I am stateside again after ten satisfying days in Japan. This trip was my third visit, and the best yet.
The +16 hour time difference continues to haunt me, as does whatever is happening in my left ear that makes my hearing come and go. I’m working on re-establishing a sleep schedule that overlaps with nighttime here. I’m also sorting out when and if to eat, which is confusing (and not helping me slim down as I’d hoped).
I had a new Chromebook with me, and so was able to organize favorite photos capturing my many interests into massive Google Photo Albums with lengthy captions about flavors, pools suitable to occupy as water spirits, and watercolors that match drying rice… and then realized that innocent colleagues will likely be overwhelmed by these details, and that I should offer something snack-sized.
So I’ve illustrated my ‘top ten’ favorite experiences from this trip. You will not be surprised that many of them relate to food. Those experiences are:
Kobe and Tokyo: Vegan and Vegetarian Foods (Food!)
Kobe: Sorakuen Garden
Kobe: Waterfalls and Emerald Streams
Tokyo: Matcha and Wagashi (Food!)
Tokyo: Tokyo Ramen Street (Food!)
Tokyo: Lotus Ponds and Temples
Tokyo: Art Supply Heavens
Tokyo: Dining in a Traditional Building (Food!)
Tokyo: Immersive Contemporary Art
Tokyo: Shrines
You can see little collages and read brief summaries of these topics in ten blog posts at the link below.
Mobilelene
Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
I’m unlikely to write a single, long travelogue entry, though I kept a diary while I was there. I’ll take more time to reflect on the trip before considering that. However, it’s safe to say that the trip exceeded all of my expectations, and went SO well that I’ve already booked flights for a 2025 return.
I used my travel time to enjoy some books, and will post about those here soonish.
Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
This year, I’ve traveled by plane three times for my career, but only once for recreation, which likely does reflect my priorities (ouch). It also feels like a lot of flying after the pandemic shelter-in-place times, even though it pales beside my old regular-commute-to-Europe phase.
This past week, I attended a conference in Las Vegas, where it reached 107 degrees outside. The conference schedule was packed and in a large hotel/conference center, which made it easy to stay engaged while hiding indoors from the heat. There were coffee and even espresso stations to help balance out the increasingly aggressive air conditioning with inner warmth. It was a good experience, and I even dreamt about new (highly sci-fi versions) of the presentations last night, so I am still processing what I experienced.
I’ve only been to Las Vegas twice, both times for this conference.
I have found it difficult to explain to friends who like Vegas why I don’t: just because I don’t enjoy drinking to excess, smoking of any kind, gambling, dressing for attention from hard-partying strangers, etc., doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with those activities. They just aren’t my cup of tea. And when it is over 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside, it isn’t like I can escape to the great outdoors – even frozen tea wouldn’t be enough to cool me to functional temperatures.
Returning home, I was filled with joy at the fog, plainly visible from the airplane, as we approached the City… It’s so good to be back in my natural habitat!
That’s a thing I should do… regularly. I am now vaguely familiar with what it means to be rested. It’s so… novel! So strange!
I posted a list of restaurants I like (despite being a gluten-free vegetarian) in Waikiki on my phone photo blog: you can find details by following the link.
Waikiki
Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
For reasons that I may/not eventually disclose, I visited Boston and Cambridge in Massachusetts this month. I wanted to get a feel for what life is like there, so I bought some new “base layers” for winter weather (!), and headed out of the Bay Area for the first time since the COVID 19 pandemic began.
Boston and Cambridge each made a good impression on me. As a happy San Franciscan heavily integrated into the fabric of my multicultural, open-minded, caffeinated City, I wasn’t sure that Boston would feel comfortable. Happily, the diverse population, reliable subway system, and great vegan food won me over!
Both towns were walkable. The subway system made sense, and my Charlie Card (their version of Clipper) made travel easy.
Each time I ate in restaurants within earshot of others, other patrons were chatting at their tables about trying to get their research funded. (A good sign!)
2021.12 Boston, Massachusetts
Photos representing my experience (casual, not too fancy, don’t get too excited)
Yes, many of the Freedom Trail sites were closed due to the pandemic, but I found other things to do. Yes, it got down to 20 degrees Fahrenheit (-6.6 Celsius?), but I was dressed very carefully (lightweight yet insulating base layers!), and I could handle it. It snowed gently, and that was kind of fun. Puddles froze and never thawed, and I caught other tourists trying to break one, which was hilarious (adults playing with puddles like children!).
I did not fill my suitcase with art books. I did not go out to take photos at night when it was below freezing. These were good decisions.
My masks were comfortable in all indoor settings, and I learned that masks are very cozy when it is snowing.
Boston and Cambridge are both booming, filled with new construction of businesses, housing, streetcar stations, and more. Infrastructure matters, and they are clearly planning for growth.
I had a good time and a positive experience.
There is an awkward/funny postscript. I was there before the omicron variant of COVID was well understood. I participate in CA Notify, which is my home state’s bluetooth exposure tracking system. While I was in Boston, my phone asked me if I want to participate in MassNotify, and I agreed.
MassNotify sent me a COVID proximity/exposure warning 8 days after my return home (and three days after my negative home test). Someone with the right combination of proximity + duration on the day before I flew home subsequently tested positive for COVID. The instructions were clear, and since I’m both vaccinated and boosted, quarantine was never required – vigilant masking is enough. I’m impressed that the system worked, even though I was just visiting! Yaay, technology!
Clouds offer a gorgeous range of landscape-like forms…
Having been unable to travel for so long due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I have a wicked case of wanderlust.
Some of my wanderlust is just caused by escapism: I’m dealing with lots of dull obligations, so the appeal of being AWAY is as alluring as the idea of specific places I may enjoy! I know myself well enough to recognize this, and am evaluating my fantasies carefully, to see what they are REALLY about.
That first solo trip was an amazing experience, but writing about it while I was sick with a persistent case of bronchitis skewed my reporting. Writing to friends who didn’t share my interests in art narrowed it further. I managed to convey the difficulties well, but not the gorgeousness of misty paths leading to ancient shrines in wet, shady forests, or the beauty of clouds clinging to mountain tops, or the satisfaction of soaking in deeply sulfurous waters… While my friends (fairly) interpreted my writing as disappointment, and I did describe negative experiences and states of mind, I still enjoy memories from that trip: of oversized leaves that fell so noisily while I sat in a forest, lush carpets of moss in a chess-board-like temple garden with stone lanterns as chess pieces, the unexpected appeal of my German hiking companion as he boarded his departing train, the hot lemon drink that warmed me when I was rain-drenched, the bliss of soaking up to my neck in deep hostel bathtubs that I didn’t describe…
The frustrations of the noisy crowds and the jostling students are also vivid, but are less important now: that wasn’t my only trip to Japan, that wasn’t my only visit to those sites in Kyoto, and my subsequent experiences at popular tourist sites mean I understand the limits of what they can and can’t offer me in a way I didn’t at the time.
That trip helped me see and accept what popular mass tourism is. I accept that there are lists of “must-see” destinations (which I don’t actually have to see), and that some of those destinations may be worthwhile if I am willing to accept the consequences of their popularity. (This has also led to my intentional photo series of tourists taking photos at crowded sites, which I enjoy making, and which are only possible due to the nature of such sites.) Accepting this helps me make more informed choices about opting-in AND opting-out. I freely do both.
*
My business travel was also highly educational. Being overseas as part of an initial team that dispersed at the end of the business day/week, leaving me unexpectedly alone in a new place, I had to orient myself, and then decided to use my newfound knowledge to orient others. I recognized and appreciated the collegiality of someone with more experience there, and ensured I repaid that collegiality when our project changed sites, and that I followed his example in general. I knew what kinds of social and logistical support I had wanted, and I provided that to those who followed.
I gave tours, and took newcomers to my favorite spots if they shared my interests; I wrote a brief visitors guide; I recommended restaurants, dishes, beer, museums, hotels; I met up for meals with colleagues who didn’t want to dine alone; I translated; I learned train lines, bought tickets, and guided colleagues to work, and in doing so, expanded the practical hotel range for a suburban office with a limited pool of hotels, so my colleagues could spend time in a world-class city rather than sit in a remote, rural hotel at night; I took colleagues on field trips… That felt GREAT! I felt useful, I made things easier, I enjoyed good company, I had good fun.
With multi-country business trips that spanned several weekends, I had a chance to learn about different approaches to exploring: about how to use hotels (the sort that are too cramped to linger in, and the sort that are a pleasure and destination of their own); how to pace myself based on my energy levels, moods, and the weather; how to go away for a weekend; and how to stay put.
Both on business and on my vacations, I learned about the complexity of traveling with others. Of how the wrong traveling companions complicate a trip, and the right ones make my experience of a destination better than I could have managed on my own. This last point is the best lesson: I do have a few friends whose company is great ON THE MOVE, and I should experience places with them more often!
I’ll now return to my daydreams (and online research and list-making) of safe and enjoyable travel, with expectations well grounded by my actual travel experiences…
Weblog by A. Elizabeth Graves. iPhone photography and links to science-y and foodie topics.
The western half of San Francisco has had a very foggy summer, which isn’t unusual, but we are confused by the consistency. Our local weather is characterized by its general mildness, sure, but also by its variability. A week may have both hot and cold days; an afternoon may have both warm and cool hours. All of the seasons may be represented during the course of any month.
Dressing for the same weather more than four days in a row feels a bit off.
Many things still feel a bit off, honestly.
The inter-COVID recovery is continuing, but is not evenly distributed. Some streets feel nearly normal, where there is a proper “street life” of locals out and about, while others feel quite abandoned, as if auditioning to be the set of a disaster film. The background rumble of the City hasn’t been fully restored, though there are days when I see traffic backed up on the Bay Bridge or on some street, and those sights are somewhat comforting. A reminder of the before-times! (While polluting traffic isn’t something to celebrate, signs of human activity, even involving vehicles, feel like a return of some kind of vibrancy, however indirect.). My streetcar filled up with schoolchildren one morning, and while it was unexpected (I haven’t been on a FULL streetcar in months), it felt like a good development.
My two friends in other regions who suffered breakthrough infections have fully recovered. My friend in month 9 of long-COVID recovery is making good progress.
My city of 800k+ people is experiencing more than 100 new test-confirmed cases daily (sfdph.org), which isn’t great, but isn’t as bad as it could be. Masking on busy streets, even while outdoors, is coming back into fashion. (I now have a wider range of mask thicknesses to get me through different activities!) My state health department says that more than 48 million of us are vaccinated, and the state’s positivity rate is dropping again (around 3.5% right now for the state; it’s just 2.3% in my City/County). For comparison, the federal Center for Disease Control (CDC) shows still-alarming national numbers (over 8% positivity).
The pandemic marks another grim milestone: 1 in 500 Americans have died of covid-19
The burden of death in the prime of life has been disproportionately borne by Black, Latino, and American Indian and Alaska Native people.
I would like to go to a COVID memorial site, or have one available locally to visit and light a candle or sit to contemplate the vast loss of life. I’m glad to read of this (albeit temporary) memorial art installation by District of Columbia artist by Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg, which is visually strong and thoughtful:
Hundreds of thousands of white flags to be placed on the National Mall to honor lives lost to covid
“In America: Remember,” created by D.C. artist Suzanne Brennan Firstenberg, will go up in September.
*
Two of my friends this week asked me when I think it will be possible to travel safely again, despite knowing I am no expert in epidemiology. (At least I’m not a musician with a cousin with a friend in Trinidad who is misrepresenting his condition?) (If you don’t know what that reference is about, you are lucky.) Maybe I’m an expert in traveling? Anyway, I can see myself traveling recreationally outside of my state again by this time in 2022 if conditions are right. In the meantime, I’m expecting more variants of concern that will need to be studied; data from the results of the mix-and-match clinical studies currently underway (to determine if we should get a different vaccine than we started with, to see if that improves our antibody levels in a useful way); and likely a booster shot based on information from all the studies going on.
I also expect that my travel considerations will be different going forward. I have a friend in New Orleans, but I won’t visit him soon, not only because of Hurricane Ida’s lingering damage, but because of infection rates and hospital availability. Any medical emergency could become fatal if hospitals are overflowing, and the lack of medical support colors my view of any destination! It would also feel wrong to visit a place where locals can’t get the vaccine. So a new list of criteria begins to form:
-low infection rates -high local/national vaccination rates -traveler vaccination requirements and testing to fly (so flying is safer) -traveler testing upon/near arrival (so tourist activities are safer) -emergency service / hospital availability -open to U.S. travelers -cultural attractions are open, operating, and accessible to visitors (note that capacity restrictions to prevent crowding during a pandemic are good and can make attractions more enjoyable; they need to be managed well, so I can know that I can get into museums and similar institutions during my visit with an easy online/mobile/kiosk reservation). -tourism is supported by local communities & their leaders (I respect local government pleas NOT TO VISIT when they are struggling) and there is a safety culture, especially for public-facing workers.
I’m sure I’ll adjust this list as circumstances change, but this all feels reasonable to me at this time. Vaccination has made me feel safer, but having friends with breakthrough infections reminds me that my perception of safety is limited, and precautions are still required.
