1 Carry On, 1 Personal Item, 1 Checked Bag: Under 50 Pounds... GO!

Sometimes I do this thing I call over-anticipating, which basically consists of preparing for things far earlier than is reasonable. This is why I began packing for London a few days ago and also why my room is going to be cluttered with half-packed suitcases for the next month or so.

All I can really say about the process of packing for a year (or possibly forever) abroad is that it's not going especially well. The problems are as follows:

1. London is not known for being warm, which means that I have to pack heavy things like coats and sweaters and boots. Don't get me wrong, I love all of these types of clothing, but their weight does make it a bit difficult to stay under the 50-pound limit for a checked bag.

2. I want to bring everything I own. This is not possible.

3. But how am I supposed to make my room look warm and welcoming if I can't bring all 12 of my candles?

4. Also, how am I supposed to dress well if I don't have all of my clothes? And won't the clothes I leave behind miss me? Of course they will. Of course.

5. The internet has failed in providing me with a comprehensive guide to packing for a move to a major European city. I concede that packing guides for moving abroad do exist, but they seem to fall into two not-very-helpful categories, namely (a) packing guides for grown-ups with that elusive thing called disposable income and (b) packing guides for study abroad students with a definite return date. The former is unhelpful because I can't afford to bring five checked bags (one for books alone!), and the latter is unhelpful because I will probably never move back home. This means that in not taking something with me, I could very well be forever relinquishing my claim on it.

So the question remains: How does a 22-year-old recent college graduate pack for a move to London, where she would like to dress stylishly and have a well-decorated bedroom? Let us furthermore stipulate that buying replacements for everything that was left behind is not an option.

I guess I'll just have to write the comprehensive guide myself. Fine, then. Fine.

Hometown Touristing

Sometimes I wonder if my use of the word "hometown" to describe Ann Arbor is a misnomer. I was born here but didn't grow up here; I attended college here but moved back into my parents' house directly following graduation. I suppose this is really an issue of not quite knowing where I live anymore. Is my home where I'm living at the moment? The "permanent address" I list on official forms? The place I'm moving to in about two months? Honestly, I think the answer is none of these - not entirely anyway. This is the summer of self-imposed rootlessness. You see, I could have a place that I fully consider my home, but I'm choosing not to, mainly for fear of becoming too attached to something I have to leave. 

This is getting too sad. 

Regardless, I'm back in Ann Arbor for a few days, and I'm just now realizing how much I missed this place. I missed being surrounded by people my own age; I missed the abundance of coffee shops, the student-oriented restaurants, the campus buildings - practically all of which I can point to and say, "I had a class in there once." The benefit of being back here without any real purpose is that I can finally do all the things I was too busy for while still a student. It's going to be Tourist Day, Part 2. What is Tourist Day? Well, allow me to explain.

A Brief History of the Original Tourist Day: this is a holiday that my friend and I celebrated when we had officially completed all of our college classes. Basically it consisted of walking around, taking pictures of everything even slightly meaningful, eating in a restaurant we both love but never really go to, and trying a new coffee shop. The logic behind it is kind of obvious: we wanted to do the fun things in this town before leaving it forever. Not that we didn't have any fun during four years of college...

As the shirt above may have informed you, Ann Arbor is not entirely real. This doesn't mean that it's a cardboard city they disassemble every night (although I'm convinced that those exist - some towns are just too perfect), it just means that Ann Arbor doesn't have things like bad neighborhoods - at least not that I've seen - and the city's general population tends to be fairly young and well-educated. It's something of an anomaly. And, yes, sometimes I do feel like I spent my college years living in a fantasy world. Not that I'm complaining. 

I must say that a fantasy world appears more fantastical when you are free of all responsibility, and during those first few minutes of Tourist Day sightseeing, Ann Arbor looked ridiculously beautiful.

This is Nickels Arcade. I once heard that there aren't many of these left in the world, although I can't seem to find confirmation on the internet. Oh, internet, why do you fail me just when I need you most? Kidding, kidding. 

Most of Tourist Day consisted of wandering around, since there turned out to be very little actual sightseeing to be done in a city where I had lived for four years. Still, we did hit some tourist sites: the Arcade, the Cube (see below), the graffiti alley (likewise). 

The Cube. It spins. 

The Graffiti Alley

For me, though, the highlight of Tourist Day was, of course, the food. We went to Fritas Batidos, which is one of my favorite Ann Arbor restaurants. My roommates and I call it "The Cuban Place," although it apparently isn't a Cuban restaurant - just Cuban-inspired - and I sometimes call it "That White Place" because it's very white inside. Have a look:

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I have only ever ordered one thing here: the black bean frita with muenster cheese. I don't need to try anything else on the menu because this meal is perfect. It's basically a black bean burger served on a brioche roll with fries on the inside. Yes, the fries are part of the sandwich. And I know that this sounds like a fairly ordinary meal, but just trust me, there's something about it. Something addictive. Something that will keep you awake the night before a trip to Fritas Batidos thinking about it. Sadly, during this trip to Ann Arbor, I don't expect to make a return trip there. I can't afford such luxuries as restaurant food. I guess these are the trials of recent graduate/future grad student life. 

Don't pay too much attention to me. I'm just being melodramatic. 

San Francisco Day 4

Imagine you get on a city bus in America and you get off in America. Well, yeah, obviously. Then imagine that you go inside a fairly ordinary-looking shopping center, and suddenly you're in Japan. Or at least you're in some version of Japan - perhaps a Japanese mall with a heavy American influence. And everything is adorable. Seriously, they even sell a brand of sponges called "Colorfulness."

Welcome to Daiso. This was my first stop in Japantown, and I went into major must-acquire-all-the-cute-things mode. Strawberry-printed travel fork-and-spoon set? Yes, please. Checkered lunch boxes? Kitchen sponges shaped like slices of cake? Never before had I realized just how wonderful Japanese things are. And the best part? Almost everything was only $1.50! I was incredibly satisfied with my purchase of a heart-shaped ladle and a panda laundry hanger. 

I think this captures my enthusiasm for the Japan Center. 

An interior shot. Note the cherry trees. 

When we left the Japan Center, however, we quickly realized that there is actually a relatively limited Japanese influence in Japantown. Lots of trendy boutiques? Yes. Japanese shops and restaurants? Not so much. I didn't mind and was just happy to explore another neighborhood, but my sister, who's something of a Japan enthusiast, was disappointed.

Since trendy boutiques tend to be somewhat out of our price range, we decided to take a bus over to Ocean Beach and have lunch at a restaurant overlooking the water. The Beach Chalet had a beautiful ocean view, delicious food (I had the seasonal vegetable risotto), and excellent brewed-on-location beer. I absolutely loved my chocolate porter. 

The ocean view

After lunch we stopped by Haight-Ashbury, and I learned that hippie must have turned into hipster sometime in the past 40-ish years. If I remember correctly, there were approximately two vintage clothing stores per block, a few record stores, quite a few coffee shops, and lots and lots of tourists. Something tells me that the area has changed a bit since the Summer of Love.

Now I could give you a play-by-play of the events of our final night in San Francisco, but since it consists mostly of dinner and a hunt for dessert, I'll spare you the details. What I will say, though, is that I saw a lot of San Francisco in only three-and-a-half days. Of course my knowledge of this city isn't on the level of a local's knowledge, but I can navigate the public transportation system; I know a few good restaurants; I know a few neighborhoods that I find fun/interesting/aesthetically pleasing. And, really, don't we travel to learn about new places? I think I succeeded. 

San Francisco Day 3

Midway through the bus ride to the Marin Headlands, my hands started sweating, which signified our rather close proximity to some very dramatic hills, and with dramatic hills come steep drop-offs, and with steep drop-offs comes the assumption that the bus will drive off the cliff. This is just how my mind works. And, yes, I know that I must have looked terrified when the bus was winding through the hairpin curves. And, yes, I know that other people noticed my obvious fear and were probably silently mocking me. Don't worry, I'm used to silent mocking. Still, this was the most spectacular public bus ride I have ever taken, and despite my transportation anxiety, I'm sure it was actually quite safe.

You don't get views like this on just any bus ride.

San Francisco transportation tip (in case you'd like to see how scary this bus ride is for yourself): the San Francisco Municipal Railway sells passports, which allow unlimited rides on busses and the very popular cable cars for $7 per day. Considering the fact that a single cable car ride normally costs $6, the passport is an incredibly good deal. All you have to do is show it to the driver when you get on a bus/cable car. 

After the bus ride, we took a ferry to Sausalito, and on the way saw excellent views of San Francisco.

SF from the ferry. Also, a sailboat!

The first thing you should know about Sausalito is that its main street is primarily a place for tourists to eat and shop, and, as is common in resort towns, nearly every restaurant seems to have a menu offering everything from pasta to burritos. Since my mid-afternoon hunger was setting in, I was grateful for this variety. So many choices! So many food smells! I talked a lot about food smells during this trip. I don't know why.

Anyway, we decided to get lunch at the Bridgeway Cafe, and I had a bean burrito. This was good because I hadn't had a bean burrito in days, and I was about to start experiencing withdrawal symptoms. I eat a lot of bean burritos, and this one was among the best because it was made with avocado. Avocado! In a bean burrito! Unprecedented.

After lunch, we did a bit of shopping, and thus concludes our relatively brief interlude in Sausalito. My impressions: very pretty, good food, very touristy, with quite an impressive selection of tourist shirts. I even ended up buying one - something I don't think I've done in 8 years. Side note: the entire time I was in Sausalito, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was actually in Saugatuck, Michigan. Regional variation is possibly dead.

Now, onward with this fairly disjointed post!

Since our third day in San Francisco was the Fourth of July, naturally we went to see American Idiot at the Orpheum Theater. Naturally. And it was... interesting. I liked the music, the energy, the set design (lots of TV screens - I thought it made a strong statement about the influence of the media in our culture). I appreciated the attempt to portray the challenges of growing up, of trying to do something new or different or important and finding that nothing is ever as straightforward as originally planned. However, I really, really wanted to see more character development. All of the main characters could have been much more complex, but it seemed like I never saw anything beyond the most superficial traits. It's not that I disliked any of the characters; I just thought they needed more depth. If you like Green Day's music, though, and you don't mind a non-traditional play, you will probably like American Idiot. And, seriously, there was no better way to spend the night of the Fourth of July than seeing American Idiot.

And, yes, while watching the play, I did acknowledge that I am fortunate to live in a country where I can watch a fairly anti-American play on Independence Day. But I prefer to laugh at the irony. What a hipster.

San Francisco Day 2

I'll spare you the part of this day that consists of me going to the UK visa application office and getting fingerprinted. If you're actually interested, though, click the link. Is it considered bad form to link to your own blog posts? Is it like I'm saying, "The only things worth reading are the things I've written! HAHAHAHA. Here, why don't you read more of my ramblings? Read more."? 

I digress. 

The upside to doing bureaucratic things on vacation was that it took me into a new section of San Francisco. Granted, the area around the visa office was really boring, and the boring part was adjacent to a few sketchy blocks of strip clubs, but once we got past all of that, we found ourselves in an extremely interesting, garlic-scented Italian-Chinese wonderland. I believe it's called North Beach. Or maybe Chinatown. I had a hard time determining where one neighborhood ends and another begins. 

The European...

And the Chinese! All within probably 5 minutes of each other.

Clearly some exploration was in order.

So we looked at Chinese markets.

And stopped for the best bubble tea I've ever tasted. What made it the best? Well, unlike the bubble tea places at home, this place lets you add your own bubbles and jellies, allowing you to get to tea to tapioca to jelly ratio exactly right. Maybe this is standard practice in San Francisco, but not in Michigan, so I was impressed. 

After a quick Italian lunch, we climbed Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower, where we saw views of the Golden Gate Bridge.

And Alcatraz.

And this guy. My sister and I named him Griswold. 

Then we walked over to Lombard Street, which, contrary to popular belief, is not the crookedest street in the world. That honor actually goes to Vermont Street. But, still, Lombard Street, was impressively crooked. 

For dinner, we went to a cafe and crepery called Honey Honey, and all of our meals were delicious. My mom and I had black bean chili; my sister had a peanut butter crepe; my dad had shrimp pasta. In addition to the food, I really enjoyed Honey Honey's atmosphere. Unlike a lot of restaurants that serve trendy food (tofu sandwich, anyone?) Honey Honey felt unpretentious. What this means is that the staff were friendly and didn't scoff at my order. (What? You like bean soup and beer? How very mainstream.) Okay, maybe no one has actually said anything quite like that to me, but trust me, you can tell when hipsters are judging you. After years of living among the hipsters, I find it very refreshing to go to a restaurant, order my stylishly-presented food, and not feel socially awkward for hours afterward. 

All in all, an excellent day. 

An Introduction to San Francisco

The first thing I learned in San Francisco is that I'm not very cool. I mean, I'm 22 years old and I still go on vacation with my parents. Even my parents admit that it's a bit pathetic, and at one point in the trip, my mom actually said that I'll never again convince her that I'm young enough to be included in the family vacation. 

Still, I had fun. At least five people mistook me for a teenager. I wore horribly impractical shoes. I became a very "good" photographer of fire escapes. And, most importantly, I decided that someday I will write a series of travel books entitled "Horrible Tourist," and they will tell the story of my life. Seriously, after climbing Telegraph Hill (apparently it's touristically significant) instead of taking pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge like everyone else, I laid down because I was wearing heels and my feet hurt.

Fire Escape Photography - My latest hipstery enthusiasm

But let's start from the beginning.

We checked into the Hotel Monaco, and it instantly won me over by offering an iced-tea-apple-juice blend in the lobby. The seduction (yeah) continued when I discovered the unlimited complimentary wine served for one hour each night. Not to mention that all guests here have the option of cohabitating with a goldfish for the duration of their stay. I named mine Leviathan.

The Room

Leviathan! 

Having checked into the hotel, it was time to remedy the I-have-eaten-mostly-cookies-today situation. We selected the King of Thai for our first night dinner, and, oh, what a dinner it was. I should probably disclose here that I am something of an expert on Pad Thai, having eaten it in essentially every Thai restaurant I have ever visited, and this was some of the best - if not the best - Pad Thai I have ever tasted. The shrimp to vegetable to noodle to spice ratio was perfect. Other selling points: they have authentic Thai beer, you can order comically large, mixing-bowl-sized bowls of soup, and no one judges you if you're not very good at using chopsticks. Of course forks are available too. 

Giant Soup!

After dinner we decided to be boring and go back to our room and sleep. Thus concludes my first night in San Francisco.

To be continued...

How to Pack Within Reason*

* Or, more accurately, how to pack for a relatively short trip to a city, where you want to look cool without having to carry a ridiculously heavy bag through the airport. Also note that this packing advice really only applies to women. I've seen men pack, and they have an unfairly easy time of it - I mean, unless they are the rare men who have special attachments to their clothing.

Anyway, I guess the first piece of relevant information is that I'm going to San Francisco for the first time. The second piece of relevant information is that I am a relatively terrible packer. I always just barely manage to fit everything I "need" into a carry-on, and even then I have to re-fold everything at least three times to make it fit. For this trip I decided to do something different. I decided to try to be a good packer. Will I succeed?

Here are the items I have selected:

Okay, I know I'm not a great photographer, and I'll spare you the list of all the things I'm bringing. I think, though, that I have learned some packing strategies.

1. Pick solid-colored clothing. It's easier to combine these into multiple outfits. For example, I'm only packing two skirts and three shirts, but I've determined that (combined with the things I'm wearing on the plane) I can make at least 8 outfits with these items.

2. Wear bulkier clothes and layers on the plane. If you want jeans, sweaters, boots, etc. (all of which I usually want on trips) wear these one the plane. And the added benefit in this strategy? If it's cold on the plane, you'll have a sweater, and if it's too hot, you can use the sweater as a pillow. Another added benefit? I've noticed that airlines are getting stingier about providing pillows and blankets, but if you wear a sweater and a relatively large scarf, you're wearing your pillow and blanket. This strategy made my recent trip to London infinitely more comfortable.

3. Pack lots of accessories. My choices: scarves, belts, colorful tights, jewelry. These things don't take up much space in a bag, and they disguise the fact that you're wearing the same clothes everyday.

4. Be prepared to take some fashion risks. You're going to have a limited number of things, so if you want variety in your outfits, you may need to combine them in ways you've never considered before. Also, if you're going to wear something more riskily trendy than usual, why not do it somewhere where no one knows you? I mean, colored jeans with a non-neutral shirt? Does this scare me slightly? Oh, yes, but the internet says it's acceptable, even stylish. And if it turns out to be a total failure of an outfit? Well, I know no one in San Francisco, and no one in San Francisco knows me. So if I look stupid, any judgements I incur will be completely inconsequential. Fine, mostly inconsequential. The Moment of Judgement is humiliating in every situation.