The crossing, Prisoners Harbor, the foxes, and Venus

The journey from the mainland to the first stop on the island is supposed to take about an hour, then another half an hour to the second stop (Prisoners Harbor) where we will disembark. It will take an hour if no one sees a whale spout. If someone spots a whale, the boat will come to a complete stand still so that everyone can scan the water for signs of a whale. People saw whale spouts. The ferry took a detour to investigate. The whale had just taken a deep dive, it would not surface again for a while. But don't worry, there is another one over there. This whale has taken a deep dive also. They are blue whales. Blue whales are not blue, but they are the largest animal ever to live on Earth. We were told this many times. One of my companions was concerned with the validity of this claim (nearly as many times) as there most certainly have been a dinosaur that was bigger.  I see neither whale spout nor tail during the 30 minutes we spend trolling back and forth. I do think "what does largest mean? Length, volume, mass?" each time the claim is made and countered by my companion. The journey takes two and a half hours instead of one and a half, but I learn that blue whales are the largest animal (or maybe not) that has ever lived and they are not blue.

We arrived at a long pier hurting out from a beach that stretched out to either side. Beyond the beach was a flat fan of low lying land where a stately term room mansion once stood before it burned down. Lines of Eucalyptus and a brick storehouse are that remain of the estate. The flatland was once a wetland and home to a village of native people before the Spanish came in the 1700's.

One of the ferry employees gave us a brief orientation to the island. The beach is neutral territory, but to the right that whole half of the island is privately owned. The hike up to the campground is 3.5 miles and there's nowhere to cool off so delaying our departure for a while to hang out at the beach might be advisable. We should keep our tents zipped at the top because the island foxes have learned how to unzip them. If we put our backpacks down we should put them zipper side down because the ravens have learned how to unzip them and will steal things. They will also steal things off of the picnic tables, so don't leave things out. And you may want to keep your socks and shoes in the tent as there have been reports of foxes stealing people's socks (no shoes though). The employee want sure why they wanted socks but not shoes. And if we choose to swim, shuffle our feet instead of stepping because you are less likely to surprise a stingray by stepping on it. Cool, I won't be swimming...

We did spend about an hour at the beach, it was rocky, large rounded stones instead of sand. On the walk from the pier to the beach a decomposing seal had washed up. I thought of stories I've heard of war experiences and the sweetness of rotting corpses. I can confirm the sweet taste as I breathed through my mouth. Several of my companions swam fully clothed, despite the stingray warning. We ate lunch, and drank as much water as we could stomach before the hike up to the campground.

3.5 miles is very short. It hardly qualifies as hiking really. A jaunt. And since we started the day believing we would be hiking 13 miles from the other ferry stop, it was especially inconsequential. Hardly anything that is until I was carrying several gallons of water up a hill (in addition to all the other gear) for 3.5 miles in the unrelenting southern California sunlight. I definitely didn't eat enough, or that's my excuse for how exhausted I felt when we arrived at our campground 600 feet above sea level (but I swear we ascended and descended several times). The campground had four sites under some oak trees, the first shade we saw after starting our hike and a pit toilet.

We ate dinner and watched the sun set over the mountainous terrain of the island, a line of marine fog rolling towards us. Venus shown brightly above the island, and maybe Mars. As soon as the sun went below the hills the foxes began to emerge. We saw several of them run through the dry grass nearby, paying us no mind as they went to explore and presumably to look for any zippers carelessly left at the bottom of tent doors. They had bright red faces and legs and grey backs and tails. They seemed quite unconcerned with our proximity as they streamed out of the nearby bushes. Soon the camp was full of foxes sniffing and searching and digging but we had no altercations with them and in the morning they returned to their homes.

We all turned in early and slept well, aside from me who kept hearing the whine of mosquitos swarming close to me. Several times throughout the night I turned on my headlamp to check that they were outside the tent instead of inside. In other nighttime auditory news, I can say with confidence what (at least the Channel Island) fox says. It says "whoof whoof" like a dog losing its voice. So, swedish guy, mystery solved.

Prelude to the Channel Islands

The first book I ever read was the Islands of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell. It's the story of a native girl who was left behind when her tribe was taken off her island home by the Spanish. She lived alone on the Island for more than a decade fending for herself. It's based on a true story and took place on one of the Channel Islands (though not the one I am visiting). When my friend asked if I wanted to go backpacking on Santa Cruz island, I was very excited to see what it was like since the story of that girl completely alone for years has stayed with me all of my life.

To get to Santa Cruz island you have to take a ferry from Ventura on the mainland. We were to leave early in the morning and so we had reserved a campsite on the beach in Ventura where we would can't the night before. When we arrived in Ventura, however, the man at the kiosk told us that the primitive campground was only for RVs... I'm sorry? That's right you can only stay there in an RV, sorry. Why? Because there are no services, no facilities (it's primitive you see). Okay. As I turned around I noticed a bank of no less than 6 bathrooms. Apparently those are only for use by people who own RVs.

Ventura at sunset

Instead we stayed in a lovely Vagabond inn, light green with dark green doors. It was the kind of motor hotel with two stories, all the rooms opening to the outdoors, palm trees lining the parking lot (this is California, you know). There was a pool in the center of the U shaped bank of doors. A brightly lit neon blue kidney shining cheerfully in the night. We did not swim. No one swam, although I did see a pair of lovers rolling over each other in the hot tub. 

We walked to downtown Ventura and stood on a street corner doing the seven people deciding where to eat dance, you know the one: "here?" to the first restaurant we see, an overly fancy Mexican place. 

"What about that place, they look like they have slabs of meat," one person says. 

"Hey, Natural Grill?" I'm starving, starting to feel faint. 

"There, there is a taqueria," someone points down the street, but when we get there they are closing. We end up back at the fancy Mexican place, the first restaurant we saw. It has an ornate ceiling and twelve dollar guacamole. One of us gets a margarita with a beer attached to the side with some contraption, the opening below the surface of the cocktail. The waiter explains how this will unfold. As the margarita is consumed, lowering the level of the liquid, it will be replace with beer. The glass will remain full but the beverage will slowly become a beergarita as cocktail is replaced by lager and then just a beer in a margarita glass. I think any beverage that requires an orientation is probably unnecessarily complicated. My friend's dad, who ordered the drink looks amazed by the technology and pleased. We eat twelve dollar tacos and twelve dollar guacamole and then retire to our motor hotel.

I'm the morning we will drive to the marina and take a ferry to Santa Cruz island.

Singapore (not walking around)

My trip to Singapore hasn't included much walking around the parts, it's mostly walking short distances then sitting. Never the less, I think it's worth including, if only as a contrast to other journey's.

 

At first I thought Singapore was just a weird big city, but I have to admit it's growing on me. It has a very Las Vegas unreality, it's all glittery and made up. And you know how I feel about Las Vegas. 

It feels like the future here. It's a totally three dimensional space, you'll be somewhere and think you are on the ground floor and then it turns out it's 5 stories up,... but after you got off the bus went through that parking garage and then down those stairs and that seemingly subterrainian maze of walkways and now you are out on a sky bridge between two buildings and wow that's a long way down, wait... Huh?

This is partly due to the fact that at least 50% of any journey between two points is through some sort of indoor or semi-indoor space. The mark of true luxury seems to be to never go outside except when it's picturesque or you are going in an insanely over the top pool,

 

at your apartment,

on top of a 6 story mall.

Our local taxi driver told us the best mall was so great because you arrive there on the train and can go to four different malls without going outside. Although, after the deluge I experienced my first day here, perhaps it is purely ultilitarian.

My first day here it rained. I mean it rains every day, but this was RAIN. I lived in Oregon for many years and still I was amazed. And there was lightening close enough to be blinding and for the thunder to have no delay whatsoever. Apparently, Singapore has the most lightening strikes of any place, and also the most lightening related fatalities, I was told as we waited for the bus, in a puddle of water, in a lighting storm. I saw huge bolts hitting two buildings, including that crazy one with the boat on top. You know the one I mean.

Apparently, the thing to do in Singapore is go to the Mall. My former boss told me that when they had their new student mixer to get to know the incoming undergrads in Geology, they asked everyone what their strengths were, what was something they thought they were good at. Every one said "shopping". All the nice restaurants are in the mall, as well as some government agencies. I will visit the mall where "you don't even need to go outside" tomorrow. You have to embrace these cultural experiences when you are traveling. I will report in afterward.

Around Erlangen, as promised

A dear friend recently asked me to take some pictures of where I live in Germany so she could picture it. I dutifully went around with my camera shooting those things I think are the highlights of our town, or which show its character. Perhaps my choices say more about me than they do about where I live, I'm not sure. Here is a brief description of where I live and some pictures.

I love to walk, as may be obvious from the name of this web log. When I was in college in the Pacific Northwest I spent hours walking around the college town I was in. All times of day, including the middle of the night, and throughout the year I walked. It's very relaxing to walk and you get to look at things: people's gardens and houses, the sky, the foliage, the changing seasons, the things people throw out. When we moved to Germany, we lived in a smallish city. We lived in the old town, right next to an historic castle, in the middle of things. Great for convenience and for being right where it's all happening, but terrible if your hobby is walking around looking at people's yards and houses, or at nature. All the buildings looked the same, typical old German style, or super minimalist modern. There are no yards, and window boxes, which abound in Germany, don't provide the same weird voyeuristic pleasure I get from looking at people's choice of landscaping. And the forest was too far away to walk to from my house. I felt homesick.

Then we moved to the college town where my husband's office is, because he was tired of 40 minutes each way on the bus, and also because I was tired of having nowhere interesting to walk around. I found that I just felt more comfortable in a college town (no wonder after living in various ones for the last 14 years). Erlangen is in some ways very similar to where I lived before, it is a similar size, it is relatively affluent, has many nice gardens, in part thanks to the University, tons of students, and a river running through it that has a green space along it. Everyone rides bikes, sometimes walking in town is like playing Frogger. And there are many different neighborhoods filled with detached houses with yards, as well as forest areas within walking distance of my house. It differs greatly from that other town in that it is in no way hip, alternative, or liberal. We live in the most conservative part of Germany, in a very affluent town. I just don't know how I can express its un-hipness, except to say that if Tommy Hilfiger and JC Penny's got together and made a preppy an uncool catalog with a college theme, that would start to express the style of the college kids here. I regularly see women in their thirties in light washed full length denim skirts and practical shoes.

Admittedly, most of the houses are of a style: red tiles, pitched roofs, half timbered, German, in other words. And German landscaping tends to be very much like German society, very precise and orderly, extremely well groomed, and not exuberant or showy. My taste runs more toward English cottage garden style, riotous mishmashes of plants, random rocks and statues: controlled chaos. So it is not the same experience I had walking around the hippy town I lived in. However, there is an amazing botanical garden run my the Uni, with many different areas, including an indoor jungle and an exhibit garden, which changes seasonally (I don't know how they do it, but I think they bury potted mature plants and switch them out). And there are some interesting neighborhoods and places to see the flowers coming up in spring and the leaves turning in Autumn.

Here are some pictures from around Erlangen, some of which I took recently in an attempt to showcase my town for my friend, and some of which I took on my walks over the last year. I guess I should say that Erlangen was not bombed in the war so all the historical buildings and statues were untouched.

Main market square, the building in the background is the public library. 

This is the fountain in the Schlossgarten, behind that building in the background is the main market square, to the building's left, behind the tree, you can see the side of the library pictured in the previous photo.

The Orangerie, also in the Schlossgarten, it has something to do with the University's music school and was recently refurbished.

The Botanical Garden. The exhibit garden in its current form (current being September 27th when I took this photo)

Koi pond and Water garden (one of several) at the Botanical Garden

More exhibition garden. Don't let those cacti and yucca fool you, it's cold and dreary here most of the year

One of the more charming streets near the market square. Most of the town does not look like this.

One of my favorite business signs

The Regnitz (or is it the Pegnitz here? I can never remember) river that runs through town

A working water wheel which brings up water from the river. All wood. Amazing.

Like I said, don't let the palm trees in previous picture fool you.

It was so cold this pond froze all the way through (at least 2 meters, maybe more). People were ice skating, and the old German guys had a curling area set up.

This canal connects the River Main and the Danube. It runs west of town and has miles of perfectly flat path beside it. 

More from the green space beside the river. Even the sheds look German.

More Cullen Pictures and Goodbye Scotland

On our 2nd day in Cullen we went west along the coast, along the large sandy beach. We followed it up with Fish and chips, which were, frankly, not as good as the ones I had in southern England. I don't know if it was the fish I chose, or the fact that in the south I had been walking so many miles previous to my meal.

In the evening we were visited by the son of the owner. A very charming 14 year old, who kept coming in with the pretense of needing to make himself some tea, which he would then forget about while he entertained us with his stories. My companion and I were on our second bottle of wine when he told us about his love for Louis CK. Had we seen his show, where he acts out some of his jokes. Yes, my companion had seen it often. He told us about this one episode he thought was so funny. Yes, my companion  had seen that episode. It was so funny, he said. Then he told her about it in detail. All the while, she keeps saying, "yeah, I remember", or finishing the scene for him. But he didn't let that stop him from giving her a complete blow by blow. It was great. I love teenagers.

In the morning we saw a beautiful sunrise and caught a bus back the Edinburgh. And then left Edinburgh the following morning to return to Germany. I don't think either of us really wanted to leave, but I literally almost cried. Of course that could have been the Xanax I took for the flight back. I can't wait to go back to Scotland in the future. I didn't even try haggis!

sunrise

view from the bus

Cullen, Scotland, Cullen Skink

After our lovely rest. We walked east along the coast to the ruins of an old castle. It was not raining but there was very slippery mud along the path from the previous days rain. The castle was built in the 1300's but was destroyed a few hundred years later when some vikings attacked it. The ruins were out on this finger of cliff with sheer drops of 50 feet on either side to craggy churning water. In its day, and the same is true now, access was only by foot on a steep hillside. In the castle you can see the remnants of several stories of rooms. The lower level can be accessed either by giant holes in the floor of the overlying rooms, or by what must have once been a spiral staircase, but is now a narrow spiral tunnel (how I got down). There was surprisingly little trash in the ruin. It seems like exactly the place I would have gone to build a fire and drink beer in high school...

On our way back, we decided to go into the town in search of Cullen Skink and a pint of cloudy cider. Cullen Skink is a very famous and beloved soup throughout the British Isles. It consists of smoked haddock and potatoes in a cream base with a pinch of nutmeg. We found what we were looking for at the Three Kings pub. I ordered a cider, when asked which one, I responded, "the cloudy one." One of the pub patrons responded " you mean, the stronger one!" with a bellow. Uh huh. My companion was unsure what to order. "A beer, which one is your favorite?" A tall man, well into his cups sitting at the bar recommended the IPA. "Oh, it's good then?" cups offered her a taste of his, which he had newly received. She tried it. She approved. He grinned. "You know it's a custom in Scotland that you have to marry a man if you take a sip of his drink?" Wonderful. Too bad she's already married. Darn.

The soup was wonderful, though a bit on the salty side. All the more reason to have a second pint of cloudy cider. After the pub, I took a nap and my companion walked along the beach. It was a very successful day.

The giants steps

That's where the castle was

ruined castle

there's the lower story

Cloudy cider!