A nice sunny morning? That's a paddlin’.

Kayaking appears to be quite popular here, which isn’t surprising given the vast, extensive network of intercoastal waterways, bayous and rivers. Plus, it’s generally warm out! Bonus.

This Saturday morning we took our turn to venture out, booking ourselves a tandem kayak with iKayak Sarasota. Julie determined that they offered the best value and timing of the operators we found online. Unfortunately, when we got there, we learned it was low tide and our guide was a bit nervous about us being able to get into, and out of, the mangrove tunnels. But on the bright side, we were the only guests for the morning so we could go do whatever we wanted.

Our guide, Mark, is a lifetime Sarasotan who has spent much of his life on the water, but “couldn’t spell kayak guide 5 years ago!”. No matter, we’re not white water kayaking here, but lazily paddling out in the calm waters in between Lido and Bird Keys and Mark definitely knew the finer details of the area. He pointed out the AC/DC frontman’s impressive place on the water. And then pointed to an even more impressive house and invited us to a garden party that afternoon – with a wink. And an apartment building for seniors where they used to have to will their estate to the church that operated the apartment (no longer a requirement due to fussy children).

There are obviously plenty of sea birds in this area: cormorants, anhingas, brown pelicans, spoonbills, etc., but we can easily pick out our snowbird brethren (ducks and big white pelicans) because they aren’t nearly as comfortable around humans. Take this anhinga for example. He swam right up to us, and even underneath us!

But the White Pelican wouldn’t let us get closer than 100 meters.

Mark scooped up a sea urchin, and warned us of stepping on them. He said it’ll sting, and you can try and try to dig the spike out of your foot, but you’ll have to give up and accept the fact that you’ll now have a piece of the ocean inside your foot (appearing as a small black dot). Upside down jellyfish were also neat to see, and likely something I would not have spotted on the sandy bottom prior to Mark showing it to us.

Eventually we worked our way to the mangroves and our guide picked out a small break in the trees for us to paddle into. They weren’t kidding when they wrote mangrove tunnels on the tour description – you really feel like you’re in a tunnel!  It’s so quiet in here, save for the gentle clucking of oysters shutting their shells.

In order to exit the mangroves we did have to get out of our kayaks and push them – with a newfound awareness of where I was placing my feet in the water!

The tour was about 2.5 hours, and a great way to explore the area. We’re now wishing we had our kayak here with us. But we made a friend with Mark and hope to go sailing with him.

Photos on smugmug: http://kalicinski.smugmug.com/Florida-2015/Sailing-Sarasota 

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where were we?

The Florida Quays

Julie’s Christmas present this year was to view the sunset from Key West; either from her room at a hotel (I was going to pick this one – www.pierhouse.com) or from a boat whilst on a sunset cruise. We started planning the trip and picked a weekend before we started hosting visitors. Unwittingly we picked a long weekend. What does the travel book say about driving to Key West? “We strongly recommend to not drive to the islands on a Friday afternoon, especially if it’s a long weekend.”  Guess what time we hit Miami for the final segment to Key Largo? d’oh!

We also got a quick lesson in hotel prices and availability for Key West: holy shiza are they expensive! Finding something under US$300 was a challenge. So we spent the hotel points that we got for signing up for a hotel credit card on a room at the Fairfield Inn & Suites.

We staggered the trip to Key West, spending 2 nights on other islands on our way there: first Islamorada, then Marathon and finally Key West. Our stay in Key west lasted about 30 hours. And if you go to Key West, there is a 3-hour time frame wherein most of the action takes place. We missed it (we were on the boat). So we’ll have to go back to see the sunset party at Mallory Square. We originally thought we’d make the entire trip back in one day, but we ended up staying a night just off the islands in Florida City before driving back to Bradenton through the Everglades.

The reason for picking this weekend to go the Keys was because of all of the events that were going on.

• Uncorked Food & Wine Festival, www.floridakeysuncorked.com
• Key West Seafood Festival, www.fkcfa.org/seafood-festival1
• Ft.Lauderdale to Key West race, www.keywestrace.org
• Quantum Key West Race Week, www.premiere-racing.com

A story is one thing, but pictures make the difference – see them all here: http://kalicinski.smugmug.com/Florida-2015/FloridaKeys/

Jammin’ in the Cortez Kitchen

The old man’s skin was so wrinkled and weather worn that I could not quite tell if he was black, white or Cuban. But his raspy voice definitely spoke of his years and the slightly French-accent-tinged long drawl spoke of his origins in the bayou. He played some old blues on the guitar that had most of the varnish worn off. Beside him sat an even older gentleman who was attempting to get his violin into tune. The American War Veteran to his right seemed to readily take charge and determine whose turn it was to play a tune.  Us, with our baby and pram, brought the average age of the small group sitting in the circle of wooden chairs down to perhaps the low 50’s.

The Florida Maritime Museum hosts a “Music on the Porch” on the second Saturday of the month. The slightly cooler weather today moved the music inside the old schoolhouse, and the old building with its wooden floors and country music reminded me of similar venues around Valley River, MB (i.e.. Zoria Hall). But we are in Cortez Village, the last bit of the mainland from Bradenton before hopping the bridge onto the island for Bradenton Beach. A small enclave of “old” Florida where the streets are small and narrow running between the clapboard bungalows under the large trees. The village is centered around the Cortez Kitchen, a section of water nicknamed such due to the fact that that you could always go there and get something to eat. Now there’s also a restaurant beside the water of the same name, but it feels like it’s as old as the village, especially at night when a band starts to play and the air gets a bit smoky inside. We sat on the patio by the boats and watched a Great Blue Heron stroll into the fish processing plant next door and scavenge for scraps. The seared tuna was tasty, and the Land Shark lager went down nicely. I snuck a morsel of wasabi to Seb’s mouth and got a fantastic scrunched face as result – but no cry!

The sun started to go down, a fishing boat came in to dock, and the setting was very peaceful. We took a walk on the boardwalk around the water to take in the view. Wonderful. This is the moment. And the air from the restaurant wafted out the succulent smells of garlic butter. Is anyone else hungry?

The Great Drive South

Whatever Google or your GPS says, do not follow its advice. Seasoned veterans who drive south each winter know better – just go straight south as far and as fast as you can! Bad weather often hits Minneapolis and other areas nearer the Great Lakes.

For me, the drive from Winnipeg to Tampa Bay started out ominously: after checking and double-checking the packing list, I left, but forgot my wallet!  Then, once outside the Perimeter of the City, the weather looked like it was stacking up against me. A warm spell (above 0°C!) brought rain the day before, which turned to freezing rain overnight and resulted in fog in the morning. This meant I was passing people on the highway while doing 80kph. Embarking on a 30+ hour journey to discover that the first few hours will be very slow wasn’t heartening. However, the US border brought clearer skies (somewhat) and better yet, clearer roads. In fact, during the entire trip, I only had the sun in my eyes once. An incredible continent-long blanket of cloud seemed to track me.

I made it to Omaha the first day, and by midday on the second day I was already bored of the Interstate. Occasionally something would perk me up, like passing a trucker from a company in Morden, MB. But otherwise, the podcasts and audiobooks were doing their trick to keep me awake.

Just south of Kansas City I decided to veer off course: take the hypotenuse route to Memphis instead of the longer route on the Interstate – the GPS said that both routes would get me there at about the same time. So I took a random exit (at Archie) and headed east. And I’m glad I did! The road I happened upon was curvy and hilly and quite a lot of fun. At some points the hills were so steep that you couldn’t see where the road was going as it dove down away from you. And the scenery here was better too: small farms and classic American Midwest houses.

This route sent me through the Ozarks (hwy 63), a place I’ve never been to. It’s a pretty area, full of big oak trees covering rolling hills with an occasional town in the mix. And I’m pretty sure one of the small villages smelled like garlic sausage.

The hills end abruptly and open up into the flat Mississippi delta; coincidentally a flock of Canada Geese flew overhead and welcomed me to familiar terrain, complete with farm equipment beside the roadway from the rice harvest.

As I exited Memphis and got further south, I noticed that other drivers were now treating the highway as an extension of city roads; wherein slower traffic wouldn’t always “keep to the right”. Down in the Florida panhandle, while driving through heavy rain, I found I could actually go faster in the “slow” lane! Not nearly as organized as I found in California, where each lane seems to have a 5-10mph speed differential. So the final push to get to Bradenton was mildly frantic. But alas, it was worth it, as the Gulf came into view while crossing the bridge over the Manatee River. And then of course, my family was there.

Punched in hard one day, 7hrs non-stop!

It's winter get-away time!

I don't mind winter, I may even like it. But this year's polar vortex-induced freezer has tested everyone's limits.
It didn't take long for the first cold snap (in December) to send Julie to the flight search engines looking for possibilities.
As luck would have it, her sister got word that her company was holding meetings in Grand Cayman - perhaps we should tag along?

We were there briefly a number of years ago during a cruise stop-over. The clear blue waters of the Caribbean are a fond memory. So I'm pretty stoked to do some scuba diving again.

Should be good!

-Andrew.K
(on my MTS Blackberry)

A sip, just a taste; of Bordeaux

Two envelopes were waiting on our bedside table last night when we returned home after having dinner with Julie’s friend Antonio.  They were our train tickets to Toulouse, and the departure time was maybe a little sooner than we had hoped for, which made for a rushed morning.

We scurried down to the lobby: Julie to check out, while I asked the concierge for the best subway route to the train station. “Do we have enough time?” I asked. The concierge nodded “just enough”. I went over to the counter to see if Julie was finished and told her the news. I stood by our bags for a few moments, anxiously glancing at my watch, estimating the time for us to cross the street, get down in the metro and then onto the subway.  I glanced over to Julie who now looked somewhat panicked and said “taxi?”. I looked the other way to the concierge who nodded in agreement and started for the door to hail us a taxi. [Traveler tip: taxis in France start their meters at the time of being called to come get you, not when you physically get in the vehicle like North America.]  Mid-morning Paris traffic wasn’t bad, and the voyage above-ground provided us some new sights. Our energetic driver nosed his way through what traffic there was and the €10 fare was easily worth it to get us to Montparnasse station on time.

I have longed to travel via high-speed train, and today I would experience the Tay Jay Vay, or Train de Grande Vitesse [TGV].

Surprisingly there is no direct high-speed train from Paris to Toulouse, so we had a stopover in Bordeaux, which is good because it was an early victim to trip planning culling.

Bordeaux is…Bordeaux is lovely. It is like it stepped out of a Bombardier train commercial as sleek-looking trams glide past stately old buildings with just the sound of a dinging bell.  Check out their tourism website - http://www.bordeaux-tourisme.com/index_uk.html or Lonely Planet’s quick intro - http://www.lonelyplanet.com/france/southwestern-france/bordeaux.  We stashed our luggage in storage lockers at the train station (the only time we found this service during our trip) and hopped onto one of these new trams to the center of town.  And it was here, at Place de la Bourse with its large fountain with rose-tinted water (I’m guessing to pay tribute to wine) where we descended from the tram and were taken aback at the sight before us, even on this dreary, rainy day.

Julie had a destination for us, a restaurant for lunch. And in France, lunch can last a long time, but then it is over and you missed it, so we had to hustle. We walked along the riverfront Richelieu Quay then through the Porte Cailhau that was built at the end of the 15th century, and where Cafe Chez Fred has a prime spot with a grand view of the old gate.

We found our targeted restaurant down one of many car-free narrow streets. Le Cheverus cafe was lively during the lunch hour and our young waiter’s broken English was better than my broken French so we managed to get Julie a dairy-free meal. And what a meal it was! The tajine de poulet au citron was a satisfying meal served in a clay dish with a tall, conical lid that the waiter dramatically removed upon delivery.

After lunch a drizzle accompanied us as we strolled south end to north through the old city. At the end we were surprised to see a midway [we shouldn’t have been – it’s a school holiday this week]. The Ferris wheel lured Julie in and we took a ride. It was a great way to see over the city without climbing the stairs in the cathedral’s bell tower!

After that bit of excitement, we had time for a glass of wine at the very nice sampling shop Maison du Vin. I asked to try a “fort” wine, and the 2010 Margaux did not disappoint at all; providing all of the flavours and textures of what one imagines a good wine should embody.  Too bad I had to swig the last half as we had to catch the tram back to the train station.

Je t'aime Paris, mais je suis fatigue

It appears as though I either grossly underestimated the effects of jet lag, or was vastly over ambitious in what I thought we could see in a mere 48 hours in Paris. And so it is, that here at 9pm I lay in a luxurious bed willing myself to get up and go out into the streets to experience the City of Lights, but I do not, surrendering to the comfort and the fact my legs will not go.
But it was a good day today - Julie's birthday - that I'm sure to use as a bargaining chip at some point in the future: "remember that year that we spent your birthday in Paris?
Julie's pick for lunch was "le Café Marly", ideally located on a terrace overlooking Pei's pyramid at Le Louvre.  The clouds broke up, allowing the sun to pierce through and brighten the square bustling with tourists. I cannot imagine this place at high season.  It's a given that the prices at a café overlooking the Louvre will be extravagant, but my word - that lunch was worth it! First the bread with butter. And some small jars of jams. C'est ordinaire, non? I'm sorry Canadian and New Zealand dairy farmers, but French butter, combined with strawberry jam runs a close second only to clotted cream as the best thing on bread.  I'm pretty sure I embarrassed Julie by eating just butter and jam after finishing the bread!  The simple ham and cheese omelette was easily the best I've had; melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Later on I would learn that the secret is to not fully cook the eggs.
Watching the large entry queue from our perch, we opted to walk out of the square to the underground mall to buy our tickets to the museum that would exempt us from the line. The 15 minutes was well worth it to just walk right in.
We were somewhat pressed for time, if only by our body clocks, so regrettably we did the Louvre in less than 2 hours. Having seen 100 Masters in the small crowds of Winnipeg, I couldn't be bothered to wiggle through the masses to look at any given work of art. I also find that I am more impressed by the physical effort it takes to produce the piece, rather than the emotion that the piece physically represents. Must be the engineer in me...

Happy birthday Julie - Bonne fête!