England and Ireland 2013

B757 to England!

Off to England again!  I set out from Phoenix on October 11th for a visit with Chris and Minette in Birmingham, England, and a side trip to Ireland.  It all began with flight delays and stress…

I used the city bus to get to the airport and left in plenty of time – but on arrival at the gate discovered my flight was about 1.5 hours delayed.  I had a tight connection in Newark, and immediately began worrying about missing it.  I weighed the possibilities of simply re-booking for the next day – but opted in the end to try for the original flights.  There was at least a chance.   Newark flights had been running late all week – and there was no guarantee Saturday would be any better.  If things went south, I could always stay in Newark and get out on the next available flight.  My flight was originally planned for about 1050 departure – we finally got into the air about 1300.  The pilot announced that he would fly “this thing like we stole it” and endeavor to make up some of the lost time (but you know an A320 is not the fastest airliner ever built...)

But things started looking better…  I kept an eye on our groundspeed along the way – it was close to 700 mph at times.  The Jet Stream is a wonderful thing.  We overflew Chicago (and I fulfilled a wish of seeing the Chicago skyline and the shores of Lake Michigan from the air in clear skies) – before that I saw what I thought was the Platte River valley in Nebraska at some point along its course – but it turns out that was probably something similar in Kansas, because according to FlightAware.com we didn't cross the Platte in western Nebraska at all. 

I also saw parts of Detroit, as we flew across that corner of Michigan and out across Lake Erie.  The sunset was beautiful above the clouds, with a soft pink and golden glow.  We had made up a lot of time because of the high groundspeeds – but we gave up most of that trying to get into Newark.  They turned us back and forth and all around to fit us into the NYC area traffic – and by the time we landed it was already past departure time for my next flight. 

As soon as I could get free of the aircraft in the crowds of others trying to do the same thing – I raced down the long hallways of the terminal building to get to the departure gate for Flight 81… I really didn’t have a lot of hope for success but already in the back of my mind I was making peace with the complications – I was just planning to “roll with the flow.”  As I reached the gate, after running through the airport, the gate agent flagged me down and checked my passport.  Onboard, I stowed my bag, sat down and secured my seat belt and the plane took off at that very moment!  I’m only exaggerating a little bit…  I was the last person on and it became apparent very quickly that they had held the plane for me.  They said as much, although not directly to me; but I am a big-time eavesdropper.

Setting the stage for the next paragraph: Many American airlines, the legacy carriers particularly, get a bad rap from almost everyone. I am an experienced traveler and of course (if you know me) an experienced aviator.  I have used the American airspace system extensively, both as a pilot and a passenger, and it is the best in the world despite all its quirks and idiosyncrasies.  I was always prepared to bash these airlines like all the other “haters.”  But I wonder why we hate them so much and I conclude that much of the venom is unwarranted. Much of what we find wrong with the airline travel experience is a result of federal deregulation and their want for survival in a complicated operating environment. In other words, our biggest complaints are mostly not their fault.

I don’t want to see them fail – especially the legacy carriers (United, American, Delta); so many of them are already gone.  The point of all of this is that travel is much more common in nature – less of a “premier” experience now than it was years ago – and in essence that means air travel is not going to consist of a “first-class” experience as it once was when it was a more exclusive experience (unless you wish to pay through the nose to get coddled).  Not today, and not ever again.  We might as well get used to that and enjoy the nature of things as they are NOW.  Think about it – travel, even world-wide travel – is more universal, and easy, than it has EVER been.  We can be on the other side of the world safely in a matter of hours and any American can afford to do it if that is their choice.  That is amazing and something to be extremely thankful for and happy about. Example:  In 2003, I attended chapel at St Paul's in London and had soup for supper at my own table on the same day.

So all of that said, I was prepared not to like the United Airlines experience too much.  I am and remain a Southwest Airlines fan. But you cannot fly Southwest to England… I got the best deal on Star Alliance airlines for this trip – United, Lufthansa, and US Air.  United has one of the worst reputations of all of them – perhaps only Delta or American get more hatred.  But do you know that United was one of our first airlines?  I have to say that United did a bang-up job on these flights for me.  The customer service was good – even the food (I purchased) was good.  Airline food!  Good!  All in the same sentence!  

They actually held the plane in Newark for me – I hadn’t communicated with them about it – I simply ran for it because I knew there wasn’t much time.  And they held that plane for me (and perhaps others as well).  There was so little time between the door of one aircraft and the next, that I was absolutely certain my checked bag would NOT make the continuing flight.  But you know what?  It did.  It was waiting for me at baggage claim in Manchester along with all the others (and I was amazed).  I don’t know how they did it.  So I, for one, wish United the best of luck in their very uncertain future.  One mistake in strategic planning, one misstep and an airline can be out of business (and a part of our nation’s history dies along with them).  So no more airline bashing for me, not even for US Air.  You know how I hate US Air… Biting my tongue (or blunting my pen?) will be very difficult for me.

I don’t sleep on airplanes much.  I might have drifted off a little on the trans-Atlantic flight, but not much unfortunately.  I had a very comfortable seat on this Boeing jet (maybe even the one on the photo), paid extra for it, at the very front of the economy cabin – I had unlimited legroom and easy in and out access for the heads.  I woke up in the early light above the clouds and Ireland – saw one city down through the clouds; could have been Limerick but there is no way to know for sure.  Leaving New York I saw the Statue of Liberty all lit up below me, a ship that might have been the QM2 docked at an East River pier, and the Empire State Building as we turned and flew across the city (while still below the clouds). These things I will never forget.

Major fail for English border security; they allow known American revolutionary into country! 

Nimrod and its distinctive tail

We popped out of the clouds near Manchester a little before 0700 on Saturday morning. The overcast was low and solid, but the English countryside was as beautiful as ever; green everywhere.  When landing, I saw an RAF Nimrod sitting on a distant part of the field (at least I think that’s what it was).  Just off the plane, I made a quick pit-stop then headed to the checkpoint.  They asked a few pointed questions and challenged me on my vague answers – then let me roll on in. I then got my bag from baggage claim, went through customs with all of Minette’s booty, and started looking for the bus station. 

I had to wait a short time for the 341 coach – I got my ticket stamped and had the ticket agent issue the return trip ticket that I had left open. Once on the coach, I settled back in the seat and enjoyed the scenery on the eighty-one mile trip to Birmingham.  Along the way we passed through (and stopped at) Stafford and Wolverhampton.  I was able to take an earlier bus than I thought by about an hour and a half – and Chris met me at the Digbeth Coach Station.  We walked to the trains and got to his home by 1300 or so.

We didn’t do much the rest of Saturday or Sunday – Monday we would leave for Wales and Ireland, but prior to that we kept things limited and restful!  We did go pick up the rental car on Sunday morning – Chris’ father Peter gave us a lift to the airport and we got the car from Enterprise and headed out of the airport. I didn’t stop to figure out the OEM GPS system – I was relying on Chris to get us back home.  We got lost almost immediately.  The GPS directed us about three-fourths of the way back to their house – then reset itself somehow and took us BACK to the airport (operator error).  But we made it finally, and we visited some more, tickled the dog, then went to dinner at Al and Sarah’s.

Al Thomson at the Grill

Al is a great hand at the grill – and he grilled all kinds of treats for us in his backyard in Birmingham in October…  We sat around and told stories for a while – someone had run into and knocked down the little wall in front of their home earlier in the afternoon – and everyone was still excited about that.  But the food and the company were great and when we finally left, we snuck out and left the dog with Al and Sarah.  They dog-sat him while we went roaming around Ireland. When they got him back home again, he sat in the corner and glared reproachfully at everyone for some time -- so I think he was pretty pissed about the whole thing (being left out).

Getting to Ireland and how to completely torque off the Irish in just two days...

We took off for Wales and the ferry dock at Holyhead by about 0800 on Monday morning. We got turned around when I missed a roundabout exit (took the wrong one so it wasn't just a matter of going around again).  It took a few miles to get to the next one and do a hhuey (that's how they spell it in Wales...).  It was raining and it was rush hour -- so it was a little stressful at first.  But finally things got calmer (both traffic-wise and emotionally) and we made good time all morning.  We stopped once or twice -- at a little roadside park by a little lake -- Llyn Ogwen.  We also stopped at a roadside refreshment stand and had drinks and chocolate.  We got to Holyhead in plenty of time and had lunch before we got on the ferry. 

On board Ulysses

After the three hour ferry crossing on Ulysses, the "largest passenger car ferry in the world," we arrived in Dublin.  After getting off in the wrong direction again, we stopped to make hotel reservations, and we discovered Chris had lost his credit card!  So we straightened that out and then made our way to a Best Western hotel for dinner and a good sleep.  At breakfast the next morning, I absent-mindedly asked for a full Irish breakfast... only I called it an ENGLISH breakfast. The waiter had been friendly up until that point. After that, it was positively frosty and I am not sure he ever warmed up to us again. 

It took about three hours to drive across Ireland to the Cliffs of Moher.  I got some photos of Dunguaire Castle along the way...  it is near Galway.  Arriving at the Cliffs, we took a short walk out to the edge and along it.  The light was behind the cliffs for us and so the photos aren't perfect of the most dramatic part of the landscape -- but I got some really pretty photos looking in the other direction. 

At the Cliffs of Moher

I was dismayed at the blatant commercialism of the development of this beautiful place.  Apparently, the Irish have taken lessons from crass American developers and retailers -- the atmosphere at this place was about as bad as what Tombstone or Dodge City has become.  For such a beautiful and dramatic vista they could have done it with so much more class - more in the vein of a National Park and kept the tourist-baiting and souvenir-hawking at a respectable distance... That said, the view from the cliff-tops was magnificent.

When entering the park, I attempted to pay with English pounds.  I didn't mean to -- I had already obtained a supply of Euros.  But I had one type in one pocket and the other currency in the other pocket.  I stuck my hand in the wrong pocket in a hurry so I wouldn't hold up the queue, and oops...  another p.o.'d Irish person.  "We don't take English."  Why not give a poor traveler a break once in a while, eh? The Irish propensity for being "testy" is overrated in my opinion.

On to Cork...

We stayed the night at the Best Western Hotel Montenotte in Cork (and THERE met some friendly Irish people for a change)!  We drove the remaining short distance to Cobh on Wednesday morning.  Cobh was known as Queenstown one hundred years ago and it was a major port on the south Irish coast.  Many Irish emigrants left from Queenstown for the New World.  It was the last port of call for Titanic before she sailed off into history and it was the closest harbor to the place where the Lusitania was sunk just three years later (less than 18 miles off the coast).  We checked out the original White Star Line terminal and the Lusitania Memorial on the center of the Cobh waterfront.  The original quay still stands from which the Titanic's last boarding passengers departed on small tenders.  And we searched through the Old Church Cemetery to find the common graves of the unidentified dead from the Lusitania tragedy.  There was no DNA to help, and hundreds of the victims could not be identified. This town took care to inter them as their own.

Old Queenstown

In downtown Cobh, we had a late breakfast at a quaint little café just behind the White Star building and the Lusitania Memorial.  I think the location is called Casement Square.  I looked on Google maps to see if I could name the place for you, but alas, Google's photo on "street view" is outdated and shows the place boarded up.  I assure you it is not at present, and the food and the ladies running it were delightful!  Well, the food was good, and the ladies delightful.  Of all the places I ate (at restaurants) on this vacation, this was my favorite (although Sampans in Manchester runs a close 2nd).  The café, if you go, is at the rear of Casement Square on the west side of the street.  It is next to a pub with a varnished wooden façade.

We stopped at the Old Church cemetery on the way out of town (once we found it) and snooped around for a while, until some chilly rain made it too uncomfortable.  In addition to the Lusitania victims' graves, we found veterans' graves from both World Wars.  I snapped photos of several in hopes of learning about their ships and their battles once I got home and connected to the web again.

Southern Ireland

We had to be back at the ferry dock at Rosslare Harbor by evening, but we had plenty of time so we set the GPS for the shortest route (for back-roads and scenery) and we spent the better part of the next two hours negotiating the "scenic route." Some of the roads were not only narrow, they were unimproved; I eventually started worrying about taking too much time and getting into trouble as a result, so we re-programmed for speed and got back on dual-carriageways for the most part (what we'd call a divided highway 'round here), through Waterford, Wexford and New Ross.  I probably worried about it for nothing, but better safe than left behind at the ferry dock.

As we passed through New Ross, right on the border of Counties Kilkenny and Wexford, we spotted an old sailing ship moored near the downtown -- the Dunbrody Famine Ship, a replica of a barque representing the many similar ships that brought the starving Irish to America. I wanted a photo of it but when we stopped, the sun was in the frame and I couldn't get a good one.  So I stole this one...  I did not go onboard the ship for the tour, but I did buy a couple of souvenirs in the visitor's center and we discovered that President Kennedy gave a speech at this spot during his Ireland visit in summer of 1963.  The whole town turned out to hear and see him and they have memorialized the event at this place from which his grandparents sailed for America in 1849; Kennedy is still big in Ireland.  We just stumbled across this -- I had no idea of that history when we saw the ship from a highway bridge nearby.  Sometimes it pays to just get out of the car and walk around!

The port of Rosslare Harbor wasn't too far away and we got there early.  So we stopped at a pub nearby (the Last Pub in Ireland -- "Kilrane's") and relaxed, ate and waited for time to go to the dock.

Upon arrival home I have discovered that we were very near to the locations of the filming of John Ford's classic, "The Quiet Man."  I should have checked that out before leaving because I really would have enjoyed seeing those places (around the village of Cong).

Ferrying back to Wales on rough seas in the dark...

SE Ireland and Rosslare Harbor

We snoozed on the ferry crossing mostly; we left Rosslare Harbor on time and immediately discovered the crossing would be a rough one.  The ship was pitching up and down probably 8-10 feet.  Chris and I went up to take a look around but it was chilly and we didn’t stay up there long.  So we all stretched out on the sofas in our lounge area and rested until we were almost to Pembroke.  That last stretch of the voyage is in sheltered waters so it had calmed down by then.  No one got sick – it just wasn’t smooth.

We arrived at about 0030, and driving off the ship we were flagged down by UK Border Protection.  They checked all our passports and seemed suspicious of us but I don’t know why.  They weren’t unpleasant, but they didn’t just give us a pass either.  That took maybe 5 to 10 minutes, then we set off toward the highway (through the industrial area around the ferry port).  For some reason, the GPS took us on all back roads all the way to Birmingham, and that lengthened our driving time significantly. In retrospect, I wonder if I had selected “no motorways” at some point.  In any event, by this time, all any of us wanted to do was “get home.”  But it was quite a drive.

Tyre Damage

We took “A” roads mostly through Carmarthen, Brecon (and past the north side of that National Park), Leominster and Stourbridge on the way into Birmingham.  I got so sleepy at one point that we stopped for me to buy some strong coffee.  That worked long enough to get us back to Birmingham.  I was so far gone at the time we stopped for the “refreshment” that I had drifted a couple of times and brushed the left-hand curb with the front tire – and which damaged the tire.  I didn’t see it but the rental car agency sure did – the tire sidewall had a small slice on it that of course is not repairable and I will be replacing that tire for them.  I am still hopeful they will be reasonable about that and not overcharge me for the tire; they retained a 300 GBP deposit to cover it.

On arrival in Birmingham, we didn’t even unload much – just went upstairs and crashed.  It was a short sleep because we had to return the car later in the morning – but very nice just the same!

Relaxing in Birmingham

Chris and I got going to take the car back to the airport in plenty of time – but we had trouble finding a refueling station near the airport.  The GPS took us to first one, then another, that were closed (meaning GONE). We finally found one still in business, and after checking the car in, walked to the trains and caught one for downtown, then back to Great Barr.

This was my last full day in Birmingham, and we pretty much just hung out!  We made enchiladas for supper (I brought the requisite corn tortillas from Phoenix).  I made them a little too spicy for some of the diners, but there were none left over either.  We also had fried chicken “burritos” made with the flour tortillas I also brought for Minette (I am such a food “mule”) and some salsa they had on hand.  It was all pretty tasty stuff.

On Friday morning, I spent a little time packing my things, Chris and I walked down the hill to the market and I bought several items to bring home (chocolate, basmati rice, jams, etc).  Just some things you cannot find around here and “exotic” – because they are English, you know. I had to leave about 1415 to catch my motor coach to Manchester.

Heading Home

Chris and I took the trains and then walked to the Coach Station, where we parted company and I waited for my bus to Manchester airport.

Earlier in the day, I had discovered that I made my overnight hotel reservation for the wrong city (Birmingham instead of Manchester). I got that straightened out and the plan was now to get to Manchester about 1845, stay at the Airport Crowne Plaza, and catch my flight at 0655. That meant getting up at about 0315, so it would be a short night.

Sampans at Crown Plaza Manchester

But the coach ran about 30 minutes late and that ended up being 1:30 minutes in heavy Friday evening traffic.  I have enjoyed the coaches in the past (National Express), but this trip was so tedious (slow and go) I found myself wishing I had taken the train instead. On arrival at the Manchester Airport, the hotel shuttle picked me up fairly quickly and I got checked into the hotel in short order – then had dinner at the Sampans restaurant on-site.  That was great!  I had sweet and sour pork, a corn and chicken soup and “hot chocolate pudding” for dessert.  I didn’t leave anything behind and capped it off with a cup of Chinese tea. The food and service were both excellent.

Arriving back at the airport on Saturday morning for my longest travel day, I even beat the airline staff there.  So I waited, then checked my bag, then waited some more… I had a small breakfast of a sausage roll at the Cornish Pasty Company.  And I waited some more. Finally got onto the Lufthansa flight and off to Munich. The skies were overcast over England – I had wanted to see East Anglia along the way but alas, perhaps on another trip.  It did clear up some over Belgium and Germany, and I saw some cities below and as we prepared for landing, the Alps shining in the sun on the horizon. There was a low cloud deck over Munich airport and we were right down to the runway before we could see anything out the windows.

Munich is the only airport I have encountered since the 70s that doesn’t have full jet-way access direct to the terminals for arriving passengers.  You get off the plane (at least in some instances), then climb on a bus and are taken to the terminal on the bus.  Having completed that little adventure, I made my way to the next gate and waited for the Munich to Charlotte flight. This one was on a big Airbus A340-600. 

A340-600

I was horrified at the seat pitch on this aircraft – Lufthansa quite obviously doesn’t care much about your physical comfort (at least in some ways).  Had it been possible, I would have rebooked with another airline on the spot. While there was legroom enough, the seat back interval from the person in front of you was the least I have ever encountered on an inter-continental flight.  Where this became the most troublesome and discomforting was when the passenger in front of my aisle-seat companion insisted on reclining his seat to the extreme position. This prevented my neighbor even from using his tray table to eat – and made it extremely difficult for either of us to exit our seats.  He didn’t even get the hint after being asked to move it forward so my friend could eat – it was his seat back and he would put it wherever he wanted to; the epitome of the Ugly American.  I felt like smacking him on the back of his red-necked head and I did not take any care about not bumping the hell out of his seat when trying to get out to the bathrooms. After all of this complaining, I have to say that the crew’s service was excellent and attentive.  A+ to Lufthansa for friendly, efficient flight attendants and in flight service!  A+ for the thrill of flying on an A340.  And a big fat  F- for their economy cabin seat pitch.

On the flight home, I saw Antwerp, Nuremburg, and icebergs!  I happened to look out of the window to find the clouds broken up a bit – and saw what I at first thought were fishing boats on the waters 38,000 feet below us.  But I figured out that we were over an ice field, just south of the tip of Greenland and there were hundreds of them floating down there.  You could even see the submerged part of the bergs in several instances – and they really ARE much more below than above!  Over Canada, we flew right down the Ste Lawrence Seaway and I could see the north shoreline and the highway on it that I have driven on more than one occasion with Genevieve when visiting up in Quebec!  So cool!

Most of the flight down the eastern seaboard was above clouds, so I didn’t see too much of that.  We landed at Charlotte, NC and I had to run for the next connection – USAir 548 to Phoenix and home!  I got stopped in Customs by a nasty, ignorant, uncomprehending little agent who insisted I answered a question incorrectly on my declaration form (I didn’t).  When she turned me back into an inspection line-up, those officers quickly came to the same conclusion I did and waved me on through after a couple of short questions about what, exactly, that I had in the bag [end of rant]. The queue for TSA had also been quite long – so I was again in danger of missing my next flight. 

My US Air Ride - A321

I made it, thanks to an unusually short queue at the 2nd  (domestic) TSA checkpoint – but I was again the last person on the plane before they closed the doors.  I had an aisle seat for this flight – a blessing I was thankful for.  The window seat guy was already asleep, before take-off – never saw his eyes until we landed in Phoenix.  The middle seat person was a young woman named Jill and while she was very quiet for quite some time, somewhere over Kansas (I think) she struck up a conversation that kept me out of my own head and distracted the remaining way home – I was starting to hurt from sitting in airliner seats for about 15 or 16 hours… she was headed back to Flagstaff for school.

In Phoenix then, after an extremely long wait for our bags to show up on the conveyor, I grabbed the city bus and got home in about 1.5 hours.  End of trip!  Back to work, planning the next one!  I usually learn something about traveling each time I go.  This time it was pay attention to connection times between flights, especially when border security and customs are involved.  Airline booking engines really don't "think" about these things and you can easily get into trouble.  Personally, I'd rather add an extra hour or two and end up waiting, rather than get stressed.  In a couple of instances on this trip, I had 1.5 hour connection timeframes and they were almost not enough. And avoid Newark at all costs (it almost always has delays).

The Beach in Winter

Waitin' for the train - Los Angeles

I made another trip on the Amtrak Coast Starlight.  I've already described that journey in another post, so I'll only write about a couple of things, things that I found different this trip.

The biggest Amtrak change I found on this trip was the food.  I wouldn’t say it was bad, but the portions have gotten smaller and the selections less attractive (for me).  I got enough to eat, but I could definitely see a difference in portion size, and less generosity in the service, meaning less willingness to accommodate special requests.  The selection of entrees has also changed -- there were fewer items that I cared to eat.  I even skipped my last lunch on board because there simply wasn't anything on the menu I cared to try. That’s pretty sad, when an eater like me can’t find much on your menu that’s looks palatable.  

The best meal - Short Ribs on Plastic

The Amtrak route guide claims the dining car's meals are served on china. Sorry -- even in the Pacific Parlor Car the dinnerware was plastic.  Very nice plastic, but plastic. At least the flatware wasn't, but how long will it not be. The prices were exorbitant.  My meals were included as a sleeping car passenger, but I felt really sorry for coach passengers who had to pay $10 even for a hot dog or a plain unappetizing cold sandwich and a drink.

I asked for a bowl of soup along with my first lunch on board -- and they charged me $10 for it; on my last trip on the Coast Starlight, that bowl of soup was at no extra charge.  My guess is that it was less than 8 oz. – and it barely covered the bottom of the bowl. I am not exaggerating. I am sure this is a function of Amtrak’s continual operational losses – and those who love riding trains will put up with it simply because we don’t want to go hungry while enjoying our rail trips.  I once rode the Super Chief and ate in the vaunted dining car on that train – when that’s the standard you measure against, I guess Amtrak will be forever behind, won’t they?

Harold

I had a really fine car attendant this trip (Harold) -- which has pretty much been the normal experience for me on Amtrak with few exceptions -- but there is always at least one crew member who doesn't "measure up."  

In this case it was the Pacific Parlor car attendant, who spent a large amount of time on personal phone calls while I waited and waited for service.  And waited. These people don't seem to have any on-board supervision -- I didn't ask, and I don't know who it might have been unless maybe it is the conductor.  But he sure wasn’t paying any attention to this slacker. At other times the guy was usually friendly, so I let it go.  It was a short trip anyway, why cause trouble. But if you read about the Pacific Parlor car attendant in the post immediately prior to this one (below), what a contrast between the two - between a guy who loved his job -- and one who apparently didn't give a damn.

While it is not an unusual occurrence, this train did not have the two usual GE Genesis power units -- our second locomotive was of a type normally used for freight operations, although it did belong to Amtrak.  It looked kind of odd, sandwiched into the streamlined consist of an Amtrak Superliner. They do use them frequently when a Genesis unit is not available – I have seen photos of them before in Amtrak trains.

I slept well; I always do on trains for some reason. Maybe it is a function of contentment and rhythm. I slept from about 2100 in Oakland until 0530 the next morning somewhere just north of Dunsmuir (CA). The train had about 90 minutes of stopped time overnight -- probably in small pieces.  Some of that was station time too. We were mostly on time the entire journey; I have read that on-time performance on this route has improved dramatically.

We got into Portland about 15 minutes early; I caught a cab immediately and picked up a rental car at the airport. After a quick lunch at Burgerville (the one I didn’t get on the train), I drove Route 26 and Route 6 to Tillamook, and then the 15 miles or so north on US101 to Rockaway. I stopped at Fred Meyer (a large chain grocery store) and picked up some supplies for breakfast and a 12-pack of Coke, then found my way to the Surfside Resort.

Why I love the beach.

My room was not on the beach as I expected, but was one building removed -- I had a small view of the waves and surf along the edge of the property line. The good news is that this was all only about a 200-foot walk between the buildings to the beach. The room was very nice, not luxurious, but clean and modern, with a nice gas fireplace, a flat screen TV and a DVD player. I brought my own movies, so I didn't have to rent any of theirs. The kitchenette was about as complete as I've ever seen in a motel. I was very pleased and happy about the accommodation, even if it wasn't an "ocean-view" room.  

I had been a little miffed about that at first, at check-in and before I saw the accommodations.  After I saw the room, I felt it would have been ridiculous to make a fuss about the less than perfect view.

I did have that one little corner view though... the very best thing about it was the price was so low I almost felt like a criminal. I felt like I was taking advantage of these people!  The same room on any other beach anywhere would have been at least $150 a night and I got it for less than half that. Of course prices are higher in the peak season, but still reasonable. I’d definitely stay there again.

I only ate one meal out, dinner on Sunday. I was there from Saturday evening until Monday afternoon. Sunday breakfast was cereal and fruit from the grocery. Micky brought lunch along with Sarah, Henry and Emmy; great subs, potato salad, and chips. Micky is getting all the credit but I have a feeling Henry was responsible for a good part of it. Monday I had the same breakfast as Sunday (leftovers!) and lunch was another sub from the things Mick had brought (leftovers!) I still ended up bringing some fruit, cereal and Cokes home; I just stuffed them into the niches in my Pullman case. Sunday supper was at the "Brewing in the Wind Cafe" (obviously a coffee house although I didn't know that until afterwards; I thought I was at the Pacific Seafood Cafe, or something like that).

Clam Chowder at Oceanside

I had a great clam chowder, pureed in the European style, a salad with Marion berry vinaigrette and a ravioli dish with chicken, broccoli and Mizithra cheese and butter. It was all great -- it didn't seem like a "fancy" place but the menu was definitely inspired. Dessert was an altogether too large raspberry-rhubarb crisp.  It was a soup-bowl-sized portion. Despite how it hurt me to do so, I had to leave part of it behind. The restaurant was about thirty miles south of Rockaway in Oceanside. It was quite a drive for dinner -- but it was Sunday night, many places were closed and I kept driving until I found something besides fast food.

I drove back, stopped again at the grocery, and watched a movie in the room – “Babette's Feast.” I got some popcorn at the store but didn't even nuke it; I just wasn't hungry much after that supper. I slept late both mornings, arising about 0930 each day (after awakening about 0800). Very, very nice, what a luxury! I slept with the door opened a few inches each night to get that fresh Pacific breeze and air inside where I could breathe it.  It was only a little bit cold. I know that some people think that I am insane. 

A wide-angle view

On Monday morning I went out to take a couple more photos. I put the wide angle lens on the camera. Hey, it's a wide beach!  So I go out toward the surf on that really nice, hard-packed wet sand between the waves and the softer deep sand?  And I turn around to take a photo of the motel? And a nasty, mean little cold wave sneaked up behind me and soaked mejeans from my knees down to the toes of my beach shoes. That wave came all the way from Japan and it had time to get lousy cold. I was planning a beach walk of about two miles, but who wants to do that with sopping, freezing feet and pant legs? The air temperature was also cold, probably 45 F at the time. So I skipped the walk.

I went back up, changed into dry clothes (and shoes) and packed my stuff for the drive back to Portland.  I had a late checkout, and then hit the road. I stopped at a myrtle-wood craft shop (didn't buy anything, the prices were ridiculous, and besides, I bought something at that same place in 1973 and I still have that) and also at the Tillamook Smoker where I DID buy a couple of things. I had a Micky-leftovers picnic in a little neighborhood park in Beaverton; may the Gods bless Garmin and Micky and Henry. This was after a rainy drive over the coast range on a road I've known since I was 14, drove with my Dad, a warm fuzzy. I turned in my rental car only about an hour late and headed for the airport security queue.

The flight home was almost a straight line between Portland and Phoenix, and landed about 2310; Linda met me at the concourse exit and I was home in bed by 0200, easy. I felt that short-sleep-night a little bit today but I will go to sleep tonight as soon as my sheets are clean and dry and I will "catch up."

I am going back asap and I want to spend a week there next time. Maybe next spring... here's to vacations, even when they're short. The only thing that is not short about vacations is my list of ideas for them.