Happy New Year!

First of all, let me be the last to greet you a Happy New Year!

It's always a good thing to be behind on this blogging business because that means I've been too busy living life that documenting it takes the back seat.  It seems like I’ve crawled under a rock after the holidays, but the reality is I have been willingly buried under an infinite stream of spreadsheets at work. 

New years (and birthdays) are always events of self reflection for me, as it is for many people. Allow me to share what I've been mulling over the first two weeks of 2015.

1.  I am only measured against myself, and not somebody else’s impression of myself.   

2.  It is a known fact that mojos are a transient thing. They come and go all the time. And although the case is no different for me, my practice is for it to linger as long as it possibly could.  And for that to happen, I learned that one must allow an environment in your life for mojo to thrive, and should you lose it for short periods of time, one should have enough space that allows the return of that beautiful, inspired self quick and often. 

3.  Unhappy people are usually the bored ones.  I’m not saying overcompensate by spreading yourself too thin on a million different hobbies.  But instead, hone a couple latent or dormant ones.  For me, this means taking better photos (which I’ve already taken the major leap to accomplishing) and being better at a third language.  It’s still a toss up between Spanish and French, but my planned trips for the year make French the more obvious choice.  And yeah, well, being stronger and faster at climbing steep hills on a mountain bike.  

The new year is also that nascent time for one of my most publicized passions of all time: Travel.  It’s the time I look forward to which uncharted territory (in my terms), I will be venturing off to.  The sights are already set on some destinations with some serious altitude and as soon as I unbury myself from the aforementioned spreadsheet situation, my head will literally (and I’m sure, figuratively) be above the clouds. 

The Dutch and I have rattled off the highlights of our 2014 in a conversation on NYE.  Not many people know this, and despite all the beautiful places I’ve traveled to last year, including a dream road trip in Italy, the best part of my year was my short and sweet visit to the Philippines.  Nothing absolutely compares to quality time spent with family and friends who have known me all my life and who love me regardless.  I never ever have to throw a pitch to sell myself.  I don’t have to compete.  I come home and I could just be.  I have seen many people come and go in my life, some more heartbreaking than most, but being back in my roots, I feel that I have profoundly circumnavigated all the character building stuff the last four years and I’ve banished away any thoughts that I should be a forever recluse.  A total, unequivocal,indubitable full circle, ladies and gentlemen. 

So to all my family and great friends from Manila that I go way back with, if you did not know yet, I am grateful for you.  Thank you for creating space for me while I was home.  My heart swells with my love for you.  You are irreplaceable in my books. 

Happy New Year!

#Grateful

We are literally skipping Thanksgiving this year.  It's the Thanksgiving that we'll spend in a void, but I wanted to speak about the gratitude that is overwhelming today!  My wanderlust dreams are coming alive year after year.  The economy here in America is no longer on life support, it seems like.  That means a firmer sense of stability.  Thus, our kitchen remodel designed by me (reveal coming soon).  The job is doing well.  Everyone in the family is in good health.  And The Dutch...  This week has been particularly stressful with a BIG trip coming up and all, but the great man he is, he calmed everything down.  Effortlessly.

If you ever have the compulsion to sneak out to the mall tomorrow or on Black Friday, please pause and think if you really need anything.  The essence of Thanksgiving is gratitude for the things you already have - family and friends.  Remember that you cannot find that at Walmart, no matter how hard you try.  

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  

Gone Glamping

It's great that we are a country that celebrates gratitude.  This year, we spent Thanksgiving sleeping in bungalow tents in a place I cannot seem to stop raving about - Costanoa.  For suburbanites who wouldn't have a single clue how to start a wood fire even if our lives depended on it, Costanoa provides an incredible experience of being out in nature without really roughing it out, or starting your own wood fire sans lighter fluid, for that matter. I guess the term they've coined for this experience is "glamping".

Nonetheless, my experience at Costanoa is rather unforgettable.  The camp is located across from the non-touristy side of the California Pacific Coast on Highway 1. At night, when everything has silenced down, you can hear the thunderous waves of the Pacific.  We traded in Black Friday shopping for an early morning run to the beach, and noise and traffic for the sound of crashing waves and unidentifiable birds.  In lieu of the many diversions that include the television, wi-fi, and smartphones, we got to hike miles and miles each day, taking in diverse topographies and wildlife.  A friend posted that gratitude is making what you have enough.  And when you've untangled yourself from the trappings of society and capitalism, albeit temporarily, you will know in your bones that it's true.

I think we might have started a tradition.

[stay: Costanoa]

Costanoa has been the ideal getaway for us suburbanites seeking temporary reclusion from the mundane, from the mandatory routine of suburban life.  Costanoa is located in an obscure location sandwiched between the gaudy and overly touristy Half Moon Bay and Santa Cruz.  It rests right across from the Ano Nuevo State Park that the only thing separating you from the Pacific Coast is Highway 1.  

We stayed in bungalow tents that have very little for creature comfort, but do have a couple of lamps and electric sockets for your electric devices (which you don't need here).  Since we went in early winter, what sold us was the heated mattress in the tent.  The bed was very comfortable and was our cocoon from the cold that crept in after dark.  

Some tents have fire pits, but there's always a fire at the courtyard.  There are no ensuite bathrooms in the bungalow tents, but common bathrooms are literally a hop and a skip away.  They're clean and have heated floors.  Yes, there's only one indoor shower, but I only had to wait once in the two days we stayed there.  

There is an onsite restaurant that serves food made of fresh and whenever available, organic ingredients.  The front desk has a roster of activities that include guided hikes and yoga.

Ano Nuevo State Park is right in the whales' migratory path and we're already planning our second visit in May!

  

Greatful.

It's only 6 o clock, but it's already dark out.  I peek out the window and I see nothing.  Just darkness.  The Dutch, apparently along with the rest of the world at this moment, was taking a nap.  I turn the knob and tiptoed outside.  I had no expectations of what I would see.  I had no fear nor anxiety yet a part of me was curious and wanted to explore a wee bit on my own.  I looked around and I was nearly floored.

The small, quiet moon illuminated the trees and the path.  It cast a glow on everything around just as it probably does every night without me noticing.  Even if I needed a flashlight, I don't remember which bag it is stowed in, so I'm glad I could manage without one.  The scent of distant campfires, unfamiliar to my olfactory senses, is thick in the air.  I watched for movement, they say pumas and mountain lions live here too, but I saw none.

So I pressed on.

It's amazing how we have forgotten to notice how magnificent the night sky is, how the universe is as abundant as the countless stars in the evening sky.

We are in a remote pocket California north of Half Moon Bay called Costanoa, a place I have bookmarked three years ago.  I am writing this in a small tent cabin, illuminated right now by a small 5 watt bulb while my rear is being warmed by a heated mattress.  Other than a bed, a couple of chairs and nightstands, there's really not much.  We are not completely off the grid and although there is running hot water and the toilets flush in the common bathroom, one has to walk about fifty feet,up a brief incline, to use the facilities.  The trade off is that you unplug long enough to contemplate on the what is primeval and essential in life - living itself.

On this day of gratitude in America, there is no other place I'd rather be.  We spent all afternoon hiking on bluffs overlooking the gorgeus Pacific Ocean.  In half an hour, we will be going to dinner at the lodge.  It is, after all, Thanksgiving, and one that is celebrated in the company of equally grateful souls.  The plan is to punctuate the evening with a bonfire and s'mores.  Tomorrow morning, I will be celebrating gratitude on the mat.  I have seen a lot of this world this year, more than I have ever imagined or longed for, and for that and for all the many blessings that have enriched my life this year - for family and friends, for laughter and sobering moments, for the sunshine and seasons, for ocean breeze and the sound of crashing waves, for tribulations and frustrations, for health, for equanimity and peace where it can be found, for every single thing that came to me the last year - I am humbled and grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone from the Coast.

Namaste,
Trish

October Surprise

I'm so behind on posting pictures and there's nothing like some airport downtime to motivate one to upload some aging photos.

They've been tapping their feet in impatience at me, "Let's go!"

Nature has yet taunted us with a significant snowfall in the autumn.  The first snowstorm of the Tahoe area happened in October again.  Instead of reading this as an indication of perhaps a great winter season, I'd defer the weather predictions to the meteorologists.  If we base it on last year's snow results, we know, "in like a lion" is not really a promise of anything.

But what is good about snow in autumn, other than the obvious water supply argument, is that it is a beautiful time to be outside.  The ground is blanketed in snow (and in the case of Mount Rose Meadows, at least six inches of fresh powder) and coats the woods in whimsy.  It's not quite freezing yet so that means, it's the perfect and rare chance for a hike in the snow.

A Dutch boyfriend with an adventurous spirit, a Garmin EDGE 800, water, a Toblerone, loads of sunshine, crisp mountain air (and proper technical gear for me this time around) and we are rockin'.

Except for the occasional chirping of birds who sounded as happy as we were to be alive at that moment and the muffled crunch of snow under our feet, the meadows were so quiet - not at all in an unnerving way, but in a solitary, almost sacred way. We occasionally passed a cross country skier or a couple on their way back from their own hike, and if it were not for some dog and ski tracks, one would think the rest of civilization had vanished and left all this wild, white beauty to ourselves.

We ascended in silence, me trailing behind the Dutch. It was not a time to talk. It was not a time to make plans.  It was a time to let the world be.  It was a time to revere nature's cycles and marvel at the unseen hand that painted a scene so idyllic. We had no real plan of where we're going or where we're supposed to end up. I followed the Dutch and the Dutch, I suppose, followed his gut.

I watched the interplay of light and shadow all around me as the late morning sun illuminated dry pine needles on the ground you otherwise would not take notice of. And I think how light is part of shadow in as much as shadow is part of light. There is no summer without winter, no heat if we don't know what cold is.

I am unaware of exactly how long we had been hiking.  When asked if we should climb this steep hill, I did not hesitate.  Little did we both know, the pay off would be magnificence like this:

Lake Tahoe, in all its splendor, as blue as the blue, blue sky, opened up before our eyes and jaws as wide as discs.  We did not seek this view, yet we were rewarded with it.  It was like waking up on Christmas morning and finding a big surprise under the tree.  

We sat on a rock, tore open the Toblerone we've been saving until we know we've earned something and shared a milk chocolate nougat goodness with the best view in the world at that moment.

The seriousness didn't last very long since a snowball fight was just too irresistible.  

After a dozen or more (failed) attempts by the Dutch to hit me with a snowball, we started our descent back, cheeks flushed and hearts bursting with those unspeakable things.  

It is often said that in one's last few moments of life, our life flashes before us.  I am certain - CERTAIN - that when my time is up, this day will flash before me, and right here and now, as I write this, I am happy that I put on those snow shoes and went out in the woods that cold October morning.

The 312.

Every once in a while, I find myself struck with awe and overwhelmed with little-girl giddiness when I'm traveling. I could be watching the sunset in a secluded island or I could be walking under the canopy of concrete and glass skyscrapers, but that feeling is unmistakably the same. I would go from being so caught up with the place - its smells, its sounds, its energy, until slowly everything just dissipates and you're just paralyzed, completely absorbed and one with the place. It's difficult to describe.

I was walking hurriedly home on a Wednesday afternoon after spending the day listening to discussions about governmental budget crunching so I can change into my running clothes for a dusk run. It was a wonderful feeling to temporarily and momentarily belong somewhere foreign and unfamiliar. I chose to walk right next to the Chicago river. Midway to the hotel, I froze. Standing there, I felt extremely lucky. I realized that everything that happened in my life, and I mean every single thing, led me there, to that particular moment.

Isn't that awesome?

Wonder is an amazingly beautiful thing, along with its twin, curiosity. I sometimes imagine what it would be like to lose all interest in the world and other cultures, or to lose the ability to be mystified and fascinated. The idea of a life devoid of the ability to welcome a new adventure makes me shudder.

Chicago is not especially beautiful, I don't think. I'm certain there are more exceptional cities in the world, but at that moment, it felt exactly the right snug fit. It was the sometimes elusive intersection of big city and small community, of industrialism and nature, of power and sobriety, of form and function. All you need to do is look up at the skyline on the east and you will be transfixed by the nobility of the Chicago Tribune tower and disgusted by the Trump Tower next to it. (What do they say again about men who drive big trucks?). Yet, it somehow works! Downtown Chi-town is clean, safe, and walkable. Public transportation works and is pretty dang inexpensive ($2.25 each way from Midway to downtown on the orange line of elevated train, playfully dubbed as the "El"). The city is surrounded by water and there were old bridges and canals and riverside walking trails that sells itself to an attractive lifestyle. I was told that it's the Midwest flair that distinguishes Chicago from any other big city out there, though, and I could not agree more. The Chicagoans you pass on the street look healthy and alive (as opposed to the zombies in other cities of similar size). They even smile!

The 312 by Foot (in Running Shoes)

Downtown Riverside is a great place for a run. Whether you head east or west on Wacker Drive, it's a great way to get intimate and integrate with the City. This is precisely why I love running when I'm visiting a place. When you're on foot, and in this case, in running shoes, you are unafraid to explore and to get lost. In this age of hypertechnology, I find that running in a foreign town presents a rare opportunity to use your gut feel and instinct as your guidebook and compass anymore. The sweet reward? Literally running into some pretty amazing sights you would not otherwise see!

The 312 in Two Wheels (in Two Hours)

Especially if you're traveling for work, it can be a quagmire to try and be everywhere and see everything in a limited window. I tend to try and get on a saddle when this happens (actually, even when I have all the time in the world, my preferred mode is the bicycle). It gets you places quicker without having to worry about traffic, parking, and getting run over while you stop for pictures. Chicago was perfect for an afternoon bicycle ride since they have a trail right next to Lake Michigan. P.E.R.F.E.C.T.

I rented a hybrid for $20 two hours before closing Bobby's Bike Hike on 465 N McClurg Court. NPR was blaring when I walked in, my bike had a name ("Gus"), and the guy assisting me punctuated his sentences with "Right on!". I felt right at home! :)

I did an 8 mile loop heading north first to Lincoln Park, then south to Millenium Park. It was easy breezy (literally), the sun was glistening on beautiful Lake Michigan. Again, I cannot help but feel happy for the privilege to be alive and well enough to be pedaling my way in this vibrant city.

My 8 mile loop on Lakefront Trail

Thanks, Gus!

I didn't expect Chicago to be this beautiful.

.. and playful! Ferris wheel on Navy Pier

The Art Institute of Chicago

Millenium Park art

Chicago is recognizable by the Cloud Gate, but more known as "The Bean"

The Jay Pritzker Pavillion designed by Frank Gehry

Gastrolicious in 312

When in Chicago, eat what the Chicagoans eat.. at least once, then move on. The bellhop sent me to Giordano's for some authentic deep dish Chicago-style pizza. After I had walked for at least two miles, this "slice" was a guiltless treat. I ate at the bar to skip the very long wait.

Publican is great, local food on the Fulton Market where you can rub elbows with locals and if that's kind of night, celebrity chefs. The food was hearty and was oozing with quality. I loved the convivial atmosphere of this place!

For coffee, I would not go anywhere else but Intelligentsia, where a good cup of joe is both an art and passion.

For some serious mixology and radical libations, treat yourself to a unique Chicago experience and trot to Aviary on West Fulton. It's not a bar, but more like a science lab where cocktails are being reinvented. Think a cosmopolitan with marshmallow-esque balls served on a small steel bowl, sipped with a spoon. It's genius! According to my Chicagoan friends-slash-epicurean gurus, Dean and Eliza, Aviary is owned by Grant Achatz of El Bulli in Spain, one of the world's most prestigious restaurants.

I sadly passed on any culture during this trip, but then that just gives me legitimate reason to return. Chicago was a wonderful experience and if you can't tell yet, the Windy City blew me away.