CLARISSE DOUAUD
BUENOS AIRES—It's a classic Argentine tango scene with only one obvious difference: it's gay tango night. Here, whether you will lead or submit in this sexualized dance is never assumed by your gender.
Seduced by the pulsing strains of tango music, the clientele at "La Marshall" in Buenos Aires are lured to the dance floor. Man-to-man, woman-to-woman and mixed-sex pairs weave around each other enveloped by the red light beams that break the smoky darkness.
Same-sex tango may appear to be the modernization of Argentina's traditional dance, but in reality it goes back to where it all began in the steamy brothels of the late 1800s when men danced with men.
Augusto Balizano, a professional gay tango dancer and organizer of La Marshall, has been giving classes to homosexual people for six years and started this gay milonga a year and a half ago after seeing a demand for it.
"People came to me and said they had a place to learn, but not their own place to dance," says Balizano of his students.
The term milonga refers to a social space for dancing tango. In the case of La Marshall, it takes place every Wednesday, with venues varying over time. The other gay milonga takes place at "El Lugar Gay" on Sunday evenings.
Diego is a regular here. A university music professor by day, he decided to take lessons after watching others at La Marshall.
Although Diego won't reveal his age, he says he is tired of what he sees as the youth-oriented gay nightlife in Buenos Aires, characterized by wild discotheques that are open until dawn.
"You have to be young, good-looking and `fashion,'" he says of the atmosphere at typical gay clubs in the city, "Here (at La Marshall) you just have to be nice and you meet nice people."
Lessons at La Marshall are open to everybody, gay or straight, on a pay-as-you-go basis. They start before the milonga, which goes from 10 p.m. until 3 a.m.
Another regular, Dario, sips a beer and discusses the advantages of learning tango in a gay-friendly atmosphere.
"Here you can learn to lead or to be led," says Dario, an architect, referring to the obstacle of traditional male-female roles in tango. "You can't learn that in other places."
Tango is thought to have originated in the 1880s among working-class European men in and around Buenos Aires. The passion evoked by tango dancing in Buenos Aires is steeped in sexuality, representing machismo and female submissiveness.
At La Marshall the steps are no different — one dominates and the other submits — but each can choose the role they prefer.
Balizano avoids the term "gay milonga" because he wants La Marshall to be everybody's space.
For the gay tourist in Buenos Aires, this milonga complements the regular club scene, which (for those who are so inclined) should not be missed either. In this city, renowned for its nightlife, clubs don't start filling until 2 a.m. and don't empty out until long after sunrise.
Carlos Melia is the owner and manager of Pride Travel, an agency in Buenos Aires catering to gay tourists. He opened it two years ago because of a surge of gay tourism in Argentina, which has replaced Brazil as the No. 1 Latin American destination for this tourist sector. Pride Travel offers insider information for gay tourists who want to see the gay community first-hand in Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires does not have a gay village. .
Clarisse Douaud is a Buenos Aires-based freelance writer.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Friday, July 08, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Who's afraid of turning 30?
Leah McLaren
Globe and Mail
A 29-year-old male friend recently e-mailed me an irritating article with the subject heading, "Time's a wasting, toots." The story was entitled, "Eureka! Why 29-year-olds are poised for greatness" and forwarded from The Times of London.
It reported that a team of U.S. researchers, after studying thousands of innovators and creative geniuses, had concluded that 29 is the age at which a person is most likely to have her first big, original idea.
"The age represents the optimum combination of education and energy levels required for great ideas to emerge," the researchers said.
It went on to cite recent examples of 29-year-old fabulousness in the form of Stella McCartney, who launched her own label at Gucci at that age, and Quentin Tarantino, who wrote and directed his breakout film, Reservoir Dogs, just before turning 30.
I turned 30 this year, and while I once wrote a libretto for a musical based on the greatest hits of ABBA (it was called Take A Chance; I did nothing about it), I can't lay claim to any bona fide moments of genius since.
I don't see much evidence of this supposed brilliance in the rest of my age group, either. Most of my contemporaries are just now starting to figure out their careers and/or their personal lives. Truth be told, it's usually one or the other, rarely both.
The 20s are not the decade for having it all, but for wanting it all and being disappointed when the world fails to live up to your outrageous expectations. Half the people I know from school are barely able to conceal their shock that, at the age of 29, they are not
a) famous,
b) wildly successful,
c) homeowners,
d) happy and
e) at the very least sleeping with someone who is all of the above.
When you're in your 20s, everybody makes a big deal about how great your life is. When you mention your age, senior colleagues get all gooey-eyed and say, "Oooh. Wow, I remember that." You can almost hear the Fleetwood Mac cranking up on their internal soundtrack.
Your 20s, so the theory goes, are the time for the perks of adult life (job, independence, travel, parties) with none of the drawbacks (mortgages, marital woes, stretch marks). You're supposed to enjoy the years while they last for, soon enough, the implication goes, you will end up bored, encumbered, overworked and overtiered like everyone else.
All this possibility and sense of potential is starting to wear me down. It must be taking a toll because people don't even believe me when I tell them my age any more.
Just a few weeks ago at a party, someone asked how old I was. When I told him I was 29, he smiled conspiratorially and gave me a gentle punch on the shoulder. "Sure y'are," he said.
It was at that moment I realized, I'am so over my 20s.
Most middle-aged people I know are functioning in a state of suspended adolescence anyway, so turning 30 doesn't seem half bad. Second careers, like second marriages, have a better statistical chance of working out, so why not dispense with the disappointing preliminaries and move on to the meaningful stuff? Goofing around can be fun, but sometimes it leaves you feeling, well, goofy. I welcome 30 and all the expectations and pressures it supposedly brings - not that I'm ready for responsibility, but who ever is?
I am sick of spending my evenings sitting on my deck, ordering sushi, talking on the phone and reading books like the recently published 20 Something 20 Everything: A Quarter-Life Women's Guide to Balance and Direction. In it, author Christine Hassler outlines the criteria for deciding whether you are in the throes of a quarter-life crisis. Red flags include "a need to have it all," "being stressed out by choices that seemingly affect the rest of your life," "over-analyzing yourself and your decisions" and a nagging feeling "that time is running out."
According to this list, every mentally healthy adult I know, including my eightysomething grandmother, is suffering from a quarter-life crisis. Some worries are universal and ageless it seems; I guess the difference is that eventually you get used to them.
Carol Burnett said the irony of turning 40 is that just as you get your head together, your butt falls apart. In their 20s, most people have their heads so far up their butts they barely notice when things fall apart.
I'm done with my quarter-life. Let the real crisis begin.
lmclaren@globeandmail.ca
Globe and Mail
A 29-year-old male friend recently e-mailed me an irritating article with the subject heading, "Time's a wasting, toots." The story was entitled, "Eureka! Why 29-year-olds are poised for greatness" and forwarded from The Times of London.
It reported that a team of U.S. researchers, after studying thousands of innovators and creative geniuses, had concluded that 29 is the age at which a person is most likely to have her first big, original idea.
"The age represents the optimum combination of education and energy levels required for great ideas to emerge," the researchers said.
It went on to cite recent examples of 29-year-old fabulousness in the form of Stella McCartney, who launched her own label at Gucci at that age, and Quentin Tarantino, who wrote and directed his breakout film, Reservoir Dogs, just before turning 30.
I turned 30 this year, and while I once wrote a libretto for a musical based on the greatest hits of ABBA (it was called Take A Chance; I did nothing about it), I can't lay claim to any bona fide moments of genius since.
I don't see much evidence of this supposed brilliance in the rest of my age group, either. Most of my contemporaries are just now starting to figure out their careers and/or their personal lives. Truth be told, it's usually one or the other, rarely both.
The 20s are not the decade for having it all, but for wanting it all and being disappointed when the world fails to live up to your outrageous expectations. Half the people I know from school are barely able to conceal their shock that, at the age of 29, they are not
a) famous,
b) wildly successful,
c) homeowners,
d) happy and
e) at the very least sleeping with someone who is all of the above.
When you're in your 20s, everybody makes a big deal about how great your life is. When you mention your age, senior colleagues get all gooey-eyed and say, "Oooh. Wow, I remember that." You can almost hear the Fleetwood Mac cranking up on their internal soundtrack.
Your 20s, so the theory goes, are the time for the perks of adult life (job, independence, travel, parties) with none of the drawbacks (mortgages, marital woes, stretch marks). You're supposed to enjoy the years while they last for, soon enough, the implication goes, you will end up bored, encumbered, overworked and overtiered like everyone else.
All this possibility and sense of potential is starting to wear me down. It must be taking a toll because people don't even believe me when I tell them my age any more.
Just a few weeks ago at a party, someone asked how old I was. When I told him I was 29, he smiled conspiratorially and gave me a gentle punch on the shoulder. "Sure y'are," he said.
It was at that moment I realized, I'am so over my 20s.
Most middle-aged people I know are functioning in a state of suspended adolescence anyway, so turning 30 doesn't seem half bad. Second careers, like second marriages, have a better statistical chance of working out, so why not dispense with the disappointing preliminaries and move on to the meaningful stuff? Goofing around can be fun, but sometimes it leaves you feeling, well, goofy. I welcome 30 and all the expectations and pressures it supposedly brings - not that I'm ready for responsibility, but who ever is?
I am sick of spending my evenings sitting on my deck, ordering sushi, talking on the phone and reading books like the recently published 20 Something 20 Everything: A Quarter-Life Women's Guide to Balance and Direction. In it, author Christine Hassler outlines the criteria for deciding whether you are in the throes of a quarter-life crisis. Red flags include "a need to have it all," "being stressed out by choices that seemingly affect the rest of your life," "over-analyzing yourself and your decisions" and a nagging feeling "that time is running out."
According to this list, every mentally healthy adult I know, including my eightysomething grandmother, is suffering from a quarter-life crisis. Some worries are universal and ageless it seems; I guess the difference is that eventually you get used to them.
Carol Burnett said the irony of turning 40 is that just as you get your head together, your butt falls apart. In their 20s, most people have their heads so far up their butts they barely notice when things fall apart.
I'm done with my quarter-life. Let the real crisis begin.
lmclaren@globeandmail.ca
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Brunch is the new bar scene for some
Raju Mudhar
Toronto Star
There comes a time sometime in your twenties when, instead of lining up for clubs, you start lining up in the morning for brunch spots. Oh sure, there are plenty of folks that tend to do both, but depending on what time you wake up (probably hungover) to make it out to breakfast, you best be ready to wait.
Aunties and Uncles, Boom Breakfast Co., Le Petit Dejeuner, Mildred Pierce and the Hot House are just some of the hot brunch spots downtown.
Some spots, like the first two, make breakfast and lunch their raison d'être, so it's understandable people are chomping at the bit. But what is surprising is peopole are willing to wait, although there are plenty of other brunch spots around.
I personally know the bane of waiting with a growling stomach on a weekend morning, but I know the Breakfast Pocket at Aunties and Uncles is definitely workth it. Thankfully, they've reopened their patio for the summer, which almost doubles capacity. They used to also have a clipboard for people to sign up to secure their spot in the queue, but it seems to have disappeared.
"Today, the wait was okay," says Kevin Lee, 28, at Le Petit Dejeuner. "It was only 20 minutes, so that wasn't that bad."
Of course, sometimes waiting just won't do.
"I looked, and they told my friend 15 minutes, but I figure we can just find another place and be eating by that time," says Steve Sapoulos, 26, standing with some friends outside Boom.
Many spots don't take reservations ("I'd like it if you could make them a half hour before, like right when you wake up," jokes Lee), because they say it's too much of a hassle.
"Well, we choose not to do it because of the high volume and people tend to cancel or change the number of the party, so it gets hard to keep track," says Tanya Brazil, assistant manager of Boom.
"But the lineup only looks intimidating. It's continuous, but it's fast moving."
The Hot House has gone the other way, and only takes reservations for their Sunday brunch.
"Without reservations, we don't how long it will be. Sometimes it would be an hour. And a lot of people still wait," says Andrew Laffy, the restaurant's owner.
"I mean, we feel badly for them and I know I wouldn't wait. Some Sundays, we turn away hundreds of people who call to try to get a reservation."
To handle the demand, the Hot House now opens earlier, at 9:30, and serves until 3 p.m.
The thing is, at the spots that don't take reservations, there's usually only a small window you need to wait.
By my judgment, it's somewhere around the 11:30-ish time frame, usually between the first seating of patrons and the second.
But brunch is very similar to bars: If you want to avoid the rush, your best bets are to go early or pretty late.
Toronto Star
There comes a time sometime in your twenties when, instead of lining up for clubs, you start lining up in the morning for brunch spots. Oh sure, there are plenty of folks that tend to do both, but depending on what time you wake up (probably hungover) to make it out to breakfast, you best be ready to wait.
Aunties and Uncles, Boom Breakfast Co., Le Petit Dejeuner, Mildred Pierce and the Hot House are just some of the hot brunch spots downtown.
Some spots, like the first two, make breakfast and lunch their raison d'être, so it's understandable people are chomping at the bit. But what is surprising is peopole are willing to wait, although there are plenty of other brunch spots around.
I personally know the bane of waiting with a growling stomach on a weekend morning, but I know the Breakfast Pocket at Aunties and Uncles is definitely workth it. Thankfully, they've reopened their patio for the summer, which almost doubles capacity. They used to also have a clipboard for people to sign up to secure their spot in the queue, but it seems to have disappeared.
"Today, the wait was okay," says Kevin Lee, 28, at Le Petit Dejeuner. "It was only 20 minutes, so that wasn't that bad."
Of course, sometimes waiting just won't do.
"I looked, and they told my friend 15 minutes, but I figure we can just find another place and be eating by that time," says Steve Sapoulos, 26, standing with some friends outside Boom.
Many spots don't take reservations ("I'd like it if you could make them a half hour before, like right when you wake up," jokes Lee), because they say it's too much of a hassle.
"Well, we choose not to do it because of the high volume and people tend to cancel or change the number of the party, so it gets hard to keep track," says Tanya Brazil, assistant manager of Boom.
"But the lineup only looks intimidating. It's continuous, but it's fast moving."
The Hot House has gone the other way, and only takes reservations for their Sunday brunch.
"Without reservations, we don't how long it will be. Sometimes it would be an hour. And a lot of people still wait," says Andrew Laffy, the restaurant's owner.
"I mean, we feel badly for them and I know I wouldn't wait. Some Sundays, we turn away hundreds of people who call to try to get a reservation."
To handle the demand, the Hot House now opens earlier, at 9:30, and serves until 3 p.m.
The thing is, at the spots that don't take reservations, there's usually only a small window you need to wait.
By my judgment, it's somewhere around the 11:30-ish time frame, usually between the first seating of patrons and the second.
But brunch is very similar to bars: If you want to avoid the rush, your best bets are to go early or pretty late.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
You're either gay, straight or lying
Study casts doubt on bisexuality in men
`You're either gay, straight or lying' as some put it
Research looked at genital arousal patterns in men
BENEDICT CAREY
NEW YORK TIMES
Some people are attracted to women; some are attracted to men. And some, if Sigmund Freud, Dr. Alfred Kinsey and millions of self-described bisexuals are to be believed, are drawn to both sexes.
But a new study casts doubt on whether true bisexuality exists, at least in men.
The study, by a team of psychologists in Chicago and Toronto, lends support to those who have long been skeptical that bisexuality is a distinct and stable sexual orientation.
People who claim bisexuality, according to these critics, are usually homosexual, but are ambivalent about their homosexuality or simply closeted. "You're either gay, straight or lying," as some gay men have put it.
In the new study, a team of psychologists directly measured genital arousal patterns in response to images of men and women.
The psychologists found that men who identified themselves as bisexual were in fact exclusively aroused by either one sex or the other, usually by other men.
The study is the largest of several small reports suggesting that the estimated 1.7 per cent of men who identify themselves as bisexual show physical attraction patterns that differ substantially from their professed desires.
"Research on sexual orientation has been based almost entirely on self-reports, and this is one of the few good studies using physiological measures," said Dr. Lisa Diamond, an associate professor of psychology and gender identity at the University of Utah, who was not involved in the study.
Several other researchers who have seen the study, scheduled to be published in the journal Psychological Science, said it would need to be repeated with larger numbers of bisexual men before clear conclusions could be drawn.
In the experiment, psychologists at Northwestern University in Chicago and the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto used advertisements in gay and alternative newspapers to recruit 101 young adult men. Thirty-three of them identified themselves as bisexual, 30 as straight and 38 as homosexual.
The researchers asked the men about their sexual desires and rated them on a scale from 0 to 6 on sexual orientation, with 0 to 1 indicating heterosexuality, and 5 to 6 indicating homosexuality. Bisexuality was measured by scores in the middle range.
But the men in the study who described themselves as bisexual did not have patterns of arousal that were consistent with their stated attraction to men and to women.
Instead, about three-quarters of the group had arousal patterns identical to those of gay men; the rest were indistinguishable from heterosexuals.
Since at least the middle of the 19th century, behavioural scientists have noted bisexual attraction in men and women and debated its place in the development of sexual identity.
Some experts, like Freud, concluded that humans are naturally bisexual.
In his landmark sex surveys of the 1940s, Kinsey found many married, publicly heterosexual men who reported having had sex with other men.
"Males do not represent two discrete populations, heterosexual and homosexual," Kinsey wrote. "The world is not to be divided into sheep and goats."
`You're either gay, straight or lying' as some put it
Research looked at genital arousal patterns in men
BENEDICT CAREY
NEW YORK TIMES
Some people are attracted to women; some are attracted to men. And some, if Sigmund Freud, Dr. Alfred Kinsey and millions of self-described bisexuals are to be believed, are drawn to both sexes.
But a new study casts doubt on whether true bisexuality exists, at least in men.
The study, by a team of psychologists in Chicago and Toronto, lends support to those who have long been skeptical that bisexuality is a distinct and stable sexual orientation.
People who claim bisexuality, according to these critics, are usually homosexual, but are ambivalent about their homosexuality or simply closeted. "You're either gay, straight or lying," as some gay men have put it.
In the new study, a team of psychologists directly measured genital arousal patterns in response to images of men and women.
The psychologists found that men who identified themselves as bisexual were in fact exclusively aroused by either one sex or the other, usually by other men.
The study is the largest of several small reports suggesting that the estimated 1.7 per cent of men who identify themselves as bisexual show physical attraction patterns that differ substantially from their professed desires.
"Research on sexual orientation has been based almost entirely on self-reports, and this is one of the few good studies using physiological measures," said Dr. Lisa Diamond, an associate professor of psychology and gender identity at the University of Utah, who was not involved in the study.
Several other researchers who have seen the study, scheduled to be published in the journal Psychological Science, said it would need to be repeated with larger numbers of bisexual men before clear conclusions could be drawn.
In the experiment, psychologists at Northwestern University in Chicago and the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto used advertisements in gay and alternative newspapers to recruit 101 young adult men. Thirty-three of them identified themselves as bisexual, 30 as straight and 38 as homosexual.
The researchers asked the men about their sexual desires and rated them on a scale from 0 to 6 on sexual orientation, with 0 to 1 indicating heterosexuality, and 5 to 6 indicating homosexuality. Bisexuality was measured by scores in the middle range.
But the men in the study who described themselves as bisexual did not have patterns of arousal that were consistent with their stated attraction to men and to women.
Instead, about three-quarters of the group had arousal patterns identical to those of gay men; the rest were indistinguishable from heterosexuals.
Since at least the middle of the 19th century, behavioural scientists have noted bisexual attraction in men and women and debated its place in the development of sexual identity.
Some experts, like Freud, concluded that humans are naturally bisexual.
In his landmark sex surveys of the 1940s, Kinsey found many married, publicly heterosexual men who reported having had sex with other men.
"Males do not represent two discrete populations, heterosexual and homosexual," Kinsey wrote. "The world is not to be divided into sheep and goats."
Monday, June 27, 2005
Vietnam
The temple is called "De Yue Lou" but the girl doesn't know what those Chinese Characters mean.
I have no idea who he is, but he definitely dress like ancient Chinese people of "Song Dynasty".
Hanoi is a city of Mopeds...
Sunday, June 19, 2005
人在旅途
离开北京那天阳光灿烂得不行，从St. Regis 的窗户里看出去，长安街上车水马龙， 人来人往。 房间里非常安静，只有CNN亚洲台在轻轻地播报着伊拉克的最新消息和股指走向。
飞 机是下午两点的，我在房间里收拾行李。这些年来，为了工作， 我已经习惯了从一个时区到另一个时区, 从一个城市到另一个城市，从一个 Hotel 到另一个 Hotel 的生活，可是今天，我却想起了从前。
曾 经有一个少年，常常在一天的工作之后，一个人独坐在机场宿舍的荧光灯下，读一本又一本的英文书，听窗外深夜里汽车疾驶的声音，梦想着有一天，展翅高飞， 去一个陌生的国度，展开一段全新的生活。把一切一切的不如意，一切一切的烦恼，一切一切的孤单都统统抛掉。在许多个那样的夜晚，他问自己：这样的生活还要 持续多久？未来到底还有多远？
那时候的梦想，今天差不多都已是现实。
我闭上眼睛，对那个孤灯下的少年说：Congratulations, you've come a long way!
飞 机是下午两点的，我在房间里收拾行李。这些年来，为了工作， 我已经习惯了从一个时区到另一个时区, 从一个城市到另一个城市，从一个 Hotel 到另一个 Hotel 的生活，可是今天，我却想起了从前。
曾 经有一个少年，常常在一天的工作之后，一个人独坐在机场宿舍的荧光灯下，读一本又一本的英文书，听窗外深夜里汽车疾驶的声音，梦想着有一天，展翅高飞， 去一个陌生的国度，展开一段全新的生活。把一切一切的不如意，一切一切的烦恼，一切一切的孤单都统统抛掉。在许多个那样的夜晚，他问自己：这样的生活还要 持续多久？未来到底还有多远？
那时候的梦想，今天差不多都已是现实。
我闭上眼睛，对那个孤灯下的少年说：Congratulations, you've come a long way!
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Driving on the edge
Highway 1 is touted as America's most scenic route, with more twists and turns than life itself
This journey is best taken slow if you don't want to miss any thrills along the way, Susan Pigg writes
PACIFIC COAST, CAlif.— "Do you think it's possible to get drunk on beauty?" asks a girlfriend as we soak up the stunning scenery along the most famous drive in the United States.
I have to admit that I'm feeling light-headed. I'm uncertain if it's the high altitude, the hairpin turns or the Mayflower moving truck barrelling toward our rented car while straddling the centre line of this cliffside ribbon of highway.
It could also be that my head is still swimming because I can't believe two moms, with five kids between us, have pulled off the impossible: We've managed to escape laundry, lunches and lists to indulge in the ultimate chick trip along the famed Highway 1 between Los Angeles and San Francisco.
"Are you going to be Thelma or Louise?" was all my friend's husband wanted to know before calendars were checked and we were cleared for takeoff.
"I'm the one who has hot sex with Brad Pitt," she shot back.
Well, a girl can dream, can't she? And if there's a place where the unexpected is always just around the next breathtaking bend, Highway 1 is it.
This two-lane stretch of coastal California is best navigated topless — preferably in a red convertible. But be warned they are in high demand from aging baby boomers. If you're not quick, you'll be stuck like us, driving a beige Chevrolet Classic that screams middle-aged mama. It's a tougher way to take in the 360-degree views, the sounds of crashing waves and the smell of pine trees.
It's an age-old debate here whether it's best to drive the route south to north or north to south. The views of rocky shoreline may be somewhat more spectacular heading south from San Francisco to L.A., but you're also driving right on the edge of a cliff. Those heading north, on the other hand, are hugging mountainsides (not entirely without risk as they're prone to rock and mudslides), but at least there's one lane of highway between you and certain death if your eyes stray from the road for a second too long.
We've come prepared with rudimentary maps, Beach Boys CDs and months of pent-up chit-chat. But you don't really need the first two given that the best spots along the way are hard to miss — Santa Barbara, San Simeon, Big Sur, Carmel, Monterey, Santa Cruz — and music sometimes distracts from the real star of the show here, Mother Nature.
Set aside at least five days if you want to indulge in West Coast wine and seafood, poke around in the many artisan shops or tour Hearst Castle, the monument to extravagance perched on a mountaintop overlooking the seaside pier at San Simeon.
But three days is a minimum, a discovery we made in our quick, two-day tour between San Luis Obispo and Monterey. We ended up hightailing to make our final destination, San Francisco, and catch our flight home.
This a trip for grown-ups, best not wrecked by the siren call "Are we there yet?" Guide books warn you not to rush along this stretch of the Central Coast of California. The reality is, with all the sharp twists and turns, you are forced to go slow — usually under 55 km/h.
We regret that we ran out of time to stroll the palm-lined beaches of Santa Barbara — known as the American Riviera — or the delightful little Danish town of Solvang with its windmills, not to mention "surf city" Santa Cruz with its beach boardwalk and historic waterfront amusement park.
But there's always next year.
San Luis Obispo: This serene small town is a great place to stretch your legs and cool down while dipping your toes in the picturesque creek that runs right past the historic Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, founded in 1772. This southern gateway to a series of ancient volcanic peaks and sprawling dairy ranches provides the first taste of the unique and varied scenery that makes this drive so memorable.
Morro Bay: This small fishing town is called the "Gibraltar of the Pacific" because of the 175-metre-high volcanic rock that protrudes from its harbour, a haven for fishing craft, sailboats and kayaking. Nearby is great hiking and camping and the Morro Bay Estuary, the nation's third-largest bird sanctuary. Cambria: This town of 6,500 people feels a bit like Niagara-on-the-Lake nestled among giant coastal pines, with its mix of galleries, artisan shops and B&Bs. The beach is a delight for both surfers and beachcombers.
San Simeon: A popular spot as much because of its lovely beach and massive waterfront wharf where, during the 1920s, ships delivered the lavish materials and furnishings used to create the palatial 165-room, hilltop estate of newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst. Give yourself a minimum of two hours to tour the treasure-filled, 100,000-hectare ranch where Hearst once entertained the rich and famous on grounds where zebras roam. Tickets are $24 for adults, $12 for children and can be booked through 1-916-414-8400 Ext. 4100.
Ragged Point: This lookout, which features a hotel, snack shop and a picture-perfect vantage point on the edge of a cliff, provides a dizzying glimpse of the road ahead. Don't stop if you suffer from vertigo. Big Sur: This legendary area of Monterey County — home to the Santa Lucia and Gabilan Mountain ranges — is what this coastal drive is really all about. On one side of the highway is 145 kilometres of dramatic Pacific coastline, on the other side there are massive pines, state parks and 16,000-hectares of vineyards. It's a haven for hikers, bikers, campers and wildlife with some of the best sunsets on the planet. The "town" of Big Sur is aptly described in guidebooks as "a modern-day trading post" where local artisans and authors sell their wares in rustic shops nestled among the most southerly patch of giant redwoods in California.
Carmel-by-the-Sea: This charming town has been in the spotlight thanks to its former mayor, actor Clint Eastwood. But good food, great art galleries and beaches dotted with blankets at sunset have really put it on the map. You can go to lovely Carmel Beach proper for free as the sun's going down. Or pay the $8.50 toll to visit the coastal stretch of the famed 17-Mile Drive around the upscale Pebble Beach golf course and resort. It's a priceless view of the Pacific sunset on one side of the road and multi-million-dollar homes on the other. Don't miss the eerie Ghost Tree, a Monterey cypress bleached white from wind and sea spray. Another favoured stop is Cypress Point Lookout which is closed from April 1 to June 1 to provide a peaceful breeding ground for harbour seals that return here each spring to bear their young.
Monterey: It's all been written about many times: the Monterey Bay Aquarium, voted the No. 1 aquarium in the U.S.; Cannery Row, beautifully refurbished warehouses and canneries from this city's heyday as "the sardine capital of the world;" and Fisherman's Wharf where restaurants boast you can "dine here and watch seals from your table." This is a delightful place to while away the hours, eating freshly caught seafood, walking along busy Cannery Row or pedalling four-seater surreys along the waterfront recreation trail.
By the end of this coastal trip, we will have logged more than 800 kilometres, passed by palm trees and pine trees, strawberry fields and artichoke plants and stood within reach of seals basking on a beach. We also will have seen a colourful patchwork quilt of scenery that has shaped the culture and the many characters of California.But this magical slice of California had a final surprise for us as we celebrated our epic journey over a glass of wine at the elegant Ritz-Carlton San Francisco. There — hovering over the dessert table — was Al Gore, the former U.S. vice president and presidential candidate.My girlfriend and I looked at each other before bursting into laughter.
Hey, he may lack the raw sex appeal of Brad Pitt. But at our age, Al Gore will do.
For more information on the Central Coast region, see http://www.centralcoast-tourism.com or call 1-831-902-7275. The site provides links to the various cities and towns along the route.
This journey is best taken slow if you don't want to miss any thrills along the way, Susan Pigg writes
PACIFIC COAST, CAlif.— "Do you think it's possible to get drunk on beauty?" asks a girlfriend as we soak up the stunning scenery along the most famous drive in the United States.
I have to admit that I'm feeling light-headed. I'm uncertain if it's the high altitude, the hairpin turns or the Mayflower moving truck barrelling toward our rented car while straddling the centre line of this cliffside ribbon of highway.
It could also be that my head is still swimming because I can't believe two moms, with five kids between us, have pulled off the impossible: We've managed to escape laundry, lunches and lists to indulge in the ultimate chick trip along the famed Highway 1 between Los Angeles and San Francisco.
"Are you going to be Thelma or Louise?" was all my friend's husband wanted to know before calendars were checked and we were cleared for takeoff.
"I'm the one who has hot sex with Brad Pitt," she shot back.
Well, a girl can dream, can't she? And if there's a place where the unexpected is always just around the next breathtaking bend, Highway 1 is it.
This two-lane stretch of coastal California is best navigated topless — preferably in a red convertible. But be warned they are in high demand from aging baby boomers. If you're not quick, you'll be stuck like us, driving a beige Chevrolet Classic that screams middle-aged mama. It's a tougher way to take in the 360-degree views, the sounds of crashing waves and the smell of pine trees.
It's an age-old debate here whether it's best to drive the route south to north or north to south. The views of rocky shoreline may be somewhat more spectacular heading south from San Francisco to L.A., but you're also driving right on the edge of a cliff. Those heading north, on the other hand, are hugging mountainsides (not entirely without risk as they're prone to rock and mudslides), but at least there's one lane of highway between you and certain death if your eyes stray from the road for a second too long.
We've come prepared with rudimentary maps, Beach Boys CDs and months of pent-up chit-chat. But you don't really need the first two given that the best spots along the way are hard to miss — Santa Barbara, San Simeon, Big Sur, Carmel, Monterey, Santa Cruz — and music sometimes distracts from the real star of the show here, Mother Nature.
Set aside at least five days if you want to indulge in West Coast wine and seafood, poke around in the many artisan shops or tour Hearst Castle, the monument to extravagance perched on a mountaintop overlooking the seaside pier at San Simeon.
But three days is a minimum, a discovery we made in our quick, two-day tour between San Luis Obispo and Monterey. We ended up hightailing to make our final destination, San Francisco, and catch our flight home.
This a trip for grown-ups, best not wrecked by the siren call "Are we there yet?" Guide books warn you not to rush along this stretch of the Central Coast of California. The reality is, with all the sharp twists and turns, you are forced to go slow — usually under 55 km/h.
We regret that we ran out of time to stroll the palm-lined beaches of Santa Barbara — known as the American Riviera — or the delightful little Danish town of Solvang with its windmills, not to mention "surf city" Santa Cruz with its beach boardwalk and historic waterfront amusement park.
But there's always next year.
San Luis Obispo: This serene small town is a great place to stretch your legs and cool down while dipping your toes in the picturesque creek that runs right past the historic Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, founded in 1772. This southern gateway to a series of ancient volcanic peaks and sprawling dairy ranches provides the first taste of the unique and varied scenery that makes this drive so memorable.
Morro Bay: This small fishing town is called the "Gibraltar of the Pacific" because of the 175-metre-high volcanic rock that protrudes from its harbour, a haven for fishing craft, sailboats and kayaking. Nearby is great hiking and camping and the Morro Bay Estuary, the nation's third-largest bird sanctuary. Cambria: This town of 6,500 people feels a bit like Niagara-on-the-Lake nestled among giant coastal pines, with its mix of galleries, artisan shops and B&Bs. The beach is a delight for both surfers and beachcombers.
San Simeon: A popular spot as much because of its lovely beach and massive waterfront wharf where, during the 1920s, ships delivered the lavish materials and furnishings used to create the palatial 165-room, hilltop estate of newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst. Give yourself a minimum of two hours to tour the treasure-filled, 100,000-hectare ranch where Hearst once entertained the rich and famous on grounds where zebras roam. Tickets are $24 for adults, $12 for children and can be booked through 1-916-414-8400 Ext. 4100.
Ragged Point: This lookout, which features a hotel, snack shop and a picture-perfect vantage point on the edge of a cliff, provides a dizzying glimpse of the road ahead. Don't stop if you suffer from vertigo. Big Sur: This legendary area of Monterey County — home to the Santa Lucia and Gabilan Mountain ranges — is what this coastal drive is really all about. On one side of the highway is 145 kilometres of dramatic Pacific coastline, on the other side there are massive pines, state parks and 16,000-hectares of vineyards. It's a haven for hikers, bikers, campers and wildlife with some of the best sunsets on the planet. The "town" of Big Sur is aptly described in guidebooks as "a modern-day trading post" where local artisans and authors sell their wares in rustic shops nestled among the most southerly patch of giant redwoods in California.
Carmel-by-the-Sea: This charming town has been in the spotlight thanks to its former mayor, actor Clint Eastwood. But good food, great art galleries and beaches dotted with blankets at sunset have really put it on the map. You can go to lovely Carmel Beach proper for free as the sun's going down. Or pay the $8.50 toll to visit the coastal stretch of the famed 17-Mile Drive around the upscale Pebble Beach golf course and resort. It's a priceless view of the Pacific sunset on one side of the road and multi-million-dollar homes on the other. Don't miss the eerie Ghost Tree, a Monterey cypress bleached white from wind and sea spray. Another favoured stop is Cypress Point Lookout which is closed from April 1 to June 1 to provide a peaceful breeding ground for harbour seals that return here each spring to bear their young.
Monterey: It's all been written about many times: the Monterey Bay Aquarium, voted the No. 1 aquarium in the U.S.; Cannery Row, beautifully refurbished warehouses and canneries from this city's heyday as "the sardine capital of the world;" and Fisherman's Wharf where restaurants boast you can "dine here and watch seals from your table." This is a delightful place to while away the hours, eating freshly caught seafood, walking along busy Cannery Row or pedalling four-seater surreys along the waterfront recreation trail.
By the end of this coastal trip, we will have logged more than 800 kilometres, passed by palm trees and pine trees, strawberry fields and artichoke plants and stood within reach of seals basking on a beach. We also will have seen a colourful patchwork quilt of scenery that has shaped the culture and the many characters of California.But this magical slice of California had a final surprise for us as we celebrated our epic journey over a glass of wine at the elegant Ritz-Carlton San Francisco. There — hovering over the dessert table — was Al Gore, the former U.S. vice president and presidential candidate.My girlfriend and I looked at each other before bursting into laughter.
Hey, he may lack the raw sex appeal of Brad Pitt. But at our age, Al Gore will do.
For more information on the Central Coast region, see http://www.centralcoast-tourism.com or call 1-831-902-7275. The site provides links to the various cities and towns along the route.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Take the Sideways wine personality test
GORD STIMMELL
As a wine critic, I've always found that individual wines have personality. That personality is due to the grapes, their background, their geographic location, the magic and unique combination of sun, rain, soil and winemakers' prowess in sculpting the grapes into the final wine.
So yes, wines take on human characteristics. But what if humans took on the characteristics of wine? This has already happened in the wine road-trip movie Sideways.
Pinot noir is the passion of Miles (Paul Giamatti), a balding, recently divorced struggling novelist who decides to go with friend Jack (Thomas Haden Church) — who is getting married in a week — for a final freedom fling to the Central Coast, sipping their way through the scenic wineries of California's Santa Barbara County.
Pinot noir hasn't had so much publicity since Marq de Villiers book The Heartbreak Grape. And Miles' obsession has been picked up by the public and translated into a surge in sales for pinot noir. On the other hand, Miles holds considerable disdain for merlot. At one point in the movie, he grabs Jack on the doorstep of a restaurant where they are about to join their dates, and warns: "If anyone orders merlot, I'm leaving. No going to the dark side."
Merlot sales have been in a slight funk for a few years now, so this couldn't be helping.
But the movie has spurred enthusiasm for wine in general. Sideways wine tours have sprung up in Santa Barbara, retracing the duo's vinous voyage. There's even a Sideways wine map on the Internet.
Miles and Jack could not be more contrasting, and each resembles the traits of certain grapes. Miles is the most obvious, because like pinot noir, he sips gingerly from the pool of life, is fussy, shy, hard to love and work with, and has lots of sensitive layers. He is a classic introvert and is as "thin skinned" as the grape he describes.
His unlikely longtime pal Jack is the opposite. Ruggedly handsome part-time actor Jack is simple. He lives by his emotions in the moment, diving directly into the pool of life. He is amazingly like merlot, with its in-your-face flavour, a total extrovert. All Jack wants is the wine to taste good and to sip deeply from it and just to live in the present. Of course the movie's director, Alexander Payne, feels "Jack is more of a cabernet, which can be grown anywhere and survive even when neglected."
How woman-slayer Jack and wine-geeky Miles ever got to be best buds is an enduring mystery.
Together, they make a strange blend. Jack is not content with a seduction of his senses by wine; he wants his life to contain one last grand seduction of a woman before marriage, and tries to drag unwilling Miles deeply into it.
The two women they encounter in their blitzkreig visit to wineries turn out to be pretty complex, yes, like fine wine. The women are both closet wine connoisseurs and not pretentious about it, whereas Miles tends to get into wine so deeply — no doubt to escape the pain of his failed marriage and an unpublishable novel — that he sounds like a snob no matter what he says.
Wine pourer Stephanie (Sandra Oh) is vivacious but has hidden dimensions. At first, when she becomes a passionate partner for Jack, she's a sexy shiraz. Upfront, voluptuous, a fun-loving mate. Then it's a sudden shock that we learn her home wine stash contains a Richebourg, a legendary pinot noir. Soon we realize she is an exotic, with floral dimensions, but is no man's fool, with a fierce spicy core.
In short, she's a special reserve gewürztraminer.
Waitress Maya (Virginia Madsen) is more like a racy white wine. She wakes up the orally retentive Miles on a first double date with a gently seductive Fiddlehead Sauvignon Blanc she shares with him. Maya exudes quiet class, like a premium chardonnay with just the right blend of oak and fruit in perfect harmony. She's that precious balance between elegance and power.
Maya has a wonderful speech to Miles in which she confesses she thinks of wine as "a living thing," how it tastes different each time it is opened and ever continues to evolve. "That is, until it peaks and begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so f--king good." Miles, as usual, gets the meaning but misses her seductive subtext. It's all too easy to take chardonnay for granted.
Wine is the fifth major character in Sideways. Its vines reach into every crevice of the movie. However, you do not have to be a grape aficionado to identify with the four major characters. There's lots of humanity there to hang affection, or repugnance, upon.
With all the Oscar nominations, Sideways is bound for glory and more audiences, so the pinot noir frenzy will likely not abate for awhile. But as even Miles admits, great pinot noirs are few and far between. For every great red Burgundy, there are dozens of thin, acrid versions at equally expensive prices. And even with more lavishly fruited Oregon and California and New Zealand pinot noirs, one has to be selective.
So which grape are you?
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