Tales from the Wandering Bean

Paris Street Names

No grid in Paris, the streets are all named after something/someone important or relevant — and sometimes it can be really surprising or poetic. - Vahram Muratyan 

(Source: clubmonaco)

Country and Sunday mornings.

My dad used to crank up the country on Sunday mornings. My mom was never a big fan, she preferred silence, coffee and reading. My dad on the other hand wanted to blast old country and classic rock, fry up some bacon a crack a carton of eggs in a hot pan. My dad’s morning routine was far more successful at rousing my brothers and I.

We walked into the kitchen, rubbing our eyes and dragging our feet. We’d sit down to a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, then douse it all in ketchup. The boys and I would slowly make our way through breakfast as Garth Brooks belted out yeehaws and love y’alls from the stereo.

I still keep it up today, the country, eggs and coffee on Sunday mornings. Even on days like today when I’m sitting in the office. I still throw on some Luke Bryan and bob my head to Jason Aldean while sipping on a hot cup of mud watching the milk swirl around slowly turning the liquid to a more palatable creamy brown. It’s comforting to keep things like this up. I feel at home, even in an empty glass box down on Bay Street.

Coffee, country and a big Sunday breakfast. Nothing makes me feel more at home.

Rolling with it. Lost with a beer in hand.

My St.Patrick’s day this year was nothing like I had planned. I don’t mean that I forget to hit up parties after getting hammered at my first pancake kegger (that would have been awesome). Rather, I slept through most of it.

I worked my first 25 hr day on Friday (7am Friday to 8:30 am Saturday). And as I lay down my data filled head on a cool, crisp pillow to drift off into dreams of arrays and colourful columns my brothers were getting up ready to start a day of pancakes, beer and everything green.

I woke up around 7:30 pm only to think that I had slept all the way through until Sunday. Fortunately, I had only missed the day drinking part and was still able to salvage as bit of the night. I poured myself a Guinness and sat down to a breakfast of beer & chicken wings. I flipped open my phone only to realize it ha stopped working.

Planning St.Patty’s day with friend who’d been drinking since 11 am sans mobile was going to be interesting. Facebook saved the day, I was given an address to meet my friends at a keggar so I set off into the city, trying to play catchup on the grub-way. I arrived at #178 only to soon realize that this was definitely not the right house. However, like a good Canadian, the young folks living there invited me in and we lit sparklers as one of their hipster-esque comrades blew bubbles.

After nearly an hour drinking and hanging with these new-found-folks I got a hold of the correct address and head off to a house just down the block. There I was surprised to see several different groups of friends had converged at one locale. I got the chance to see a whole wack of folks, some I hadn’t seen in years.

The night ended at a scummy bar called the Wreck Room where surprise, surprise, I ran into another old friend from middle school. I made it home relatively sober, but quite happy at the random evening that unfolded. A couple years ago I would have been pissed off, disappointed and ranting about how my day was ruined; and though there wasn’t much of a St.Patty’s day, I had a salvaged and adventurous evening.

So here’s to sleeping through the party & getting lost in a big city, smile on face & beer in hand.

MMmm Feb/March: Quebec & Cuba. Oui. Si.

After having some fun with Jazz in January it’s time to try something else. 

And seeing as its blustery and snowing outside why not mix in a little of the snow and add in some sunshine. For February and March, the Monthly-Motifs-for-a-Mushless-Mind will be artists of Quebec & Cuba. 

I’ll be picking 3 Quebecois and 3 Cuban painters and a few Cuban musicians and enjoying their art. If you have any suggestions please throw them my way. 

Keep those minds from going mushy. 

xoxo. W.Bean

simply happy

Reminder: your friends are more awesome than you think

It was one of those weekends where I could’ve done a bunch of things, visited a bunch of people and made the birthday’s I thought I’d go to… but instead I found myself hanging out on the couch. 

Grumpy, tired, lazy and bored I sulked. Then I did what most people of our generation do- pulled out my phone. But instead of cruising to Facebook or finding someone to complain to, I wrote to an old friend. One whom I hadn’t seen in a while and that I don’t speak to often. 

I didn’t beat around the bush, my message was simple: I’m having one of those weekends, can you help cheer me up from halfway around the world? And then a quick life update. 

Ten minutes later I had movie recommendations, jokes, funny stories and good memories on my mind. I settled down to watch True Romance, an awesome early 90’s young love & gangbusters flick that I highly enjoyed. It’s amazing how even when they’re so far away, your good friends- the ones who know you well, can brighten your day. And most often, they are just a phone call away. 

MMmm this January is Jazz. (Monthly Motif of a Mush-less Mind)

I like Jazz. If you’ve been over at my place and commented on my old-man taste in music as I crank up the Louis Armstrong, then I’ve probably known you long enough to indulge you in my geeky side (ha! as if I ever had a non-geeky side). 

Even though I like it, I don’t know much about it and that’s what’s MMmm for January is Jazz. So I’ve taken to growing my collection and am spending this evening drinking my favourite Chilean Malbec and listening to:

• Keith Jarrett, Rio
• Miles Davis, The Complete Bitches Brew Sessions
• Bill Frisell, Songs We Know My Love
• Charlie Parker, The Complete Savoy Dial Master Takes
• & a few Chris Potter albums

I will let you know what I think. If you have any albums you recommend or sub-genres, related books etc please get in touch: wbeanblog@gmail.com 

Yes, I now have an email. xo W.Bean

A Mush-less Mind: 2012 Resolutions

I have many more travel stories for you from my last trip, but not just now. Now I’m focusing on the new job I’m starting and the new lifestyle I’m creating.

The analytical side of my mind feels like it’s turning to mush. I stumble over basic arithmetic (let’s not discuss the sudoku puzzles I haven’t finished). But have no fear! Work is coming to the rescue. My very analytical job is going to kick my brain’s ass into shape. It’ll be painful and stressful I’m sure, but it’s good for me. 

I’ve been thinking about the rest of my brain, and the mushiness going on up there. I love art, music, poetry, theoretical physics and ancient cultures. But in the past 5 years of university I let those interests slide. But no longer. I’m going to pick a Monthly Motif, a subject or topic I can get into for a month or so to keep learning. 

I guess this is my 2012 resolution, to have a mush-less mind- to have a cultured mind that fosters creativity and exploration. 

Feel free to throw in your two cents on the motif I’m looking into. I’m open to any great blogs, artists, info or opinions you have. 

Happy learning. 

xo W.Bean

Everest Trek-18 days of Awesome… with a twist

After catching the trekking bug on the Annapurna circuit I really wanted to hit up the Khumbu. But with a flight to Delhi booked that meant I had to get moving, fast. Thankfully I have amazingly flexible friends who hopped on a plane, trekked a long day and met me in Namche Bazaar from which we set off towards Thame. 

The walk was relaxing, warm and stunning as we got closer and closer to the snow capped peaks. Over the next 2 weeks we crossed the Renjo Pass, climbed Gokyo Ri, crossed the Cho La Pass and then headed up to Gorek Shep. Days were long compared to the travel group trekkers, but we enjoyed our time and K&G taught me loads about the mountains, altitude and we were soon all pressure breathing in sync. 

The nights were freezing, and by the time we made it up to Gorek Shep I had had 2 mornings of waking up with ice on my nose and was getting a bit tired of potato & fried rice. But the view from Kala Pattar was well worth it as you can see from my last photo post. 

The next night- after sleeping on a bench in the dining room of a restaurant (all the rooms were booked up) we hit up base camp and around 1 pm I decided I was ready to lose some altitude. I was sick of Snickers bars by that time (after eating 2-3 a day for the previous 2 weeks) and while we tried to pack on calories as much as we could my upper body was starting to atrophy and my pants were getting a bit baggy. So I decided to lose 1000m that day in altitude.

I trekked/jogged down to Dingboche- which in retrospect was a bit ambitious, but made it there just as the sun set behind Ama Dablam and the darkness had settled in. I made it down just in time for the great fog to roll in. After two weeks of sun I wasn’t familiar with fog that lasted all day. Listening to the guides talk I got the understanding this fog was here to stay- which meant big trouble for the people trying to fly out of Lukla and get back to KTM to catch flights home. One day, just 5 flights got out. The next day, all flights were cancelled- and the weather just kept getting worse. 

I trekked down to Lukla from Namche in the morning and by the time I got in the town was overflowing with 2500 people stranded waiting for flights. In a town that normally would hold 500 tourists at a time, all beds were taken and it was a scramble for a good dining room to sleep in. I was just happy to have a warm place to sleep and happily curled up on my own in my sleeping bag as other travels drank wine and stayed up late watching Hindi movies around me in the dining room. Just give me a bench to lay out my sleeping bag and I’m golden. 

The next day news came in it would only get worse. By the end of the day 3000 people were expected to be stranded in Lukla. People were pissed off, miserable, grumpy and tense. Not my vibe. I was still in awesome spirits thankfully and decided to hightail it out of there and do the trek down to Jiri.

It’s a 5 day trek known for its tough hills- you go up hill all day, then down hill all afternoon. I had left all my family’s Christmas presents in Lukla and decided after already blowing an achilles I was best off getting a porter to help carry my now 30kg pack. I met Ashok and he just told me to keep up with him. The wiry 18 year old meant business. I’m not exaggerating when I say we ran for the first day. We had left at 12:30 and needed to make up time. So yes, we ran until 6pm and if there had been any option to stop I probably would have but the minute I slowed down I lost sight of him and losing my guide and bag in the Khumbu wasn’t an option. We jogged in the mornings, walked from 11-3 then ran in the evenings making it to catch a bus back to KTM 2.5 days later. I was beat up, tired, but totally pumped at what we had accomplished. Nothing can get me down after that I thought…

But I forgot about the horrors of a Nepali bus ride. The bad weather had turned the road into a mudslide and from Bendar to Jiri took 6 hrs, not 2… our bus slid around the road, slid back down the hills. The amazing Nepali people kept digging it out and eventually we made our way to Jiri. From there the road wasn’t so nauseating (though the smell from 100+ people packed into a 50 person bus all smelling after traveling through the weather was enough to make me sick quite a number of times). But we ran out of gas, stopped to chat to everyone (our driver was a popular man) and 16 hrs later we arrived in Thamel in the pitch dark. 

For those of you who know Thamel you know it closes up around 10, and by 11:30 you have little chance of getting a room anywhere unless you know exactly where you were going. I had no clue where I was. But thankfully, life seems to throw awesome people my way when things like this happen and a super kind fellow trekker offered to share a wicked room in the Hyatt. Yes, that’s right. I went from sleeping on benches and waking up with ice frozen on my nose to crashing the Hyatt and making a massive dent in their breakfast buffet. 

Alls well that ends well and to be honest the toughest part of the journey now is the most exciting part of the story. Back in KTM I hooked back up with the awesome LA crew I had met earlier- had a lovely evening and then set off for Delhi.