Moloka'i, and Maui. We planned four days on Oahu, four days on Moloka'i, and five days on Maui.

We landed very late and stayed in Honolulu the first night. Jet-lagged, we ventured to Waikiki Brewing. The next day we drove to the island's western side to stay in a yurt with an outdoor shower/bathroom. I wanted to get out of the more touristy areas, so we stayed in Waialua. We took a hike along Ka'ena Point Trail and passed no one. We drove the North Shore and stopped at Giovanni's Shrimp Truck. We had a fantastic sushi dinner at Banzai Sushi Bar. And there was a rainy, sleepless night of jumping cockroaches in the yurt. But I wouldn't change the yurt part. The next day, we drove along the North Shore to stay one night in Hailua. On the way, we stopped at the Valley of the Temples Park.

The next day, we took a small, tiny plane to Moloka'i. The whole thing was unlike any other plane experience I've ever had; there was barely any security, the terminal was outdoors, and you could see everything. I did extensive research on the safety record of the airline. They advertise having two pilots and that they are always within the distance of being able to glide to a landing. I decided to trust that information.

After a short flight, we landed in Moloka'i: Population 7500. The car rental "agency" told us which car (a 2001 Chevy Tracker), where to find it, and that the keys would be underneath the mat. The car started, and kind of made it up hills. Since there are limited food options on the island, our first stop was a grocery store before venturing to the Airbnb. We chose the island since most people don't visit it; the majority of the island is abandoned or uninhabited. The Airbnb was one of the few places to stay: a timeshare community amongst other abandoned and falling apart portions of the resort. The feel, complete with turkey vultures, was eerie, but we went there to take a break from the touristy bookends of the trip.

During the days, we explored the island and abandoned sites. The most beautiful part was a drive to Halawa Park, on the island's east side. Most of the population lives on the west side, so this venture was a bit off-road and deserted. It is a much better and less crowded "Road to Hana." One day we hiked to an abandoned glamping resort. Otherwise, there was little to do. On the last day, we stopped at the Moloka'i Museum and Cultural Center.

After the flight to Maui, we stopped in Paia at the Paia Fish Market for the best meal of the trip. It was so good we stopped again before our flight home. The first night we stayed in a home in the Upcountry area. The purpose was to see the sunrise at Haleakalā National Park; I had chosen the Airbnb because it was about as close as possible to the National Park entrance. I booked the sunrise entrance tickets two months to the day, since tickets sell out. After the trip, I made friends with the Airbnb owner. I had done some "research" on her and found that she was a musician from the 1960s. When we returned, I bought her album on vinyl, and we emailed for a few months. To get to sunrise over the volcano, we woke up at least two hours before dawn and drove less than an hour to the entrance. Our host loaned us jackets, gloves, blankets, and thermoses for coffee in the morning. We arrived early, staked out a front-row spot, and waited.

After sunrise, we did the thing that is entirely not recommended by any travel websites about Maui: see the sunrise on Haleakalā and drive to Hana. But I couldn't figure out a way to avoid it. On my first visit to Maui, my dad and I drove the Road to Hana. All I knew from that experience was that I didn't want to venture out and back on the same day. So, we planned a night in Hana. On the way, we stopped at the Garden of Eden, a food truck spot for shrimp and tacos, Keane Lookout, Waianapanapa State Park, and only encountered tons of traffic towards the very end. We tried to drive past Hana, but the road became more precarious and stressful and not worth it at that time of day. Back in Hana, we went to the only nice restaurant in town. The "hostel"/Airbnb was something (read: lots of ants), but options are limited in Hana.

The following day, we drove to an Airbnb in Lahaina. Our plans were limited there. We went ziplining, found Kalua Pork, Loco Moco, went to Kohola Brewery, a Vodka distillery, and Maui Winery. We rode bikes to Lahaina and watched the sunset from different beaches.

The goals were to take photos and explore. Ultimately, we did those things while trying to be less of a tourist. Next time, hopefully, I'll visit the big island and Kauai.

Louisville & Nashville Roadtrip, No. 2

For work purposes, I returned to Louisville, KY, in June 2019. I'd been three times before, but it had been two years since my last trip. I was excited to return to this lovely, underrated small city. In short, Louisville has endless character and bourbon. 

As I did in 2015, I decided to make this venture a road trip. So, I drove eleven hours from Philly to Louisville. Making the trip even longer, I set out early to explore portions Blue Ridge Parkway: a part of Virginia I had never seen. I jumped on the parkway in Front Royal and spent a few hours taking photos before heading west. With many hours left to drive, I made a few stops in West Virginia to break up the trip: antique stores and the Blenko Glass Factory in Milton, WV.

Louisville has grown up since I first visited in 2014. The NuLu area is much more developed. There's a new pocket of restaurants in Butchertown. And the Highlands is even busier than it was years ago. There's still not much downtown, but I did find a good coffee shop: Sunergos Coffee. I stayed very low-key during my work week; I went to yoga and took a few photos. 

After my last day of work, I carried out a rather strange plan to drive four hours, and one time zone, west to St. Louis to go to a Phish concert by myself. I've been to a few shows alone, and I enjoy it. I had a ticket for a rearview seat, but I didn't care. It was my 40th show in 22 years. I dropped my luggage and cameras at my hotel and took an Uber to the show. The city had great energy, as their hockey team was in the Stanley Cup Finals. The crowd and the show were fantastic.

The following day, after grabbing pastries at Nathaniel Reid Bakery, I picked up my partner in crime at the airport and set out for a quick food-based exploration of St. Louis. We started with barbecue at Pappy's Smokehouse and custard at Ted Drews. Then, we did our best with brief stops for photos at the Jewel Box (a gorgeous greenhouse constructed in 1936, in Forest Park) and the Arch. Next, we ordered take-out pizza at an Imo's location. Imo's is a regional "pizza" style that is hard to describe as pizza: the crust is cracker-thin, and Provel (a combination of cheddar, swiss, and provolone) cheese is the highlight. It was like a variation on Dominos; I didn't hate it, but I'd only eat it if there were no other options for pizza. (sorry, St. Louis).

Next, we returned to Louisville for two nights. On our way east, we stopped at an 1800s utopian community in New Harmony, Indiana. I've had an obsession with utopian communities for a very long time. After teaching about New Harmony for years, I was excited to see the actual town. The community was short-lived (1825-1827), but the site has been preserved and, seemingly, become a spot for modern art/architecture. There's a Philip Johnson "Roofless Church" (1960) and a Richard Meier building, the "Athenum" (1979). While the visitor center was closed, we walked around the small town and took photos. Ominously overcast, the feeling was odd. 

Back in Louisville, we returned my favorite spots: Holy Grale beer bar, Rye (now permanently closed), and Butchertown Grocery. In between bourbon tours at Buffalo Trace, Willet, and Woodford Reserve, we stopped in Lexington for a Kentucky Hot Brown sandwich. 

Following the same path as my road trip six years ago, our next stop was Nashville. On the drive to Nashville, we stopped at the Kentucky Stonehenge (Munfordville, KY) and the Historic Wigwam Motel. Village no. 2 (Cave City, KY). These Wigwam Motels are classic 1930s/40s Americana. There were seven locations in the hotel chain, but only three have avoided demolition. While I have visited the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, AZ, I still need to see Village no. 7 in Rialto, CA. 

In Nashville, we started with Hattie B's fried chicken. I went to Prince's the last time, and their original location was closed due to a fire. We revisited a lovely coffee shop, Barista Parlour, and checked into our Airbnb in East Nashville. With Bird scooters everywhere, we could easily walk to bars and scoot back home. We visited Mas Tacos Por Favore, Attaboy cocktail bar, and The Pharmacy. A dinner at Folk was especially memorable; since it's been more than a year since my last meal inside a restaurant, I think fondly of these special indoor meals.

The next stop was Asheville. On the way, we visited the World's Fair Park in Knoxville, TN. With only a quick one-night stop in Asheville, we focused on breweries: Thirsty Monk, Burial Beer Co., and Wicked Weed Brewing. The following day, we woke up early to drive the nine hours home. Our only stop was a Waffle House somewhere in Virginia.

In all, this was an excellent road trip. I can't wait for the next one: hopefully this summer.

CA Central Coast

I've always joked that historians should pick research subjects based upon a well-located archive. For the first time, I had a desirable place to go for a week of research: San Luis Obispo (SLO). I've been to various parts of California, but never the Central Coast. The closest I've been was a road trip through the region, seventeen years ago. In May 2019, I flew to San Luis Obispo and stayed for the workweek; then, I spent the weekend in Cambria, not far up the coast.

I arrived on a quiet, sunny Sunday afternoon. With some time before check-in, I decided to take a drive to Carrizo Plain National Monument; there had been a superbloom a few months earlier. I knew the flowers had passed, but the desolate drive through rolling hills and farms to a dry lake was the perfect way to move from the east coast to the vast expanses of the west coast. I stopped for photos, the only car for miles. While observations about space and time are somewhat overwrought, I'm always struck by how much distance one can travel in a day. To wake up in Philly and end up in the middle of California before sunset; I miss that feeling of escape and possibility.

Monday through Friday, I went to the library at Cal Poly to research Julia Morgan. She was California's first licensed female architect, best known for the design of Hearst Castle. My Airbnb was within walking distance of downtown SLO. As I do wherever I go, I found a coffee shop to walk to in the morning and a yoga studio for after the workday. With the sun setting later, I took photos at various spots up and down the coast during the golden hour. The town is quaint but modern: a completely temperate and livable locale.

After a week of research, I drove about 45 minutes up the coast to Cambria. I had planned to stay for the weekend to visit Hearst Castle on Saturday. While I stopped at Hearst Castle on the aforementioned road trip, all the tours were booked, so we kept driving north. This time, I planned far in advance. Cambria is a small town off Route 1. I found an Airbnb above a garage, in a hilly neighborhood, with a deck. I graded final exams, practiced yoga, walked the beach, and relaxed for the first time in months.

One sunset by the ocean, I had a friendly photo interaction with a man who saw me with my 4x5 camera. Quite respectfully, we didn't chat until after the sun dipped below the horizon. He was in town on a car club trip, and he gave me his card: "Let me know if anything comes out." A year and many emails later, a photo of that sunset is hanging on the wall in his San Diego home. He also sent me his father's camera and lenses: a Voigtlander Prominent rangefinder. While I may not seem terribly inviting of conversation, a large-format camera always opens up the possibility of an interesting interaction.

On Saturday, I drove up to Hearst Castle. I took a tour of the interiors. Afterward, you can stay as long as you like on the grounds. I spent a few hours taking photos right in the middle of the day. Some of my photos are near shadowless. It was quite exciting to tour the site designed by the women whose papers and files I had spent a week reading.

I didn't have anything planned for Sunday. I left myself time to grade final exams, but I had finished them throughout the week. After submitting final grades, I decided to drive two and a half hours up to Big Sur. I remembered it from the previous road trip, but I wanted to take my own drive. I didn't drive a mile on that trip (at nineteen with an ex-boyfriend), so I was retracing steps and rewriting the story. I stopped at Big Sur Taphouse for lunch and beers. On the way back, I took my time and stopped at pull-offs; this is much easier on the southbound trip. After hours of driving, I took a quick rest but went back out to photography my last sunset on the west coast.

The next day, I stopped at Libertine Brewing Company for lunch in Morro Bay and the Madonna Inn (a recommendation from a photographer whose work I admire) on the way to the SLO airport. The Madonna Inn is a famous, kitschy place. I had coffee and carrot cake and marveled at the step back in time. Next time, I'll spend a night there. Indeed, at this point in 2020, I can't wait for any kind "next time."

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Arizona Revisit

Monument Valley is an indescribable place. As soon as I saw the red-sandstone rock formations appear out of nowhere, I knew I wanted to return. A few times in my life, I have visited a place and felt an immediate, inexplicable connection. This perception may be a side effect of my profession; I can imagine a place in the past: the landscapes, the attire, the architecture, or lack thereof. I tell my students that I have difficulty watching period pieces or reading historical fiction because I know what's inaccurate. But, perhaps this knowledge of the past helps me connect to a place.

I first visited Monument Valley in January 2018 on a road trip through the southwest. One sunset and one sunrise were not enough. When a yoga training took me to Tucson for Spring Break, I knew I wanted to return to this enchanting space. But, to visit such a faraway location requires planning.

After taking the earliest flight, amid a snowstorm, from Philly to Phoenix, we rented a car and began the five-hour drive north to the remote Arizona/Utah border. Given that it was late February, I knew that we were cutting it close on arriving by sunset. With no stops after a quick breakfast in Phoenix, we caught golden hour on the buttes. We pulled over on RT 163, approaching the town. The sunset was clear, and the color palette was unique to the desert.

In the Navajo Nation Reservation, there aren't many places to stay. Last time we booked a solar-powered tiny home. This time we stayed in a traditional Navajo Hogan without electricity or running water. A Hogan is an eight-sided, one-room structure, constructed of logs and then covered with mud for insulation. There's a hole in the top of the dome for the stovepipe's chimney, and the one door faces the sunrise. The Navajo woman who owns the property met us upon arrival; she already had the woodstove roaring.

At sunrise, we took a quick drive to the iconic south-facing highway view of the monuments; it's the one everyone knows from films. But the morning was cloudy and grey. We went back to the Hogan, and the lovely owner cooked us traditional frybread (a deep-fried dough bread) for breakfast. Next, we drove to the Navajo Nation's Monument Valley Tribal Park: a 17-mile scenic, dirt-road drive through the formations. On our last trip, we didn't have time for the four-hour drive. The park wasn't crowded at all, so we took our time and hoped that the clouds would burn off.

After several hours in the park, we drove south to Flagstaff. As a part of another revisit, we stayed two nights in the snowy, hippie, mountain town. I choose an Airbnb that was downtown and easy walking distance to breweries and restaurants. The weather forecast wasn't promising; it poured on our only full day in town. But, we managed a clear-enough sunrise at the Lowell Observatory that overlooks the town, and a foggy, imperceptible sunset at the Arizona Snowbowl Ski Resort.

On the way back to Phoenix, we stopped at Arcosanti. I've visited twice before, but I can't seem to resist this architectural, mysterious oasis in the desert. The last time we stayed overnight in one of their Airbnbs. I would have booked it again, but there was no availability. Instead, we made a quick stop for photos. Next, in Phoenix, we stopped at Cosanti Originals, a gallery and store for Paolo Soleri designs, as well as James Turrell's Skyspace, "Air Apparent," on ASU's campus. Visiting Turrell's work at sunrise or sunset is always best. The light progression is more interesting when the sky changes color too. We made it for sunset and had the whole structure to ourselves. Next, for dinner, we had pizza at one of my favorite pizza places in the US: Pizzeria Bianco.

The next morning, I drove from Phoenix to Tucson for a week of yoga training. I hadn't been to Tucson before, but I had a feeling it would be my style. Mountains surround the city, and the grid felt familiar. Every morning I woke up early to drive around at sunrise. I'd travel from east to west, with the sun behind me and pull over wherever to take photos. There were more cloudy mornings than not, but I didn't care. It's always a gift to have the freedom and time to take photos in new places. Once the golden hour was over, I'd stop at Cartel Coffee Lab to do work before the yoga day began.

On the last day, I stopped at a Blake's Lotaburger (a southwest only, fast-food chain with excellent green-chili burgers), DeGrazia Gallery in the Sun, a cactus nursery, lingered in thrift stores, and drove through Saguaro National Park during an overcast sunset. After the drive back to Phoenix, I stopped at Pizzeria Bianco for another pizza. I have an odd propensity to grab an excessive meal before a flight. I can talk myself into "one more" anything if I'm far from home. At this point, when the idea of a restaurant seems so far away, I'm certainly glad I did. Visits and revisits alike are luxuries.

Pentax67, Acros100 / Mayer, AZ

Crown Graphic 4x5, Portra400 / Mexican Hat, UT

Olympus Mju2, Kodak Gold 400 / Tucson, AZ

London and Sicily (and Dublin Redux)

This wasn't an ordinary holiday vacation. In 2018, we cobbled together an itinerary of three days in England, six in Sicily, one more in England, and one in Dublin. The day in Dublin was a product of a cheap flight from Newburgh, NY to Dublin. We'd taken this inexpensive Norwegian Air flight before; it's a bit of a drive to Newburgh, but the airport is accessible, and the price is right. The trip was built around getting to Dublin and then going elsewhere. I was eager to revisit England. From there, Ryan Air has low-cost flights to Sicily. On the way back, we visited a friend in Cambridge and spent one day/night in Dublin. While I didn't mind booking separate flights on the route over, I didn't want to risk missing the flight back to the US, so we stayed one night in Dublin. It felt about as crazy as it sounds.

In December, the three days in London were what one might expect: dark, damp, and gray, but not unpleasant. When we arrived, I was under the weather. Combined with the jetlag, it was difficult to do anything on the first day. The next day we went to Borough Market for random food bites. Then we took the tube to the ArcelorMittal Orbit, designed by Anish Kapoor, for the 2012 Summer Olympics. The rather unattractive structure is an observation tower; the world's tallest and longest tube slide was added to the structure in 2016. If you haven't been on a tube slide, I do recommend it, but it's not for the faint of heart. Next, we went to the Tate Modern, which happened to be free (and crowded) that day. I love the Turbine Hall and terraces. After the museum, we headed to a dinner reservation I had booked in advance. I've been quite lucky to eat at many fancy restaurants. There are only a few that I strive to return to; I had been to St. John on my first visit to England. The white-tablecloth restaurant didn't disappoint upon the revisit: cured beef and celeriac, Welsh rarebit, bone marrow, roast middle white, Eccles cake, and Lancashire cheese. The middle white was everything I remembered. After dinner, we wandered to Brew Dog Café. 

The second full day was overcast, so we focused on fish and chips and pub hopping. The conditions weren't conducive to photography, so we enjoyed beers, walked through a maddeningly crowded Piccadilly Circus, and crossed bridges. We saw the sun for about five minutes as we took photos on the Tower Bridge.

The next day we went out for a proper Sunday Roast. I had been to Hawksmoor in Manchester, on my last visit, so I trusted their location in London. The roast, with all the trimmings, was the experience that I can't find in the US. We added on smoked salmon and crab toast and finished with sticky toffee pudding. I developed an obsession with sticky toffee on my last visit. Again, a dish that isn't quite the same at home. After brunch, we walked through a dreary Covent Garden to the Abbey Road. From there, we took the train to Stansted to fly to Palermo. 

Our arrival in Sicily was around 11:15 PM. Immigration and customs took about an hour. With the issues of Brexit and immigration difficulties around the world, it's never quite clear, within the EU, when you'll need to go through immigration again. I hadn't thought that we'd have to in Sicily, but we did. We also went through a very long line in Stansted when we returned; this involved the most intense round of questioning I've ever had at a border. 

Back to Palermo, in the pouring rain, at midnight: we planned an Airbnb within a mile walk of the airport. Without much communication, we simply hoped we'd be able to make it into the complicated, gated Airbnb. We decided to walk in that direction and wish for the best. Ten minutes into the walk, a car stopped in the road, opened the door, and I, in Italian (I studied Italian in high school and college), with my Philadelphia-sense of danger, told them, "No, thank you!" But, I heard a little more and realized that they were our Airbnb host. Luckily, they had decided to drive to the airport to find us, because of the rain. Without their help, I'm not sure we could have made it into the gated area, with about five locks and fences. That incident made me question my decision to save a little bit of money, on a cheaper flight, and arrive in the dark. Lesson learned. 

The next morning, we walked back to the airport to rent a car. I read a bunch about driving in Sicily on Reddit. It really is the most insane driving I've ever seen. The rental car was also the most damaged rental car I've seen. The only rule is to keep moving. Trust that everyone else will stop. It takes two people to drive—one person to direct with google maps (and endless roundabouts) and one to drive. 

We picked up the car and drove, on New Year's Eve, to Cefalù. I had booked Airbnbs around the island to be able to see most of the sights. But, Mt. Etna had erupted the week before, so we skipped Catania. I couldn't find up-to-date info about conditions in Catania, so I canceled and picked another location. In Cefalù, we discovered a place to park (somewhat of an issue, but every small town seems to have a parking lot near the edge of the city) and walked to the ocean. The sun was bright, and the town had a quiet, relaxed, holiday feel to it. We took photos and had a delightful lunch of pizza and pasta before we drove to our Airbnb. Perched high upon a cliff, overlooking the north coast of the island, we made a fire and listened to the wind all night long.

Next, we drove southeast to Syracuse. We briefly navigated around the town, but couldn't find anywhere to park. Not much was open on New Year's Day, anyway. Honestly, it didn't seem safe to leave the car, even when we thought we had found parking. I read quite a bit about not leaving anything in the car. Since we were moving from place to place, we had everything with us; it wasn’t worth taking a chance. Instead of stopping in town, we went to our Agriturismo. For a long time, I've wanted to stay at one of these places: a farm with a few rooms and a menu of whatever the family is serving. We arrived in the afternoon, during a large family celebration, being held in the main hall. The host's college-age son, who spoke English, greeted us and brought us cake, home-made liquor, and coffee in the courtyard. After, he gave us a tour of the farm. We had dinner that night, as the only guests in the main hall. It was far too much food for us, but very Sicilian. In the morning, we stopped in for a sweet breakfast and went on our way. 

The next night was at an Airbnb with over a hundred positive reviews about the nine-course meal served in the home. There are two or three rooms rented out in the house, so you eat dinner with whoever else is there, as well as the host and his helper. The host spoke English and said he was a doctor, but loves cooking. There were two other guests: a mother and daughter from Russia. The daughter, in her mid-20s, told us she was a correspondent for the BBC in Moscow. Our dinner conversation was quite fascinating. It seemed that she didn't quite know much about Trump and reality in America. The man who hosted the Airbnb was outright anti-Trump and Putin. I had never spoken to someone from Russia, so I was happy to learn anything I could. Also, the food was endless and delicious. 

The next morning we took a long route, through Marsala, to the airport to drop off the car before spending two nights in Palermo. I'd read that one should avoid driving in cities, particularly Palermo. After some uncertainty, we made it into the most heavily fortified Airbnb I've stayed in. While three sets of locked doors and an alarm system were unnerving, the space itself was gorgeous. Converted into a modern loft, the Palazzo was a bakery, hundreds of years ago. The level of security for the Airbnb was similar throughout Palermo and most of Sicily. The city's general energy felt unsafe. While this may not be the case in the high tourist season, in January, the streets were empty at night. Unfortunately, Sicily doesn't have Uber, so there was no safe way to get home in the evening. Thus, we enjoyed long lunches and wandered during the day. As expected, the food was everything I want food in Italy to be.

After two nights in Palermo, we flew back to Stansted and took the train to Cambridge to meet friends. We walked around the town, had breakfast at Wetherspoons (British TGIFridays), and did an escape room. I have never seen/read Harry Potter, but I hear that's what Cambridge looks like: classical architecture and canals, sans robes since the schools were on break.

We stayed by the airport to catch our flight the next day to Dublin. Since we had been to Dublin several months before, we knew the deal. The bus into town is straightforward. We tried to see the sights we had missed: the Long Room at Trinity College and a short trip to Howth. Dublin is rather small, and we saw most of it the last time. The light-rail trip to Howth was a breath of fresh air. We walked to the marina and ate fish and chips. After returning to Dublin, we went back to our hotel by the airport. Staying close to the airport has become one of the things I'm willing to spend on. If you have an early flight, it's so much easier to be near the airport and not worry about an early morning bus, taxi, or Uber to the airport. While I think most adults know this information, I'm still late to a few travel tips.

Overall, this was a whirlwind trip. It was one of our weirder choices. But, as is more evident than ever, every trip is worth taking.