November 8, 2021

August 2021

Life

The last stop of my 2-month excursion in Europe was Paris. It was my first time in the world's most iconic tourist destination. Predictably, I checked off the classic tourist activities: going up the Eiffel tower for unobstructed views of the city, lining up for half an hour to take a subpar photo of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, learning about impressionism at the Musée d'Orsay, and traveling all the way out to see the Palace of Versailles. I walked a lot around the city, eating too many pastries and at a handful of Michelin-starred restaurants that weren't all too memorable. Paris was much more posh and felt less friendly than other places I had been in Europe. The societal class separation was more evident, and I was constantly reminded that I was a tourist and outsider. In the future, I'd consider coming back, but it wouldn't be purely for tourism. In fact, I had completed all the must-see's; when I had an unexpected extra day in Paris after oversleeping and missing my flight back home, I wasn't sure what exactly to do.

Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye in suburban Paris

During my time in Paris, I took an overnight detour to Brussels. I really liked the Atomium, a bizarre futuristic building inspired by its namesake, built for the 1958 World Expo. Since Brussels is the unofficial capital of the EU, the Parliamentarium was an engaging exhibit about the history of the EU, accessible in all 24 languages of its member states. Manneken Pis was a small and fairly unimpressive bronze statue of a boy peeing on an ordinary street corner, and to be honest I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Being in Belgium, I sampled many pralinés (pronounced with 3 syllables in French) at chocalatiers across the city for the best gifts to bring back home.

The Atomium

By the end of my Europe trip, I began to look forward to a change in pace back in the States, specifically a slower one that didn't span 12 hours or involve 25k steps a day. My parents also came from Shanghai to see us. I had been scared that they would become visibly older and more frail since I last saw them a year and a half ago, but it was relieving that it didn't feel that way (yet). The day after arriving back in the States, we hiked up Multnomah falls, the most popular natural recreation site in the Pacific Northwest, and drifted around in a pool on an inflated float that Adeena had bought at a yard-sale for 8 bucks.

We drove up to the Puget Sound and stayed a couple nights on Whidbey island. Whidbey island is a very 平民化 (which roughly translates to commoner, but that gives a wrong connotation) destination; it's a local vacation spot for those who live in the Pacific Northwest. There isn't anything particularly impressive to see or do. The beaches are mostly rocky, and the water is quite tranquil. There is a pre-WWI fort built to fortify the US seacoast that never saw any action, and a fairly scenic bridge at Deception Pass that was half under-construction when we were there. We dug for some clams on the beach, only to find out that they were not edible due to the huge amount of sand in them. Our whole family, who all never cook, appreciated the opportunity from the fully stocked kitchen and lack of restaurants nearby to enthusiastically make dinner every night. It wasn't restaurant quality, but it was a joyful experience.

The days in the Pacific Northwest with my family were less exciting than my time in Europe, but it was just as memorable and valuable. We had a lot of quality family time from otherwise mundane activities like hiking, sitting in the car, or cooking.

Hiking Angel's Landing

We flew down to LA to help Adeena move for college and then drove to Utah to see Zion National Park, a trip that we had originally planned to take after my graduation in May 2020. To avoid the crowds and beat the mid-August heat, I ambitiously convinced my family to wake up at 4:30 AM, but even then many sections on Angel's Landing were still clogged. The hike is supposed to be quite dangerous and daunting for those who fear heights, but the long queues of hikers near the top didn't allow me to fully realize this. It was epic up there though, with a beautiful view of the Zion canyon in the desert.

The next day, I completed The Narrows, the narrowest section of the canyon and one of the most fun and dynamic hikes out there. For the entirety of the trek, you hike up a river with towering sandstone walls on both sides. Navigating the route along the river is a fun challenge, and if you didn't do it right the water could get up to your chest. It's not an easy hike: there were less and less people along the way and by the end only a handful remained. The 9 mile hike took 5 hours to complete, and nobody overtook me. By the next day, my arms were more sore than my legs because I relied on my hiking stick as a third leg to keep balance.

The Narrows

Our trip to Zion was inspired by mother's desire to see these beautifully smooth canyons that have featured on countless WeChat stories and Windows 10 wallpapers (it's also a default mac background, FWIW). However, she was disappointed to learn that Antelope Canyon wasn't actually in Zion, but in Page, AZ, about 3 hours away. So we took an ad-hoc trip out to Page, seeing the Grand Canyon as a detour. The Grand Canyon was vast, but I feel you only truly get to realize the size of the Canyon from below; some day, I'd love to come back and do the overnight hike across the Canyon.

Seeing Antelope Canyon on the other hand felt out of this world. It's so special and feels almost extraterrestrial. It's very aesthetically pleasing from how the light shines into the smooth canyon that I spent the entire tour taking photos. I regret this a bit though, I wish I had spent at least had 5-10 minutes with my camera away just to take it all in with my eyes. We also took a quick stop at the instagrammable Horseshoe Bend.

The American Southwest is awe-inspiring. It's expansive and barren–there were stretches of road that were endlessly straight without another car in sight–yet it was monumental in its land formations with a signature orange-red. To me, it's a must in a 2 week see-it-all US itinerary.

A light halo in the Arizona desert

After Utah, we headed back to LA before returning to Seattle. I spent most of my time unwinding, tagging along for family errands like buying a suitcase for my parents to bring back, or assessing our house for re-painting. I revisited Pike Place with friends who were visiting, and went kayaking on Lake Union. That week was also a great time to catch up on some personal projects: I edited footage from Switzerland, wrote the July newsletter, and retroactively posted reviews on OAD from places I had been to.

On the day my parents left to go back to China, Adeena and I went to Cabo San Lucas for a long weekend right before school began for her. I had been missing Mexico (read: tacos) quite a bit since my month in Mexico City earlier this year. While I enjoyed the trip, I realized that perhaps beach vacations are just not my cup of tea. I also definitely wouldn't make the mistake of visiting the beaches of Mexico in the summer again; it was unbearably hot, sunny, and humid outside, making most of the activities one would do in Cabo almost unenjoyable. We went kayaking in the early morning out to the arch, and had a fairly subpar snorkeling experience in an area nearby oversaturated with tourists. But perhaps as expected, the biggest highlight in Cabo was the food. We had a lot of fried seafood tacos, topped with copious amounts of slaw and salsa.

Kayaking near the Arch in Cabo

Compared to Mexico City, Cabo is very touristy and Americanized. Everyone speaks to you in English, and resorts line the tourist corridor that connects the 2 main coastal cities of San Jose del Cabo and Cabo San Lucas. Prices are often quoted solely in USD, and it's probably closer in price level to the US too. Honestly, being in Cabo felt closer to LA than to CDMX.

After barely avoiding Hurricane Nora, I flew back to the Bay Area to ship all my stuff off to NYC. During that week, I visited campus for the first class of DATA 88E: Economic Models. It was surreal to lecture in front of 100 students after two and a half semesters online, and really felt like a fulfilling way to close my (five-year long) chapter at Cal. I met up with different people for food and boba; some in the south bay, some in the city, and some in Berkeley. I'll probably be back once or twice a year.

Food

Veal bonbons wrapped in watercress at La Condesa

• Fries (Brussels, Belgium): the fries at Fritland are large and irregular in length, but every piece has a perfectly crispy outer skin wrapping a starchy soft inner: the definition of a perfect fry. The smell of fresh fries right out of the fryer evokes something nostalgic.
• Little Red Door (Paris, France): one of the most unique cocktail bars I've been to. Their current menu is a series of contradictory pairings, one side motivated by "what does flavor taste like?" and the other by "what does flavor feel like?". The spicy without chili comes with a ginseng tea that intensifies spice from carolina reaper extract, while the chili without spicy presents the flavor of peppers without any heat. My favorite was probably the sweet without honey, which requires you to first eat a miracle berry, distorting the perception of taste to make sour things taste sweet.
• Buffet at Wynn (Las Vegas, NV): going to a buffet felt like a must when we were passing through Vegas. We opted for a more premium option at the Wynn, but I was a bit disappointed by the quality and options offered. I used to love buffets when I was young, but the dazzle and excitement has now been somewhat lost. Maybe this is a coming of age thing.
• Steak: Adeena frequently made steaks when our family cooked. She's good at both grilling and pan-searing them.
• Manta (Cabo san Lucas, Mexico): created by Enrique Olvera, Manta is a beautiful restaurant by the ocean that focuses on the seafood-based cuisines of the Pacific (think a mix of Mexican, Peruvian, and Japanese). My favorite was the daily catch – a grilled bass topped with a delectable miso sauce, which we made into tacos complete with guacamole, salsas, and peppers.
• Flora (San Jose del Cabo, Mexico): a farm to table restaurant situated right on the farm. The menu featured only classic American dishes, instead focusing on making each dish better from fresher ingredients.
• Killiney Kopitiam (Palo Alto, CA): the first US location of the Singaporean coffeehouse. I love the kaya toast, spread with probably too much better and a sweet and creamy kaya (coconut jam).
• Al's place (San Francisco, CA): to me, Californian food is about fresh local ingredients with culinary influences from the state’s major ethnic groups, and Al’s place executes this well in a casual yet refined setting. The restaurant has a particular focus on vegetables, and the use of nuts was also prevalent in its “family style” tasting menu.

Our last meal as a family in 2021, at Tem Sib Thai Food Reimagined

Misc

René Magritte's Empire of Light, at the Magritte museum in Brussels. I'm a big fan of Magritte's thought-provoking, often paradoxical, style. Here, the painting presents a peaceful night scene at the street level, but also a serene day scene in the sky. Combined, the two otherwise calming settings make the viewer a little uneasy.

The Louvre uses Nintendo 3DS's as audioguides. The two-screen layout is quite useful, and it affords way more functionality than typical audioguide devices.

One struggle I often face is appreciating good food in unfamiliar cuisines. When I visit somewhere with food that I have very limited experience with, I have no established baseline to evaluate how good it is. As a result, my perception becomes distorted by only going to the acclaimed places. I suppose I could go to mediocre restaurants to calibrate, but this feels counterintuitive and the opportunity cost is high.

Lover's and divorce beach in Cabo is quite a bizarre place, like something that could be in a Magritte painting. The side of the beach that touches the bay is known as Lover's Beach, while the other side that sees rougher waves from the Pacific is aptly named Divorce Beach. It's strange because looking at the beach on one side from the sea, you'll the sea on the other side too.

Perhaps somewhat counterintuitively, most ocean advocates believe that buying wild salmon is better for the environment than buying farmed salmon. Farming salmon leads to negative spillovers into the environment, including sea lice and antibiotics.

One thing I did outside of my comfort zone was cliff jumping from Pelican Rock in Cabo. It wasn't too tall, perhaps 5-6 meters, but looking down right before my first time was terrifying. It still felt uneasy even by my third time. I stopped after that; the cost to benefit just wasn't there for me.

While walking around Evans Hall, I bumped into a professor that I had been a TA for this spring semester. He didn't recognize me. I suppose that's what you get with Zoom school.

King county (Seattle area) has 6 types of public transit systems: light rail, bus, commuter rail, ferry, streetcar, and monorail. The monorail was built for the world expo, and only runs between the Space Needle and Downtown Seattle. All forms of transport accept the ORCA (One Region Card for All) card.

A first lesson in Econometrics. Despite this being satire, it's a bit too familiar.

Aesop's Resurrection hand wash is special. They say that scent is the most primal and mysterious sense; its fragrance stood out to me in an ineffable way the first time I used it in Paris. The soap consists of orange, rosemary, and cedar, but they come together to form something more than the sum of its parts.

One of the coolest sunsets I've experienced in Mukilteo, WA. No filter.

Pro tip: visit Antelope Canyon around noon. The sun will shine into the canyon to create beautiful beams.

Time zones in Arizona are confusing. Although Arizona is in the Mountain time zone, it does not follow daylight savings time. However, the Navajo Nation (mostly within Arizona) follows daylight savings time. The day we drove from Utah to Page, we switched our clocks back when we entered Arizona, forward when we entered reservation land, then back again when we got to Page. There was some cognitive dissonance flipping clocks repeatedly without seeing any change in the environment. It was also quite confusing: my phone's time was automatically and erroneously set an hour ahead of the local time while in Page.

I was lucky when I visited Paris; had I been there a week later, virtually everything would've been closed. It's common for businesses in France to take a 2-3 week vacation in August – the country goes on vacation. That's sort of unthinkable for one of the most popular tourist destinations during one of the most popular months for tourism. Some things are more important than money, I guess.

Throwing rocks at Whidbey island