Showing posts with label Trains. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trains. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Paris: The French Connection

5/4/16:  Happy Star Wars Day!  In case you missed it last month, check out the link to my "Just read" mini reviews of the latest Star Wars books (and other books), and also my earlier post about why I'm reading the latest Star Wars "canon" novels.



From the Loft Boutique Hostel Paris, last Thursday:


Merely an hour before my connection flight to Seoul, Korea left Seattle yesterday, I had a change of heart.  I had just flown standby in Business Elite class to from Portland-Seattle, and another Business class seat was all but guaranteed for the Seattle-Seoul leg as well.  The problem was that the return flights from South Korea to the U.S. were 95% full for days.  As a Delta standby traveler, I tend to play it safe.

I had mapped out some enticing hiking/scrambling trails near Seoul.  But this wasn't the first time that I had abandoned plans to hike in South Korea.  See the link to my previous post, South Korea: The Bumpy Road to Seoul... And also the sequel, The Netherlands: Bicycling to Haarlem.





Fortunately, there was a Seattle flight to Paris only one gate away.  55 minutes prior to departure, I changed my listing.


En route to Paris, the Business Elite flight attendants were flawless.  The food was exquisite.  But for whatever reason, I landed in Paris with a splitting headache and a barely manageable fever.


Flying over France






Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport


Nursing my headache for a spell in the CDG airport arrival lounge helped get me back on my feet.  I set off for the Loft Boutique Hostel Paris using the RER train to connect with the blue Metro line.  From the Belleville stop on the Metro, the Loft Boutique Hostel was a five minute walk down the street.

On the way to drop off my backpack at the hostel, I stopped by the Englise Notre Dame de la Croix... Not to be confused with its more famous cousin, Paris' iconic Notre Dame cathedral.


A photo posted by Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) on



As soon as I upload this quickie blog post from Loft Boutique Hostel, I'll dash over to the Louvre museum and (of course) the Eiffel Tower.

I've visited Paris countless times... How have I not yet toured the Louvre?


Saturday, May 23, 2015

The Netherlands: Zuid-Kennemerland hiking and Haarlem biking

This is Part 2 of 2 of my mini-mini-travelogue from Europe last month.  Check out the link to Part 1 of my story.

Stories and photos from other recent overseas trips and hiking/mountain climbing adventures are on the way!



A photo posted by Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) on

From my new Instagram page: Bicycling from Haarlem to Zuid-Kennemerland, the nature reserve suggested by my Twitter friends Martijn and Antonette from we12travel travel/outdoor adventure blog.



The title of last month's on-location post (drafted on the plane ride over the ocean and uploaded in the  Amsterdam airport), The Netherlands: Bicycling to Haarlem, was a bit off the mark.  Turns out that "Bicycling FROM Haarlem" would've been more accurate.  Chalk that up to optimism and an unrealistically ambitious itinerary.

The bicycle rental didn't actually happen until Haarlem, where I began my ride.  This was because back in Amsterdam, a couple of delays had forced me to tweak my plans to maximize my daylight.  And nothing would deter me from bicycling to my destination: Nationaal Park de Zuid-Kennemerland.



To make up for lost time, I hopped a train from Amsterdam to Haarlem instead.  This quick European daytrip would be over before I knew it.


Jetlagged train ride from Amsterdam to Haarlem (I changed my mind after telling a friend I wouldn't share this photo-- You know who you are!)





Haarlem train station, inside and out



It didn't take long to spot a bicycle rental shop near the Haarlem train station.  Friendly owner Mustafo only spoke about 20 words of English, but he helpfully walked me through the quirks of his of his prized storefront model.

Mustafo draws up the paperwork


Navigating my bicycle across town to check in at the hostel was pretty easy once I got my bearings.  Learning to keep that fixed gear bike stable while balancing a luggage bag on my back... well, that wasn't exactly among my most graceful moments.



A new set of wheels


Two-wheeled rush hour traffic in Haarlem


The Gravestenbrug over the River Spaarne




The Corrie ten Boom Museum







Vine video of the Gravestenbrug:  Snipe the "unmute" button above to hear the sound of those church bells ringing out over the River Spaarne



The clean and stylish Local Botique Hostel was still, for a few more hours, a ghost town when I rode up and parked my bicycle.  There was already a full house booked for that night, but I had checked in too early in the day to round up new friends (my typical routine when I arrive at an overseas hostel) for the day's adventure.


The Local Botique Hostel-  Love the friendly staff!



After dropping off my bag in my dorm room, I climbed back onto my bicycle for the ride out of town.  Some residential navigation was necessary to locate the highway.  Curse those confusing roundabouts!



Once on the highway, the route to Nationaal Park de Zuid-Kennemerland was an easy ride.  And as Anto had told me the day before, the park itself was wonderful.  The wild animals were out playing, though I missed the "Scottish cattle with the big horns" that she said I should've been watching out for.






From my new Instagram:
A photo posted by Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) on




A photo posted by Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) on




Alarmingly, time quickly got away from me.  I'd been frequently hopping off my bicycle to hike trails that were too rough for my tires.  All of that extra hiking time added up, and I found myself at the far end of Kennemerland park with less than an hour before the bike rental shop closed.

I raced down the highway, back to Haarlem, and returned my rental bicycle just as Mustafo was closing up shop at the dinner hour.  We bid each other "vaarwel" as I walked outside to continue my sightseeing on foot.












Later that evening, I met some friends who were in town at Tapas Bar El Pincho to wind down for the day.  The staff was kind enough to let us enjoy their cushy, open-air patio seating until long after the sun went down.

**********



The following morning's sunrise was beautiful as I checked out of the Local Boutique Hostel.  I took time to enjoy the quiet walk back to the Haarlem train station.  For once, there would be no rushing to catch my mid-morning plane back to the States.







A photo posted by Garth Hamilton (@garth_hamilton) on



Back at the Amsterdam airport, a single Business Elite seat remained open for the flight home to Portland.  I was flying standby.  Despite a couple of extraordinary circumstances that should've sent me to the back of the plane (but hopefully not stranded in Europe), I was awarded that seat up front.

Variations of "You're extremely lucky" were echoed by several of the flight attendants and one of the gate agents as I was assigned my seat.

Alternately, the head purser serving my side of the cabin walked past my seat and whispered, "It's a miracle,"


I prefer to think that it was the latter.





Beginning next weekend on Garth's Blog...


Recent hikes in the U.S. and abroad...


Visiting family and climbing in Bend this weekend...

...And last month's climbs on Mount Hood!

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Northern Italy, Pt. 2: Verona, Venice, and beyond

Readers:  This brief European visiting spree from a couple weeks ago was a mini-continuation of our family’s vacation in Spain, our trip that got cut short a few weeks earlier.  Stay tuned for our family’s Madrid travelogue from September, coming soon!




…Continued from last week’s Northern Italy: Confrontation in First Class (link), and written on the return train from Verona and also in my Venice hostel:


Planes, trains, automobiles, and boats.  Dabbling in nearly every conventional mode of motorized transportation was the only way to reach my first stop: Verona, Italy.

It felt like I had already been gone for days.  In reality, quick visits to friends in Edinburg, Leon, and Rome were sadly cut from the itinerary prior to my seatmate’s drunken scuffle with airline crews on the taxiway in New York.  It was a bummer to waste two whole travel days when Kathy and Lena were already on their way out of town… we USUALLY travel together as a family.  My goal was for us all to return home at roughly the same time, so the clock was ticking.

My Venice flight’s emergency return to the gate in JFK had delayed my arrival in Verona even longer.  Once the onboard hubbub died down, most of my comfy flight time was spent reading and studying. [11/6/13: Also see the comment section from last week’s post].  I should have been sleeping.

**********


After 20+ hours of driving, flying, and layovers, I hit the ground in Venice.  A ticket lady at Venice's Marco Polo airport directed me to a boat that would supposedly connect with my train to Verona.  I should’ve known there was an easier way.

The boat driver was in no hurry.  Now I’m not saying that he was slow, but at one point I seriously considered diving into the canal and swimming ahead to shave off some time.








Turns out the entire boat ride in Venice was both unnecessary and uncalled for.  The Italian woman at the ticket booth heard my request for “Verona” and must have translated it to “Murano.”   That’s right, Italian auto-correct in action.  She sold me an expensive ticket for a water taxi (no destination printed) that I caught at the docks, thinking that it would take me from the Venice airport to the train station.  Nope!


I switched boats.  A nautical hour later, our boat eventually floated into one of the narrow canals and docked next to a waterfront café.  The amazing race was on:  find the train station, and then catch a fast train to Verona.  I wouldn’t be racing untethered, though…

Euji from the boat christened me as her personal tour guide to untangle the confusing walkways of Venice.  My expertise must have been determined by me stepping onto dry land a whole five seconds before she did, right?  I didn’t have the heart to keep explaining to Euji about the American phrase, “the blind leading the blind.”


After hurriedly helping my enthusiastic Japanese friend locate a couple of tourist sites, I ran to the Venice station to hop a westbound fast train.  My friend staying near Verona was patiently waiting, although we had already scaled back our plans due to my late arrival in northern Italy.  A weekend of hiking, sightseeing, and whatnot was reduced to whatever we could squeeze into an afternoon and evening.



Carli, the WWOOF farmer, arrived about the same time as I did to meet me at the Verona Porta Nuova train station.

Sharp readers may remember Maggie's sister Carli and other friends from this trip being mentioned in previous posts.  Maggie's still awesome as always, and her and Carli are the the two sisters who signed up with Worldwide Workers on Organic Farms a couple years ago to WWOOF their way through Italy.

Maggie stayed in the U.S. this year as Carli returned to Italy in April for more exploring and farming, spending the bulk of her current stay working in and above the majestic Arpisson Valley.  Some earlier missteps this year tragically prevented me from visiting that beautiful countryside near Cogne.   But it was certainly worth the side trip to Verona yesterday to include her in my latest Italy visiting spree.  Maggie and Carli write about their adventures here, and a widget for their blog can also be found on my “Garth’s Blog” sidebar.


Being first time visitors in town, neither of us could tell apart Verona from Khumbu, Nepal.  We discovered that fans of Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” would find much to appreciate in the historic center, as well as ancient Roman and Gothic architecture buffs.  Some of the monuments and structures that we walked past dated back to the first century A.D., like the Arena di Verona coliseum.  Checking out the walking trails at nearby Lake Garda may have been a more fitting activity than urban sightseeing, though.

The friendly locals were brimming with that famous Italian hospitality of the region.  A helpful café owner even loaned us an umbrella for a few hours to fend off the rain as we explored the town.  And we weren’t even his customers!









Refreshing afternoon gelatos, antipasto, tasty pizza, and a calzone (the only actual meal I’ve had so far) took the edge off our hunger for the walk back to the train station.  If only I had remembered to grab the leftovers!  By the time I retrieved my backpack from the luggage locker, the last slow train to Venice was only a few minutes away from nearing the station.


Back in Venice, a boat picked me up in front of the train station, cruised through the city’s canals in the dark, and dropped me off at the Generator Hostel Venice around 1:30 a.m.  I’d need to rest up for joining my friend Chris in the morning near his campsite, and also for hooking up with the gang from the Tuscany region later on.

My exhausting, mostly sleepless string of travel hours should have sent me immediately into bunk bed hibernation.  But a rambunctious party in the common lounge downstairs tempted me with a more enticing option.  Bout in Venice, first round:  Much needed sleep vs. bonus fun with fellow backpackers.  Anyone who knows me can definitely guess which choice won out!

One of these days, I’ll learn.

**********


It remains to be seen if this trip will live up to the “beyond” section of this post title, as planned.  It all depends on my meager budget, time, and how close my other friends in Italy are at the moment.

But one thing’s for sure:  I can’t wait to get home to Kathy and Lena soon.  Unlike our family trip to Spain last month, our time off work and out-of-town schedules didn’t line up this time.  I’ll be hurrying home shortly, anxious to whisk them away to somewhere else across the globe!


11/6/13: Rather than further delaying this two-week old post to find free time for updating, I added the intro/pics today and pretty much published it as is. And now that I’m back in the States, I’ll consider adding a fourth wrap-up post (no promises!) to Part 3 about my less than smooth exit from Italy.

11/10/13: Part 3: Reunions in Venice was posted yesterday, but it has been removed indefinitely.  I'll replace that post with another post that I wrote here in Noordwijk, Netherlands.

And to all of you amazing friends still in Italy whom I had to bail on AGAIN… Nick, Ben, Jeremiah, Houtan, Eric, Gerardo, and pretty much everyone I know down south… we’ll have our day in the Italian sun some other time!


Coming this weekend on Garth’s Blog…


Reunions in Venice!

(11/10/13 Post removed)



And then…

Cold water surfing in Oregon with the fam!


And later this month…

Madrid, Spain:  Lena goes from nationwide to worldwide!


Monday, July 30, 2012

Tokyo Drifting 3: Fleeing Sumida

The Tokyo tokkyū limited express train is a splurge. Good thing I’m made out of Yen, right?


At last… I present the breathless (for me, anyway) final hours of last month’s quick trip to Tokyo. Will this live up to the melodramatic teaser ending from my previous Tokyo Drifting 2: Senso-ji Temple post? Let’s pretend it will.



A friend from the journey recommended that I seek a peaceful contrast to my previous evening of Tokyo nightlife craziness. Sumida Park fit the bill.

In about four hours, my flight home to Portland would depart from Narita airport. Being mindful of the time, I followed up my tour of Senso-ji Temple with a walk down to the Sumida River. The nature park that stretched alongside the river banks would be a relaxing place to unwind before beginning my train connections to the airport.

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A young Japanese gal rode up to me on her bicycle as I gazed at the flowers growing along the footpaths of Sumida Park. She must have assumed I was interested in the bike-friendly aspects of the area. We walked over to the specialized bicycle tire grooves carved into the stairway of a nearby underpass, and she enthusiastically demonstrated for me the ways of a seasoned recreational bicycler.


At some point, it finally dawned on me how long I had been standing there, struggling to understand her. In less than 10 minutes, my train was scheduled to depart from Asakusa Station. The problem: Ever since I left my capsule/hostel that morning, I had been walking AWAY from the direction of the train station.

I abruptly excused myself and began to run as though my life (or at least my job back home at Delta Airlines) depended on it. The beautiful scenery of the park blurred past as I frantically sprinted through it for several minutes. No way would I catch that train.



I leaped down the stairs of Asakusa station, clutching my small backpack and gasping for air. There was still time to catch a number of local trains to my next stop, but I had blown my connections to Narita airport. Painfully resisting my budget backpacker traveling sensibilities, I slapped down the big Yen at the kippu jidō hanbaiki kiosk to purchase a premium express train ticket, direct to Narita Airport.

The tokkyū limited express train [photo at top] sped to Narita Airport in just under an hour, which put me back on schedule.


My friend Kevin, flying home on standby from the Philippines, was waiting at the airport gate when I checked in for the nearly full flight. His boarding priority dwarfed mine. Despite shrewdly (or foolishly) using one of my S-3 low priority seating requests I was assigned one of the last seats in the Business Elite cabin before the flight doors closed, with Kevin and I onboard.

CameraZOOM-20120612145530670_orig_1.jpgAfter nearly 3 days overseas with virtually no sleep, I flew home from Tokyo in Delta's Business Elite cabin. Somehow the traditional Japanese meal course that I ordered on the flight home managed to be even better (Fresher ingredients from Japan? More irradiated?) than the one I ate on the flight over to Tokyo.

With a belly full of French caviar, crab, scallop quenelle, grilled chicken, cod roe, wasabi tofu, and marinated tuna… I slept.


Bonus pic:
DSC_0423.JPGOn Kathy's birthday, Lena plays with the Japanese toy I bought for her in Tokyo’s Nakamise-dori street fair. I hope that Lena will come along with me for my next visit to Asia this year.


Lena can pick out her own souvenir toy next time!

Friday, July 27, 2012

Intermission: Banks Lake, WA Wakeboarding (from the road)

DSC_0807_edited-1.JPG by gkhamilton
DSC_0807_edited-1.JPG, a photo by gkhamilton on Flickr.
Catching a little air with my wakeboard at Banks Lake, WA.

Sorry for the delay, folks. The conclusion to my “Tokyo Drifting” blog miniseries will be posted after one last on-location interruption. I’ll add more pics from Japan on Sunday (or Monday)-- I promise!

From last Tuesday: Another year, another annual family boating/ camping trip to Banks Lake, Washington (link). Spread out over the last six days, this vacation is coming to a close as my mom gives me a ride back to my Jeep in Beaverton.

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The Hamilton and Sorensen families have had a roller coaster ride of wild weather this week in Coulee City, but hot sunshine/wind/rain/lightning are all par for the course during any extended weekend in Eastern Washington. My solo ride over to Banks Lake was no less tumultuous:


Portland: A series of unrelated mishaps on the Portland MAX rails delayed me so much that I had to sprint across Chinatown to just barely catch my train to…

Seattle: During my train layover at Zeitgeist Coffee, I received some tragic news regarding the drowning of my friend Shawn's son, Caleb. I was so distraught that, back at the train station, I apparently blocked out the final boarding announcement for my train (it left Seattle 10 minutes ahead of schedule) to Ephrata. Out of options, I schemed with a couple of girls who also missed the train about bumming a car ride with three complete strangers to race the train to…

Everett: By recklessly weaving our way through Seattle’s rush hour traffic, my new friends and I managed to beat the train to Everett by eight minutes and climb onboard. My train car was the wildest, most out of control frat party on rails I’ve seen since our “Sound of Music” tour in Salzburg, Austria.

Ephrata: My brother-in-law Mike graciously picked me up that night and drove me the rest of the way to...

Coulee City:  The fam vacation was already in progress!

Sadly, I had to say goodbye to Kathy, Lena, Mike, and Summer when they left Coulee City on Sunday afternoon. It was also unfortunate that we had to miss our annual visit to the local First Presbyterian Church. One Sunday each year, we’ve always looked forward to mixing it up with the locals and hearing an inspired sermon from local Pastor Clifford Bresee. We’ll catch you guys next year!


Before most of the gang left us on Sunday, our 10 month old Lena had a couple of lifetime firsts:

DSC_0770.JPGLena looked stiff as a board (and oddly disabled, in some of the other shots from that day) when trying on her very first life jacket.


DSC_0745.JPGLena giggled uncontrollably as she played on a swing set for the very first time.



Summer had a few good runs on the wakeboard before heading home with most of the gang...DSC_0778_edited-1.JPG… leaving me the water toys all to myself for the rest of the vacation.  My dad drove the boat, my mom spotted from the back seat, and I played.



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I wakeboarded to my heart’s content.


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I went old school with the slalom waterski.


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I even dusted off the old knee board!

Miles of glassy smooth lake water, solitude, hot temperatures, and the friendly community of Coulee City all add up to make each Banks Lake vacation worth the long, dusty drive.

Let’s do it again next year!