Archives for category: Travel

When I travel, the goal is usually to shape an itinerary based on the type of experience I’d like to take away from the time spent in a destination. Reflecting on my most recent international trip to New Zealand in the Spring (their Autumn), we absorbed picturesque landscapes – our mouths perpetually agape and uttering blasphemous statements, “Queenstown, What. The. F***.” We revved ourselves up with takeaway after takeaway of flat whites, wiled the hours away on the sands of Waiheke Island, challenged our stamina to tough hikes and shared in generous libations with travelers from all over. Yet, I wish we could have done more.

Travel regrets are rare, however even after nearly three weeks in New Zealand (and brief stopovers in Melbourne and Sydney), there are plenty of reasons to return.

These are the top three things I’d do the second time around in New Zealand (and Australia):

  • Spend Every Day in the South Island: As I outlined in a previous post, New Zealand is an outdoor enthusiast’s mecca. During our first night in Queenstown, over a few pints of Speight’s and new company in town, one of our fellow travelers  said, “If you can, I’d skip the entire North Island and stay in the South Island.” Bold words to say about a country brimming with adventure, yet entirely fitting. He’d just returned from a jet boating trip, while our other new companion was prepping for a day of canyoning (we went with her). My travel partner and good friend Ayanna and I found ourselves at odds with choosing between various hikes and water activities. Many required a half-day bus trip or an overnight stay in a smaller town, which wasn’t efficient for our four-day stay. Even after the cardio we cranked out in our short time in Queenstown, we barely broached the South Island’s potential. Instead, we stayed the course and flew to the North Island, to the San Francisco-like hills and jammed cafes of Wellington and then further still to the bustle of Auckland, which was jarring after spending most of our time surrounded by sheep, meadows and lakes – when we weren’t tramping around.
Heading back into town after hiking up to Skyline in Queenstown.

Heading back into town after hiking up to Skyline in Queenstown.

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If you’ve been following the blog for a bit, you will know that I enjoy a good brunch, and that’s just me being modest. One could say that I live for leisurely weekends and brunch was invented for just that.

Throughout my brunchventures (brunch + adventures) I have found it difficult to find a dish that combines sweet and savory on one plate. You could argue that I just order two plates (which I have) or to just pick a side, which I have also done. The former can get expensive, especially if I am ordering an a.m. cocktail, which I usually am while the latter leaves me full yet incomplete.

During a recent day-trip to Santa Barbara, I was pleasantly surprised to find the brunch dish I’ve been searching for at Scarlett Begonia, a charming restaurant tucked into the Victoria Court shopping center just off that main drag downtown (State St.).

The sweet and savory came in the form of the Pork Belly Bourbon French Toast; maple-glazed pork belly served with almonds, fresh fruit – blueberries, strawberries – and a poached egg to pair with the thick-cut piece of brioche French toast. The pork belly was generous as well, which I like to see. What a well-balanced meal; definitely not from a nutrition perspective, but we’re not talking about nutrition.

Unfortunately, there were leftovers even after stuffing myself to capacity. I opted not to take the leftovers with us. A meal this good never tastes the same after you’ve nuked it outside of the restaurant.

On the other hand, I’ll make my way back North next weekend to catch the tail end of the Music Academy of the West Festival. You’ll know where to find me in the likely hours of 11 – 2.

We sat outside. I'm a sucker for ambiance. Photo credit: Scarlett Begonia

We sat outside. I’m a sucker for ambiance. Photo credit: Scarlett Begonia

By car, you are one of the herd, confined by the unpredictable flow of traffic. On the train, expectations are predetermined by a schedule. Theoretically, I would board Amtrak’s Pacific Surfliner at 11:30 a.m. and arrive in the middle of Downtown Los Angeles and my final destination a few hours later.

The train rolled in a few minutes past the half hour. I climbed aboard slightly annoyed. It was the July 4th weekend, and I had a social schedule to keep. The top deck was sparse; I committed to one of the many open window seats and plugged my iPhone into an empty outlet. I scrolled through the #Amtrak Twitter search results to see what my fellow Amtrak passengers thought about their experiences. Unfortunately, it looked like there were major delay issues on the East Coast. A power outage, apparently. Fortunately, I was in California.

With that perspective, all was forgiven as we glided North from the Oceanside stop; past the surfers at San Onofre, the sparkling view of the sand and shore, colorful beach umbrellas ruffling in the breeze – the folks on the sand enjoying the bright, sunny day just like me. Because I’m on a train. And those folks crawling the opposite way on the I-5? They probably wished they took the train. I could almost feel the strain in my right foot toggling from the gas and brake pedals, a sporadic routine that is guaranteed on that wretched drive. Been there, done that way too many times. No thanks, not this weekend.

I felt in complete opposition to what it usually feels like to make the drive; on the day I took the train, I felt calm and quiet. Even the steady clang of the bell as we arrived at each stop and the intermittent blasts of the train’s warning horn (or whatever it’s called) felt welcome. After a while, it blended into the periphery.

Inside, the seats were wider and boasted more legroom than a domestic flight. The shushing of the air-conditioning and the pleasant rumble underfoot as it carried on put me at ease. Why haven’t I thought of train travel before?

This was the way America traveled the country before cars and planes; this was their way, it wasn’t novelty, the way I treated it. Train travel was their ticket to the future, a coal-fired exchange for more time, opportunity, exploration. I considered this as the conductor stopped at my seat as I unlocked my battered iPhone, flashed the QR code and was recorded as another passenger on its daily route.

View of Oceanside, CA from Amtrak Pacific Surfliner.

View of Oceanside, CA from Amtrak Pacific Surfliner.