vacation – Britt Skrabanek

It Pulls Me In

Give me mountains, give me deserts, give me rivers, give me forests and I am captivated—starry-eyed and serene.

Yet, the sea is so different. It pulls me in.

Its power is something I cannot fight, something I am willing to surrender to.

I am a happy slave to the sea. For I am so insignificant when I am around it, because it is greater than I will ever be.

Nothing feels better than being humbled and calmed this way. To know that all of my fears and worries are specks, like grains of sand easily swept away by the tide.

With my sandals casually held in one hand and a salty breeze brushing the other, my toes sunk into the wet sand as I walked along the beach with my love by my side. He is always like that tide, pulling me in, soothing me and making me a better person.

I was away from the sea for too long. I need it near me, to remind me of the unknown.

That it is okay to just be.

Last Sunday Mr. H and I hopped in the car and drove to Cannon Beach to recharge. I got more out of it than I expected, including a little sunburn and a lot of peace.

Here are some fun pix to round out the awesome day we had.

We drank local pale ales on the patio…

We ate clam chowder topped with shrimp in sourdough bread bowls…

There was an impromptu showgirl moment…

A cool Mr. H shot in front of Haystack Rock…

And, the big finale…

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the routines we all create.

If you haven’t lately, go out and find something that pulls you in.

This Place is “Hideous”

Vista House in the Columbia River Gorge (aka The Looker)

As soon as we passed the Oregon border after our three-day jaunt across the country, cats in tow, our jaws dropped open. The final hours of our drive were alarmingly beautiful.

We kept oohing and aahing over every damn thing.

Look at the colorful train across the amazing river! Wow!
Look at the incredible rams chillin’ on the hillside! Bitchin’!
Look at the snowy Cascades way the hell over there! Cool!
Look at how freaking gorgeous everything is! Neato!

So being the smart asses that we are, we said enough with all of the goofy, pretty talk. To change it up, we now joke about how ugly everything is.

(To avoid this sick humor being lost in translation, I will bold and italicize all sarcastic adjectives going forward.)

IMG_20140406_121444 — Vista House Married Couple Selfies

Last Sunday we took a repellent scenic drive near the Columbia River with Multnomah Falls as the endpoint. The bridges were blah, the hills were drab, and there were revolting waterfalls everywhere.

And bonus, all of this vile nature is a short 30-minute drive from the city for us.

Eventually our road game shouting “Waterfall!” every time we spotted one fizzled out. After the tenth unsightly waterfall, we no longer acknowledged their sleazy presence.

They are disgusting after all.

You can easily spend an entire day on this offensive road, stopping at perverse waterfalls and hiking your ass off. Even though we were like kids in a candy shop, we reined in our enthusiasm and chose to stop at two.

As you can see here, the Latourell Falls are absolutely foul. But, I’m into those legs.

IMG_20140406_122610071 — Mr. H’s Legs and Latourell Falls

Two adventurers were frolicking around the top of the yucky waterfall. They’re a little hard to see, but they’re up there being batshit crazy.

Being the party poopers we are, we stayed safely on dry land. We meandered along the homely road, passing one grody waterfall after another.

We arrived at Multnomah Falls and joined the masses to marvel at this nauseating sight.

After we fetched our chai tea lattes and fresh chocolate fudge from the little hut in front of the falls, we hopped in the car and headed home.

Overall, our day was very plain and uninspiring.

And, while we’re at it…these two really gross me out!

Your turn! What’s the most “hideous” place you’ve ever been to?

Le Food, Le Drool

Ah, food. How you sooth me, energize me, and whisk my troubles away. How you bring me joy, fulfill me, and…

Oh, hello there! Sorry, I just went into a food love coma for a moment, but I’m back.

So, last week I chatted about our invasion of Montreal. Today, let’s talk food!!!

It’s no secret around the cyber world (this blog, my other blog, FB, Twitter) that I worship food.

So much that my idea of a shopping spree is going to our local Co-Op and spending without remorse. So much that purchasing our very first food processor a couple of weeks ago has made me insanely happy. So much that we even named said food processor “Bruce Lee”. He likes to chop shit up and he does it like a boss.

Anywho, one of the main reasons we gallavanted up to Montreal was for the food scene. There’s a lot of hype, saying it’s one of the food capitals of the world.

Was it the food orgy we were seeking? Um, let’s just say we’ve had better.

But, let’s also say that there was no possible way for us to eat at ALL of the restaurants there. I’ve never seen so many spunky cafes crammed together in my life. Also, we like to travel on a budget so we usually rock the apartment rental and cook a lot of our own food.

(A quick warning to budget traveling foodies…prepare yourself for the ultimate food tax at restaurants AND grocery stores in Montreal. You’ll be taxed twice and it will hurt your feelings when it happens.)

Anywho, since I just so happen to be married to the best chef in the world, there were many cozy nights spent on the terrace like this…

le plateau montreal — Our Stupendous Terrace in Le Plateau

One of the things we’ve learned over the years from the great Anthony Bourdain…when you first arrive somewhere, get your happy butt to the market. You will instantly connect with the people, culture, and pulse of your unfamiliar surroundings.

On our first morning, we took the Metro straight to the market. The Jean-Talon Market, mecca of grub.

jean talon market mushrooms — Mr. H Cruising the Shrooms

The French do three things brilliantly: cheese, chocolate, and bread. In other words, throw your healthy morals out the freaking window, ditch the skinny jeans, and indulge your ass off.

We received this cheese recommendation from a young fellow at the Jean-Talon Market, which was used in the terrace pasta above. It was creamy perfection and we ate it every day.

quebec cheese — The Cheese Wrapper (sorry, we ate the actual cheese)

We explored chocolate in many glorious forms…

jean talon market creperie marche — Slingin’ Crepes at Jean Talon Market

jean talon market crepe — Salted Caramel, Butter, and Chocolate Crepe at Jean-Talon Market

Juliette et Chocolat brownie and latte — Bananatella Brownie (Banana and Nutella) at Juliette et Chocolate in the Latin Quarter

There was a bar of chocolate called Caramel Crack from a chocolatier in the Plateau that was to die for. It was my kind of crack! (Sorry, no pic. We ate that puppy on the long road back home to Milwaukee.)

Lastly, we dipped a fresh baguette in a yummy tomato broth Mr. H fashioned to go with our mussels.

jean talon market seafood — Jean Talon Fish Market

Mussels are everywhere in Montreal. To save some bucks, we recommend fetching your own at the Jean-Talon fish market and enjoying them at your leisure.

In the end, Montreal is a fun romp for foodies who like the richness of French cuisine. Know that you’ll pay out the ass for food taxes, the chocolate anywhere will knock your damn socks off, and you’ll probably need to detox when you get home.

The Falls of FUBAR

Flowing energy rushes toward the edge, a slave to its inevitable fate. It builds and builds and builds some more, unwilling to compromise.

Suddenly, it slips.

For a few precious seconds it suspends high in the air, engaging in a soundless symphony.

Then, it falls.

The finale is deafening, like cymbals clanging against the bottom of an unforgiving pit. This masterpiece draws us in – millions year after year.

Niagara Falls.

Embarking on a road trip to Montreal made this a no-brainer overnight stop for us. Mr. H and I booked a crappy chain hotel on the Canadian side, followed our trusty electronic maps, and strapped Ken Follett the cow in his seat.

Along the way we admired ~~Provence~~ upstate New York…

Ten lengthy hours after leaving Milwaukee, we arrived.

It was dark. And the border crossing at Niagara Falls, Canada was completely FUBAR.

Labor Day weekend. Border strike. FUBAR.

There’s something bittersweet about driving across North America, making it to your destination in decent spirits – cramping with hunger, aching from head to toe, delicates lodged in places – and being trapped with all the other bleary-eyed, naive tourists in this…

…for a freaking hour.

Naturally, Mr. H. wasn’t havin’ it. I love him even more for rescuing us from our gridlock hell to nowhere. My hero!

Destined to sleep in our truck on the side of a potholed street, we stumbled into a nearby hotel and luckily they were able to accommodate us. (Nothing like flushing money down the shitter on that unreachable hotel on the Canadian side, eh?)

As usual, we made the best of the situation. We lowered our standards and gleefully stuffed our faces in the familiar chain restaurant attached to the joint.

Mediocre fried food. Cold beer. We were saved.

Feeling tipsy, our sanity obviously questionable, we decided to go to the casino across the street to drink our touristy sorrows away and people watch. We’re not gamblers, so this environment fascinates us.

After a while, what initially seemed intriguing became ho-hum, borderline depressing, and our eyes became heavy. So we stumbled back to our hotel, scented with cigarettes and defeat.

The next day, despite our irritation with the whole charade, we went to the damn falls. We were a tough crowd, but Mother Nature won us over with her minxy appeal.

The credit card bill, the slot machines, and the traffic disappeared in that moment.

Niagara Falls…are they really worth it? The blood, the sweat, the tears?

Hell yeah they are!

Gone Road Trippin’

My dear, fantastic, rad, amazing sweet ones…

I will be out of the blogging office starting tomorrow, August 29th. No social media, pix, comments, likes, etc. – I’m going dark.

Mr. H and I will be embarking on a road trip (or, le road trip as we are lovingly calling it) to Montreal. It’s been almost an entire year since I’ve had a vacation.

(Gasp.)

Tell me about it!

I’ll be back on September 10th with some North American tales. In the meantime, stay cool, be cool, and…I’ll miss you guys!

Yours truly,

Britt