Conversation with a conductor

(of the train kind, not the musical kind)

So, I'm en route from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe via train and bus. This was not the plan - but neither was getting stuck at Dulles all day yesterday. And it is very nice to be going up during the day when I can see the very pleasant countryside.

I got chatting to the train conductor as we left Oakland station. He asked me if I was going up to Tahoe to ski or to gamble.

Me: "I didn't know gambling was even a thing up there."
Conductor: "You know Tahoe is in Nevada, right?"
Me: "Oh yeah, I get it. But I don't think I'll be gambling."
Conductor: "Oh I bet your friends will want to gamble. Anyway, you don't need to go looking for it. It will find you. You can hardly go to the bathroom without pulling a slot machine."
Me: "I'll look out for it jumping out around corners at me, then."

Anyway, he told me there is plenty of snow on the slopes so the skiing should be good. I asked whether the rain today would make it icy.

Conductor: "Well, you know what happens when you get rain on top of snow."
Me: "Not really. I mean, I can guess, but I don't know from experience."
Conductor: "From your accent, I'd guess Australia?"
Me: "That's right."
Conductors: "Well I can see why you wouldn't have experience with snow."

He still didn't tell me. So my practical understanding will just have to wait another couple of hours.

Obvious Lawyer

You will be pleased to know some things do not change.

On Saturday, my first full day in DC, I visited a gin distillery (New Columbia Distillery, makers of Green Hat Gin) with one of my friends here and a big group of his friends. We bottled an entire batch of gin. And had a tour of the distillery. So much fun!

Anyway, at one point I was waiting in line for the restroom. Others were there for tastings and tours, so there were some total strangers (as opposed to people I'd only just met). A couple of those total strangers were in the queue in front of me.

As the queue moved, I made a suggestion for a slight rearrangement.

And the woman at the front of the queue said: "Are you a lawyer?"

I hid my face in mock shame and asked if it was that obvious.

She said no, only another lawyer - such as herself - would have picked it.

We had enough time to exchange basic but important details, namely, what kind of law each of us did and where, before her friend came out. Woman #1 made each of us aware that we were all lawyers, and disappeared behind the locked door.

So then I had a similar exchange with Woman #2, and that in turn led to:

W#2: Oh, Australia! I've always wanted to go to New Zealand!
Me (jokingly): You know they're different countries right?
W#2: Yes - but have you been to New Zealand? And which would you recommend?
Me: It depends. Why do you want to go to New Zealand?
W#2: Wine, beaches, views?
Me: Hmm, what kind of wine do you like?
W#2: Spicy red wine...

Of course you know what I advised. (And I gave reasons, of course. I was, after all, speaking to another lawyer. Lawyers appreciate reasons for advice.)

And you probably also know what came next.

My turn in the queue came up as Woman #2 returned to her partner just through the other doorway, saying "Babe, we're going to Australia!" He looked a bit bemused. As she started to tell him about our exchange, I waved and called out "Hi! I'm B.!"

So we'll see. I may have some completely chance-met houseguests from DC some time in the future.

Sprawl

I might have known intellectually this wasn't quite right, but I always thought, or felt, or something subconscious, that American cities sprawled like Australian cities sprawl.

They don't.

I thought I had some understanding of the deep need of many Americans to own and use a car - after all, I thought, many Australians feel the same need.

No, they don't. It's different.

After only a few days in Phoenix, I'm beginning to understand how absolutely impossible it would be to live here without a car. To some extent, this understanding started to form in Ann Arbor, but there, I think, it is merely difficult to get by without a car. Much like Canberra, where I managed without one for six months: it was possible, it was even ok, but I wouldn't want to do it for much longer.

But in Phoenix, it would not even be possible. Not really.

Every time we've needed to go somewhere, we've jumped in the car. To some of those places, I might have walked had I been by myself - but we've often been on our way somewhere else anyway, so the car it is.

Anyway, the sidewalks tend to run out.

And more: no two places we've wanted to go have been in the same general location. There are often only a few shops, cafes, etc in the one small area, and as soon as you are getting in the car anyway, it seems you may as well drive for 20 minutes as for five to go to the place you really want to visit.

The city is, according to my friend and host, A., the fifth largest in the country. Unlike the other large cities in the USA that I've visited (and that's really only two or three, depending what you count as a large city), it feels to me like a collection of very spread out suburbs. On any given trip, I can't tell if we're moving closer to the centre, further away, or just travelling around.

It's like Canberra on steroids in this regard, although without the sheep. Maybe I just haven't been far enough outside the city yet.

On one trip, A. told me we were on the outskirts of the downtown area. It did not feel any less suburban to me.

On another trip, we were heading to the outskirts of the metropolitan area - apparently a little more rural - and while there were a couple of lots with some hay bales, it still just felt suburban to me.

What's more, I am having a very difficult time distinguishing bits of the city from other bits. This is not assisted by the fact that, I'm told, all of the malls are owned by the same company. They certainly look to be. (It's not only the malls.)

As a result, I am experiencing the city in a very different way from the way I normally experience cities. It is, to be honest, a bit disconcerting.

I suppose that's not a bad reason to be here.

Happy Christmas!

I'm in Phoenix, celebrating Christmas with a CS friend and her family.

To those of you who are celebrating: Happy Christmas!

Teahaus

N had pointed me towards Teahaus, and I made it there this afternoon (a perfect day to enjoy a pot of tea).

I ordered some chai, installed myself in a table in the corner and pulled out my knitting and something to read.

The woman at the table beside me asked what I was knitting. I showed her the headband I was copying, but said I was considering making it as a Moebius strip instead of being plaited.

The nice thing about being in a tea shop in Ann Arbor is that assuming the person you are talking to will know what a Moebius strip is a pretty good guess.

Not the end of the world

It's N's birthday today, as well as so everyone has been saying this year, the end of the world as per the Mayan calendar.

The birthday happened. The end of the world does not seem to have happened. We still have another 12 or so hours, but I think it would have taken place at 2 am, if it was going to happen at all.

Anyway, check out Ann Arbor's birthday present to my sister!

Zingerman's, Ann Arbor

Here I am in Ann Arbor, MI, visiting my sister, N.

I feel like I'm on holidays. The fact that Christmas and all its toppings make a lot more sense when it's cold magnifies my feeling of being away.

One of the first places N told me about was Zingerman's, a deli that is, apparently, one of the most famous places in Ann Arbor, and for good reason. It's also very close to N's house. So here I am for brunch.

There is so much chocolate here, it's not funny, plus the pastries look amazing. I will have to come back when I'm in the mood for something sweet.

And I am pretty sure you would not hear here the exchange I witnessed in a Starbucks at DFW yesterday:

Woman who had just ordered a salted caramel mocha frappucino, suspiciously, after taking a sip: There's no coffee in here, is there? I don't drink coffee.

Barista: No, no coffee.

Woman walks off with frappucino.

Barista, to me: It's probably the mocha she can taste.

Well, it was Starbucks, so I suppose it is entirely possible there was no coffee in there...