tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3686012401247865152024-02-07T23:42:04.044-08:00Fast Food and Worn TiresTales from the road, recounted state by state...and now, country by country.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-39990002329829274912017-11-27T15:52:00.002-08:002018-06-15T11:23:49.408-07:00San Diego, Part 1: Downtown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After twelve years of California dreaming, I moved to San Diego in June of 2017, along with Mrs. Tires (my wife, Leanne) and Trike (our 2 year old son, Jacoby). Our new hometown has afforded us many sun-kissed opportunities to explore our new surroundings. This blog will focus on downtown San Diego, an exemplary microcosm of the city itself. Subsequent posts will cover the natural beauty of La Jolla, the culture and nature of Balboa Park, and more spots to visit throughout San Diego.<br />
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Here are some of my favorite places to visit in downtown San Diego.<br />
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<h3>
Waterfront Park</h3>
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Between the sparkling waters of the San Diego Bay and the shiny glass windows of the business section of downtown lies a wide open field of grass, an art deco playground and an ankle high splash pool fed by high powered water cannons. During my brief stint as a stay at home dad, I learned pretty quickly that it can get scorching hot in the middle of the summer in SD. When temperatures rose, Waterfront Park became the go-to spot for me and Trike to beat the heat. The centerpiece of this downtown park is a series of water jets that spray water into a shallow splash pool. With depths topping off at four inches, this is a great play area for toddlers. Older kids love the jets themselves, which emit water with enough force to launch small toys into the air. There's also plenty of concrete to climb on to add some adventure in between splash downs. </div>
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Between the splash pool and the San Diego harbor sits a large, flat field of grass that's perfect for picnics, sunbathing, throwing a ball around or flying a kit. </div>
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On the other side of the splash pool sits one of the largest and best playgrounds in all of San Diego. The equipment here could be mistaken for modern art if it wasn't so inviting to climb on. In addition to the expansive series of metal rods and climbing rope, the playground offers several slides, some swings, and a climbing hill complete with hand rails for the way up and slides for the way down. </div>
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The Embarcadero</h3>
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Due west of Waterfront Park sits the northern end of the Embarcadero, a series of ships, ports, and shopping areas along Harbor Drive that pay tribute to the great servicemen and women who have served our country, especailly those who have called San Diego home. A pedestrian walking path connects each of the attractions on this strip, and visitors are treated to a wonderful view of the San Diego Bay as they stroll. In addition to the big ships, there are several monuments to fallen soldiers and foreign wars, as well as street performers and merchants. Trike and I took in the views as we walked the Embarcadero from north to south on a beautiful July day. </div>
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At the Embarcadero's northern-most tip sits a collection of interconnected boats that make up the <a href="https://sdmaritime.org/" target="_blank">Maritime Museum of San Diego</a>. A yacht, sail boats, a swift boat, submarines and more make up this impressive and intriguing site. There's a series of exhibits on some of the boats, and visitors can also tour the boats themselves. While we've yet to visit the museum, Trike and I were both quite intrigued when we walked by, and we will definitely be back soon to check it out. </div>
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Perhaps the most intriguing ship on the water is the Star of India. Its sails and masts stand out in a literal sea of beauty. The ship first set sail in 1863, making it the oldest active sailing ship. Maritime Museum admission includes a chance to tour the Star of India, but they're wise to display this beauty of a vessel on its own. </div>
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As Trike and I continued on past a couple of long piers used to load and unload cruise ships, the star of the show emerged. The USS Midway is a huge aircraft carrier that houses <a href="http://www.midway.org/" target="_blank">USS Midway Museum</a>. </div>
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I've yet to go inside, but from what I can gather, its another case of the ship itself being the museum, while also offering related exhibits and a sampling of many different types of military aircraft. If the fake people sitting on the back of the ship are any indication, there are a few surprises in there, too. </div>
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South of the Midway sits a grassy peninsula that boasts two of the more artful and amusing features of the Embarcadero. The first one is hard to miss, as it's 25 feet tall. The Unconditional Surrender sculpture was inspired by the famous photo of a soldier kissing a woman after returning at the end of WWII. The piece is enchanting, and one can't help but be drawn to it. It's bright colors and grand scale seem out of character in a place that takes the task of honoring veterans so seriously, but nonetheless, it really is a sight to behold. </div>
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The second of the more engaging tributes to the military is a bit more tucked away further down the peninsula, but is definitely worth the extra steps. The Bob Hope statue (which is officially called <i>A National Salute to Bob Hope and the Military</i>) is not one statue, but several all joined together to commemorate the entertainment Bob Hope provided to our military over the years. Something about the way the tribute is laid out and the way the individuals portrayed seem to be interacting with each other makes this monument feel alive. It's a must-see. </div>
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The Embarcadero ends at Seaport Village, a quaint and perfectly manicured cluster of restaurants, shops and amusements. Its a big departure from the focus on the military found elsewhere on the Embarcadero, but it makes for a great stroll, with a pristine boardwalk surrounding the area. There's also an old-timey carousel, which gives you a nice long ride for your $3 ticket and goes much faster than anticipated. </div>
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All in all, the Embarcadero is a fantastic place to explore. Its sparkling bay, variety of ships, and occasional quirkiness make it appeal to locals and tourists, young and old. </div>
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<h3>
Petco Park</h3>
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San Diego is a fantastic adopted home for a <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/p/stadium-chasing.html">stadium chaser</a> like me, because Petco Park is one of the best parks in all of baseball. It offers lots to see and do, plenty of food and drink options, and a great overall experience including good wayfinding, wide aisles and friendly staff. Trike and I wasted no time in visiting this park, as we caught a game a week and a half after we moved to San Diego. Mrs. Tires joined us for our second visit on Labor Day in 2017.<br />
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Petco Park is a staple of downtown San Diego, and it integrates with the city extremely well. Most of the seats face part of San Diego's skyline, and an old manufacturing building is actually part of the stadium.<br />
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Additionally, some of Petco is open to the public on non-game days. This includes my favorite feature of Petco Park, the Park at the Park. This open area affords a wide open view of the stadium and lots of open grass including a hill that leads up to a statue of Padre great Tony Gwynn.<br />
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There's also a playground, a baseball field for kids and some teaser features of the Padres Hall of Fame.<br />
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Trike also loves Park in the Park. We visited the playground and park on a couple of non-game days. Trike jumped at the chance to drive his toy cars around Tony Gwynn's statue. Many of the parents there are baseball fans, making the playground chatter a bit more engaging than usual for fellow fans.<br />
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The experience from the seats is a blast. It's easy to get around, the chairs are comfortable, and since the Padres generally stink, there's a good chance you'll have room to spread out. Between-inning entertainment, music and amusements keep the crowd energized. These can be somewhat irksome to a serious fan, but they keep the crowd engaged and the kiddos entertained, so all good there. Add some sunshine and a great view of both the field and the city from almost any seat in the house, and you've got a damn fine place to catch a ballgame.<br />
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Food-wise, Petco Park is a conundrum. They've got most of the things you want in stadium fare, including wild new concoctions, contributions from award winning local chefs, and a huge selection of craft beer. However, they're missing any sort of signature dish, and I haven't found any of the food to be a home run, or even a ground rule double. When we went on Labor Day, I tried the Tri Tip Nachos at Seaside Market, a significant pile of tri tip steak, BBQ sauce, sour cream and chives on a bed of tortilla chips. It was a tasty meal, but there were too many competing flavors and it quickly became too much to take in. It sure was filling, so if you get it, split it. As it was, I ate half of the nachos and washed them down with a huge bottle of San Diego Pale Ale .394, my favorite San Diego craft beer.<br />
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Mrs. Tires had the Slugger Dog at Randy Jones' BBQ. This dog is HUGE, more than an inch thick and barely contained within the bun. While the dog was juicy and delicious, it was a real mouthful, and the bun split in half before too long. So far the best fare we've found at the park is the bloody mary michelada - a delightful way to kick off a day game.<br />
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Overall, Petco Park delivers a wonderful experience that even non-baseball fans love. My only complaint is that there's so much to see, do and eat it's hard to hit it all in one visit. Fortunately for me, it's my new home park, so I've got plenty of time to check out the rest of this baseball cathedral.<br />
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Downtown San Diego perfectly delivers on many of its signatures, including scenic beauty, a laid back attitude, a hint of tradition, and many military tributes. A stroll along the water makes for a fine half day of exploring, and there is still more I haven't checked out yet.<br />
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Stay tuned for more on downtown San Diego and other great spots throughout the city.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-10463928523112838202017-09-25T14:50:00.002-07:002017-09-28T23:05:29.646-07:00Illinois, Part 3: Matthiessen State Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When it comes to hiking in Illinois, it’s hard to beat <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/illinois-part-2-starved-rock-and-galena.html">Starved Rock State Park</a>. However, Starved Rock is not the only game in town. Matthiessen State Park is just a few miles from Starved Rock, and it offers similar views on a smaller scale. It’s typically much less crowded, too, though that wasn’t the case when Mrs. Tires, Trike (our son Jacoby) and I visited on Labor Day in 2016.<br />
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We departed from <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/illinois-part-1-chicago.html">Chicago</a> on a beautiful but steamy Monday morning, and after a two hour drive, we pulled in to Utica, ready to hit the trail. The traffic coming off the highway was killer, and it took us a good ten minutes to get from the ramp to the first intersection. After driving past Starved Rock, we approached the entrance to Mattiessan State Park's Dells Trail. This is known as the best trail in the park. Unfortunately, the entrance was blocked off, and a sign informed us that it was over capacity. Surprised but undeterred, we continued on to the entrance to the River Trail. As we pulled in, we were greeted by a packed parking lot. It took us four trips around the lot, but we eventually scored a space. I was quite surprised by the huge crowd, as it flew in the face of the park’s rep. However, a sunny day over a holiday weekend is bound to bring people in, so we shrugged it off. We covered ourselves with sunscreen and bug spray, strapped Trike to my back, and headed out into the forrest.<br />
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Despite the crowded lot, the grassy straightaway that lead us to the trail was sparsely populated. When we reached the trailhead, we found pretty much everyone else that was visiting that day. They were all hunched over a wooden stand, checking out the trail map before them. When we finally got to the map, we figured out why there were so many confused faces. The map was disorganized and was nearly impossible to decipher. We gave it a glance but gave up on it pretty quickly, deciding just to wander in and see where the trail took us. We were getting a bit skeptical about this place as we trudged in.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't tell from the photo, but the map didn't match real life and made no sense</td></tr>
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Fortunately, the dense forest filled with beautifully green trees and brush changed our outlook in a hurry. We were quickly encapsulated by the forest. The trail was rough, a bit muddy, and covered in tree roots, but navigable. Hiking with a baby on my back was a new experience, and it made me much more aware of each step. Still, the greenery was enchanting, and the light shown through the trees with a heavenly glow. It was a pleasant and gratifying trudge.<br />
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It wasn’t long before we came to an intersection in the trail, which was quite populated thanks to a different trail map, tattered and worn and even more confusing. We tried to make heads or tails of the map but we were just as confused by the incongruent markings on the map as everyone else was. We conferred with other hikers and decided to turn left.<br />
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Once we got past the trail map, we were seemingly alone in the forest. There were plenty of other hikers on the trail, but the thick forest made it seem like we were the only ones there. At about that time, Trike became enamored with the view of the tops of the trees. He spent most of the remainder of the hike with his head cocked all the way back, staring straight up at the tree tops and the sky. We could tell he was fascinated by it all. A hiker in the making, no doubt.<br />
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We didn’t see much wildlife during our hike, other than a small chipmunk at the edge of the trail. However, plenty of birds made these woods their home, as apparent by the frequent chirping and song present whenever we made a conscious effort to listen for it. At one point we heard the unmistakable tap tap tap tap tap tap of a woodpecker, though we couldn’t locate it among the trees.<br />
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As we kept going, the trail became more hilly, and more muddy. We worked up a good sweat as we proceeded, and we were extra careful at the muddy patches. Trike's presence made us much more cautious in that regard.<br />
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Fortunately, we successfully navigated the trail without incident, and eventually we arrived at the river’s edge. The river was prominent enough to draw attention, yet shallow enough to cross it if you had a good pair of boots. We were in sneakers, so we kept to the river’s edge. It made for a great place to rest for a while. It may have been the apex of the hike, but because of the shoddy map, we weren’t sure. It ended up being the apex for us anyway.<br />
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When we turned back, we took a different route. The tail forked, and we went in the direction that brought us uphill. This portion was even less populated, and we were seemingly alone in the forest for the majority of the stretch. It was more muddy than the trails we were on previously, but we avoided the mud well enough and stayed upright. All the while, Trike was cooing and kicking his legs in delight.<br />
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Our trail selection was a leap of faith, but it paid off, as we ended up back at the second trail map. From there, it was an easy hike back to the trailhead. We were happy about that, as we were sweating like crazy, and Trike’s face was turning red.<br />
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As we reached the trail entrance, we witnessed an awkward and somewhat humorous scene. One of the children in a family made up of three kids and two adults informed his mother that there was a bug on her. This sent her into uncontrollable hysterics, and she swatted and shook to get the bug off of her. She called to her husband for help, and he came to her rescue, only to recoil when her flailing arms almost caught him in the face. His retreat made her even more upset, as she interpreted his hesitation as abandonment. Finally he got close enough for a good, accurate swipe, and he knocked the presumably poisonous insect to the ground. The kid ran over and inspected the bug. Much to his amusement, it was a caterpillar. Regardless, she launched into a deadly blame game, berating her husband for not rescuing her from the killer butterfly-in-training. We ran into them again when we made it to our car, and she was still laying into her husband for his egregious error.<br />
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On our way out of town, we drove through the downtown area of Utica, which brought back memories of <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/illinois-part-2-starved-rock-and-galena.html">our previous visit</a>. Eager to relive our past and feeling a bit peckish, we parked the car and strolled down the strip. It was a small but charming downtown area, lined with shops and restaurants. At the end of the street stood Duffy’s Tavern, a bar and restaurant we were quite familiar with. Mrs. Tires and I spent a memorable afternoon there during our previous visit.<br />
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The place was packed when we walked in, but much to our delight, there was a table in the back with just enough room for a highchair. We instantly remembered the low key atmosphere and the Irish firefighter inspired decor. What’s more, the high chair came with a pack of animal crackers, a nice touch that Trike thoroughly appreciated. We snacked on thick, buttery onion rings and enjoyed some deliciously cold beers, then split a rueben sandwich. All the while, we reminisced, looked back on our hike, and eavesdropped on the loud, jubilant group of bikers on the other end of the room.<br />
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With our bellies full and our hiking goals fulfilled, we hit the road back to Chicago. On the drive back, we admitted to each other we were slightly disappointed that we didn’t get to go on the Dells trail, but we agreed that was reason to go back. As it was, Mattiessen State Park made for a wonderful one-day excursion, and we were thrilled to have taken Trike on his first hike.<br />
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More on Illinois:<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/illinois-part-1-chicago.html">Illinois, Part 1: Chicago</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/illinois-part-2-starved-rock-and-galena.html">Illinois, Part 2: Starved Rock and Galena</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-24435994094455628292017-08-05T21:31:00.001-07:002017-08-05T21:57:37.093-07:00London, England<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I studied in Stirling, Scotland in the spring of 2002, and my time abroad allowed me to travel around Europe. During the University of Stirling's spring break, I embarked on a journey that took me to London, <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/05/paris-france.html">Paris</a> and Spain. My friend Jeremy picked me up at the train station in London. He was studying there at the time, and we caught up on our respective study abroad experiences as we made our way to <a href="https://www.clinkhostels.com/london/clink78/">Clink 78</a>, the hostel I'd be staying at for the next two nights. After check-in, we hit the town.<br />
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That's where things get fuzzy. While I remember my arrival quite clearly, the details of where we went and what we did while wandering London are lost to time. I do remember noting to myself that London looked like an older version of any American city. This of course makes sense given the shared history of our great nations. I also remember seeing (and drinking) a lot of Hoegaarden. This distinctive white beer was available everywhere, and could be found pouring out of custom Hoegaarden-branded taps into huge Hoegaarden glasses.<br />
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Jeremy and I met up at the London Eye the next day to kick of my only full day in London. This famous ferris wheel was brand new at the time, having opened shortly after the start of the new millennium. We intended to ride the Eye, but the wait was over two hours. That was too long for our tastes, so we decided to stroll down the Queen’s Walk, a walking path that flanked the river Thames. From the river's edge, we took in a great view of Big Ben and did some great people watching. We also encountered a few installations promoting a Salvator Dali exhibit along the way, which further enhanced the experience.<br />
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From there, we weren’t too far from Piccadilly Circus, so we wandered over for a peek and a pint. If you combine the blinking screens and advertisements in Times Square with the shopping at Faneuil Hall in Boston, you’ve got Piccadilly Circus. We perused some of the souvenir stands and stopped for a while to watch a street performer juggle swords blindfolded before finding a watering hole.<br />
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Once we settled into a pub, Jeremy produced two Cuban cigars. Cubans are illegal in the US, but were readily available in the UK, and with smoking allowed in London pubs, we eagerly lit them up. The smoking session didn’t last long, as it annoyed some patrons, prompting the bartender to ask us to snuff out our stogies. We took that as our cue to move on.<br />
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Our last stop of the day took us to an out of the way, but very famous destination - Abbey Road Studios. After riding from one decrepit tube station to another and wandering through a rather dodgy neighborhood, we arrived at the studio that recorded the Beatles and countless others.<br />
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The building itself was a lot smaller than I anticipated. One might walk right by it without noticing it if it wasn’t for the swarth of tourists taking photos. Between the tourists and the studio sat a long, low wall covered in Beatles lyrics, provocative statements and a sea of names. It was a fascinating piece of living art.<br />
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We didn’t have access to the studio itself, so after marveling at it from the street, there was only one thing left to do - try to replicate the Abbey Road album cover. The famous photo on the cover of the Beatles album that bears the studio's name was taken at the crosswalk closest to the studio. All of us tourists had the same idea, so we all waited patiently for the opportunity to cross without being smacked by a tiny but vengeful British car. It seemed the touristy hubbub the studio brought to the neighborhood annoyed the locals. They zoomed through the intersection with little regard for the lives of the tourists crossing the street.<br />
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I was so excited to cross when it was my turn, and I couldn’t wait to develop the photo Jeremy took so I could see myself in the most famous crosswalk in history. Of course it’s just my luck that the photo came out blurry - and I’m walking the wrong way!<br />
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Jeremy and I went out for dinner and a couple of drinks after that, and when I returned to my hostel, I realized I wasn't quite ready to call it a night. I opted to visit the nearest night club, which, conveniently, was located in the hostel's basement. Not long after I bellied up to the bar at the club, I struck up a conversation with a good looking young lady who was also visiting from America. I was single then, as I hadn't yet met the love of my life, the awe-inspiring and breathtakingly beautiful Mrs. Tires. The American gal and I flirted and joked over drinks for more than an hour. Eventually we parted ways, and I was sure I'd never see her again. As it turned out, I saw her when she descended the ladder attached to the bunk above me the next morning. Without knowing it, we had slept on different levels of the same bunk bed. Awkward!<br />
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After a delightful breakfast at the hostel, I met up with Jeremy for one last day in London. We were joined by his cousin, an ex-pat who played for a semi-pro rugby team. Jeremy and I gladly accepted the invitation to join him and his mates for a pick-up rugby game in the park. To a man, every single one of his friends was huge, stocky, and strong. By comparison, I was a twig. As such, they made me out to be a speedster. That couldn't have been further from the truth, but I didn't let on. Neither of us had played rugby before, so they explained the rules and promised to go easy on us. We played a non-contact game, which was convenient because these men could have flattened me with ease.<br />
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Despite the casual setting, the action was fast and intense. The game took some getting used to, especially because forward passes weren't allowed. At some point during the game I managed to score a try, the rugby equivalent of a touchdown. Everyone was cracking wise while we played, and I matched them quip for quip, so we were all friends by the end of the game. This friendliness came in handy, because after the game, Jeremy's cousin offered me, Jeremy and two of his mates a ride, and the five of us crammed into one of those tiny British cars. Despite the sardine can ending, the rugby game was the highlight of my stay in London.<br />
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Jeremy and I said goodbye shortly after that, and off I went to the nearest station that would get me on the Chunnel to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/05/paris-france.html">Paris</a>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-7119125768478611822017-02-25T18:06:00.001-08:002017-02-26T09:41:54.410-08:00Ireland, Part 4: Cork, Kinsale and Carrigaline<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our Great Irish Road Trip was in full swing when we woke up in Cork. After a day in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html">Dublin</a>, two days in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-2-galway.html">Galway</a>, and a day checking out the <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/10/ireland-part-3-cliffs-of-moher-and.html">Cliffs of Moher and the Dingle Peninsula</a>, we arrived in Cork sometime past midnight the night before. Despite the late arrival, we woke up early, ready for another jam-packed day of in Ireland.<br />
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Our morning started with a wonderful Irish breakfast, courtesy of Breeta, the owner of the <a href="http://www.higginsbandb.com/" target="_blank">Higgins B&B</a>. We chowed down on eggs, sausage, beans, toast, tomatoes, cheese and coffee while we chatted with Breeta and a German guest who insisted on drinking Guinness with breakfast.<br />
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With our stomachs full, we hopped back into the car and headed to <a href="http://www.blarneycastle.ie/" target="_blank">Blarney Castle</a>, one of the most anticipated stops on our journey. We successfully arrived right at 9:00 AM, a full hour before the tour busses showed up, meaning we beat the crowds. We marched towards the castle with the hope of getting some time at the Blarney Stone, the castle’s signature feature. According to legend, kissing this stone grants the visitor “blarney,” which is essentially the gift of gab.<br />
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The process of kissing the Blarney Stone was quite involved. We entered the castle, wove our way through its narrow passageways and hiked a series of tight steps.<br />
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Eventually, we reached the top of the castle, where we encountered a line that wrapped around the perimeter of the roof.<br />
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It took us about 20 minutes to get through the line - not too bad a wait considering a 2+ hour wait is common. We didn’t mind waiting, as the castle’s features were fascinating, and we encountered great views of the expansive and beautiful surrounding area.<br />
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The Blarney Stone was located below the level of the floor, so a couple of castle staff members were situated there to help visitors deliver their smooch. Mrs. Tires went first. The attendant supported her as she laid on her back, grabbed the support bars and extended her neck. The other staff member snapped her photo while she puckered up and kissed the stone.<br />
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I followed suit and gave the stone a big, juicy kiss. During this process, we both conveniently ignored the rumor about the staff routinely pissing on the stone during off-hours.<br />
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With the gift of gab bestowed upon us, we set off to explore the castle and the grounds. As it turned out, the grounds around the castle provided lots to see. We had access to several gardens, a few miles of hiking trails, and some interesting areas around the castle, including the dungeons. We strolled the grounds and took it all in while snapping some photos and enjoying the perfect weather.<br />
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We were drawn to the Poison Garden, an eclectic collection of plants that were poisonous. Some plants had signs warning visitors not to touch, eat, or even smell them because of the various ailments the poisons could cause.<br />
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No plant was more heavily guarded than the lethally dangerous marijuana plant.<br />
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We also visited Badger’s Cave, where Mrs. Tires did her best Gollum impression.<br />
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In lock step with an unfortunate reality of our fast-paced road trip, we didn’t have as much time as we would have liked to explore the grounds around the castle. Nonetheless, Blarney Castle was a lot of fun to explore, and it far exceeded our expectations. We were sad to leave.<br />
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We had a date with some of Leanne’s relatives, so we headed towards Carrigaline, a small town about an hour outside of Cork. Pete and Jenny O’Leary resided in Carrigaline…or at least they used to. They had long since passed, and we were going to see if we could find any trace of them in this small Irish town.<br />
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Upon arriving in Carrigaline, its charm impressed us right away. Many of the destinations on our Great Irish Road Trip were rather touristy, so in comparison, this town seemed more authentic, and it was clean, comfortable and welcoming. We parked and strolled down the main drag, not exactly sure what we were looking for. The town bookstore seemed like a good place to start, so we went there and chatted with the shop owner about our search. She half laughed at us as she delivered some unfortunate but totally logical news - there were hundreds of O’Learys who resided in the area, and our chances of tracking down Pete and Jenny were pretty slim. She did, however, provide a couple of relevant clues. She advised us to visit the town church, which had more extensive records than we’d find in the bookstore. More importantly, since Pete and Jenny owned a farm, it was likely that the farm was on Kilmoney road with all the other farms in town.<br />
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We found the church and entered, hoping to find someone who could help. The stately and ornate church was impressive, but no one was home.<br />
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We had a similar experience when we went to the Carrigaline Library, which was closed for lunch. Disappointed but still upbeat, we grabbed a bite at a local grocery store and had a beer at a nearby pub before settling for a cruise down Kilmoney road, the closest we’d get to tracing Mrs. Tires’ Irish heritage.<br />
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Rolling fields flanked the road, one of which must’ve been Pete and Jenny’s farm back in the day. We tried to imagine visiting said farm and meeting her relatives, an amusing exercise that enhanced the experience.<br />
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Ultimately we didn’t find whatever it was we were looking for, but we did get to check out the town Mrs. Tires’ relatives lived in, and that was good enough for us.<br />
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On our way back to Cork, we followed Breeta’s recommendation and stopped in the seaside town of Kinsale. After struggling to find parking for a time period roughly equal to the rest of our time in the town, we strolled along the waterfront marveling at the docks, which seemingly went on for miles. From there, we found a seaside restaurant, where we devoured a plate of oysters and enjoyed a couple of tasty Irish beverages. After a quick stop in a gift shop, we were on the road again, headed back to Cork.<br />
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After a much-needed nap back at the B&B, we changed and got ready to go out for the evening. All of the driving around left us just one evening to visit downtown Cork, and in true Rayman fashion, we intended to make the most of it.<br />
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We started our evening at <a href="http://www.corkheritagepubs.com/pubs/sin-e/" target="_blank">Sin É</a>, a pub loaded with character and known for live music, delicious stouts, and an eclectic mix of decorations. The music, literature, and sports-inspired decor covered the walls and the ceiling, and made staring at the walls an exciting and surprising experience. The whole vibe of the place was brought together by tables lit by candlelight coming from wine and whiskey bottles turned candlestick holders. We sat at the bar initially, where we talked to a friendly regular of the pub. He recommended we go to St. Anne’s Church, where tourists are invited to ring the gigantic Bells of Shandon at the top. Unfortunately, our schedule didn’t allow for it, so that’s another destination for the Next Time list. We spent the second half of our time at Sin É sitting at a small table tucked away in the corner of the bar, where we enjoyed some whiskey and beer and toasted our time in Cork.<br />
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We could have spent all evening at Sin É, but we had reservations at <a href="http://greenesrestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Greene’s</a>, a fancy restaurant famous for fresh, inventive food and a secluded outdoor seating area accented by an actual waterfall. Mrs. Tires made our reservations well in advance of our stay, which afforded us a seat on the romantic outdoor patio. We enjoyed a wonderful bottle of wine, and I had the Skeaganore Duck, which was easily the finest duck I had ever eaten. As nightfall crept in, the restaurant lit the waterfall with colored lightbulbs, which added to the allure.<br />
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We were going strong after our delicious meal, so we sought out some nightlife in downtown Cork. It was Monday night, so the town was pretty quiet, but we didn’t let that deter us. After closing down a bar that shut its doors at 11:00, we sought out a late-night establishment, which was unexpectedly hard to find. Fortunately, we stumbled upon the <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g186600-d526254-Reviews-Old_Oak-Cork_County_Cork.html" target="_blank">Old Oak Pub</a>, a huge, soccer-obsessed pub that was not only open late, but also offered karaoke. Mrs. Tires and I love the stage, and we rarely pass up the opportunity to get behind a microphone and belt out a tune. Only a couple of people had put in songs by the time we made our song selections, and we feared our karaoke experience would be a dud. Nonetheless, when our names were called, we went up and give it our all. I sang Can’t Take My Eyes off of You by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and it was one of my best performances ever. The crowd cheered like crazy when I left the stage.<br />
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Not to be outdone, Mrs. Tires belted out an amazing rendition of the Beatles’ Oh, Darling, which was met by equally enthusiastic whooping and applause.<br />
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As soon as Mrs. Tires sat back down, our server approached with a round of drinks on the house because of our performances. It was the first and only time our singing produced free beer. I couldn’t believe it.<br />
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The karaoke enthusiasts came out of the woodwork after our performances, and we were treated to some fantastic karaoke. It was an outstanding evening that left us walking five feet off the ground when we made it back to our B&B.<br />
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After another delightful breakfast the next morning, we were on the road for the final full day of our stay in Ireland. We couldn’t take the radio anymore, so we bought some discount CDs at a gas station and rocked out to them while we drove back to Dublin. After a smooth and pleasant cruise, we were assessing our lunch options when we saw a sign for the Rock of Cashel. Breeta recommended we stop off at this Irish castle. We weren't entirely sold on a visit, but with lunch in mind, we took the exit.<br />
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We planned to poke our heads into the Rock of Caschel and see if it was alluring enough to check out further before fully committing. We walked in the front door to a room overlooking the castle's courtyard, but the view didn't sell it well. Still unsure, we took a few steps into the courtyard for more, and upon looking back, we realized we walked right by the cashier and had actually inadvertently snuck in without paying. Whoops! Since we no longer had cost as a barrier, we rocked the Cashel.<br />
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This castle was scenic and sported some intriguing installations, but didn’t live up to the castles we visited previously, and we didn’t connect with it. Besides, we’d be staying in a castle that night, or rather a castle-turned-hotel. The hotel is described in the post on <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html">Dublin</a>, and it perfectly capped our Great Irish Road Trip.<br />
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Ireland was a wonderful country to explore. The fields were as green and lush as we had imagined, the people were as welcoming as we had hoped, and the beverages were delicious. We got everything we wanted out of our trip, and we’d gladly go back again.<br />
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For more on Ireland check out:<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html">Ireland, Part 1: Dublin</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-2-galway.html">Ireland, Part 2: Galway</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/10/ireland-part-3-cliffs-of-moher-and.html">Ireland, Part 3: The Cliffs of Moher and the Dingle Peninsula</a><br />
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and check out <a href="https://twitter.com/search?f=tweets&vertical=default&q=%23craicandcapriccio&src=typd" target="_blank">#craicandcapriccio</a> on Twitter.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-80020164426590970962016-10-13T18:29:00.001-07:002016-10-13T18:47:25.005-07:00Ireland, Part 3: The Cliffs of Moher and the Dingle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The first three days of our Great Irish Road Trip included a tour of <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html">Dublin</a> and two days wandering <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-2-galway.html">Galway</a>. Mrs. Tires and I met Pia and Masha of Slovenia during our last night in Galway. They were headed in our direction the next day, so we offered them a ride.<br />
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Smiling despite the early hour and armed with cupcakes, Pia and Masha hopped in the back seat of our tiny rental car, and off we went towards the Irish countryside.<br />
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Our companions made for great company. They knew a lot about the surrounding area, and they were more than willing to act as our personal photographers at scenic stops along the way. We joked and laughed as we passed by Ireland's flatlands and swamps, which eventually gave way to more hilly and dramatic terrain.<br />
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Our drive brought us by the adorable Dunguaire Castle, a great place to snap a few photos and stretch our legs.<br />
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After about two hours of driving, we reached a town near the Cliffs of Moher, where we bid Pia and Masha farewell. The car was much quieter during the final stretch of the drive.<br />
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We arrived at the cliffs, where we were greeted by a huge, jam-packed parking lot. As it turned out, the cliffs are one of the most popular attractions in all of Ireland.<br />
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The Cliffs of Moher impressed right away. The huge cliffs combined to present a dynamic jagged edge to the shoreline. They were amazingly tall, with the tallest point more than 700 feet above the water. We spent most of our visit admiring the cliffs while we walked up and down the shoreline, and we enjoyed photographing them from different vantage points.<br />
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Eventually, we made our way to the O’Brien Observation Tower, which acted as a bookend on the other end of the public area that encompassed the cliffs.<br />
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We couldn't believe how close we could get to the edge. While we couldn't set foot on the cliffs themselves, the shoreline we walked along also stood quite high up. In the US, guardrails aplenty would prevent visitors from getting too close to the edge, but at the Cliffs of Moher, some comedic signage acted as the only safety precaution. If our experience disappointed, we easily could have ended our misery by jumping to our deaths.<br />
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On the way back to the visitor center, we stopped to listen to a harpist strumming for the pleasure of the visitors.</div>
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After a quick perusal of the exhibits and a snack in the expansive visitor center, we hopped back in the rental car and hit the road. We had our sights set on Cork, but we still had plenty of driving ahead to get there. That left us with a decision to make: drive right to Cork, or stretch our time on the road and head to the Dingle Peninsula? We knew the detour would make our already busy schedule that much more jam-packed, but after acknowledging that life is short, we decided to go for it. Off we drove to the Dingle.<br />
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After passing through Limerick (which is nicknamed Stab City), we made a bee line to the peninsula, which is known for its beautiful scenery, winding roads and beaches. When we reached the Dingle, we immediately fell in love with our surroundings. Rollings fields of various shades of green and yellow popped up at every turn, and the view changed frequently as we drove. The narrow roads were a thrill to navigate. We also ran into a few surprises along the way.<br />
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Inch Beach was a highlight, as it stood in sharp contrast to the surrounding fields. We stopped off to have a look, and the beach awed us with its beauty. Ireland isn't really known for its beaches, but this one was gorgeous, and its surroundings elevated it above the norm.<br />
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Eventually, we reached the town of Dingle, a quintessentially Irish town featuring beautifully colored buildings and loads of charm. We only had time to grab a quick bite, but we instantly connected with this lovable little town and fretted over not having more time to explore. The town of Dingle is now on the “Next Time” list.<br />
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We had some reassessing to do after dinner, with the hour getting late and lots of driving still ahead. The main roads of the Dingle Peninsula made up a mangled figure-eight, with the town of Dingle serving as the crossroads between the two rings. The western-most ring was called Slea Head Drive, and it housed the most impressive views on the peninsula. Sadly, we realized we didn’t have time to make it around Slea Head, having already pushed our arrival time at the Cork B&B back twice. We continued on the east ring.<br />
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Our drive brought us through Conner Pass, a famously narrow road flanked by an exposed cliff face. This road supposedly accommodated traffic in both directions, but it seemed barely wide enough for our tiny car. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any cars driving in the opposite direction, though we did have to stop for an intimidating sheep making its way through the pass.<br />
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A quiet, contemplative mood took over the car as we concluded our cruise around the Dingle Peninsula. We smiled as we sat in silence, enjoying the setting sun while looking back on our day on the road, the highlight of our Great Irish Road Trip so far.<br />
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We had no regrets over our choices that day, but we definitely paid the price for our extra long journey. We left the peninsula as darkness set in, and we still had over two hours of driving before we would arrive in Cork. The roads we traveled were heavily wooded and not well lit, so driving became quite difficult, especially after fatigue set in. We white-knuckled our way through, but we weren’t sure we’d ever make it. All the while we knew the owner of our B&B sat waiting for us, and we had to call two more times to push our arrival back some more.<br />
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We made it to Cork at about 1:00 AM and found <a href="http://www.higginsbandb.com/" target="_blank">Higgins B&B</a>. Despite the late hour, Breeda, the B&B’s owner, met us at the door and cheerfully showed us to our room. We hit the pillow that night and instantly fell into deep sleep. It had been an exhausting but wonderful ride, and there was more in store the next day.<br />
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Coming soon: Ireland, Part 4: Cork, Kinsale and Carragaline<br />
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See also:<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html" target="_blank">Ireland, Part 1: Dublin</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-2-galway.html" target="_blank">Ireland, Part 2: Galway</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-69306665946213280912016-08-23T08:51:00.001-07:002016-08-23T12:27:48.702-07:00Ireland, Part 2: Galway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After kicking off our trip to Ireland with a day in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-1-dublin.html">Dublin</a>, Mrs. Tires and I woke up the next morning ready to embark on our Great Irish Road Trip. The trek would take us to the other side of the country and back, starting with a stay in Galway. Excitement built up as we packed our things, but some trepidation crept in when we got our rental car. People drive on the left side of the road in Ireland, and the steering wheel is on the right-hand side of the car. That took some getting used to.<br />
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Palpable nerves floated in the air when we started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, but a few well-executed turns alleviated our fear…for a moment. As we entered a roundabout, inefficient signage (not driver error in any way, shape or form) sent us in the completely wrong direction, and before we knew it, we were off course and heading into no man’s land. The mood in the car went into a tailspin, with all the anxiety bubbling up to the surface. After freaking out at each other for a few minutes, we stopped off at the nearest establishment to get directions. The world’s kindest bartender gave us detailed instruction and assured us we’d live to tell the tale of this harrowing misstep.<br />
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Before long, we merged back onto the highway and were driving in the right direction. I adjusted quickly to the left side of the road and started enjoying the extra challenge the foreign setup put upon us. I initially hesitated to bring the car up to the speed limit of 120 km/h, but eventually I got more comfortable and started enjoying zipping along in our tiny automobile. Mrs. Tires later revealed to me she never rid herself of the nerves, but at that moment, all was well. We admired the beautiful countryside and ogled the strange signs as we drove.<br />
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Flipping through the Irish radio stations provided additional entertainment, and that’s how we heard the song Blurred Lines for the first time. The song hadn’t hit the US yet, but it played time and time again on the radio in Ireland, and we heard it about 50 more times on our journey.<br />
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After almost three hours of driving, we arrived at our destination, the seaside town of Galway. Intense traffic greeted us, but eventually we made it to the <a href="http://www.salthillhotel.com/en/" target="_blank">Salthill Hotel</a>, a quaint yet ornate establishment conveniently located near the shoreline. We unpacked and unwound after our drive, and while doing so, I happened upon some literature about the nearby <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g186609-d215937-Reviews-Salthill_Promenade-Galway_County_Galway_Western_Ireland.html" target="_blank">Salthill Promenade</a>. As it turns out, kicking the wall at the end of the promenade was a time-honored Galway tradition. I kept looking for some sort of reason this ritual existed (such as bringing good luck, or punishing terrible wrongdoing the wall once committed) but found nothing. Nevertheless, I’m not one to buck a sacred ritual, so I convinced Mrs. Tires to get ready, and off we went to kick the wall.<br />
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The promenade impressed, with the ocean serving as the backdrop. A huge public diving board punctuated the shoreline, and people leaped off of it despite the chilly temperatures. Interesting characters acted as ornaments to the attraction.<br />
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At the end of the promenade sat an ordinary stone wall. We each gave the wall a good kick, and laughed heartily in the process.<br />
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From there, we stopped at a local donut shop for a treat, then took a long walk to the center of Galway. Downtown Galway centered around Quay street, and consisted of a series of narrow streets lined with pubs, shops and restaurants. <span style="text-align: center;">We spent the rest of our day wandering around that area, checking out the shops and popping into intriguing pubs for a pint. The stroll provided plenty of charm, though it was a bit cramped, with narrow streets and lots of fellow tourists.</span><br />
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Our stroll eventually took us to the <a href="http://www.thekingshead.ie/" target="_blank">King’s Head Pub</a>, a restaurant, pub and music venue that managed to feel both cozy and cutting-edge. We started with a plate of oysters, and they instantly became a favorite of ours, partially because of the tangy sauce on the side. We slurped our last oysters just as the live band started playing downstairs, so we joined the excited crowd and rocked out. We were hoping for some traditional Irish music, but the contemporary rock band provided a welcome alternative. They played hard all night and kept the crowd dancing. The Kings Head also poured us our first pints of an oddly named pale ale - the Galway Hooker. This smooth and tasty beer’s name drew inspiration from the hooker ships that frequented Galway. I amused myself to no end by approaching the bar and slyly stating, “Two hookers, please.” After enjoying several hookers (never gets old!), we called it a night. The King’s Head perfectly capped our first day in Galway.<br />
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In my opinion, no vacation is complete without some mini-golf. So when I saw a mini-golf course near our hotel, I knew it would be the perfect way to start our second day in Galway. After another stop at the delicious coffee and donut shop close by, we walked over to <a href="http://www.leisureland.ie/home" target="_blank">Leisureland</a> for a game. It rained a bit while we played, but we had a great time regardless, and I won, which is always a bonus!<br />
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Rain continued to sprinkle down on us as we handed in our putters, so we took a bus into town to continue our exploration of Galway's main drag. On our way, we passed the village of Claddagh, home of the claddagh ring. Mrs. Tires loves her claddagh ring, so she was delighted to be near its origin. The sighting inspired us to seek out the Claddagh Ring Museum, located in Galway proper. I was surprised to hear of a whole museum dedicated to this type of ring, and it turned out my skepticism was justified. It was less a museum and more a ring store with a couple of display cases. We were in and out of there in less than five minutes.<br />
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Our wanderings continued, and we caught glimpses of the Spanish Arch and the Christ of King Church as we strolled. This worked up quite the appetite, so we moseyed on over to <a href="http://www.mcdonaghs.net/restaurant.html" target="_blank">McDonagh’s</a>, a famous order-at-the-counter-style eatery that supposedly served some of the best seafood in Galway. You wouldn’t know it from the fish and chips I ordered, which was passable at best. McDonagh’s disappointed, and I can’t recommend it.<br />
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We weren’t deterred by the lackluster museum and the subpar food, and our spirits were lifted when we figured out how to work some traditional Irish music into our day. <a href="http://www.tigcoiligalway.com/home.html" target="_blank">Tig Coili</a>, a quaint little pub in the center of town, featured live music every day and served as a hangout for local musicians. Even in early afternoon, the place was packed. The setup was more casual than I expected, with the musicians sitting around a table instead of standing up on a stage. Nonetheless, the music was upbeat and pleasant, and we beamed as we listened to the gleeful singing and strumming. We also struck up a conversation with a kind family from the States, and we exchanged tales about driving around Ireland and all over the world.<br />
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We finished our pints at the end of the session and headed over to another well-known Galway establishment, the cleverly named Dew Drop Inn. This famous pub was small to the point of being cramped, and the crowd was decidedly older, so we downed a pint, snapped a photo, and moved on.<br />
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On and on we wandered. At one point, we stumbled upon the Oscar Wilde statue and the park that flanked the downtown area.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mrs. Tries chats it up with Oscar and Eduard Wilde</td></tr>
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Before we knew it, it was approaching nine o'clock, so we searched the town for a kitchen that was open late, and eventually we found a fancy wine bar called <a href="http://martines.ie/" target="_blank">Martine’s on Quay Street</a>. We got an unexpectedly delicious meal, including a huge, juicy burger. While we sat at our outdoor table and looked back on our day, we came to the conclusion that we had sufficiently explored Galway and were ready to call it a night. While we enjoyed our time wandering Galway, it underwhelmed. We questioned what brought us there in the first place. While we were glad we made the trek, neither of us felt we'd have to go back, and we agreed that it wasn't an essential stop on the Great Irish Road Trip.<br />
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By all accounts, the bus should have been running at that time, but we waited at the bus stop for quite a while and there was no sign of it. A local about our age named Peter sat waiting for the bus as well. We commiserated on the bus’ tardiness, then got to introducing ourselves and chatting away. As the prospect of a bus showing up faded into the evening, we decided to split a cab. During our cab ride, Peter invited us to meet up with his friends at a bar called <a href="http://www.oconnorsbar.com/" target="_blank">O’Conner’s Famous Pub</a>. We gladly accepted.<br />
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We instantly fell in love with O'Conners. Its lively vibe was perfectly complimented by its decor, which consisted of wall-to-wall artifacts such as decked-out lamps, wooden barrels, wagon wheels, and many more eclectic objects. We especially loved the fishing nets with fake clam shells strewn from the ceiling. Our new friends were wonderful company. We met Pia and Masha, both of whom were from Slovenia. As we discussed our travel plans with them, we discovered Pia and Masha were going where we were going the next day. After ensuring our safety by looking them in the eye and asking them if they were serial killers, we agreed to give them a lift to the Cliffs of Moher. We drank and laughed late into the night.<br />
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We weren’t sure whether Pia and Masha would actually join us the next morning, but, sure enough, they hopped into our rental car bright and early, accompanied by some cupcakes from Pia’s bakery. Off we went to the Cliffs of Moher.<br />
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Coming Soon: Ireland, Part 3: The Cliffs of Moher and the Dingle Peninsula<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-40356908540555050582016-08-08T08:22:00.000-07:002016-08-23T12:29:25.112-07:00Ireland, Part 1: Dublin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ireland's green fields, kind folks, and delicious beverages called to me ever since my visit to Northern Ireland in the early 2000s. So when Mrs. Tries expressed her desire to visit Ireland and retrace some of her ancestry, we pushed this country to the top of our travel wish list. We finally make the trek in the summer of 2013 as part of a trip that also brought us to Italy.<br />
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Planning a trip is half the fun, and I took my planning game to the next level when masterminding this vacation. Using a piece of paper to represent each day, I turned our kitchen cabinets into a giant calendar so we could post our findings as we researched our destinations. It helped us piece together our schedule, and kept the trip top-of-mind.<br />
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Once the pieces (of paper) fell into place, our Ireland itinerary included a day in Dublin, a couple of days in Galway, a day to check out the Cliffs of Moher, and a couple of days in Cork before returning to Dublin for one more night.<br />
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When July rolled around, it was time for our epic adventure. We headed to O’Hare airport with passports in hand and anticipation mounting. After a long but uneventful flight directly from Chicago to Dublin, we landed in Ireland tired, but excited.<br />
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We touched down on the Fourth of July, and much to our surprise, the Dublin airport was covered in decorations celebrating America’s Independence Day. We had a laugh and a smile at this, as it was both totally absurd and oddly comforting.<br />
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We took a cab from the airport to our hotel, and immediately we were greeted by Ireland’s signature friendliness. Our cab driver eagerly welcomed us and oriented us as we drove, pointing out things like a hotel owned by Bono of U2 fame.<br />
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We arrived at the <a href="http://doubletree3.hilton.com/en/hotels/ireland/the-morrison-a-doubletree-by-hilton-hotel-DUBTMDI/index.html" target="_blank">Morrison Hotel</a>, and immediately we were taken by its stylish yet cozy motif. In addition to providing a great place to stay, the Morrison was within walking distance of many of Dublin's most famous attractions.<br />
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We were so thrilled to be in Ireland, we skipped the nap we had planned, and hit the area surrounding our hotel to get the lay of the land. One place in particular caught our eye, the <a href="http://www.leprechaunmuseum.ie/" target="_blank">National Leprechaun Museum</a>. We wondered how this place even existed, and with it located just a block from our hotel, we had to find out. As it turns out, the museum was an imaginarium of sorts featuring interactive exhibits and optical illusions. It was closed that day so we didn’t get to inquire further, but it looked like a cool place.<br />
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From there we wandered over to the bridges that cross the River Liffey, which runs through the center of Dublin. There were many such bridges, several of which were intricately decorated.<br />
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Our trek took us past establishments old and new, from ancient churches to modern sculptures.<br />
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We could have wandered the streets for hours, but a highly anticipated destination called. Off we went to the <a href="https://www.guinness-storehouse.com/en" target="_blank">Guinness Storehouse</a>. It was a bit hard to find via GPS, but it was worth the confusion and then some when we got there.<br />
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I didn't expect much more than a souped-up version of a brewery tour. However, the Guinness Storefront offered much more than that. Essentially, it was a museum, a bar, and an adult playground, all rolled into one. In addition to requisite exhibits such as how the company started and how their beer was made, installations on Guinness’ marketing, how the brand changed over time, its place in pop culture and more were housed within its walls.<br />
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It even had some trick photography built in, which sent our funny photo-loving hearts aflutter.<br />
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We also enjoyed learning how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness, a process far more intricate than need be, but more fun, too.<br />
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The museum experience concluded at the Gravity Bar on the top floor. This glass-enclosed bar offered sensational views of the city, and the taps provided fresh Guinness to visitors. Our pints tasted creamy and distinguished, and the flavor was crisper than the Guinness in the US. We smiled ear to ear while we sipped our Guinness and looked over all of Dublin.<br />
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After a quick trip to the gift shop (which featured more Guinness memorabilia than we ever could have imagined), we left buzzing with excitement. The Guinness Storefront turned out to be one of my favorite stops on the trip, and I whole-heartedly recommend it.<br />
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From there, we wandered back through Dublin, this time at a more leisurely pace. We enjoyed St. Patrick’s Cathedral and Christ's Church Cathedral from afar while we walked.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZBCdpJEL7z-jw2Mfedu9cI5gRRkgNaYXWF4WzSeoD9wMG-xqplL-XobSuztGFmjs4XTeABznqGqsddnfIgM3_8ExDlgJo9c_EFXjJlFdwYkZtPKW05ie5BrahGYRf0WxzRk2ylikzM4-/s1600/IMG_2187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZBCdpJEL7z-jw2Mfedu9cI5gRRkgNaYXWF4WzSeoD9wMG-xqplL-XobSuztGFmjs4XTeABznqGqsddnfIgM3_8ExDlgJo9c_EFXjJlFdwYkZtPKW05ie5BrahGYRf0WxzRk2ylikzM4-/s640/IMG_2187.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Patrick's Cathedral</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKzzZZw0Nc4FyLm-RpfaB697Ss0VXjMT34rCMzwjTlIg6Bx1ZH4jNNQKx9ddAv0JrBdzZYxrIIaXVZX9eFopuq1B8_7rlpVuPt5oiMVd6M5HUQMdwlfjHbY0fNvXtN6auENn4AGeC3Bpk/s1600/IMG_2150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKzzZZw0Nc4FyLm-RpfaB697Ss0VXjMT34rCMzwjTlIg6Bx1ZH4jNNQKx9ddAv0JrBdzZYxrIIaXVZX9eFopuq1B8_7rlpVuPt5oiMVd6M5HUQMdwlfjHbY0fNvXtN6auENn4AGeC3Bpk/s640/IMG_2150.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christ's Church Cathedral</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTcdCmbzpqKdywS_P_Vo06a-TLe4cDL8jc6GJxSUZCglULkvEUQeEHu9tmVkLjwcad1uiIleW5aKQvdjTUEsxLnBg9I3ZIcZ6UH-AJaHp_c70aZTVJ5iAjo131L08dMgibwLavO6RHkIP/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTcdCmbzpqKdywS_P_Vo06a-TLe4cDL8jc6GJxSUZCglULkvEUQeEHu9tmVkLjwcad1uiIleW5aKQvdjTUEsxLnBg9I3ZIcZ6UH-AJaHp_c70aZTVJ5iAjo131L08dMgibwLavO6RHkIP/s640/IMG_2151.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wandering the grounds of Christ's Church Cathedral</td></tr>
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We spent some time exploring the <a href="http://www.cbl.ie/" target="_blank">Chester Beatty Library</a>, a free museum featuring ancient artwork and a tranquil rooftop garden. The type of art featured at the Chester Beatty Library was not my favorite, but nonetheless, we enjoyed our stroll through the exhibits. We also spent some time in Dubhlinn Garden, a circular park that sat between the library and Dublin Castle and provided an oasis from the surrounding city.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwTkGcoKNRMl1JC69IhoYVg2GUc53vsXu8suz4ClQGrp97L7shPNh7r-C6kfQmy9T4hwpav7ZcleFF_ctUAXftbOYFdZoNKmkW7d1XvwZHeiIua66anqOuAwxBlOhuQlHh_pjkFFS0f2I/s1600/IMG_2192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwTkGcoKNRMl1JC69IhoYVg2GUc53vsXu8suz4ClQGrp97L7shPNh7r-C6kfQmy9T4hwpav7ZcleFF_ctUAXftbOYFdZoNKmkW7d1XvwZHeiIua66anqOuAwxBlOhuQlHh_pjkFFS0f2I/s640/IMG_2192.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Dubhlinn Garden</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXUEPW85wvRz0jmKSYXkp9klCahse_NwG-yqf__v4OW-Lod9VNveTeK8VbW7GE1gMfIIQLbVH_kq8NqwlMP1esaZL5m3rl_UtbwMqq0d2HipJDDEYC5vTp_O1xvcewmgF9hyphenhyphenrP64tcGwu/s1600/dublin_castle_cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXUEPW85wvRz0jmKSYXkp9klCahse_NwG-yqf__v4OW-Lod9VNveTeK8VbW7GE1gMfIIQLbVH_kq8NqwlMP1esaZL5m3rl_UtbwMqq0d2HipJDDEYC5vTp_O1xvcewmgF9hyphenhyphenrP64tcGwu/s640/dublin_castle_cropped.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dublin Castle (part of it, anyway)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRMzgvM79oonMvxbrcvfBSOcr5vXHjWRGK1F6U3P_bnbw9dJOpxCVR9_WSKBlyWhcmucDMn8P40HMkY22C1mb0cYu5rc224TKPPwREJIiMzPXyVfDYgRDZeM3Lf5wrmGSJP8YP66XSsbpu/s1600/IMG_2191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRMzgvM79oonMvxbrcvfBSOcr5vXHjWRGK1F6U3P_bnbw9dJOpxCVR9_WSKBlyWhcmucDMn8P40HMkY22C1mb0cYu5rc224TKPPwREJIiMzPXyVfDYgRDZeM3Lf5wrmGSJP8YP66XSsbpu/s640/IMG_2191.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gardens surrounding the area</td></tr>
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Towards the end of the first full day of our trip, we found ourselves in a celebratory mood. Fortunately, one of Dublin’s premier nightlife neighborhoods stood within stumbling distance of our hotel. The Temple Bar neighborhood contained bars, restaurants, theaters, and other cultural points of interest. We targeted one of Temple Bar’s most famous bars - the <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g186605-d188823-Reviews-The_Temple_Bar_Pub-Dublin_County_Dublin.html" target="_blank">Temple Bar Pub</a>.<br />
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This classic Irish pub featured an iconic red exterior, live music, and a loyal following. The huge crowd that night meant we had to fight for a table, but the struggle was worth it. We enjoyed a plate of bangers and mash, a couple of rounds of delicious beer, and some sensational people watching. The back of the menu laid out the bar’s history, and we were surprised to learn the establishment had a sister bar in Chicago. When we got back to Chicago, we realized the sister bar was catty-corner from our local grocery store.<br />
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With our meals finished and our glasses empty, fatigue finally caught up to us, and we confessed we were too darn tired to hit up the other bars in the area. We made one last trek across the River Liffey, and then crashed hard in our comfy hotel bed. We’d need a full night’s sleep to tackle what lied ahead.<br />
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After a whirlwind trip around Ireland, we arrived back in Dublin a week later to spend one more night in the city. We didn't do much exploring that evening, but we had a blast checking out our hotel, the <a href="http://www.clontarfcastle.ie/" target="_blank">Clontarf Castle Hotel</a>. This castle-turned-hotel straddled its past and present beautifully. Castle-themed decorations and props displayed throughout the hotel, which made for great photo ops. At the same time, the beds were comfy, the rooms were outfitted with wifi and plenty of outlets, and the restaurant included an outdoor patio and served delicious food. We spent a fun and relaxing evening there - the perfect ending to our time in Ireland.<br />
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What happened in between our two stops in Dublin? Stay tuned to find out!<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/08/ireland-part-2-galway.html">Check out Ireland, Part 2: Galway</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-4727226780986745502016-07-24T19:51:00.001-07:002016-08-08T12:33:05.236-07:00Flying with a Baby without Landing in the Loony Bin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There comes a time in every world-traveler-turned-parent's life when you cross over to the other side. Last time you boarded an airplane, you were avoiding babies like you avoid extra baggage fees. Now you’re the one boarding the plane with a living, breathing, crying carry-on.<br />
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Mrs. Tires and I crossed over when we brought our eight-month-old son Jacoby on a Southwest flight from Chicago to San Diego. Along the way, we learned a few tricks to keep our baby happy and land with our sanity intact. Hopefully, these tricks will help minimize hissy fits. Your hissy fits. And maybe your baby’s hissy fits, too.<br />
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<h3>
From Car Seat to Cabin</h3>
<h3>
<br /><b style="font-size: medium;">Get there Early</b></h3>
Traveling with a baby is an anxiety-ridden endeavor. Giving yourself some extra time will allow you to get your things in order without the added stress of sweating the clock. Additionally, if you’re bringing breast milk aboard, you'll need the extra time because the TSA will have to screen it. During this process, the bottles are scanned, one at a time, in a black box resembling a microwave. This extra security measure takes a while, as does the process of finding an agent who knows how to work the microwave.<br />
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<b>Bring a Gate Check Bag</b><br />
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If you’re bringing a car seat, bring a gate check bag. It’s common for car seats to be strewn about, smeared, or even damaged when stowed as checked baggage, and these bags help protect the seat. We opted for the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Best-Seat-Travel-Airplane-Check/dp/B00Y8LYYR2/ref=sr_1_1_a_it?ie=UTF8&qid=1470683810&sr=8-1&keywords=flight+joy+car+seat+travel+bag" target="_blank">Flight Joy bag</a> by Bunny Jolly, which worked well. Having the seat in a container provided us with some peace of mind, and the backpack-like straps made the seat easier to carry. It also made me look like a snail.<br />
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Note: Gate check bags don't protect your car seat from being damaged, so there's still a risk that it will be compromised during the flight. </div>
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<b>Gate Crawl</b><br />
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If everything goes well, an early arrival should afford you some extra time at the gate. This can be put to good use by allowing your baby to burn some energy crawling or walking around. They’ll be cooped up for a while on the plane, so it’s best to let them move while the opportunity is still there. Open crawl space can be tough to find, but we found an unused terminal, which gave us all the space we needed. We motivated Jacoby to cruise by putting a favorite toy twenty feet or so away from him and he crawled until it was time to board.<br />
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<h3>
Seat Selection Saves Sanity</h3>
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Whether you fly with a general admission-style airline such as Southwest or pre-select your spot, proper seat selection goes a long way towards a successful flight. In your baby-less days, you probably avoided the back of the plane, but as a parent, those last few rows are gold. First of all, they’re close to the bathroom, making you more equipped to deal with a diaper disaster. Second, if you’re on a pick-your-own-seat-style plane, you’re more likely to get the entire row to yourself, as other travelers avoid the rear of the plane. This extra seat is a huge asset, as it allows for more space and more storage. Finally, the extra noise in the back of the plane acts as the world’s best white noise machine, which increases the chances of your baby taking a nap. We were fortunate enough to get a family nap in shortly after take-off.<br />
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<h3>
In-Flight Infant Entertainment</h3>
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<b>New Toys</b><br />
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Items your baby has never seen or played with before go a long way towards keeping them occupied. Plan ahead and show up equipped with some new stuff for baby to check out. The new toys we brought kept Jacoby’s attention for a while, and more time engaged meant less time crawling, kicking and spazzing.<br />
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Friends of ours recommended the dollar store trick, wherein a few bucks spent at the Dollar Tree produces several objects intriguing to an infant. Rolling these items out throughout the flight brings peace to the seats. We didn’t try this trick during our trip to San Diego, but the collection of free snacks Southwest provided made for a great distraction and implied that the dollar store trick would work, too.<br />
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<h3>
<b style="font-size: medium;"><br /></b> <b style="font-size: medium;">Finger Food</b></h3>
Constant feeding can keep baby quiet and content. Picking puffs off a freshly-wiped tray table is a great distraction, and a mouth full of food makes fussing more difficult. Jacoby had a steady supply of <a href="http://happyfamilybrands.com/product_lines/happy-puffs/" target="_blank">Happy Baby Superfood Puffs</a> throughout the flight, and the whole plane was better off because of it.<br />
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<b>The iPad</b><br />
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Put a screen in front of someone, and it’s almost impossible for them to look away. Babies are no different. We try to limit Jacoby’s exposure to screens, but we made an exception for our cross-country flight. Before our trip, I searched for apps that would help us during our journey. There are lots of apps out there for kids, but when you’re searching for apps that don't rely on wifi and are appropriate for babies under one, the search becomes considerably more difficult. The most effective app I found was the <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/baby-bubbles-free-ad-free/id842788895?mt=8" target="_blank">Baby Bubbles app</a>, a simple app that involves popping floating bubbles by tapping them. Jacoby enjoyed mashing the screen, and he managed to burst a few bubbles while taking a few precious minutes off the flight.<br />
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Three-quarters of the way through the flight, Jacoby got a bit restless, and we had already reached the bottom of our bag of tricks. Once again, the iPad came in quite handy, with an assist from the airline. Southwest offers free streaming television and included among their selections is a constant feed of Mickey Mouse cartoons from Disney Jr. Jacoby was transfixed on the bright colors and movement on the screen, and the display calmed him down just when it seemed like a meltdown was on its way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwguNxGMR2JjlryA61IM7u-iEjYS028irpkF4xt2LG-jicQ_neX_HwqmtEXQIlEk1ca2yQCG_19AOtWTcV1TVY5vAF_c3svAxpWHK1MtBNNm8USQV8LQQgnF96b4DcmDcSeKSNWv_yh4Gb/s1600/IMG_8761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwguNxGMR2JjlryA61IM7u-iEjYS028irpkF4xt2LG-jicQ_neX_HwqmtEXQIlEk1ca2yQCG_19AOtWTcV1TVY5vAF_c3svAxpWHK1MtBNNm8USQV8LQQgnF96b4DcmDcSeKSNWv_yh4Gb/s640/IMG_8761.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I can’t say the entire trip was smooth or that Jacoby was a perfect angel the entire time. However, the flight went better than we had hoped, and as an added bonus, other passengers went out of their way to compliment Jacoby’s behavior on the flight while we disembarked. As we strolled towards baggage claim, Mrs. Tires and I let out huge sighs of relief. We had landed safely on the other side, with our baby still in tow and our sanity intact.<br />
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Be brave and go forth, fellow traveler-turned-parent. There is life on the other side.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7GEEC0WLemPkBg2HR6QqdC2rNMz8NwELc9Lyoatq40Nu5VqPgopYrc18mdIFGAY3awlE5fzDpknklfsm8FIqs17g4kYyLcBCaNQItEctZNbvhMhb0yzKxQS03z8URDZYL9Jh00e88XG7/s1600/IMG_8687.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7GEEC0WLemPkBg2HR6QqdC2rNMz8NwELc9Lyoatq40Nu5VqPgopYrc18mdIFGAY3awlE5fzDpknklfsm8FIqs17g4kYyLcBCaNQItEctZNbvhMhb0yzKxQS03z8URDZYL9Jh00e88XG7/s640/IMG_8687.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacoby is ready for his next adventure</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-84808583908394323672016-05-04T09:06:00.000-07:002016-05-04T10:44:49.145-07:00Paris, France<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="s1">I’ve been dreading telling this story. My trepidation is partially attributed to reliving my time in the City of Lights. Paris was among my least favorite destinations, as it totally lived up to its snobby, highfalutin, visitor-hating stereotype. The rest of my angst comes from looking back at myself as a young globetrotter. At the time, I lived up to my </span>naive, monolingual, loud American stereotype as well. </div>
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<span class="s1"><i>Note: When I visited Paris, I wasn’t quite the shutterbug I am now, so I don’t have a lot of photos to share. As such, I’ve supplemented with royalty-free pictures from pixabay.com that match the memories in my mind's eye. </i></span></div>
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<span class="s1">My study abroad program in Stirling, Scotland in 2002 gave me a chance to explore Europe. After spending a few days in London, I took the chunnel to Paris. The ride was smooth and relaxing. I wouldn’t be that relaxed again until I left France. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">When I arrived at the train station in Paris, I found a ticket kiosk that would sell me a subway pass to my friend Jenny's neighborhood. The interface was all in French. I didn't speak a lick of French. I attempted to decipher the menu, but the options were literally foreign to me. I was overtaken by a feeling of desperation. I had no clue how to get myself a ticket, and I was afraid I’d never figure it out. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As I helplessly poked around the kiosk menu, a swarthy-looking character approached me and offered to help me out. I was suspicious of him right away, but I was so flustered, I felt I didn’t have a choice but to accept his assistance. In broken English, he offered to sell me a ticket he already owned. Still suspicious, yet somewhat relieved, I accepted his ticket and asked him how much. He said €40. I had no clue what the cost would be, but that price sounded pretty high. I questioned him, and he pointed to an area on the screen that clearly displayed the number 40. Europe had just moved from the Franc to the Euro a couple of months earlier, so the price was listed in both currencies. He was pointing to the price in Francs, and I knew it. I tried to argue with him, but he kept </span>pointing to the number 40 and saying unintelligible things in broken English. I knew it was a scam, but I didn’t see any other way out of my predicament. With great reluctance, I handed over the €40, took the ticket, and walked away sheepishly. I had been in the city all of five minutes, and already Paris' disregard of foreigners and my naiveté were screwing me over. </div>
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<span class="s1">My uneasy mindset stayed with me as I boarded the train. I still wasn’t sure I’d make it. Fortunately I got to my destination, and Jenny was there to greet me. I breathed several signs of relief as we embraced. </span>After dropping my stuff off and touring her stylish French digs, we headed out to a cafe in her neighborhood. It was a gorgeous night, so we snagged some outdoor seats and enjoyed some wine while we caught up. We had a wonderful conversation, and I was thrilled to be in the company of someone who could speak the language. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">While we conversed, we were routinely interrupted by people selling trinkets. They showed no shame in delivering their pitch to sell small sprigs of flowers or laminated poems. It got annoying quickly. Jenny reported that kind of thing was normal in Paris. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Half way through our second glass of wine, our attention was again diverted, this time by a tricked out black car that screeched into a nearby intersection and did an abrupt U-turn that was straight out of The Fast and the Furious. The maneuver sent the smell of burning rubber into that air and made a ton of noise, which drew the attention of everyone within earshot. The whole block went silent for a second or two, except for the sound of the car speeding off in the direction it came. Jenny reported that kind of thing was definitely not normal in Paris. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As the night went on, I noticed our waiter's interactions with Jenny were increasingly curt. When I asked Jenny if she noticed this too, her expression changed, and she started addressing me as if she was breaking difficult news. She explained that in French culture, it was customary to speak softly, rarely raising your voice above an audible whisper. I had been rambling on in my normal booming American voice the whole time, and she theorized that my volume caused the cold shoulder. Once she pointed it out, I observed everyone around me speaking in hushed tones. In comparison, I was indeed speaking rather loudly. I started feeling terrible for drawing attention to us by being a typical obnoxious American. At the same time, I was also annoyed that such an infraction would warrant rude treatment from a waiter, and example of the snootiness much of the world expects from Parisians. Jenny would be living near that cafe for several more months, so for the sake of her reputation, I promised I'd keep my voice down. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Jenny cleared her schedule the next day so she could show me around. We started our day at Les Deux Magots, a cafe made famous for hosting the likes of Hemingway, Sartre, Picasso, James Joyce, Camus and other well-known writers and artists. It was a gorgeous day, so we snagged a seat outside and enjoyed delicious espresso drinks and a few snacks while we watched the world go by. After an interaction with the waiter at the cafe, Jenny explained to me that waiting tables in Paris was a prestigious and highly competitive position, and Parisian waiters were held in high regard. I did my best to keep my voice down so I didn't offend our well-respected waiter. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Caffeinated and satiated, we walked to the Jardin de Luxembourg, a huge park with lots of greenery, winding paths and gorgeous gardens. We took up residence in the center of the park, where several rather uncomfortable chairs surrounded a wide but shallow fountain. We got cozy there and had a blast people-watching and enjoying the sun. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Eventually we decided to stroll through the park. During our walk, we ran into the Statue of Liberty. Yup. It was a six foot tall, proportional replica of lady liberty. A plaque in front informed us that the statue commemorated France donating the Statue of Liberty to America. I took this as another example of the French living up to their global reputation. Leave it to France to erect a statue to commemorate their own generosity. Despite the audacity, Jardin de Luxembourg made for a lovely stroll and served as a great destination on a sunny day. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">From the park, we wandered to a famous bookstore called Shakespeare and Company Books. The original version of this store attracted the likes of Ezra Pound and F. Scott Fitzgerald, and the newer version pulled in some of my beat generation heroes, including Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Curso and William S. Burroughs. It was a small, cramped bookstore jam-packed with wall-to-wall books. On the surface it wasn’t too unlike any other bookstore, but apparently it often drew famous and up-and-coming writers and huge crowds. Fortunately it wasn’t too crowded when we visited, and we enjoyed a quick browse through the stacks. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">After a stop for lunch (where I again practiced my soft Parisian voice), we headed off to one of Paris’ most famous landmarks, the Arc De Triomphe. Navigating our way there was a trip, as the Arc was located smack dab in the middle of a fourteen-street intersection. The Arc was </span>impressively decorated, and bigger than I had anticipated. Getting to the top required hiking up a serious series of spiraled stairs (200+ steps), but we were determined to do it. The Arc’s roof served as an observation deck, and fortunately it wasn’t crowded when we got up there, huffing and puffing. We enjoyed the view from the top for a while and took in the city from all angles. I’m glad I got to see the Arc De Triomphe, but it was a bit anticlimactic and not particularly engaging. Essentially it was one of those landmarks you visit, say, “well, there it is,” and move on. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Move on we did. We headed off to dinner at an Italian restaurant that was a favorite of Jenny's. Our meal was delicious, but the youthful naiveté I displayed there left a bad taste in my mouth. Our waiter greeted me in French initially, and I responded with a blank, fearful look before gesturing to Jenny, who took over the communication. She also had to translate the menu for me. This made me feel rather sheepish, and it reminded me of the challenges inherent in traveling to a non-English speaking country. Soon after, the waiter returned with the bottle of wine we ordered, and he promptly poured me a taste. He then looked at me expectantly, and I met his gaze with that same confused, scared look. Jenny told me it was my responsibility to taste the wine and approve of it. My face turned as red as the wine as she explained this tradition, and I quickly took a sip and nodded as if I knew what I was supposed to taste. With that, he poured two full glasses and I enjoyed a few comforting sips to combat the embarrassment. Looking back, I can’t help but laugh at my twenty-one-year-old self for not knowing how to handle a simple wine pouring. Ah well. Nothing a delicious Italian meal couldn’t erase. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Our whirlwind tour of Paris concluded with a hike to Montmartre, a former artist hangout turned tourist spot with narrow, brick-lined streets housing bars, restaurants, cafes, galleries, gift shops, street artists and musicians. The vibe was fun and inviting, and it made for a wonderful stroll. During our walk, we passed an Irish pub. I had been studying in Scotland for the last couple of months, so bellying up for a pint had become second nature. I suggested we go in for a drink. Initially Jenny wasn’t too keen on the idea, as drinking beer at a bar was decidedly un-French. Apparently Paris was too good for a delicious brew at the end of a long day. In my book, that’s another tally in the loss column. Eventually I convinced her and we went in. The beer prices shocked me. A beverage that would cost €2 in Scotland went for a whopping €9 in Paris. Sheesh. Regardless, the beer was cold and refreshing, and it was great to step into a familiar environment after being on foreign soil for so long. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">After taking the last sips of our drinks, we walked towards the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, a huge white church in the center of Montmartre with a sprawling sloped lawn in front. We joined the large crowd of tourists and locals comfortably lounging on the lawn, uncorked a bottle wine and watched the city below light up as darkness settled in. As the day drew to a close, I had to admit that despite its stereotypical shortcomings, Paris delivered some enchanting moments, with our time on the lawn overlooking the city being one of them. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Jenny had class the next day, so I was on my own. My first stop was Paris’ most famous landmark, the Eiffel Tower. Jenny gave me specific instructions on how to get there, and I managed to find the tower without getting ripped off, a minor miracle. The walk there was long and sweaty, and the streets were lined with vendors and beggars. It was a bit unsettling, and my disdain for Paris grew as I approached the tower. Adding to this sentiment was my initial impression of the tower once it was within eyesight. I was surprised to see that the tower’s metal was a drab brown color, which was quite different than the gorgeous grey steel I had always assumed it was made out of. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I feared I was up for yet another disappointment as I got in an unfathomably long line to get tickets. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIqnTJCGsx0BeThz-hnp5MC49LzCaOLiuzZ-SivqrVHH_Kg-wlwMOOhvQoTt2dG6QkS2Qj7cl3HulY1L7AsZx31FPjzwREbrgordBqXpdbViecJHFR4MJnv5weUWa9z91QbA-PMe2Yckn/s1600/eiffel-tower-1161353_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIqnTJCGsx0BeThz-hnp5MC49LzCaOLiuzZ-SivqrVHH_Kg-wlwMOOhvQoTt2dG6QkS2Qj7cl3HulY1L7AsZx31FPjzwREbrgordBqXpdbViecJHFR4MJnv5weUWa9z91QbA-PMe2Yckn/s640/eiffel-tower-1161353_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">However, things changed in a hurry when I struck up a conversation with the family in front of me. They were visiting Paris from Spain, and they were extremely kind and welcoming. I was heading to Spain the next day, so I used our meeting as an opportunity to practice my Spanish. We conversed for quite a while, telling our stories and comparing notes on Paris. They were very forgiving of my rudimentary Spanish, and they gave me a few pointers to improve my language skills. They even offered me a job in the States, which would have involved shipping things from Virginia to Columbia. I didn’t dare to inquire about what would be shipped, and they were quite understanding when I politely declined. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As we approached the ticket counter, I read up on the various ticket options. The cheapest option involved walking up 600+ stairs and then taking the elevator to the top, but it was blazing hot and I wasn’t up for the challenge. A slightly more expensive but still affordable option brought visitors to the second level of the tower via an elevator, while the most expensive ticket took that same elevator all the way to the top. The money scammed from me upon my arrival and the expensive beers had seriously cut into my budget, and I considered my options out loud, openly contemplating going only half way up to save some cash. My Spanish friends weren’t having it, and they insisted that I let them purchase my ticket to the top. I was touched by this generous offer, and I gladly accepted, thanking them excessively. We shared an elevator to the top, where I marveled at the inner workings of the tower. Exposed wheels, pulleys and cables worked harmoniously together to pull the elevator up. It was such a cool process to witness, and it started to change my impression of the Eiffel Tower. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFOmuy7uW-0PdAID86LaDzKvXht-IXin3ptBsoBuc_vZtrut3am82LsZXXpl8L6EvaO3vHwRd3HJSU4b3dKi-rXQp1xFCyvT0P_YzGe8nyBKmf1dEgLJFf40q6oCHY9ARghFIC732uEXda/s1600/paris+-+inner+workings+of+eiffel+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFOmuy7uW-0PdAID86LaDzKvXht-IXin3ptBsoBuc_vZtrut3am82LsZXXpl8L6EvaO3vHwRd3HJSU4b3dKi-rXQp1xFCyvT0P_YzGe8nyBKmf1dEgLJFf40q6oCHY9ARghFIC732uEXda/s640/paris+-+inner+workings+of+eiffel+tower.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">When we finally got to the top, the view was fantastic. The river below looked gorgeous, and I got a real sense of how vast Paris truly was. The observation deck was enclosed by a metal fence which interfered with the view somewhat, but I was able to get my camera through the diamond-shaped fence links to get a few shots. The photo at the beginning of this post is one such shot. Here are a couple more: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR42K7qlna7zFtJQLb9_f8t5G4MFqNOwkxTcG-sm1c04YK8jcB0cFrRkyoeB-t48caSMCkK2tB9NfdCrQPhB4MpMMWCHmjdH6dx-UY3N9QYxuhwaYpupkCPI7hlxleVEtftUov7LUYCsO3/s1600/paris+-+view+from+the+eiffel+tower+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR42K7qlna7zFtJQLb9_f8t5G4MFqNOwkxTcG-sm1c04YK8jcB0cFrRkyoeB-t48caSMCkK2tB9NfdCrQPhB4MpMMWCHmjdH6dx-UY3N9QYxuhwaYpupkCPI7hlxleVEtftUov7LUYCsO3/s640/paris+-+view+from+the+eiffel+tower+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxBOOTtfV9fpFK8M1dSKsSR6NF3LVxRBya0ZLjei1uswDDU6sqrNyfJjcBnIiS0xbujp51y2h8Arm2Yf2rasjAAty4tb5t3MbEcT7JjNfRwLpslDV5G6yneIPrEFcjLJO61lkt3L_kqvh/s1600/paris+-+view+from+the+eiffel+tower+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxBOOTtfV9fpFK8M1dSKsSR6NF3LVxRBya0ZLjei1uswDDU6sqrNyfJjcBnIiS0xbujp51y2h8Arm2Yf2rasjAAty4tb5t3MbEcT7JjNfRwLpslDV5G6yneIPrEFcjLJO61lkt3L_kqvh/s640/paris+-+view+from+the+eiffel+tower+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">While circling the tower and taking in the ever-changing views, I ran into my Spanish friends again, and they took this shot of me in exchange for snapping a few family photos for them. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvl3vHkl8rdk_Nas4p-PHjTlppgcOTNt-FCFxIuJdPDQ25BwiMd8GjNuk7rKD6byCbX4fE0gUpkXgi0aMth9SDh9bZV-kGZttQy649URq9VJ-aNekp5A_DFoiLqa3tN1MX4Tc5TEbz5py-/s1600/paris+-+me+on+top+of+the+eiffel+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvl3vHkl8rdk_Nas4p-PHjTlppgcOTNt-FCFxIuJdPDQ25BwiMd8GjNuk7rKD6byCbX4fE0gUpkXgi0aMth9SDh9bZV-kGZttQy649URq9VJ-aNekp5A_DFoiLqa3tN1MX4Tc5TEbz5py-/s640/paris+-+me+on+top+of+the+eiffel+tower.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">After admiring the view a little longer and marveling at the inner workings of the tower again on the way down, I took a walk over to Champ de Mars, a huge, open park adjacent to the tower, where I staked out a spot on the grass and stared at the tower for a while. It’s not every day that you’re in the presence of one of the world’s most famous attractions, so I sat there and savored it. As I reflected on my Eiffel Tower experience, I started to think that maybe I had been too harsh on Paris overall. Maybe the place wasn’t so bad. Maybe I was even starting to like it. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4v4LzekO9n-1DppNMbTBb1msetaEfjzYYozC0ZSl6gkthw0Q4k27O1_LpqGHsFmyJD-N5cjTUFrBqc44TTG2bIDtP5X8M8Qm8LpwDrlSIjtU6B4EWMXC7UGV1NUqUNyMJuSMeUcWKlLX1/s1600/paris-988112_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4v4LzekO9n-1DppNMbTBb1msetaEfjzYYozC0ZSl6gkthw0Q4k27O1_LpqGHsFmyJD-N5cjTUFrBqc44TTG2bIDtP5X8M8Qm8LpwDrlSIjtU6B4EWMXC7UGV1NUqUNyMJuSMeUcWKlLX1/s640/paris-988112_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">As I contemplated my changing mentality, I realized my visit had worked up quite an appetite. I found a pastry counter on one of the nearby streets, and as I approached, that helpless feeling of not being able to communicate crept in again. My stomach wasn’t about to give in to my fear, so I bit the bullet and tried to order some food. Perhaps the vendors near the tower would be more welcoming to foreigners? Ummm…no. Instead of putting in the slightest bit of effort to figure out the meaning of my hand gestures and short English phrases, the lady behind the counter gave me a snotty, disapproving look and make me work for the ham and cheese croissant I was trying to order. It was embarrassing, and it brought all of my frustration with Paris back up to the surface. The notion that I was starting to like Paris went straight out le window. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">After swallowing my pride and washing it down with the croissant, I headed towards my final destination in Paris, the Louvre. I didn’t know much about the Louvre going into my visit, other than that it was a famous art museum that housed the Mona Lisa. As I approached the museum's protruding triangular structure, I was struck by its modern, exciting design.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzp-8u628FoAoXRCv4J0C8b0FgXxz8Jzg-X0LtNYcS2UzQRArWAhYUQ79NI-Gio7ddOC_aadY9vYk8rm-0WDkqaZmPqUim67rQViJZ635emHOl2adIrbE14qzaALYrDzGoqR24wtWDTJyp/s1600/pyramid-1049996_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzp-8u628FoAoXRCv4J0C8b0FgXxz8Jzg-X0LtNYcS2UzQRArWAhYUQ79NI-Gio7ddOC_aadY9vYk8rm-0WDkqaZmPqUim67rQViJZ635emHOl2adIrbE14qzaALYrDzGoqR24wtWDTJyp/s640/pyramid-1049996_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Unfortunately, the art inside was nowhere near as contemporary. The majority of the pieces were quite old, with many of them dating back to the days where the main purpose of art was to praise Jesus. I wandered from room to room, glancing at painting after painting of JC. While I could appreciate the significance of the paintings, that style of art was not my chalice of tea. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Eventually I made my way to the Mona Lisa, the museum’s prized exhibit. Da Vinci’s master work drew quite a crowd, and it was extremely difficult to get a close look. I managed to get a peek at it from afar, and my main impression was that it was much smaller than I had anticipated. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTjJNTy3MaPsESjarFr833fuxfScuncAcqiSvo0QkoY8nCbZR5xj0KfDzl0Q55tTkIyeR2QVUrOHABJKIsvpA0r-g7EQ3LgmXsTgrYFBFZXBiHhLRYwVfj-9ypTrbLVW7R6kBVGKe_B_f/s1600/da-vinci-863125_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTjJNTy3MaPsESjarFr833fuxfScuncAcqiSvo0QkoY8nCbZR5xj0KfDzl0Q55tTkIyeR2QVUrOHABJKIsvpA0r-g7EQ3LgmXsTgrYFBFZXBiHhLRYwVfj-9ypTrbLVW7R6kBVGKe_B_f/s640/da-vinci-863125_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of pixabay.com</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">I had much more success viewing one of the other well-known pieces, the Law Code of Hammurabi, a huge stone monolith with the tenants of Hammurabi’s code meticulously carved into the stone. It was an engaging and impressive piece, and the craft and significance of it was quite the draw, making the artifact the saving grace of yet another disappointing Paris experience. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">After returning from the Louvre, I enjoyed one last evening with my dear friend Jenny. In the waning hours of our visit, I confessed my f</span>rustration with not speaking the language in a country that had no tolerance for such behavior, and talked about my dislike for Paris overall. She totally understood, and said some words that still ring true: Paris isn’t for everyone. </div>
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<span class="s1">It certainly isn’t for me. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-82269124741964515422016-04-19T18:09:00.000-07:002016-04-21T21:28:53.494-07:00Mexico, Part 3: Our Tropical Honeymoon in Riviera Maya<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOs21LnjSPecqyBl9e_hiJuaJyB5KY1nIjzUjhmEGzxUZu4dlG3rnzn1fb7KMl2BODQcnA911ebhLa7GgUljNziNuXhoBqCuqUEKdTLKmsneF4fIMCh_crMYjhcKOKVD7Gj5y0Bxsnh8aj/s1600/IMG_1007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOs21LnjSPecqyBl9e_hiJuaJyB5KY1nIjzUjhmEGzxUZu4dlG3rnzn1fb7KMl2BODQcnA911ebhLa7GgUljNziNuXhoBqCuqUEKdTLKmsneF4fIMCh_crMYjhcKOKVD7Gj5y0Bxsnh8aj/s640/IMG_1007.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our tropical honeymoon began at the conclusion of <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/03/mexico-part-2-beachfront-wedding-in.html">our beachfront destination wedding</a>. The newly minted Mrs. Tires and I intended to fill our remaining six days in Riviera Maya, Mexico with a tour of ancient ruins, some spelunking, a dip with dolphins, and plenty of tropical beverages by the pool. For the first two days, we'd stay at <a href="http://www.dreamsresorts.com/riviera-cancun?gclid=Cj0KEQjw5ti3BRD89aDFnb3SxPcBEiQAssnp0o1K5uTZDCKStJElRVAXg6oEUTS2QGvHam0365JAKNEaAsFy8P8HAQ" target="_blank">Dreams Riviera Cancun</a>, the resort where we had just said I do. We'd end our trip at a resort in the southern portion of Riviera Maya. That was the plan, at least...</div>
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After an informal post-wedding breakfast with our guests, Mrs Tires and I kicked off our honeymoon with a trip to the on-site spa. Mrs. Tires used the spa gift certificate included in our wedding package for a full body massage, and my dogs were barking so loud after dancing all night at the wedding that I was actually about to pony up real cash for an hour-long foot massage for the first time in my life.</div>
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The entire experience at the spa was fantastic. While we were waiting for our massage therapists, we hung out on the comfy couches in the lounge, which was adorned with bamboo finishing. A couple of carafes doled out uniquely colored liquid concoctions, each with its own healing quality. We enjoyed a sampling of each drink while we watched a strange but soothing video of a woman swimming with manatees. From there we were lead to private huts, where we received our massages. Mrs. Tires is a massage therapist, and she said her massage met her high standards, and I was amazed that someone could work on a pair of feet for a full hour. </div>
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As we exited the spa, we ran into a friend who was organizing a massive field trip into Puerto Morelos, and he invited us to join. On the hotel's recommendation, we took a sixteen passenger van to the waterfront portion of town, where a small but impressive series of restaurants sat ready to feed tourists and locals alike. We chose a spot called La Panza es Primero, which translates to The Belly Is First. In addition to the clever name, several other factors drew us there: their famous guacamole, their luchador theme, their balcony overlooking the ocean, and, most importantly, their world-renowned margaritas. </div>
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None of these items disappointed. The guac and the 'ritas exceeded our high expectations, and the theme added a fun vibe. We soaked it in, even donning luchador masks at one point to get into the spirit. Not to be overlooked, the food was outstanding. </div>
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That night was a mellow one by design. The previous few days had been a whirlwind, we had to be up early the next day for an excursion, and we also had to pack, as we'd be checking out later the next day. Sadness seeped into our suite as we packed up our wedding supplies and reminisced. Fortunately we were too tired for the post-wedding blues to last too long. </div>
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Bleary-eyed and just a couple sips into our first cups of coffee, we met up with a few friends the next morning and boarded a van filled with several other hotel guests. We were off to Tulum so we could bare witness to the remains of an ancient Mayan city. </div>
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Tulum was inhabited by the Mayans up until sometime in the 15th century, and many of the city's large stone buildings still stand. The ruins draw many a tourist, ourselves included. When we arrived, we took a long walk to the visitor center, where we were assigned to a tour group. Our appointed guide was knowledgable and engaging. He was of Mayan descent, and it was clear he was passionate about Tulum.</div>
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He led us from one ruin to the next, explaining the purpose of each building, and sprinkling in some history along the way. It was 2011, so murmurings of the December 2012 date that represented the end of the Mayan calendar (and therefore the end of the world) were already swirling. Our guide assured us the date didn't mean the end of the world, just the end of one cycle and the beginning of the next. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">He also informed us that the Mayans never actually used the name Tulum, they called the city Zama. When he explained this, he gave us some details on a movement he was involved in that argued that the name should be changed back to Zama. No luck so far. </span></div>
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One more nugget that stuck with me from our tour was the existence of a liquor the Mayans used to make called xtabentun. It's still produced today, and he promised us it would take our margaritas to the next level. He was right. We sampled it in our 'ritas later on. It added a sweet taste that took a lot of the bite out of the margarita. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">A number of lizards freely roamed the grounds. This amused us to no end. They were everywhere, and some were quite large. Apparently they're common in that part of Mexico.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">At the conclusion of the tour, we were set free to explore the ruins on our own, and the guide recommended we head down to the beach nearby when we were done. We wandered around a few ruins that caught our eye, but it didn't take long before the beach started calling our name. It was pushing 100 degrees that day, and we were anxious to cool off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">The beach was absolutely stunning. The water looked like it was straight out of a postcard, and it was flanked by giant cliffs. Unfortunately we had no idea the beach would be part of the day's activities, so we didn't have our bathing suits. I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but not being prepared to swim in that water is one of them. If you go to Tulum, don't forget your trunks!</span><br />
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It was a long bus ride back to the resort. We were quite tired from the early wakeup and the blazing heat, and even worse, we knew that upon returning to Dreams Riviera Cancun, we'd be departing for good. Checkout didn't take long, and after a few more goodbyes, we got in a cab and took another long drive from DRC to the <a href="http://www.iberostar.com/en/hotels/riviera-maya/iberostar-tucan?gclid=Cj0KEQjwz-i3BRDtn53Z5Z7t4PUBEiQA23q2AAOTtP5YykMVdkiPf1izG3oefmwr971VC6jJwl0q0hkaAlWn8P8HAQ&dclid=COTb0OPD5ssCFc1nAQod874DYg" target="_blank">Iberostar Tucan</a>, where we'd be staying for the remainder of our honeymoon. As far as all-inclusive resorts go, It was a step down from DRC and we knew that, but we had no way of knowing quite what we were getting into. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">The resort looked promising at first, with a stunning, vibrantly-colored lobby, kind greeters and huge, intriguing statues waiting for us when we stepped out of the cab. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">However, a warning sign popped up when they affixed wristbands around our wrists before giving us our keys. </span>They informed us we’d need to wear the bands for the entirety of our stay. Wristbands are a pet peeve of mine, and I wasn’t looking forward to sporting one for the better part of a week.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">With that, a hotel staff member took our bags and lead us on a tour of the resort. While the vibe of the resort was fun and playful, featuring thatched roofs and brightly-colored buildings, we could tell it was going to fall far short of our expectations, as dried grass, chipped paint and crowded common areas greeted us at every turn. Our guide took us by the beach, where it looked like every square inch of sand was taken up by a beach chair or towel. We also walked by the pool with the swim-up bar, which was tiny, sported murky water and looked long-since abandoned. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">Our suspicion was turning into apprehension. Despite this, we kept our spirits up, as we hoped our honeymoon suite would turn things around. Things </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">seemed ok when we first entered our room. It was large, cheerful and featured a humorous, well-intended combination of stuffed swans and rose petals. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14px;">Before bidding us adios, our guide pointed out the mini-fridge, which would be stocked every other day. We peeked inside and saw two Coronas and two bottles of water. Doing some quick math, we realized we were each rationed a half a beer and a half a bottle of water per day. Hardly the fully-stocked fridge at DRC, which was refilled several times a day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">We weren’t quite sure how to proceed from there, and we shared our concerns as we explored the room further. As we poked around, we discovered a laughably uncomfortable bed, grimy, stained bathrobes, and, worst of all, an infestation of bugs. Tiny but plentiful winged creatures seemed to be crawling and flying all over the place, a pet peeve of Mrs. Tires’ that far exceeds my irritation over wristbands. We called the front desk about the bug infestation, and an hour later, a housekeeper showed up with a giant can of Raid, which she immediately started spraying all over the place without saying a word. As the fumes filled the room, we too were fuming.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">We decided to take a walk around the resort to search for redeeming qualities while we let the chemicals in our room do their job. The main feature that drew us to the hotel was the on-site jungle, which promised exotic wildlife, just a stroll away. We were initially impressed with the plant life assembled to create the illusion of walking through a jungle while cruising through a luxury resort, but that was outweighed by the serious lack of wildlife. The animals we witnessed included a rooster in a tree, a caged parrot, and tiny rodents vaguely resembling rats that weren’t part of the jungle specifically and were actually found throughout the resort. We later learned from the hotel staff that they were called sereque, and they were more closely related to rabbits than rats, but by then it was too late. The phony jungle was the last in a series of disappointments that lead us to an inevitable conclusion: this resort just wasn't good enough for our honeymoon. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">We got on the phone and made an international call to Sally, our travel agent at <a href="http://www.saltravel.net/" target="_blank">SAL Travel</a>, who advised us to seek out the <a href="http://www.applevacations.com/" target="_blank">Apple Vacations</a> desk in the lobby and see what arrangements could be made. We did so and talked to a very understanding and accommodating gentleman who started working the phones to see what we'd have to do to stay at our wedding hotel. It took almost an hour, and when he finally got things figured out, he beckoned us with a concerned look on his face. He told us he could book us a room at DRC, but the downside was we'd have to pay an extra $80. I asked him if he meant $80 per night. Nope. $80 total. What he thought was bad news was a delightful surprise to us. We'd gladly pay a one-time $80 fee to leave the skuzziness of the Iberostar for the luxury of DRC. A credit card swipe, some suitcase lugging and a cab ride later, we returned to Dreams Riviera Cancun as happy as could be.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue";"><span style="font-size: 14px;">After checking in and unpacking, we got back into our bathing suits and headed out to the swim-up bar. Some familiar yet surprised faces greeted us at the pool, as some of our friends were still staying at DRC and were enjoying cocktails as we waded into the water. After a joyous reunion, we realized we had enough people to make a reservation at one of the open chefs tables at Hamatsu, the Japanese restaurant at the resort. This restaurant offered open tables for large parties which included a coordinated cooking show. If you've been to Benihana, you've seen this show, but who ever gets tired of knife tricks, onion volcanoes and flaming food? The show was delightfully amusing, and a bit more daring than the US version. We thoroughly enjoyed it, and the food was great too.</span></span><br />
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The next day we mostly stayed at the resort, where we made a point to check out places we hadn't made it to during the days leading up to our wedding. We started by ordering room service (included under the all-inclusive arrangement) and enjoying some breakfast in bed.<br />
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After washing breakfast down with bloody marys at the swing bar (pictured at the top of this post), we snagged some paddles and headed to the wading pool, where Mrs. Tires beat me mercilessly in a game of in-pool ping pong. </div>
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Later in the day, we went on a snorkeling trip which was hosted by a third party vendor set up just down the beach from the resort. Some of my family members from Boston had gone during their stay, and they encouraged us to go for it so we could "see some shaaaks." We showed up at our appointed time, boarded a boat, and met our snorkeling guide, a large Mexican named Bacon.<br />
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After a brief and enjoyable boat ride out to the snorkeling site, we were handed face masks, snorkels, life jackets and flippers, and were told to gear up and dive in. I had never been snorkeling before, and I was surprised there was no orientation before we hopped in the water. I was expecting at least a few tips before jumping in. As it was, we put on our gear and hoisted ourselves off the side of the ship, landing in water that was pleasant and clear.<br />
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Snorkeling was actually pretty straightforward, and I really didn't need the orientation I was expecting. Bacon guided us in general directions, but we were free to swim off wherever we wanted. Bacon also pointed out a few cool things he saw that many people (and predators) overlook, such as crabs hanging out of their tiny caves, stingrays swimming at the bottom of the ocean, and lived-in conch shells. Apparently it was a bad year for snorkeling, and the captain told us the the number of sea creatures out in recent months had been lower than usual. Regardless, we had a great time seeing the vibrantly-colored fish and craggy formations that sat on the bottom of the ocean, and we loved being part of the underwater world for a while.<br />
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While we were glad to have some extra time to check out the resort, we certainly didn't plan on spending our entire time there. We had a couple of excursions planned, one of which was a trip to <a href="http://www.xcaret.com/" target="_blank">Xcaret</a> the next day. This half zoo, half water park sounded right up our alley. If only it had lived up to its promise. Sigh. </div>
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A greyhound-style bus filled with vacation revelers picked us up early the next morning, and we took an hour plus drive to the park. When we approached, the first stop was to drop off people at the zip lining adventure that was adjacent to the park. We felt a twinge of jealousy as they disembarked. Mrs. Tires had always wanted to zip line, and part of us wished we were joining them. Our lackluster experience at Xcaret justified our jealousy. </div>
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When we finally arrived at Xcaret, we found a landscape that seemed like a combination of the Lincoln Park Zoo in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/illinois-part-1-chicago.html">Chicago</a> and a Rainforest Cafe. Animals and attractions were accessible just by wandering the paths that wound around the park, but there were a ton of gift shops and cheesy details that made it feel very commercial and watered down. </div>
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The top draw for us at Xcaret was the opportunity to swim through an underground river that went through caves. I was sure that alone would be worth the price of admission. Boy was I wrong. Before entering the water, we were handed the same gear we were given during our snorkeling adventure the day before. Once we geared up, we got into the river and noticed the river floor was made out of cement. We figured this was just for the area where visitors entered the water, but as we got in and swam, we quickly realized the whole riverbed was paved. In addition, there were a ton of us swimming down the river. Each of us had flippers on (even though we easily could have navigated the river without them) so there was a lot of faces being accidentally kicked with flippers while we swam. The whole thing was too man-made, cheesy and crowded - a rather miserable experience that seriously underwhelmed. We were off to a disappointing start to the day. </div>
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From there, we wandered over to the butterfly haven. This disappointed as well. The number of butterflies paled in comparison to the <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/illinois-part-1-chicago.html">butterfly haven we were used to in Chicago.</a> The waterfall in the center of the haven was gorgeous, but of course Xcaret couldn't resist ruining the view with some carefully placed branding. </div>
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By now we were pretty disappointed with our experience. We were also roasting in the heat. And tired. And maybe a little hung over. We needed some shelter and some fuel, so we wandered over to one of the eateries. To the surprise of no one, the food was overpriced and terrible. At that point, we were about ready to give up on Xcaret. </div>
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However, as we left, we encountered a few key attractions that started to turn things around. They had some really cool animals typically not found in American zoos, and their enclosures were established via deep moats instead of cages, which made the animals feel more accessible. </div>
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While the animals on the other side of the moats were gaining our affection, the wild lizards we saw as we wandered from one attraction to the next amused us as well. </div>
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As we walked further, we passed some relatively scenic pools that were designed for snorkeling, and then found ourselves on a beach with hammocks. We claimed a couple of open hammocks and got comfy, and things started looking up. </div>
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From there, we decided to take a riverboat tour. While I believe any time spent on a boat is a good time, this one ended up a disappointment thanks to its over-Disneyification. </div>
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We had one more attraction in us after the riverboat, and that's when we wandered around to the beach that was roped off and filled with inner tubes. It didn't take us long to swim up to a couple of tubes and have a good float, a great cap to an up and down day. </div>
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Overall I was not to thrilled with our Xcaret experience. The cool animals, the hammocks and the inner tubes were a lot of fun, but I don't think Xcaret really knew what it wanted to be, and the lousy cave swimming, the commercialization of the park and the overall murkiness evident throughout the place made for a rather lackluster destination that I can't recommend. </div>
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We had one more excursion planned, a trip that would allow me to pull out a life-sized sharpie and cross an item off of my lifetime bucket list. We were going for another swim, but this time we would be joined by a few friendly dolphins. <a href="http://www.dreamsresorts.com/sands-cancun/?_vsrefdom=dreams-ppc&gclid=Cj0KEQjw8u23BRCg6YnzmJmPqYgBEiQALf_XzRhXurB3ocz1Tw_UjaERXD-Lvny59ZvgtGcU2DCOxiEaAhII8P8HAQ" target="_blank">Dreams Sands Cancun</a> (the <i>other</i> Dreams property in the Cancun area) offered the chance to swim with dolphins, and we dove in at the chance. </div>
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A van took us from one Dreams property to the other, and on the way, we struck up a conversation with the couple sitting in front of us. They got married on the same day we did, only they were married in their home country of Ireland and then they traveled to Mexico for their honeymoon. She had a beautiful Irish name (which I can no longer recall) and he was a fan of the soccer team that had recently been purchased by the same guy who owned my favorite baseball team. We became fast friends, and we chatted the entire way. I wish I could remember their names. To our Irish friends, if you read this, please reach out! </div>
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The ride up brought us through the main drag of Cancun. I had never been to Cancun proper, and it provided an interesting glimpse into life up there. There were a ton of clubs and bars, as well as every chain novelty restaurant ever created. It seemed quite crowded and chaotic, and I was glad we stayed further down the shoreline instead of in the heart of Cancun. However, in a different life, that whole area would've been a ton of fun. </div>
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When we arrived at Dreams Sands Cancun, we were lead to lockers where we could change into our bathings suits, and then we walked out to the pool area. Dreams sported several large parallel pools, most of which were populated by happy tourists splashing around with dolphins. We were admitted into our designated pool as a couple, where we met two trainers who then introduced us to our designated dolphins. Two dolphins swam our way, did a couple laps around us and then came right up to our sides. We were encouraged to reach out and touch them, and they clicked and quacked as we petted them and tripped out over their rubbery skin. </div>
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From there, we were instructed on how to hold our bodies so the dolphins could do their first trick. The trick involved swimming up behind us, pushing on our feet with their snouts, and pushing us up so we skimmed across the water. It was a tough trick for both the humans and the dolphins, but we both got pretty good rides. </div>
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After that, the trainers walked the dolphins through a series of other tricks, including shaking our hands with their fins, swimming on their backs so we could cradle them, and even giving away some smooches. </div>
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The whole experience was a blast and a half. The dolphins were wonderful creatures, and our interactions with them were effortless. It was amazing to play with a large swimming rubber mammal as if it was a pet. I highly recommend it to everyone. </div>
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Our swim was photographed, and we were offered all of the pictures on a disk for the absurd price of $110. However, we were so taken by the experience, we couldn't resist. </div>
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We chatted with our Irish friends for most of the ride home and then grabbed a drink with them at the swim-up bar when we returned to DRC. After saying farewell to our new friends, we cleaned ourselves up for one more dinner at the resort. That night we ate at El Patio, the restaurant that hosted our rehearsal dinner. It was a wonderful meal, and a great way to wrap up our time at Dreams Riviera Cancun. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfkqzFtNMtDAP2-9HSWsa78_22YdiYdp4ahHXD7G_Dl5NhlQtWYHEJuXnu0SBhl_baiUNkLNJNxXP217_lAcbuCEFwTexFiV3UglBhLSEyfe33Cc-AYn8tUWpbUAUcD9xlg8-NVThFQ96/s1600/IMG_1038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyfkqzFtNMtDAP2-9HSWsa78_22YdiYdp4ahHXD7G_Dl5NhlQtWYHEJuXnu0SBhl_baiUNkLNJNxXP217_lAcbuCEFwTexFiV3UglBhLSEyfe33Cc-AYn8tUWpbUAUcD9xlg8-NVThFQ96/s640/IMG_1038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our flight back to Chicago the next day marked the formal end to our time in Riviera Maya. It was hard to say goodbye. Riviera Maya will always be a special place for us and an important part of our story. Part of us will always be back there, lounging in the sun and having drinks at the swim-up bar. </div>
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More Mexico: </div>
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/02/mexico-part-1-guadalajara-zacoalco.html">Mexico, Part 1: Guadalajara, Zacoalco & Playa Azul</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/03/mexico-part-2-beachfront-wedding-in.html">Mexico, Part 2: Our Riviera Maya Beachfront Wedding</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-11573732225741135512016-03-29T18:31:00.000-07:002016-03-29T21:06:53.152-07:00Mexico, Part 2: Our Riviera Maya Beachfront Wedding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cpqJHpMmKtC26C7jqsswXDWOHOtXjiiKEnsK0SsxqCyHK9XpNoh8jxv5lcyNYd5-71UiZvIlt2Dz6KssM-nyaQ4GWBL4QG88Ivmz4kx_832HgMCHvywQeNsCP0lZkoAl2R2r6vQCVQ6A/s1600/HYMAN-0053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cpqJHpMmKtC26C7jqsswXDWOHOtXjiiKEnsK0SsxqCyHK9XpNoh8jxv5lcyNYd5-71UiZvIlt2Dz6KssM-nyaQ4GWBL4QG88Ivmz4kx_832HgMCHvywQeNsCP0lZkoAl2R2r6vQCVQ6A/s640/HYMAN-0053.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My trips to Mexico included an <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2016/02/mexico-part-1-guadalajara-zacoalco.html" target="_blank">off-the-beaten-path tour of Western Mexico</a> and a border-town stopover during a trip to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/07/texas.html" target="_blank">Texas</a>. However, none of my experiences in Mexico were more prolific than the trip to Riviera Maya Mrs. Tires and I took in 2011. She was Ms. Tires when we flew into the airport in Cancun, but that changed after a few beachfront vows and an exchange of rings, and she was Mrs. Tires by the time we flew home.<br />
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After a <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-2-skydiving-in-sturtevant.html" target="_blank">skydive proposal in Wisconsin</a>, Mrs. Tires and I started planning our wedding almost immediately. Our initial concept involved getting married at a castle in Scotland. We found a handful of castles that would be glad to host our wedding, but getting to them wound involve flights, trains, personal chauffeurs and a hike through the highlands. In the midst of putting these pieces together, I looked at Mrs. Tires and said, "Should we get married on a tropical beach somewhere instead?" My suggestion made her eyes light up the way they do when she realizes something she never thought possible could actually happen. She enthusiastically agreed, and within minutes, we stopped looking for castles and started looking for cabanas.<br />
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Beachfront weddings take many forms. There are upscale places like St. John's, St. Thomas, and many other saints. Then there are more Rastafarian-sounding places like Jamaica and Bermuda. Some places are more tropical, and some more affordable. Some are more adventurous, and some are easier to get to. To sort out our options, we worked with Sally from <a href="http://www.saltravel.net/" target="_blank">SAL Travel</a>. She steered us towards a wedding in the Riviera Maya area of Mexico. Riviera Maya sits on the eastern shore of Mexico and goes roughly from Cancun to Tulum. In between those two points, there are many amazing options that offer just as much beauty as the St's and the Rastas at a fraction of the cost. Sally helped us get the ball rolling, and later in the process, she helped book our guests' trips to the resort. Having a bonafide travel agent on our side made our dream wedding a reality, and it also alleviated a tremendous burden.<br />
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Once we decided on Riviera Maya, we had to choose the resort to host the festivities. There was no shortage of options. We considered many factors while evaluating resorts, including the wedding packages, restaurant options, price ranges, rules on children, and overall beauty and experience. There was a ton to consider. Even with defined criteria, the resorts all started to sound the same after a while. We used a few different tools to sort through our options, none more helpful than the message boards on <a href="http://www.bestdestinationwedding.com/" target="_blank">bestdestinationwedding.com</a>.<br />
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Two weeks into our search, Mrs. Tires took a break from our seemingly endless search for the perfect resort and went out to sushi with a friend, and a couple at the next table overheard their conversation about the planning plight. The couple had just returned from their honeymoon in Riviera Maya and they highly recommended a brand new resort called <a href="http://www.dreamsresorts.com/riviera-cancun" target="_blank">Dreams Riviera Cancun</a>. It had everything we were looking for, including great wedding packages, lots of food options, attractive ceremony locations, and, perhaps most importantly, a huge pool with a swim-up bar. We excitedly researched DRC the next day, and as soon as we did, we knew we had found the perfect place.<br />
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We chose our date - May 14, 2011 - and informed our guests via a hand-made video Save-the-Date.<br />
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Our year of planning went by quickly, and before we knew it, it was time to fly into Cancun and get things started. With favors, decorations and a wedding dress in tow, we hopped on a plane at O'Hare and landed in Cancun. At the airport, we boarded a van that dropped guests off at various resorts in the area. We realized pretty quickly that our wedding wasn't the only one in town. Of the four parties in the van, three were there for weddings. The mood in the van was therefore quite jovial, and the excitement grew as we conversed.<br />
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When we finally pulled up to Dreams Riviera Cancun, the outside looked more like a fortress than a resort. This made us a bit weary, and we joked it reminded us of a dinosaur paddock from Jurassic Park.<br />
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The hotel staff grabbed our luggage when we disembarked, and when we walked up the stairs and into the main lobby, things brightened considerably. We were greeted by a tented roof held up by huge wooden beams and perched high enough so we were in open air, yet fully covered. A stately assortment of chairs and couches appeared throughout the lobby, and a sprawling, fully-stocked bar was close by. A gentle breeze wafted the swirling scent of ocean and sunscreen. Hotel staff members handed out champagne and offered trays of cookies while we waited to check in.<br />
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After getting our room keys, we were anxious to get things started. However, we'd have to wait a while longer, as we had to go through "orientation" first. I put orientation in quotes. It was actually a sales pitch. We were offered the opportunity to attend a seminar about timeshares in the area in exchange for a $200 spa credit. The staff member pushed us hard to accept the offer. I was rather annoyed. The pitch was mandatory, and it was the only thing holding us back from officially kicking off the wedding and vacation of our dreams.We waited out the pitch, declined more than once, and eventually we were finally released and allowed to enter the rest of the resort.<br />
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When we stepped foot on the main walkway that spanned the grounds, we found beautiful palm trees, the shining sun, the perfect temperature, and a resort humming with charm. All of our stress and anxiety melted away as we strolled. We could tell the resort took great pride in its product. Everything was spotless and sparkling, and maintenance attendants meticulously painted and polished the individual floorboards as we walked by. We knew we had chosen the perfect place, and we couldn't wait to see more.<br />
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Our room wasn't ready immediately, so we took up residence at the Seaside Grill, an outdoor restaurant with a thatched roof that was situated right next to the main pool.<br />
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We started our meal off with margaritas and some fried dumplings, which were basically a tastier version of crab rangoon. We fell in love with the dish, and ordered about 30 more over the course of our stay.<br />
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The Seaside Grill was one of nine restaurants at the resort. Together they covered the entire swarth of styles and food options. Some were casual, such as the buffet-style World Café or the Barefoot Grill, a poolside pizza and burger counter. Others were more buttoned up, such as Bordeux, the french bistro, and Himatsu, the Benihana-style Japanese restaurant. We made our way to every one of them eventually, and they all had their highlights, but Seaside Gill was easily our favorite.<br />
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While waiting for our food, we glanced around and got a thorough view of the main pool. The water was sparkling, the pool revelers jolly, and the loungers toasty from basking in the sun.<br />
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Our room was ready by the time we finished our meals, so we headed up to our honeymoon suite to scope it out and get settled. The room was huge, and featured a king size bed, a couch, and two hot tubs, one inside and one on our private balcony.<br />
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They also left us a bottle of champagne as a greeting to the betrothed-to-be. After unpacking and sending our wedding clothes off to be cleaned and pressed, we changed into our bathing suits and headed back to the main pool. It was finally time to immerse ourselves in the infinity pool and have ourselves a paddle up to the swim-up bar.<br />
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We had built up the swim-up bar in our minds over time, and even with our sky-high expectations, it lived up to the hype. The long, spread out bar made it easy to get to a stool or to the bartender without too much traffic, the bartenders were a hoot, and sipping a tasty blended drink while floating around was a ton of fun. Additionally, we were quite amused by the concept of pulling soaking wet dollar bills out of our pockets and slapping them down on the bar as tips. Eventually the bartender would peel the bills off the counter and wedge them under liquor bottles so they could flap in the breeze to dry.<br />
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We also witnessed the effects of the infinity pool, which, when viewed at the right angle, appeared to seamlessly meld with the ocean beyond it. Both bodies of water were perfectly, delightfully blue.<br />
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We floated for the rest of the afternoon, and before we knew it, it was time to eat again. Our friends Mel and Bill got in just before dinner time, so we joined them for a poolside dinner and a show. We enjoyed the heck out of the ceviche and other delights while we were entertained by lots of singing and dancing. To top it all off (literally and figuratively), we had a great server who kept cracking jokes and convincing us to drink more wine. Not two sips would go by before he swooped in with another pour. The whole affair got us good and tipsy, and we laughed and sang the rest of the night away.<br />
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The next morning we made a point to get in some R&R. We woke up early, and after a quick trip to the World Café for breakfast, we took up residence under one of the canopies that dotted the beach. Each featured a thatched roof which shaded two beach chairs. We brought our books, lounged and read for a good couple of hours. Much to our delight, a troupe of servers regularly paced the beach, eager to serve thirsty guests. Somehow they knew exactly when to show up with a grapefruit juice refill, and whenever I'd thank them, they'd respond with "It's a pleasure, sir." I could listen to that all day.<br />
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Getting lost in a book was a welcome distraction, but the best moment of our time on the beach came when my stunner of a fiancée decided to strut her stuff and pose for photos in the shining sun. This moment is one of those times that's permanently planted in my memory, and whenever I recall it, it brings a glowing smile to my face.<br />
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We had one important piece of business to attend to that day - a meeting with our wedding coordinator to finalize the details of our ceremony and reception. While we made a choice to check out our options for decorations, flowers, cakes and the like in advance, the weddings at DRC are set up so one could show up on the day before the wedding and pick out food, ceremony location, music, etc, right then and there. We had several special requests, and our wedding coordinator assured us each one of them would be met. The whole meeting was conducted in less than an hour, and when it was over, the wedding became very, very real.<br />
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Adding to that sentiment was the fact that our guests were now showing up in full force. It seemed like everywhere we turned, we ran into another relative or close friend. Our excitement grew with every encounter. Each conversation wrapped up with a "where you headed?" The answer was usually either "to grab a bite," "to grab another drink," or "to the pool." This was almost always met with either "Mind if I join you?" or "See you there later!" We spent most of the rest of the day having that same conversation and following through. Eventually our crew took over the entire swim-up bar.<br />
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That evening, we organized a small group of friends to scout out Desires, the resort's night club. When we first arrived at the club, it was dead quiet, other than the sound of squeaking sneakers coming from the basketball games showing on several TVs. More people arrived as the evening went on, but the dead air at Desires was preventing them from dancing. That lasted until our friend Jarrad stepped onto the dance floor. With total disregard for the fact that he was the only one out there, Jarrad started dancing like a best kind of crazed maniac. We all knew he was a good dancer, but as he moved, shook and spun around, we realized he was taking things to another level. Friends and strangers alike cheered as he breakdanced, did the worm, and busted out more moves than many of us knew existed. By the time he was done, the awkwardness in the room had been replaced with dance fever, with the club attendees hitting the floor in full force. The club was jumpin' for hours after that, with everyone still grooving when we left at midnight.<br />
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We had one more item on the agenda that night. Being a Jimmy Buffett fan seeped in paradise, I felt the need to order a couple of burgers with cheese. A quick call to the kitchen was all it took, and a half hour later, we were in the outdoor hot tub with our Cheeseburgers in Paradise. In reality the burgers were ok at best, but in concept, they were incredible.<br />
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After an ambitious final pre-wedding workout on Friday morning, the rest of the day brought more swimming, socializing, eating and drinking. The swim-up bar acted as our main meeting point, and we were all smiles, all day.<br />
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That night, the wedding festivities officially kicked off with the rehearsal dinner. We rented out the El Patio restaurant for the event and had the majority of the restaurant to ourselves. Once dinner was served, Mrs. Tires and I addressed our guests and thanked them for being such important people in our lives, and for crossing over into a different country to witness our wedding. Our parents also spoke, and then we opened up the floor to anyone else who had something to say. Our friends and relatives delivered hilarious and moving speeches. Occasionally they were interrupted by the sound of the blender mixing a margarita, a perfectly acceptable obstacle. The event fostered great vibes, and by the end of the meal, the walls between family and friends were breaking down. The festivities had officially kicked off, and they were going swimmingly.<br />
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At the conclusion of the dinner, our party spilled out into the open-air lobby, where we took many photos and refilled our beverages. E<span style="text-align: center;">ventually someone presented a ridiculous idea that was too spontaneous and mischievous to pass up. Skinny dipping! We were clamoring and giggling as a huge group of us marched across the resort and towards the beach. Upon reaching the sand, we disrobed in short order, and then ran into the water in our birthday suits. We were laughing hysterically and making a ton of noise as we reveled in the hysteria. It was late and we weren't supposed to be swimming at that time, so it didn't take long for the resort to stop us. While they made us get out of the water, they could never take this delightful memory from us, and to this day we have a good laugh about it.</span></div>
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We woke up the next morning astounded and ecstatic that it was May 14. We had been anticipating this day for almost two years, and it was finally here...our wedding day!<br />
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After a hearty breakfast, we met up with our wedding party for a brief but effective wedding rehearsal on the beach. Fortunately, the proceedings were fairly straightforward, and we left feeling confident in our assignments. That left us a few hours before things really got going, so we spent our time at...you guessed it...the swim-up bar.<br />
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Before long, 3:00 rolled around, the time we designated to start getting ready. I kissed my fiancée goodbye for the last time, and she went off for hair and makeup while I gathered my groomsmen. My best friend Jon acted as my best man, and my uncle Steve and my brother Ben stood up on my side as groomsmen. We're all Red Sox fans, so we dawned the matching Red Sox bathing suits I gave them as groomsmen's gifts and we posed for some photos that were taken by our good friend and go-to photographer Adie.<br />
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Meanwhile, Mrs. Tires and her crew were getting dolled up in the honeymoon suite. To calm her nerves, she sent her two brother-in-laws to seek out some champagne. Entire bottles of alcohol aren't included in the all-inclusive package, so they really had to work the bartender to get their hands on a bottle. Finally a deal was brokered. They got the champagne in exchange for a promise that we'd name our first born child Raul, after the generous bartender. Sorry we didn't live up to our end of the bargain, Raul! </div>
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After the photo shoot, my groomsmen and I set up shop in the best man's quarters, where I showered up and changed. I invited all of the guys to join us in the room, and attendance was high. I'm sure we broke some occupancy rules, as there were about fifteen of us on the best man's balcony. We cracked jokes and kept the mood light. </div>
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Once I was fully prepared, I led the guys from the room to the beach where the wedding would be held. Wedding revelers and other hotel guests cheered us on as we marched across the resort. The excitement was really starting to build. </div>
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After touching base with the sound guy and reviewing the song cues, my groomsmen and I staked out a spot down the beach, where we could see the wedding guests gather while we stood out of sight.<br />
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We waited for what seemed like an eternity for the wedding to start. There were a thousand details going through my mind, and I had been waiting for this moment for years, so the anticipation was stretching my perception of time. In reality, we probably waited about ten minutes. Finally the song Swept Away by The Avett Brothers started playing, our cue to march up the beach and take our places near the alter. </div>
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As I stood watching our parents walk down the aisle and take their seats, a mix of giddiness and nerves swelled up inside me. It's a rare and exhilarating feeling to know that one of the most significant moments of your life is just minutes away. That feeling multiplied ten-fold when the opening chords of Led Zeppelin's Over the Hills and Far Away started playing. </div>
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With that, everyone stood up to welcome the bride. I felt suspended in time as the beautiful Mrs. Tires began her descent down the aisle. She looked absolutely stunning in her flowing white dress, and her face beamed with happiness as she walked. The entire collection of wedding guests and I stood in awe of my captivating bride as she approached.</div>
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As she drew closer, I met her in the aisle, hugged her brother Kevin (her escort) and locked arms with her. We were both feeling a bit nervous, so to break through it, I whispered an inside joke in her ear. We both had a good chuckle and sported huge smiles as we took up residence at the altar. This was really happening!</div>
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The ceremony included some nice statements from our Justice of the Peace, Linda, as well as readings by Leanne's best friend Frank and my best man Jon. </div>
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Our own version of a sand ceremony bridged the gap between the readings and our vows. This ceremony is typical of the weddings at DRC, and it normally consists of pouring artificially colored sand into a container. We decided to personalize it by substituting the colored sand with sand from beaches that were significant in our lives, including some from beaches in New Hampshire and California (our home states), the Lake Michigan shoreline in Chicago (our current home), and from the very beach we were standing on. </div>
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At the conclusion of the sand ceremony, we read our vows. I shed many a tear while reading mine. Mrs. Tires delivered hers elegantly and eloquently. </div>
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The ceremony concluded with exchanging rings and saying "I do." It's a tradition as old as marriage itself, but that didn't make it any less impactful or any less true. </div>
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With that, we were officially a married couple. We kissed, and then faced our guests, who greeted us with enthusiastic cheers and thunderous applause. We made our way back up the aisle hand in hand while Shades of Blue's "Oh, How Happy." played in the background. </div>
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As we exited, the staff at Dreams handed everyone a glass of champagne, and my uncle Steve gave a brief but moving toast. </div>
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Next, we headed to the beach for pictures. Our photographer Anel was superb, and she had lots of creative ideas for shots. They came out beautifully. </div>
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With the photo session complete, we made our way to the reception, which was situated between the infinity pool and the beach. As we approached, they announced us, and we boogied into the reception with huge smiles on our faces, love in our hearts, and dance moves pouring out of our bodies. </div>
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We danced our way to the center of the dance floor, which was made up of neon and pastel squares that lit up and resembled Michael Jackson's Billy Jean video. We had our first dance to our song, Baby, I'm Yours by Barbara Lewis. </div>
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At the conclusion of the dance, we were surprised by huge sparklers that shot glowing golden bursts into the air. My newly-minted brother-in-law Kevin was quite surprised as well, as the pyrotechnics met the wind and blew a deluge of sparks into his unsuspecting face. Fortunately no one was hurt, and with everyone safe, we reveled in the moment and had a good laugh. </div>
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From there, we were ushered to the buffet, where we fixed plates full of delicious food, and then took up residence on huge plush red chairs at the sweethearts table. We felt like royalty as we dined and looked out at our guests. As the meal concluded, Jon, Frank, and Mrs. Tires' sisters Carolyn and Louisa treated everyone to hilarious and heart-felt speeches that had everyone rolling. </div>
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At the conclusion of the speeches, we opened up the dance floor. Our friends were practically pushing each other out of the way to get there and dance. There was a jubilant vibe in the air, and that, mixed with a few cocktails, made for a hell of a dance party. It took about two minutes for a conga line to break out. </div>
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When Right Said Fred's I'm Too Sexy came on, an impromptu mock runway formed, and we all took turns strutting our stuff as others looked on and cheered. Eventually a second dance party broke out on the beach about twenty feet away. There were a few slow songs in there as well. I have a vivid memory of swaying with Mrs. Tires to REM's Night Swimming. There was something about the way the heavy notes from the piano bounced off the ocean water that made the moment particularly impactful. It was one of those rare perfect moments in life that will stay with me forever. </div>
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We danced, ate and drank late in the evening, and the staff had to kick us out for us to finally leave. Friends swear to me that it was one of the most epic dance parties they've every been a part of. In my mind, the dance party was an extension of the wedding itself, an exuberant, emotional and memorable event that will stand out as a highlight for the rest of my life. </div>
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The wedding events wrapped up with an informal breakfast at the World Café the next morning, where we chatted with many of our guests and relived the night before. The good vibes carried over to that morning and beyond. </div>
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At the conclusion of breakfast, Mrs. Tires and I realized the wedding festivities were officially over. It felt a bit strange that something we had looked forward to for so long was now behind us, but we had no regrets and were riding a newly-wed high that set a wonderful foundation for our marriage. </div>
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While the wedding was over, we still had lots of time ahead of us in Mexico. The honeymoon was about to get started...</div>
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Coming Soon: Mexico, Part 3: Our Tropical Honeymoon</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-6047008674647470472016-02-07T19:50:00.001-08:002016-02-07T20:51:53.306-08:00Mexico, Part 1: Guadalajara, Zacoalco & Playa Azul<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4OxpXFByKw3m4P_EowJZwWzUPVTyFQE1WcfnVkeWN0OqfyxKiEHwAOaPvRgj2ooYNXrWqi6xspAC_6e78jYgsDu1o3kZR2D68t10A2nvee0EjGK57p-dsUrdZkXkqjECqfT41Mpy8svw/s1600/SDC14674.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4OxpXFByKw3m4P_EowJZwWzUPVTyFQE1WcfnVkeWN0OqfyxKiEHwAOaPvRgj2ooYNXrWqi6xspAC_6e78jYgsDu1o3kZR2D68t10A2nvee0EjGK57p-dsUrdZkXkqjECqfT41Mpy8svw/s640/SDC14674.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I love Mexico. Its culture is vibrant and welcoming, and surprises pop up at every turn. My trips there included my beachfront wedding in Riviera Maya and subsequent honeymoon, and a quick stop at a border town, as told in the <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/07/texas.html">post on Texas</a>. My fondness for this country wouldn't be nearly as strong if it weren't for my first trip there, an authentic, off-the-beaten-path tour that left me wanting more, more, more Mexico.</div>
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Mrs. Tires met her good friend Sara while they were working at a restaurant in downtown Chicago. Sara was a local artist at the time, and also a world traveler. Her travels brought her to Mexico, where she met Luis, her now-husband. Sara and Luis eventually moved to Luis' home town of Zacoalco, which handed us a tremendous opportunity to visit in 2008. The plan was to get the true local experience by hanging around Zacoalco for a few days, then hit the road for some more tropical, vacation-style traveling. </div>
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After making our way through customs and fumbling with my broken Spanish to order a coffee in the airport Starbucks, Luis picked us up in Guadalajara. On our way out of town, a stout, strange-looking man with scraggly hair jumped out in front of the car while we were stopped in traffic and started doing cartwheels. He did two or three rolls, then held his hand out, indicating a few pesos would mean more gymnastics. It was quite amusing, and also a bit of a shock. We kept our pesos in our pockets, and with the hairy gymnast in the rearview, we headed onward to Zacoalco.<br />
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Sara and Mrs. Tires had a wonderful reunion when we arrived. They showed us around their place, which was amazingly colorful, and had a huge back patio with palm trees and a garden. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mrs. Tires fit in quite well with her surroundings. </td></tr>
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After settling in and catching up, we headed out for a brief tour of the town. It was full of old brick buildings with lush green trees, a few churches, and a wonderful domed gazebo in the center of town. The streets were full of people on bicycles, and the old-world feel was broken up by many advertisements for Coca-Cola. </div>
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At the end of the tour, we popped into a restaurant for some dinner. It definitely wasn't the kind of restaurant I was used to, and in fact, it was in an extension of a woman's house. The custom there was that you just show up at her place and she offered you a few different meals options. Then she cooked them in her kitchen and brought them back out to you. No wait staff. No menu. Just her. Apparently a lot of the restaurants in Zacoalco operated that way. Hey, nothing like a home cooked meal!</div>
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We spent the rest of the night catching up over beers on their back patio. Sara told us about her exploits from teaching English at the school in town, and Luis told us about his handful of jobs, including lawyer, real estate agent and farmer. We shared many laughs and chatted late into the night. </div>
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Sara and Luis' pad introduced us to some unexpected Mexican customs. The most shocking of which was that the Mexican plumbing system couldn't handle toilet paper, so one discarded their toilet paper into a waste basket next to the toilet instead of flushing it. Fortunately, stores in Mexico sell scented toilet paper. </div>
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After getting the lay of the land in Zacoalco, we hopped back into the car the next day and headed to Chapala, a beachside town where Luis was conducting some business. The town was popular among retirees from all over North America. I could see the appeal. It was a lovely, peaceful town with a great view of still waters. </div>
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We cruised down the boardwalk and tried to picture ourselves retiring there someday. It wasn't too hard to imagine. </div>
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After our stroll, we took up residence at a seaside bar with a lovely view of the water. The watering hole was quite Americanized, as the juke box featured mostly American music and the menu pushed the margaritas, a drink that's actually not that popular in Mexico. We tried our first Michelada there, a drink made up of a pint of beer, a lime and various spices and served with a rim of salt. The taste was sharp and took some getting used to, but after a few sips, we understood the appeal.</div>
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With Luis' business wrapped up, we jumped back in their Volvo and headed into Guadalajara, where we would hit the town for lunch and some shopping. We ate at a sandwich joint that sold a succulent pork sandwich we ate with a spoon. The sauce from the pork soaked through the bread, making it hard to hold, making the spoon the perfect utensil to devour it. </div>
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Our next stop was an enormous multi-level market called San Juan De Dios, which sold all kinds of goods. The market was surrounded with outdoor merchants selling trinkets from wheeled carts. I picked up a marionette clown souvenir that I treasure to this day. </div>
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When we entered the indoor portion of the market, we were overwhelmed with the enormity of the place. The first floor offered practical things like clothes and groceries. The second floor was full of restaurants and specialty food shops. Floor #3 was where it really got interesting, as it was filled with knock-off designer clothing and pirated DVDs. We ventured into the bootleg DVD area, and Luis chatted up the salesmen to figure out which bootlegs were of the best quality. We scored ten DVDs for $15, including such gems as El Curioso Caso De Benjamin Button and Mi Nombre es Harvey Milk. </div>
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As dusk settled upon Guadalajara, we wandered over to El Convento del Carmen, a public square with lots of outdoor seating. We settled in and ordered drinks and snacks, and as our drinks arrived, music started playing, which caused our heads to swivel towards the center of the square. A pair of dancers in decadent outfits had just started their routine. They moved elegantly to flamingo music, performing many impressive coordinated steps that inspired thunderous applause. Before long we recognized the song they danced to - a flamenco version of Bohemian Rhapsody.</div>
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That night we shared some laughs and recapped the day while we ate at an Egyptian-themed restaurant and bar. It amused me to no end that I was seeing another country's version of yet another country's culture. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKuB7h8_OTqYgvdapFu9zv4GNyaM2Zur5PC0OEKL7qmmlyuIpYBumQddn9PyFqYwX3EFkdDx44tWbFZQ_-jbIgkECXuzCH5vAUA_c5jGXRxATTmteFA23lvitDIf23TQZmer4GCT9K-kb/s1600/SDC14569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKuB7h8_OTqYgvdapFu9zv4GNyaM2Zur5PC0OEKL7qmmlyuIpYBumQddn9PyFqYwX3EFkdDx44tWbFZQ_-jbIgkECXuzCH5vAUA_c5jGXRxATTmteFA23lvitDIf23TQZmer4GCT9K-kb/s640/SDC14569.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look closely, you can see Darth Vader selling Sol beer on the poster in the background. </td></tr>
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We arrived back at Sara and Luis' place fairly late that night, but we were up and at 'em early the next morning. We had to hit up the market in Zacoalco, as we needed supplies for our upcoming road trip. The market was a lot different from the supermarkets I was used to back home. It was amazingly colorful, and it emitted some interesting odors. </div>
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With provisions in hand, we loaded Luis' van with tents and hammocks, then made one more stop on the way out of town. Birrieria El Rancho de Pedro was Luis' favorite restaurant, and he recommended their specialty, the goat soup. We went for it. The goat meat was delicious, and much like the cliche says, it resembled a more flavorful version of chicken. The whole meal was quite tasty, but I must say that some of the pieces floating in the soup were rather unappealing. </div>
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Full of goat, we hightailed it out of town and cruised towards the coast. We were headed to a beach called Playa Azul, where we'd be camping on the beach for a couple of nights. The ride down there was beautiful, and featured lots of interesting plant life. </div>
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Along the way we were halted at a checkpoint where young, armed military men stopped every vehicle for a mandatory inspection. The men were totally calm and methodical during their search, and they clearly had no intention of using the automatic weapons strapped to their backs. Still, it was quite unnerving. </div>
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After a five minute search, we were allowed passage onward. Shortly after, we caught our first glimpse of the beach we'd inhabit. </div>
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Just based on the view, I knew I was going to love Playa Azul. </div>
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Upon arrival, we lugged our things to a thatched hut that was divided into several plots, each with enough room for a tent and a hammock. We got two adjoining plots, which allotted us some extra gathering space.</div>
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With our campsite set up and some daylight still left, I hit the water in short order. The ocean water was the perfect temperature, so I stayed submerged for over an hour. The current was extremely strong, so I started rolling along the beach, letting the waves pull me in and push me back out again as I stay in a pencil position and rolled in the sand. Eventually the others joined me and we floated and splashed around until dusk. </div>
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That night we lounged on the beach, watched the sun set, and lit a small bonfire.</div>
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We awoke the next morning to a comically unfortunate development. Our cooler had been invaded, and the tasty chorizo we were looking forward to had been taken. Based on the condition of half eaten plastic bag left next to the cooler that used to hold our breakfast, we deduced that the wild dogs were the most likely culprits. There were several of these mangy mutts wandering around the beach, and I'm sure we weren't the first victims of these crafty thieves. Dogs weren't the only wild animals mulling about. A pack of unsupervised pigs wandered around as well, as did several chickens. </div>
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There were also a few roosters in the area, though they were usually tethered to buildings, an odd site.<br />
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Things were too laid back and peaceful for us to dwell on the forfeited meat for too long. It was another gorgeous day, and we had nothing planned but swimming, sun bathing and hammock lounging. Still obsessed with the perfectly temperate water, I hit the waves for another swim, this time outfitted with snorkeling gear. </div>
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There wasn’t much of a fish population within view, so I spent over an hour swimming around, spying interesting shells and colorful rocks and diving to retrieve them. I still have the colorful collection I amassed.
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After my swim, I snagged my pillow, hopped into the hammock and settled in for a nap.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: 14px; text-align: start;">I could live in this moment forever</span></td></tr>
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Later in the day we headed out on a field trip, a hike over to the nearest watering hole. When I say it was a hike, I mean it. The bar was perched atop a rocky cliff at the far end of the beach, and the only way to get there was to scale a small mountain. The hike was rockier and more difficult than we had anticipated, but it afforded us some great views, and it made the Coronas we sipped at the end of our hike that much tastier. </div>
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We were having so much fun that day, it was hard to believe it was almost over by the time dinner rolled around. We all pitched in to make an evening feast, and I made my first and only batch of pico de gallo. Dusk arrived while we cooked, so we made sure to take a break from the food prep to enjoy one last sunset.</div>
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The brilliant show by the sun was the perfect backdrop for a photo that is one of my favorite shots of all time. The expressions on our faces perfectly captured the mood of the day, and I love the fact that it came out faded, as if capturing not only the moment, but my memory of the moment.</div>
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We enjoyed the heck out of our feast, and then busted out the dominos and the tequila and Squirt for another evening under the thatched roof. </div>
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It was tough to leave the next morning. Playa Azul left quite an impression on us, and the perfect weather persisted.</div>
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Fortunately we had another fun destination in mind that helped take the sting out of our departure. We were headed to Manzanillo, where we would spend two days and a night at the <a href="http://www.vistahoteles.com/vista-manzanillo/idioma_en" target="_blank">Vista Playa de Oro</a> all-inclusive resort. It was to be our first experience at an all-inclusive, though certainly not our last.<br />
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When we arrived at the resort, we had mixed emotions. While the grounds were beautiful, the resort had received an unexpected facelift since Luis had visited there the last time, and had been transformed into a kid-centric, pirate-themed resort. While it’s hard to hate anything pirate-themed, the renovations took away some of the elements we were looking forward to most. The biggest offense was the removal of the swim-up bar and its conversion to a kids pool.</div>
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After we checked in, we wandered around the grounds for a bit and got the lay of the land. You can see our varying levels of enthusiasm in the photo below.</div>
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While the resort wasn’t the tropical paradise we had envisioned, our attitudes changed once we hit the pool.</div>
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In addition to the perfectly temperature-moderated water, the pool area offered a huge selection of tasty adult beverages.</div>
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With the drinks being part of the all-inclusive package, I decided I’d start at the top of the drink list and make my way through until I could drink no more. As we started in on our second round, a whistle blew and some staff members started unfurling a huge net over the pool. It was time for pool volleyball, and we were nudged by the staff to participate. We were hesitant at first, but we gave in, and we were glad we did. The game was a blast, and the staff was a riot. They joked around with players as they kept score, and a botched play resulted in a hefty helping of an unidentified alcoholic red liquid, straight from the ref’s squirt bottle into the mouth the offender.
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We stayed in the pool until nightfall, pausing our steady stream of drinks a few times for some photos, including this one, another one of my all-time favorites.
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We were a bit concerned about how we were going to get our tipsy troupe from the pool to dinner, but fortunately the resort provided transportation via large golf carts. We accepted a ride to the main outdoor dining area, where we were treated to dinner and a show. Little did we know we’d be part of the entertainment!</div>
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After a few song and dance numbers by the staff, the entertainment turned into one of those Mexican game shows you might accidentally stumble upon when you channel-surf to Spanish television. One of the games was a couples competition, and Mrs. Tires and I were chosen to participate. The game involved using our bodies in various ways to pop balloons. According to the pre-game audience poll, we were the favorites. Unfortunately, we didn’t live up to expectations, as we failed to pop the balloon that we were squishing between Mrs. Tires’ butt and my chest.
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Luis also found himself up on stage when he somehow became part of the dance crew.
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All the while, the drinks kept flowing. It was hard to believe we were still standing after dinner, but we managed to get ourselves back to the pool area, where we enjoyed one last round of cocktails and were entertained by the poolside magician. </div>
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Mexico served up beautiful weather for the final day of our road trip, and we soaked it in while having breakfast by the pool. We finished our stay with one last dip and a couple more drinks. I made it close to the end of the drink list, but didn’t quite get there. Next time! Mrs. Tires and Sara got friendly with one of the staff members (who, by the way, were rock stars).</div>
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Vista Playa de Oro wasn’t quite the tropical paradise we were hoping for, which was an inspiration for the destination wedding we would host three years later. However, it was a heck of a lot of fun and it provided some long-lasting memories.
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With our excursions now over, we made the long and slightly hungover drive back to Zacoalco. We took it easy that night and watched the pirated version of Zach y Miri Hacen Porno we purchased earlier in the week.
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We still had a day and a half in Mexico, so we spent the next day kickin’ it around Zacoalco. Luis’ family owned a farm, so we spent the majority of our day there, where we got a tour of the fields and met several of the farmhands.
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Mrs. Tires and Sara went for a cruise on the family scooter. </div>
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Later we attempted to go horseback riding. Unfortunately the horses didn’t seem like they were in the mood. Mrs. Tires went first and got a pretty good ride.
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I went second and did my best lonesome cowboy impression. The horse was certainly slowing down towards the end of my ride.
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We should have taken the horse's cues more seriously. Instead, Sara hopped on for a ride, and at that point, the horse had had enough. As Sara mounted the horse, he bucked, knocking Sara backwards, and then he kicked her to the ground with his hind legs. It was a scary moment that was over in a split second, and resulted in Sara lying on the ground, pained and shocked. Fortunately she wasn’t seriously hurt and was able to get herself up off the ground. It took a while for all of us to get over the shock, and she was sore for several days. <br />
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Once Sara had some time to recover, we headed out on the most bad ass cooking endeavor I’ve ever been a part of. We encountered the cactus shown below and Luis cut off a couple of choice pieces with a machete.
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We took the cactus back to their place and started the painful process of removing all of the thorns. Luis offered to do this himself, but I was feeling brave (and stubborn) and insisted that I help. We carefully removed each thorn with a knife. The large thorns were easy to extract, but the cactus was also covered in many tiny thorns, maybe a tenth of an inch long each. We spent an hour shaving the cactus, and then I went to work removing tiny thorns from my fingers while Luis fried up the cactus for us to eat. The resulting snack was delicious, and the flavor was enhanced by the toughness involved in preparing the meal. </div>
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The cactus held us over while we drove into Guadalajara for the last time. Thorn extraction kept me busy in the back seat on the way. We had one last stop before we took off for home. I was tickled by the idea of experiencing a foreign culture’s take on another foreign culture when we went to the Egyptian-themed bar earlier in the trip, and at my request, we followed that up with a meal at a german-themed restaurant in Guadalajara. I am sorry to report that I can’t remember the name of the restaurant, and truthfully the food there was passable at best, but it was still fun to see Mexico’s take on German cuisine.
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With our bellies full of sausage, we headed to the airport. After saying goodbye to our wonderful hosts, we stopped at the airport Starbucks, and I ordered using much more confident Spanish, as it had been enhanced by my week in Mexico. With frappuccinos in hand, we boarded the plane said adios to Mexico.<br />
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Coming soon: Mexico, Part 2: Our Tropical Wedding on Riviera Maya </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-66513525451942114282015-10-04T13:56:00.000-07:002015-10-04T13:56:24.634-07:00The End of the Journey, and the Next Trek<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">Over the last nine months, this blog has been a vehicle to tell stories from my travels around the United States. I had a blast sharing these experiences, as I thoroughly enjoyed </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">reliving the memories, </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">sorting through old photos, and writing the narratives of each trip. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">The publication of the posts on Washington mark the end of phase one of this blog.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">While the first phase is in the rearview, fastfoodandworntires.com will live on in a few ways. </span><br />
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First of all, I plan on updating this blog as I continue to travel around America. This may take some time to come to fruition, as Mrs. Tires and I recently added a new travel companion named Jacoby to our family. His birth will take us off the road for a while, but once he is ready for the highway, there will many adventures ahead for our clan. I still need to visit North Dakota, Alabama, Alaska and Hawaii to complete my collection of all fifty states, and there are so many destinations to hit for the first time or revisit and share with Jacoby.
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In the meantime, I plan on adding some posts about my international experiences. I purposely focused on travel within the US during phase one, but I had way too much fun to stop there. My trips abroad produced many stories, so stay tuned.
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Phase one was a hell of a journey. Thanks to all who came along for the ride. Looking forward to hitting the road again soon.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-67260645291834320502015-09-12T23:28:00.000-07:002015-09-13T20:55:17.252-07:00Washington, Part 2: Seattle<div class="p1">
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Seattle and I have made acquaintances several times over the years. My comedy group Dirty Water was a regular at the Seattle Festival of Improv Theater (SFIT), which afforded me several opportunities to check out the city. More recently, Mrs. Tires and I gave Seattle a thorough exploration at the end of our epic road trip in September of 2014 that also took us to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/wyoming-part-1-devils-tower-to.html" target="_blank">Yellowstone</a> and <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/02/montana-part-1-yellowstone-to-glacier.html" target="_blank">Glacier National Park</a>.<br />
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During that 2014 road trip, we arrived in Seattle after a day that started in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/06/iowa-2.html" target="_blank">Coeur d'Alene, Iowa</a> and included a stop in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/washington-part-1-snoqualmie-and-spokane.html" target="_blank">Spokane</a>. The rainy, traffic-y drive into the city after eleven days on the road left us quite tired, so we planned to chill at our hotel and do some much-needed laundry after we checked in. However, Mrs. Tires called an audible once she realized our rainy Monday night arrival afforded us the perfect opportunity to score a table at <a href="http://shiros.com/" target="_blank">Shiro's</a>, a fancy sushi restaurant. Shiro's sushi list is notoriously inventive, and its head chef is a disciple of Jiro Ono, the chef profiled in the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, so it usually requires reservations months in advance. Mrs. Tires convinced me to forego the laundry, and off we went into the Seattle evening.<br />
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After a harrowing drive in the rain, multiple GPS (not driver) errors, and an iffy parking situation, we got to Shiro's, and sure enough, we got a table. We ordered the chef's special, which included many types of sushi, sashimi, rolls and other assorted delights. The fish was exquisite, and our server was abundantly knowledgable and kind. We stretched our palate and tried new and exotic dishes such as prawn heads and uni. We were glad we did. The whole experience was wonderful, and I highly recommend a visit. </div>
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On our way back to the car, a bar called <a href="http://www.shortydog.com/" target="_blank">Shorty's</a> caught my eye. As mentioned in my post on <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-1-dells-and-door.html" target="_blank">Door County, Wisconsin</a>, I love creepy clowns. That same love pulled me into Shorty's, as the bar was decorated with wall-to-wall clown art. We ignored our fatigue and popped in for a drink. </div>
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After admiring the extensive collection of creepy clowns, we wandered into the back of the bar, which featured wall-to-wall pinball machines. We're both terrible at pinball, but we had fun playing their diverse collection of black-lit machines nonetheless.<br />
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After the clown bar, we called it a night and retired to our suite. Mrs. Tires did a bang-up job choosing the hotel, scoring a room at the <a href="http://hamptoninn3.hilton.com/en/hotels/washington/hampton-inn-and-suites-seattle-downtown-SEADTHX/index.html" target="_blank">Hampton Inn and Suites in downtown Seattle</a>. The location couldn't be beat, and what's more, we cashed in our Hilton Rewards points for the room, so in addition to the free stay, we got a complimentary upgrade to a one-bedroom suite with a full kitchen, a fireplace and a private balcony. Our big-time score on the suite further solidified my love of the Hilton Honors program, as I mentioned in my post on <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/tennessee-part-2-nashville-memphis.html" target="_blank">Tennessee</a>. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warming our feet by the fire after a long day on the road. </td></tr>
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<span class="s1">The next morning we washed our clothes (finally) and returned our rental car, and then walked to <a href="http://www.pikeplacemarket.org/" target="_blank">Pike's Place Market</a>, a famous food, fish and produce market by the waterfront.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">We wandered around the market for a while, sampling various foods and exploring the shops, all of which were hawking various forms of local flavor. We were quite amused by the famous fish stand that made a show out of throwing the fish around behind the counter, and occasionally in the direction of the onlookers. We also got a laugh out of the monk fish, a scary looking ocean creature that's totally fake and is used to freak out unsuspecting tourists. </span></div>
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Pike's Place Market is a decent stop, but it's not all that impressive. It reminded me of Faneuil Hall, a crowded, overrated outdoor market in Boston. I've been to Faneuil Hall a hundred times and I still don't understand the appeal. Pike's Place makes for a decent stroll, but it can be skipped. </div>
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Around the corner from Pike's Place sits the most disgusting tourist attraction I've ever witnessed: The Gum Wall. It's covered in ABC gum that plasters not just a wall, but an entire alley. The concept is gross, and the smell of melting globs of sugar on a hot day makes it even more nauseating. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOXOg7a1U-re2_dsDY1tThBmGzvnbC83X1SpuqWNkgWG8-R4sY9-9Nv1RhH-5zKy75r1W2gdznR-QWy_raUjkRnZaTjsbg8sEnLJrLlXUe-Le191Au-QF9W8mersU9SoxqeomLBm0/s1600/IMG_4189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOXOg7a1U-re2_dsDY1tThBmGzvnbC83X1SpuqWNkgWG8-R4sY9-9Nv1RhH-5zKy75r1W2gdznR-QWy_raUjkRnZaTjsbg8sEnLJrLlXUe-Le191Au-QF9W8mersU9SoxqeomLBm0/s1600/IMG_4189.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I make a contribution to the world's sickest tourist attraction. </td></tr>
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One of the surfaces of the Gum Wall belongs to the Market Theater, an improv theater that hosts some of SFIT's shows. It's a great space, and I have several fond memories of performing there. There's a sign on the box office window that kindly asks people not to put gum on it. Many have ignored the request.<br />
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From the Gum Wall, Mrs. Tires and I wandered on to the waterfront, which featureed a novelty museum and gift shop called Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe (a blast to visit), Ivar's Fish (delicious oysters), the Seattle Aquarium (I have never visited, but I hear it's spectacular) and the Seattle Great Wheel.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrUgP250cxvJKFPVwNckwSQQqitu5o2JUsQmS3SE4Btma-Xnuh7E3jw2XAfD9DW3z-pYiiuIyWE1AsciyUtjbV48ZOm8kTx7H0f0IlJ7zBd_N11K5VwU6NB_-sEg5n7LhktFJx5Q_/s1600/IMG_6092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrUgP250cxvJKFPVwNckwSQQqitu5o2JUsQmS3SE4Btma-Xnuh7E3jw2XAfD9DW3z-pYiiuIyWE1AsciyUtjbV48ZOm8kTx7H0f0IlJ7zBd_N11K5VwU6NB_-sEg5n7LhktFJx5Q_/s1600/IMG_6092.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bonafide curiosity </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oysters at Ivar's</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding the Great Wheel</td></tr>
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The Seattle Great Wheel is a ferris wheel that provides some nice views of the city. It's a fun stop, but not worth the $15 per person fee. Mrs. Tires and I would've skipped it if not for the Fun Fund.<br />
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TRAVEL TIP: Start a fun fund. We populate our fun fund with serendipitous money we encounter, such as loose change, poker winnings, found money, fantasy sports winnings and the like. We save it for the road, and when we use it, we do so with one rule: it must be spent on fun. This can include ferris wheels, skeeball, fortune telling machines, and other items that are good for a laugh but might otherwise give someone pause before forking over the cash. <br />
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From the Great Wheel, we walked to Safeco Field, home of the Seattle Mariners. My visit to this ballpark with Mrs. Tires was my second, but my first time witnessing an actual game. My first trip to Safeco was during baseball's offseason and involved a tour of the stadium with Dirty Water. The all-access tour brought us to the press room, the owner's box, the visitor's locker room and even onto the field. It was a unique and enjoyable tour that gave really cool insights into parts of the stadium seldom seen by fans.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cast of Dirty Water conducting our press conference</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The visitor's locker room. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hit the showers, boys. </td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfq2pxBfnNuY-ueTOkJODbtrMBlbw1POVB-OQWheCUJsjoyQ9e-oxBlfkVS76SY_pkQZiSLEj4rRJvmeAcM5JPXq91T6cPk2UcRWxrSk-RQg_HDIJ7OImFQN-Y11T1aYxKfl1V-8V7/s1600/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfq2pxBfnNuY-ueTOkJODbtrMBlbw1POVB-OQWheCUJsjoyQ9e-oxBlfkVS76SY_pkQZiSLEj4rRJvmeAcM5JPXq91T6cPk2UcRWxrSk-RQg_HDIJ7OImFQN-Y11T1aYxKfl1V-8V7/s640/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+150.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The view from the field</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeNRk2Xt-FVOOaI9vuYWjtSdpP-tMLyxSjZxu1HV_fbHSYapdlY8yY7sc_uNL8uLl_XwV4-AXx9MKnQgXYjD-0JDbkEnYTK3vqQQRBdbiWevvUcFJ1wI48nCbflKeaLmpHRUqhLDH/s1600/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeNRk2Xt-FVOOaI9vuYWjtSdpP-tMLyxSjZxu1HV_fbHSYapdlY8yY7sc_uNL8uLl_XwV4-AXx9MKnQgXYjD-0JDbkEnYTK3vqQQRBdbiWevvUcFJ1wI48nCbflKeaLmpHRUqhLDH/s640/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+162.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I am a ballpark nut, so I was eager to visit a second time and get the true fan experience. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpaWZpDw2iWHgDX3ART94W_7eItHN49swq4SgD4AMtm8x6OHyxkmFRbhUvhjT2hOo9tYLEG2oFTS7RcLQU5Nk4Hdy-7ewfwPSUSajFJyzCVqgSisbB2nwKwJnF-v0JXyBZxyBVIdJH/s1600/IMG_4225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpaWZpDw2iWHgDX3ART94W_7eItHN49swq4SgD4AMtm8x6OHyxkmFRbhUvhjT2hOo9tYLEG2oFTS7RcLQU5Nk4Hdy-7ewfwPSUSajFJyzCVqgSisbB2nwKwJnF-v0JXyBZxyBVIdJH/s640/IMG_4225.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my favorite stadium chasing vantage point</td></tr>
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My favorite feature of the stadium was the unobstructed access to the home and visitor bullpens. Anyone with a ticket can hike down the stairs behind the bleachers and get up-close and personal with the relievers. Many stadiums offer some sort of view of the bullpen, but Safeco's provides the closest and most open view I've encountered. One can simply lean up against the railing and be just a few feet away from the players.<br />
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On the night I was there, the visiting Astros' players were plenty chatty with the fans, even sharing some jokes and tossing out some souvenir baseballs on. I got a wave from Sam Deduno, an obscure pitcher who finally responded to my calls to him after a few attempts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg856ov9r83tnURAqCzjd0mKbkkqD0HIPv0lU1GxNZvErzFzD6nZ6vv6ZxH7XTA2mH_OCauQA1ENk_Cja55wOkwjrmMFBv-3SLK1L5vYYjSAtP803XUgNy1zMaZXJhBPYmPfFQO6eEJ/s1600/IMG_4234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg856ov9r83tnURAqCzjd0mKbkkqD0HIPv0lU1GxNZvErzFzD6nZ6vv6ZxH7XTA2mH_OCauQA1ENk_Cja55wOkwjrmMFBv-3SLK1L5vYYjSAtP803XUgNy1zMaZXJhBPYmPfFQO6eEJ/s1600/IMG_4234.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view into the visitor's bullpen</td></tr>
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Moments after Deduno made my night, Mrs. Tires and I wandered over to the outfield seats for a fresh view. Two minutes later, a screaming home run off the bat of Logan Morrison ricocheted off the scoreboard behind us and landed one section to our right. I gave chase and came close to the ball before it was scooped up by another fan. The lucky lady who got the ball was rather attractive, prompting an extra look on the super slo-mo replay. We watched it at the hotel later, and sure enough you can see my smiling face in the corner of the screen as I returned to my seat, souvenir-less but happy for the experience.<br />
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The food at Safeco was another highlight of the park. There were almost too many options, ranging from traditional fare to stuff prepared by some of Seattle's most famous chefs. I had the legendary beef torta from Edgar's Grill (named after Mariners legend Edgar Martinez). It was spicy and delicious.<br />
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Safeco also offers a robust sushi bar, which includes the revived Ichiroll (named after Ichiro Suzuki, now a Marlin). It's famous fare among stadium lovers, so I had to try it. It tasted like grocery store sushi.<br />
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Mrs. Tires and I ate our rolls while sitting at a table that was smack dab in the middle of the Mariners Hall of Fame, a free exhibit within the stadium that includes lots of Mariners memorabilia and a few areas set up for trick photography.<br />
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Safeco is known as the most artistic ballpark in baseball. It houses several baseball-themed art installations that add to its overall character. Here are two of my favorite pieces:<br />
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Overall I agree with the general feeling of Safeco shared by stadium chasers - it delivers a top-notch stadium experience, even if it lacks any major famous feature. I would definitely go back.<br />
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Our exploration the next day happened within the Seattle Center, a densely populated tourist area that houses the EMP museum and the Space Needle, among other destinations.<br />
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The <a href="http://www.empmuseum.org/" target="_blank">EMP Museum</a> is a pop culture museum featuring interactive exhibits galore. It's one of the coolest places I've ever been to. I first checked it out during one of the trips with Dirty Water. Back then it was known as the Experience Music Project. I specifically remember spending over an hour with Dirty Water in the section of the museum that provided tutorials on how to play various musical instruments. That day I learned to play Louie, Louie (Washington's state song) on the guitar, and I also tried out the drums, the mixing board and the turn tables.<br />
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When Mrs. Tires and I were in Seattle in 2014, the EMP Museum was high on my list of places to visit again. By then it had merged with the Science Fiction Hall of Fame and had rebranded as the EMP, a pop culture museum. We arrived early with the hope of covering the whole museum. After purchasing our tickets, we remembered the fact that we were on vacation and decided to grab a bloody mary at the bar on the first floor. We had to kill fifteen minutes before we could order an adult beverage, so we took some photos in the museum's funky interior while we waited.<br />
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At the stroke of 11:00, a tiny tattooed bartender with the pixie haircut took our order. As it turned out, she was a bloody mary connoisseur, for better or worse. She went to work tamping, grinding, mixing, whipping up her own horse radish, growing her own celery and making her own mason jars. Forty-five minutes later, we had our bloody marys. They were delicious, and almost worth the wait. Almost. As tasty as they were, we were anxious to get into the museum, so we gulped them down and went on our way.<br />
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Being horror film buffs, we headed to the horror exhibit first. This exhibit was decked out with creepy, genre-appropriate horror film decor, and featured mood music visitors could enhance by hitting buttons that elicited screams, shrieks and other ambient sound effects. Many classic horror film props were on display, including Jason's hockey mask and Jack Torrence's axe from The Shining.<br />
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While those elements alone would be enough to satisfy any horror fan, the highlight was an interactive shadow wall that projected our shadows and superimposed extensions on them - wild hair, animal parts and other amusing and surprising shapes. It's difficult to describe and even more difficult to pull yourself away from.<br />
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The exhibit also featured a scream booth which snapped photos of people delivering their best screams. Once we entered the soundproof booth, we were encouraged to deliver either our best "ready to attack" scream or our best "frightened as all get out" scream.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFm6yZasUu25FV7Br4VgrPMBhKct9szzhVXB7m10tW7QRWIeltHnhv1ZwHbGHnQ1Bzw0cUganlq-CUHQTemm9eD8SVQua7MhkdX4zRl-6XP3njsojIsRX31iMZxmOShN1fZkjBmmc/s1600/IMG_4290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFm6yZasUu25FV7Br4VgrPMBhKct9szzhVXB7m10tW7QRWIeltHnhv1ZwHbGHnQ1Bzw0cUganlq-CUHQTemm9eD8SVQua7MhkdX4zRl-6XP3njsojIsRX31iMZxmOShN1fZkjBmmc/s1600/IMG_4290.jpg" width="351" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">My attack face</td></tr>
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From there, we wandered on to the fantasy exhibit. This section's highlights included the original Cowardly Lion costume and a couple of interactive kiosks, one of which allowed us to create a map of our own fantasy land and another that superimposed our heads on fantasy archetypes.<br />
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Next we shuffled off to the Sci Fi exhibit. That wing was a bit more traditional so it wasn't as noteworthy, though it did allow us to play with some Star Trek special effects.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-Sis79H-U1j9jwESbqnZ9ODBrdJzvrLMMbIaPSWS5cve4jwkPNFYqAq41sK4zj3lrma3XRW8TTH384bTcRbcKs1wx9HsJyAKbjoXrpFHAzHD693fXEHNxRpgy6GHqBT2NIVqClpdU8yw/s1600/IMG_4279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx-Sis79H-U1j9jwESbqnZ9ODBrdJzvrLMMbIaPSWS5cve4jwkPNFYqAq41sK4zj3lrma3XRW8TTH384bTcRbcKs1wx9HsJyAKbjoXrpFHAzHD693fXEHNxRpgy6GHqBT2NIVqClpdU8yw/s640/IMG_4279.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After the Sci Fi exhibit, we looked at our watches and realized we had spent almost three hours in those three exhibits alone. We took a break to get some delicious burgers at the bar on the first floor, and then headed over to the music-oriented exhibits.<br />
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An elaborate permanent exhibit on Nirvana exposed some rare artifacts from the band's history and showed Nirvana's story in a new light.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Concept art for Nevermind. Writing in upper left says "If anyone has a problem with his dick, we can remove it"</td></tr>
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We spend a considerable amount of time in the aforementioned interactive exhibit that featured tutorials on various instruments. Mrs. Tires rocked the drums and the synthesizer while I boned up on my Louie, Louie.<br />
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With time winding down and the museum about to close, we went upstairs to the exhibit on music videos, which, among other things, allowed us to walk into the A Ha's Take on Me video.<br />
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Before we knew it, it was closing time. That marked my second time visiting the museum and my second time missing a significant portion of it. I will definitely go a third time. The EMP is simply one of the coolest museums in existence.<br />
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We had some time to kill between the museum closing and our dinner reservation, so we wandered around the Seattle Center, hanging out by the International Fountain for a while and then sneaking peaks at the other museums. From what we saw, the Chihuly Glass Museum and the Pacific Science Center looked promising. They're surefire additions to the "next time" list.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWH2xN68gIPwef4dqbnGtZx-CVb5NUfi0CVV4aRdoSCWm-2AS0cL7HWdXJo28_Yf8gpZ8vXRxOANfXGVbJ9jgPNcUtJWqrZFYBVLGqelFmcgEmBP4ILru_ESANfw_i-DoRNj7s4Ys/s1600/IMG_4297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWH2xN68gIPwef4dqbnGtZx-CVb5NUfi0CVV4aRdoSCWm-2AS0cL7HWdXJo28_Yf8gpZ8vXRxOANfXGVbJ9jgPNcUtJWqrZFYBVLGqelFmcgEmBP4ILru_ESANfw_i-DoRNj7s4Ys/s1600/IMG_4297.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The public tease of the Chihuly Glass Museum</td></tr>
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Finally it was time for dinner. That was a good thing because #1: I was about to cross a major item off my lifetime bucket list, and #2: I was starving.<br />
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I had always wanted to have dinner at the top of the <a href="http://www.spaceneedle.com/home/" target="_blank">Space Needle</a>. Several locals warned against it, saying it was overrated and wouldn't be worth the price. I'm glad I didn't listen to them. The whole experience was marvelous.<br />
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<span class="s1">The Space Needle restaurant is a revolving restaurant that is officially called "SkyCity." The reception area and kitchen in the center of the restaurant don't revolve, but all of the tables on the outer rim are on a giant track that slowly revolves the diners around the structure. The movement seemed very natural and pleasant, except for the few times when the track would jerk a bit, making us feel dizzy for a moment. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">The ever-changing views outside the windows were incredible. Sometimes we were looking out at the Seattle architecture, other times we had views of Mt. Rainier and other distant mountains, and still other times we were looking over the water to Bainbridge Island and other parts of the state. </span>We timed our dinner so the sun was starting to set just as we were seated. The pink hue of Seattle's setting sun cast some extra wonder onto the view.<br />
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<b>The ever-changing view from our table:</b></div>
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<span class="s1">The service at SkyCity was fantastic. Clearly we weren't big spenders (we split an entree) but our waiter treated us like we were important guests anyway. He was kind and accommodating, and he somehow knew how to show up exactly when we needed him and not more. We ordered the tuna on his recommendation, and it was some of the best fish we had ever tasted. We also had fancy cocktails, which were delicious. </span><br />
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The meal included a trip to the observation deck at the top of the needle. Unfortunately one must take advantage of this <i>after</i> dinner, so it was dark by the time we got up there. I can't help but wonder if we may have missed out by going up there so late. The skyline was lit up and beautiful, but maybe a bit less spectacular that it would have been by day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the observation deck</td></tr>
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However, I had an ulterior motive for visiting the observation deck. I was looking forward to trying out the Space Needle's app, which, when activated near certain hot spots on the deck, virtually superimposed images of re-imagined space needles or delivered virtual views through the floor to the street below. This added a really neat element to our visit to the top.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The virtual view through the floor to the street below</td></tr>
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The Space Needle was one of our favorite stops on the trip. Top notch food and great service would be enough to make a great night out, but add in a gorgeous and always changing view, the novelty of rotating ever-so-subtly while dining, and some trippy technology at a landmark recognized around the world, and you've got the makings of a truly spectacular experience that makes memories to keep for a lifetime.<br />
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TRAVEL TIP: Dinner at the Space Needle requires some serious pre-planning. Reservations are available 90 days in advance and fill up within a day. If you want to go (which you do), mark your calendars early. </div>
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The next day Mrs. Tires and I took an Uber X over to the U District, where we rented bikes for a ride down the Burke-Gilman Trail. I was familiar with the U District because it's home to the Historic University Theater, the other theater that hosted SFIT shows. It's a wonderful venue. We were so enamored with it after our first visit that we "purchased" a seat in the theater. A donation to the theater gave us a plaque on one of the seats that reads "Dirty Water, Chicago IL." It's a great seat with a nice view. I caught a couple of shows from the seat during subsequent visits. But I digress.<br />
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After acquiring our bicycles, we headed west towards Gasworks Park. This park used to be a gasification factory, and some of the equipment still stands while the rest has been converted into green space. When we got there, we locked up our bikes...only mine wouldn't lock properly. It sort of half-locked but wouldn't attach all the way. I pushed, pulled, tugged, adjusted the code and tried everything else I could think of. Nothing worked. I had to call the bike rental company to request their assistance.<br />
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While we waited, I remembered the time Dirty Water visited the park years earlier. During that visit, a winding trail to the top of a hill called my name and told me I had to explore it. We also posed with the equipment and the structures throughout the park and joked that the resulting photos would be an album cover someday. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyP4a_0bomSFB1X5SZjKUYq6VNp1jJt89MnZ44_qYnv3VUlsn6GbgUrp4Cgds6_u66JbKk1-gKQXkTFD6q6EUvCUu5pbpJ6KL61LMfVnraKN_W6-8Q-IUvqGrCBJxipCrYxDa8XPcm/s1600/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyP4a_0bomSFB1X5SZjKUYq6VNp1jJt89MnZ44_qYnv3VUlsn6GbgUrp4Cgds6_u66JbKk1-gKQXkTFD6q6EUvCUu5pbpJ6KL61LMfVnraKN_W6-8Q-IUvqGrCBJxipCrYxDa8XPcm/s640/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking towards the hill that called to me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm-5e9pcT9Yk_YmfEffdUxA-eDWviVK9mEL6HUByDjjK8FFzyH9QVAcMqjgmy-vbHNCJTTB2TB8IvLpKue_IaWejdgSkJ925QEMJD7SJDV_Eu4ue1o6jtpk05K-7JZFBwXRDnqVR8/s1600/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpm-5e9pcT9Yk_YmfEffdUxA-eDWviVK9mEL6HUByDjjK8FFzyH9QVAcMqjgmy-vbHNCJTTB2TB8IvLpKue_IaWejdgSkJ925QEMJD7SJDV_Eu4ue1o6jtpk05K-7JZFBwXRDnqVR8/s640/Seattle+Improv+Festival+Feb+08+076.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dirty Water's album cover</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcu6ByPYM7VVWa0_UQthy0aELD2v5H5TzqN8cNJcGDjAdWEid-1dyxjLzjjepYlfyDZeFtevOdbownjnYpI9oxMFZqFwMgH-g8PDBASVfHBODkm45thOx4_tmbK3tJBBOzLt6b0w2RsKj/s1600/soloalbum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUcu6ByPYM7VVWa0_UQthy0aELD2v5H5TzqN8cNJcGDjAdWEid-1dyxjLzjjepYlfyDZeFtevOdbownjnYpI9oxMFZqFwMgH-g8PDBASVfHBODkm45thOx4_tmbK3tJBBOzLt6b0w2RsKj/s640/soloalbum.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Solo album cover from the return trip</td></tr>
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As Mrs. Tires and I wandered the park, I remembered why I had a mixed impression of it. The park attracts many homeless people, which greatly detracts from the experience. Though I am not insensitive to the plight of the homeless, I don't care to interact with them, and these homeless people are of a particular brand of crazy - the kind that makes visitors uncomfortable. The classic homeless stench is wholly abundant. Also, the park features many loft-style open areas which would be great to hang out at, but they're taken up by large collections of odiferous undesirables.<br />
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Eventually the guy from the bike rental company caught up with us and snipped the broken lock. With that, we were on our way to our next destination, the Fremont neighborhood.<br />
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Fremont is often referred to as Funky Fremont, and for good reason. It displays an abundance of quirk, from its troll under the bridge and its frolicking clowns to its giant statue of Stalin.<br />
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After taking in Fremont's character and chowing down on a tasty burger from <a href="http://www.uneedaburger.com/" target="_blank">Uneeda Burger</a>, we cycled on to the final destination on our bike ride, the Alice in Wonderland-inspired oyster bar <a href="http://www.thewalrusbar.com/" target="_blank">The Walrus and the Carpenter</a>. It was a bit off the beaten path (literally), but worth the journey. We slurped a delicious assortment of oysters, and the small twinge of disappointment we felt over the fact that the Alice in Wonderland tie-in was minimal was quickly washed away by the outstanding cocktails they served.<br />
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Full of oysters and with another Seattle adventure in the books, we got on our bikes, got back on the Burke-Gilman Trail, and pedaled all the way back to the U District. The whole trail was wonderful, as it connected many great Seattle neighborhoods, was well-maintained, and only got crowded during the evening rush.<br />
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I truly enjoy Seattle, and the more I visit, the more I want to go back. There's still a ton more to see, even after visiting four times. Additionally, most of the things I have visited, I want to check out again. I highly recommend a trip to Seattle. It's a truly fantastic city, one of my favorite in the country.<br />
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<span class="s1">Must-See in Washington:</span></div>
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<li>Space Needle (Seattle) </li>
<li>EMP Museum (Seattle)</li>
<li>Manito Gardens (Spokane) </li>
<li>Safeco Field (Seattle) </li>
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<span class="s1">Check it Out: </span></div>
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<li>Snoqualmie Falls (Snoqualmie)</li>
<li>Fremont (Seattle) </li>
<li>Burke-Gilman Trail (Seattle)</li>
<li>The Waterfront near the Seattle Great Wheel (Seattle) </li>
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<span class="s1">Skip it: </span></div>
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<li>Gas Works Park (Seattle) </li>
<li>Pike's Place Market (Seattle) </li>
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<span class="s1">The "Next time" list: </span></div>
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<li>Chihuly Glass Museum</li>
<li>Pacific Science Center</li>
<li>The Seattle Aquarium (Seattle) </li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/washington-part-1-snoqualmie-and-spokane.html" target="_blank">Washington, Part 1: Snoqualmie and Spokane</a><br />
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For more on this trip, check out #raymansgowest on Twitter.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-59118556024746315122015-09-08T18:54:00.000-07:002015-09-13T17:38:54.862-07:00Washington, Part 1: Snoqualmie and Spokane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Enormous waterfalls, famous diners and gardens straight out of Alice in Wonderland highlighted my time in Washington proper. While the majority of my experience in Washington has been in Seattle, a stop-over on the way to the Emerald City and a day trip just outside its borders exposed natural and man-made beauty that opened my eyes to the magical and memorable offerings throughout the state.<br />
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Snoqualmie Valley</h3>
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My comedy group Dirty Water was a regular at the Seattle Improv Festival, and our three trips there afforded us plenty of opportunities to explore. During our visit in 2009, we grabbed a zip car and made the drive out to the Snoqualmie Valley. Seattle is surrounded by water and mountains, which made for a lovely drive. We passed by several mountain peaks during our journey. Some of the mountains were snowcapped while the others were covered in a mossy green.<br />
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Snoqualmie is a scenic area that hosts, among other things, the Snoqualmie Falls. We were intent on checking out the falls, but first, we needed to fill our growling bellies. Fortunately, there was a diner close to the falls, and a famous one at that.<br />
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Twede's Cafe was made famous by the TV show Twin Peaks. Many of the diner scenes in the show were filmed there. The restaurant doesn't look like it did when the show was filmed because a fire in 2000 damaged it and required extensive renovations. The remodeled version of Twede's appeared in the movie adaptation of the show, <i>Fire Walk With Me. </i>There's lots of Twin Peaks memorabilia on the walls, and they still offer cherry pie, the quality of which was a running bit throughout the show.<br />
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I've never seen Twin Peaks. For me, the highlight of the diner was the menu full of specialty hamburgers. They had about 378 different burger options. Some were quite exotic, and every one we tasted was delicious.<br />
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Of course we had to try the dishes made famous by the show, a slice of cherry pie, and "a damn fine cup of coffee."<br />
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Fed and entertained, our band of hairy comedians set out towards the main attraction in the valley, Snoqualmie Falls. I've written about several waterfalls in this blog, including <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/tennessee-part-1-great-smoky-mountains.html" target="_blank">Rainbow Falls in Tennessee</a> and <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/07/minnesota-part-2.html" target="_blank">Minnehaha Falls in Minnesota</a>. Both of those are large falls, but at 270 feet, Snoqualmie Falls dwarfs them all. We got a great view of the falls when we arrived.</div>
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The observation deck also offered excellent views. </div>
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After enjoying the falls from above, we embarked on a hike that would deliver a view from below. The trail was well-manicured and easy to navigate, and the walk was downhill. It gave us a first-hand look at the rich greenery of the valley, which was beautiful. </div>
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We also passed large pieces of equipment from the nearby hydroelectric plant that were not as attractive.<br />
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As we reached the end of the trail, we caught a great view of the river that ran off from the waterfall.<br />
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After walking along the river's edge for a while, we reached the lower observation deck, which provided a nice view of the falls from below. </div>
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As we stood and admired the falls, we noticed several people on the river's edge enjoying a closer, clearer view. There were several signs telling visitors not to walk to the river, but clearly the locals knew what was up, so we followed their lead, hopped the fence, and ventured out on to the slippery rocks below.<br />
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This afforded us a more direct and more dramatic view of the falls.<br />
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We lingered beneath the falls for a half an hour or so, enjoying the sound of the rushing water and taking in the world around us. Afterwards, we made the trek back up the trail. It was a bit more difficult on the way back up, but in the end, the 1.2 mile round trip hike was more than worth it.</div>
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I would recommend a trip to the Snoqualmie Falls to anyone looking for a day trip from Seattle, and the Twede Cafe is the perfect spot for a bite on the way. </div>
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<h3>
<span class="s1">Spokane </span></h3>
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Mrs. Tires and I embarked on an epic road trip in 2014 that brought us to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/wyoming-part-1-devils-tower-to.html" target="_blank">Yellowstone</a> and <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/02/montana-part-1-yellowstone-to-glacier.html" target="_blank">Glacier National Park</a> and would eventually deliver us to Seattle. After spending the night in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/04/idaho.html" target="_blank">Coeur d'Alene, Idaho</a>, we started our last day on the road with a stop in Spokane.<br />
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We were originally drawn to Spokane by Marvin Carr's One of a Kind in the World Museum, an eccentric collection of oddities that Marvin Carr had gathered over the years. When we looked up the directions, we learned Marvin Carr passed in the end of 2013 and the museum was shut as a result. </div>
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We needed to choose a new destination quickly, so we called on our old friend Trip Advisor and chose the #1 attraction in Spokane, the Manito Gardens. This huge public park housed all kinds of gardens, including a zen garden, a rose garden and its signature Duncan Garden, a stunning arrangement of flowers that served as the centerpiece of the park. The place was absolutely gorgeous, and a joy to wander.</div>
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Our brief encounter with Spokane was a pleasant one. The gardens were great, and the town seemed like a normal place to live. We would have lingered longer, but we were anxious to get to Seattle, so we got back on the highway after a right proper picnic in the park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">A right proper picnic in Manito Park </td></tr>
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The land got pretty flat and normal west of Spokane. After a few minutes of smelling foul scents while driving down the highway, I came to the conclusion that the surrounding towns smelled like cow shit. We suffered through the stench for a while longer, until I noticed I had been following directly behind a truck that was transporting a large herd of cows. As I passed them, I realized I was actually following a whole caravan of them. That certainly explained the odor. My apologies to the towns in Eastern Washington for jumping to such conclusions. I also apologize to Mrs. Tires.<br />
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The surroundings got craggy again towards the middle of the state. We stopped at this scenic overview for a stretch and a snack.<br />
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Things got more and more mountainous as we made our way towards Seattle. When we approached Snoqualmie, we noticed signs that said the highway we were taking was closing at a certain spot at 7:00 PM. It was 6:00 PM and we had about sixty-five miles until the point where they'd be closing it off. We weren't about to get stuck or fight our way through an alternative route, so we stayed focused and drove fast as we raced the clock. Fortunately, we made it past the stopping point with about five minutes to spare. <br />
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We pressed on, and eventually got to Seattle after dark. Appropriately, it was raining as we entered the city.<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/09/washington-part-2-seattle.html" target="_blank">Check Out Washington, Part 2: Seattle</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-57068531352528834822015-09-06T21:48:00.000-07:002015-09-07T09:25:27.196-07:00Rhode Island<!--?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?-->
Rhode Island is a teeny tiny little state. I've driven through it on my way to larger states, but haven't spent much time there.<br />
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My mom and I spent a weekend in Providence once. They had an IMAX theater. In my mind, that's Providence's most distinguishing feature. It's a pretty generic city.<br />
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Elsewhere in Rhode Island, a giant termite known as the Big Blue Bug watches over the state.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image stolen from the internet</td></tr>
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And that's my story about Rhode Island.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-82685329899100469352015-09-01T22:19:00.001-07:002015-09-01T22:51:54.382-07:00Illinois, Part 2: Starved Rock and Galena<div>
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There’s no doubt that <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/illinois-part-1-chicago.html" target="_blank">Chicago</a> is the main attraction in Illinois. Its cultural and architectural contributions are on a world-class level, and its big shoulders stand in sharp contrast to the sparsity and anonymity of the rest of the state. Fortunately, during my twelve years as an Illinoisan, I have found a few other places in Illinois that are great spots to visit in their own right. </div>
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Starved Rock
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Illinois is remarkably flat. Its idle topography leads to weak calves, and facilitates a lot of bike paths. However, there's one area of the state that stands out in comparison, both literally and figuratively. Starved Rock is an Illinois State Park, and its remarkable hills have provided Illinois residents with a change in altitude since it was established in 1912.
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Mrs. Tires and I first visited Starved Rock during a weekend getaway in 2006, and we followed that up with a one-day visit on Memorial Day weekend in 2015. Both visits started with a trip to the visitor center parking lot, which doubles as the launching point for the park's most popular trails. Most of the hikes in this vicinity are fairly easy. There's some uphill climbing involved, but that's typically facilitated by well-maintained stairs. Some of the trails lead to top-of-the-world-type views, such as those found on the Lover’s Leap Trail and the Starved Rock Trail.
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Other trails in the vicinity take hikers along the banks of the Illinois River, where birds, frogs and the occasional bald eagle show up to say hello. These trails often lead to various canyons, some of which feature their own waterfalls. The falls aren't particularly impressive, but the patterns displayed in the canyon formations are aesthetically pleasing, and the canyon visits are gratifying.
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Our favorite trail in Starved Rock is the Illinois Canyon Trail, which sits on the outskirts of the park. The trail brings visitors down a huge canyon, and the formations that flank the trail make for a unique hiking experience. There are several river crossings to navigate along the way, which add an element of adventure to the hike. There’s also a secret at the end.<br />
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When we first set out on this hike, we were struck by how secluded it felt. The canyon walls on either side and the thick collection of tall trees along the trail made an enclosure that was a bit creepy at first, but quickly became peaceful and relaxing. The tree covering also protected us from the heat. </div>
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As we ventured further in, we noticed just how huge the canyon walls really were. Here's a shot of me taking them in during our first visit.
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And here's me taking in the same view when we hiked the trail again in 2015.
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As we continued on, we came across the first of three river crossings. Finding our way across took a bit of skill and some strategic planning. We made frequent use of the logs, barrels and rocks in the river to get to the other side. We got wet a few times while performing these maneuvers, but the process added an extra layer of fun to the hike. </div>
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Trees and shrubs appeared in various forms as the trail continued.
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The trail ended at a pool that offered some finality and made for a nice photo opportunity despite the murky water.
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While this was technically the end of the trail, our journey didn't stop there. We got a tip from a local that there was a secret swimming hole on the other side of the canyon.<br />
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Here's how to get to the swimming hole, dear reader, in case you ever take this hike. Face the murky water, walk to the canyon wall on the left, and then turn around so the water is behind you. You'll notice a worn down trail that goes uphill along the canyon wall. You see the sign that says "Do Not Enter?" That's where you enter. </div>
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From there, a five minute hike brings you past a series of interlocking pools that feed into the water at the bottom of the canyon. One of these pools is the swimming hole. </div>
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We were skeptical when we set out to find the secret pool. However, our concerns were assuaged when we got there and saw a couple of families swimming and lounging. We joined them and enjoyed the cool water and the seclusion.
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Some of the kids there were climbing up the cliff behind the pool and jumping off and into the water. Who were we to buck the local customs? Mrs. Tires got gutsy and went first, pulling off a majestic leap and splashing into the water.
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I followed suit and took the plunge.
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We stayed there for a couple of hours before making the trek back. The hike and the swimming hole ended up being the highlights of our first visit. Mrs. Tires was a bit too pregnant to make it to the swimming hole during our second trip, but we thoroughly enjoyed the trail nonetheless. </div>
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One more adventure in the vicinity of Starved Rock awaited us during our inaugural visit. We brought our bicycles with us so we could bike down the Illinois and Michigan Canal, a nature trail and bike path with an entrance just outside Starved Rock. The path was well-manicured, wide, and easy to navigate, and we were the only ones on the trail for most of the day. It was a welcome change from the crowded, narrow bike paths in Chicago we were used to. I almost ran over a snake that was lounging in the path (I HATE snakes), and we were forced into a conversation with an angry homeless man at one of the stop-offs along the trail, but other than those unfortunate occurrences, we had a wonderful ride.
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In Illinois, we’re a bit...ehem...<i>starved</i> for nature destinations. Thankfully Starved Rock is there to satisfy that hunger.<br />
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Galena
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Galena is the definition of Midwestern quaint. Its main street makes one feel they’ve been transported back to a simpler time, and the surrounding area offers such fanciful activities as horseback riding and cross-country skiing. Mrs. Tires and I spent a weekend in Galena in 2011, and we found it to be a wonderful getaway spot that allowed us to unwind, get some fresh air and explore.
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We left Chicago after work on a Friday and got to the <a href="http://www.eagleridge.com/" target="_blank">Eagle Ridge Resor</a>t in Galena about three and a half hours later. The resort was rustic and expansive, sitting on several acres of open land. It made for a wonderful home away from home.<br />
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We arrived in time to catch some of the “entertainment” in the on-site bar Friday night. I put entertainment in quotes because the “live band” the events calendar advertised was made up of a small asian man behind a keyboard singing cover songs…poorly. We shared a couple of drinks and laughed about the situation before calling it a night. </div>
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Our agenda for our only full day in Galena involved taking advantage of the outdoor winter activities the resort offered. Sledding, cross-country skiing, snow-shoeing and ice skating were part of their winter hotel package, and we were interested in all of the above. Unfortunately, we were in the middle of a rare mild winter, so the pond wasn't frozen and there was no snow. That foiled our winter wonderland-inspired plans. The resort also offered a network of hiking trails, so we set out to have an outdoor adventure that way instead.<br />
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The trails were easy to navigate, but winter had stripped the grounds of much of its natural beauty, and without snow to compensate, the surroundings looked sparse and a bit depressing. Additionally, winter seemed to be taking hold in earnest that weekend, so it was also very cold. We wandered the trails for a bit, but ended up cutting our hike short.<br />
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With our outdoor adventure plans dashed, we went for plan C, a venture into the town of Galena to stir up whatever fun we could.
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Plan C ended up being a great one, as the town was charming and it offered many interesting stops on the appropriately-named Main Street. We started on one end of the street and wandered around, checking out whatever took our fancy. Our first stop was in a small sushi bar, where we split some delicious rolls and got a kick out of their demonic men's bathroom sign.<br />
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From there we spent some time in a funky kitchen decor shop, a dive bar, a winery, a book store, a coffee shop, an art gallery, and a few more stores and establishments. We were thoroughly entertained by the items we found along the way, and it was quite freeing to just wander the town without a plan or destination in mind. </div>
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The Galena Brewing Company was one of our favorite stops along the way. They had some excellent dark beers - my favorite. We hung out at the brewery for a while and bought a couple of growlers to bring home.
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It was a good thing we liked the brewery so much, as it was also our destination for the evening. I had checked out the musician performing that night when I was planning the trip and knew he was pretty good. We returned to the brewery in time for dinner and the show, and it did not disappoint. The food was tasty and the musician was fantastic. His song selections were spot on, and he was a great performer. I wish I could remember his name. We rocked out hard during his first set, and we scored seats on the brewery's comfy leather couch for set number two. </div>
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The musician inspired us that night, so when he left the stage, we headed to a nearby karaoke bar. The list of singers at the bar was pretty sparse, so we were up as soon as the one person ahead of us sang her tune. Mrs. Tires rocked Plush by Stone Temple Pilots, and I followed that up with Blind Melon’s No Rain. Our singing brought the house down, with many people cheering and whooping it up after our performances. We could have sung all night, but instead we followed the old performance adage and left them wanting more. After accepting a couple of high fives from the bar patrons, we bouncing out and let that be the cap to our evening. </div>
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We checked out of the resort the next morning, but we had one more stop on the docket before we left Galena - the alpaca farm that’s part of the <a href="http://www.galenalogcabins.biz/" target="_blank">Galena Log Cabin Getaway</a>. The generous owners of this establishment invite people to visit their alpacas at any time of day. We gladly took advantage of the offer that Sunday.
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Alpacas are strange looking creatures that are quite friendly. We hung out with them for a while, and were amused by their odd appearance and strange sounds. They ate grass from our hands, and we were mildly successful in conversing with them by mimicking their calls.<br />
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They seemed to take a liking to me, probably because we have the same hair style.
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After a half an hour or so, we said goodbye to the alpacas, and to Galena. It was a delightful visit, and we will definitely go back.<br />
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As much as I love Chicago, I do feel the need to get away from time to time. Between Starved Rock and Galena, Illinois offers some great options to do just that.</div>
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Must See in Illinois:<br />
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<li>The Illinois Canyon Trail (Starved Rock)</li>
<li>Main Street (Galena)</li>
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Check It Out:</div>
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<li>Eagle Ridge Resort (Galena)</li>
<li>The Alpaca Farm at Galena Log Cabin Getaway (Galena)</li>
<li>Lovers Leap and the Starved Rock Trail (Starved Rock)</li>
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The "Next Time" List: </div>
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<li>Metropolis</li>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-28743681094865393292015-08-23T22:05:00.000-07:002016-03-14T20:20:51.266-07:00Illinois, Part 1: Chicago<div>
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I moved to Chicago in 2003 and have called it home ever since. It's an incredible city full of world-class sites, attractions and restaurants, and it's clean, welcoming and accessible to residents and visitors alike.</div>
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My experiences in Chicago over the last twelve years could make up their own blog, so instead of recounting my vast collection of stories from living in this fair city, this post is going to focus on the destinations I recommend to visitors so others can enjoy the Windy City as much as I do. If you're visiting Chicago, here are the must-see attractions. </div>
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The Chicago History Museum</h3>
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The <a href="http://chicagohistory.org/" target="_blank">Chicago History Museum</a> was renovated fairly recently, and it's extremely underrated. It focuses on Chicago's rich and insane history, and its subject is brought to life via a number of modern, interactive exhibits. Some of my favorites include the replica blues club that is used to represent the Chicago jazz and blues scene, and the old "L" car from 1893. Both of these features allow visitors to climb right in and experience them first hand.<br />
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The museum also covers the great Chicago Fire, the fame and futility of the Chicago sports teams, the 1893 Worlds Fair, and much more. The ground floor is intended for kids, but it's quite fun for all ages. I'm a big fan of the signature giant Chicago hot dog.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who ordered the Jacoby Dog?</td></tr>
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Residents and visitors alike will be delighted by this museum. I've been there twice now, and I have yet to cover the museum in its entirety. Do yourself a favor and check it out.<br />
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<h3>
Millennium Park</h3>
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<!--?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?--><a href="http://www.cityofchicago.org/city/en/depts/dca/supp_info/millennium_park.html" target="_blank">Millennium Park</a> is a fairly new park that offers a lot of cool features and hosts many free events. It was supposed to open before the turn of the century, but like most Chicago construction projects, it was delayed, finally opening in 2004. The centerpiece of the park is a reflective, metallic structure called Cloud Gate, which everyone calls "The Bean." The reflective surface of the bean is the most appealing part of the structure, as the city skyline can be seen bouncing off of it, and it facilitates many photo ops.<br />
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Just south of the bean sits a couple of spitting monoliths. Crown Fountain features two tall towers that show the faces of real Chicagoans. After videos of their mostly still faces display on the towers for a few minutes, the people purse their lips and a water cannon opens up, creating the impression that the people are spitting water out of their mouths. The wading pool that sits in between the structures offers some respite from the heat. Kids love it.
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The Pritzker Pavilion is another staple of the park. Its odd design and manicured grass make for the perfect setting for free concerts and movies. I once saw She and Him play there. I also made a brief cameo in a short film that played at the pavilion before a showing of <i>Pee Wee's Big Adventure</i>. It was a thrill to see myself on the screen in front of so many people. When my travel blog buddies <a href="http://www.barryandstefsblog.com/" target="_blank">Barry and Stef</a> came to Chicago, a showing of <i>O Brother, Where Art Thou</i> offered the perfect opportunity to meet up and share a few glasses of wine.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Mrs. Tires with Barry and Stef</td></tr>
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To the south of the Pritzker sits the Lurie Garden, a lovely flower garden that makes for a wonderful stroll and is a great place to eat lunch.</div>
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Just as charming as the regular features of the park are the ones that pop up only on occasion. Millennium Park hosts a revolving collection of temporary art exhibits and installations. As I write this, the featured work is a collection of statues of faces, each of which are rather narrow but creates the illusion of being proportional.
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They also do lots of cool things with lighting and color, such as this installation from a few years ago.</div>
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Millennium Park was built in part to boost tourism in the northern park of downtown, but it gets lots of use from the locals as well. My theory is Millenium Park is all about who we are as Chicagoans. Real Chicago residents are featured on the spitting towers. The reflective surface of the bean lets us look at ourselves as a huddled group of people engulfed in the city. Many of the movie selections they show during the weekly movie series have strong Chicago ties, such as <i>The Blues Brothers</i> and <i>Ferris Bueller's Day Off</i>. </div>
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The city recently opened a new park that's just across the winding snake bridge from Millennium. Named after the wife of our most recent ex-mayor, <a href="http://www.chicagoparkdistrict.com/parks/maggie-daley-park/" target="_blank">Maggie Daley Park</a> offers a public climbing wall, a gargantuan playground, and a series of winding paths that convert into a ribbon-style skating rink in the winter. The park is open now, but it's still under construction. If I am still living in Chicago when my newborn son is old enough to use the playground, I can envision many days monkeying around in Maggie Daley Park. </div>
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<h3>
The Butterfly Haven at the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum</h3>
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The <a href="http://www.naturemuseum.org/" target="_blank">Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum</a> as a whole is not a great museum. It's mostly for kids, and the Midwestern wildlife it represents via taxidermied deer and foxes is less than impressive. However, it does feature one outstanding, must-see destination - the butterfly haven. This enclosed greenhouse-like dome houses over one thousand butterflies that freely flutter around the haven. They're beautiful creatures, and they're a joy to track as they fly around. Occasionally they even land on the visitors. At a specified time every day, new butterflies are introduced into the environment, much to the delight of the observers. It's a perfect destination in winter, as the haven is warm and toasty, making it a perfect escape from the chill of the season.
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<h3>
Whirlyball</h3>
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Combine bumper cars, basketball and lacrosse, and you get <a href="http://whirlyball.com/" target="_blank">Whirlyball</a>. This hybrid sport is fun, fun, fun. Each player boards a bumper car, and when the game begins, a combination steering wheel and joy stick allows them to steer their vehicle around the indoor course. The other hand holds a banana-shaped scoop which is used to catch an oversized whiffleball and pass it to teammates. The game is typically a five-on-five affair, with the ultimate goal of tossing the ball into a one foot wide hole in the mounted backboards on either end of the court. Add in the fact that you can ram your opponent at will and you've got a brilliant game that's a laugh riot from beginning to end.<br />
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What's more, it's now hosted in a new facility that also offers a full bar, laser tag, billiards and bowling. The cars are pretty beat up, some are faster than others, and you're bound to leave with a bruise or two from the impacts. Regardless, it's hard to think of a group activity that's more fun than Whirlyball.<br />
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The Museum of Science and Industry</h3>
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The <a href="http://www.msichicago.org/" target="_blank">Museum of Science and Industry</a> is a bit of a hike from downtown, but it's well worth the venture. This historic structure offers thrilling exhibits that will captivate the mind and the heart. I always start with the giant model train, which features miniature replicas of Chicago and Seattle and represents the terrain that sits between the two as trains make the journey from one city to the other. The interactive bits and the minute details add an extra layer of charm to this huge and enthralling exhibit.<br />
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Equally heart-warming is the genetics exhibit, which displays hatching chicks. They crack through their shells with their beaks, force their way out of their enclosures, and go from soaking wet freak weirdos to fluffy, adorable baby chicklets before the eyes of the crowd standing around them. Just don't tell the young fans clamoring around the exhibit that the young chickens eventually become lion food at the Lincoln Park Zoo.<br />
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There's also a full-sized submarine, several planes, an interactive weather exhibit, a replica coal mine, an IMAX theater and a whole lot more.<br />
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The museum brings national exhibits to Chicago, such as <a href="http://www.bodyworlds.com/en.html" target="_blank">Body Worlds</a>. Occasionally the exhibits stretch the boundaries of what is considered science and industry, but no one complains. The best exhibit I saw there was one on the life and works of Jim Henson, which brought visitors on a journey from Henson's early years to his work on the Muppets, Star Wars and the Dark Crystal. Did you know that Bunsen and Beaker originally appeared as jazz musicians on a record cover Henson illustrated? Fun fact!
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Biking Down the Lakefront Trail</h3>
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If you visit Chicago on one of the increasingly rare warm days, a great way to experience the city is to get a bike and cruise down the Lakefront Trail. Bikes can be rented at downtown shops, or you can use a Divvy Bike, a public bike that can be borrowed from stations around town for a small fee. I have the pleasure of biking down the Lakefront Trail to get to work whenever it's not cold or raining. It runs along the shore of Lake Michigan, where natural beauty meets man-made wonder.<br />
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If you start at Montrose and bike south, you'll pass several baseball fields, tennis courts and other grassy areas. When you reach Belmont, you'll see many boats docked at Belmont Harbor and a nice view of the water, which sparkles on a sunny day.<br />
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Once you pass the Theater on the Lake at Fullerton, you get an unobstructed view of the lake and several beaches. North Avenue beach is one of the largest and most popular beaches in the city, and it hosts many volleyball tournaments featuring top talent. It's the premiere beach to catch <a href="http://www.cityofchicago.org/city/en/depts/dca/supp_info/chicago_air_and_watershow.html" target="_blank">Chicago's Air and Water Show</a>, and it also hosts Red Bull's annual Flugtag, a man-made flying machine competition.<br />
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It also features one of two watering holes you'll pass on this stretch of the path. The large tugboat structure offers public restrooms and a snack shop on the lower level, while the upper portion houses a restaurant and bar called <a href="http://www.castawayschicago.com/index.html" target="_blank">Castaways</a>. As a bar, it's ok at best, but how can you beat sipping a margarita while sitting on top of a giant tugboat overlooking the water? <br />
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As you move further south, you reach Oak Street Beach. This beach is another favorite of mine. When you sit on the sand, you see nothing but pristine water in front of you while the bulk of the city stands behind you.<br />
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It also hosts the <a href="http://www.oakstreetbeach.com/" target="_blank">Oak Street Beach bar</a>, a newer bar that seems like it would be more at home in California than in the midwest. This one is not a great bar either, but it affords the chance to enjoy a cold beer while you look out on one of the country's most famous lakes.<br />
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Surprises occasionally appear on Oak Street Beach, such as the Magritte Feet, which appeared there in the summer of 2014 to advertise the Magritte exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago.<br />
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Once you petal past Oak Street Beach, the path widens and you approach Navy Pier. Enjoy the width of the path here, as the roughest patch is coming up. As you pass Navy Pier, the path becomes part of a sidewalk that runs parallel to a highway. It's narrow and unnerving, and it's likely that it'll be populated with tourists that have no idea they're walking down a bike path. Thankfully, the city is building a bridge called the <a href="http://www.navypierflyover.com/" target="_blank">Navy Pier Flyover</a> that will bypass this mess and make the stretch safer and more enjoyable for all.<br />
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It's smooth sailing from there. You'll pass through a beautiful grassy area that runs parallel to several docks, and then encounter a long straight stretch that brings you past Grant Park.<br />
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Further down, you reach museum campus, a lovely stretch that brings you past some more docks, as well as the Field Museum and the Planetarium. You'll also get a quick peek inside the aquarium, as the path butts up against the dolphin pool.<br />
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After museum campus, the path becomes less crowded. You'll pass a long, straight stretch past Soldier Field and McCormick Place, and then it's off to the south side, which is sparsely populated and brings you past a nature preserve and a bird sanctuary.<br />
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The Lakefront Trail is a true gem and a great way to see the city. I am one lucky duck for being able to cruise this route fifty or more times a year.<br />
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If you don't think you'll make it to the Lakefront Trail, fear not! I've got you covered. This GoPro timelapse video of the ride from Montrose to Navy Pier I shot will give you a taste:<br />
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<h3>
Wrigley Field</h3>
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As a Chicago North-Sider, I've always lived close to Wrigley Field. For a few years I could hear the roar of the crowd from my back porch. The significance of this has never been lost on me. Few baseball fans have the pleasure of living within walking distance of one of the sport's cathedrals. Getting to and from the ballpark on game days was a snap. At the same time, having 40,000 fans pour into my neighborhood every day made parking close to home nearly impossible (the Cubs radio broadcast was essentially my traffic report), and I could never rule out a drunk Cubs fan passing out on my stoop or puking outside my door. </div>
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Wrigley Field is the second-oldest stadium in all of baseball, and it's home of the Chicago Cubs. With a ticket to Wrigley in hand, one is treated to a multitude of features that bring baseball's past to life. The red and white sign that greets fans is one of the most recognizable stadium symbol in all of sports.<br />
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Once inside, fans are treated to a hand-operated scoreboard, an outfield wall covered with Wrigley's signature ivy, and organ music played by a real-life person. Listen for the organ player's clever song choices, which are often puns on players' names.<br />
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While this retro charm is found in few other places in baseball, it's not without its price. Getting to the right gate can be a major pain, and the lack of a wrap-around concourse means you must choose the proper entrance - you'll be turned away and forced to walk a block or more if you choose incorrectly. The mens bathrooms feature awkward trough-style toilets. It's also a real chore to navigate the stadium, and the seats are tiny, uncomfortable and cramped. </div>
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Up until recently, fans were without an efficient way of seeing a replay, a major detractor in my book. However, recent renovations fixed that. While some baseball purists poo-poo the giant jumbotrons that were recently installed in the outfield, to me it is worth sacrificing the time-honored tradition of being kept in the dark for the the ability to see the action in high definition right after it happens.<br />
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These renovations are wholly necessary to bring the Cubs into the modern era. The truth is that the old school charm of Wrigley has become a deterrent as much as a tradition, and if done right, the renovations will retain the charm while bringing the stadium, and the team, into the modern era. Change has always come slowly for the Cubs. They didn't even have lights installed until 1989. </div>
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Another Wrigley tradition comes in the form of the bleacher seats. People love sitting on the general admission, bench-style seats beyond the outfield, as this makes them official Bleacher Bums. Bleacher seats are worth it if you're only there for sun, beer and socializing (nothing wrong with that!), but for my money, I'll pass on the bleacher seats in exchange for an actual chair and a superior view.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">My proximity to Wrigley has lead to some lasting memories. In 2003 the Cubs sported a 6-1 lead over the Marlins while they were just on win away from the World Series. Some friends of mine and I headed to the stadium so we could be outside with the crowd when the Cubs punched their ticket to the championship series. Well, it didn't happen. Steve Bartman happened. We witnessed Bartman being ushered down the ramp and out of the stadium while fans booed, jeered and threw beverages in his direction. The Cubs would go on to lose the game and the next night's game, and would miss out on the World Series yet again. Despite the loss, it was pretty cool to be there in the flesh during a major event in the storied lovable-loser history of the franchise. </span></div>
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More recently, my buddy Matt scored seats seven rows behind home plate, and when the people in the front row left, we couldn't help but take the chance of a lifetime and sit there, front row and center. We were more than a few Old Styles deep at that time, so we ended up acting like the complete jackasses we promised we never would be, and we got kicked out of the seats before too long. However, they can't take the bucket list experience away from us, not ever. </div>
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If you want more on the Wrigley experience, check out Matt's blog about being a first-time season ticket holder: <a href="http://section403.com/" target="_blank">81 Games at the Friendly Confines</a>. You can also check out my contribution to his blog, <a href="http://section403.com/game-14-cubs-vs-brewers-game-2/" target="_blank">What Needs to Change at Wrigley, and What Needs to Stay the Same.</a></div>
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<h3>
<b>US Cellular Field</b></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N6qRNMqE3mKFMIoliEaIhOPUuzc-q-LOUSnjUyH-qcNsjD9B5y4gBBK2jNSVyogPTgrg5n3hQr5d2JC3Wlm8qTH2QWYMN-7UwuDiV7MBeGidXt_E5VI6qVXWQFc9UTAaiogFaTJg7oo/s1600/IMG_0826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N6qRNMqE3mKFMIoliEaIhOPUuzc-q-LOUSnjUyH-qcNsjD9B5y4gBBK2jNSVyogPTgrg5n3hQr5d2JC3Wlm8qTH2QWYMN-7UwuDiV7MBeGidXt_E5VI6qVXWQFc9UTAaiogFaTJg7oo/s640/IMG_0826.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If you're visiting Chicago for the first time and you can only attend one game, I'd recommend going to a game at Wrigley Field. The history of that stadium is rarely matched. However, having gone to both Wrigley and US Cellular 20+ times each, if you offered me a ticket to Wrigley and a ticket to US Cellular, I'd go to the Cell.<br />
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US Cellular Field is home to the Chicago White Sox. It is commonly and unfortunately referred to as "The Cell," and it is usually overshadowed by Wrigley Field. US Cellular doesn't have a great rep among stadium chasing enthusiasts, but it has a lot to offer, and a visit is almost always enjoyable. </div>
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The fun begins even before you step foot inside the stadium walls, as the Cell allows tailgating. We took advantage of this when my comedy group Dirty Water lead a bus full of baseball-crazed, booze-fueled revelers to a couple Red Sox vs. White Sox games in 2007 and 2008.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBR31I59br0T-m5hC4zHxwDC-qTAEHFcKzcTzKD5_olRAsaMTVK_04tc978ClDbjjhSKzcI3776b_ZIOQu-pohgWZUuB2mIn0BSI7onJ5itYPLhiEp-p51Svcf3mz1psKB-2592ca7Pc/s1600/DSCN4088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijBR31I59br0T-m5hC4zHxwDC-qTAEHFcKzcTzKD5_olRAsaMTVK_04tc978ClDbjjhSKzcI3776b_ZIOQu-pohgWZUuB2mIn0BSI7onJ5itYPLhiEp-p51Svcf3mz1psKB-2592ca7Pc/s640/DSCN4088.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dirty Water Drunk Bus crew</td></tr>
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Continuing past the parking lot, one comes across an odd and captivating art piece that commemorates the team's 2005 championship. This statue brings some character to an otherwise uninspiring stadium exterior.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxao2C-ZyW7K-CG9AGw9ww4ametXkiv8bqUoGHSe2TmBG8_aP7z0ZGSQBtoFm8q5Mfm93LP9F7bqZdRQHwbCZfpe8XMJUUHaVYQaWUPC7x-1SfGsXBM6dbNg9y15CYal6lppkG8GPA0c/s1600/IMG_1091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxao2C-ZyW7K-CG9AGw9ww4ametXkiv8bqUoGHSe2TmBG8_aP7z0ZGSQBtoFm8q5Mfm93LP9F7bqZdRQHwbCZfpe8XMJUUHaVYQaWUPC7x-1SfGsXBM6dbNg9y15CYal6lppkG8GPA0c/s640/IMG_1091.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Once inside the stadium, fans are treated to a plethora of amenities, including a large collection of statues on the concourse beyond the outfield. The sculptures have a lot of character, and having them all in one place inside the ballpark offers a welcome diversion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMh-lOpgUttMvm6Dkgvd1y_s_1feS9KDbZT1nBGtaMrItv7bXbEw2KE7YsuBqdV7j8sAXVZVNHssYYcBNfw3GvHh6ADAwg94I0ETcYitAsCB9OlAxq48kC3p1QCv4o4YOY5F54Z3iPMc/s1600/IMG_0842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMh-lOpgUttMvm6Dkgvd1y_s_1feS9KDbZT1nBGtaMrItv7bXbEw2KE7YsuBqdV7j8sAXVZVNHssYYcBNfw3GvHh6ADAwg94I0ETcYitAsCB9OlAxq48kC3p1QCv4o4YOY5F54Z3iPMc/s640/IMG_0842.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The double play combo of Luis Aparicio and Nellie Fox</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Fwd-HKJeCFJLEkBu5954_K6n5UI8ivjIXodtZVFI9HTpY0r9CxK4qaDlZSLYWSUDp-TezB3mgrmnfKshLAkeZ3SjToc3YeitEZPKLH3JwBz-WCvN72B8H_VqXzmYRDtBl_M6B2cH5HY/s1600/IMG_0841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Fwd-HKJeCFJLEkBu5954_K6n5UI8ivjIXodtZVFI9HTpY0r9CxK4qaDlZSLYWSUDp-TezB3mgrmnfKshLAkeZ3SjToc3YeitEZPKLH3JwBz-WCvN72B8H_VqXzmYRDtBl_M6B2cH5HY/s640/IMG_0841.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Former White Sox owner Charles Comiskey</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDKAvaE8mbef2TVGSAyfULmV1HxC6PK1KH7zE-W6nXtubXaTpGZh_dtg8oK3ajh_IXP5j6YYZpNmRBs92WCIIN9RbzQC_3qVzF7NEy1L6j8CFpDCM37mryQfVuljvpixDGNUkwG2qZkNn/s1600/IMG_0843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDKAvaE8mbef2TVGSAyfULmV1HxC6PK1KH7zE-W6nXtubXaTpGZh_dtg8oK3ajh_IXP5j6YYZpNmRBs92WCIIN9RbzQC_3qVzF7NEy1L6j8CFpDCM37mryQfVuljvpixDGNUkwG2qZkNn/s640/IMG_0843.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlton Fisk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliSZlswtc0gYjsUAKgZtvcVBZ-pzzOJt26IQoaRGdpjuRS6RGfd5Iy_HIOIDQbbtH3XhTP35rTKGIZ7yej-9uCCAkFmt7KBL3TuVv05RKOj3kOi14G_UUkufB_q1lgXu1BHoWfe0gfcVp/s1600/IMG_1092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjliSZlswtc0gYjsUAKgZtvcVBZ-pzzOJt26IQoaRGdpjuRS6RGfd5Iy_HIOIDQbbtH3XhTP35rTKGIZ7yej-9uCCAkFmt7KBL3TuVv05RKOj3kOi14G_UUkufB_q1lgXu1BHoWfe0gfcVp/s640/IMG_1092.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harold Baines and the White Sox show their support for the World Champion Blackhawks</td></tr>
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Once the game starts, fans are in for a high-energy, flashy presentation that hits the gas and never stops. The announcer's voice is deep and distinct, and his enthusiasm never waivers. AC/DC music blares throughout the game, and the scoreboards flash and blink frequently, which gets annoying rather quickly. </div>
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This energy is extended via the frequent fireworks. They're shot off to start the game, after every White Sox home run and after every win. It was always amusing to hear them go off while attending class at the Illinois Institute of Technology, which sits across the street. Additionally, the team offers frequent post-game fireworks displays which can't rival <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/ohio.html" target="_blank">Cleveland's</a>, but are enjoyable in their own right. Who doesn't like a good fireworks show? </div>
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There are plenty of delicious food options at the Cell. My favorite is the Bobak sausage, which is thick and juicy and is piled high with grilled peppers and onions. I can't get a whiff of a pepper-and-onioned sausage without thinking of the Cell. Another food staple of the stadium is the Elotes, a pile of corn shaved off the cob and topped with a choice of toppings, including salt, butter, pepper, chili powder, mayo and lime. My favorite move is to get them "loaded," which means a delicious combo of all of the above.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMBGUrde0ZQdwH3iHal3hZJNevsgWdNsS3YCoog0LFk4WRcKgXq6N84Usp1Uv56MVj-iekgHGl8aeWpv09EnalBv85j-djIkC92TC0q7ZmP2e2_D5I_qca-upoBy6a9LMzoWjqb1YyCI/s1600/IMG_1096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMBGUrde0ZQdwH3iHal3hZJNevsgWdNsS3YCoog0LFk4WRcKgXq6N84Usp1Uv56MVj-iekgHGl8aeWpv09EnalBv85j-djIkC92TC0q7ZmP2e2_D5I_qca-upoBy6a9LMzoWjqb1YyCI/s640/IMG_1096.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A recent addition to the foodie fare at the Cell is the Cuban Comet sandwich, a delicious tribute to former player Minnie Minoso. I tried it during my most recent visit and can vouch for its deliciousness.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWT0cozK16ju9nIffcj9QbOrow40uZPrWrZcvvJDJ1rgXOrkscTCx5bJELH6PIkiXJzmBV4WU2qlRtewfvK5RhWqCf0r6znQPQkdDeZX8sUHj3NkENqWWrLleX6KGmwszPyZiAyvsBOX5/s1600/IMG_1106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWT0cozK16ju9nIffcj9QbOrow40uZPrWrZcvvJDJ1rgXOrkscTCx5bJELH6PIkiXJzmBV4WU2qlRtewfvK5RhWqCf0r6znQPQkdDeZX8sUHj3NkENqWWrLleX6KGmwszPyZiAyvsBOX5/s640/IMG_1106.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My visits have produced some memorable moments over the years. My friend Jon and I had a blast goofing off while waiting out a rain delay. We had a race around the stadium concourse, and later we convinced an official stadium photographer to snap this photo. </div>
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That game ended up being postponed and made up a few weeks later. When we attended the makeup game, we witnessed a then-unknown rookie named Carlos Gomez hit for the cycle as a member of the Twins.<br />
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The Cell partners with the <a href="http://www.strikeoutals5k.org/faf/home/default.asp?ievent=1137113&lis=1&kntae1137113=21A69F99999E455F8506CAD40BB34E10" target="_blank">Les Turner Strike Out ALS Foundation</a> to host a unique 5K that benefits the fight against ALS, aka Lou Gehrig's disease. The race starts at the plaque that represents where the home plate of the old Comiskey Park used to stand and ends inside US Cellular Field, where runners take a lap around the warning track before crossing the finish line. I ran the race in 2013, and stayed to watch the All Star game, which they showed on the jumbotron in center field.</div>
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Overall I have to say that US Cellular Field offers a fantastic and underrated experience. It's all features and no character, as the industrial-looking architecture and blaring music provide the opposite of charm. If you look past that and see everything else the stadium has to offer, you'll be pleasantly surprised. </div>
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Honorable Mentions</h3>
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<a href="http://www.artic.edu/" target="_blank">The Art Institute of Chicago</a>: A world-class art collection that's further enhanced by the new modern art wing. Voted the #1 museum in the world by Trip Advisor. </div>
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<a href="https://oi.uchicago.edu/" target="_blank">The Oriental Institute</a><span id="goog_1306283578"></span><span id="goog_1306283579"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a>: This hidden gem is an awe-inspiring museum that houses huge and significant artifacts from all around the ancient world.</div>
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<a href="http://www.secondcity.com/" target="_blank">Second City</a>: Chicago's improv and sketch comedy scene is second to none, and the Second City theater consistently produces top-notch hilarity on stage
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<a href="http://www.sheddaquarium.org/" target="_blank">Shedd Aquarium:</a> The Wild Reef and the dolphin pool are worth the high price of admission and the crowds.
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<a href="http://www.signatureroom.com/" target="_blank">Signature Room at the Hancock Tower:</a> A classic top-of-the-world view. Skip the tour and spend the $10 on a beer at the Signature Room, the restaurant and bar at the top that offers a fantastic 360 degree view of the city. </div>
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<a href="http://www.lpzoo.org/" target="_blank">Lincoln Park Zoo:</a> A casual zoo that's free to enter. I could watch monkeys fight in the Primate House all day. They also host headliners of yesteryear via their Jammin' at the Zoo concert series. </div>
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There is a ton to see and do in Chicago. It's hard to check out everything in less than a week. Heck, I haven't seen everything, and I've lived here for over a decade. If you've never been to Chicago before, come on by! Hit me up when you're in town. Maybe we can catch a movie in Millennium Park. </div>
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Must see in Chicago:</div>
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<ul>
<li>The Chicago History Museum</li>
<li>Millennium Park</li>
<li>The Lakefront Trail</li>
<li>Wrigley Field</li>
</ul>
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Check it out:</div>
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<ul>
<li>The Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum</li>
<li>Whirlyball</li>
<li>The Art Institute of Chicago</li>
<li>The Museum of Science and Industry</li>
<li>US Cellular Field</li>
<li>Lincoln Park Zoo</li>
<li>The Signature Room</li>
<li>Shedd Aquarium</li>
<li>Second City</li>
<li>The Oriental Institute</li>
</ul>
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Skip it:
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<ul>
<li>The Field Museum</li>
<li>Navy Pier </li>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-15272991466168001652015-08-17T11:23:00.000-07:002015-08-17T11:23:45.793-07:00Nebraska<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For a long time, I thought Nebraska was a myth. I had never met anyone from Nebraska, I had never seen a Nebraska license plate, and I had never heard of a single travel destination within the state.<br />
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I finally confirmed Nebraska's existence when I traveled through it on a cross-country trip in 2003. After waking up in Chicago, my travel companion and I made our way across Illinois and <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/06/iowa-2.html" target="_blank">Iowa</a> in a day, and made it to Omaha, NE by nightfall. A full day of driving left us too tired to do any exploring, but I remember thinking that Omaha looked like a surprisingly cool town that I'd like to check out more thoroughly sometime.<br />
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The next morning we set out on a journey that would bring us from one end of Nebraska to the other. Immediately we were struck by how vast, unpopulated and flat it was. At first we found the abundant greenery and huge blue sky above us to be charming, but after a few long hours of driving, we quickly tired of the lack of...well...anything.<br />
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We stopped at a random roadside attraction in the middle of the state called <a href="http://www.pioneervillage.org/" target="_blank">Pioneer Village</a>. It's a museum of sorts that aims to preserve the notion of old-timey Americana.<br />
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While we welcomed the opportunity to see <i>something</i> out there in Nebraska, we weren't too into this particular attraction. It was sleepy, dusty, and poorly organized. We got more of a kick out of the real symbols of Americana that existed just outside the attraction, including lots of farmland and this train car, which appeared to have been turned into an antiques store and then abandoned.<br />
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Legs sufficiently stretched and Nebraska sufficiently judged, we got back on the road to make our way across the rest of the state. We hit some harrowing weather further west, which made its presence known via this interesting cloud formation.<br />
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We were treated to a beautiful sunset as we reached the western border of the state.<br />
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And with that, we were off to much more exciting states, including <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/04/colorado.html" target="_blank">Colorado</a>, <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/02/utah.html" target="_blank">Utah</a>, <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/03/arizona.html" target="_blank">Arizona</a>, <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/05/new-mexico.html" target="_blank">New Mexico</a> and <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/03/nevada.html" target="_blank">Nevada</a> before arriving in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/03/california-part-3-los-angeles.html" target="_blank">California</a>.<br />
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Also, God spoke to us. So that's cool.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-14336764569564457412015-08-13T18:47:00.003-07:002016-08-15T20:20:01.166-07:00Wisconsin, Part 3: Milwaukee and the House on the Rock<div>
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Wisconsin is charming as all get out, and it offers a ton of diverse and exciting travel destinations. In addition to the kitsch and class of Wisconsin Dells and Door County relived in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-1-dells-and-door.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a>, and the life-altering leap Mrs. Tires and I took in Sturtevant recounted in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-2-skydiving-in-sturtevant.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a>, Wisconsin delivers a welcoming, down-to-earth experience in Milwaukee, and a bizarre and beautiful getaway via House on the Rock.<br />
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Milwaukee</h3>
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My comedy group Dirty Water was a regular at the <a href="http://festival.milwaukeecomedy.com/" target="_blank">Milwaukee Comedy Festival</a>, which meant several visits to underrated Milwaukee. Our first performance there came during the festival's inaugural showing in 2006. That year, my friend and troupe-mate Jon and I headed up to Milwaukee a day early to catch the first night of the fest. We hadn't arranged for a place to stay that night, but in between shows, we met Matt Kemple, the energetic founder of the festival, and we ended up crashing at his place. His kindness and hospitality embodied the attitude I've found throughout my experiences in Wisconsin.<br />
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Jon and I had the better part of a day to kill before meeting up with the rest of the group for our performance the next night. We started by heading downtown, where we enjoyed a leisurely walk down the path that runs along Lake Michigan. This vibrant and well-manicured trail brought us by the city's funky art museum and reminded us a lot of the Lakefront Trail in Chicago, which was not surprising since it was on the same lake. <br />
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Our stroll worked up quite a thirst, so we sought out a couple of Milwaukee's dive bars, which were prevalent throughout the city. We met kind, down-to-earth people in each watering hole, and we thoroughly enjoyed chatting up the locals and telling them about the festival and our show. Everything was going great until a Steely Dan song came on the jukebox. Jon and I are not Steely Dan fans in the slightest, and we voiced this opinion to the other patrons. In an instant, the entire establishment turned against us. The bartender, the other customers, the whole place. Their collective friendliness dissolved, and they vehemently defended the quality of the band. Apparently we had insulted everything they considered true and holy. We finished our drinks in a hurry and got out of there, fearing their dedication to the Dan might cause the situation to turn violent. Fortunately, we survived. </div>
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The festival took place at the Times Cinema, a movie theater decked out in Hollywood memorabilia, including a life-sized statue of Alfred Hitchcock. At first it seemed odd that we'd be performing at a cinema, but the venue worked out great, and the festival pulled in a big crowd. </div>
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What's more, with Milwaukee only ninety minutes from Chicago, a few of our "fans" made the drive up to see our show. By fans, I mean our girlfriends. They brought some good luck with them, and our show was spectacular. The audience went crazy for us, cementing our long-term relationship with the festival.<br />
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We were invited back several times, which allowed us to see the festival grow in popularity and expand its reach. It moved to a downtown venue the next year, and by the third year we participated, it was a week-long event. The festival is still going today, and is about to celebrate its tenth year. </div>
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Dirty Water's popularity in Milwaukee grew with the festival, and the next time we performed, we were headlining the Friday night show. This afforded us a free Saturday, which we spent at Miller Park, home of the Milwaukee Brewers. There were many great things about this ballpark, one of which was that tailgating was allowed and encouraged. That's a rarity in major league parks, and we jumped at the chance to take advantage it.<br />
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Our show's setting was a fictional bar, so we took a portable bar with us on the road. The bar turned out to be the perfect tailgating accessory, as we set it up in the parking lot, put the grill on top, put on some brats and sausages we purchased at a local specialty meat store, and bellied up. We spent the rest of the day grilling, drinking, playing bags, chatting up Brewers fans, soaking up the gorgeous weather, and laughing like crazy, all in the shadows of Miller Park.</div>
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The game was a blast. The ballpark was quite attractive once we looked past the hundreds of ads, and the Brewers put on a great show. The famous sausage race was one of the highlights. It involved mascots resembling a bratwurst, a sausage, a kielbasa, a hot dog and a chorizo racing around the perimeter of the field. Races like this now appear in stadiums throughout the country, and it all started at Miller Park. We had a blast witnessing this baseball tradition and rooting for our favorite encased meats.<br />
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Home runs in Miller Park are celebrated by watching Milwaukee's mascot Bernie Brewer slide down his slide in left field, another quirky detail that made the ballpark light-hearted and unique. Additionally, all fans were invited to hang around after the game to watch the stadium's retractable roof close. While that may not sound exciting, I assure you, it was. The roof was an architectural marvel, and watching it close was mesmerizing. </div>
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I've visited Miller Park a few times now, and I thoroughly enjoyed every visit. However, nothing will match the joy that came out of that day at the park.<br />
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There's a must-see roadside attraction on the way up to Milwaukee - the <a href="http://www.marscheese.com/" target="_blank">Mars Cheese Castle</a>. This huge medieval structure offers shelf upon shelf and cooler upon cooler of cheese, most of which is made right in Wisconsin. Not sure which cheese to take with you on your journey? Fear not. The cheese castle offers many samples, and the staff is more than happy to talk cheese with you. Recent renovations have added a bakery and a bar. If you're heading up I-94, you've got to stop at the Mars Cheese Castle.<br />
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House on the Rock</h3>
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My most recent getaway to Wisconsin was also the weirdest. In the summer of 2014, Mrs. Tires and I set out to see a collection of oddities known as <a href="https://www.thehouseontherock.com/" target="_blank">House on the Rock</a>. This quirky attraction is just over three hours from Chicago, so we embarked on a weekend trip to check it out.<br />
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We hit the road early on Saturday and cruised through Illinois, and got to Wisconsin in time for lunch. Once we drove over the border, we found nice little park so we could enjoy a Rayman road trip tradition: a right proper picnic. The park worked out wonderfully, as it was wide open and beautifully green, and we had it all to ourselves. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">A right proper picnic, with mustard</td></tr>
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After refueling, we hit the road again and hightailed it to our next stop, the <a href="http://www.newglarusbrewing.com/" target="_blank">New Glarus Brewery</a>. This brew house offered delicious beer, including one called Spotted Cow. Their ode to speckled bovine is a big deal among Chicago beer lovers because it's quite tasty, and also because its not sold anywhere outside of Wisconsin. </div>
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New Glarus' Swiss-themed tasting area was the most unique I've seen. The architecture centered around a huge brick building that looked like a cuckoo clock. </div>
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In the shadows of the clock tower sat a wonderful seating area, with many picnic tables sitting in between brick installations that looked like ruins from old European buildings. The ruins added some nice detail, and they made the area look like a high-class paintball field. If you could play paintball there while sampling the beers, it really would have been the perfect place. </div>
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A small fee got us each a souvenir glass, and with the glass came samples of three beers of our choosing. I don't remember exactly which beers we tried, but I thought they were all quite tasty. Mrs. Tires concurred, with one exception. One of the beers she sampled almost made her gag. Thankfully she was able to sweet-talk the bartender into discarding it and pouring her a replacement.<br />
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As we sipped the last of our samples, we noticed two older gentlemen carrying out long black cases. We watched intently as they pulled out and assembled long wooden horns called alphorns. You may remember alphorns from the old Ricola ads. They treated us to three songs, each featuring long bellowing tones. It was a unique and unexpected show, and we loved every minute of it.<br />
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Once they finished playing, they invited patrons to try out the instruments. We thoroughly enjoyed witnessing people attempt to make music with them. Some that attempted were naturals while others fell flat. Regardless of the result, everyone had a good time playing and watching. </div>
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With that, we made a quick stop at the gift shop, then got back on the road.</div>
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We had a reservation that night at the <a href="https://www.thehouseontherock.com/HOTR_Lodging_Resort.htm" target="_blank">House on the Rock Resort</a>, which was associated with the House on the Rock. It proudly displayed a few select artifacts from the House, including a piano that played itself. A night's stay included tickets to the attraction.</div>
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The resort itself was nothing too special. We both agreed that the term "resort" was a bit misleading. However, it did sport one feature we couldn't get enough of, a back porch attached to our room that overlooked a long, pristine stretch of green rolling hills. After a quick swim in their outdoor pool, we hunkered down on the porch, poured some of our New Glarus beer, and gazed out at the view. We porch-sat for hours, chatted and drank while we enjoying our surroundings. For a while we looked out onto the wedding that was taking place on the grounds below. The porch truly was the highlight of our time at the resort.</div>
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After a few hours on the balcony, we changed our clothes and headed to dinner at the resort's fancy restaurant. On our walk over there, we realized the alcohol had caught up. My mother will probably read this, so I'm tempted the tamp the truth and say we were a little tipsy, but that would be way understating it. We were flat out DRUNK. </div>
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After stumbling from our room to the restaurant, we sat down and tried to appear as though we weren't wasted. It didn't work. We were giggling like crazy and were loud enough to earn some sideways glances from the other patrons. Oh well. The restaurant wasn't actually that fancy...or that good.<br />
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After dinner we tried to go to the bar at the resort, but it was closed for a wedding reception, so we wandered the grounds and then hung out in the lobby for a while. Eventually the bar reopened, but it was pretty quiet, so we had a quick drink and left. We did however score some leftover wedding favors, bubbles in the shape of a champagne bottle. </div>
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We went back to our room afterwards and had another drink on the porch. Mrs. Tires was pretty tired at that point and went to bed. I wasn't ready to call it a night just yet, so I stayed out on the balcony. I put the radio feed of the Red Sox game on and listened to the play-by-play as it went into extra innings. As the game went on, a thunderstorm rolled in. The porch was covered, so I was able to keep dry as the skies opened up and it began to pour. Lightning lit up the sky. The storm was powerful and the game was exciting, so it ended up being a wonderful night on the porch. I turned in just before 2:00 am. </div>
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The next morning it was time to move on to the <a href="https://www.thehouseontherock.com/" target="_blank">House on the Rock</a>. This attraction featured a huge and eclectic collection of all kinds of stuff gathered over many years by an eccentric named Alex Jordan. The legend behind the house was that Jordan was once friends with the famous architect Frank Lloyd Wright. Jordan came up with a design for a building, and he brought the idea to Wright with the hope of getting his approval. Wright wasn't impressed. He dumping on Jordan's idea and insulted his skills as a designer. Jordan wasn't too pleased with this, so he decided to go forward with the design and further resolved to build it on a giant rock, all to prove Wright wrong. He ripped off some of Wright's style and included it in the architecture of the building as an added F-You. </div>
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Research has proven that much of this story was a bunch of hogwash. The truth was that Jordan and Wright were actually only casual acquaintances, and furthermore, Wright was out of the country at the time the alleged confrontation took place. Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. </div>
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The signature feature of the building's architecture is the long, pointy glass enclosure that extends out over a cliff. We pulled off at a scenic overlook en route, and we could see the structure's iconic point from quite far away. </div>
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A feeling of wonder took over as we approached the House on the Rock. We drove down a long driveway surrounded by thick forest, and when we parked, we were greeted by a huge, bizarre planter and other large artifacts. </div>
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We were pretty excited as we handed in our tickets and purchased some tokens that were to be used to operate some of the machinery in the house. In we went.<br />
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The first portion of the house was rather anticlimactic. It was all about the life of Alex Jordan and the history of his collection. A few random pieces were interspersed throughout the exhibit, but not much. Mrs. Tires got into Jordan's story and went from wall to wall, reading every word of every write up. I was already familiar with Jordan's story and knew that most of it was bullshit, so I waited patiently while Mrs. Tires caught up.<br />
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Once the history lesson was over, we were directed outdoors, where we encountered a beautiful, expansive Japanese garden with a huge dragon fountain as the centerpiece. It was a wonderful bridge into the collection, and it would end up being my favorite feature of the house.<br />
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After soaking up the atmosphere of the garden, it was finally time to get into the collection.<br />
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A note on what you're about to see: while House on the Rock was quite memorable and interesting, it was also scattered to the point of being disorienting. I've done my best to present the experience in the order it occurred, but it was quite difficult, so forgive me if it's a bit out of order. Additionally, the lighting in the house was quite dim, which made it difficult to photograph. My apologies in advance for the less-than-stellar photography.<br />
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The house was broken up into three sections. As we entered section one, the random collection was immediately captivating. It's hard to describe it, other than that it was a strange and eclectic assortment of <i>stuff</i>.<br />
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Section one culminated in an exploration of the Infinity Room, the long pointy glass structure that juts out over a cliff, as I described earlier. It stretched out quite a long way, and walking down it was nerve-wracking. Part of the floor was cut out and replaced by thick glass, which allowed brave visitors to peer out into the valley below.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouN9mWYcwGMGB8ykD7Bdhr16FyKM3GdgAuOaxF_BIxLtvAi0HKyhM_7vgC2uDKphyphenhyphen0cwGvO4uA0VZa2us1Z0Ytnyg8JPEU6cr8v0Xft1rHrR8bA-TphTNgCoDiN6g9oguoa7T2fZhqUo/s1600/IMG_4057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouN9mWYcwGMGB8ykD7Bdhr16FyKM3GdgAuOaxF_BIxLtvAi0HKyhM_7vgC2uDKphyphenhyphen0cwGvO4uA0VZa2us1Z0Ytnyg8JPEU6cr8v0Xft1rHrR8bA-TphTNgCoDiN6g9oguoa7T2fZhqUo/s640/IMG_4057.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Things got even weirder as we moved into section two. Apparently Alex Jordan had a thing for dolls. His doll collection was a creepy assortment that made us feel like we were in a horror movie. </div>
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After surviving the dolls, we came upon a nautical-themed area that featured many model ships, items from some famous watercraft, and other ocean-themed knickknacks. A huge scene of a whale fighting a squid served as the section's centerpiece. Its massive scale and general coolness brought the collection to a new level. The lousy lighting lead to some mediocre photos, but here's one anyway. </div>
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From there, we moved on to a transportation-themed area full of planes and hot air balloons suspended from the ceiling. It also featured a snack shop.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudXHq7wpL7QWmJuHd-On2Cw1XTYFO6tk-O8OzD3F-6b2eTf7-6KsHxsot-DQ9fMR2bshx0oZdAR4_cNrJ5xyxGyxcHp7dMIvVHhklDOY5_81c9LOKO8uNk9IphnjvJw7l4VFlfXHVmtA/s1600/IMG_3443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudXHq7wpL7QWmJuHd-On2Cw1XTYFO6tk-O8OzD3F-6b2eTf7-6KsHxsot-DQ9fMR2bshx0oZdAR4_cNrJ5xyxGyxcHp7dMIvVHhklDOY5_81c9LOKO8uNk9IphnjvJw7l4VFlfXHVmtA/s400/IMG_3443.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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The second section concluded with a giant, freaky carousel that claimed to be the largest carousel in the world. Watching it was a loud and amusing experience. Here's a taste. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/7R-qiRDBxUY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7R-qiRDBxUY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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From there, we entered section three by walking through a giant demon's mouth. Why not? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabLPaZ3UOgghgglG1MHO7dtc6sKeh8Lxy-JXYnfZp1P2P7x9Hrfv5TcAKdR4Li4z6ZiJurN3l7EyPRT05W-K78ukKbLBPSiNPWdnVOhDMWS-eUn-09eWRlGkiF6-nq2UMt8o0-ze2DCo/s1600/IMG_4121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabLPaZ3UOgghgglG1MHO7dtc6sKeh8Lxy-JXYnfZp1P2P7x9Hrfv5TcAKdR4Li4z6ZiJurN3l7EyPRT05W-K78ukKbLBPSiNPWdnVOhDMWS-eUn-09eWRlGkiF6-nq2UMt8o0-ze2DCo/s400/IMG_4121.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Section three was louder, weirder, and darker. We were greeted with a series of musical ensembles that played themselves. Dropping a token turned on an ensemble, and each played a rendition of a popular song via automated instruments. </div>
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The concept was quite novel, but the execution was more clangy and clackity than melodic. Nonetheless, we spent quite a while dropping tokens and checking out the resulting performances. </div>
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At the conclusion of this section, we noticed we were getting a bit overwhelmed. Taking in so much stimulus while wandering from dimly-lit room to dimly-lit room was taking its toll. We got a much needed breath of fresh air via an outdoor cafe. The cafe itself was closed, but we were thankful to see the sunlight for a few minutes and re-orient ourselves with the outside world. We shared that the collection was getting to be a bit much, and we wouldn't be upset if it ended right there. However, there was more to the House on the Rock, so we trudged on. </div>
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The remainder of section three was truly random, presenting huge collections of things like jewelry boxes and circus figurines, in addition to several assorted, unaffiliated items. A sampling: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9E8iZ2X4PIkQ2hcYT9sNmd76tzZ3QMmtuzTj8KpKjKeeD68S6lzdIwPvoO7DnxPoyWjW1eM3uiDBqg5zNwe0xpo5KhGEoQRaKvEbjRJCrFvo9x8fL62uNIFZnlPjRT2EksmzsIgvT4oY/s1600/IMG_3447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9E8iZ2X4PIkQ2hcYT9sNmd76tzZ3QMmtuzTj8KpKjKeeD68S6lzdIwPvoO7DnxPoyWjW1eM3uiDBqg5zNwe0xpo5KhGEoQRaKvEbjRJCrFvo9x8fL62uNIFZnlPjRT2EksmzsIgvT4oY/s640/IMG_3447.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Acing my test</td></tr>
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The rooms kept going and going, and the collections went from delightful to self-indulgent. Instead of sparking our imaginations, the rooms were wearing us down. Our bodies were getting weak. Our minds were going fuzzy. We were reaching weird overload.<br />
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Eventually the house did indeed end, and we were spit out into the Japanese garden. Never before have I been so glad to leave an attraction and get back into real life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCzbPT8Kd6kCp-jy4boCbtDRrP_hKx-2MCBsdCoIvYSGAcUQjQXlaw-zgK6-QYyo1FM_LIsRh35cdFr4pIxYlw4LKe4t-u2EAWiCRMtatUlIDAQo1YP2tV-tpIadANyCFANloKrSy4N8/s1600/IMG_3448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCzbPT8Kd6kCp-jy4boCbtDRrP_hKx-2MCBsdCoIvYSGAcUQjQXlaw-zgK6-QYyo1FM_LIsRh35cdFr4pIxYlw4LKe4t-u2EAWiCRMtatUlIDAQo1YP2tV-tpIadANyCFANloKrSy4N8/s640/IMG_3448.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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We got in the car and headed back home from there, but it was a good hour or so before Mrs. Tires and I said a word. The weirdness contained within the House had completely taken over. Once we came to, we started discussing what we had just seen. We both agree that it was a wild, wacky and wonderful place, and a true marvel. At the same time, it was too much. The massive collection provided too much stimulus for too long, and the dim lights made things that much more difficult to enjoy. Still, we were glad we went, and the oddities we saw made the whole trip worth it. </div>
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For more on this journey, check out <a href="https://twitter.com/search?f=tweets&vertical=default&q=%23wisconsinweird&src=typd" target="_blank">#wisconsinweird</a> on Twitter. </div>
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I consider myself fortunate to live so close to Wisconsin. It's a fantastic state for a getaway, with its multitude of destinations and the relaxed beauty that surrounds them. If you haven't had the pleasure of visiting this state yet, it's time. Wisconsin is waiting for you!<br />
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Must See in Wisconsin:<br />
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<li>Skydive Midwest</li>
<li>Miller Park</li>
<li>The main drag in Door County</li>
<li>The main drag in Wisconsin Dells</li>
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Check it Out: </div>
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<li>House on the Rock</li>
<li>The Milwaukee Improv Festival</li>
<li>The New Glarus Brewery</li>
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The "Next Time" List: </div>
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<li>Madison</li>
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-1-dells-and-door.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 1: Dells and Door</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-2-skydiving-in-sturtevant.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 2: Skydiving in Sturtevant</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfF2KSIwgjrWJoSxD4leql14uxKrbcvT_7VzrIvE186iysdEpEGv9OT2gDxmNaeSZLFXGasaz2Lrgrh8O0oT6l4WEHslKqAxhG5IDEA32xhyQP20Z96h5tvrPZrXKqBGW8VroF6MzKHM7/s1600/IMG_0517+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfF2KSIwgjrWJoSxD4leql14uxKrbcvT_7VzrIvE186iysdEpEGv9OT2gDxmNaeSZLFXGasaz2Lrgrh8O0oT6l4WEHslKqAxhG5IDEA32xhyQP20Z96h5tvrPZrXKqBGW8VroF6MzKHM7/s640/IMG_0517+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-66049009740195833522015-08-10T16:33:00.000-07:002015-08-13T19:31:00.058-07:00Wisconsin, Part 2: Skydiving in Sturtevant<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlthUCBXu2b_jkVZ8PiKwSy4f21RJpVlHwgaBbwYDaiV8TssoryRic0W8JJOLh8aXh8oUi0W___GVIpDLoGskVY7DY8S4cOcKylb4xpDmjKmoy8sg2isAm2lPTAXbmextHGEfBkCKX_IL6/s1600/jumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlthUCBXu2b_jkVZ8PiKwSy4f21RJpVlHwgaBbwYDaiV8TssoryRic0W8JJOLh8aXh8oUi0W___GVIpDLoGskVY7DY8S4cOcKylb4xpDmjKmoy8sg2isAm2lPTAXbmextHGEfBkCKX_IL6/s640/jumping.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Wisconsin is amazing. It offers a diverse collection of destinations, each of which exposes another layer of cool within the state. In <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-1-dells-and-door.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a>, I recounted my trips to playful Wisconsin Dells and fancy Door County. <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-3-milwaukee-and-house-on.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a> will cover bizarre House on the Rock and down-to-earth Milwaukee.<br />
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This post is is dedicated to my most memorable visit to Wisconsin, a trip to Sturtevant, WI that Mrs. Tires and I took in July of 2009. She was Miss Tires back then, but not for long. That's because I brought a special surprise with me on that trip, a shiny new engagement ring that I intended to put on her finger. My plan was to spring the ring after we jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. </div>
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We had a full day and night in Gurnee Mills, IL planned before the big leap. There are two reasons people go to Gurnee Mills. The most common is to visit Six Flags Great America. We had visited Six Flags quite recently, so we opted for the second most popular destination in town, the Gurnee Mills Outlet Mall. </div>
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When we first got to the mall, we parked just outside the Bass Pro Shop, so we decided to made this massive outdoor sport shop our first destination. We were greeted by many taxidermied animal heads that were hung in the store's huge foyer. The only mounted animal collection I've ever seen that was any bigger was in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/06/south-dakota-part-1-badlands-national.html" target="_blank">Wall Drug</a>.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">A small sample of the many dead animal heads that greeted us</td></tr>
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We knew we were in for something big, and the rest of the store didn't disappoint. Among the displays of boats, tents and guns were several more taxidermied animals such as a bear and a moose, and a giant pond with a fake beaver dam and real fish. </div>
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The budget was pretty tight back then (I had just purchased a diamond ring after all) so instead of buying things, we played a game where we were allowed to choose one thing in each store that we would purchase if we had unlimited funds. This boat was my pick. </div>
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We had a blast at the Bass, and we were just getting started. We wandered from store to store, played our game in each place, and laughed a lot in the process. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">An illegally snapped photo from the mask store</td></tr>
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The whole time the proposal was in the back of my mind, but I tried to pretend everything was normal. I raised a bit of suspicion when we stopped for drinks at the Rainforest Cafe and I opted to purchase the souvenir glassware, something I never do. Luckily the suspicion passed and my secret was kept under wraps. </div>
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At one point Miss Tires pulled me into a Zales to look at engagement rings. I feigned interest, knowing that decision was already made. </div>
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The most unique feature of the Gurnee Mills Mall was the giant slot car course. It was the largest slot car track I had ever seen. We plunked down some cash and had a few races, each of which was fast and fun.</div>
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After our shopping trip, we checked into the Grand Hotel in Gurnee, which was our major motivation for choosing Gurnee as a destination. It was a special hotel that featured crazy decorations and themed rooms. There was Egypt room and a Paris room, a jazz room, a Disney room and more, each with unique features and decor.<br />
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A hallway illuminated with black lights guided us to our room.<br />
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We chose the rainforest room, which included tropical animals painted on the walls, a palm tree lamp, a jacuzzi tub and a giant toucan that was waiting on the bed to greet us. It was a bit cheesy, but also quite charming. </div>
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We got great use out of the jacuzzi, and we also enjoyed peeking into the other themed rooms while they were being cleaned. Unfortunately, the Grand Hotel is now a Super 8. While the themed rooms still stand, Trip Advisor reviews imply the hotel has gone downhill since our visit. Go figure. </div>
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That night we had dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack, a chain restaurant that offers gaudy decorations and an attempt at a sea shanty-type vibe that doesn’t quite come across. We had a fun time laughing at it all while we chowed down, and in my head, I was thinking about how a lot of people propose at dinner and how stupid I would look if I tried to propose there. I probably would have gotten a slap instead of a fiancee. </div>
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I was nervous when I woke up the next morning, and not only because of the impending skydive and proposal. The weather added a layer of anxiety, as the forecast predicted rain. This unfortunate turn of events could ruin my whole plan. As we drove north towards Wisconsin, we were relieved that we didn’t see any rain, just lots of cloud cover. We figured we’d be ok for the jump. </div>
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It was a short drive from Gurnee to Sturtevant, so I had just enough time to tell Miss Tires about the delightful conversation I had with a gentleman named Mike when I called Skydive Midwest to confirm our reservation. I told her about how we bonded because we both had Massachusetts roots and were huge Red Sox fans, and I added that he knew my Aunt Ruz and Uncle Charlie from his temple in Norwood, MA. I also said I’d have to seek out Mike when we got there, and she was delighted to hear we might get some special treatment because of this connection.<br />
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It was all an elaborate ruse. In reality, Mike and I only knew each other because I called ahead and told him I was going to propose after our jump, and he was helping me orchestrate the whole thing. The story was just a cover to justify seeking him out when we got there. If you're going to make up a cover story, make it as specific as possible. </div>
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The rain was still holding up when we got to <a href="http://www.skydivemidwest.com/" target="_blank">Skydive Midwest</a>. Once we checked in, I left Miss Tires to wander the grounds and I headed over to Mike’s office with my heart pounding. When we spoke over the phone, he recommend I leave the ring in his capable hands. This would guard against losing the ring during the jump. While the suggestion sounded wise, I was a bit reticent about handing the most expensive item I had ever purchased to a stranger. I went through with it anyway, as I trusted Mike, and I knew there was a metaphor about trust in there that worked well with the idea of proposing. It was almost as significant a metaphor as the one about taking a huge leap into the unknown inherent in the dive itself.</div>
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During my meeting with Mike, I learned about a rather unfortunate obstacle. Apparently rain was not much of a threat to skydiving, but the real problem was cloud cover. Jumps occur at an altitude above the clouds, so when clouds are present, there’s a risk one could jump and hit a plane flying below the clouds they didn't know was there. The cloud cover was still present, so all the planes were grounded. Mike assured me that he’d do everything nature would allow to get us up, but of course there were no guarantees. </div>
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With that in mind, I made my way back to Miss Tires and tried to act like everything was fine, even though another layer of nerves had been added to my already jittery mindset. We waited as patiently as we could for the clouds to break up, speculated on the weather with other jumpers and held out hope as we sat.<br />
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There was an event going on that day called Tandem for Troops, a fundraiser hosted by Skydive Midwest. The fundraiser offered some extra activities, including corn hole and a raffle. We tossed some bags and bought some raffle tickets to pass the time. </div>
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After an hour of waiting, a couple associated with the event came up to Miss Tires and me and offered to take us on a tour of the planes. We gladly accepted, and we thoroughly enjoyed learning about the two planes that were being used that day. One of the planes had been used in the Wesley Snipes movie Drop Zone. The couple couldn’t have been nicer, and I was so touched that they’d bring us on this tour, knowing they were aware of our situation. When Miss Tires asked me why they invited us and no one else, I shrugged and said it must have been because of my connection with Mike. </div>
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The tour provided a brief respite from the agony of anticipation, but there was plenty of wait still ahead of us. The sky was thick with clouds, and we became less and less confident that we’d get to jump. I started coming up with contingency plans for the proposal in the event that things didn't work out. After another hour of waiting, I was even more sure it wasn't going to happen. I took a walk around the grounds to call Jon, my best friend and confidant in such matters, and ran some of my contingency plans by him. As I was explaining the alternatives, an announcement came over the loud speaker. They were requesting that Miss Tires and I make our way to the hanger. The jump was on!</div>
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A whole slew of emotions hit me as I met up with Miss Tires. All the while, I was trying to play it cool. Miss Tires wondered out loud why we were the first to go when there were many people there before us waiting to jump. I just shrugged it off and said Mike must’ve pulled some strings.</div>
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We were outfitted with literal jump suits and introduced to our tandem jumpers, our pilot, our camera men, and one other guy whose purpose was unclear to us. Our whole crew boarded Wesley Snipes’ plane, and off we went. </div>
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When we reaches a certain altitude, the random guy in our crew opened the plane door and jumped out. We were caught off guard by this. About a minute later, the jumper radioed up to the plane and shared some data. The remaining crew listened intently and then shared looks of concern, followed by some devilish grins. It turns out the jumper leaped out to gather additional data that would indicate whether we really could make the dive. The result were iffy. They decided to let us jump. </div>
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I went first. As the plane's side door opened, I got a serious lump in my throat, and a simultaneous rush of excitement. I didn’t get much time to process this, as there were only about fifteen seconds between the door opening and my jump. My tandem jumper asked “You ready?” and before I got a chance to answer, he hurled us out of the plane. </div>
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The jump was exhilarating. Free-falling was such an intense rush, and I expressed this by yelling for joy as we descended. The speed of our jump was making ripples in my face, and it was so cool to approach the clouds from above and jump right through them. When the parachute deployed, we began a gentle, scenic float down to the ground. As we approached, the weight of my next act caught up with me. My heart started pounding and my stomach started turning, and not just because of the subtle loops we were doing while we made our way downward. </div>
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I totally botched the landing, and I didn’t care. With one thrill of a lifetime down, I had another one fast approaching. When I received the ring from Mike, my nerves settled for a second, and then shot right back up again. Joy, fear and excitement surged through my entire body as I watched Miss Tires approach from the sky. </div>
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We had a quick moment to celebrate the jump, and just a deep breath later, I launched into the speech I had prepared. I told Miss Tires about how much she meant to me and how much I loved her, and told her I wanted to be with her for the rest of our lives and have babies together. It was a blast to watch her as she figured out what was going on, shrieked, and momentarily went into shock. With that, I got down on one knee, pulled out the ring, and asked for her hand in marriage. </div>
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Thankfully. she accepted. I placed the ring on her finger, and we kissed and embraced. Our crew and the staff cheered, hooted and hollered while we enjoyed our first seconds as an engaged couple. Though I had gone through quite a bit to get back on the ground, I felt as if I was walking on air. We held hands and beamed while we walked back to the hanger. As we did, they announced our engagement over the loud speaker, and the awaiting jumpers cheered for us. It was a truly special moment, and the entire place was feeling the love on our behalf. </div>
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We hung around for another half hour or so, reliving our jumps and accepting congratulations from many strangers. Mike came by to say hello and we came clean to Miss Tires on our elaborate ruse. Shortly thereafter, they announced that they'd be sending up more planes, so we sat and watched as many more divers came down with parachutes deployed. </div>
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The whole experience was touching and unforgettable. I was so thankful to the staff for making our time so special. If you want to go sky diving, I can't recommend Skydive Midwest enough. I bought a few more raffle tickets on my way out to express a tiny sliver of my gratitude. </div>
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With the planes and the jumpers in our rearview, we drove back home ecstatic. We made many phone calls to family and friends and rejoiced all over again, while resisting the temptation to start planning our wedding right then and there. Most importantly, we reiterated our love for each other and vowed to keep the excitement going for the rest of our lives. It’s a promise we have both kept.<br />
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Much to my surprise, our involvement with Skydive Midwest continued. Two days later, I received a phone call from the person in charge of the raffle. Turns out I won the grand prize, a free flight lesson at the <a href="http://www.aerisaviation.com/" target="_blank">Aeris Aviation</a> club, a private hanger adjacent to Skydive Midwest that offered flight lessons and plane rentals.<br />
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It took us almost a year, but in the summer of 2010, we finally cashed in on our winnings. I didn't expect it to be much more of a thrill than driving a car, but boy was I wrong! It was an absolute blast from beginning to end.<br />
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The day started with a tour of the facility, which featured several hangers housing really cool planes, and an adjacent club and bar with huge TVs and comfy leather couches. It got me dreaming about how cool being a member there would be.<br />
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After the tour, we hopped into a small cesna. We were equipped with headphones that would allow us to communicate, and Miss Tires (who would soon be Mrs. Tires, but not yet) took the back seat while the instructor and I took the front.<br />
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I thought my involvement would be minimal, but the instructor encouraged me to stay with him, and as we worked together, the plane took off. He kept reminding me that the plane <i>wanted</i> to fly.<br />
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Once we were airborne, I was invited to fly the plane myself. I had to stay below the level of the clouds because I was a new pilot, but as long as I kept that promise, I was allowed to fly wherever I wanted. Miss Tires took photos as I flew.<br />
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Flying was an absolute thrill, and the scenery below was beautiful. It was easy to see how people could get hooked on flying. The lesson was a full hour long, but I was enjoying myself so much, it felt like it went by in five minutes.<br />
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When it came time to land the plane, Miss Tires held on for dear life. There was no reason to worry. The instructor and I worked together, and we stuck the landing. As we taxied back to the hanger, I had a huge smile on my face. It really was one of the coolest things I had ever done.<br />
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The next summer, Mrs. Tires and I got married on a beach in Mexico. It was a wonderful ceremony that will be covered when this blog eventually goes international. The proposal that got us there was thrilling and memorable, and because of that, Sturtevant, WI will always be a special place for us.<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-1-dells-and-door.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 1: Dells and Door</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-3-milwaukee-and-house-on.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 3: Milwaukee and the House on the Rock</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-5969938077575684902015-08-06T20:12:00.001-07:002015-08-13T19:29:37.672-07:00Wisconsin, Part 1: Dells and Door<div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Wisconsin is a gem of a state for road trips that doesn't get enough play on the travel scene. Living in Chicago has afforded me several trips there over the last twelve years, and each visit has been unique and intriguing. In fact, my time in Wisconsin has been so jam packed with awesomeness that covering it all will take not one, not two, but three blog posts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This entry will deliver a taste of Wisconsin's quirk and charm as we explore Wisconsin Dells and Door County. In <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-2-skydiving-in-sturtevant.html" target="_blank">part 2</a>, we'll take flight and do some extreme sports in Sturtevant, and we'll snag a wife in the process. We’ll get weird at House on the Rock and go to Milwaukee to snarf cheese and brats in <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-3-milwaukee-and-house-on.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a>. Wisconsin, here we come! </span></div>
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Wisconsin Dells</h3>
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My first trip through Wisconsin was during my cross-country road trip with my friend Cein in the summer of 2000. We intended to just pass through the state, but we got sucked in by the many billboards advertising kitsch and adventure in the Wisconsin Dells.<br />
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There were many options for a diversion, including mini-golf, go-karts, amusement parks and novelty shops. We chose Robot World, an attraction we were sure would provide plenty of entertainment. </div>
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Looking back, I can definitively say we could have made a better choice. We thought we would get ironic and fun, but we ended up with ironic and boring. The robots were plastic and cheesy, and while there were other attractions (such as the electric chair simulator shown below), they were juvenile and bland.<br />
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There’s certainly a reason why Robot World is no longer among the many destinations in the Dells. Fortunately we were able to get rid of the bad taste Robot World left in our mouths by stopping at Wisconsin's Largest Cheese Store. Yum!<br />
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I got a second chance to explore the Dells when Mrs. Tires and I visited in the summer of 2007. The memories of that trip are fond, but the photos have been lost to time. Going into that visit, I was much more educated on our many entertainment options, and much more impressed with the region as a result. The area offered a special kind of family-centric fun, as it sported a multitude of amusement parks, dinner shows, water sports, boat tours and other novelty destinations.</div>
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We stayed at the <a href="http://www.baraboohillscampground.com/" target="_blank">Baraboo Hills Campground</a>, which offered adorable, moderately priced cabins with fire pits, which allowed us to sit around the campfire and enjoy some s’mores on more than one occasion. The campground was located at one end of the main drag that went through the heart of the Wisconsin Dells. If we didn’t have our excursions already planned, we could have stirred up all kinds of joy by just cruising the strip.</div>
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As it was, we had an agenda for the weekend that started with a day at an amusement and water park called <a href="https://www.mtolympuspark.com/" target="_blank">Mount Olympus</a>. We chose Mount Olympus over the other theme parks in the region because it featured not only outdoor rides and water slides, but indoor versions of each as well. This came in handy, as after two roller coasters, the skies opened up and it began to pour buckets. As the rain fell, we scampered into the indoor section of the park. The rest of the park joined us. The indoor rides weren’t as impressive as the outdoor ones, but it was better than losing a whole day due to rain.<br />
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The storm lasted a couple of hours, and most of the patrons left the park before it ended. This meant shorter lines for the outdoor rides once we were able to access them again. Mrs. Tires and I went crazy on the roller coasters and rode each one several times.<br />
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After our day at the theme park, a restaurant called <a href="http://www.dellscrabbys.com/crabbys" target="_blank">Crabby's</a> hooked us with an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet and reeled us in by throwing in a pirate show. We should have been more selective. The food was 'meh' at best, and the pirates were animatronic Disney knock-offs that ended up being boring buccaneers. We had a fine time, but I can't recommend Crabby's to others.<br />
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The next day we took in some nature via Devil's Lake State Park. The park centered around the sparkling, picturesque Devil's Lake, and featured simple hiking trails and lovely beaches. It didn't knock our socks off, but it was a great way to experience the Wisconsin wilderness.<br />
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After exploring the park, we hit up <a href="http://www.piratescovewisdells.com/" target="_blank">Pirate's Cove</a> for some mini-golf. Simply put, it was among the best mini-golf courses I've ever played. It had five different courses, each of which featured just the right amount of challenge while being infinitely enjoyable.<br />
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Our final stop that day was the <a href="http://www.piratescovewisdells.com/" target="_blank">Ho-Chunk Casino</a>. We had zero luck there, as we stuck to the slot machines and essentially ended up depositing our cash, pressing a few buttons, losing it all and leaving. At least we got a few laughs out of the casino's name.<br />
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During our final day in the Dells, we rented some kayaks and paddled down Mirror Lake. Other than an awkward moment wherein we got tangled up with some fishing lines, we had a wonderful time. It ended up being one of the best things we did all weekend.<br />
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The Wisconsin Dells offer something for everyone. Most of the action there is geared towards families (I'm looking forward to bringing the little one there someday), but there's fun there for all ages. With so much to do, it's impossible not to have a great time in the Dells.<br />
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Door County</h3>
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Mrs. Tires and I are always on the lookout for a new getaway destination, especially when it's within driving distance of Chicago. Door County fit the bill and then some. Located on a peninsula on the east side of Wisconsin, this charming destination offered lots of character and charm. We made it the destination of our Memorial Day trip in 2008. </div>
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Door County's traditional meal is called a fish boil. There are several restaurants in Door County that offer fish boils, so we went for the one with the latest available reservation. That ended up being the <a href="http://www.whitegullinn.com/" target="_blank">White Gull Inn</a> in Fish Creek. We were pleased with our decision, as the fish boil there was as much a show as it was a delicious meal.<br />
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We arrived at the White Gull Inn just in time to get a spot near the fire pit. Shortly after we sat down, a portly older gentleman named Russ began prepping the cauldron. After filling it with water and dropping large chunks of fresh fish into the pot, Russ lit a fire underneath and tended to it until a bonfire erupted underneath. It was getting chilly when the boil started, so we were glad to be near the fire. As the fish cooked, Russ told us about the rich history of the fish boil, as well as a few details on the preparation and cooking process. The fish were cooked with Wisconsin-grown red potatoes and salt. When the fish were almost done, Russ added a stream of kerosine to the fire, which created an impressive pyre that pushed the fish oil out of the cauldron. </div>
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With that, it was time to eat. As we made our way into the main dining room, we noticed we were the youngest people there by far. Mrs. Tires and I were in our late 20s at the time, and while we were joined by a few people in their 30s and 40s, the majority of the patrons were senior citizens. No bother. Everyone was in a great mood after witnessing the boiling process, and there was a sense that everyone belonged. </div>
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We were served a delicious meal, with the fish and potatoes being the main course. The fish was tasty, but boney. It was a real challenge to eat around the bones, even after we took the waitstaff up on their offer to de-bone the fish for us. Still, the meal was a hit and the experience was wonderful. </div>
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After the meal we headed to our hotel, the <a href="http://www.peninsulaparkview.com/" target="_blank">Peninsula Park-View Resort</a>. It was a gem of a hotel, a charming, family-owned establishment with several adirondack chairs adorning a quaint outdoor community area. The hotel also offered beautiful gardens, a swimming pool, fancy locally-roasted coffee, and free usage of their collection of bikes. What's more, it was located right across the street from Peninsula State Park, one of the top destinations on our list that weekend. </div>
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It was gorgeous the next day, and we were excited to use the hotel's bikes to go for a ride around the park. We borrowed two of their heftiest bikes, which ended up being wimpy beach cruisers. Still, we were all smiles as we entered the park. We had no way of knowing what was waiting for us further down the path. </div>
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The trail in the photo above was the most forgiving we'd encounter all day. As we cruised along, we ventured into the forest. This led us to much more difficult terrain, and soon the path was taking us over rocks, roots, stumps and unwieldy terrain. The bikes could barely handle it, and neither could we. Making matters worse, the forest was infested with mosquitos. This added an extra level of irritation to our already harrowing experience. Occasionally we'd get off our bikes and walk them, but when we did that, we'd get attacked by the mosquitos. When we'd reach our breaking point with the bugs, we'd get back on our bikes and attempt to move forward. This type of progress was difficult and occasionally impossible. The be-eaten-alive-or-die-trying-to-avoid-it routine continued for a good hour or so, and we got more and more upset as we progressed. It reached full-meltdown mode more than once. The ride ended up being a classic misadventure, and one that we would laugh about when the journey was relived as part of our wedding vows. </div>
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Eventually we made it to the end of the trail and wound up on the beach. The shoreline was tranquil and inviting. There were several kayaks for rent there, but we had a kayaking adventure planned for later that day. We sat on the beach and watched the gentle lake waves slowly lap up on the shore as we calmed down after our horrible biking trip. </div>
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We found an alternate route through the park that brought us back to the hotel without navigating any forests. It ended up being a great route, as it brought us by a couple of cool lighthouses. I used to see lighthouses all the time while growing up in New England, but they are understandably pretty rare in the midwest. </div>
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Eventually we made our way back to the hotel. We had a couple of hours to kill before our next adventure, so we spent some time occupying the aforementioned adirondack chairs and chatting with other hotel guests. Once again we felt a bit out of place, as everyone we encountered was significantly older than we were. Nonetheless, we enjoyed our time lounging, and before long, it was time to get going again. After a delicious pizza dinner at a local restaurant and bar, we headed over to <a href="http://www.doorcountykayaktours.com/" target="_blank">Door County Kayak Tours</a>, where we had a reservation for a guided sunset kayaking expedition. </div>
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The tour was great. The water was calm, the weather cooperated, and our tour guide was fantastic. She entertained us with stories about being a kayaking guide, including cluing us in to a ritual she and her fellow guides participated in frequently - naked sunrise yoga. She led our group to a great spot to watch the sunset, and we relaxed and floated as we watched the last signs of daylight disappear over the water.<br />
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As we paddled back, our guide told us her friends were in a band that was playing at a bar that night. This got us excited to hit the town. We didn't get a chance to find out where the band was playing, so we ventured out to find some trouble on our own. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to be had. We poked our heads in a couple of bars, but they were pretty quiet, so we ended up back at the pizza place, where we enjoyed a pitcher of beer before we called it a night. A pattern was emerging in Door County. Though it was a charming place, it was a bit too sleepy for us. </div>
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We went back to the hotel early and raided the communal video collection, settling on Total Recall. I had never seen it before, and it made up for the otherwise dull night. </div>
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The next day we set out to explore more of Door County. Most of the places that drew people to Door County were along one long main drag, so we started at the north end of that road and made our way south, stopping anywhere that caught our eye along the way. There were fruit and vegetable stands, cheese shops, wineries, farms, ice cream parlors and many other establishments, and we stopped at a delightful sampling of them. Door County is known for its cherries, and it offered many different items that used cherries in different ways. There was cherry pie and cherry wine, cherry cheese and of course raw cherries. I am not a huge fan of cherries, but I have to admit these were pretty damn good. We purchased some cherry wine and uncorked it later. It was terrible! </div>
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The most memorable stop we made that day was at a small gift shop called Lakeview Gifts, which advertised clown gifts. I'm obsessed with clown stuff, so this place made for the perfect stop. When we entered the store, we encountered wall-to-wall clown merch. Clown paintings and photos were everywhere we looked, shelves were bursting with clown figurines and mugs, and unmarked boxes containing more clown merch were tucked into every corner. </div>
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As we browsed, Edith Schmidt, the owner of the establishment, came out to greet us. She told us all about how she and her husband were former clowns known as Buddy and Bubbles. As we browsed, she continued to tell us stories from her clowning days, and she gladly shared the history of some of the items that caught my eye. She had many items that would have made great additions to my clown painting collection, but she was asking quite a lot for them. I expressed this, hoping she might come down on her asking price. She didn't, but pointed me to a couple of boxes with assorted clown posters in them, all of which were five dollars each. I started pawing through, and found a piece that stopped me dead in my tracks. I knew from the moment I saw it that I had to have it. It was a clown made entirely of different birds. There was even a key that explained which bird species appeared where. As I admired it, she educated me on the artist, a famous clown painter named Rusty. I confirmed the five dollar price tag and expressed how great of a deal it was, especially because it was signed by Rusty. This caught her off guard. She didn't realize it was autographed. She started backpedaling on the price, saying she should be asking fifty or sixty dollars for it. She went on about this for a while. Finally I decided to give in a little so I could make sure I'd get the piece. I offered her eight dollars. Sold! With that, we said goodbye. Mrs. Tires had to drag me out of there, as I could have perused the store for hours. The clown painting I purchased is still one of my favorite pieces. I had it framed and I display it proudly. Unfortunately, Lakeview Gifts is no longer standing, as Edith Schmidt passed away in 2013. RIP Bubbles!</div>
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We had one more Door County destination on the docket. After dinner, we cruised on over to the <a href="http://www.doorcountydrivein.com/info/index.html" target="_blank">Skyway Drive-In Theater</a>, a fully functioning drive-in movie theater. It featured throwback speakers that hung on poles that were intended to be pulled into the car window to deliver the audio. We were parked next to one of the working ones and tried it out for a while, but eventually we opted to tune into the designated AM radio station for superior sound quality. </div>
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There was a double feature showing that night, Iron Man and Drillbit Taylor. We were only interested in Iron Man, but as it turned out, we did get two shows that night. Twenty minutes into Iron Man, it began to rain. Soon it was pouring like crazy. Thunder and lightning arrived shortly thereafter. For a while this was rather annoying, as even with our wipers at full-tilt, we could hardly see through the windshield. Eventually the rain mellowed out, but the lightning stayed. This ended up enhancing the experience quite a bit, as we enjoyed watching the sky light up while we watched Iron Man fly around the screen. It was a memorable way to see the film, and I think of it every time a new Iron Man movie comes out. </div>
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The next day we said good bye to Door County and headed back to Chicago. On the way back, we worked in a round of mini-golf. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBWjptQY-yksgHrOvxL6iDQ-5wFU_vWKK9It0LVteb-qZzNl5FzCFuC0wyRBAg7lAJJfWVa4ZmB1EN2yXYYxrtie-KhXp_VmaelGg2jYdcmjKnExIjKa55DMjlhVPYWhZZi4cE9-hFS60/s1600/door+-+mini+golf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBWjptQY-yksgHrOvxL6iDQ-5wFU_vWKK9It0LVteb-qZzNl5FzCFuC0wyRBAg7lAJJfWVa4ZmB1EN2yXYYxrtie-KhXp_VmaelGg2jYdcmjKnExIjKa55DMjlhVPYWhZZi4cE9-hFS60/s640/door+-+mini+golf.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Overall I really liked Door County. I stand by the notion that it was rather quiet, but despite that, there was an unlimited amount of charm , and it delivered a few memories that I will take with me forever.<br />
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<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-2-skydiving-in-sturtevant.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 2: Skydiving in Sturtevant</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/08/wisconsin-part-3-milwaukee-and-house-on.html" target="_blank">Wisconsin, Part 3: Milwaukee and the House on the Rock</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-10582041801725127612015-08-03T10:54:00.003-07:002015-08-03T10:54:34.657-07:00New Jersey<div class="p1">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZz7TKtKcL04trOxmgb31VEiKESx8jiUoezuXwLeh3hUt0w8ZMaFq0ao-QQwTtQOkms6jPnzre4ThdwcqCDRUaFbGTu52XsoEIu-4mo8SkT7O4DpGDlqYluteA5nJ2ZycUV39oa09kvCo/s1600/honda_1987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZz7TKtKcL04trOxmgb31VEiKESx8jiUoezuXwLeh3hUt0w8ZMaFq0ao-QQwTtQOkms6jPnzre4ThdwcqCDRUaFbGTu52XsoEIu-4mo8SkT7O4DpGDlqYluteA5nJ2ZycUV39oa09kvCo/s640/honda_1987.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image stolen from the internet</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">To tell the story of New Jersey, first I need to tell the story of the MetaCar.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The MetaCar was the first car I ever purchased. It wasn't the first car I ever owned - that was a beat-up, hand-me-down brown 1985 Toyota Camry with cow seat covers. The Camry car drove its last mile in 1999, and pulled in fifty dollars in trade-in value. Fifty dollars went a long way towards the purchase of the MetaCar, a 1987 Honda Accord hatchback, much like the one pictured above. I met its acquaintance when it came into my dad's car dealership, and for</span> the bargain price of two thousand dollars, it was mine. </div>
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<span class="s1">I LOVED that car. It ran perfectly, had lots of power, and featured headlights that popped up when I started the engine, something I had always wanted. I was also quite proud of the decals I added to the back bumper, including a Dharma Bums bumper sticker and a Gefilte Fish - a tongue-in-cheek Jewish version of the Jesus Fish that was popular at the time.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">My Accord took me on many road trips, including a spring break trip to Montreal. Here are a couple of photos from that trip, the only remaining photos of the MetaCar. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWmvkKXDWwE9ToFMhpNZJ64XK8vjMRco0txbqtRq_DhSo2iZBlfz0nOpxGavUgkmxz17yA2xblhhRFtyiM15ydkE0hNwThlZ1a6MozlxFsIEPtNlJdkc-gspLowj6scRtUj_bKvuIgvE/s1600/metacar+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWmvkKXDWwE9ToFMhpNZJ64XK8vjMRco0txbqtRq_DhSo2iZBlfz0nOpxGavUgkmxz17yA2xblhhRFtyiM15ydkE0hNwThlZ1a6MozlxFsIEPtNlJdkc-gspLowj6scRtUj_bKvuIgvE/s1600/metacar+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LqWjKSAQUUzgIwBypOOc4V4hsNumLfkXlf7ixMKIN7QzS8O8TYqmPZMU2hy648QXWU-mu3n42x2CJJOoUOo62YZrTCEELs7FaVVFhffPjZkG_cYmCKLhtDx6JkI9oVK17slWIhasOhA/s1600/metacar+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LqWjKSAQUUzgIwBypOOc4V4hsNumLfkXlf7ixMKIN7QzS8O8TYqmPZMU2hy648QXWU-mu3n42x2CJJOoUOo62YZrTCEELs7FaVVFhffPjZkG_cYmCKLhtDx6JkI9oVK17slWIhasOhA/s1600/metacar+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">My honors thesis in college was on Metafiction, which refers to literature that is self-aware, often with the author of the book as a central character. The meta concept caught on among my comedy friends, and we mixed the idea in with our comedy on occasion. We were also into naming every little thing back then, so my Accord became known as the MetaCar. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">That brings us to New Jersey. While on winter break in January of 2003, I got a call from my friend Adam. He was heading back to school after working with his dad over break, and his bus home only took him as far as New Jersey. He didn't have a way to get from New Jersey to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/02/massachusetts.html">Massachusetts</a>, so he offered me $50 plus gas money to pick him up. My only responsibility at the time was to complete coursework for my winter class on the history of baseball, so I had the time. I convinced my friend Dan to take the drive with me, and off we went. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">On the way down, the windshield washer fluid sprayer stopped working. The windshield was getting pretty messy, so I purchased a gallon of windshield washer fluid and had Dan poke his head out the passenger window and splash a bunch of it on the windshield when needed. After a thorough splash, Dan mentioned he was bummed because he got fluid on his hands and therefore couldn't eat the sandwich he brought. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">"Eh, it's fine," I told him, "That stuff's mostly water anyway."</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"What? No it's not!" he replied, appalled. "Look, right here," he said, pointing to the back of the bottle. "Warning. Poison. Do not ingest!" </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Good thing he didn't listen to me. I almost poisoned my friend. We continued on down the highway, with Dan's trust in me having taken a significant hit. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">As for the malfunctioning sprayer, I think it was the MetaCar's way of warning me about the troubles ahead.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Eventually we got to New Jersey and picked up Adam and his new bonsai tree. We were close to Drew University, so I called up my friend Hannah, and we headed to her campus for a break from the road. We</span> grabbed some dinner at a greek diner in town, and then began our journey back to school.</div>
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<span class="s1">On the way back, we noticed a lot of construction on the highway exit ramps. The cones that were placed to guide traffic around the construction were all kinds of messed up. The placement didn't make any sense, and they were confusing drivers up and down the highway. We saw several instances wherein people were literally stopping in the middle of the freeway while they attempted to figure out how to navigate the odd configurations. The construction continued into <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/05/new-york.html" target="_blank">New York</a>. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">As we approached White Plains, NY, a long row of red break lights suddenly appeared ahead of me in my lane. I slammed on the breaks as quickly as I could, but it was too late. The MetaCar slammed into the car in front of it. The entire front end scrunched up like an accordion and started smoking, and the engine died. I was stunned.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">As I snapped out of it, I looked around to see if everyone was ok. Fortunately everyone was fine, except for the car and the bonsai tree, which had fallen and lost all of its dirt. I tried to restart the MetaCar so I could drive it off to the side of the road, but it wouldn't respond, and it didn't sound like it was going to start up again anytime soon.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I exited the car to check on the people I hit. They were in a red Saturn, and their car seemed fine, other than a small crack in the bumper. I was afraid they'd been hurt, and I was also afraid they'd be really pissed. Fortunately, not only were they ok, they were very kind. They totally understood the circumstances, explaining they knew it was only a matter of time before the screwy traffic cones caused an accident. After we pushed the MetaCar onto the shoulder, they let us sit in the back of their car so we could be sheltered from the ten degree temperatures while we waited for a tow truck. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Eventually a tow truck came and brought us and the car to the nearest garage. It was past 11:00 PM so the garage was closed, but we were able to drop the car off outside. From there, we froze our butts off as we walked to a nearby diner. Adam and Dan ordered some gravy fries while I called my parents to tell them what happened, and then started calling around for a huge favor - a ride back to campus. It was clear the MetaCar wouldn’t be getting us back home. My</span> girlfriend at the time reluctantly agreed to come get us. </div>
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<span class="s1">Soon after, the diner we were at closed, so we bundled up and hiked to a diner a couple of miles away that was open all night. We got cozy there, as it would be a good three hours before our ride got to us. Adam ordered more gravy fries and taught Dan how to play Keno while I hung my head in sadness and mourned the loss of my beloved car. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">At just past 3:00 AM, my girlfriend and her roommate picked us up. We got back to school at about 6:00 AM and got some much-needed sleep. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">I got a call from the garage a few days later. The car was totaled and would never run again. Apparently the MetaCar's self-awareness was too much and it took it's own life. I was heartbroken. I hadn't just lost a vehicle. I had lost a friend. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">RIP, MetaCar!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-69875724221278042942015-07-30T19:33:00.000-07:002015-07-30T19:58:29.691-07:00Virginia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTppRlfNMoiPonwTe2eRw-v46hQnvgKE9I9f0VXJMz9AO6i9PZckjzvHhAlwQWd4fGp35_YWwlG11HH8HJU-EOOOcqEgck3XRS57s_SN-zB-z0VW17LKzGyvwA_eSFVCu51ijrdJM4I2o/s1600/IMG_0413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTppRlfNMoiPonwTe2eRw-v46hQnvgKE9I9f0VXJMz9AO6i9PZckjzvHhAlwQWd4fGp35_YWwlG11HH8HJU-EOOOcqEgck3XRS57s_SN-zB-z0VW17LKzGyvwA_eSFVCu51ijrdJM4I2o/s1600/IMG_0413.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">A vivd image comes to mind when I think of Virginia. We were on our way to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/05/north-carolina-and-south-carolina.html" target="_blank">North Carolina and South Carolina</a> on a spring break trip in 2001 that would ultimately bring us to <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/07/florida.html" target="_blank">Florida</a>. It's not a particularly remarkable memory, just a simple, peaceful one of driving through a forest of tall, slender trees while the sun shone through, its rays pushing their way into the forest while Dave Matthews Band played on the radio. I always think of Virginia as a beautiful, relaxing and serene state, and this memory perfectly exemplifies the sentiment in my mind. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">My most recent pass through the state provided a quick and delightful addendum to my already high opinion of Virginia. Mrs. Tires and I were driving down the highway from <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/04/washington-dc-part-2-tourist-edition.html">Washington DC</a> to the <a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/tennessee-part-1-great-smoky-mountains.html">Great Smoky Mountains</a> during our great American road trip in the summer of 2012. As we stared out the window and enjoyed Virginia's subtle hills and leafy views, we saw a sign for <a href="http://shenandoahcaverns.com/" target="_blank">Shenandoah Caverns Park</a>. Curious, we pulled off the highway to check it out. While approaching the visitor parking lot, another attraction caught our eye - a replica of the Statue of Liberty. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB4sxiBodAznqMIwLKM8Tl-c_-NlbuYO1XRsZgXe2BwDoXxA6UXmbGZ9fF0OzRBs9uA3Kb0OO2oQUh7LVqAo4KCIDSmYP70N_XF5ts9qTGgb7IiG8GrMqLaDj3KXWVd_yFajcEuq5TjY/s1600/IMG_0409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB4sxiBodAznqMIwLKM8Tl-c_-NlbuYO1XRsZgXe2BwDoXxA6UXmbGZ9fF0OzRBs9uA3Kb0OO2oQUh7LVqAo4KCIDSmYP70N_XF5ts9qTGgb7IiG8GrMqLaDj3KXWVd_yFajcEuq5TjY/s640/IMG_0409.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">The statue was parked in front of a large building, and with our newfound excitement for the bizarre overtaking us, we pulled in there instead. After we parked, we noticed an even more strange and spectacular sight, a giant kootie. You might remember these from the children’s game. This ten-foot high statue brought huge smiles to our unsuspecting faces, so we wandered over there for a closer look and some photos. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofkaXN40Br2nLHKJZ-OaE5d1Jnr8MnfqcKgHJEqyGEPKb4KAxLJ_60EEoCOpDEUYgbgtPUYXDP0j1YavRWBgZalMoqHy3s6eAKBNQuiyU-PVxpGf_pr4pzxYUv89oi8G1jQoKPyABG_8/s1600/IMG_0402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofkaXN40Br2nLHKJZ-OaE5d1Jnr8MnfqcKgHJEqyGEPKb4KAxLJ_60EEoCOpDEUYgbgtPUYXDP0j1YavRWBgZalMoqHy3s6eAKBNQuiyU-PVxpGf_pr4pzxYUv89oi8G1jQoKPyABG_8/s640/IMG_0402.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">There were a few more statues outside. We photographed them mercilessly before heading into the business that hosted these marvels, <a href="http://www.shenandoahcaverns.com/v.php?pg=2">American Celebration on Parade</a>. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Qf2F_XfZg6ym1GRRmGp3IDoOhUnITluKel-IZXGuUz-JgALT5ABCTwjj3QFiUBRQuSGqyd9FNS_zL67HJanCBLGBrJtYRln5ctJtXq1qcJlaXf8u1oqQUh_mChwSV_lWcKm0hth5Z3M/s1600/IMG_2418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Qf2F_XfZg6ym1GRRmGp3IDoOhUnITluKel-IZXGuUz-JgALT5ABCTwjj3QFiUBRQuSGqyd9FNS_zL67HJanCBLGBrJtYRln5ctJtXq1qcJlaXf8u1oqQUh_mChwSV_lWcKm0hth5Z3M/s640/IMG_2418.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">The inside of the building was thoroughly decorated with festive streamers, beads and sparkles which drew us towards a huge, Mardi Gras-style court jester. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFC7t7pQeWbP4y7hReFSFwOfboHA9t7gQBNdD0KRCdpEkRD7onT-rWI2TqpGVJu1CFpB5NWJOSOBOZzR0yr3eit2ggsAkXt7Let58v4iQ7Y878SbHkRvHKGLgVxeOWg9Zd1VsHe6yBwA/s1600/IMG_0430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFC7t7pQeWbP4y7hReFSFwOfboHA9t7gQBNdD0KRCdpEkRD7onT-rWI2TqpGVJu1CFpB5NWJOSOBOZzR0yr3eit2ggsAkXt7Let58v4iQ7Y878SbHkRvHKGLgVxeOWg9Zd1VsHe6yBwA/s640/IMG_0430.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">Enchanted but slightly confused, we approached the counter to inquire about what we'd stumbled upon. Turns out it was a parade float museum. For a fee of twelve dollars per person, we could enter the museum and witness huge floats that were on display in some famous parades. Intrigued but budget conscious, we wavered on whether we'd go in. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">TRAVEL TIP: Not sure if an attraction will be worth the dough? Check out the postcard stand in the gift shop. The postcards will show you the highlights, and you can decide from there whether it will be worth it.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQDqIiSukiY-z5owRWMfLJWtacG44XCjkHa8-LPqpApnnrGo4z8YdFviD8r7FNLVvodRHxtzL35qVKwaCW_oWu-hWQ6mQcNTpf_JurN8NtclsOgv3f500He07ntAfbg8G9EzbSXQ4mAY/s1600/virginia+parade+float.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQDqIiSukiY-z5owRWMfLJWtacG44XCjkHa8-LPqpApnnrGo4z8YdFviD8r7FNLVvodRHxtzL35qVKwaCW_oWu-hWQ6mQcNTpf_JurN8NtclsOgv3f500He07ntAfbg8G9EzbSXQ4mAY/s1600/virginia+parade+float.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the postcard collection</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">I followed my own advice, and we decided to skip the parade floats and save the twenty-four dollars. Our appetite for the bizarre had been satisfied by what we saw for free.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">As we exited, we noticed a strange sight across the street, a cowboy hat-wearing frog looking through a magnifying glass. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CidQPFNJGer0PcY72XEIu8bEKPBgctiXPTYBkYgWYnL2oNLiq9FnAmesD-HjoMijnEbLf_ZcNpkAL0Y7DpsQeS1u9U_XD0wquSv2ISSVVAml432TiUE7wLYQ5Qb9A1Uyc4wDi80T0TM/s1600/IMG_0410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CidQPFNJGer0PcY72XEIu8bEKPBgctiXPTYBkYgWYnL2oNLiq9FnAmesD-HjoMijnEbLf_ZcNpkAL0Y7DpsQeS1u9U_XD0wquSv2ISSVVAml432TiUE7wLYQ5Qb9A1Uyc4wDi80T0TM/s640/IMG_0410.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">Maybe we weren't done with novelties after all. We headed over there and found <a href="http://www.shenandoahcaverns.com/v.php?pg=12">The Yellow Barn</a>, a strange Americana-themed museum. This one was free to enter, and it offered wine tasting and a general store in addition to several odd collections.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWoIUtyv76rHw6M8sudQl6bon4r4onY0gML2evynEwG5MkXQ7xUM6aPSycuTAYTMvWY3jApB7DfQL8rn3NLaEvbvUCA2rfRs3_PHYIBKseLTuMea2xJSyXq7kr0eks-A9EBqig6Kr0mo/s1600/IMG_0416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWoIUtyv76rHw6M8sudQl6bon4r4onY0gML2evynEwG5MkXQ7xUM6aPSycuTAYTMvWY3jApB7DfQL8rn3NLaEvbvUCA2rfRs3_PHYIBKseLTuMea2xJSyXq7kr0eks-A9EBqig6Kr0mo/s640/IMG_0416.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsbX8jo1sdm9EnN23sguVFArB8mWSJWW5C9RaWZ3P85SuKDyoLmP52gucrrmsEiHPoVLWIMTQmMsa06iPg0esEk-1jdcz_-3ILfS66cZLezDusJ2mET1mOLr-WXxkKqHQHiCuTkbH7Lg/s1600/IMG_2425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsbX8jo1sdm9EnN23sguVFArB8mWSJWW5C9RaWZ3P85SuKDyoLmP52gucrrmsEiHPoVLWIMTQmMsa06iPg0esEk-1jdcz_-3ILfS66cZLezDusJ2mET1mOLr-WXxkKqHQHiCuTkbH7Lg/s640/IMG_2425.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">The true highlight of The Yellow Barn was the overhead model train set, which operated on several tracks perched above the wooden support beams of the building. A quarter made the trains run around the track for five minutes. Best quarter I spent all trip. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSLBexukBKsOutNW2LXmnjrcyQspFdK3Ea8zGhTzYw0WWS-ts27pHScAfPglzYX5ZodVvA-leylIFbc1id4EHHr8yQa1pQ1Ay9byEfUdMduL_4uw3GVN0aU-O4ZNi8tPrFE5aJnAZyns/s1600/IMG_2427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSLBexukBKsOutNW2LXmnjrcyQspFdK3Ea8zGhTzYw0WWS-ts27pHScAfPglzYX5ZodVvA-leylIFbc1id4EHHr8yQa1pQ1Ay9byEfUdMduL_4uw3GVN0aU-O4ZNi8tPrFE5aJnAZyns/s640/IMG_2427.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3DU2yDdwe70fd_lZLAJUUBLy711rGSKtamqoGccqx0jWlmireMpue88pG0doC0zq4tNYxsvu4BY40M_egLiS7gqXElVL4dVBuaVrdm5ztF0haIbC1TCEH86TbQl62BHZHix9eAqqlL8/s1600/IMG_0417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3DU2yDdwe70fd_lZLAJUUBLy711rGSKtamqoGccqx0jWlmireMpue88pG0doC0zq4tNYxsvu4BY40M_egLiS7gqXElVL4dVBuaVrdm5ztF0haIbC1TCEH86TbQl62BHZHix9eAqqlL8/s640/IMG_0417.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">The Yellow Barn offered another fun diversion, a petting zoo featuring many roosters and some freaky goats.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUt_1g5JHsAWbD1TjYGnH5Iv7O1nyLfsAup6iy6rtIt6dUKd6w7qQl5jzJCsrtRT8gtx-OvY9LuUq5mHBUnjBZQxUrI16bP2iwfmApVJTVWOepwNAzUXIYcRgnJI7M72QtGfZtzdXOZdA/s1600/IMG_0421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUt_1g5JHsAWbD1TjYGnH5Iv7O1nyLfsAup6iy6rtIt6dUKd6w7qQl5jzJCsrtRT8gtx-OvY9LuUq5mHBUnjBZQxUrI16bP2iwfmApVJTVWOepwNAzUXIYcRgnJI7M72QtGfZtzdXOZdA/s640/IMG_0421.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WWk0cpi7Z1-mwx20Us3TpjAYZgEUtDCLN5Q7tK2NIjKaG246i8g-8bCRHUgNkWX_ZeEtRcTgbcmVdbCfboo9tIpv6aSOFo3qhVe20bZ6gXWZ58n0Ezum6ZeJpIo4GOPzzju9YXkiDac/s1600/IMG_0419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WWk0cpi7Z1-mwx20Us3TpjAYZgEUtDCLN5Q7tK2NIjKaG246i8g-8bCRHUgNkWX_ZeEtRcTgbcmVdbCfboo9tIpv6aSOFo3qhVe20bZ6gXWZ58n0Ezum6ZeJpIo4GOPzzju9YXkiDac/s640/IMG_0419.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">After some petting and more photos, we got back in the car and hit the road again. We ended up skipping the caverns entirely. This unintentionally funny postcard showed us all we'd need to know about what we missed. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_grRBCh8M0_fG46alZTmEZK0xpjuFK1HwY7ICqlP_3Dtc8FtPxn4JbrDqHX6_d0Ag9qn-zh0BUvdUKLSPbJM6ZH8IZ5SbH2cK8zgX0pNzpKa-oY29dJxenW7LLy3ot6rr_fCGxukdS0Y/s1600/caves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_grRBCh8M0_fG46alZTmEZK0xpjuFK1HwY7ICqlP_3Dtc8FtPxn4JbrDqHX6_d0Ag9qn-zh0BUvdUKLSPbJM6ZH8IZ5SbH2cK8zgX0pNzpKa-oY29dJxenW7LLy3ot6rr_fCGxukdS0Y/s1600/caves.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the postcard collection</td></tr>
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<span class="s1">Many more surprises and delights were in store for us on that road trip, but our findings in Virginia will stay with us forever. It was fantastic to randomly stumble upon these roadside treasures. Our encounter made me love Virginia that much more. </span><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2i7kn9rxV_w_ryPp2J9fj6RsiIrAOQLq-OJpryoHucyiiB-rwWQvDueDMAG83aUXzzJt8YYptuuK2N_iCl5AwjIP5YGw5NidzBZE6YIk4r1wK4nKzKrWRvnvgxwIHbmHDHrk_NG_Mlg/s1600/virginia+is+for+lovers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi2i7kn9rxV_w_ryPp2J9fj6RsiIrAOQLq-OJpryoHucyiiB-rwWQvDueDMAG83aUXzzJt8YYptuuK2N_iCl5AwjIP5YGw5NidzBZE6YIk4r1wK4nKzKrWRvnvgxwIHbmHDHrk_NG_Mlg/s1600/virginia+is+for+lovers.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">From the postcard collection</td></tr>
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More on this trip:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/04/washington-dc-part-2-tourist-edition.html">Washington DC, Part 2: Tourist Edition</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/02/maryland.html">Maryland</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/tennessee-part-1-great-smoky-mountains.html">Tennessee, Part 1: Great Smoky Mountains National Park</a><br />
<a href="http://www.fastfoodandworntires.com/2015/01/tennessee-part-2-nashville-memphis.html">Tennessee, Part 2: Nashville and Memphis</a></div>
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Check out <a href="https://twitter.com/search?f=realtime&q=%23raymanroadtrip2k12&src=typd">#raymanroadtrip2k12</a> on Twitter<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09222020072122272682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368601240124786515.post-54077341761894079352015-07-27T21:54:00.000-07:002015-07-28T05:04:13.414-07:00Florida<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYp-7ZncqYxZvFXfCU9N-eqEmnFOFzB3KpXYfcJ3fY6wLAYKbHDbpu4Z6w4vrno_wl_IgwIFJii7NrRuWorVpBqISOGSv2p7E1YPYuoiRb17ZZEddnE8EFciyJ5ZGHCHGhp9dbW88U5iK/s1600/fountain+of+youth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYp-7ZncqYxZvFXfCU9N-eqEmnFOFzB3KpXYfcJ3fY6wLAYKbHDbpu4Z6w4vrno_wl_IgwIFJii7NrRuWorVpBqISOGSv2p7E1YPYuoiRb17ZZEddnE8EFciyJ5ZGHCHGhp9dbW88U5iK/s640/fountain+of+youth.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the Postcard Collection</td></tr>
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When visiting Florida, highs and lows come with the territory. Sunshine, beaches, world-class vacation destinations and unique natural wonders are contrasted by bad traffic, hanging chads, bigotry and crazy people.<br />
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My trips to Florida have been no exception. Vacations in Disney World delivered life long memories, and also the most traumatic hotel experience of my life. A spring break trip in 2001 included a stop at a pristine, postcard-worthy beach that we'd have to risk our lives to fully enjoy, and a trip to a fantastic roadside attraction that was built on a bald-faced lie. My most recent visit with my comedy group Dirty Water involved several exciting spring training games interspersed between performances at the worst venue in our history. So buckle up and hang on tight, we're going on a roller coaster ride down I-95 in Florida.</div>
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<h3>
Orlando
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I was fortunate enough to make several family trips to Disney World when I was growing up, and I cherished every one of them. One of my fondest childhood memories is of a voyage on Disney's Big Red Boat, which involved non-stop fun on a giant cruise ship, including some encounters with Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and company. The cruise was followed by three days in the Disney parks.</div>
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Epcot Center has always been my favorite park. I love Spaceship Earth, the ride within the giant silver golfball that serves as Epcot's anchor. The areas dedicated to various foreign countries are also quite enjoyable, as they offer rides, costumes and cuisine from several world nations without requiring a passport. I hope to return to Epcot someday to drink around the world, a practice accomplished by drinking an adult beverage in each represented country.
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During one of my trips to Epcot, I played a prototype of a futuristic video game. It involved using a controller that replicated a guitar and strumming to the Aerosmith tune represented on screen. Fifteen years later, the game was released to the public. We know it as Guitar Hero. </div>
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Pleasure Island has lived up to its name throughout my life. I have a distinct early childhood memory of whooping it up with my Aunt Betty and Uncle Danny at a can-can club on Pleasure Island when I was six or seven. Aunt Betty's hoots and hollers to the dancers are forever engrained in my memory.<br />
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Pleasure Island also hosted the first improv show I ever saw. I was fascinated by the quick wit and spontaneous humor displayed by the performers, and was so impressed with the scenes and songs they came up with off the cuff that I had to try it myself. Improvisational comedy became one of the great passions of my life, and I’d go on to become an improv comedian on a semi-professional level.
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The bad news about Pleasure Island is that it is closing and the area is being repurposed. Go figure. </div>
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Another early influence on my entertainment career came via a visit to Disney-MGM studios. Though most of my family was ‘meh' on the experience, I absolutely loved it, mostly because I got to participate in the SuperStar Television recreation of Gilligan’s Island. I was cast as the Skipper, which meant going into a real imitation dressing room and then appearing on stage. Disney-MGM is now known as Disney’s Hollywood Studios, but thankfully, SuperStar Television still stands. </div>
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Unfortunately, not all of the memories from my trips to Disney are positive. A spring break road trip in 2001 included a stop at Disney World to visit my friend Mike, who was working as an actor at the park. My poor college student friends and I were in need of a cheap place to stay during that visit, and we found a hotel on the outskirts of Orlando that offered rooms for forty dollars per night. After checking in, my friends Beth and Sean decided to do some floor exercises in the room. The scuzzy floors were already turning their feet black, so they pulled the blanket off one of the beds and laid it down on the ground for protection. Upon doing so, they noticed a small insect scurrying across the blanket. When they looked closer, they saw several more. A close inspection of the bed exposed that it was covered with hundreds of tiny spiders. They freaked out.<br />
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I assured them everything would be ok, and I calmly went to the office to report the infestation. I communicated my friends' concerns to the large Polish man behind the desk. My unconcerned approach to the situation was altered when the man gave me a shocked and concerned look, disappeared for a second, and came back with keys to a new room. "Better switch rooms," he said, "I think they're crabs."<br />
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With that, my attitude flipped upside down, and I freaked out even more than my friends had. We weren't talking the kind of crabs that lived in the ocean here. I ran back to the room and told everyone to grab all of their things, STAT. We packed in a flurry and ran out the door, each of us spazzing out in our own way.<br />
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We settled into an infestation-free room, but none of us slept well. We were so traumatized, we kept ourselves awake by scratching imaginary itches all night.<br />
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There's a bright side to this experience. In the future, no matter how bad a stay may be, it will never be as bad as our crab-infested hotel in Orlando.<br />
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West Palm Beach
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West Palm Beach is gorgeous. My friends Jon, Sean, Beth and I visited during the previously-mentioned spring break trip on 2001, and we were able to squeeze a couple of hours of beach time into our packed road trip schedule. The most memorable moment from the beach was a shark sighting which had everyone scurrying out of the water. At first I didn’t believe the shark was real, so I asked a lifeguard, and he assured me it was legit.<br />
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"Cool!" I exclaimed in reaction.<br />
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"No," he replied sternly, "NOT cool."</div>
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St. Augustine</h3>
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Legend is a funny thing. According to <i>some</i> legends, Ponce De Leon spent his whole life looking for the famed Fountain of Youth. According to a subset of those legends, he made it to Florida during his explorations. And according to an even more obscure collection of those tales, he stumbled upon the Fountain of Youth while kicking it in St. Augustine. This legend upon hearsay upon flat-out lie is the foundation of a delightful and enchanting attraction in St. Augustine called the <a href="http://www.fountainofyouthflorida.com/" target="_blank">Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park</a>. This place is so much fun, it makes visitors forget its total lack of validity.<br />
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My friend Jon and I checked out the park during our spring break trip in 2001, and we got a first-hand look at the river that supposedly contained the Fountain of Youth. The guided tour included a dixie cup full of water from the river. As implied by the postcard at the beginning of this post, the water is supposed to make those who sip from it young forever. So we've got that going for us! It tasted like copper.</div>
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The whole area that surrounded the alleged Fountain of Youth was really cool. It featureed exotic flora and the occasional peacock. We only had time for a quick stroll through the grounds. I'd love to return and explore the park further.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6xOKcygvRAOx5lz31nPRTrBWtRuTrZ244XwN6VWT3j-OdFeIx4IHoviQXhwIx0-CSm3bjz7Expcjg3ty_fAGuejmjFIUymppVDqUGPlZfkDmUT_wKemMUkJZzVCNWjY-gi8hhyphenhyphen7l2M0/s1600/trees+at+the+fountain+of+youth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6xOKcygvRAOx5lz31nPRTrBWtRuTrZ244XwN6VWT3j-OdFeIx4IHoviQXhwIx0-CSm3bjz7Expcjg3ty_fAGuejmjFIUymppVDqUGPlZfkDmUT_wKemMUkJZzVCNWjY-gi8hhyphenhyphen7l2M0/s640/trees+at+the+fountain+of+youth.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></div>
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Some of the exotic plants that appear throughout the park</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uSi1O2MYOXRuj4OZwu0y_J29B5V9M4v11FIFsc5_dCZWNdsB_rMnnODnotlv446EfzsWakG0prEMkDCMkpYGyCRKlT5F-XjwsPIXuQfMkniN2xeOvzzeUDtn1X4U0d_Hweuzg1BtVKs/s1600/peacocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uSi1O2MYOXRuj4OZwu0y_J29B5V9M4v11FIFsc5_dCZWNdsB_rMnnODnotlv446EfzsWakG0prEMkDCMkpYGyCRKlT5F-XjwsPIXuQfMkniN2xeOvzzeUDtn1X4U0d_Hweuzg1BtVKs/s640/peacocks.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peacocks roaming free on the grounds</td></tr>
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<h3>
Fort Myers</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AwjTUqJrbauqkKX-PVk6QgR_ydLWuS4PTDU2fL5TT9XYvqb_CqNNjToPdXj2lxhT3P4VDug5Je_qMXRl2rJ5KKpYiSoldl4gdQL41c2HeX_sr8NNmuVdGL6BdBUKhMOZkvZKR7v4jzY/s1600/city+of+plams+park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AwjTUqJrbauqkKX-PVk6QgR_ydLWuS4PTDU2fL5TT9XYvqb_CqNNjToPdXj2lxhT3P4VDug5Je_qMXRl2rJ5KKpYiSoldl4gdQL41c2HeX_sr8NNmuVdGL6BdBUKhMOZkvZKR7v4jzY/s640/city+of+plams+park.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If I'm going to Fort Myers, it can only be for one thing - Red Sox spring training. The annual kickoff to the baseball season occurs in February and March of every year and involves several exhibition games between major league teams as they prepare for the upcoming season. The games are casual and fun, and the atmosphere is further enhanced by the beautiful weather. The Fort Myers public address announcer loves comparing the day's weather to the concurrent temperature in Boston, with Florida boasting temps in the 70s and 80s while Boston temps are in the 30s and 40s. Players are more accessible to fans during spring training, and can often be spotted signing autographs. One year I witnessed Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz offering their signatures, and the entire stadium seemed to be flocking toward them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJa0aQbsEe0kpz0A0aCiFZDKPl6zoipNbMXY3awBYn_mpSRVqykjduDSxeeeqa-NX5osC525Fs4T3KTv95nDgCP8BoUzZa-gjR4Sz_cKmCsENqqL3vQEdRcJfhY_Q9kG8aT435T6KIs6k/s1600/DW+at+city+of+palms+park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJa0aQbsEe0kpz0A0aCiFZDKPl6zoipNbMXY3awBYn_mpSRVqykjduDSxeeeqa-NX5osC525Fs4T3KTv95nDgCP8BoUzZa-gjR4Sz_cKmCsENqqL3vQEdRcJfhY_Q9kG8aT435T6KIs6k/s640/DW+at+city+of+palms+park.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My Boston-themed improv group Dirty Water attended spring training in 2007. We were performing at the nearby Foxboro Sports Tavern, a Boston-themed sports bar, so we went to the Red Sox spring training games to market our show to Red Sox fans. The games were fantastic, as we witnessed the early version of the team that would go on to win the World Series that year. In an unexpected twist, my friend and fellow troupe member Adam had the credentials to work at the stadium. While we spread the word about our performances, he was working the stands as a beer vendor. This meant we had our own personal beer salesman when it was time for a cold one. </div>
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Unfortunately, the shows at the Foxboro Sports Tavern didn’t go so well. The owner who booked us was really excited to have our show at his bar, but when we arrived, he was nowhere to be found. We were greeted by his evil brother, the co-owner of the establishment. It was clear the evil one wasn’t too keen on us being there, as he was a total dick to us the entire time. Furthermore, the venue was completely unequipped to host a show like ours, and we spent more time working through tech issues than we did entertaining the patrons. As if that wasn't enough, the evil brother tried to terminate our agreement after the first night. It was an ugly and unfortunate experience that left a bad taste in our mouths for years.<br />
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There's lots more to explore in Florida. I'm wondering what highs and lows await me as I check more Florida destinations off my list. Will I be attacked by an alligator when explore the Everglades? Will Miami steal my hard earned money by taxing me like crazy when I visit the publicly funded Marlins Park? Will my skin burn off in the scorching sun in Miami?<br />
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For now, I've got some great memories to hold on to when I think of Florida...even if they're tainted by sharks, lies, ass holes and crabs.</div>
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Must See in Florida: </div>
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<li>Epcot (Orlando)</li>
<li>Disney World (Orlando)</li>
<li>Spring Training (Various locations)</li>
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Check it out: </div>
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<li>Fountain of Youth (St. Augustine)</li>
<li>West Palm Beach</li>
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Skip it: </div>
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<li>Foxboro Sports Tavern (Naples, FL)</li>
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The "Next Time" list: </div>
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<li>Everglades National Park</li>
<li>Miami </li>
<li>Marlins Park (Miami)</li>
<li>Tropicana Field (St. Petersburg)</li>
<li>Jet Blue Park (Fort Myers)</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdCx60Lv3F9DH41L32McWCnd7HzC2EQmMJXKJYyzLent5wpW1yZGBQ88i0YcyhtnQlBV4hXdEe1haJnhxK7un_VK-1xmEftxw7QMh5t9Qn1oTHAaH4ZOjAxBRiZz3M1vYR_gZVD6_x8o/s1600/sean+and+beth+in+line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQdCx60Lv3F9DH41L32McWCnd7HzC2EQmMJXKJYyzLent5wpW1yZGBQ88i0YcyhtnQlBV4hXdEe1haJnhxK7un_VK-1xmEftxw7QMh5t9Qn1oTHAaH4ZOjAxBRiZz3M1vYR_gZVD6_x8o/s640/sean+and+beth+in+line.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One more shot for the road</td></tr>
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