Flying with a one year old

I was afraid of the four flights that made up our holiday itinerary. In the end, the travel wasn’t easy, but neither was it horrible. Here are some ideas I collected and tips I learned.

• If at all possible, travel with someone else. Having my husband there made it very manageable, if at times challenging. Doing it alone would have been exhausting.


• Pack a lot of diapers, drinks (milk) and snacks. Those are things you don’t want to run out of. If using cloth diapers, airport travel might be a good time to make a disposable exception, unless you have extra room for soiled diapers in your carry on.


• Taking a carseat is a pain that is best avoided. However, if you must take one, as we needed to, it has a few benefits. One, if you can get an open seat on the plane, it’s easier to strap baby into a carseat with hopes that he’ll stay there than it is to strap her into an airline seat. You might get more hands-free time on the plane. Two, the Go-go kidz travel device is really as cool as I’d heard. It converts a carseat into a rolling piece of luggage, basically like a stroller. It’s lightweight and easy to roll through the airport and River was quite content being pulled in it. When you have to board shuttle buses and the like, you don’t have to disassemble a stroller, but instead just push down the handle, pick up the child in the carseat and carry it on board.


• Waiting areas offer great entertainment. The space and the interesting people around were enough to captivate River for a long term, with little need for extra toys. Another benefit of traveling with another adult is that one adult can sit with the luggage while the second follows the child’s wanderings.


• Do whatever you need to do to get that open seat available on the flight for baby. Two adults plus baby plus stranger in a row of three narrow seats = hell. Avoid it however possible. Also keep in mind that carseats generally are only allowed to be put in window seats.


• To increase the odds of getting an extra seat, head for the back. If traveling with another, book a window and an aisle in a row of three and leave the middle open. Someone stuck in the middle is generally willing to trade. If you feel annoyed by the extra time or hassle it takes to head back and to get off last, remember that the survival rates in crashes are highest in back.


• Try to board when they offer boarding to people who need special assistance if you feel you need it. If you don’t, board last and let baby run around as long as possible before having to be constrained.

Sendero de los Quetzales

Yesterday I took a long hike through the cloudforest, a 12-kilometer mostly uphill trek between Boquete and Cerro Punta. The Sendero de los Quetzales, or Quetzal Trail, was the first trail made by the indigenous inhabitants of this region and was used to facilitate trade between these two towns. It runs along one side of the Baru volcano (the only active volcano out of 64 in Panama – one of its three craters is active). It’s also supposed to be a place where one has a good chance of seeing the quetzal bird. According to our guide Alvaro, this bird is one of the most beautiful in the world.

The area was beautiful, with all kinds of mushrooms, ferns, plants and flowers growing alongside the trail. The thick forest surrounded us with vines, ferns and trees, some new growth, others remants from the primal forest. As we walked, the sound of various bird calls rang through the silence and we breathed in the scent of decomposition and fresh moss.

I’m sure the forest contained all kinds of treasures. Most unfortunately, our guide didn’t seem to be familiar with them at all. He clearly wasn’t an avid birder and didn’t even know how to use the binoculars someone lent him. So while he pointed out a few things to us, I know we passed by a lot of the forest’s secrets. And we didn’t see a quetzal, though we heard their calls.

I think such hikes are best done with an indigenous person, or at least someone who lives near to the forest. Those people are more likely to rely upon nature and to be familiar with its intricacies. We passed several men along the way who were carrying homemade bamboo poles (probably taken from the forest) and were on their way to fish. I’m sure they lived in harmony with the environment. When I asked if they’d seen any quetzals along the way, they said yes, four. I wished the tour organizers would have hired one of them instead of the relatively well-to-do town dweller who was our guide.

The trail was fairly difficult. Much of it was uphill. And while there were stairs in some places, they weren’t in very good conditions. Some had rotted out, requiring large steps upward. That, plus the gain in elevation, eventually became very tiring. Just as we reached the halfway point, at 2200 meters, I began to wheeze.

Luckily, some rest, some juice, and the guide slowing down the pace helped. I felt a light pounding in my head, which I associate with altitude, but it wasn’t too bad and felt better during the rest of the way.

A beautiful view greeted us at the end – bushes flush with white flowers with purple-shaded centers, which Alvaro said were called novios (or couples). Their scent perfumed the air. Up upon a hill stood a statue of a virgin. And we could look out over the agricultural valley and down into the town of Cerro Punta.

The start of the hike wasn’t too far from Boquete. And we only hiked 12 kilometers. So both the other woman on the tour and I were surprised when the return trip was well over an hour, through the town of David. Apparently, because of the national park, there is no direct road. The need for the trail to facilitate trade became much more apparent.

Coming down from the mountain, we passed a bunch of stands selling strawberries, which grow here year round. I bought a dish of strawberries with cream (a very sweet sticky cream) for a dollars, as well as strawberry bread, homemade granola, and from a neighboring vegetable stand, plump orange carrots and top-like magenta beets. They were also selling a variety of fresh honey and jams made from the various local fruits, including tomatoes.

I was so exhausted in the evening, both from the hike and from the fact that River has been waking up repeatedly at night that I didn’t do much besides care for River, go to bed, then get up throughout the night to feed him. The family took care of him while I was gone. When I returned, he was grinning and they were enchanted with him. They are babysitting today as well, for the first time giving me the chance to get some work done and stroll through the town.

Boquete

We’ve arrived in Boquete and so far it seems to be as wonderful as it seemed to be from my research. Yesterday was a long day. Our scheduled flight had maintenance problems, so we had to wait another five hours until they could bring another plane. That basically meant spending the entire day at the airport, which was hard on poor River, and hard for me too since I had to occupy all my time caring for him.

The airport at David was tiny and entry easy. We purchased tourist cards right there for $5 each. Behind the immigration officials hung a poster with a man jumping off of a train. A sign nearby said “Border 10 kms.” A man in a wheelchair, missing both of his lower legs, was pictured in the bottom right. The poster said that it’s not worth it, the cost can be higher than one expects.

The school where I am studying in Boquete, Habla Ya, arranged for a taxi to meet us at the airport and it was there as scheduled. He took us right to our host family’s home. It was already dark, so I couldn’t see much during the 45 minute drive. I did notice however the excellent condition of the roads, the $4.40 per gallon price of gas, and the presence of many American businesses in David, including Blockbuster Video, TGI Fridays, McDonalds and Pizza Hut.

It was almost 8 p.m. when we arrived at the home of Lorena and Ronaldo, but they welcomed us in warmly. River made the same impression he’s made on everyone here. They call him a doll and frequently ask to hold him. People will stop on the street and comment on how cute he is, sales staff will congregate around us, and the staff at our hotel in San Jose took turns – first the cook took him for a walk, then the receptionists continued their work while holding River.

Lorena introduced me to her son Ronaldo and her grandson Ronaldo. That makes it easy to remember. Her daughter Magdalena lives and works in David. She’ll be on vacation this week and will be coming here tomorrow.

The house is neat and comfortable. There are little houses hanging on the wall in the hallway, butterflies hanging on the walls around the dining area, and little plastic flowers safety pinned to the sheer curtain in our bedroom. Our bed faces a cabinet stuffed to the brim with stuffed animals. It’s a one story house with a TV room, a living room, a kitchen and a dining area, going from front to back. Doors along the sides lead to one bathroom and four bedrooms.

It seemed hot to me when we arrived and at first I worried about the lack of a fan. But the night air soon cooled and we slept with a blanket.

River was in rough shape from the long trip and for the first time I wondered whether I was harming him by exposing him to so much travel and activity. I tried to eat the meal Lorena left for me – chicken, mashed potatoes and a beef soup, but River became anxious at the sight of food. When I offered him a bite of the soup he smiled and slurped down quite a bit more.

In the morning, after breakfast, Lorena took me in their silver SUV to visit the director of the school. I confirmed when my classes would be and learned about the various activities offered. We continued on to a neighboring town up the hill, called Las Naranjas or “the oranges.” There we paid a short visit to her parents. The 74-year-old mother and 90-year-old father had raised four children in the same house where they now live.

The town is beautiful. Just outside the door of our house is a gorgeous panorama of dense, green, tropical forested mountains. There are many rivers and creeks running through the landscape. There seems to be a nice selection of shops and places to eat, as well as gardens and coffee plantations. I hope I’ll have time to explore it all. But to be honest, there seems to be so much to do and so little time. I’d imagined having time to relax and to get some work done, but I doubt I’ll be able to resist all the temptations to explore.

In the late afternoon we drove with Lorena, Ronaldo and Lorena’s mother back to David, where we were going to watch their daughter Magdalena perform in a folklore dance group. Magdalena danced as a child, but took it up again only this past October.

The performance started at 3, so I thought we’d leave around two. But instead we departed at 10:45. We first went to Magdalena’s house, a small but pleasant house that belonged to her grandmother. Magdalena was still at work, but her parents had keys and let themselves in.

It’s amazing the difference that a 45 minute drive can make. While Boquete is cool and comfortable, the sun emitting a pleasant warmth, the lower altitude David is swelteringly hot year round. It was the type of heat that makes you feel naked because your clothes stick to you as though they were just another layer of skin. Poor River was suffering. Even though they put two fans in the room where he would take a nap, it took me most of our time there to put him down.

Magdalena came home from work and she looked like the photos Lorena displays on her table – a pretty woman in her 20s with heavy makeup, a bright smile and a long, narrow nose. Her attention to appearance makes her look a bit like a doll, which is funny because so many people refer to River as a doll and she’ll be helping to care for him.

From her house, we went to someone else’s house where the group was preparing. Today they were wearing one of their more basic costumes, not the “deluxe” one, but it still seemed pretty elaborate to me. The girls attached long braids to their hair, they all wore heavy makeup and white ornamental pieces on either side of their hair. They wore white shirts and each woman had a long, colorful skirt. When they held their arms out to either side the skirt rose, looking like a fan. The men wore black pants and matching button, down shirts.

This house had a tree in front, which made it much cooler and more comfortable than Magdalena’s. We sat on the patio and watched them practice. When we’d arrived, the musicians in the group were practicing their music, imbuing the air with a festive spirit

I didn’t realize until we got there that the performance was going to be at a political rally, but that made it all the more interesting. The rally was for candidate Juan Carlos Navarro. The elections aren’t until 2009, but the contest is apparently already underway. Lorena told me there are a lot of candidates. She said she thinks this one is the best though and thinks he has a good chance.

I asked what she liked about him and she said he was well prepared because had studied at Harvard. I asked what he believed in, what he proposed to do. She wasn’t very precise, but said that he would continue the policies of the current President, who had helped the poor people with housing.

At the rally, quite a few people wore red, white and blue shirts. A group of youth waved matching flags and posters were hung along the faces. A promoter with a big white smile kept things going. When a woman pictured on the poster with Navarro (she wants to be the representative from this region) appeared and a video camera taped, the promoter indicated (out of sight of the video camera) for everyone to stand up and clap.

They started out with two teenage boys and one girl, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, doing very mediocre pop dances. Someone handed out free juice drink boxes to the people in the audience, who were seated under an awning to escape the drizzle. Then the folkloric group came on and they did a good job. But a young man with jeans falling down below his underwear stole the attention of much of the audience by dancing while he waved the Navarro flag.

River watched, especially entranced by the colorful skirts of the folkloric dancers. He and I were the only gringos in the audience. Our strange appearance probably augmented in oddity when I breastfed him. But it was an interesting slice of local life that I was grateful to witness. And it inspired me to look up what’s going on in Panamanian politics.

Loop on the Tour Bus

I spent today seeing some of Costa Rica by bus. Not my favorite way to travel, but it was better than the other option I was considering – hanging out in the hotel for the day.

The tour bus picked us up at our hotel, took us around and returned us back to the hotel. With one exception, most of the meals and the opportunities to buy things were at large developments, owned by people who already have a lot of money. Only the final stop, a small shop at the end of a boat ride, was owned by locals. I bought my water there. We’ll be leaving for Panama tomorrow and never walked outside of our hotel (not much reason to, it’s just a freeway outside) or changed any money. Dollars are accepted easily here.

We traveled with a group of about 20 tourists, all of whom were picked up from their hotels on the outskirts of the city. Several were attending an epidemiological conference. Quite a few were taking several of these day trips. Despite having quite a bit of time in country, they preferred to see things from the comfort of a bus, then return to a comfortable hotel in San Jose than to spend more time in other areas of the country. I suppose one can see more that way, but I think the level of understanding is less. I wished for the opportunity to talk to the local residents and thought if I had more time, I’d head right for a small town.

We saw a nice variety of things – a coffee estate, a wildlife and waterfall garden, the Poas volcano crater and a boat ride down the Sarapiqui river. My favorite part was the volcano. The crater was one mile wide, with a lagoon within it and white smoke emerging from fumaroles. It was raining when we arrived and we had to walk ten minutes in the rain to arrive. I was carrying River in a front carrier and using an umbrella. I couldn’t believe how well he held up, even laughing when we arrived.

The La Paz Waterfall Garden is a man-man tourism center, constructed by its very wealthy owner. It is well designed though and offers visitors the opportunity to see many birds, butterflies, snakes, monkeys and frogs at very close range. It’s a very good place for families to visit.

They told us when we entered that we should remove any earrings. One woman in our group didn’t listen though and a bird grabbed her earring right out of her ear, then returned to its post to eat it. Even River, at six months old, seemed to enjoy the indoor butterfly sanctuary, with the colorful creatures flying in front of him, and the area where the hummingbirds gathered at feeders, darting around us like little high-powered bees.

The series of waterfalls are of courser natural. The owner purchased the land and made it into a private reserve. He also constructed a series of walkways and stairs (1600 of them, mostly heading downhill) that make it easy to descend the series of waterfalls and get very close to the powerful sprays.

The river trip was short, but relaxing and full of wildlife, In and near the olive-colored water we saw an iguana in a treetop, monkeys, a caiman, an aninga bird, and long nosed bats, small bats that look like butterflies or moths and perch upon wood and rocks on the river’s edge.

River was amazingly well behaved and captured the hearts of many on the bus. They couldn’t believe how happy and content he was and seemed amazed when I said he was usually like that. I said we lucked out that he was born that way; But a woman from Spain, upon seeing me changing him on a stone table and River laying calmly on the hard surface, thought the way the parents acted had some effect. “A lot of people wouldn’t even come on a trip like this,” she said, “because they think they need so much stuff or that their child must eat or sleep at certain times. You seem to have gotten him used to adapting.” Maybe, or maybe he was just born a great traveler. In any case, I’m proud of him and grateful to have a companion.

We didn’t bring a stroller on this trip, since I could only carry so much on my own. Without a stroller, swing, jumper or bouncy seat, I’m holding or carrying him the vast majority of the day. That can get tiring, however, the Ergo baby carrier is working very well.. River is content in there and it’s quite comfortable for me and leaves me with two hands free.

Arrival in San Jose

River and I made it to San Jose today. It was a long day, starting with a 2:40 a..m. wake up call. It didn’t help that I’d gone to bed after one, giving me about an hour of sleep to go on.

We flew on Delta via Atlanta. The flight was scrunched as usual nowadays, no pillow, a charge to see documentaries on the personal video screen. But the service seemed pretty friendly and enthusiastic compared to what I usually experience on U.S. airlines. It was my first time flying Delta and I would use them again.

Upon landing, I could see the greenness of the area around San Jose, the many trees and the white and red brick structures. The modern airport was easy to navigate. I enjoyed seeing a man playing a guitar in the gate area, collecting tips and selling his CDs, and seeing another man rolling cigars for sale. When an airport worker saw me coming, carrying River on my chest, he told me I could go through the immigration line for Costa Rican nationals, since it was much shorter.

There is an official taxi stand right out front. I paid at the counter and didn’t have to worry about coming across a crooked driver. Our driver was a very nice man. He has a 12 year old and a one year old son, so he was interested in River. His son was named Nikolas, after family members who married Russians and ended up staying there.

As he drove us to our hotel, rain loomed on the horizon. He said it’s now the rainy season and afternoon rains will continue through October. We made it to the hotel just before it started to pour.

We’re staying at The Adventure Inn, a place I came across on TripAdvisor. I wasn’t enthralled with what I’d read about San Jose. It sounded like a place where one always has to look over their shoulder and the descriptions brought back memories of my bad experience in Nicaragua. The Adventure Inn sounded good because it was outside of the city center, has a Jacuzzi on the premises and tour buses stop by daily to take people outside the city, to see the sights of Costa Rica. While I’m not a tour bus person by nature, on my first trip overseas alone with baby, I thought I should take extra precautions. I’d want my husband to do the same.

When we arrived at our room I could hear the beautiful sound of the rain pounding on the roof above us. River behaved remarkably well on the trip, but we’d been on the road 12 hours and were both tired. So we spent the afternoon sleeping.

Afternoon stretched into evening for him and he’s still asleep, while I sit out on the patio outside our room and work on the computer. I had a simple, but tasty Tican meal of grilled chicken with rice, beans, fried plantains and salad. The night air is cool and comfortable. I look out at trees and expensive residences. I can hear the chirp of insects and the alternating barks of two dogs.

I signed us up for a day trip tomorrow, a four in one tour that takes in coffee production, butterflies, a volcano and a river wildlife boat ride. Without a swing, a bouncy seat or a jumper, I’m really unable to put River down except when he is sleeping. As long as I have to have him in my arms all day, we might as well be on the move and seeing something. For me, that’s the best possible combination. I get to enjoy quality time with him and be learning and exploring myself.

Two Days in San Francisco

On our first day in San Francisco, I took River out for the morning. We walked from our hotel (La Luna Inn, a comfortable and good value place, with easy access to public transport) about a mile down Lombard street, to the cable car stop.

On the way we had lunch at an organic café called Lettus. I overheard one patron say that people come from all over to eat at this café. I thought it was amazing, both healthy and delicious. As I enjoyed my grilled chicken sandwich on a wheat bun, mixed greens with champagne vinaigrette and a mango smoothie, I wished I had more time in San Francisco so that I could sample more of the wide culinary smorgasbord.

While eating, I struck up a conversation with the man next to me. Originally from Germany, he’d owned a bicycle shop in the neighborhood in the 1970’s. He now lives across the bay, where he says it is warmer and a bit cheaper. It surprised me how easy it was to converse with a stranger over lunch and I wished that happened more often out east. I enjoyed listening to his take on life in San Francisco.

After lunch, River and I continued on toward the cable car. A stroller is a handy thing, I learned, when there are two adults available to help out, but it is not an easy thing to handle alone. On the way, River became hungry and upset. I didn’t see any cafes in the area, so I stopped in a hotel lobby to feed him and luckily, no one kicked us out. When he finished, we continued on, and we walked up a very steep hill for about three blocks. It was so steep I feared letting go of the stroller. If I did, it would roll at high speed back down the hill and zip into oncoming traffic. So I held on tight and walked slowly. We reached the top, at the intersection of Hyde and Lombard streets. There began what is called the world’s crookedest street,” a downhill street that curves back and forth without any clear reason. From such a high vantage point there were beautiful views of the bay, of the city, and of the streetcars puffing up the hill.

Our plan was to catch the streetcar and travel on it across town, then continue on to the café where I planned to meet a friend. Only upon seeing several full streetcars approach and leave did I realize it was very unlikely that I’d be able to lift River, the stroller, my backpack, and the carrier onto the streetcar, find a seat and be able to buy a ticket, especially since one had to ascend steps to get on. I was going to try until River started crying again. Then I knew it was impossible. I’d become what I’d swore I’d never be – the person who carries too much baby junk around. I had so much it made me immobile and I learned my lesson.

Unable to get on the cable car, we headed back down hill to go to the nearest bus stop. This hill was equally steep, at least a 60 degree angle. But this time it was downhill, which was even harder. Should the weight of the stroller pull me forward too fall, I could lose my grip and the stroller would roll. I could see the busy street a few blocks down where the runaway stroller would crash into oncoming traffic. I wasn’t reassured to see a sign for parked cars that read “Prevent Runaways.” It told drivers to turn their wheels in and use the emergency brake.

I hung on for life and moved with baby steps, my quads bent and flexed as though I was skiing. We made it safely to the bottom and I managed to lift the stroller onto the bus.

“You have to take the stroller apart,” the driver told me when I boarded.

“OK,” I said. “I’ll do it as soon as I sit down.”

I plopped down somewhere near the front, next to a woman with silver hair. She was intrigued by the little hands she could see moving under the sunshade and began to ask about River. When I started to take the stroller apart, she told me not to.

“You’ll have two things to carry then,” she said.

“But the bus driver doesn’t like it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “There is a lot of tension right now between the drivers and the public. There have been a lot of complaints about poor customer services. There are even videos of drivers closing doors on people and racking up all kinds of violations. But because they have a very strong union, they haven’t been able to get rid of anyone yet. But now, with all the pressure, the drivers are on edge. So just tell him you are doing your best,” she said.

I appreciated her friendliness and her support. She went on to tell me about her life in San Francisco. That was the second stranger to have an extended conversation with me in just the few hours I’d been out in the city. I liked the openness and friendliness very much. However, for us at least, it seems more like a nice place to visit than a place to consider living, due to the high cost of real estate and what people said were not very good public schools.

After meeting a friend for coffee, where we learned more about the local lifestyle, we had dinner at a fancy restaurant on the Fisherman’s Wharf, where we had tender sea bass fresh from the ocean.

On our second day, I decided to take a walking tour of Chinatown. My tour guide lived in Chinatown for 22 years, so she was able to offer a personal perspective that helped convey what the local life and culture were like. With River strapped to my chest, I walked through alleyways, into shops and temples and down streets packed with Chinese immigrants, a small little world onto itself.

Kitsap Peninsula and Bainbridge Island

Curious to see the nature that surrounds Seattle, today we took a trip to the outskirts, to Kitsap Peninsula and to Bainbridge Island. We drove south, past Tacoma, and then onto the Kitsap Peninsula. Several trucks passed us, laden with giant reddish-brown tree trunks stacked in the long cab. We hadn’t gone more than 15 minutes outside of the city when a spooky and romantic mist covered the land, the trees grew thick and the ground was covered in dense and bright greenery – moss, ferns and undergrowth. We’d see much of that throughout the day, trees that grew in spindly shapes covered with moss, forests so green and thick they looked like rainforests. And of course there were the beautiful and frequent views of water – of bays, estuaries, inlets, harbors.

We stopped for lunch in the little town of Poulsbo. It’s nicknamed “Little Norway” for it’s resemblance to the Norwegian fjords. It also had a Sons of Norway clubhouse along the waterfront, Scandinavian shops and streets with names like King Olav 5thVei and NE Jacobson Road W.

We stopped for lunch in a wonderful little café, Magnolia, where we had a view of the fireplace. I enjoyed a fantastic salad, with spinach, sweet potatoes, goat cheese, candied walnuts and dried cranberries. As with many of the restaurants here, the menu is not fixed in stone. It changes based upon the ingredients that are fresh and available.

We saw many homes today in beautiful locations, overlooking calm blue waters, surrounded by dense green forest or privy to both foliage and water views. I think it would be a nice place to have a cabin. But it was hard to imagine living in a place like that. I’m too used to being able to walk to the local shops. It’s hard to imagine getting into a car anytime I’d need something.

We tried to visit some museums, including a Native American museum. They were closed due to President’s Day. But cars filled the parking lot and garage of the nearby casino.

We visited the tiny Fay Bainbridge State Park, where we scampered over pale draftwood and walked along the black sand and pebble beach, looking at the crab and scallop shells that lined the shore. I learned that the Puget Sound has the largest octopuses in the world, as well as the biggest and fastest sea stars. We looked out across the water at Seattle, a beautiful city view framed by a full moon overhead and a sky turning pink.

Poor little River had a tough day. Every time he’d fall asleep, we’d be on the move again. So we returned home by ferry in the early evening, enjoying the view of the sun setting over Seattle. Back at our hotel, River could get some interrupted rest, as could we.

Except for the fabulous lunch, I wasn’t wowed by anything I saw today. But it was pleasant and beautiful. I liked how the water and forests and the Scandanavian people reminded me of Minnesota. I appreciated the bounty of the vegetation and the fresh and delicious food of this region.

Looking at a map, Seattle is surrounded by greenery to explore – Vancouver to the north, the Cascade mountains, numerous islands and waterways, Mt. Rainier to the southeast. It would definitely be nice to come back with more time for outdoor adventures.

Arrival in Seattle

We arrived in Seattle late last night after a pleasant direct flight on Continental. The middle seat in between us was open, so we were able to put River’s carseat there and had sufficient room.

Our first stop was the rental car agency. They wanted to upgrade us to a minivan or SUV. Initially I wasn’t interested, but then we figured that the four wheel drive would be useful on the mountain roads. I’m trying to think of that to ameliorate my guilt at using such a low mileage vehicle on the city and coastal roads. It’s very spacious though, which will be comfortable for us during our two week trip down to San Francisco.

We used Mark’s new GPS to get from the airport to our hotel and it took us reliably there. We drive right through the city, a beautiful glomeration of yellow lights with a bright blue dome and flashes of red and green. It looked to me like a toy city, or a cake topping. I thought it was beautiful.

The freeway was a dull grey four-laner, but the rises and falls were surprising to me. I guess I’ve never been in a mountainous highly developed city. That reminded me of the new landscape to explore and made me excited about the adventures to come in the upcoming days and weeks.

Our hotel, the University Motel, is located near the University of Washington, in a neighborhood that seemed a little sketchy at night. Our room brings back college days, ancient furniture, flimsy cabinets, cheap construction. But it’s a suite, with plenty of space (and 3 beds, as well as a kitchen) so it meets our needs well.

The Berkshires

We took our first trip with three-week old River over New Year’s. Before the birth, we’d been contemplating a trip to a Vermont cabin. More experienced friends recommended we choose a place closer by, within a four-hour radius. I think that was good advice and I’m glad we followed it.

River did a great job in the car, at restaurants, and at the museums, generally sleeping whenever we were out and about. So that gave us more confidence about the three-week upcoming trip we are planning.

We based ourselves in the town of Lenox. The area was rather hoity-toity and expensive, not my usual getaway type of place. But I was so eager for a change of scenery I would have gone almost anywhere.