Oh Vegas. With your enticing buffets, topless shows, scandalous gambling, and blinding lights…
It had been a while since we checked out Las Vegas; last time, one Zeon-organized trip took us mid-summer, mid-desert, to a place where free public entertainment compensated for limited college funds. Since I was in between jobs and Sui was on winter break, we figured it was about time for a return trip.
Sadly, when you don’t gamble or go clubbing, Vegas is a lot less interesting. Despite the diverse entertainment, having a jolly time in Vegas ultimately means spending money at the slots, in the bars, or around the malls; we opted to spend cash on shows and food instead. This is a quick account of some of the interesting venues we dropped by, just in case anybody wants to check them out.
And for those more visually-inclined, some pictures of the trip. ()
The abundance of carny games and people at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk was slightly disappointing, so our entourage headed along scenic Highway I, meandering our way along the Californian coast, enjoying great views of the ocean and for for those of us sensitive to winding roads, motion sickness.
Following a coworker’s recommendation, we stopped at an unmarked area off the highway, where a slanting trail lead downwards to a cozy patch of sand and rocks isolated from the rest of the world. Panther Beach, as it is known, was a picturesque location; rocky cliffs shelter its beauty from tourist eyes, lapping waves erase yesterday’s footprints, and September winds add an encouraging chill:
It was a big deal this summer at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk; the radio blared about its 100th year anniversary along with the enticing possibility of $1 rides when purchasing cans of Sprite on the weekdays. Since I’ve never been to Santa Cruz, Jeff, in the course of 20+ e-mails, kindly arranged a trip down to the land of excessive sunshine.
One of the first things I noticed upon arrival was the lack of a beach. Well, there may have been a beach, but the view on the road alongside the boardwalk was simply vacation houses and concrete walls, although they may have been trying to build anticipation of the tourist trap. Getting out of the car and shrugging on a backpack holding beach-appropriate gear, I came upon this at the entrance:
I’m currently sitting in the newly opened San Mateo main public library, looking over the stacks of books and studying people to contemplate the right combination of words to describe this…serenity. Having not been to the library in a good many years, it’s cool to see how the purpose of the institution has transformed to keep up with modern times.
The Internet and Barnes and Nobles have cobined to kill off the traditional library. No longer is it vital to do one’s research papers buried within stacks of reference books; the Internet and Google has made it too convenient for bits and bytes to deliver information over printed text and paper. Nor is it necessary to visit the library if one simply wants to curl up to a good read; BN has made it pleasant and inviting to stay at the bookstore, sipping a coffee and freed of draconian rules of silence.
Heading out to company headquarters always feels like a vacation in itself: Factset‘s generous meal allowances, hotel arrangements, and proximity to NYC almost makes up for the crappy weather, time away from home, and terrible, terrible jet lag.
So I’m out here for a conference this week, and naturally the weekends are spent in the big city next door: travelling to the city, travelling in the city, walking from landmark A to B, then finally travelling out of the city. For every minute that you’re experiencing something interesting or extraordinary, chances are you spent 10 minutes getting there. The less cynical would point out that the commute is in itself an experience, which may be true in the rarest of cases and such occurences would deserve to be documented in some form of writing to be savored by future generations.
On a completely unrelated note, I had an awesome bike ride through Central Park. Bay-Area-like weather, well designed bike paths, myriads of people, and a storm of spring pollen made it probably the best ride I’ve ever had on a bike. Central Park is probably the best designed inner city park in the world sporting the world’s most expensive maintenance bill, so it comes as no surprise that a trip through it is exhilarating and refreshing.
But don’t rent bikes from those guys in the park; they’re ripoffs and will make you sore the day after from their award-winning anti-ergonomic design, a.k.a. cheap and crappy. Next time I come here, I’m packing my own bike.
Last weekend, Sui and I had a chance to take a tour of the facilities of world famous (kinda) Scharffenberger at Berkeley, one of America’s leading makers of concentrated, dark chocolate. That is, they hold daily tours of the factory (), where they teach you about how chocolate gets made, let you sample some of their trademark mixes, and gawk at some of the machinery that make the magic happen, concluded by a thorough walkthrough of the gift shop.
To give some credit, though, it’s cool that they took the time to organize free tours. be “the only chocolate factory in America that lets you take as many pictures as you want”, and set up a classroom to teach people how their chocolate is made. I guess I was a bit underwhelmed by the actual tour – machines weren’t moving and there was not much to see for those that did, the facilities weren’t as big as I had hoped, and they could have been more interactive than “here’s that thing that I talked about in the beginning of your tour which you have already forgotten the name of: ta-da!”.
