Postcard Received on Friday

Day Two of posting whatever postcard(s) I received in the mail the previous day.

Friday (yesterday) I received one postcard, from Machu Picchu in Peru. It's a second posting of Machu Picchu, the earlier post being one sent to my parents from here in 1978.

It is an incredible place, although it is one of the places in the world that is being loved to death - too many people trampling over the location, all attempting to be respectful but their sheer numbers are doing damage. Per the card, it sounds like they may be shutting part of it down for a while, to give it a chance to rest. Not a bad idea.

Another Way to Select A Postcard/Mystery Sender, Grand Tetons, Cusco

Well, I've run out of Caribbean Island postcards. So how to choose, how to choose?

I've decided that the next 10 days or so, I will post whatever postcards I received the day before, whether I receive one or six. Here's your chance! If you've wanted a postcard to be posted, send me one soon.

Yesterday, I received these postcards.

1. While I haven't mentioned the Mystery Sender since his/her homage(I, II, III, IV & V) a few weeks back, I am still receiving Mystery Sender postcards on an almost daily basis. This one, from the Greenbrier Military School, arrived yesterday. One of the fun things about the Mystery Sender's cards is they are always researched. In this case, we learn what was once the Greenbrier Military School (a spooky looking place from my perspective) is currently the West Virginia School of Osteopathic Medicine. Hey, it's also my first post card from West Virginia! That means there are now only seven states from which I've never received or collected a postcard. See this post for the complete list, in case anybody feels like filling in my collection.














2. My goddaughter, Jenna, is traveling around the US, taking a break from college. I remember camping once in the Grand Tetons in September. It was really really cold!




















3. My friend, Ellen, is traveling in Peru and Ecuador. This postcard arrived from Cusco, yesterday as well.

Bermuda

You don't hear much about Bermuda on the West Coast anymore. It reached its peak as a tourist destination in the 60s and 70s, and is now more of an international business center. I was surprised to read that in 2005 it had the world's highest GDP per capita. It might just be too expensive. And, it's an Atlantic, not a Caribbean, island.

The other thing you don't hear much about anymore is the Bermuda Triangle. Read about it here, as well. And finally, is the descriptor "Bermuda shorts" still in use?

The two postcards above were sent in the 80s. The message on the first, showing the traffic cop, is very funny, but it took me a minute to get it. It's a typical example of my friend Duke's sense of humor, describing the levitation capabilities of the locals. Read it!

The second was sent by my sister from her honeymoon. It reminded me of her wedding, 20 something years ago, which lasted a week and was tons and tons of fun. A very popular song at the time was the GoGos "We Got the Beat". As I recall, we played it incessantly and danced like crazy every time we did. How can that be so long ago?

Bonaire

Bonaire is the "B" in the ABC islands, and a part of Netherland Antilles like Curacao. Now, if someone would just send me a postcard of Aruba, I'd be able to feature them all. The ABC's that is.














This postcard is unusual in that I received the same card, twice, from different people. Once, from my husband when he was there diving. Then, a second time from the people with whom he had been diving originally, on a subsequent dive trip.

St. Maarten

Okay. Another island. But I posted too late to meet the 12 PM deadline for October 13. Damn. Whatever. I am not letting myself stress out. The mystery sender gave me permission to be relaxed about this, thank goodness. Thank you, mystery sender.

Blah blah blah. Here's a postcard that should have been posted with an October 13 date.

Columbus Day

Historians cannot agree on where Columbus first touched land in "The New World". Most think it was on one of the Bahamanian Islands. Columbus himself named the island "San Salvador"; however, the debate is about which island is the genuine, original San Salvador. The islands most often considered are Watlings Island (called San Salvador today), Cat Island, and Grand Turk (once also part of the Bahamas).

It is agreed that wherever he first set foot, he didn't stay there very long. In fact, this is part of what drives the debate - there is no archaeological evidence of his first foot fall. Historians do know that he established his first "colony" on Hispaniola, the island comprised of both the Dominican Republic and Haiti.

Turns out, his arrival is celebrated in a variety of ways throughout the Americas. In the US, it is known as Columbus Day; in Costa Rica, Dia de las Culturas; in the Bahamas, Discovery Day; in Uruguay, Dia de las Americas; in Venezuela, Dia de la Resistencia Indigenas; and in many other countries in the Americas, Día de la Raza (Day of the (Hispanic) Race). Additionally, many in the US prefer to call it Indigenous People's Day.

So today, in honor of Columbus Day, I offer a postcard of the Dominican Republic. Whatever you call today, even if only Monday, enjoy it!

Curacao,

Curacao is a part of the Netherland Antilles. Turns out there are six islands comprising the grouping, three in the southern Caribbean, near Venezuela, and three in the northern, near Puerto Rico. It appears to be a relatively arid island, with great diving and Dutch heritage (and therefore cultural underpinnings). It's the "C" in the ABC islands.

St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands

I have a hankering for turquoise waters, white sands, palm trees, and dive tanks. It's been a while. So, for the next few days I'm posting postcards of Caribbean Islands.

The only Caribbean Island I've visited is Puerto Rico, and I was on a business trip, so it didn't really count as an island vacation. And, I've been in the Yucatan a lot, which is the Mexican Caribbean. But somehow it's not the same.

Bucket list! Add a couple of Caribbean, South Seas, and Indian Ocean islands.

Keep On Truckin'

Which came first, R Crumb's "Keep on Truckin'" illustration or The Grateful Dead song? I don't really know but the Internet does: answer. I do remember buying R. Crumb comic books and seeing his illustrations used for a variety of purposes on dorm room, coffee house (they used to be called that), and record store walls.

My friend, Rick, who sent this card, is a talented comic illustrator, and every year sends out an annual calendar using his illustrations to chronicle the highlights of his family's year. Kinda like a Christmas letter, only better.

A Road Trip Through Oregon and Northern California

Here's something about postcards. You can take a week long road trip, not take a single picture, and still capture every place you've been and stayed.

It was time to take Clinton to University of Oregon to begin his freshman year. And, since I was driving to Eugene, Oregon anyways, I decided to make a road trip out of it. Here is how it went:

Clinton and I started off from San Francisco, Toyota van filled with clothes, lacrosse gear, bedding, towels, desk supplies, computer, etc. While we weren't stuffed to the gills, we were very full. As Clinton and I always do, we listened to music on his Ipod, while he quizzed me constantly about who the singer/band was, being very critical if I couldn't remember or didn't know.







On the way up, we stopped in Weed at the base of Mount Shasta to visit our friend, Rob. He has a native plants nursery, Menzies Natives, and served as officiant for our wedding. As Clinton said, Rob is the most interesting person he's ever met. Rob graciously offered his home as a stopping point for Clinton if he ever needed it during a drive to/from Eugene/San Francisco.

(Postcard is of Mt. Shasta)





Clinton's dorm is directly across the street from Hayward Field, the track stadium at University of Oregon. We were among the first into the dorm, unpacked and organized by 12 PM. After one more visit to Bed, Bath & Beyond, where there was an amazing amount of U of O/Ducks gear, I tearfully but bravely left Clinton on his own and headed toward Bend.

(Postcard is of Hayward Field)














An incredible drive over the McKenzie Pass, on a scenic highway that is closed to traffic in the winter. It was a bit too early for fall colors, but it was clear that within a couple of weeks, it would be spectacular. Actually, it was a beautiful drive even without the fall colors.

I was headed to see some friends from high school, who married early and have lived in Bend for 30 years in a house they built on the Deschutes River. It was my friend's birthday and her daughter had invited three of us to come to Bend to surprise her. While I wasn't a surprise, having planned to stop there after dropping Clinton off anyways, I was a good red herring and when the other friends showed up, one from NYC and another from San Francisco, our friend was flabbergasted. We had an incredible time, talking and laughing, hiking and laughing, eating and laughing. Nothing, nothing, nothing beats a couple of days with old friends.

(Postcard is of Bend)

On Saturday, we drove to Hood River, to the house of my friend's daughter, for a birthday barbecue.

I had talked my mom into flying to Portland, and visiting with a friend of hers in The Dalles, 20 minutes from Hood River, with the idea that we would then drive down the Oregon and California Coast together.

After a nice bbq in Hood River, and an evening in a motel in Hood River where the owner had been murdered the week before (a little bit unsettling, to say the least), I picked up my mom and we headed south.

(Postcard is of Vista House, overlooking the Columbia River Gorge where Hood River and The Dalles are situated)


First stop, University of Oregon, so my mom could see the campus where Clinton will spend the next four years. He was excited and tired (perhaps a bit hungover?) from the previous day's football game (U of O beat Cal terribly, I'm sorry to say), and we had a very short tour of the campus, took him to lunch, and were on our way.

(Postcard is of some buildings on U of O campus)




We had a reservation at the "Old Town Inn", and while "Inn" is a bit of an overstatement, it is a well run place. Florence is a port town (the Willamette River dumps into the ocean here) and a gateway to the Oregon Dunes State Parks. After a walk in the wind on the river jetty, we had a fantastic dinner at a local place, Side Street Bistro, and a great night's sleep.

(Postcard is of hotel - Freebie!)







We got up early, so we could spend some time investigating the dunes before breakfast. If you like sand at all, you will love the dunes. They are nothing short of spectacular. In some parts, they are sand and sand and sand; in others, you can see where the pines and the sand do daily battle for dominance. Parts are off limits to motorized vehicles; other areas are replete with dune buggies and the tracks of three- and four-wheel ATVs. After a morning spent climbing up the sides of the dunes, you definitely feel it in your calves.

(Postcard is of Oregon Dunes, and in the shape of the state of Oregon. See other postcards in state shapes here and here.)

It's a bit unsettling at first, driving the Oregon and Northern California coast. As you come into towns, especially those on the mouths of rivers, you see a sign: "Entering Tsunami Danger Zone". Perhaps these signs have always been there, but after the tsunami in Asia a couple of years ago, they are a lot more noticeable. In any case, it's somehow comforting when at last you enter the Redwood Forests, after much driving on the coast.














We drove the van through the Drive Through Redwood, with less than inches to spare on either side. For as majestic as the redwoods are, there's a fair amount of kitschy road side attractions: the drive through tree, the houses made of a single tree, and more. We had hoped to reach Mendocino that night, but we had had too much fun indulging our every whim, checking out random places that appealed to us, pulling off into scenic vistas, and climbing sand dunes.

Around 6 PM, we drove into Garberville. Definitely a Humboldt County town, with more hippies with back packs than I've seen in a while. As we drove around, trying to figure out where we might stay, the name "Benbow Inn" came up. My mom kept saying, "that sounds familiar". We checked, they had a room, so we headed that direction. As we pulled up, my mom realized she had stayed there as a little girl, probably at the age of eight or nine, during the 1930s, 70 years before.

The Benbow Inn is on the Eel River, which twists and turns its way through Humboldt County. The only time I'd been on the Eel River before was when we went to the Reggae on the River Festival, 15 or so years ago - a lot different than a stay at the Benbow Inn. This is a hotel to go back to, a destination for a road trip, a place to spend a lazy afternoon on the deck or a luxurious evening in the dining room and lobby.















(Postcards are of Benbow Inn)




The next day, we decided to have breakfast in Mendocino, about two hours from Benbow. And while this wasn't exactly the direct route home, there was a stretch of Highway 1 I'd never driven, from Legget to Fort Bragg, so we did. It was a beautiful, clear, still, sunny, early fall day on the coast. We had our breakfast in Mendocino, wandered around a bit and then headed to the Oakland Airport via the Anderson Valley for my mom's 5 PM plane.

I was back in my own bed that night.

And Now For Something Completely Different

A wooden postcard!

It appears to have been made of birch wood (at least that's what the back says) and doesn't seem to have cost any more than a regular letter, postage wise. Over the years, I've seen coconuts mailed from Hawaii, sand from beaches all over the world taped to the back of a postcard, and a lock of some rock star's hair encased in plastic on a postcard.

Kinda cool, actually.

Hotel Relais Christine - The Best Hotel in Paris

Unlike the "Worst Hotel I Ever Stayed In", the entryway to the Hotel Relais Christine belies what waits beyond.

As you walk through the low-ceilinged, slightly damp, cobblestoned archway pictured above into the hotel courtyard, the sound of a wheeled suitcase is loud, self-conscious, and distracting. And after a three hour Eurostar ride from London, and a cab; or a five hour flight from Athens, and a cab; or a seven hour flight from New York, and a cab; or an eleven hour flight from San Francisco, and a cab, all you want is your room and a shower.

But the pathway is a tunnel of transformation, and as you enter the courtyard, the jet lag, the white noise, the "Lost in Translation" spaciness begins to melt away. You feel, at last, that this is the Paris of dreams: a small hotel, a solicitous concierge, a communal space that is more living room than lobby with a fireplace and an honor bar, long narrow corridors leading to a small but beautifully Parisian room, a bathroom that is about bathing, and a separate room for the toilet. Ahhhh.

I found this hotel by accident, recommended by a colleague in London and was lucky enough to stay here five or six times.

Once with my mom, who flew from Los Angeles to meet me here at the start of ten days in Europe together. She arrived before I did, and was laughing so hard when she opened the door to our room for me, I wondered if this was how jet lag affected her. But no. She had only just found the toilet, after an evening spent wondering how a bidet worked as a, ahem, receptacle for #2.

Another time, I desperately needed a haircut. The hotel sent me around the corner, and there the hairdresser, who spoke no English and I, who speaks only a little French, concocted one of the best haircuts I've ever had.

The last time I stayed there was in the early Fall with my husband. He arrived from Brussels, I from Athens. This perfect weekend included a trip to Versailles and an incredible dinner at a place around the corner from the hotel. Roger Le Grenouille (Roger the Frog) specializes in, surprise surprise, frog legs. There were only five or six tables of us and we were the only Americans there. At some point, the proprietor decided he had enough guests for the evening, closed and locked the doors, and proceeded to hand out hats all around. The food was good (frog legs taste like chicken) and the French-only music got louder and louder. There was a French family celebrating a birthday and the owner led us all in singing and dancing after dinner was done, and not just to wish the celebrant "happy birthday". We ended the night sitting in a booth in the back with the owner and the chef, snifter of cognac in hand. It was probably the most fun I've ever had in a restaurant.

The hotel seems to be a little fancier (there didn't used to be a spa) and a lot more expensive (although it was never cheap). No matter. Someday, I'll go back.

Hanoi, Vietnam

[Oops. Thought I had posted this yesterday, but I hadn't. In any case.....]

It's been over 30 years, but I still can't hear the words "Hanoi" without it bringing up a whole host of memories and feelings around the Vietnam War, and the images and the news and the songs and the discussions of that time.

It's supposed to be fantastic, and I'd like to go there someday. My friend, Sudha, who sent the postcard writes, "It reminds me of Calcutta 40 years ago." She was on her way back to San Francisco from India.

A note on Sudha. She is a world renowned designer who, through her work with local artisans and craftsmen, has helped revive age old crafts that were near extinction. She was engaged in fair trade practices before they were even called that.

If you live in the Bay Area, she will be hosting her 7th annual "Sudha Sale" the first two weekends in November in the Corte Madera Shopping Center, benefitting Bread & Roses and The Redwoods in Marin County. I've sent many friends to this sale in the past who have always been thrilled with the merchandise, the prices, and the fact that all proceeds go to two worthy organizations.

Wellington, New Zealand

Went to Wellington on a business trip.

Arrived about 8 AM, and went straight to the Saatchi offices to begin working on a new business pitch. This is not easy after a 20 hour flight which also crosses the international date line. I do remember stopping in Aukland before flying to Wellington, and there being a shower in the business class lounge that was more like a bathroom in somebody's home than a public shower. There was a bar of soap, a couple of towels hanging on racks that, to be honest, looked like they might already have been used. I was so tired and so grungy from flying so long, I didn't care. I just used what was there.

Saatchi Wellington was (is?) a great office, with smart and creative people, an interesting art collection, and a committed team. We worked like dogs for two days, gave a killer pitch and ended up winning the business. When finished, they held a little reception for me. The head of the office said I was the first person who had ever showed up from "headquarters" saying "I'm here to help" and actually did. I think it was the most appreciated I ever felt in business.

Unc

An interesting phenomenon has emerged since I started posting postcards: people are not only sending me more postcards, but they are also giving me postcards they've saved, for whatever reasons. This one is my favorite so far.

Unc. Uncle Ed. My mother's brother. The definition of cool uncle. He lived in a variety of incredible places: the Hollywood hills in the 60s; Corona Del Mar, El Morro (best body surfing spot on the So Cal coast, according to many) and Laguna Beach in the 60s/70s; Palm Springs until his death early in the 21st century. Our family stayed more than once in all of them, and he always made us feel welcome. He looked like Elvis Presley in his youth, only handsomer. He was a safe harbor for me in my teens, and when I got married, ferried all my bridesmaids around in a Winnebago, decked out with huge paper flowers from a Mexican wedding store. When he walked into a room, all the bridesmaids would chant, "Unc. Unc. Unc." I'm pretty sure he loved it.

He sent this card to his parents when he was away at camp, probably at the age of 8 or 9. My cousin sent it to me. It evoked all sorts of wonderful memories and melancholy feelings, which is why it is one of my favorites to date.

Another Defunct San Francisco Institution

Anybody remember Hamburger Mary's at 12th & Folsom?

The very first week I moved to San Francisco circa 1982, a group of us from the ad agency went here for lunch one day. It was my initial immersion in classic pre-AIDs San Francisco - a place filled with the entire gamut of the then (and I suppose now, to a certain extent, but not so dot com) SOMA scene - leather boys, pierced and tattooed women and men, hippie-types, business people, tourists, gays and straights, all elbow to elbow in a place jammed with a cacophony of random paraphernalia. From the people watching to the paraphernalia, it was never ever a boring place. Even the creamers on the tables were baby bottles rather than metal pitchers.

Bloody Mary was across the street from The Stud, which, apart from the roving underground clubs, was a dancing haunt for me, pre-kids. I ate hamburgers here late at night, after dancing. I had a Bloody Mary here one afternoon when I was trying to get up the nerve to go into a leather store with two lesbian friends for a discrete purchase. (One had a crush on me and wanted me to try stuff on.) A really fun place, a San Francisco institution at the time, and one I hadn't thought of for a while.

Amazingly, there are reviews on Yelp for this place, even though it has been closed for years.

Elephants in Zimbabwe

One thing I've noticed about most postcards from Africa: they name a country, but the pictures are most often of animals. Not that I wouldn't want to see elephants, lions, rhinos, hippopotami, zebras, giraffes, etc. in the wild. But all these animal photos give the impression that Africa is one big savannah, with lots of animals all over the place. What about the people? The cities? The terrain? Mount Kilimanjaro? I know postcards exist with non-animal images, but most of the ones I've received seem to feature animals.